The Three Lands Omnibus (2011 Edition) (82 page)

Too grateful to John to know what to say, I remarked lightly, "I didn't know that the priests at this house were allowed to travel."
"They aren't – but I'm not a priest. I'm a trader."
"A
trader
?"
My voice lost its customary evenness, and John laughed, breaking the tension. "You needn't act so surprised," he said. "I'm not the first boy to entertain himself with lofty ambitions of becoming a voice for the god, only to spend his days as a man arguing whether two geese are a fair bargain for three hens. I enjoy being able to travel, and it gives me the opportunity to meet new people. But sometimes I feel the need to come back here and offer up prayer and sacrifice to the god."
"Which god do you pray to?" I asked curiously. My hand was touching something on the table, and I looked down to see what it was. A book lay among several that John must have brought with him, and it was open to a picture of the seven god-masks.
John waited until I had looked up again before saying, "Any god who will speak to me. When the god sends his peace, it doesn't matter to me which mask he wears."
The sound of the men's voices had long since faded, to be replaced by something deeper and more solid: a silence as naked and precise as an unsheathed sword. As a boy I had thought of the silence here as a mere absence of sound and had scorned its comfort. Now I saw that the god's peace was gentle and soothing only in the same way that John himself was: underneath the tranquility was something firm and distinctly delineated. I breathed in and felt the sound of my breath break the silence like the warm moisture of breath breaking the crisp coldness of winter.
I said, "You're fortunate to have such security to turn toward. I wish that the Jackal had been able to help me during my early years in Emor. Are you here now to seek the god's help with any trouble in your life?"
John swung away, and for a moment I thought I had offended him with the directness of my question. Then he walked over to the mask. He placed his left hand upon the stiff black cloth, touched the mask briefly like a man touching his beloved on the cheek. As he let his hand fall, he said, "I suppose that the gods always bring peace to those who pray to them, but their ways are mysterious to men and often seem senseless. I hope there's meaning to what they do, for I came here to pray, not for my own peace, but Koretia's. Things are very bad here." He turned back.
"I know," I said quietly. "That is why my master and the other lords have come to Koretia. Though you may not believe it, we Emorians are seeking peace as well."
I had phrased my last sentence deliberately, to gauge his reaction. He replied with ease, "I believe it. On my visit to Emor, I visited some of the borderland villages, and I heard what the Koretians had done to the villagers there at the beginning of the Border Wars. It seemed to me then that the Chara had shown mercy by enslaving us rather than destroying us for our deeds. But that was long ago, and people here are growing restless in their bonds. It is as though they are just waiting for a sign before they rise up against the Emorians."
"A sign from the Jackal?" My eye caught sight of the mask once more; the painted curves danced in the candlelight. "My master tells me the thieves have been busy."
John shook his head and sank to his knees beside his pack. "I don't know what the spark will be. But if the city goes up in flames again, whether it be months from now or days from now, neither the Jackal nor any other god will be able to bring this land its peace. After fifteen years in captivity, the people here are becoming set in their opinions as to whether the Emorian rule is a good thing. Everyone has been forced to take sides, and this has caused brother to turn against brother."
I said nothing for a minute, watching him pull from the pack some clothes, a few items of food, and the type of satchel in which traders carry their documents. I said, "I think I know, without asking, which side my blood brother has taken."
John smiled again. "I'm on the side of peace. I don't see any way to have peace without gaining our freedom, but while it's easier to kill an Emorian than to talk with him, I think it's less likely to bring peace in the end."
"We wanted to become the Jackal's thieves at one time."
"You wanted it. I wasn't sure whether it was right to kill a man. I'm still not sure."
He began to open the satchel, and then closed it again and rested his hand on the worn leather, not looking my way. I said softly, "You were there with a dagger when I needed you. You are a peacemaker, but you are not a coward."
"Thank you." John's voice was as faint as though he spoke from a great distance. Without looking up, he said, "I had planned to leave tonight; I have important business in one of the towns. But now you are here, and I confess that I'm also curious to see what Emorian noblemen are like. Do you think that your master would be willing to exchange a few words with me?"
