The Oathbreaker's Shadow (11 page)

The bolt on his door opened with a clank and an imposing hooded figure entered the room, features obscured by shadow. The figure lowered her hood. It was Mhara.

Her face and neck were drenched in sweat; Raim could see the outline of moisture on her tunic. He had been relieved to see her; now he was afraid. Her eyes were narrow; there was none of the kindred affection he was used to receiving the other apprenticese was I to the ground from the i from her. Now there was just anger – anger and something else, something unreadable.

‘Tell me it isn’t true, Raim.’ But she didn’t wait for him to reply. She strode across the room, dragged him to his feet by grabbing his sleeve and threw him out of the door. When they were in the hallway, she spun a knife out from under her uniform and sliced through Dharma’s scarf so that the silvery fabric fluttered to the ground in two pieces. The crimson scar lay beneath.

She screamed in anguish at the sight of the hidden mark, the sounds from her lips foreign, feverish and incomprehensible. Her knife clattered against the ground; the metallic jolt seemed to right her senses. Raim scooped the pieces of scarf up from the ground. Holding them comforted him.

‘You have to run.’

‘But—’

‘No buts, Raim! You don’t understand what you have done! How could you? You were the Yun’s hope, the future . . . I’ve distracted the guards, but not for long. You must go.’ She shoved him down the hallway.

Out of sheer instinct and frustration, he shoved her back. ‘I can’t leave, Mhara. That would mean I couldn’t join the Yun! I’ve dreamed about it my whole life! Not to mention the Absolute Vow I made to Khareh.’ He grabbed at the knot around his neck. ‘Don’t you get it? I’m his Protector. I’m the Khan’s Protector.’

‘No.’

‘No? What do you mean, “no”? Can’t you see this knot?’

‘I see the knot, but you will not be the Khan’s Protector. Khareh will not be the Khan.’

‘What?’ The question came spitting out of Raim’s mouth. It was the most venomous thing Mhara had ever said to him.

But Mhara just looked exasperated. ‘They were going to make the announcement today, when all the new Yun had been initiated. The Khan’s wife, the Seer-Queen,
is pregnant! The child will be the Khan. Not Khareh.’

Raim stared at her in disbelief. ‘It . . . it doesn’t matter!’ he said, more brazenly than he felt. ‘I am still Khareh’s Protector for life. I have made the vow. Whatever this stupid scar on my wrist means, I don’t care. I don’t even know what it’s for! This is not supposed to happen! I’m not going back on my word to Khareh.’

Mhara just shook her head. ‘They’ll kill you. Look at the scar. Whatever promise you made then, was so you could have no other duty in life, not Yun, not Khareh’s Protector, not even a lowly soldier, not anything. If you stay here, you die. Your only chance is to run.’

‘But where?’ Raim spluttered, the magnitude of her suggestion overwhelming him. ‘And why would they kill me?’

‘Don’t you see? Your final test is to see whether you are free to promise yourself to the service of the Yun. How can you promise us anything when you have this scar?’ She held up his wrist. ‘And surely no one is stupid enough to make a promise without knowing exactly what it is and what the obligations are. They see that scar? They will kill you. You are unfit.’

̵vily in his ha

Raim hurtled out of the Rentai, out into a city teeming with festival revellers. He stuck to the shadows, the darkness concealing his far-too-recognizable silhouette. He took refuge behind a cloth banner, which hung from a tall window, the knotted symbol on the flag of Batar-Khan looking down on him like an eye judging his escape. He said a quick prayer of forgiveness to Sola, then gave the banner a sharp tug, sending it tumbling to his feet. He threw it around his shoulders and over his head, using it to pass through the throng of people undetected.

He heard his name several times, and resisted the urge to look the speakers in the eye – despite the spurious gossip being tossed around. ‘I heard from my uncle, who was inside the palace, that Raim promised himself to two warlords other than the Prince – can you believe it? That’s why he has been exiled.’

‘So greedy for power.’

‘I hear he’s been an oathbreaker all along, and only pretended to be eligible to join the Yun.’

‘They say he’s jealous of the Prince, and tried to kill him! Thank the gods he’ll be in Sola’s hands soon, the traitor.’

