260 - An imbecile flying off into a rage

I grabbed Chirel from its hook on the bedpost and drew. She whipped the naked axes out from under her pillow. Above all the yelling, Vriah’s shrieking wail cut like a knife. “Niku, grab her, I’ll draw them off!” She sprang for the crib. Another javelin flew, at my chest; I turned it with Chirel, seeing my own shadow thrown on the canvas wall by the night candle, they’re seeing it from the other side, ran for the office-room and the door bellowing in Arkan, “I’ll get all you forzak bastards!” to draw them there. I heard Vriah’s cry cut off, and hoped it was Niku throwing her hand over her mouth so the Arkans would not know where to throw. More javelins came, but more randomly, none hitting.

Now they drew swords and came for where they were hearing my voice, the vanguard of about ten still free from engagement with mine, though that wouldn’t be for long; the darya semanakraseye were closing in from every side. There were another three coming around the other side, with mine close behind them. What it was my duty to do, in truth, was keep right on running the same way, out from between them, and let my guards take them; I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though, and so charged the closest man. Evechera and Sethara, who’d both been on sentry-duty and so were geared up, were suddenly beside me, charging with me; between us, we took them down fast enough—they were not elite—and turning I saw only Yeolis, the Arkans surrounded. Yeoli blades rose and fell; in a few more breaths, no Arkan was standing.

“Chen, silence!” Krero and I both yelled at once. It was relayed and spread out from us, and let us know; it was over. Swords scraped back into scabbards, and people knelt to aid the Yeoli wounded, who were blessedly few. Niku stepped out with Vriah in her arms and at the breast; she’d fled back into younger infancy to bear this, I guessed. Everyone else who’d been in my tent was all right; Kaninjer was not there, spending the night, no doubt, with Sirichao. “Find the commander!” Krero barked. “Is he alive?”

The Arkan with the highest insignia was choking around a wound in the throat; as we lowered a torch close to his face to see it, his eyes glazed. “Find the second.” That one had got it in the thigh and side of the neck, might live long enough for a truth-drugging; there was another man whose foot was sheared off at the ankle, as the back-up in case the first one died. “Kill all the rest, and stack their bodies outside the camp towards the wall,” Krero ordered; as Perisalas had let us take our dead, we’d let him take his. “I’ll take care of it from here, Cheng. You can sleep.”

“You’re joking, right? You think I don’t want to hear what the man has to say under the drug?”

“No, I am not joking. I can tell you in the morning. You’ll have the full report all in one.” He was just as stark naked, except for his sword, as I was, and yet somehow still managed to look imperious.

“You are joking, even if you think you’re not. You think it’s even possible for me to sleep after that?” Of course the thing that was bothering me the most, the Arkan mission second wouldn’t be able to answer: why had I not awakened until I’d weapon-sensed them? When they’d first charged the sentries, the alarm would have been sounded and relayed back, far outrunning them. I could see Niku sleeping through it, since in the first part of the night at least she sleeps heavily. But why hadn’t it got me up?

Something else was bothering me too; the only way the mission would have had a decent chance of getting me, since I was surrounded by elite, was if Perisalas had sent his elite. But he hadn’t. The second might know why that was.

“If you would give it all over to me and let me take care of it—as is my mandate, as your guard commander—of course you could sleep,” Krero said.

“I thank you for the offer,” I said. As bloodfire faded, I began to feel both the chill of the air, and the tonguing up through me of bone-deep tiredness. “You’ll do the questioning and take the notes, of course. But I am going to watch, because there are things I want to know.” Now my chief signaler was there with the gong, waiting for me to tell him to sound ‘stand down,’ which I did.

“Fine,” Krero gritted, and then, as if he could order me, “Get dressed.”

The man did not know. He knew only that the commander of his unit, which was regular heavy foot, had sent out a messenger quietly through the tents, calling for volunteers. The messenger had been wearing red gloves, the sign that it was a suicide mission. All else the second knew was his orders; study our camp from the wall through far-lookers to learn where my tent was, then what we’d seen them do.

