If he knew for certain she was here, then likely he would have fetched Master Isar already. That he has not suggests he suspects she is here but has yet no proof. So, if I give a word to him, he'll run-'
'No!' The forceful word spoiled the delicate hush.
'Of course she must be returned to her father. I am sorry if that answer displeases you, Mistress. You have a kind heart. But Captain Anji will insist.'
O'eki and Priya said nothing, but the gazes they bent on her were like the pressure of a hand checking impetuous speech. Did they want her to say one thing and expect her to say another? Yet her heart was determined. In the chamber behind, glimpsed through a partially open door, Miravia lay sprawled on the pallet; she had been so exhausted she had collapsed soon after Mai had drawn her inside. The baby's cot was tucked into the corner. Sheyshi, snoring lightly on a pallet just outside the sleeping chamber, had not even awakened.
'How did Miravia get inside?' Mai asked.
'I let her in.'
'Do you ever sleep, Tuvi?'
'I was restless, Mistress. Thinking of things. Hard to sleep then, eh?'
Certainly, as exhausted as Mai had felt earlier, she was wide awake now. 'I can't do it, Tuvi. I can't betray her.'
'She belongs to her father, Mistress. You accepted such a marriage. You were wiser than she was.'
'Maybe I was just fortunate!' she snapped. 'Hu! I beg your pardon, Chief. I know you are only telling me what everyone else will tell me, but I cannot do it.'
'I'll do it, Mistress. A word to the suspicious agent outside or a messenger sent directly to the compound, if you wish. The Ri Amarah will thank us, and Captain Anji will return home to a peaceful house, just as he likes it.'
His calm words decided her. Rising, she found her market face. 'Of course you are right, Tuvi. Never let it be said I turned my back on a distasteful task and let another perform it in my place. I'll go myself to the Ri Amarah house. But I must sleep first, for I'm very tired.'
He nodded. 'You are an honorable person, Mistress. Now, if you will, I want to settle the dawn rounds.'
She released him, a courtesy he extended to her, for although she ran the household and all of the business arrangements and dealings, he commanded the security measures in Anji's absence. Just as he would never question any negotiation she entered into or any contract she sealed, she knew where her authority ended and where Anji's began.
She slipped inside the door, Priya behind her. O'eki remained standing on the porch. From the bushes, the first dawn songs were I rilled. The sky was still black, stars blazing.
Priya touched her elbow. 'In the Mei household folk often called you stupid, or light-minded, or simpering, or precious. But I know these words describe what they see, not what is there. If you show a calm face to the world, it is not because you are without passion. If you do not challenge those who command you, it is not because you are too placid to protest. If you are obedient, it is not because you obey thoughtlessly, knowing no other course of action. I hear defiance in your voice, even if I am surprised Chief Tuvi did not. What are you planning?'
'I'll need help from you and O'eki to get out of the compound and the city. No one else must know. Can you do it?'
From the porch, O'eki spoke as if he had already guessed her intentions and run through several plans. 'It's possible to get out the back gate if you are willing to hide cramped in a chest, Mistress. I will need another hireling to help me carry it. Priya will have to stay here to guard the chamber and say you are sleeping. It will be easy enough to hire a covered palanquin down by Crow's Gate. Even so, our movements can be traced.'
'There lies the risk. I'll have to take Atani in case he wants nursing.'
'Chief Tuvi is right,' said Priya. 'Captain Anji will tell you to return her to her father.'
With trembling hands, she grasped Priya's fingers. 'I know.' She swallowed a sob, like drinking down sorrow. 'But I will never forgive myself if I do nothing. Never never never.'
Miravia stirred. Abruptly, she sat bolt upright. 'Mai?' she croaked.
Mai released Priya's warm hands and knelt beside Miravia, whose hands were cold. 'Hush, my sister. You must wake now. We're going to leave right away.'
'Where are we going?'
A pallor had lightened the shroud of night to a gleam neither night nor day which is called twilight for partaking of both and yet sustaining neither. Priya watched Mai, expression quiet in the gloom. O'eki waited on the porch, big body blocking her view of the garden.
'The only place we can go,' said Mai.
Soon after dawn, Arras gave the order and his cohort moved out, shields tortoised and wagons crammed with wounded and provisions. He forced the hostages to walk outside the shields. If the
Nessumaran militia broke the truce and attacked, they would kill unarmed civilians first. It's what he would do, in their position: he'd shoot down the civilians and break through the shield wall, because a cohort stuck out on an unprotected causeway was too easy to pass up. But he doubted the local militia had the stomach for such slaughter.
He hung back with the rearguard until the last soldiers cleared the bridge. Four sorry-looking hostages, the most truculent of the crew, trotted at the end, tied by long ropes to the rearmost wagon so they couldn't bolt. He moved up alongside the unit, marking their brisk pace and even footfalls, their confident gazes, their energy. The other hostages stared over the mire more than they watched their feet, although no one tried to run. If the enemy did not kill them, his people would shoot them in the back as they splashed into the swamp.
'Captain!' Zubaidit hailed him. 'Must I walk out here with the rest? Didn't I prpve my loyalty by walking in among the enemy last night to take your message?'
He kept striding along with his attendants streaming behind. He thought he heard a few among the hostages hiss at her words, but that sound might also have been the flutter and flurry of wings as waterfowl rose in numbers off their tranquil feeding ground, disturbed by the tread of feet. Boats bobbed out of his reach. The rising sun glinted on stretches of water. Reeds swayed in the morning breeze.
They reached the front of the cohort. The causeway speared straight over the mire; he could not yet see the solid earth of the mainland, only the blur of gray-blue water and green reeds.
'Captain?' Sergeant Giyara gestured up.
Eagles soared overhead; those gods-rotted reeves would never let up. Then gold winked, like a spark of sunlight detached from the spreading rays. He squinted, shaded his eyes, tilted his head and tried to find that trick of the light again, but it was lost in the gleam.
'The hells!' swore Giyara.
The cloak trotted to earth on the causeway before them, and the soldiers dropped to their knees, bowing their heads.
Lord Radas himself had come. His cloak — almost as bright in its golden splendor as the sun itself — rippled as in an unfelt breeze. Arras felt fear as a knife in his ribs, but he walked forward anyway, because he must. He was captain; he was
responsible. He knelt on one knee and raised both hands to shield his gaze obediently.
'Lord Radas. What is your will?'
'What is your name?'
'Captain Arras, of the Sixth Cohort. I have with me remnants of the First Cohort.'
'You are retreating rather than holding the forward position. When Lord Yordenas spoke to you last night, you were encamped farther out, on an island.'
When thrown off balance, it was best to right yourself by throwing a punch. 'Lord Yordenas ordered the retreat, my lord. I suggested we hold the forward position and asked Lord Yordenas to undertake a reconnaissance to estimate the true strength of the Nessumaran militia.'
'We were betrayed.' Lord Radas had a mild voice, nothing odd in it, only its tone had a timbre that made a man shudder even to hear simple words spoken in a seemingly reasonable manner. A madman might speak so as he was cutting your throat. 'Look at me, Captain.'
Aui! A man in his line of work could never know, never plan for, and must never dwell on when death might arrive to carry him to the Spirit Gate.
No sense waiting.
