Having to remember the twelve long years he had served out his debt slavery to the man made him want to kick and punch and destroy some helpless object, breaking it down until it hung in splinters. Wasn't that the way his and Bai's life had been destroyed, when they'd been orphaned and their aunts and uncle had sold them on the block rather than raise them? The life they might have hoped to have had been smashed to pieces, and here they were, remade into people he no longer recognized.
She went on, a wolf gnawing at cracked bones. 'Once we reach a place we can stop, you have to apprentice to one of the gods. It's not
unheard of to come so late to your year of service. It's better than carrying around that prison bowl, where the southern god sucks in the souls of his worshippers.'
'You don't know anything about Beltak!'
'A Hundred man should not be praying to a god from the empire.'
'I only took up the bowl because it gave me an advantage in trade. That way I didn't have to pay the fines the empire men levy in the market on merchants who aren't believers.'
'I thought their priests burned anyone who didn't sacrifice to their god.'
'They do, but they have to accept merchants from other countries, at least in the market, or they'd have no trade, would they? But they can charge them extra, and forbid them to build temples of their own or to say prayers to other gods.'
Her lips, pressed together, made a tight line.
'I did what I had to! I got us free, didn't I?'
'You did,' she said as the line of her mouth softened. 'It's not too late. The gods will not abandon you. You only need stand before them. It's just… I can't look at you and easily see to which god your service is best suited. Kotaru the Thunderer? You're not obedient enough nor do you get into fights just for the fun of it. Ushara the Merciless One? You can't give up your very self to the heart of the goddess. Atiratu the Lady of Beasts? No, for hers is a caring and selfless heart, and you have trouble looking beyond your own troubles. Taru the Witherer? He who waxes and wanes? I think not, for you have remained constant all these years, and that's a fine thing, since we're both free now because of your efforts. Ilu the Envoy? You've traveled, but you're just not talkative enough. You're observant, but only when you're toting up things to your own advantage or disadvantage. Sapanasu, the Keeper of Days? It's true you're an excellent accountant, and you've made' good use of those skills in acquiring the coin to free us. But I just can't see you being willing to shave your head on the day you enter through that gate. You're too vain of your lovely hair.'
I le glared at her, thinking she was teasing him, but it was obvious she was perfectly serious. The hells! She was right, of course: Although she'd been glad to leave the temple, she was nevertheless
sworn to the goddess in her heart in a way he could not fathom. No doubt she considered herself a hierodule still, even if she no longer served at the temple of Ushara, the Devourer, the Merciless One.
'That leaves Hasibal, the Formless One. Eh!'
He jumped, spinning around to see if anything was sneaking up behind him, but there was nothing except shadows.
'You might have been walking Hasibal's path all along,' she continued, because the exclamation had been merely a grunt of consideration. 'Still, you know what they say.'
'Must you drone on with this annoying prattle? When you were little, you were so quiet. The temple ruined you.'
'Our souls are bound to the land through our service to the gods. At birth we enter one of the twelve years, which determines much of the character of our heart. With our naming, we are linked to one of the Four Mothers, which determines the texture of our mind. Without service to the gods, we are as a boat without an anchor: adrift in stormy seas.'
'I survived twelve years adrift. But I might expire if I have to hear any more of this. Can't we go to sleep now?'
'A difficult path to follow, but the deepest.'
'Sleeping?'
'Hasibal's path.'
'Won't you stop?'
'No!' Rising to face him, she seemed larger, brighter, fiercer, a wolf about to lunge. 'Don't mock the gods, Kesh. Don't turn your back on them. We are what the gods make us.'
'We are what we make ourselves!'
'How can you separate the two? You only think you can.'
'You don't know anything!'
Her weight shifted forward. Her shoulders stiffened. He thought she was ready to rip out his throat. She could kill him. He knew it. She knew it.
Then she smiled, and relaxed. Raising both hands, palms out, she nodded briefly. 'You must walk your own path, Kesh. That's truth. But there's another truth you don't want to hear and must hear: you must walk a path, or you'll always be lost and wandering, as in the wilderness.'
'Aui! Can't we-'
'Go to sleep? Yes. Scrub out that pot. I'll check on the horses.'
He scoured the pot with a handful of gravel, then rinsed out the grit with water from the cistern. Bai took the pot and hauled more water for the horses. He wrapped himself in a blanket, in a walled corner where he'd get shelter when it rained during the night, and closed his eyes.
But he was restless. Their argument had robbed him of the ability to sleep. The words of the evening prayer to Beltak, Lord of Lords, King of Kings, the Shining One Who Rules Alone, whispered in his head.
Rid us of all that is evil. Rid us of demons. Rid us of hate. Rid us of envy. Rid us of heretics and liars. Rid us of wolves and of armies stained with the blood of the pure. He touched the sacred bowl tucked against a hip. 'Teach me to hate darkness and battle evil. Teach me the Truth.'
Yet what is truth? Master Feden had prayed to the gods of the Hundred, and paid his tithes to the temples at the proper times and in the proper amounts. But he had cheated his own slaves by padding out their debts so they remained in perpetual servitude to him, never able to buy themselves free. He had made common cause with a mysterious commander out of the north, whose army included the worst kind of criminals and sick, twisted men. Feden had done all that to consolidate the power his faction already held in the council of Olossi.
Still, any Hundred-born-and-bred man must admit that the situation in the Sirniakan Empire was unpleasant, with lords and priests able to kill any man they wanted at their whim, with helpless folk born into slavery and never able to buy themselves free, with women trapped like animals behind high walls. When Kesh had hired a Sirniakan driver named Tebedir to cart his trade goods north from the empire on the very last trading journey Kesh had taken as a slave, Tebedir had made all kinds of awful remarks that struck Kesh's ears as offensive or cruel. And yet, Tebedir stuck by his oath to stay with Kesh even when they'd been attacked by bandits in the village of Dast Korumbos. He could have run, but he'd said himself that honor was more important than death.
So who was a better man, Feden or Tebedir?
'Peace. Peace. Peace,' he whispered. A wind soughed up from the basin. Rain pattered through the stones. But he was not soothed.
When bandits had attacked, threatening to rob him of the precious treasure that would buy his and Bai's freedom, he had prayed to Beltak, Lord of Lords and King of Kings, the Shining One Who Rules Alone. And after that, the black wolves — Captain Anji's troops — had ridden as out of nowhere to save their caravan from the ospreys who sought to pillage it. So maybe Beltak had answered his prayer. Or maybe it had just fallen out that way. Maybe he'd just been lucky that the right people had come along at the right time. Maybe it was only that Master Feden had abused his power and gone against the law because he wanted to enrich himself and squeeze the throats of others more than he wanted to do what was right in the eyes of the gods.
On Law Rock in Toskala, the laws governing the Hundred were carved in stone. When a person sells their body into servitude in payment for a debt, that person will serve eight years and in the ninth go free.
But laws mean nothing, not really. They only mean something if people agree they do, if people walk in obedience to the law, or are forced to comply. If your heart had turned away from the law, then your heart would not restrain you when you violated it. Long ago the Guardians had stood over the Hundred, to guard the law, while the reeves had enforced the law. But the Guardians vanished, and while some of the reeves were turning their back