“They underestimated us, that’s all,” Krero said, as he walked me back to my tent, having slit the last two Arkans’ throats.

“Perisalas? You’re such a joker today, Krero.”

“Or they don’t know it’s solid elite around your tent at night.”

“Everyone knows it’s solid elite around my tent at night!” I’d never made it particularly secret. Perisalas had spies here, just as Abatzas had, but Perisalas listened to his.

“I think you’re making it too complicated,” he said. “Perisalas just made a mistake; I know you think he’s brilliant, but even the most brilliant generals can make mistakes.” His eyes, that had been looking ahead to see his way, flicked to mine, a little worried about how I’d take this. I wasn’t angry; I could hardly argue. “It’s bothering you, I know,” he said, looking away again. “But lately, everything is bothering you… maybe you should take a bath, or get the healer to tear himself out of whatshername’s arms for long enough to give you a massage… you wouldn’t have noticed this, with what you were doing last night, but he went back out after he checked you, which is why he’s not here.” Best that he hadn’t been, when javelins had been flying around. “I can find him.”

“I am not going to do that, I’m fine, and everything is not bothering me—but this is,” I said between my teeth. “Krero—I thank you for your excellent work, and I’ll read the report in the morning, dismissed.” Once I’d washed the blood off both Chirel and myself, I lay in bed, and Niku lay with me, Vriah on her other arm. They both fell asleep. My mind was too restless. False dawn came, then dawn, and I must have dozed without knowing it, because Krero’s voice ripped me out of some ugly, restless dream. “Cheng! What in kyash is going on? I know you need your sleep, but some stupid idiot forgot to ring the gong of reveille, so your whole army is snoozing like a bunch of lazy cows! I thought you’d notice!”

“I’m awake now; thanks, Krero,” I said. “I give you permission to order it sounded and give the signaler what-for.” He stamped out to do that. Why Niku gave him a poisonous look as he did, I couldn’t understand, but she wouldn’t tell me.

I took his report about the raid—the perimeter sentries had taken it worst, five of them killed—but there were no answers in it, or anywhere else I could see, to my two questions about it. Then I got caught up in my day.

The land-scouts reported: there was indeed a trail around the mountain Dyinahin that horses could take; both the Lakans and the Enchians were happy with it. It would take all night to get our horse behind the Arkans that way; but we had all night. I sent the word to my generals: first plan.

I had not let Filias into my sight, after the mamokal disaster; now I felt able to, but found myself wanting to be short with him from the moment I said, “What I feel about that? What do you think?” When he asked me what I had learned from it, I said, “Absolutely nothing,” but knew as a joking falsehood it was thin; somehow I didn’t have it in me to be wittier. Then he was asking me about the Arkan raid last night, how close it had come and so forth. About that I told him more or less the truth, though I did find it in myself to say, “Look, if you happen to cross paths with Perisalas, tell him he may send in solas to be slaughtered by us any or every night.” He nodded solemnly and said, “I will, Shefen-kas.”

My shadow-father didn’t send Mirainga as emissary; this time it was another old friend of his, Poraina Krahi. I cut her off almost before she started talking. “I know he wants to be reinstated to the darya semanakraseye,” I said. “Of course he does. How can you people imagine I don’t know that? And it’s equally obvious that he thinks he deserves it, too. Why are you bothering to tell me these things that, of course, he hasn’t asked you to tell me, but you observe yourselves? You think if you can, I can’t? I know he wants me not to marry Niku, either. How can I not know that when he tried to kill her to stop it from happening? Here is something you can tell him you observe in me, since of course I wouldn’t use you to pass messages: nothing, not Saint Mother nor Shininao, is going to come between Niku and me. You tell him that you interpret that extremely definitely from being with me.”

I’d barely sent her packing when Krero came. “Cheng,” he said, “I hate to say this, but…” You just know when someone says that that you’re going to hate to hear it even worse that they hate to say it. “…you know how you said to Mirainga, and now again to Poraina—”

“What, are you getting Ikal reports on my conversations?”