Raim gritted his teeth, put his head down and surged through the crowd, refusing to halt until he came to a hole in the dust-and-stone walls ofhe Western Eye of Sheba of the >< he couldhe old man the city’s perimeter. He imagined the eyes of the Yun on his back, and the Rentai’s tiered rooftops looming ominously behind him like a monstrous multi-winged bird. He pushed himself through the crack and darted through the maze of tents.

He ran, his feet pounding against the ground, past old men smoking pipes, past boys stoking the fires and girls drawing pictures in the ground with long twigs. One of the girls recognized him; he was surprised more people didn’t after all the attention that had been showered on him over the past twenty-four hours. She shouted his name, but he ignored her and ducked and swerved between the yurts until he reached the edge of the camp, almost completely out of breath. He pressed down on his knees, unable to move. He had to decide where to go. No matter how insistent Mhara was, he couldn’t go to the desert. He had to go somewhere he could solve his puzzle, his mystery. He needed to get back to Loni, but their yurt was on the other side of the city and that would be the first place the Yun would look. He had to keep moving forward.

He thought of the corrals, where the horses were fenced in. He was very close to them; already the stench of dried grass and manure grew stronger. If he could steal a horse, he could move a lot faster. Of course, if – when – they pursued him, most of the Yun would be on horseback.

When he reached the corrals, there was someone already there waiting for him.

‘Where is your shadow? Where is it?’ Khareh had madness in his eyes, and he launched himself off the fence and onto Raim, his fists flying. One caught Raim on the cheek, and sent him hurtling to the ground, too shocked to try and block the blow. Khareh fell on top of him, pinning him down.

‘Khareh, no! I haven’t betrayed you!’ Raim said. He couldn’t let his friend think that. He struggled to free himself from Khareh’s grip, but he only held on tighter.

‘But the scar!’

Raim could feel Khareh’s gaze burning through the material on his arm. ‘Yes, yes, there’s a scar. But it’s not from my vow to you! Look. Look around my neck. That’s my promise to you – it is still intact.’

There was a long moment of hesitation, then Khareh sat back, freeing Raim’s arms. Raim quickly reached into his tunic and pulled out his promise vow to Khareh. ‘See?’

Khareh rolled off Raim and sat on the floor. Then he burst out laughing.

‘I thought you had betrayed me, Raim. Gods, I was so angry.’ He jumped up to his feet and extended a hand to
Raim. Full of relief that his friend believed him, Raim clasped it eagerly, and allowed himself to be pulled upright. ‘You are the only person I trust – you’re still my Protector, right?’

‘Always,’ said Raim, deadly serious.

‘Good, because I need your help. The sage from the desert has revealed to me the first step to becoming a sage myself, but it’s . . . unpleasant. First though, tell me everything. How can we fix this?’

Raim slumped against the fence, and ran a hand over his closely shaven head. ‘Mhara said that the Yun want to kill me. The final test is making sure the apprentice is free to join the Yun, with no prior oaths that would make Yun induction impossible – becoming your Protector is obviously allowed, as that doesn’t interfere with the Yun. But you know that bracelet . . . the one I used to say was a good luck charm from Dharma? to speakbllifd’

Khareh nodded, his expression sombre now.

‘It must have held another vow, a vow I made before I can remember.’

‘But you have no shadow! That must mean something.’

‘I know . . . but I have the scar. That is enough for the Yun. They believe the scar renders any vow I make after that invalid.’

His voice was barely a whisper. ‘So does that make your vow to me invalid?’

‘No, Khareh, no! I will always be your Protector – for life, like I promised. Look, surely the fact that I have no
shadow means I’m not fully Chauk yet. I just need to find my grandfather. Help me get to him. He will know what to do. I just need time – time to find the person who I made this promise to and have them forgive it.’ Raim looked into Khareh’s eyes and saw the conflict that was raging there – the doubt mixed with the desire to trust. He knew Khareh so well . . . so well that he knew he would have great difficulty in trusting someone branded as an oathbreaker. If the situation were reversed, Raim wasn’t sure he could overcome it. But this was Khareh. This was his best friend. If his
best friend
couldn’t believe him, who would? He waited, to see if the tide would change. Then, there it was: the shift.

There was a look in Khareh’s eye, a small, unreadable sparkle. ‘I will give you more than time. I will help you.’

Raim hesitated. ‘No – you should stay out of this . . . you should stay away from me, for now.’

