Tivi's Dagger (6 page)

“
What’s so funny?” Kel asked, eyeing
me suspiciously.

“
Nothing, cousin. I am too tired to
think properly. I was just imagining Brin whipping his slaves into
line, that’s all.”

Kel sighed. “It is a picture I can easily
see, more’s the pity. That man needs something earthly to occupy
his mind. Why has he not taken a wife, now that he is no longer
a…”

“
Brin’s personal life should not
interest you,” I cut in with a warning glare.

Kel had not been out in society long enough
to learn that in Azmara, a well-guarded tongue was as necessary to
survival as meat and drink. As a Protector, sworn to celibacy, Brin
had renounced all claims on the family fortune. Now, branded
Apostate, he had no rights to reclaim it. By encouraging him to
invoke the Rite my father was both sympathizing with and indulging
my brother while simultaneously punishing me, thus satisfying both
of his most natural impulses.

I sighed. “We come from a fine family,
Kel.”

He looked glum. “That we do.”

All this contemplation of our family
had the desired effect upon my cock. I stepped out of the pool and
took my towel. “I will eat, then sleep. Oh yes, and
pray
.”

Kel laughed. “One day I would hear
your prayers, Ned. They would certainly be interesting.
Oh Thirteen Gods, may my sheets always be made of
silk, may the wine at the Duck flow like piss from a cow, may the
women be perfumed and plump, may…”

“
Silence!” A smile broke through my
attempt at a glare. “How about your own?
Oh Thirteen Gods, may someone pluck me from the library and
find a wench to play with my poor little cock, lest it wither and
die for want of use
!”

“
Your arse speaks finely, cousin.” Kel
grinned and then immersed himself fully in the steamy waters. His
dark braids floated around his head like the tentacles of an
octopus. “My mind and belly are satisfied; it is enough for me just
now.”

Chuckling, I dried myself quickly and pulled
on my clothes. It was unpleasant to don the sweat-stiff materials
again now I was clean, but one night was not enough time to dry the
wretched vestments, should I have felt inclined to wash them.

Kari was listening to our banter with a lazy
smile. “I will stay a while longer, Ned,” he said. “To the
dawn.”

I made my way through the beautiful garden
and inside to the room I was to share with my brother. He would
surely be happy that I had not tarried on my excursion to the
outhouse. Just as I was about to open the door I heard sounds from
within and paused, pressing my ear to the wood. Brin was praying
already. I knew I should not eavesdrop on my brother’s private
entreaties to his gods, but I could not help myself. I clutched my
damp towel to my chest and listened.

“…
Lord Rithmas, I was ever your
faithful servant. But you have seen fit, in your infinite wisdom,
to punish me so. Please, grant me the strength to bear it.” There
was a silence punctuated by a snuffling sound, and I realized with
a shock that my brother was weeping. “If you ever loved me, please
let these travels be the salve. I can barely stand to live in such
times, in such a manner. May Duty be the light that guides me from
this darkness.” He mumbled a few more words then finished with a
hiccup.

I let out a long, silent breath and my fists
clenched tight. Suddenly I wanted to march back to Azmara and burn
the Protectors’ biggest Temple to the ground with all of them
inside. I wanted to laugh while their flesh bubbled and roasted in
the flames. I wanted them all to die for everything they had done
to my big brother, whom I’d adored and idolized back when we were
small boys building castles of sand and shell on the beach. The
rush of intense hatred swept my breath away. It was not often that
I wanted to defend Brin, but much as I loathed him sometimes, his
tears burned me like acid.

I tiptoed back down the hall and back into
the bar where I ordered a bowl of stew to give my brother time to
compose himself. I feared what Brin would do to me if he knew I had
heard his prayers and his tears. The stew was hearty and filling. I
chewed upon a particularly tough piece of meat reflectively,
considering what duty my brother would embrace after our pilgrimage
came to an end, now that his sole purpose in life had been kicked
out from under him.