"I've told him about you," I replied. "He will want to exchange more than a few words with my blood brother."
John knelt back on his haunches and tilted his head up. His hair fell over his eyes, shading them like shutters on a window. "If you stayed with your master after he freed you, he must be a good man."
"He is—" My throat closed before I could finish. "He's hard to describe. You'll have to judge him for yourself."
John continued to look at me, as though waiting for me to say more. When I remained silent, he rose to his feet and said, "I must go request permission to stay here one more night; then I'll come by to see you. I have—" There was a pause, during which I drunk in once more the sight of John's still, serene face, sometimes smiling, sometimes serious, but always full of peace. Finally he said softly, "I have very much missed you. If your master will allow you the freedom, I would like us to spend some time together during your visit to Koretia."
"Whether he allows me to or not," I said, "you may be sure that we will."
I returned to the Chara's room and found Lord Carle there, trying on the Jackal's mask.
I stopped just outside the doorway. Around the corner to my left, I could hear Peter protesting mildly, "Carle, if you wish to be blasphemous, please wait until we return home. I don't want for you to be dragged away some night by the Jackal's thieves because you've offended their god."
"I am being but a loyal Emorian by committing blasphemy to a Koretian god," said Lord Carle, pulling off the mask. "And there are no Koretians here to take note – unless, of course, Andrew is preparing his report for the Jackal now."
I stepped into the room and said coolly, "I am Emorian."
"That statement was implausible in Emor and is ridiculous here. Have you had your joyous reunion with your Koretian blood brother?" Lord Carle tossed the mask face-down onto the pallet beside him.
"Lord Carle," warned the Chara softly.
He was sitting on the pallet against the wall beside the door, his knee drawn up and his right arm casually slung on top of it. He held Lord Carle's eyes. After a moment, the council lord bowed in acquiescence to him and said to me, "I am corrected. You are Emorian. Now, if the Cha— If Lord Peter will excuse me, I will consult with Lord Dean and discover whether there is a single windowed chamber in this smoke-clogged building."
I stepped back and let him pass before walking over to pick up the Jackal's mask from where it had been flung.
"Did you find John?" Peter asked as I carefully replaced the mask on the wall.
I nodded as I turned. At Peter's gesture, I came forward and sat next to him, pausing on the way to close and lock the door with the key we had been given by the priests. "It was good to be able to talk with him again."
"I have always appreciated your gift for understatement. Leaving aside Lord Carle's sarcasm, it must indeed have been a joyous reunion – that is, if John is still the friend you remember."
"He is like I remembered him." I leaned my head back against the wall, staring at the god's mask on the opposite wall. "When I saw him last, fifteen years ago, he was saying that we should make peace with Emor, and today he was saying the same thing."
"Well," said Peter quietly, "then I suppose that you and he have made your peace over the fact that you stayed in Emor."
"Yes." As I closed my eyes, I felt a smile drift over my lips. I heard Peter get up. When I opened my eyes again, he was standing over me with a wine pitcher and two cups. He handed them to me, and then eased himself down beside me.
"Tell me what you think of this," he said. "It is a gift from our hosts, and while my first taste led me to conclude that the priests are in the pay of the Jackal and that they are trying to poison us, I may be wrong."
I poured myself a cup and tasted it. "I'm sorry to inform you, Peter, that this is fine wild-berry wine, and our hosts will be much insulted if you don't finish the pitcher. So you must at least find some ground to empty the wine onto."
Peter sighed as he took the cup back that I offered him. "My father told me when I was young that the Chara must suffer for his people, but I didn't fully understand what he meant until this journey. I am depending on you to help me with this pitcher." He took a sip, made a sour face, and promptly took another sip. "So your friend desires peace. I suppose that it's easy for him to find peace in a house such as this."
"He doesn't live here. He is a trader."
"A trader. . . ." Peter leaned his chin onto the rim of the cup and left it there for a moment, meditating. "Do you think that your blood brother would be willing to speak to an Emorian lord?"
