The Initiate Brother Duology (104 page)

BOOK: The Initiate Brother Duology
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As the party came out from the shade of the great stone peak, the sun hit them and Shonto saw signs being made to Botahara by his men. They smile now, the lord thought, but in only a few hours the snow will soften and then the dread will return. They had seen what happened as the softening snow began to lose its hold, seen it come thundering down in great, white waves.

Looking over his shoulder, Shokan could still see the horses—surrounded by admirers. He hoped they were not to suffer the same fate at the hands of these people that they were about to at the hands of their owners. His foot slipped, but he recovered quickly. This was no place to be looking about or admiring the scenery. The footing was treacherous and would be until the sun had done its work.

The great coastal plain appeared around a corner, stretching off to the sea lost in a mist. The lowlands seemed green and warm and welcoming from
this height and Shokan felt an urge to return. But there was no returning. Imperial Guards would be waiting below and had no doubt taken possession of the Shonto fief. There was only the mountains and whatever lay on the other side, if he were fortunate enough to see the western slopes.

Unlike his retainers Shokan carried no weight but his sword, and even so he did not go as lightly as the mountain people who bore the heaviest burdens. The lord had watched with fascination as the mountain people made up their loads, rigging these to be carried by a single strap across the forehead. The smallest mountain dweller bore twice what the largest lowlanders could carry, and with ease. Altitude was said to rob a man of his breath and Shokan did not doubt it now.

Before the sun was high they had come down around the peak to the south and here they dug down through the snow bank of the trench that formed on either side of the gulley, leaving a wide gap between the snow and the rock. Water ran in the bottom of the trench now and water skins were filled. A brief but slippery scramble took them up to a ledge as wide as a man was tall. The sun had melted whatever snow had lain here and the rock was dry and almost warm to the touch.

There was no talk. The mountain people seemed little inclined to chat as they went, and the lowlanders needed every bit of breath just to keep the pace. The height may have had something to do with this silence, for though the ledge only sloped up slightly the floor of the gulley widened and sloped away so that they were higher with each step. The lowlanders crowded the rock wall and tried to keep their gaze fixed ahead, which meant all but a few missed an astonishing vista.

The ledge narrowed here and there, enough to make the passage of certain sections a test of nerve. Shokan knew that Shonto guards would go into battle, no matter what the odds, without hesitation, but heights were a different matter. Slipping off a ledge was hardly an honorable end. Of course, none wished to be seen as cowardly before their fellows or the son of their liege-lord, so much effort went into disguising fears. Still, Shokan was sure that he had seen men famed for their prowess on the battlefield traverse the more difficult sections with far less confidence than some of their younger and less fearsome companions. It almost made him smile.

Where the ledge narrowed to nothing, wooden walkways appeared to bridge the gaps and these were constructed in so flimsy a manner that all the lowlanders said a prayer for the protection of their souls before crossing.
Shokan wondered how they bore the weight of snow or if they were reconstructed each spring. So poorly engineered did these walkways appear, the fact that they had no railings went almost unnoticed. To everyone’s surprise they did not collapse.

By late afternoon the long snake of humanity had wound its way around to the south, and the ledge ended in a saddle between two peaks. They began to descend again, at first on soft snow and then, as they came into the shadow of the southern peak, on hardened crust.

Steps were cut again and the party slowed accordingly. The valley widened and the west-moving sun found its way down to them again, making the snow heavy. In compensation, trees began to appear with greater and greater frequency, raising hopes for fires that evening.

A stream appeared out of nowhere and wound its way down the valley. Looking into the running water, Shokan could see rocks and earth and realized the depth of snow was much less than he had expected.

Suddenly the mountain people came to a halt on a small bench and with smiles and nods and gestures made it clear that this was as far as they would go that day. As camp was made, Shokan tried to estimate numbers. His retainers numbered thirty-three hundred, remarkable when one considered the losses they had suffered to the snow slides. There were easily that number of mountain people, whom his own men had begun to call “dwellers” or even “the Shuyuns” which they thought funny. Close to eight thousand people.

Shokan hoped he would be able to describe this to his father one day. Eight thousand people over the most impossible terrain and they had covered at least twelve rih, maybe more. It was astonishing—it was more than astonishing; it was impossible!

The dwellers surprised the lowlanders again by starting the tiniest twig fires to brew cha and do some meager cooking. These they fed constantly with dried grasses and moss and dead needles from trees. They had reacted with horror when the Shonto men had begun to cut down trees for proper fires and Shokan had quickly ordered this stopped.

The lord had to admit that despite the fact that a terrible war was perhaps already under way across the mountains he found his own situation fascinating. Almost nothing was known about these people, and here they were, chatting away cheerfully beside him.

There was so little room in the encampment that everyone was in the
closest proximity. Shonto’s men had, naturally, kept a suitable distance from their lord so that he might have a semblance of privacy, and this area had quickly been filled with the dwellers, who did not seem to have much concern for rank unless one were a wizened old man in rather bedraggled furs.

Shokan’s guards were not terribly comfortable with this, but the lord reasoned that they were entirely at the mercy of these people who could easily have murdered him before now if that was their intention. The lord resolved not to worry though it was obvious that his guard could not reach the same resolution, for they watched the dwellers near their lord and exchanged the darkest looks.

Using his hands and an art for pantomime that would have given Lady Nishima cause for pride, Shokan tried to discover the words for common things—fire, trail, food, drink. It was more difficult than he might have expected and caused much laughter.

