The Daylight War (30 page)

‘When she sees your face tomorrow, I think Dama’ting Qeva will lift your banishment,’ Inevera said, holding up her new
hora
pouch. ‘We will enter the Chamber of Shadows together. And I will finish my dice before you.’

I
nevera waited nervously in the
dama’ting
pavilion, her breath fogging in the bitter cold. Qeva was there, as well as three other Brides, seven Betrothed, and four eunuchs, including the powerful Enkido. The eunuchs were dressed in full
Sharum
blacks, night-veiled with spear and shield. Under their robes was linked armour of
dama’ting
craft, enough to turn even a demon’s bite.

But despite the powerful gathering in a familiar space, Inevera shifted her feet nervously. It was deep in the night, and they were on the surface. Evejan law forbade this, even for Brides of Everam, but Qeva and the others stood chatting among themselves as easily as if they stood in the Dama’ting Underpalace. Inevera knew logically the chances of
alagai
passing the
Sharum
in the Maze and breaching the great wall was minimal at best – and in truth closer to infinitesimal – but still her heart thudded in her chest.

Fear
and
pain
are
only
wind
, she reminded herself, picturing the palm and finding her centre.

Standing by the tent flap, mute Enkido raised a hand and made a quick series of gestures with his fingers.

‘
Oot!
’ Qeva said. ‘They come.’

Everyone quieted, and the Brides moved to stand in front, Qeva at their lead. She nodded to Enkido as he opened the tent flap.

Half a dozen
Sharum
approached the pavilion, one of them leading a camel with feet wrapped in thick black cloth. There was black cloth over its body as well, and wrapped around the wheels of the large cart it pulled.

Their blacks were dusty from the Maze, with fresh dents in their armour and ichor splattering their heavy shields. One walked with a slight limp, and another had a blood-soaked cloth tied around one thick arm. The
Sharum
all had their night veils in place, but Inevera recognized them immediately by their sleeveless uniforms with breastplates of blackened steel emblazoned with the golden sunburst of Dama Baden. Even without his characteristic swagger and white
kai’Sharum
veil Inevera would have recognized Cashiv, and even more so the man beside him. His
ajin’pal
.

Soli.

She had not seen her brother in years, but she knew him instantly even behind his veil. His eyes had the twinkle of her brother’s easy smile, and she knew his walk, his stance, and his muscular arms as well as she knew her own. She suppressed a gasp, but could not help staring.

Next to her, Melan snorted. ‘You have as much chance there, bad throw, as you do in beating me to the veil. Those are
push’ting
. Man lovers. There are said to be none finer in battle than Dama Baden’s
Sharum
,
but they would sooner bed a goat than you.’

Asavi snickered. ‘And be better for it.’

‘Silence!’ Qeva hissed.

Cashiv and the other
Sharum
came before the
dama’ting
and bowed deeply. As they did, Soli’s eyes passed over Inevera, but though her face was bare, there was no recognition in the dim light.

‘Rise, honoured
Sharum
,’ Qeva said. ‘The blessing of Everam be upon you.’

Cashiv and the others straightened. ‘Everam is great. All honour and glory begins and ends with Him. Our lives belong to Him and his sacred Brides. It is the first night of Waning after winter solstice. We have come to deliver Dama Baden’s tithe.’

Qeva nodded. ‘Your sacrifice in blood does not go unnoticed by Everam, or his Brides. What gift have you brought?’

Cashiv bowed again. ‘Twenty-nine
alagai
, Dama’ting.’

Qeva raised an eyebrow. ‘Twenty-nine? This is not a holy number.’

Cashiv bowed again. ‘Of course the
dama’ting
is correct. Twenty-eight is the traditional tithe; seven sand demons, seven clay, seven flame, and seven wind. One each of the common breeds for every pillar of Heaven.’ He paused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘But Dama Baden is grateful for the blessings of the
dama’ting
, and commanded us to lay a special trap. To honour the one Creator, we have also brought a single water demon.’

Several of the
nie’dama’ting
gasped. The Brides showed no obvious sign, but Inevera could read the shift in their stances as easily as if they were shouting in elation. Water demons were beyond rare in Krasia, and there were spells that could only be made from their bones. The spell to create water alone could be accomplished with a fraction of the
hora
.

‘Everam is pleased with your gift to honour Him,’ Qeva said. ‘How did you accomplish this?’

‘Dama Baden had us wall off a section of the Maze, removing the wards and breaking the sandstone floor that prevents
alagai
rising. We dug a deep pool, which the
dama
filled with water from his own stores, and seeded with fish and other life. It took many months, but at last, the bait was taken and a water demon took residence there. It killed one of my men and injured two others as we hauled it out in the nets this night, surviving far longer than we expected in the night air. It eventually died of suffocation, and is otherwise intact.’

The
dama’ting
exchanged a glance. The cost of this endeavour was not lost to them. The water alone was a
Damaji
’s ransom – tainted now and useless. It spoke of Dama Baden’s incredible wealth … and of a favour he sought.

Dama Baden did nothing for free.

‘This gift pleases us greatly, Cashiv asu Avram am’Goshin am’Kaji. Your honour, and that of your men, is boundless. The pleasures of Heaven will be yours forever when you pass from this life. Bring forth your wounded.’

The two most heavily wounded men stepped forth, and there was no hesitation as the
dama’ting
warded the skin about their injuries and drew forth small bits of
hora
to effect magical healing. The other men had only superficial scrapes and burns the Brides treated with more conventional means.

When it was done, Qeva turned back to the
Sharum
. ‘Bring the gifts into the Rendering Chamber.’