"He asked me whether my noble master would be willing to speak to him." I looked sideways over at Peter as he gulped down the last of his wine, shuddered, and poured himself a second cup. "Peter . . . What sort of questions do you plan to ask him?"
"Nothing that I couldn't learn from any other Koretian; I'm not planning to wring secrets from him. But if he's a trader, he'll know what the people throughout this land think of the Chara and his rule, and that is the sort of information that I've found it difficult to obtain through my spies." He put down his cup and stared at it. "If you want me to tell him who I am, I will. I can't ask you to keep secrets from your blood brother."
"Thank you," I said, "but it has been many years since I saw him, and while I know that he wishes you no harm, I don't know whether he's the type of man who can keep a secret. I don't want to put you in danger, even if it means hiding something from him."
He was silent for a minute. Then he handed me his cup and said, "Will you finish this for me? I promise you, I will try it again later, until I love it as much as any Koretian, but I think that my Emorian body cannot stand any more of a shock than it has already undergone during this journey."
I laughed before sipping from the cup. "Peter, it's your own fault. I am Emorian, you know that, but even so, I think you're a fool to have us wear these woolen Emorian tunics in the middle of a Koretian summer. Wouldn't it be possible for you to demonstrate your love for Koretia by having us adopt the native dress during our visit?"
Peter smiled at me. "That is advice worth considering. I knew that I brought you on this trip for some reason other than friendship. Would you consider becoming one of my council lords?"
"Lord Carle might have some objection."
"Well," said Peter, "I wouldn't want to hurt Lord Carle's feelings, as I'm feeling friendly toward him at the moment. We had a pleasant conversation just now."
"On military matters or on Koretian barbarities?"
"Both. He told me that a priest who visits the city regularly told him that the Jackal and his thieves have been unusually quiet during the past few days. On most occasions, I would have continued to keep the conversation steered away from his views on Koretia. Instead, I found myself explaining to him that Koretia is the most barbaric, fly-infested land I've ever visited." He smiled at me.
John said coolly, "If you wish to avoid Koretia's blood-flies, it is best to come during the winter."
Peter's smile faded as he turned to look back at the doorway where John stood in his priestly robe. The door had been closed and locked a moment before; I wondered how he had managed to make his way in.
The Chara said quietly, "I ought not to have been making such remarks while being hosted by Koretians. I apologize for causing offense." Then he gestured in the manner that I had seen him do only once before, touching his breast and forehead.
John continued to stand at the doorway, and for a moment it seemed that he would make no reply, either in word or gesture. Finally he said, "No, you spoke truly. Koretia is undoubtedly fly-infested, and it is also barbaric in certain ways. In any case, it is hard to become used to life in a different land." He returned Peter's greeting with a smooth motion of the hand. Then, apparently taking this exchange as permission enough, he closed the door and sat down cross-legged in front of us without another word. I handed him the cup of wine from which I had been sipping.
Peter gestured away the second cup that I filled and offered to him. "It is a pleasure to meet Andrew's blood brother at last. Andrew is not very talkative about his past – it is unwise to be talkative in the Chara's palace, where we live – but he has told me enough about you to intrigue me."
John stared back at Peter, his dark eyes unreadable. Finally he said simply, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well."
The quirk of a smile began to quiver at the edge of the Chara's face. He controlled himself and said, "I hear that you are a trader."
Once again John was silent, his gaze focussed on Peter. I leaned back against the wall, watching the two men fight some private dagger-duel through the eyes. John's voice, when he replied, was low. "I do not suppose that, as an Emorian, you are familiar with the life of a Koretian trader. We travel the country, carrying no goods with us, but instead arrange for barters between merchants who will later deliver the goods themselves. Because we carry no goods, we can travel quickly, and because we travel widely, we are generally the first to hear rumors and to learn what is happening throughout the land. We are the first, besides the governor's soldiers, to know when a Koretian has been arrested; we are the first, besides the Jackal's thieves, to know when an Emorian has been murdered. Unless he consulted the Chara's spies, it is unlikely that an Emorian would be able to find anyone who could tell him as much about the Koretian people as a trader."