The Daylight War (52 page)

Food was brought up by the innkeeper’s daughter, a meaty woman in her late forties who kept her eyes down and hopped at their every word. With no men to see, Sikvah changed back into her bright embroidered silks, serving him attentively as he ate and only taking quick nibbles of her own food at his urging.

‘Would you like your bath soon, husband?’ she asked when he was finished eating. ‘Your amazing performance must have tired you.’

It was like this every night. Amanvah would go quiet at some point, and then excuse herself and vanish into her secret room for hours. Sikvah would swoop in, attending his every need and burying him in flattery until she returned.

Normally Sikvah’s attention was indeed an effective distraction, but Rojer had never seen Amanvah so disapproving. There was an argument brewing, and he wanted to get into it and have done.

‘What in the Core is she doing in there?’ he grumbled.

‘Communing with Everam,’ Sikvah said, beginning to clear the bowls.

‘Dicing,’ Rojer said.

Sikvah seemed offended at his tone. ‘The
alagai
hora
are no game, husband. Your
Jiwah
Ka
consults the dice to help guide your path.’

Rojer tightened his lips, not entirely liking the sound of that, but he said nothing. He found himself craving a cup of wine badly, though he doubted there was any to be had. Alcohol was one of the first things the
dama
abolished in the hamlets. He imagined what his master Arrick’s reaction would have been to that. He might have wept, or saved himself the trouble and tied his own noose.

Just then Amanvah’s door opened. You could tell a lot from how a person opened a door – every Jongleur who ever worked a stage knew that. Amanvah did not open it in the tentative way of one chastened, nor the aggressive way of one in full fume. It was a calm, decisive action. She had her mask in place, and still wore her white robes.

Corespawn
it
,
Rojer thought, putting his Jongleur’s mask on as Amanvah came to sit across from him, her eyes calm but piercing. He shifted slightly to feel the weight of the medallion on his chest.

‘This is what it means to be a Jongleur?’ Amanvah asked. ‘To dance on a ball and pretend to fall on your face to get peasant children to laugh?’

Rojer kept his face smooth, though the words made him want to bare his teeth. It was no more than he had heard from self-involved Royals in Angiers, looking down their noses at his kind even as they hired them for their balls and parties, but the words cut deeper coming from his own wife.

Night, what have I gotten myself into?

‘You didn’t seem to mind performing for the
Sharum
and
dama
in Everam’s Bounty,’ Rojer noted.

‘That was in the Deliverer’s court, praising Everam before honoured guests and loyal
Sharum
!’ Amanvah hissed. Sikvah moved quickly away, busying herself around the room. ‘Your honour was boundless that day, husband, but you cannot mean to compare it to debasing yourself playing the fool for
khaffit
and
chin
.’

‘
Khaffit
,’ Rojer said. ‘
Chin
. These words have no meaning to me. All I saw in that square were people, and each and every one of them deserves a little joy in their life.’

Amanvah’s mask was a good one, but Rojer caught the pulse of a vein in her forehead and knew he had niggled her.
Point
to
me
.

Amanvah stood. ‘I will be in my chamber. Sikvah, tend to Rojer’s bath.’

Sikvah bowed. ‘Yes,
Jiwah
Ka
.’ Amanvah swept out of the room.

‘Shall I draw your bath, husband?’ Sikvah asked.

Rojer looked at her, incredulous. ‘Of course. And cut my stones off while you’re at it.’

Sikvah froze, and Rojer immediately regretted it for the frightened look on her face. ‘I … I do not …’

‘Forget it,’ Rojer cut in, getting to his feet and putting on his motley cloak. ‘I’m going downstairs a bit.’

Sikvah looked at him in concern. ‘Is there something you need? Food perhaps? Tea? I will fetch whatever you wish.’

Rojer shook his head. ‘I just need a walk and a few moments alone with my thoughts.’ He gestured towards the bedroom. ‘Warm the bed for me.’

Sikvah did not seem pleased with the instructions, but Rojer’s command was clear, and he had learned she would not refuse such a tone without good reason and a nod from Amanvah, of which she had neither. ‘As you wish, husband.’