When enough time had passed, I strode up the
stairs and down to our room, whistling loudly so that Brin would
surely hear my approach and be normal again when I saw him. He was
already sprawled over the bed, gape-mouthed in sleep, his eyes
puffy and red in the dim light of the candle. Glad that I would not
be required to pray, I kissed him on the forehead. “Sleep well,
brother,” I murmured, climbed into my own bed — stiff white sheets
warmed nicely by a hot stone — and snuffed out the candle on a very
eventful evening.

Chapter 2

My dreams were a whirling patchwork of the
previous day’s activities, flashes of color and misty grays that
bled together to form the sharp image of Kari in the pool, stroking
my face, kissing me with hunger, his rough hands on my cock working
me up to a vicious climax through a fog of warmth, the echo of my
heart in my ears.

When I woke up, beads of sweat had broken
out on my forehead. The bedcovers were thrown off and rumpled under
my naked body. Momentarily disoriented, I ran my fingers over the
fluid pooled on my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I had not
had such a wonderful dream since I was a teenager, sweating between
the crisp sheets of my bunk bed in the school dormitory on those
long, muggy Azmara spring nights, with my imagination fuelled to
madness by arousing images from the long-forbidden Book of Love
that one of the other boys had found stashed under the
floorboards.

Then I realized my brother was staring at me
with furious eyes, wiping the side of his face with a cloth.

“
Even in your sleep you fornicate, you
disgusting wretch! Your mind is truly riddled with impurity and
evil imaginings. These are not the actions of one who seeks
Serenity! I wake up to …” He scrubbed at his cheek again and I
realized with horror what must have happened. “By the Gods, it’s
clear you have no control of yourself, brother, nor shame. Cover
your nakedness! Get on your knees and beg the forgiveness of the
Gods!”

He reached into his backpack and rummaged
about with his mouth set in an ominous line.

I knew what he kept in there and sat up on
my elbows, alarmed. “Brindar, wait! I am sorry. I couldn’t
help…”

He spun round, his eyes narrowed.
“Nedim, you can never
help
.
It must be a sorry existence you lead, to be at the mercy of your
flesh’s every sickening whim. But you are not yet lost. I will not
allow it, do you hear? You can be a better man than this; I know it
in my heart. You’ll thank me when you finally purge these passions
from your body and achieve Serenity, as is the desire of the Gods.
Now, on your knees!” He pulled the whip from his bag and stood
up.

“
Please, don’t…”

“
Silence! Begin the Entreaties, and
pray the Gods are listening!”

My mouth was dry as I knelt at the side of
the bed, hands clasped and shaking. As I began to recite the
Entreaties of Purity, my brother punctuated my pleas with a stroke
of the whip across my back. It was made of soft leather designed
for instruction, not to cut the flesh. Nevertheless, the strokes
brought tears to my eyes and I carried on with the Entreaties in as
clear a voice as I could muster. As the words fell from my lips, I
closed my eyes and took myself away from that dismal room and my
brother’s rage, back to the porch at home, where the servants would
soon be laying out breakfast — a circle of silver platters with a
selection of the best dried meats, blue cheeses from across the
sea, ripe tomatoes, and sweet tea in glasses. The scent of the
harbor filled my head. I could almost feel the sun on my face as
gulls laughed and circled overhead.

When the instruction was over I allowed my
consciousness to return to the room, shivering. Stripes of pain
were stinging across my back. Brin’s breathing was as heavy as my
own. Gingerly, I sat back on the bed and wiped the involuntary
tears from my cheeks. When the material of my shirt scraped across
my back I had to stifle a whine of pain. How was I supposed to
carry a pack now?

“
You can pack your things onto the
donkey,” Brin said, his grim expression softening a little. “As you
walk today, fix your mind upon the teachings of the Thirteen.
Purity of thought is beloved by the Gods, and it is the first step
toward true Serenity.” He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“I love you, brother, despite your lustful heart and this feckless
waste of a life you choose for yourself. This is for your own good,
all of it. Often have I warned you that you’re in danger, although
you do not seem to realize it. Lis is no place to live a life of
sin. Especially not since Sardar Pol has taken charge of the
Protectors.”

“
Yes, brother.” My voice was small and
pathetic even to my own ears.

