The Silver Lake (10 page)

In the very center of the capital, Anavatan’s governing assembly met once a week in the ancient and ornate Derneke-Mahalle Citadel. Built by the Gods, its latticed stone walls encompassed five acres of lush, cinar-tree-shaded rose and rhododendron gardens, sparkling fountains, and rows of sweet-smelling apple, cherry, peach, and pear trees. The building itself formed a series of spiraling halls eventually leading to the massive central assembly chamber. Its swirling white marble floors and deep blue, green, and silver painted walls represented Gol-Beyaz, with the huge vaulted blue-and-golden-tiled dome, wrapped by white marble viewing galleries, acting as the sky above. Richly embroidered divans sat against the south wall while long tables laden with bowls of nuts and dried fruit and great silver carafes of both tea and imported coffee stood to the east and west and a huge mosaic-tiled map of Gol-Beyaz, bordered by two seas, twelve villages, and one great city dominated the north. A dozen golden candelabra chased away the gloom of Havo’s First Day, while in the center, a low, inlaid mahogany table made up of six separate, interlocking pieces, legs carved to resemble lion paws and fish tails, stood on a thick, azure carpet surrounded by crimson-colored cushions. It was a fitting place from which to govern the richest nation in the known world.

On Open Assembly Days, the room would be bursting with people. Twenty-one beys made up the Senior Council: six for the Gods’ main temples, twelve for the villages, and one for each of Anavatan’s three main Trisects. With the addition of junior beys, aides, delinkon, scribes, stewards, visiting dignitaries, and anyone who had business with the Assembly that day or just wanted to watch, the hall was often crowded with as many as a hundred and fifty people below and up to a thousand in the galleries above. This morning, however, there were only ten: an ancient steward filling teacups by the side table, three clerks clutching the city’s damage reports, a single scribe already seated to one side, and five of the six temple representatives. Kemal tossed Jaq a candied date before glancing around to see who the others were today.

The temples of Usara, God of Healing, and Ystazia, God of the Arts, were each represented by proxy-beys of equal rank to Kemal himself, and, not surprisingly, Havo’s temple had sent a junior bey’s delinkos. Only Oristo was represented by a true bey: Neclan, Senior Abayos-Priest at Oristo-Sarayi—the Hearth God’s people took all Assemblies very seriously. A gaunt woman, whose features generally lent themselves to expressions of disapproval, Bey Neclan’s face seemed particularly lined this morning, her stiff posture revealing both annoyance and suspicion. As Jaq padded over to stuff his nose under the scribe’s arm and Kemal took his own seat, she looked down her long, thin nose at him.

“You’re late,” she noted coldly. “Even Havo’s temple has seen fit to send someone on time.”

“Havo’s temple is indeed most devout in their civic duty, Sayin,” Kemal agreed, ignoring the reproof. “Yusef, isn’t it?”

His hands wrapped tightly about a porcelain teacup, Havo’s delinkos smiled painfully back at him.

“My seniors send their regrets, Sayin. They are ... indisposed this morning.”

“You mean hung over,” Neclan sniffed.

“Yes, Sayin. This First Night was a wild one within Havo-Sarayi as well as without.” Starting slightly, he reached down as Jaq, finished with the scribe, thrust his nose into his lap. “Um, good dog, please move.”

Aurad, one of Ystazia’s master musicians, leaned his heavily muscled forearms on the table. “Shall I send some drummers over to keep time with the beating in their skulls?” he asked with an evil grin.

Yusef laughed carefully. “If it were up to me, I would say, yes, please. I was drafted to help Tahir-Sayin up a rickety flight of minaret stairs this morning and she puked on my shoes.”

“Then she deserves drummers; I’ll see to it.”

“No, you won’t.” Jemil, Usara’s representative turned a firm stare on both of them. Of medium height and build with thinning light brown hair and smooth, fluidly androgynous features, the bi-gender physician to the God of Healing was not an imposing figure, but nonetheless, Ystazia’s proxy-bey shrugged sheepishly.

“I was only joking ...”

