The Godspeaker Trilogy (111 page)

Rhian proves more troublesome than ever I anticipated. This business of miracles … she is ingenious in her deceits. Whether she works alone or with the Tzhung Emperor, could it be possible Damwin and Kyrin are right? Could I be mistaken, letting her journey continue?

Or should I find a swifter, simpler solution …

For Zandakar, the journey back to Kingseat woke memories of the time he rode with his mother and Raklion warlord across the wild face of Mijak with the chastened warlords who had dared to defy the god in Mijak’s Heart, and paid a terrible price for their wicked disobedience. The people of Mijak had shouted to see their warlord and their warlord’s son. They did not shout to see Hekat for she was not the empress then. But he remembered the shouting of the people when she was, and rode so proud and bold among them.

Rhian is an empress. She is Empress of Ethrea.

In those dead days it was the godspeakers and their sacrifices that showed Mijak’s people they were in the god’s eye. Here in Ethrea that was Dexterity’s doing.

He said their god is silent but it is shouting now. Their god shouts in the sunshine, it shouts with healing miracles, Dexterity is in his god’s eye even though he sheds no blood.

It was very strange. Mijak’s god did not speak through healing but through death. Mijak’s god did not speak to him, his heart stayed silent. He had promised Dexterity no more blood.

If I break my promise he will tell my secret.

Like the time before Raklion warlord, when Mijak’s seven warlords fought and killed among themselves, so was Ethrea in danger of tearing itself to pieces. If Rhian knew the truth of him, if Alasdair king and her council of dukes knew Mijak was coming, they would kill him without a thought. When Dexterity first found him he had wanted to die. Would he care now if life was taken from him?

Yes. I would care.

Even with Lilit dead, even though he was banished, even though the god was stone silent in his heart, he did not wish to lose his life.

Why this is true the god must tell me. I do not know. I wish I wished to die.

He worried for Dexterity, the toymaker was not born a godspeaker. His golden god’s power scoured him so he had to sleep in the peddler’s van when he was not making miracles. One of the dukes’ men drove it then, or Ursa if she did not need to sit with Dexterity and pour strengthening elixirs into his mouth.

He was not able to sit with Dexterity, he was warlord of Rhian’s bodyguards. No. Not warlord, he was their shell-leader. Rhian’s bodyguards were his shell. Every highsun he trained them, they were not warriors, these soldiers chosen by the dukes. The least of his warhost would have killed them in a heartbeat but they were improving. Too slowly ever to save themselves from Mijak’s warhost, but if a man of Ethrea thought to bare a blade near Rhian that man would soon die screaming in his blood.

For safety they did not sleep in buildings, they camped on open ground or by the side of rough roads. Each newsun and lowsun he danced the
hotas with Rhian. She was skilful now, she was sleek and quick. If she had learned them as a child she would be as fierce as Yuma, if she’d had as fierce a heart. Rhian was not fierce, like Lilit she was gentle. He worried she did not have a fierce, killing heart.

Their training sessions were his favourite part of the day. Dancing
hotas with Rhian he felt at peace. Rhian had danced into his hollow heart, where there had been Lilit now there was Rhian.

But he must never tell her that.

In between the
hotas there was the travelling. He loved his horse he had called Didijik. He felt like himself again, riding a horse. He felt like a warrior, like a warlord, like Zandakar.

The lowsun before they crossed the border into duchy Hartshorn they camped at the edge of a tangled woodland. He trained his shell even harder than other times. Rhian was nervous crossing into that place. Alasdair king was nervous, the dukes were nervous also. Hartshorn’s duke was an enemy. So was the Duke of Meercheq.

He knew how it felt, to have enemies wanting you dead.

When he finished training his shell they were sweating and exhausted. He was sweating also but his strength was not gone. Rhian came to dance with him, Alasdair king and the loyal dukes came to watch.

“Do you mind?” said Rhian as she stretched her body slowly in the first
hotas, her blue eyes gazing at her sharp straight blade.

