Tivi's Dagger (9 page)

“
All this cleanliness…even the
drinking of wine, it’s all so…civilized. You raise your glass all
together, and it’s so comradely, and —”

Kari laughed. “Actually, it is not such a
lovely custom. The tradition of using glasses and holding them to
the sky makes it easier to ascertain if the drink has been
poisoned.”

“
Oh.” I lay down on my mattress,
suddenly weary. It had been an exhausting day. Brin was already
asleep, his arm draped over his precious box. Kel sat cross-legged
on his mattress, engrossed in the Book of Matativi and scrawling in
his notebook, muttering to himself. Lana lay facing me with her
back to Kel, eyes closed, her breathing slipping quickly into the
rhythms of sleep.

“
You don’t mind if I study a while
longer?” Kel whispered, when he realized everyone else was already
tucked under the covers.

“
Go ahead,” I muttered, turning my
back to Lana to face Kari.

The candles were burning low, and Kel’s
quill scratched furiously at the paper. Under the covers, I took
Kari’s hand and he turned to me and smiled sleepily. He stroked a
strand of hair out of my eyes and squeezed my hand. We gazed at
each other for a while, then his eyes slipped shut and I watched
him fall sleep, his lips slightly parted, his hand warm and loose
in mine.

***

The next morning I woke to the screeching of
the pale birds and a shaft of dawn light on my face, shining in
through the high window. I opened my eyes to see Kari’s sleeping
face not an inch from mine. Sometime in the night we had edged
closer together and my leg was hooked around his. His hand was
folded in mine and my other hand rested on his pillow, his curls
tangled in my fingers.

Horrified, I sprang away and he jolted
awake. I spun around to see Lana shift in her sleep and Kel slumped
over his books, snoring loudly. His inkpot had spilled on the floor
and the stain was soaking into his mattress.

My brother’s bed was empty, the covers
pulled and smoothed as if he had never slept there at all.

I rubbed my hand over my mouth,
suddenly fearful. What had Brin seen? What was going through his
mind now?
Even in your sleep you
fornicate, you disgusting wretch.
Perhaps he already
had the whip in his hand and was waiting for the opportunity to use
it once more, away from the eyes of our companions.

Kari brushed the sleep from his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Ned?”

“
We were sleeping a bit too close,” I
whispered. “And my brother…”

I had to find him, to learn what he’d seen
and get the lashing over with, if that was his intention. I got up
and pulled on my clothes and blundered out into the yard in a state
of near-panic, my boots not yet fastened.

The mist had lifted in the night. A stream
trickled somewhere nearby and the goats were sleeping in a clump.
The pines were lush and green and smelled of rain. I spotted my
brother dressed in simple leathers and sitting cross-legged on the
ground near the goats, his head in his hands. I had not seen him
dressed in such a fashion for many years. Without his Protector’s
armor he seemed diminished, younger-looking, almost a different
person.

I walked toward him, heart thumping with
trepidation. “Good morning, brother.”

He glared up at me through puffy, reddened
eyes and rubbed his face. His fingertips made a scratchy sound
against the curly beard that was growing thicker by the day. Since
we had left Lis, he had not bothered to shave. I was shocked by the
darkness which pooled in half-circles under his eyes.

“
Did you have trouble
sleeping?”

“
Not more than usual.”

I sat beside him and held my breath, waiting
for the outburst, but none came.

“
Why have you not donned your
armor?”

He picked up a handful of stones and let
them fall through his fingers and clatter onto the ground. “I am
not a Protector anymore, Ned. It is time I stopped decorating
myself so. In any case, it’s tiresome to walk such distances in
plate.”

There was a silence. Then I gained enough
courage to ask the question that had burned in my heart for some
months. “What exactly happened to you back in Azmara, Brin?”

He sighed. “You know very well what they did
to me. The notice of my excommunication was posted on our very
gatepost for all to see. I suppose I should count myself fortunate
that Pol did not have me executed, as he did my partner. Let it
rest.”