The greatest reaction came when the lord tried to learn the words for man and woman. He was so obviously surprised at discovering the boy who carried his belongings was in fact a young woman that he thought the laughter would never stop. And the poor woman, it seemed, would be teased forever, but she took it well enough and didn’t seem to hold him responsible for his own ignorance.

Darkness came with a suddenness that was almost startling. Despite attempts to stay awake and pry as many words as possible from his fireside companions, Shokan fell asleep. The last thing he heard was the dwellers singing softly in high, thin voices—a sound both eerie and oddly comforting.

It was much later, in the middle of the night, that Shokan awoke with a start. He took a moment to sort out his memory of the evening from his dream and then convinced himself what had startled him to consciousness had been part of a dream, nothing more. Laying back down, the lord tried to banish the feeling he was left with, but with little success. In his dream the dwellers’ song had been a Botahist chant, translated into the mountain tongue and modified to suit the dwellers’ ideas of music. It was strangely disturbing to him and he lay awake for some time, unable to shake the emotions the dream had evoked—unable to shiver away the feeling of cold.

*   *   *

Morning arrived long before the light. They were on the west side of a mountain now and the sun would not find them until past midday. Shokan
had begun to believe that the dwellers were people of infinite patience, but as preparations were made to set out this was proven wrong. “Ketah,” he learned, was the word for
hurry.
If
Shuyun
had been the refrain of the previous day,
ketah
had taken its place. The highly trained fighters of the Shonto guard were bullied and badgered and hurried until Shokan feared there would be an incident, but frayed tempers were kept in check and in remarkable time the company was on the move again.

Shokan took his place behind Quinta-la, the woman he had caused so much embarrassment the night before. A small scene with his guards had ensued when Shokan insisted on carrying some of his own belongings, but he had prevailed and now carried a load, dweller style, which he was certain would soon disconnect his neck from his shoulders. Before him walked a much smaller woman carrying three times his own load; her step was light and sure. It made him smile.

If Nishi-sum had been able to bear three times as much as he, there would have been nothing to do but throw himself on his sword—a warrior had a certain pride. But the fact that this child could carry more than he could ever hope to bear caused him nothing but amusement and delight.

I have been transported to a strange world, he thought, like the stories read to me as a child.

The work of carrying a load and matching the pace of his guides soon warmed Shokan and hunger replaced the feeling of cold, for they had started out having taken neither drink nor food. There was no indication that the dwellers planned to stop for a morning meal and inns seemed sadly few.

The lord wondered idly if his retainers suffered the soreness of leg that he felt. It was obvious that Quinta-la knew no such discomfort. And this made him smile also.

There was perhaps one thing that saved the lowlanders that morning—they were taller than the mountain people, so the steps that were cut in the hard snow seemed quite close together to them. Even this small step down soon had thighs burning from the effort for every step down meant taking the extra weight of the carried load. Fatigue caused a few slips, but none of these became disasters.

By noon the leaders of the party had reached the snow line and soon only the deepest shadows still sheltered patches of white—the oddest effect; white shadows. The ground, however, was wet from days of snow-melt and
this offered its own hazards to footing. Sometime after midday the sun worked its way down among the peaks, warming the walkers and illuminating the view. Shokan was impressed with the size of the valley—broad and long and green. Still-frozen lakes like pieces of jade strung together on a bubbling stream lay in the valley bottom. As the party made its way down, the trees grew larger and less twisted. The scent of pine on the breeze was strong.

The way became a road of rock suddenly, wide slabs of stone set as though they had once been a perfect avenue but shifted by frost and time and neglect. Shokan pointed at this and made the gesture that he believed meant a question, but all he received in reply was a string of unknown sounds and a smile. He looked at his guard captain who had come up beside him.

The captain shrugged. “It is either a giant’s road or a natural formation, Sire, and I must admit I prefer neither explanation over the other.”

And this delighted the lord also—he realized he preferred it to be a mystery. They walked on with ease along this broad avenue.

What the lord had believed was mist ahead he was becoming convinced was actually smoke. Gaining the attention of Quinta-la, he pointed ahead. She spoke one of the dozen words Shokan knew—the one he believed meant fire.

“Well, yes,” he said, “but does that fire signify anything? Food, perhaps?”

The young woman broke into her childlike smile and rattled on in her own tongue, gesturing off at the distance as she did so.

“Ah, I suspected as much,” Shokan said, as though he had understood every word. “Will there be baths at this inn as well as fine meals?”

Quinta-la answered without a second’s hesitation.

They carried on this preposterous conversation for some time, talking in turn, as though there were perfect communication. Both laughing and gesturing like children.

Shokan did not see the faces of his men nearby, or he chose to ignore them, but they kept glancing at him as though he had taken leave of his senses. Only the guard captain found the exchange amusing, and he was careful not to show he was listening.

The inn turned out to be a small village, though anyone from the Empire would have had a different image in mind if given the word village as a description. It sat upon what amounted to a hill on the north side of the valley
and was almost one rambling building made of a gray-white stone and roofed with a simple dark tile. Stone walkways and walls connected all the various wings and alleys, and courtyards filled in the spaces that were left.

Shokan could not guess how many people lived in this place, but shutters opened and smiling faces appeared at windows to watch the arrival of the lowlanders. It was almost as if it happened all the time.

Thirty-eight

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