Tivi's Dagger (4 page)

He bowed and left me to my thoughts as the
wind picked up and blew a shower of dead leaves across the gravel.
The goat bleated and the birds sang overhead. Something caught my
eye, flopping over the toe of my boot. I knelt down. It was a dark
lock of Kari’s discarded hair, soft and still damp from his morning
ablutions. I wound the curl around my finger from root to tip. It
was soft and smooth and I had the feeling that it would somehow
bring me luck. Curling it into a tight coil, I slipped the ringlet
into the locket I wore around my neck. My grandmother’s likeness
glared out at me, the knot-browed frown of the devout, so like
Brin’s. The coil of hair hid her expression nicely and I snapped
the locket shut and tucked it back under my shirt.

It was cold against my heart, for a
second.

***

The monks had provided so much breakfast
that by the time we finally set off, I felt bloated and idle.
Mother Kiti had offered Brin some bottles of wine for the journey,
which – much to everyone’s disappointment – he had refused. My
spirits dipped as I contemplated what lay ahead, all of which was
to be endured in a condition of unwelcome sobriety. A foot-numbing
trudge through a land full of poisonous creatures and mistrustful
inhabitants – not to mention the apparently treacherous cavernous
pass Brin had neglected to inform us of – to a little-known shrine
in the back arse of nowhere, where I would kneel to the Thirteen,
none of whom I believed in, and force words of penance I did not
mean to spill from my mouth, all in order to satisfy my
brother.

It was remarkable how firmly Brin believed
that I would return to Lis a changed man – not the same wretch who
would, after having visited the holiest of sites, resume drinking
and fornicating as I had every intention of doing. Brin’s
convictions had always been his strength and his tragedy. He had
fully believed the Protectors would welcome him back into the fold
right up until the moment they stripped him, held him down, and
forced the burning brand against his flesh. For a moment I felt
sorry for him, but then I stumbled on a stone and wrenched my
ankle. When I’d limped off the pain, I trailed sullenly behind the
group, cursing my brother once again and feeling more than sorry
for myself.

What would they say at the Duck and Swan if
they could see me now? Nedim Melchion, heir to the Melchion title
and fortune, a desirable bachelor in his prime who had the pick of
the most beautiful and discreet women the city had to offer – not
to mention the finest wardrobe – now to be seen trudging along
behind a donkey on a rocky mountain path sporting muddied leathers
and a dismal brown pilgrim’s tunic. The situation could not be any
worse. I would be a laughing stock, and would surely not hear the
end of jokes about “filthy adventurers” – the travelling,
sword-for-hire types upon whom the nobility of Azmara looked down
from great heights.

I was no stranger to travel, but even in the
most basic surroundings I had always prided myself on maintaining
at least a modicum of style and grooming. From what I had learned
from others who had undertaken such a journey, it appeared that
pilgrims were required to show their devotion by being dirty and
unkempt at all times, concerned only with spiritual matters. Taking
in the mountain landscape around me, I comforted myself with the
thought that at least there were few about who would see me in such
a dismal condition.

Lana was striding along at the front with
Brin and Kari while Kel led the donkey back down to the bottom of
the path, where Matativi’s statue sat staring blindly into the
distance, the dagger tucked once more behind its back. We turned
left onto a narrow path which maintained a gentle downhill
trajectory. The air was lush and smelt of rain on pine leaves and
the mist had lifted a little, revealing thick forest to the left
side and a plunging drop on the other. When the pebbles I kicked
went over the edge, their fall was a distant rattle.

Snippets of conversation drifted to my ears
over the crunch of my boots and the song of morning birds.

“
So you know a little of our
language,” Kari was saying to Lana.

“
When I was a girl my family employed
a nanny who hailed from these parts. She spoke of Methar often and
sadly, as if she could never return home. I never really understood
why.”

Kari scratched his chin, deep in thought.
“Perhaps she was a criminal or an apostate, an outcast. Only the
truly desperate among us seek employment in Lis.”

