question of assizes is a serious one. To rely on the old ways when they no longer function is like rebuilding a house without first making sure your foundation is solid.'
Anji cut through the murmur of commentary following this speech by rising. 'I beg your indulgence.' He nodded around the benches. 'I've a wish to stroll up to the beacon tower with my wife before the sun sets.'
They fell over themselves to graciously retreat so the captain and his wife could enjoy what all described as a particularly fine view of the river and town, especially now that the rain had moved off and the sun was shining. After, Mai nursed Atani, and she and Anji, in company with Chief Tuvi and a cadre of soldiers, made their way through the late-afternoon bustle of town to the stone path that led up Candra Hill. Chief Tuvi carried Atani; Anji walked ahead with Mai up the steep stairs.
'You understand,' he said when they were halfway up, out of earshot of the guards in front and behind, 'that if you wish to see your uncle Hari' again, I cannot discuss militia matters in your hearing. If he is a spy for Lord Radas, he can learn what you know.'
'I do not believe he is Lord Radas's ally. Anyway, I doubt it is so easy even for a Guardian to know all that lies in a person's mind and heart. It must be more like searching for a child's doll lost in a field of ripe wheat.'
'Perhaps, but I cannot take the chance.'
'Then I accept the condition. I would rather visit Uncle Hari. Must I avoid all councils altogether? I would be sorry if that were so.'
'Not at all. You do well with these local councils. They do not feel intimidated by you', and yet they respect you because of your wealth, your trade connections, and your ability to listen. It makes sense for you to push to create a wider regional council, one that can later act in concert with the militia. Since you are accompanying me on this circuit, it would be useful for you to broach the idea in every place we stop, even in the humblest village.'
'Olossi's council will not like the idea of a regional council. They consider themselves to be the only regional council that matters, surely.'
'Is that not an excellent reason to encourage a regional council? To put brakes, as a caravan master might say, on those inclined to throw down their weight?'
They had reached the top of the hill. She paused to catch her breath. Stones from the fallen walls had been used to repair the beacon tower. The men on duty had already lined up for inspection; they were all local men, disciplined in the Qin manner but very open with their smiles and greetings toward Mai.
Anji gestured for her to follow him. Together, they climbed the stairs of the tower and stood beside covered stacks of kindling and logs. The view of the flowing river and the town spread along West Track was splendid; the light cast a mellow fire over courtyards, paths, orchards, and rooftops. Wind danced through the flags marking the river crossing. Below, the local guardsmen admired the baby, who was in a chortling expansive mood, quite the charmer as the young men competed to make him smile and laugh.
'Why did you bring me along?' she asked, leaning on the railing as he crouched to examine the stacked wood.
He did not look up. 'It's good for the people of Olo'osson to see my son, and to negotiate with the merchant who is my wife. Otherwise, they see me only as an outlander.'
'… One who intimidates them?' She studied him, easy to do when he was not looking at her. His topknot was neatly tied up; he had shed his armor and wore only a padded silk coat with the black silk tabard belted over it. He was not a handsome man, precisely; for simple beauty he could not compete with Reeve Joss or the many handsome young Hundred men with their ready smiles and easy way of displaying muscled physiques. He had a different quality; he was the wind that bends trees, the river that cuts the earth with its fluid strength, the inexorable sand that buries stone.
He caught her staring and did not smile, as if he was unsure of what she might be thinking, how she might be looking at him. Then she smiled, and he softened, rising to take her hand and stand beside her at the wall, a gesture of intimacy in which he rarely indulged in a public space.
'Are you content?' he asked.
She laughed. 'An odd question, coming from you, Anji!'
'Yet you haven't answered it.'
Was his tone dark, or was he teasing her? When she remembered the look on his face at the docks in Dast Olo, she wondered if she really understood him or only thought she did. The eastern reaches of West Track faded into shadows as the sun touched the western horizon. He waited, the pressure of his fingers light on her hand, as the shadows drew long and the men below laughed
and joked. Several began to sing a prayer to the dusk, and others joined in.
'Look to the horizon! A voice calls. Shadow Gate rises. Night is come.'
When the prayer was finished, she replied. 'My father would never have asked his wives that question, nor would their answers have concerned him. Why do you care if I am content?'
He released her hand to lean on his elbows on the wall, watching the child, safe in Tuvi's arms. 'Are you?'
'As a merchant, I must now point out that you have negotiated me into a corner. If I say 'yes,' it may seem my belated agreement stems not from genuine feeling but from expediency. To say 'no' is unthinkable, whether or not it might be true. What am I to say to the man who has freed me from an unhappy household and a life of tedious drudgery as a wife married into the Gandi-li sheep-herders' clan, ridden with me for months through desert and foreign lands defying storm and assassins, worked in concert with me to create a new home in a very fine land where we can hope to prosper, and given me in addition a handsome, good-natured infant son? If I were to say that it's as if I am living one of the storytelling songs I used to listen to and sing, you would laugh at me. You did before!'
'I never did.'
She placed a hand over his, claiming him. 'You did.' She leaned in and quickly kissed him, although anyone who happened to be looking up would see.
'Mai!' He drew back hastily.
'I couldn't help myself.'
His eyes flared as his hand tightened on hers. He whistled sharply; Tuvi looked up, then gestured to the escort to make ready.
'Have you seen all you wished to see from this pleasant vista?' Mai asked innocently.
He tugged gently, but firmly, on her hand. Hu! She knew that look and felt her own cheeks flush in response.
'Remind me never to negotiate with you, Mai. On this field, I am not your match.'
She laughed and allowed herself, this time, to be led.
Marit left the shore of the Salt Sea on the western edge of the Hundred and traveled east-southeast. Sardia, Farhal, upper Haldia fell away beneath and behind her as the moon waxed and waned in its full cycle of twenty-four days. The paths of air concealed her, so she rode low to the ground and measured the army's occupation. The land lay in a kind of enforced quiescence. In her time as a reeve she had seen children stand in such stillness, heads bowed, hoping to avoid a beating from angry parents by avoiding being noticed. Stillness never helped, not when the fault lay not with them but with those who had the strength and reach to abuse them. Along major roads or outside town gates rose cleansing posts, always under guard, a warning and threat to those who might consider rebellion.
If she stopped to free the hanged from the posts, she would reveal her presence; she knew the news would eventually reach one of the cloaks she was trying to avoid. If she did not stop…
The hells!
She stopped each time, and commanded the guards to release those of the condemned who weren't yet dead. She told the guards that cleansing was meant to refine the heart and that those who had been hanged from the poles were now cleansed, that you did not have to be dead to be cleansed.
Not as she was dead, her old life ripped away, lost forever.
Because she was thinking of Joss, she journeyed across the mouth of the vale of Iliyat to spend a night up on the Liya Pass, at Candle Rock, the last place she and he had embraced the Devourer. Twenty-one years ago.
Candle Rock was too stony to harbor trees; a few hardy tea willows grew out of deep cracks where water pooled in the rainy season, and spiny starflowers flourished on the steep northern slope. She came to earth on the summit of the rock and released Warning. The mare flew off toward Ammadit's Tit, but, like Jothinin and Kirit, Marit