He left the room, finding Enkido and Gared just outside in the hall. The gold-shackled eunuch stood straight and stiff before Amanvah’s door, giving no reaction as Rojer exited the room.

In contrast, Gared lounged on a chair tilted on its back legs, tossing cards at a hat a few feet away. His weapons rested against the wall in easy reach.

‘Ay, Rojer. Figured you were off to bed by now.’ He winked, and then laughed as if he had just made a clever joke.

‘You don’t have to stand watch all night, Gar,’ Rojer said.

Gared shrugged. ‘Don’t, but I usually wait till you’re off to bed before I sneak off to find my own.’ He nodded at Enkido. ‘Dunno how that one does it, standing like a tree all night. Don’t think he sleeps.’

‘Come downstairs with me,’ Rojer said. ‘I’m off to rummage under the bar and see if anything stronger than tea escaped the local
dama
’s glare.’ Gared grunted and stood. Rojer collected the cards with practised speed, snapping and shuffling them as he headed down the stairs.

The taproom was empty save for the innkeep, Darel, who was sweeping the floor. As at all the inns they had visited on the Messenger road through Everam’s Bounty, the other guests had been ejected for the night to accommodate Leesha’s caravan. She and her family, Gared, Wonda, Rojer, and his wives were all given their own rooms, as were the full
dal’Sharum
and their wives. The women, children, and
kha’Sharum
slept in the carts circled outside.

Darel was a fit man, but well past fighting age, with more grey in his beard than his natural sand colour. ‘Honoured masters.’ He bowed. ‘How may I serve you?’

‘Cut that demonshit, for starters,’ Rojer said. ‘Just us
chin
here.’

The man relaxed visibly, heading behind the bar as Rojer and Gared took stools. ‘Sorry. Never know who’s watching, these days.’

‘Honest word,’ Gared said. ‘Like worrying you got a ward wrong somewhere.’

‘Got anything real to drink?’ Rojer asked. ‘I’ve a powerful thirst, and not for water. Been so long, a bottle of disinfectant will do.’

Darel hawked into a clay spittoon. ‘
Dama
smashed all my wine casks the day they came to town. Used the stronger stuff to make a pyre to burn everything “sinful” in town. Took my granddaughter’s stuffed doll. Said its dress was indecent.’ He spat again. ‘Girl loved that doll. Lucky they din’t take her, too, I guess.’

‘It bad as all that?’ Rojer asked.

The innkeeper shrugged. ‘First week was rough.
Dama
came with a paper from the demon of the desert that said the town belonged to his tribe now. Some folk disagreed, and the
Sharum
put ’em down hard. Most fell in line after that.’

‘So you just let ’em take over?’ Gared growled.

‘We ent fighters like you Hollow folk,’ Darel said. ‘I saw the biggest man in town have his arm broke like a twig by a
dama
half his size, just for refusing to bow. Needed to look after me and mine, and couldn’t do that dead.’

‘No one’s blaming you,’ Rojer said.

‘S’not so bad once you learn the rules,’ Darel said. ‘Most of the Krasian holy book is the same as in the Canon, and like us, some of them are preachier than others,’ he cracked a smile as his voice dropped to a whisper, ‘and some are hypocrites.’ With that, he produced a small clay flask and two tiny cups. ‘You boys ever try couzi?’

‘Huh-uh,’ Gared grunted.

‘Heard stories,’ Rojer said.

Darel chuckled. ‘For all their talk of the sin of spirits, them sand folk brew a drink that’ll take the varnish off your porch.’

Rojer and Gared took the cups he offered, looking at them curiously. Even in his crippled hand, Rojer could hold his easily. The one Gared held looked like something a child might use to serve tea to a doll. ‘It’s barely a mouthful. Do you taste it or toss it?’

‘Toss the first couple,’ Darel advised. ‘Gets easier after that.’ They touched cups and threw them back, eyes widening. Rojer had been drinking since he was twelve and thought himself used to the worst burn alcohol could bring to bear, but this was like drinking fire. Gared started coughing.

Darel just smiled, filling their cups again. Once more they tossed them back, and this time, as he said, it was easier. Or maybe their tongues and throats were just numb.

