The Blackgod

her with my soldiers and a wall of stone and make her safe. But this is Mang country, do you understand? I have no soldiers, only kinfolk, and I have to spend as much time trying to please them as they to please me. And if I tell them to do something they are set hard enough against, they will ignore me. Then I lose face and power, and the next time they listen to me even less. Those men you killed today have relatives in my own clan. They will not forget you, or her, or me, for not giving you up. I have few enough years left to live, and I had hoped to live them in comfort, but that dream withers in the sun now. So don't you upbraid me for not being able to do what no man can do!”

Tsem's eyes widened with startlement, but his face stayed set. “I'll kill anyone else who tries to touch her, too,” he said. “So you better help us get away from here, before I have to break more of your precious kinsmen and make your old age even more uncomfortable.”

“Tsem,” Hezhi said softly. “Hush. He has already helped us, don't you understand?”

“No. I don't understand why they can't let you be. You've already … we've already…” Tsem suddenly bent and ground his face into the wall, shuddering.

Hezhi's gut wrenched. “Tsem!”

The Giant moaned and thrust his hand back, motioning her away.

“He must have been wounded,” Ngangata muttered. “I didn't see—”

“No,” Tsem croaked. “Not wounded.”

Hezhi understood then. The half Giant was crying.

“Please,” she said to Ngangata and Brother Horse. “Please get the horses together, or whatever. If we have to leave, we have to leave. But could the two of you make the arrangements?”

The old Mang nodded, but Ngangata hung back stubbornly.

“I will watch Perkar,” she assured him. “I'll watch him.”

After a moment the half man nodded curtly and followed Brother Horse from the yekt.

Hezhi approached Tsem and laid her hand on his massive ribs.

“I've never seen you cry,” she whispered.

“I don't mean to,” he wheezed. “It's just that… why can't they leave you alone!”

“Shh.”

“I saw how the priests hurt you, in Nhol, and I could do nothing. I saw the horror that never left your face, after you went down into that place, that place under the sewers. And then I could do nothing. Finally—”

“Finally you helped me escape the most terrible fate anyone could imagine.”

“Yes, and had to be carried away from Nhol on my back. I know who saved whom back in Nhol, Princess.”

She knelt, and hot tears were starting in her own eyes. “Listen to me, Tsem. You did save me, just not the way you think. I almost …” Became a goddess? Razed Nhol to its foundations? Would that have been so bad, looking back?

“I almost became something terrible,” she finished. “You saved me.”

“I don't remember that. How could I have done that?”

“Just by being Tsem. By loving me.”

“Ah. I thought you wanted me to stop crying.”

“I don't care if you cry,” she soothed. But she did. Even wounded, Tsem had not seemed so feeble to her. He had always been her wall, her strength. Wounded, he had merely been awaiting repair, being rebuilt to be her tower again. But this struck her down to the bone, all the way down. She was really alone here, in this place. She had to be her own strength, and even Giants couldn't protect her now.

She hated herself, but she wished he hadn't cried. She wished he had kept it in, wept to the wind later. But he hadn't, and now she knew, and she loved him enough not to tell him what he had done: that he had made it all worse.

“Come on,” she whispered. “We have to get ready to go. The world awaits us.”

XVIII On the Barge

A bright clattering of gulls blew through the door as the old man stepped into the darkened cabin. He stood for a moment, silhouetted in a rectangle of sunlight, a breeze that smelled like water and iron seeping past his body. Ghe motioned him in.

“You,” Ghan grunted. “What do you have to do with all of this?”

“My father has more influence than I ever told anyone,” Ghe answered, secretly amused by his joke. In his heart of hearts, his father was the River.

“Enough to command the use of a royal barge? Don't lie to me, boy.”

Ghe sighed and stood politely, smoothing the hem of his dark green robe. He motioned for the librarian to sit on the pillows heaped about the cabin. Ghan ignored the motion, stubbornly continuing to stand on the slowly rocking deck.

“Yes, then, you've seen through me,” Ghe admitted. “Please sit down. Have a measure of coffee.”

“I don't intend to stay.”

Ghe shook his head. “As you imply, you and I are in the grip of powers greater than ourselves. The emperor's soldiers are still outside, and I doubt that I can persuade them to leave.” Ghe was amazed at the strength of the old man. He could sense the cloud of fear and uncertainty about him, and yet his face and manner betrayed no such sentiments. A worthy opponent and a needed ally.

“But you know what this is all about?” Ghan asked, eyeing him critically.

“Indeed. As do you, I expect.”

“Hezhi,” the old man said dully, reaching to pinch the folds of his brow with one hand.

“Hezhi? Not ‘Hezhinata’?”

Ghan's only answer was a glare.

“She is in danger, you know. Master Ghan, she is in deadly danger.”

Ghan folded his thin arms across his chest like a hedge of bone, protecting him. “Danger.”

“Please sit down, Master Ghan. I tire of standing myself.”

Ghan pursed his lips in undisguised frustration and then, with a slight nod, settled onto one of the felted pillows. He appeared uncomfortable, sitting without a desk in his lap, a book splayed open before him. Ghe smiled reassuringly, bent, and poured coffee from a silver urn into twin porcelain cups. He offered one to Ghan, who took it almost without seeming to notice. His attention was focused entirely on Ghe, as if he were trying to peer through his clothing to the lies they hid, through the scarf about his throat to the impossible scar.

“Tell me what danger,” Ghan demanded.

“From whom else? From the priesthood.”

“The priesthood?”

“It has come to the attention of the emperor that the priesthood plans an expedition to search for her.”

“Search for her? Why?”

“Who knows what purposes hide behind their robes and masks? But the emperor believes that it has to do with the Royal Blood.”

“Away from the River, she is no danger to them.”

“I know little of these matters, Master Ghan. I am only the son of a merchant, an engineer at best. What I do know is that what is true or false is of no consequence to the priesthood. Set in motion, they are like a stone falling. What remains beneath them is crushed. For whatever reason, we know they seek her. Furthermore, we believe that they know where she is.”

“They could not.”

“Couldn't they? They have been sending out spies for the better part of a year. They have been working their sorcery, watching the stars.”

“All of this the emperor told you.”

Ghe held out his hands. “I did not, of course, have an audience with the Chakunge himself. But his minister spoke to me, after I made my concerns known.”

“Your concerns?”

Ghe nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. The priests talk, and the careful ear ensnares their words. I have heard