‘Don’t be stupid. You’ll never be able to do this by yourself. Maybe the Protected has to save the Protector sometimes. I tell you what, make me promise you something.’

‘Khareh, I would never make you do that. I am a wanted man, a dead man. You don’t want to make a promise to me.’

‘I really want to help you, Raim. And this will prove my loyalty to you, just like you have proved your loyalty to me.’

The emotions of the past hour caught up with Raim all at once. His face burning, he turned away, so Khareh wouldn’t catch the tears of anguish that were rolling down his face. He wiped them away brusquely. ‘How have I proved my loyalty? By as good as breaking my promise to you?’

‘No!’ Khareh’s shout shocked Raim. ‘Look at your promise knot. It’s not broken. You are still my Protector. I believe you. You won’t have to go to Lazar. I have a plan. First, let me promise something to you. Anything, but make it a big one, make it important.’

There was only one promise Raim could think of. ‘Khareh, promise me that you will take care of Dharma. The Moloti will be shamed by my apparent betrayal. All they will know is that I was arrested by the Yun . . . they won’t understand. Protect her.’

Without hesitation, Khareh slapped Raim on the shoulder. ‘Done. I promise.’

Raim removed the second length of promise string from around his waist. It felt strange to have used up so much of the string already. And the one knot he had expected to make today – the one to zar. It is the

The miles flew past beneath Garna’s hooves as she thundered across the steppe. For the first time, Raim cursed the flat and interminable terrain of his homeland. He couldn’t believe that the Yun would be fooled by Khareh’s deception for long. He was sure they would see him, or the great clouds of dust Garna was leaving behind her. He imagined every gust of wind blowing them closer, but whenever he looked back, he could see nothing following him but the ever-growing darkness.

Though she was fast, Garna could not gallop for ever and even before the sun had set Raim realized he could push her no further, especially without any nourishment. They were still a long way from Pennar, at least a day’s ride if Raim kept his course straight. But if the Yun were to come they would take the straightest course, to warn the people along the path of a fugitive – a vow-fugitive at that, and the first ever Yun apprentice to be outcast before the
final test. He remembered when his tribe had come across a man hiding from his destiny with the Chauk. The man had been stoned to death without mercy.

No, Raim would need to take a different road and avoid the well-trodden routes.

His stomach grumbled. With the fear subsiding, he was suddenly reminded that he had left Kharein without any kind of provisions. The clothes on his back stank of sweat and dirt softened. ‘You should ebl
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seco from the ride, and his legs ached from straddling Garna bareback. His first priority had to be finding water and food, and then they would both be ready to make the final push towards Pennar. Along their current path there was no water source, but Raim knew that a freshwater tributary from the River Iod ran to the south of them, and came up the underside of an ancient monastery. All along there grew the wild vines of Rago, where he was sure they would find berries to eat.

He hopped down off Garna’s back and rubbed her muzzle. Her deep black coat was covered in foamy white sweat.

‘C’mon girl, let’s get you some water.’

He reached down and pulled up some brush from the ground, careful to preserve the roots. He dragged it along the ground behind the two of them, trying to obscure their prints, which ran deep in the soil. Now that they were moving slowly, they had to be extra careful.

They walked for an hour, and when the darkness finally caught up with them it swallowed them whole. As he
waited for his eyes to adjust to the night, he followed the sound of water, which grew louder with every step. At the edge of the river he collapsed, his knees sinking into the mud. The water ran fresh and cool over his cupped hands and he took several long draughts to refresh himself. Garna took her cue and jumped in, sending water showering over Raim.

‘Hey, you!’ He jumped in after her and put his hand around her neck, swimming with her and edging her on gently until they reached the other riverbank. He knew he had to keep going, without pause, if he was to make it to the sanctuary in time to cover his tracks.

The air around him was thick and pungent with the aroma of fruit, and Raim’s mouth watered. The vines of Rago grew some of the most delicious berries in Darhan. They were often pressed and fermented to create wine, but all the tribes who stopped here on their journeys took advantage of eating the fruit raw, a delicacy found nowhere else. The berry could not be transported; it rotted only hours after being released from the vine. The ground beneath his feet was ankle deep in the decaying fruit, and he sighed. He wished he had chosen a food source that lasted longer.