His command held no anger, just a weary
resignation. It was the first time Brin had mentioned the fate of
Salthras Kadilian, a jovial man with a well-kept moustache that
curled at the ends and who was a frequent guest at our dinner
table, often gorging himself to the point of sickness but
miraculously gaining no girth. My father had adored Sal and had
taken to his bed for days upon the announcement of his execution.
Brin had disliked Sal when they were initially assigned as
partners, but after years of serving together he had finally
managed to make my priestly brother smile.

I wondered if Brin would ever smile again
after everything that had happened.

As if to illustrate the futility of such
thoughts, he looked at me with a scowl. “Anyway, let us not make
idle chatter. I must prepare the donkey, and you should get dressed
properly. Put your tunic back on, at least. Those britches are
indecent and that shirt is too bright. This is a pilgrimage, not a
fashion parade.”

My mouth dropped open and I stared at my
brother’s back as he made his way to the stable where the donkey
was tethered. After all these years Brin could still surprise me,
and not in a good way. My shirt was perhaps a shade too close to
yellow, but I couldn’t bear the dismal sight of pilgrim brown. I
noticed a red wine stain near the hem and fingered the fine
material, wistfully remembering the marvelous vintage it came from.
My britches had been tailor-made from the finest and softest tan
leather and were crafted — as was the latest fashion — to subtly
enhance one’s goods, not to display them in the crude manner of
merchandise. I comforted myself with the thought that the one
benefit of the ghastly pilgrim’s tunic was that the wearing of it
would at least keep my brother from further complaints. Glumly, I
wondered what other minor aspects of my character and appearance he
would disparage along the way, and looked forward once more to
being back in Azmara and free of his “instruction”.

The monks were starting to wake and go about
their daily business. Two silver-clad figures passed me silently,
and their eyes shifted to me without much warmth. I gave a slight
bow which they returned but I got the impression that they were not
particularly pleased about the presence of outsiders in their
midst. Had Kari not been with us perhaps they would not have given
us shelter at all.

Later, when we were back on the
well-travelled path by the river, I noticed that Kari had an
earring in his right lobe and was fingering it with a half-smile on
his lips. The skin around the piercing was pink but he did not seem
to notice any pain. It was a silver hoop, from which hung a tiny
piece of bone carved into the shape of a narrow fang.

“
What’s this?” I asked, falling into
step beside him.

He smiled, and I felt my mouth mirroring
his. “It is my first ring, Nedim.”

There was obviously some significance that I
missed and the blank look must have showed on my face, for he
whispered in my ear. “In honor of my first lover.”

I remembered the cluster of rings that had
dangled from Mother Kiti’s ears, and her talk of having known
numerous men in her time. How many rings would hang from my ears if
I hailed from Methar? Too many to fit on, I imagined, barely able
to remember most of my lovers’ names. For the first time in my life
I did not feel so proud about that. I smiled at Kari with a mixture
of happiness and faint consternation. What if Brin were to realize
the significance of the piercings?

“
What are you two whispering about?”
Brin barked. “Get a move on. We have a long way to go.”

“
Nothing, brother.” I sighed and
picked up the pace.

We followed the river until the sun was high
in the sky. It began to curl right and eventually we came to a
divergence in the road, marked by a signpost which was tree-like in
the number of branches that pointed in different directions. The
place names were carved in unfamiliar rune-like symbols, and I
realized we had ventured further into Methar than most traders from
Lis who would have needed the common translation.

Just as Kari was folding the map away,
flashes of silver darting through the trees to our left caught my
eye. It was a group of monks perhaps thirty strong, moving swiftly
and silently through the forest. My first glimpse of Tivi’s
warriors, the Methari army.

“
I wonder where they’re going,” I
observed.

A faint crease appeared between Kari’s
brows. “They are going in the same direction we are.” He pointed to
a branch on the signpost and tapped the symbols with a worried look
on his face. “The shorter route through Khar Tam. It will take
perhaps three days to get to the caverns, according to the distance
on the signpost. It is greater than I’d remembered, or surmised
from this map.”