It was Brin’s opposition to Pol — a man with
beliefs more extreme than even my brother cared for — that had
ultimately led to his expulsion and disgrace. Although Brin had
adored his position as Protector, he was never fully at ease at
home because — much as he enjoyed preaching over dinner — the
reality was that our father was an elderly widower who liked more
than the occasional glass of wine, and when he got lonely he would
hire the services of a “tailor woman” who would come to “measure
him for a new suit.”

Such euphemisms were the foundation upon
which high society in Lis was built.

A family of many-suited sinners had given
Brin no end of sleepless nights at the family shrine, burning his
offerings and lashing his flesh, praying for our eternal souls on
knees that scraped against the harsh stone as if his blood could
make us clean again.

I watched him flex the hand he had used to
hold the whip, and sorrow flickered across his features.

This hurts me too.

Part of me wanted to grab Brin by the throat
and choke the life out of him for his hypocrisy, but then I
remembered everything I stood to lose if I defied him. I stood up
and slowly pulled on the rest of my clothes. It felt as if my blood
had come alive underneath my skin, such was the cold, mutinous rage
that was creeping over me. Sulkily, I refused to join him for
breakfast and sat on the edge of the bed where the sheets were
soaked with my sweat and tears, nibbling on a sliver of dried meat.
When my brother came to say we were leaving, I followed him stiffly
without a word.

The others were waiting on the path that led
out of the village, chatting idly and petting the donkey. It was a
beautiful morning. The mountain mists had lifted and shafts of
sunlight were shining down through the clouds. The pale birds were
circling above and the grasses were high and buzzing with life. The
pine trees all around us shone green in the fleeting sunlight.

Kari turned and smiled at me, and for a
second I felt as if one of those sunbeams was shining directly onto
my face.

Then Brin asked him something and at the
sound of my brother’s voice I remembered what a bad mood I was in.
Ignoring Lana and Kel’s curious glances at my lack of a pack, I
kept my eyes downcast and trailed behind the party as we left the
village.

The path we were taking followed the river
and I was glad of the sound of the water. It was like listening to
the voice of Methar itself and the rushing rapids soothed my mind
somewhat, even as my back stung and ached under the scratchy
material of my shirt. We walked beside the tall reeds and leaping
fish most of the morning; Lana was chatting to Kari and Kel and
trying to engage Brin, who was leading the donkey with a dark look
on his face, occasionally grunting a response.

Eventually, a wooden building came into view
on the left side of the road where it nestled among thick-trunked
pines. Kari pointed to it with a smile of apparent relief. “A
Pilgrim’s Rest. There are many along the way. Let us sit for a
while. I’ll gather some plants from the forest around that we may
eat.”

I let out a faint sigh of dismayed
resignation that was swallowed up by the sounds of the river. A
peasant’s meal of forest plants was a far cry from the smoked meats
and bowls of exotically spiced mash I would normally enjoy at
lunchtime, but by that point I would have gnawed the leg off a
table, such was the grumbling in my stomach. As my brother was
tethering the donkey, Lana put her hand on my back and I could not
stop myself from flinching at her touch.

She looked into my eyes with concern and
lowered her voice. “He has used the whip already, has he not?”

“
It is nothing.” My cheeks flamed with
sudden humiliation.

“
Oh, Ned.” She cupped my face in her
hands and her brown eyes softened. “I thought to distract him with
conversation, to keep him off your back on this tiresome journey.
It seems I haven’t been successful. What reasons did he give for
this abuse?”

“
There’s nothing you can do. The Rite
gives him good enough reason to punish me in any way and for
anything he chooses. It’s
for my own
good
.” I finished with a stern imitation of my
brother’s voice and we sat together on the ground. I threw a stone
into the river. Cold dampness soaked into the seat of my trousers
but I didn’t care.

“
Then I will stick to you like a
barnacle. I’ll not allow him to beat you again, Ned. It’s enough
that you’ve been brought to this,
yes
brother, no brother,
sniveling like a manservant.” A
crease appeared between her eyebrows. “I can hardly stand to watch
it.”