Moving with the assuredness of men who had been this way many times, Cashiv and the others began unloading
alagai
corpses from the cart and carrying them down through a trapdoor Inevera had never seen before, right in the entrance hall. Large punctures in the chests of the sand and wind demons told of death by stingers – arrows the size of spears, launched from wooden scorpions atop the walls. The armour of the clay demons was crushed by heavy stones dropped into demon pits. The smell of rank ichor was nauseating.

The flame demons – drowned in shallow pools – were unmarked, as was the water demon, a slimy mass of horned tentacles and sharp scales. Its mouth was enormous for its body, with row upon row of wicked teeth.

When it was done, Qeva gestured and Cashiv came to kneel before her. ‘Four questions,’ Qeva said, ‘and a boon.’

Cashiv nodded. ‘Thank you, Dama’ting. I humbly accept this gift, though we are yours to command, and act only to bring glory to Everam, not from thought of reward.’ His words had the ring of practice, more a chant than speech. Inevera understood that this meeting likely played out every year, a business transaction that had become ritual. The way everyone smoothly gathered into a ring around the scene spoke of it as well.

Qeva knelt across from Cashiv as she reached into her
hora
pouch. ‘Have you the
dama
’s blood?’ Cashiv drew forth a polished wooden box. Contained within was a delicate porcelain vial. He passed this to the
dama’ting
, who emptied its contents onto her dice.

‘Lower your veil.’ When Cashiv complied, she asked, ‘Do you swear now that this is the true blood of Dama Baden, and that you speak with his voice – his words and not your own – with Everam as your witness?’

Cashiv put his hands on the canvas floor of the pavilion and pressed his forehead between them. ‘I do, Dama’ting. I swear before Everam himself, in the name of Kaji and on my honour and hope of Heaven, that this is Dama Baden’s blood and I have memorized his questions precisely.’

Qeva nodded, raising her hand and causing the dice to flare with a harmless glow. Cashiv flinched in spite of himself. ‘Then ask,
Sharum
. The dice will know if you lie.’

Cashiv swallowed hard and drew deep breaths, finding his centre in much the same way as a
dama’ting
. Their
sharusahk
might be vastly different, but the philosophy at its core was not.

Cashiv met Qeva’s eyes, his words slow and careful. ‘What will be my greatest loss this year, and how can I profit from it?’

‘Well said,’ Qeva congratulated. ‘That was two questions last year.’ Without waiting for a response, she shook the dice in her hands, chanting as they began to glow. She threw, then studied the pattern carefully.

‘A sickness will spread through the goat herds this winter,’ she said. ‘Only two in five will see the spring, and those too weak to have much value. Tell Dama Baden to sell his stock now and buy as many sheep as he can afford.’

Cashiv bowed and asked his second question. ‘As my palanquin passed through the city a month ago, a
khaffit
spat upon me from the crowd. How may I find this one again, to visit justice upon him?’

Inevera knew full well what ‘justice’ the
dama
meant. One fool enough to spit on a
dama
no doubt deserved it, but it said much of Baden’s pride that he would waste such a valuable question on revenge.

Qeva showed no emotion at all as she consulted the dice. ‘You will find him in the bazaar. His stall three hundred twenty paces east of the statue of the Holy Mother near the Jaddah gate in the Khanjin district. A seller of …’

Inevera tilted her head, studying the pattern still glowing softly on the dice.
Honey
melon
, she read.

‘Honey cakes,’ Qeva said after a moment. Inevera stiffened, looking at the dice again, positive of her reading. She glanced at Qeva, and did not know what filled her with more fear, that Dama Baden was going to torture and kill the wrong man, or that her great teacher had made an error.

She hesitated. Should she speak? She quickly dismissed the idea. If she pointed out the mistake in front of the
Sharum
,
it would likely mean her life, as well as that of all the warriors present, Soli included. The
dama’ting
could not be seen as fallible.

She breathed, finding her centre, and did nothing.

Cashiv bowed again. ‘Dama Lakash is attempting to end the exception that the personal
Sharum
of
dama
need fight in the Maze only on Waning. How can this be prevented?’

Qeva grunted and threw the dice a third time. ‘Dama Lakash’s son-in-law and heir Dama Kivan has spoken ill of you in council. Claim insult and kill him, taking his
Jiwah
Ka
, Lakash’s eldest daughter Gisa, as your
Jiwah
Sen
in recompense. Marry her that night, and get a daughter on her the third afternoon after the ceremony.’

Cashiv’s face wrinkled at the thought. ‘This brings me to the
dama
’
s
final question, Dama’ting: “I remain vigorous with men, but have lost my ability to lie with and seed my wives. How can this be restored?”’

Qeva snorted and put her dice away. There was a tinkling clatter of small corked bottles as she rifled through the pouch at her waist, finally selecting one. ‘Apply this personally to the
dama
’s spear before he does the deed, and tell him to be quick about it.’ She tossed the bottle to Cashiv. ‘If that doesn’t work, stick a finger in his arse.’

Cashiv and the other
Sharum
laughed at that.

‘And the boon?’ Qeva asked.

‘My master has lost nine poison tasters in the year,’ Cashiv said. ‘He suspects one or more of his many sons.’

‘Yet he wastes a question on a spitting
khaffit
,’ Qeva noted.

Cashiv bowed low. ‘My master’s sons add to his power, and he would not wish to kill one, nor does he think it would deter the others if he did. He asks instead for a chalice, ornate as befits his stature, magicked to turn poison to water.’

‘A precious gift,’ Qeva said. ‘Difficult to make.’

Cashiv smiled. ‘My master prays it will be less so, with the bones of a water demon.’

Qeva nodded, rising to her feet. ‘You may go. Tell your master his chalice will be ready on the first Waning after spring equinox. We will teach him a precise way to hold it, so that only he may activate its power.’