Jemil raised one arched eyebrow.

“Mostly. Physicians, no sense of humor,” Aurad muttered, winking at Neclan.

“Musicians, no sense of propriety,” she retorted.

Jemil raised a hand to forestall further argument. “Dorn, more tea for everyone please. No, Jaq, I do not have anything for you. Please remove your head from my knee.”

As the dog shuffled away, Kemal glanced at the empty place at the head of the table. “Don’t tell me Incasa’s people are hung over as well,” he asked, accepting a cup from the steward. “Their festival was months ago.”

“Maybe they couldn’t wait,” Aurad chuckled. “Get your nose out of there, Jaq.”

“I imagine their representative is merely late as well. The streets are treacherous this morning,” Jemil surmised.

The musician leaned across the table. “Ten aspers says it’s Bessic,” he offered Kemal in a loud stage whisper. “He wouldn’t miss the chance to attend Assembly.”

“Done. He hates being out in poor weather.”

“But he’s ambitious and what other day could we expect Freyiz-Sayin to be absent?”

“Point.”

“An unseemly point,” Neclan snapped peevishly. “Incasa-Sarayi will send whoever is appropriate to their God’s desire. Down, Jaq.” She shoved the dog’s head away. “Kemal, control your animal or leave him outside.”

“Jaq, come.”

The dog sighed deeply and, having ascertained that no one at the table would feed him, obeyed, slumping against Kemal’s leg with a disconsolate expression.

Aurad grinned. Opening his mouth to say something else guaranteed to annoy Neclan again, he was interrupted as Freyiz, Incasa’s First Oracle and Anavatan’s most senior bey, entered the room on the arm of a delinkos. As one, the Assembly rose in surprise.

No one knew how long Freyiz had served at Incasa’s temple; she’d been the God of Prophecy’s most favored seer for as long as anyone there could remember. Slight and frail, her body bent, and her hair as well as her eyes long ago turned white from the strength of Incasa’s vision-gifts, she was bundled in layer upon layer of heavy woolens to keep out the damp. Even so, she gave off an air of earthly fragility combined with immense unearthly power. It was said that she ruled Incasa’s temple with an iron fist and even the God trod lightly when she was angered. No one at that table would have dared to disagree. After allowing her delinkos to help her onto her cushion, she swept her inward gaze across the table, taking in the gathered representatives despite her outer blindness. She gestured.

“Please sit.”

When everyone had returned to their seats, she turned her milky-white gaze on Kemal. “Something is happening,” she said firmly.

He started.

“Incasa has sent this image to me in a dream,” she continued, turning her head slightly to address the entire council, “a child of great potential still unformed standing on the streets of Anavatan. The twin dogs of creation and destruction crouch at its feet. The child is ringed by silver swords and golden knives and its eyes are filled with fire. It draws strength from Anavatan’s unsworn and will be born tonight under the cover of Havo’s Dance.”

There was silence across the assembly table. When she did not elaborate further, Jemil stirred.

“What does it mean, Sayin?”

She gave an eloquent shrug. “The God is being ... cryptic,” she replied with a grimace. “But the simplest answer would be that something of great potential for either good or ill will begin tonight.”

“Some thing or some one?”

“The image of the child could be either literal or symbolic. Incasa has not seen fit to enlighten me regarding which it may be. Yet.”

Her tone was one of annoyance and Kemal stifled a smile. Remembering his own dream, he made to speak and suddenly felt himself silenced as if a cloud of mist had taken hold of his tongue. Startled, he closed his mouth.

“Did Incasa indicate what He wishes done about this ... delon?” Jemil continued, using the more urban word for child.

“No.”

“Then why ... ?”

“I have no idea.”

“What could we do, anyway?” Aurad interjected with an impatient wave of his teacup. “We can’t go out looking for it, whether it’s real or symbolic, not on Havo’s Second Night. We’d all be swept into the strait.”

“Perhaps Incasa has left the decision up to each one of us whether to risk that or not,” Neclan countered stiffly.

