'I am a prisoner of those who command me.'
Furious, Shai walked over to the couch. 'You don't look like a prisoner! You look like a lord, who with a gesture of his hand marks who will live and who will die. You sent a man to be hanged from the pole. How can you do it, knowing what he will suffer?'
Hari shrugged, his expression masked. 'I'm not the brother you think you remember.'
'You can't have changed that much! You were the bold one, the bright one, the one who always spoke his mind!'
'Maybe you didn't know me that well. You were young. You saw what you wanted to see. Maybe I was the drunk one, the stupid one, the dissatisfied one. Maybe I pushed our Qin overlords too hard not out of a sense of righteous anger, but as a prank. Or on a dare. Or because I was bored. Or wanted to impress my reckless idiot friends.'
'I don't believe it!'
'You want to believe I am something I never was. Now listen, little brother. We've got to get you out of here before Night or Lord Radas discover you-'
Shai grabbed one of his brother's wrists and squeezed it; it was shocking to feel he might overpower the older brother who had once been able to sling him over a shoulder, run down to the pond, and toss him into the water howling and laughing. He tightened his grip until Hari winced. 'How did you get to the Hundred?'
Hari lifted his chin defiantly but in the end looked away. He addressed words to the sloped end of the couch, the fabric a saturated dark purple similar to the hue of the cloak he wore carelessly flung over his shoulders. 'Will you let go?'
Shai let go.
Hari rubbed the wrist. His forehead was beaded with sweat. I'm done speaking of it. What use is there in me speaking? All my words are tainted, because I'm a demon.'
The tone of self-loathing hit Shai hardest. The Hari he knew had never hated himself. 'You aren't a demon.'
Hari grasped Shai's shoulders. Years ago, Hari had grabbed him so, stared into his eyes, and scolded him: Stand up for yourself, Shai. Speak up, Shai!
Best of brothers!
But now he looked leached at the edges, as if sickness had drained his vitality.
'Aren't I? I can't see into your heart to know what you really think of me. What if you scorn me, and I would never know?'
'I would tell you what I think.'
'People say so, but they never do.' Hari laughed mockingly. 'People say what they think you want to hear. But now, their hearts and thoughts are laid bare to me, and I can see what's true. All their pain and greed and rage and selfish lust cuts me, just as it cuts them. I can't rest for thinking of all the horrible things I've seen in people's hearts. And yet I can't look away. I want their secrets and their shame. Then I don't have to think about my own.'
'Stop it!'
'Why are you hidden from me, Shai? No one else is, except the other cloaks. And you're not a cloak.'
Shai clasped his hands. 'I'm just your brother, Hari. We'll go home together. It's what we're meant to do.'
Hari broke free and leaped to his feet, pacing to the entrance and back again. 'I can't go home! Night will hunt me down, or Lord Radas will. If I don't obey them, they hurt me. And since I can't die, then I just suffer and it hurts so badly. We've got to get you out of here. If they know I have you, they'll force me to betray you. And I'll do it, because I'm a useless selfish coward. I've always been one. What do you think I've been running from all my life?'
Voices from outside startled them both. Shai began to stand, but Hari grabbed his arm and shoved him down on one of the rugs, gesturing for him to lie flat. He rolled Shai up inside the rug. From within the stifling confines, Shai heard Hari plop down on the couch as several people entered.
'Aren't you ready to go yet?' demanded a coarse voice bleeding with raw rage. 'You're such a cursed lazy ass, Hari.'
'Yordenas, control yourself.' The other voice was also male, as sharp as poison. 'Harishil, I expected you to be ready to depart. There are slaves who can collect these furnishings.'
'I thought I was going back to Walshow with the camp followers to make sure they disperse,' said Hari, his voice more like a sullen lad's than a grown man's. 'And then afterward set up as commander over the northern region based in High Haldia with Captain Arras as my administrator. That's what you promised me.'
'That's what Night promised you,' sneered the one called
Yordenas. 'Because she favors your sorry, rotten hide despite you running the second army into disaster at Olossi.'
'Yordenas!'
'My apologies, my lord.' The cringing tone sounded real enough, as slimy as scummed water. 'I would have done better, had I been given the chance. I was a reeve. Marshal of a reeve hall. I know how to command.'
'You are to be given your chance now, Yordenas. As for you, Harishil, may I remind you that promises are not coin, they are contingencies. Our plans have changed. We've pulled most of the forces out of the far north and Haldia in order to quickly subdue Nessumara and the delta region. Surely you understand that under the circumstances, given your complete failure to direct the southern expedition against Olossi, you will have to prove yourself to us before we can possibly allow you a new command.'
The other man sniggered.
'Furthermore, there is the matter of the woman wearing Death's cloak, the one called Marit. You may not have betrayed us, precisely, but we can't be sure you are reliable. You may have mixed loyalties. I would be rid of you if it were up to me. Yet Night has insisted you be given a second chance. Therefore, I have a special assignment for you.'
'I should have had it,' groused the one called Yordenas. 'I wanted to go.'
'I thought you wanted to command an army,' said Hari. 'But if you can't make up your mind, you're welcome to take my new assignment, whatever it is.'
'Don't be hasty, Harishil,' said the poisonous voice.
'What is it you want, Lord Radas?'
'Neh, what is it you want? Do you want your staff?'
Felt even through the muffling layers of thick carpet, a shift of tension tightened the air like the taste of a coming storm. Weight pressed on Shai's left hip as one of the men rested his foot heavily there.
'Maybe I do,' mumbled Hari. 'Maybe I- don't care. Maybe I don't want to judge people, as you do.'
The poisonous voice grew silkier, killing with a sweeter flavor. 'You know Night wishes to interview all the gods-touched, but we're seeking in particular an outlander Bevard captured not far west of here, a young man who was veiled to his sight. He should have reached the army by now.'
'He'll talk when I get my hands on him!' Yordenas had a mean edge to his voice that Shai imagined was accompanied by a grin, rather as Shai's awful brother Girish had giggled when he contemplated the nasty things he could do to helpless children.
'Sure he'll talk,' drawled Hari, 'after one whiff of your foul breath, Yordenas. What's to say the cursed outlander isn't dead already? Or fled? Or that Bevard wasn't so drunk that he mistook his vomit for a man?'
The pressure of the foot eased abruptly. The sounds of a scuffle ended with Yordenas's yelp.
'Harishil, you do not amuse me,' said Lord Radas. 'That such an outlander exists I do not doubt, nor should you. Now and again a rare individual is gods-touched, able to see ghosts. Such individuals are veiled to the sight of Guardians. Therefore dangerous. Able to commit crimes and lie about it.'
The dust in the carpet made Shai's eyes itch, or perhaps it was the memory of ghosts that stung.
'Dangerous to justice,' Hari asked, 'or merely dangerous because we can't bully them by ripping out their hearts and fears and shames?'
'Your gods-rotted outlander ass is just waiting to get itself whipped, isn't it?' said Yordenas.
'You're one who loves to bully, aren't you, Yordenas?'
'Enough!' The voice of Lord Radas cut deep. The weight of the foot returned, pinching Shai's skin, but he