Brin’s hands formed fists, but he said
nothing.

Lana tugged at her long braid thoughtfully.
“Perhaps. But I do not understand. We also do not favor your God,
yet you freely allow us passage through your land.”

Kari seemed to consider Lana’s words
for a moment. “There is an old saying here,
selire meteen
. It means something like
look to your own
. The affairs and
beliefs of outsiders do not concern us. But for those who have
turned their backs on our Lady, Methar can be a cold
place.”

“
Perhaps it is not so different from
Lis after all,” Lana said with a sidelong glance at my brother,
then began making safer conversation about the beautiful scenery
around us and the different birds and beasts she hoped to see on
our journey. Thoroughly depressed, I tuned out Lana’s gay chatter
and listened to the rush of a nearby stream and the silence of the
mountains that loomed all around us.

On a normal day back in Azmara I would not
yet have arisen from my bed. The servants would be laying out the
finest silks and leathers for me to don before I would indulge in a
long and lazy lunch on my balcony, gazing out over the harbor where
the trading boats were docked, a hive of colorful activity. When
the wind blew in from the east, it would carry the scent of spices
and fruit and jasmine. In the evening I would make my way to my
private rooms at the Duck and Swan where my friends — men and women
like me, heirs to nobles, idle and beautiful and completely lacking
in devotion — would be lounging on the plush cushions, eating fat
purple grapes from golden bowls. The innkeep would serve the finest
smuggled wines and any woman I chose, and then the evening would
begin — drinking games, filthy jokes that would have made the
Protectors’ ears wither and fall off, culminating in some wholesome
bedplay, should the whim seize us. All of which I was supremely
talented at, and enjoyed immensely.

The beauty of being born into money meant
that as long as I took a few rudimentary precautions, none of Lis’s
harsh Immorality laws would ever apply to me. If I’d been a
believer, I would have kissed the feet of all thirteen Gods in
gratitude for my privilege. The Protectors were powerful, but they
did not have enough men to prevent all the land’s sins. To
compensate, they employed private citizens as their eyes and ears,
and a coin purse slipped into a pocket could render them blind and
deaf in no time.

I was so deep in my memories of those
wonderful nights at the Duck and Swan that I had not noticed that
Kari had fallen into step beside me until he spoke.

“
You seem troubled,
tiyal
. Are you not looking forward
to visiting the shrine?”

I shrugged. “You are not the only one forced
along on this little trip, Kari.”

He smiled. “I was not forced, exactly. It
will be a good experience for me, to be out in the world without my
grandmother. She’s of the opinion that it’s not possible for one
who has never experienced love in all its forms to serve Matativi
fully. In that, I suppose she’s correct.”

“
So your grandmother has sent you
forth in order to get laid?” I glanced at him, amused. “I wish I’d
had such grandparents.”

As my locket swung against my chest, I
contemplated my maternal grandmother for a second; her glaring
likeness was still fresh in my mind. A witch, once, who had used
her powerful magic for healing. I recalled my visits to her home as
a small boy, when her living room smelt of herbs both sweet and
pungent, and incense burned constantly in an earthenware bowl. Then
one day the Protectors had broken into her home and taken her away.
When she came back, she was as devout as Brin had ever been. She
had renounced her former life and spent most of her time in the
Temple until the day she died. The thought of her encouraging me
toward earthly love was…well, unthinkable.

“
Perhaps she has,” Kari replied, his
cheeks pinking slightly. “In any case, love touches us in a
multitude of ways. Our language has many words for it. Perhaps we
will both come to know them better, Ned.”

Bound by Brin’s Rite to remain silent on
almost every topic, I said nothing to Kari of my grandmother and
contented myself with a sideways glance at our comely guide. He had
cheered up a lot and was looking around the world with curious,
wide eyes. There was a comfortable silence as we followed the path
further down into the ravine, where the foliage of the trees became
more lush and soaked with the night’s rains.