“Wei,” he said. “Do you?”

“Well …” She sighed. “A little. Dancing the
hotas is time for myself. Time I needn’t worry about being watched. And now …”

He snorted. “You queen, Rhian. You sun in sky for your people. You always watched. You
wei like?” He shrugged. “You
wei be queen.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, warming her muscles, making them fluid. “Of course I’m the queen.”

“Then you be watched.”

“I
know that!” she said, her eyes angry. “I was a princess before I was a queen. I grew up being watched, Zandakar. But at least in Kingseat I had the castle, I had my own room where I could be alone. I haven’t been alone and unwatched since I set foot in the clerica. All I want now is a little time for myself when I can take off my mask.
Tcha . Anyone would think I was asking for the world.”

He frowned. “Mask?”

“It’s the face you wear when people are watching.” Abandoning her
hotas, she stood up straight, head high, shoulders back, and her expression changed from frustration to pride and confidence and strength. “The face you wear when you want other people to believe in you.
Zho? ”

Yuma had always loved being watched. She loved dancing in the god’s eye and where the people could see her. She was never truly happy unless she was seen. As the warlord’s son, and then the warlord, he had been watched too and he had enjoyed it. Rhian was strange, not to like being watched.

“
Zho . But face not make people believe, Rhian,” he said, and turned a slow cartwheel. Upright again, he looked at her. “They believe when you smite enemies.”

“How often must I tell you?” she said, and turned her own slow cartwheel, hand … hand … foot … foot, she did not drop her knife as once she always did. He had not slapped her in training for many highsuns now. When the cartwheel was finished she pressed her forehead to her knees. “I’m not smiting
anyone .”

Alasdair king and the loyal dukes stood at a distance, talking softly, waiting for the fast
hotas to start. “Enough stretching. Striking snake,” he instructed. They were here for dancing, they could not talk until night.

“Bully,” she said, and positioned herself opposite him for the
hotas that strengthened legs and back and heart.

As she raised and lowered her arms above her head, focusing her concentration, he said, “Then they are not your enemies? Marlan? Damwin? Kyrin?”

“No. Well, Marlan is,” she said, and began her first long, slow lunges, knife extended in her hand as though she would pierce him through the heart. “And Damwin and Kyrin certainly don’t support me. But I don’t believe they’re truly enemies. They’re just misguided. They’ve let themselves be blinded by Marlan and foolish ambitions they have to know will never come to anything.” Limber now, she began to lunge and thrust more swiftly, demanding greater effort from herself. “They may try to bluster me, but they know the law. They know they’ve no basis to challenge my accession.”

“Alasdair king thinks this?” he said, lunging in time with her now, letting her set the pace, letting his knife-tip stop a whisper from her breast.

“
Alasdair ?” Sweat was beading on her brow. “Alasdair thinks I’m being naïve. Alasdair says I can never trust them. He wants me to tear down their Houses, to disinherit their sons, to—” She breathed out hard. “And I won’t do it. I won’t be that kind of queen.”

“What if Alasdair king is right?”

“He’s not,” she insisted, eyes narrowed with concentration. “Why? Do you think he is?”

“I think Rhian is stupid to trust enemies. Dukes must die if not loyal to Rhian.”

“There’s a word for people who rule with fear and brutality. I’m a queen, not a tyrant. I’m not killing
anyone !”

He shifted the angle of his blade, and its tip scored a shallow groove across the back of her hand. “Then Rhian not be
hushla for long.”

“Zandakar—” Snatching her hand back, she pulled out of her lunge and sucked the welling blood from the cut. Then she turned and waved to Alasdair king, who was staring. “It’s all right!” she called out. “I’m not hurt! I just wasn’t paying attention!” Turning back, she stabbed him with a glare. “You did that on purpose!”