Freyiz inclined her head toward her. “Possibly.”

“Or perhaps we’re simply to recognize that it’s happening and act at a later date,” Jemil offered.

“Again, possibly.”

Aurad frowned. “Well, that’s all fine and good, but if the choice is mine I choose to remain indoors tonight.”

Jemil took a sip of tea before nodding in agreement. “I’m concerned about the these images of swords and knives, however, as well as the ... what was it?”

“Twin dogs of creation and destruction,” Aurad supplied, watching as Jaq padded around the table to lie beside Freyiz, his head resting gently against one white-clad knee. She reached down to stroke his ears absently.

“Yes. I like the former well enough, just not the latter, and I don’t like that it’s happening on the streets of Anavatan,” Jemil continued.

“It’s bad for trade,” Aurad agreed.

“It’s bad for the security of Anavatan’s citizens,” Neclan snapped. “Oristo’s and Usara’s temples are responsible for the well-being of the city and Estavia’s for its safety,” she added, giving a stiff jerk of a nod in Kemal’s direction. “If nothing else, we should at least petition our own Gods for answers to this riddle.”

Freyiz inclined her head. “Yes, that would be the wis est course of action at this time, Neclan-Delin, even if these weapons are merely symbolic of something else entirely.”

“Nice to see that’s sorted out, then,” Aurad noted. “Now what’s all this nonsense about the unsworn; what’s that symbolic of?”

“Perhaps it’s just as it seems,” Jemil answered mildly.

“Bollocks. There are no unsworn in Anavatan. It’s the City of the Gods; everyone follows one Deity or another here.”

Jemil raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, apart from the odd foreigner ...”

“Apart from all foreigners,” the physician retorted. “Of whom there are a great many, even in springtime. The docks are teeming with Rostovics, Volinski, Petchans,Tha sosians, and many others, not to mention the Yuruk, all of whom have no relationship with the Gods of Gol-Beyaz.”

“No, but they must have a relationship with some God or another. Besides, on Havo’s Dance there isn’t so much as a rat’s arse to be seen on the streets of Anavatan. The citizens are all locked safely behind their own shutters and the foreigners are all holed up in hostels or taverns.”

“What about the poor?” Jemil prodded.

“What
about
the poor? Don’t they have shutters of their own?”

“Do they?”

“How should I know? Bey Neclan?”

“Anyone in need of shelter during Havo’s Dance is welcome at Oristo’s temples,” she answered stiffly. “Whether they be rich, poor, Anavatanon or foreigner. This is known throughout the city.”

“Yes, but for a price, Sayin,” Jemil noted gently.

“Of course for a price, but no price higher than is possible to be paid,” she snapped back angrily. “Those who do not have money may offer service.
All
are protected on Havo’s Dance. Period.”

“So, what does it mean, then?” Aurad repeated.

“I don’t know,
I’m
not a seer.”

“Enough.” Freyiz frowned at all three of them. “Yusef?”

The delinkos started.

“Yes, Sayin?”

“You’ve been trying to speak for some time now, what is it that you wish to add?”

“Um, nothing of any real importance, Sayin, it’s just that Havo would not respond tonight anyway ...”

“I’m sure,” Neclan sniffed.

The delinkos flushed and Freyiz cast Oristo’s bey a reproving glance.

“Please, go on, Yusef.”

“Um ... it’s just that our God will be out in force tonight, and if anything is stirring on the streets of Anavatan, Havo will know of it. We can always petition for answers in the morning.”

“An excellent idea,” Aurad declared. “So, we inform our temples’ leaders—those leaders that aren’t already here today, of course,” he added, winking at Neclan who ignored him. “They petition the Gods, and we wait and see. Unless, of course, Bey Freyiz, there’s more?”

“No more at the moment.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” Rubbing his hands together vigorously, he made to rise, but Neclan frowned him back into his seat.

“We still have the damage reports from across the city, Aurad-
Delin
,” she reminded him.

“Oh, right.” As the clerks came forward hesitantly, he made a resigned gesture at the steward to refill his cup.