“
So tell me of Lis,” he said
eventually. “I have read what I could of its history, but the
archives at the monastery pre-date the Second Splintering, and have
not been updated this hundred-year.”

My boots nipped uncomfortably across the
tops of my feet. I thought of my soft slippers lying where I’d left
them beside the bed, and let out a heartfelt sigh as I considered
Kari’s words. “Lis is a country of factions, bound by trade and
currency, while ruled and policed by those who believe their laws
are Divine. It bubbles like a careless alchemist’s potion,
threatening to boil over at any time. But at the same time, it can
be a wonderful place to live if you are born into the right
circumstances, such as I have been.”

“
And yet, here you are.”

I stared at my boots glumly. “And yet, here
I am indeed.”

“
Why?”

“
I am bound not to speak of these
things, Kari. I am sorry. In any case I would not tire you with my
complaints.” I looked around, determined to change the topic. “Your
land is stunningly beautiful.”

“
Thank you. Perhaps this journey will
give me a taste for further travel. The world is so big, and full
of surprises.” He smiled again and I was struck once more by how
stunningly beautiful
he
was.
He patted me on the shoulder and trotted to the front of our party
to rejoin Brin and Lana, who were about to reach a fork in the
path.

If he’d been a woman…Then a thought struck
me and I nibbled on my thumb, contemplating the situation. Perhaps
I would manage to have some fun on this cursed pilgrimage after
all. The risk of discovery was certainly something to ponder —
bound by the Rite as I was — but it would certainly give me
something besides my blistered feet to think about. We were no
longer in Lis, and Brin was no longer a Protector. And I knew in my
heart that my brother would prefer to die than wield a sword
against me.

Like most brothers, I mused, we loved each
other — but not often.

It would not be the first time I had
considered lying with another man, but since such liaisons were
punishable by execution under the Divine Laws of Lis, I had never
dared to take the chance, even among my tight circle of friends.
They mostly hailed from similar noble backgrounds and preferred, as
I did, to fall to their knees before a lover, not a priest. Among
them I knew there were a few who were definitely curious about such
activities, but we had all heard the whispered laments about that
well-known friend of a friend who had fallen into temptation only
to find out later (usually after the wretch had taken his pleasure)
that the handsome youth who had infiltrated the group was one of
the Protectors’ paid tell-tales. It was also a tried and tested
method for one noble to besmirch the character of a rival, and as
sole heir with but two jobs to do in life — marry and father a son
— I could ill afford to have such rumors in circulation. Much as I
loved my homeland, I was well aware of the sad fact that its
capital was a place where no one could truly be trusted.

With a great deal of regret I recalled once
more the burly pirate who had presented himself to Lana and myself
some years previously, as we lazed in our shack by the white sandy
beach on one of the Pirates’ Isles. We’d just awakened to a
pleasingly plump pouch of extra coin under our pillow after a night
of rum and pin-finger with a local bar owner and his bunch of merry
companions, and the sun was already high in the sky. With time to
kill before our ship returned to deposit its booty, the days
stretched long and lazy. Having taken some time to recover from the
blood sickness that was rife in that part of the world, the fellow
clearly felt himself restored by rest and a diet of fresh fish and
fruit, and was ready for action. He was a fine example of a man,
muscles like whipcords tapering toward a taut waist; huge shoulders
and thick thighs and a prick to match. He had leaned against the
doorframe, unashamedly naked, while Lana and I gaped at the
glorious sight.

His voice was deep and melodic, his accent
tinged with the many languages he’d acquired in his travels. “So,
which one of you first?” he’d said with a lazy, white-toothed
smile.

Lana had looked at me with a wicked smile.
“Shall we?”

Even so far from Lis’s shores I’d found
myself hesitating, to some cost.

Lana had no such qualms. “Well then, Ned, if
you are not in the mood for a donkey ride then you can make
yourself useful and fetch some food for dinner,” she'd cried and
sprung out of bed, rubbing her hands with glee.