Shifting into a deep sideways lunge, he absorbed her anger without flinching. “You not kill, you not queen. You think enemies listen to weak word
please? Rams fighting
hotas, zho? ”

“I think any ruler who rules by fear and bloodshed is a wicked tyrant who should be thrown down,” she said, the new
hotas flowing from her like sweet breath. “My father never ruled with violence, nor his father before him, nor
his father before him. Not since the time of Rollin has a king ruled Ethrea by the sword. I
won’t be a queen who rules with blood and terror, Zandakar. I won’t shame the House of Havrell like that.”

He knew enough Ethrean words to understand she still did not grasp what it meant to be a ruler. She thought her proud face was enough to stop her people’s wicked defiance. She was wrong.

Without a god like Mijak’s god, and godspeakers who can hurt as well as heal, the people of Ethrea can defy her if they want to and she is powerless to stop them. They will defy her if she pretends she has no knife.

It made his heart hurt to think of her pretending.

“I know our ways seem strange to you,” she said, as they danced the pattern of the
hotas . “I can only imagine how harsh life must be where you come from if you believe I must rule with fear. But if it’s the only way to keep my crown, then … I’m not sure I want it.”

Aieee, the god see him. She was so like his Lilit! Gentle and compassionate, overflowing with love.

She stumbled out of the
hotas, he did not correct her. Her eyes were distressed, her pain was his. “Marlan wants to rule with fear,” she said, standing straight and catching her breath. “He wants to terrify the people with the threat of God’s anger if they don’t do what he tells them. He wants to use God as a whip and beat them with his mean interpretations of scripture. I have to be different. I have to be strong, I know that, but I can’t be like
him . And I won’t kill in God’s name, just for a crown.” She shook her head. “I may not be the most devout person in the kingdom but if I did
that I’d lose my soul for sure.”

And if you do not fight to keep your kingdom you will lose it to this Marlan or someone like him and then what will happen when Yuma and Dimmi come with the god?

The thought terrified him, and terror edged his tongue. “Then why you dance
hotas ?” he demanded. “
Hotas teach Rhian how to kill.”

She looked away again to where Alasdair king and the dukes watched them. Were they admiring her? Or did they disapprove? She should not care for them. She was queen. They were beneath her.

“They teach more than that, Zandakar,” she said. “And they help keep me fit. Now shall we continue? Or is it your opinion that I’m wasting your time?”

She was angry, she was hurt. He was sorry for that. He was afraid she would learn he was right too late.

He nodded, sharply. “
Zho, Rhian. We dance.”

And in the
hotas they lost themselves. They forgot their disagreement. They danced with their knives like two halves of one shadow … and no-one was watching. They danced alone.

L
ate that evening, private in her royal pavilion, Rhian sat cross-legged on an overstuffed cushion and dabbed more of Ursa’s ointment on the cut from Zandakar’s knife-blade. Alasdair was hunched on a leather stool, staring at the letter from Ludo he’d received that morning.

“My love, rest your eyes,” she said. “That’s the tenth time you’ve read it. The words won’t change. Nothing will change until we reach Kingseat.”

“I know,” he grunted, but kept on staring.

She wished she could pluck the letter from his fingers and fling it in the campfire, but that would only upset him. He’d been so tense since they left Linfoi. So curt and swift to snap.

“No news doesn’t mean bad news, Alasdair. There’s no reason to think harm’s come to Henrik.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Your uncle
will be all right,” she said, for what felt like the thousandth time. “Marlan won’t dare—”

“A cornered animal will dare almost anything,” said Alasdair. “He dared beating you and that was
before you made yourself queen.”

She stared, her heart thumping. “
Made myself queen? Alasdair—”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” In the lamplight his face was shadowed. She couldn’t see its expression. “You know what I mean.”

She knew he was angry and frightened for Henrik. She knew he was overwhelmed by what they’d started.
What I’ve started. He was prepared to let me go without a protest so I could be married to another man. If I hadn’t forced things he wouldn’t be king . Was he wishing she hadn’t forced them? Was he sorry she’d run to him?
I can’t ask him. Not now. Perhaps not ever. What’s done is done. It’s too late to turn back .