“No, of course not, but this is a war-camp, Cheng. Things get around.” I felt the welling of anger starting in me again, unstoppable as lava. It was darkly irresistible. “You said nothing would get between you and Niku… did you really mean nothing? Including the people’s will?”

“I agreed to put off the request,” I said, with a voice full of ice and slivers. “I could change my mind. I could send it off today.”

He backed off, throwing his arms out, as if I was about to attack him. “Cheng, easy! All-Spirit… I’ve noticed, everywhere you are these last few days, there’s shouting; no wonder! You know you seem more insane right now than you did on Haiu Menshir? Have you talked to Kaninjer about it?”

There was the blood-red in my eyes again. So often these days, the part of me that stood off and so saw my life at a distance thought. If he’d said one more word, I might have gone for his throat. He saw it in my eyes, perhaps, and stepped back; I clenched my teeth, looked away from him. “I’ve heard you, Krero,” I said, keeping them clenched. “Thank you. Dismissed.” He went, walking softly.

My anger was unsatisfied, though. I saw there was only one way to slake it. I’d kept the letter of request to Assembly, drafted by Chinisa but as yet unsigned, in my lap-desk with Jinai’s reading and my other most precious papers; now I pulled it out and read it over. Kyash on you all, I’m doing this. I signed and sealed it, and sent it off with the next Vae Arahi courier.

I was coming back from noon-meal with the Hyerne when I found myself flung down painlessly to land face-first in the dirt, and deftly pinned. As we’d fought our way south, Azaila had done just what I’d asked him to, humbling commanders who were overly flush with victory, including me, two or three times. But this time, to my amazement, he was as gentle with me as if I were half-broken, once he had me down. “Lad,” he said, “you have your healer checking you, don’t you?”

“Next one to mention my healer to me gets kyashin latrine duty for the rest of the war!” I snapped, for the benefit of anyone listening, though it probably didn’t carry as much weight as usual, from someone held on the ground under someone else’s knee.

It carried no weight with him at all, obviously, for he said, “Lad, have him check you, if you’re not, and do whatever he tells you is best for you. That’s the most important advice I’ve given you in years.”

Do whatever he tells me is best for me? You really want me to hang up my sword? Still, it gave me pause, as I went back to the tent. Niku was there, feeding Vriah honey-melon, the closest thing you can get in Yeola-e to the sorts of fruit they have in Niah-lur-ana. I kissed them both. “Well, I did it,” I said, glancing at the courier-box, which was empty. “The marriage request is on its way.”

Vriah spat her melon out down her chin and let out a bit of a shriek. Niku looked at me and snapped, “You did what? The what is on its where?”

“The marriage request? To Assembly? So that we can get married? You and I? As we plan to? Because we want to? As you surely remember?”

Vriah threw her head back and let out a full-throated scream; Niku sprang to her feet, her brow black and her lips slitted white with anger. It was like thunder out of a cloudless sky. I thought you’d be pleased, I thought. Why is everyone around me these days being a senseless imbecile flying off into a rage?

“We agreed we would marry!” I said. “You asked me! I answered yes!”

“We chose together to hold off asking! Shouldn’t we have chosen together to change our minds?”

“How could I know you’d object?”

“You still should have asked me! Maybe I’d have told you I think it’s idiocy, which I do!”

“Oh, and you know my people better than I do? And you’re calling me an idiot, now?”

“Who was calling who an idiot first?”

And so it went. I won’t bore you with the rest; if you’ve heard one spat between lovers, and I know no one who hasn’t, you’ve heard them all. Above it Vriah screamed, until Sishana sensibly and mercifully spirited her out of Niku’s arms and away. It ended with us agreeing that perhaps we were erring to think of marriage at all, and her moving out with all her things. Well, at least Esora-e can be happy about this, I thought bitterly, my head feeling as if it had been beaten with a stick, and my heart like a stew-pot on the boil.