Gared sipped the third cup thoughtfully. ‘Tastes like …’

‘… cinnamon,’ Rojer finished, swishing the liquid in his mouth.

‘The Krasians are like couzi,’ Darel pulled at his whiskers, ‘or this corespawned itchy beard they make all the men grow. Take some getting used to, but not so bad after a while. They let me keep my business so long as I pay my taxes and keep to the rules, and if I arrange a marriage for my granddaughter by the time she bleeds, I don’t have to worry about the white witches arranging one for her.’

He paled suddenly, looking sharply at Rojer.

Rojer smiled and held up his scarred hand. ‘Keep your pants dry. I may have married a
dama’ting
, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less scary to me. Might want to get out of the habit of calling them white witches, though. “An act practised in private will eventually be seen”, as my master used to say.’

‘Ay,’ Darel agreed. ‘Fair and true.’

‘You were saying?’ Rojer prompted. ‘Krasians aren’t so bad?’

‘Find that hard to swallow,’ Gared said. ‘Like saying it’s not so bad having a boot on your back.’

Darel poured himself a cup of couzi, tossing it back with a practised quickness. ‘Ent saying I don’t miss the old days, and plenty have it worse than me, but generally, you remember when to bow and keep your nose clean, the Krasians leave you be. You have a dispute with your neighbour, it still goes to the Town Speaker first, and then he takes it to the
dama
if it ent something he can settle on the spot. The
dama
are generally fair, but they take all that ear-for-an-ear business in the Canon literally. Know a feller lost a hand for stealing a chicken, and another who raped a girl, and had to watch the same done to his sister.’

Gared balled a fist. ‘And that ent so bad?’

Darel threw back another cup. ‘It’s bad, ay, but I don’t steal chickens and rape girls. Reckon there’ll be a lot less of that in the future, too. Evejan law is harsh, but can’t deny it gets results.’

‘And them taking all the boys?’ Gared asked. ‘I had a son, I wouldn’t stand for that.’

Darel swished his third cupful in his mouth, swallowing thoughtfully. ‘Got a grandson they took. Ent happy about it, but they let him come home every month on new moon. Waning, they call it. Boys’re getting it rough, coming home with bruises and broken bones, but no worse’n the Krasian boys. They’re picking up the language and rules quicker than the rest of us, and the
dama
says that the ones who earn the black will be full citizens, with all the rights of a
Sharum
lord. And the ones who don’t are kicked out as
khaffit
.’ He smiled, scratching his neck. ‘Which ent too different from my lot, ’cept without the itchy beard.’

Rojer sipped his fourth – or was it his fifth? – cup of couzi. His head was beginning to spin. ‘How many boys did they take from … where are we, anyway?’

‘Used to be Appleton,’ Darel said. ‘Now it’s some long bunch of sand words. We just call it Sharachville, ’coz that’s our tribe now. There were thirty boys here the right age for
Hannu Pash
or whatever.’

Rojer had to steady himself on Gared as they climbed back up the steps. He had drunk a big mug of fresh water and chewed a sourleaf, but he doubted his wives would be fooled if he stumbled over his own feet on the way to bed. Fortunately, Rojer was Arrick Sweetsong’s apprentice and had a lot of practice pretending to be sober when he was anything but.

‘They’re building an army bigger than all the Free Cities combined,’ he said quietly. ‘Lakton doesn’t have a chance.’

‘Gotta do something,’ Gared said. ‘Find the Painted Man, fight, something. Can’t just sit back and let ’em take everything south of the Hollow.’

‘First thing is to warn folk in Lakton what’s coming,’ Rojer said. ‘Got some ideas about that, but I need a night’s sleep and maybe a pot to sick up in first.’

It took all his mummer’s skills and acrobatics to keep steady as he walked by Enkido. If the giant eunuch took any notice of him, he did not show it. Inside, Amanvah was still in her private chamber, the evil glow of wardlight shining from under the door. He made his way into bed without a problem. Sikvah was waiting for him, but she said nothing as he collapsed face-first into the pillows. He felt tugging as she pulled off his boots and clothes, but while he did not resist, neither did he have strength to assist. She stroked his back gently, cooing as he fell fast asleep.