“
And that’s not good because…?” Lana
looked at him expectantly.

“
Tivi’s warriors do not travel in such
a manner for no reason. Certainly, they’ve been alerted to
something ahead. We will have to sleep under the stars tonight. We
cannot hope to reach the next village before nightfall. Perhaps
there will be another Pilgrim’s Rest, but they are not marked and I
do not remember exactly where they are.” He scratched his head and
pointed to the left where the rocky path plunged into the trees.
Rising above the thick forest head lay two tall peaks crowned with
mist. “There are two ways onward — the shorter leads through the
mountain, carved out long ago. It will be dark and infested with
spiders.”

I swallowed. “You mean those goat-sized
things you talked of before?”

“
Among others.”

“
Wait, what?” Lana stood, hands on
hips. “No one ever mentioned goat-sized spiders to
me
.”

Kari turned to Brin. “There is another path
which will lead us around the mountain, but there will be a sheer
drop on one side and the wind is unpredictable. Taking that route
will also add more time to the journey. It is your decision which
to select. My grandmother and I were blessed with fine weather that
day so we took the outside path, but I know how impatient you are
to reach Thar Mati.”

“
By the Gods, let’s just press on.”
Brin snatched the map from Kari and tucked it into a pouch on the
donkey. “We won’t get anywhere standing here biting air, and we
need to get to that village as soon as possible to offload these
wretched rolls of silk. The donkey has his limits.”

“
Don’t worry, Lana,” Kel said, with a
smile of false bravado. “I’ll protect you from any
spiders.”

“
How? Do you plan to write them to
death with your quill?” She laughed. “I have my daggers and no
intention of dying in the maw of any
beast
.”

“
She’s not known as Lana Six Blades
for nothing,” I added with a smile. Lana met my eyes with a knowing
wink, no doubt recalling, as I was, her incredible talent for
pin-finger. The profits from her endeavors had allowed us to live
like kings on the Pirates’ Isles and garnered some respect from
even the most hardened and well-practiced of sailors.

Brin kept up an unforgiving pace, marching
us through the trees as if he were leading a battalion, stopping
only to let us eat some dried meat and pickles in silence. Perhaps
his mind was on the poisonous creatures that lurked in the darkness
ahead, or the dizzying precipice I hoped we would not venture
along. I was less afraid of the darkness than of plunging to my
death down the side of the mountain. Had it come to this now,
deciding upon the manner of my death? What on earth had inspired
Brin to undertake such a treacherous journey? I had listened to
little of the detail while he was making his plans, and now I
wished I had paid more attention.

Perhaps I might have avoided the Rite
altogether, had I just had the sense to rein in the worst of my
excesses until Brin had simmered down after his excommunication,
rather than flaunting them under his very nose.

Stu-pid Ned-im,
stu-pid
. My feet crunched out my thoughts on the
gravelly path.
It’s a pilgrimage, it’s not
meant to be
fun
.
Lana had remarked upon that fact before we’d even left the
gates of Azmara, with the smell of roasted rat kebabs from the
street sellers still lingering in our nostrils. Now, faced with the
prospect of necromancers and the walking dead, giant spiders and
the mysterious caverns beneath Khar Tam, I felt a rush of
homesickness and longed more than ever to be feet-up on my balcony
looking down at the world, rather than right in the middle of all
its dangers.

As the peak ahead grew larger and the sun
sank behind it, the trees thinned and soon we could see the black
mouth of the tunnel yawning out of the dark gray stone. Near the
entrance was an oddly small hut, not big enough to house any weary
pilgrims, with no windows but a regular series of tiny square
openings cut into the wood. Kari brightened at the sight of it.
“Look!” he exclaimed. “It’s a message post. The Keeper’s home
should be nearby. Perhaps he will allow us to shelter there for the
night.”