Shadowkill sq-3, page 26
part #3 of Shadith's quest Series
They were digging up the roots, brushing them off and tossing them into baskets, laughing, chattering, Jassy teasing the girls about lovers in the Brush, Eeda throwing tubers at her sister when she got too graphic. A cheerful lot, working hard, trying to get the field clean before the sun got too high.
There was a shot. Another.
Jassy’s head exploded, she fell sprawling across a row of tuber plants. Eeda screamed, crumpled across her sister as another pellet punched through her heart.
The watchchals in the towers began shooting.
The Herbmistress and the workers were on their stomachs crawling for the walls.
A few more shots tore through the rustling plants, a girl grunted and lay still, another screamed as a pellet tore off her braided topknot.
The top of one tower exploded. A ministinger from a dart tube. Another mini blew out part of the House’s roof.
Then the fire from the towers drove off the tumaks.
The Herbmistress and the chal and chapa still alive got to their feet, grabbed the tuber baskets, and ran for the Gate.
The attack was over.
##
As the days passed, tumaks set fire to the grainfields and the garden plots, destroying much of the food the Kuysstead needed for the winter.
They set fire to the Brush.
They blew apart more towers, killing the watchchals and those the towers fell on.
P’murr organized roving teams who managed to ambush many of the tumak bands; the chals had the advantage of knowing the land and the brushcraft of the tumaks was sketchy at best.
When the tumaks fired the Brush, the Brushies joined the fight. They slipped round the tumak bands and slaughtered them, armed themselves with the tumaks’ weapons, and searched out the base up in the mountains. It was defended and well supplied, but the Brushies knew the ground in ways even chal and chapa did not and they got in and out like ghosts, stealing whatever they could get their hands on, destroying what they couldn’t carry off.
And still the tumaks hit and hit again.
11
In the middle of the night a ministinger crashed into the side of the House, blew out a large chunk of wall and floor, just missing Shadith’s bed. The bed tilted, creaked and fell through the gap before Shadith woke enough to understand what was happening.
It landed on the roof of the women’s quarters, slid down the pantiles and shattered on the paving stones.
Shadith was jolted by the sudden stop, bruised and more than a little terrified, but nothing was broken. She crawled out of the mess and knelt on the still-warm paving stones, gaping up at the hole in the wall. “Tsoukbaraim!”
More of the wall fell away and her boots came flying down, hit the tiles, and slid off to land close by the bed. She got shakily to her feet, stood looking at the boots and laughing.
“Kiz, you all right?”
She looked up. Tinoopa was leaning out her window, her dark braid dangling past her shoulders. “Bruised but intact,” Shadith yelled back. “Better than the bed.”
“Hang on, I’ll be down and let you in.”
“Th-thanks.” She was suddenly shaking all over her body, shaking so hard her knees gave under her and she dropped to the mattress; she grabbed the boots, hugged them to her breasts, and started crying. She was alive. But it’d been so close. So CLOSE.
She was still shaking, still crying, still clutching the boots, when Tinoopa came down and led her inside.
##
She woke to afternoon heat and the realization that the Grays had gone away as if they’d never been. She was ALIVE!
The Hook Is Baited: Autumn Rose Goes Fishing In A Pond Of Sharks
1
Autumn Rose poured more of the resinated wine into the stemmed glass and looked out across blue blue water to the lichenous city that spread gray and olive and dull brown along the curve of the shore. “I drink enough of this and I might even get to like it.”
They were sitting in a nest of pillows and reed mats on one of the many small barren islets spattered across the bay; the catboat he’d come in was moored to a rock, her outrigger snugged next to it. The maneuver had gone as planned, with Hadluk providing the meal and the comforts. He liked his food and he’d used the Shimmery’s cooks to good purpose. He’d also avoided even a hint at the proposition she was out here to hear from him, steering her away from it when impatience got too much for her.
A flock of birds rose from the next island over, a sudden swirl of orange and blue; they circled around twice and settled back. Seeing ghosts, she thought. She sipped at the wine, enjoying the harsh roughness against her palate. The birds swirled again, went screaming away, came fluttering back.
She flicked on the mute cone and turned to Hadluk. “Wasn’t very nice of you, aiming Uj at me like that.”
For a moment she thought he was going to turn away even that oblique attempt to focus on the reason for this picnic, then he said. “Found out what I wanted to know, didn’t I?”
“Did you?”
“Found out you’re hungry but not desperate.”
“I told you I wasn’t hurting.”
“So you did.”
“Hunh.” She refilled her glass, held it up so the sun shone through the straw-colored liquid. “So what’s this about?”
“Hungry, yes.”
“Belaboring the obvious, Hadluk. I’m assembling a stake. If you want a piece of that, think again.”
“No gain without pain, Rose.”
“I choose my pains, Hadluk. This isn’t one.”
“All right.”
“So,” she stared down into the glass, tilted it side to side to make the light wine swirl, looked up suddenly, challenging him, “do we say thanks for lunch, pack up, and go home?”
He wrinkled his nose, refilled his glass from the amber bottle he kept close to his side. The wind blew the smell of the soursweet ouiskag across to her, it was a smell that hung around him like a halo, stronger today than yesterday. Good thing she wasn’t depending on him for much. He sipped from the glass, cleared his throat. “JuhFeyn opens up the Mewa Room three, four times a year for Topenga Vagnag. Same rules as always, table stakes only, no markers, truce ground, and everyone with masks. Last few years, it’s been more or less the same players, same sort, anyway, some of the Southern Vaarlords… um, might be one, two, three, um slummers, you know the types, and probably someone from Mimishay, there’s usually at least one. He’ll come by flit from their place on Haed Nunn. Maybe the manager of the Black House, if he’s not too busy to get away. And sometimes the High Vaar. Though juhFeyn’s the only one knows for sure who’s coming.
“He does the inviting; he handles the security, no bodyguards allowed; he supplies food, drink, and Dasuttras. Word is the High Vaar wanted a good game and a safe ground, got juhFeyn to handle it because ol’ Jao’s married to one of his cousin’s daughters. Jao uses me to keep things honest; you’d be surprised what some of these types get up to… He glanced at her, shook his head. “Or maybe you wouldn’t. Player gets one warning, then he’s out.” He coughed, squeezed his hands into fists. “Big,” he whispered. “Piles of gold-there-begging someone to take it. I want some of that, Rose. I have one chance. One and run.”
“Masks. Hmm. You wouldn’t have to worry about tells. Or Pulleet, what about him?”
“You played him.”
“I get the point.”
“Even if I could do the calcs, Rose, juhFeyn would slit my throat if I tried slipping in.”
Autumn Rose let her head fall back against the boulder behind her, stroked her fingers under her chin and down the curve of her throat. “I’ve got this perverse fondness for breathing through my nose, Hadluk.”
“You’re an outsider, Rose. He doesn’t know you. With your help and a little luck, I can work it. If you want it.”
“Oh, yeh, I want it. How good are they?”
“Better than average but nowhere as good as they think they are. I’ve watched those games the past twelve years, Rose. Watched and sweated. And waited for my chance. You’re it.”
“I like the setup, but I’m still not risking my stake. Financing’s up to you. And it has to be big, Hadluk, or they’ll freeze me out of every hot one.”
“Pulleet and me, we’ve had some things going for us. We’ll bank you. We’ll cut the take four ways, three to us, one to you.”
“Seems to me, I’m the one doing the work. Down the middle. Half to me, half to you, you can split your half however you want.”
“I’ll go three ways, it may be your labor, Rose, but it’s also the past twenty years I’ve spent scraping together that stake. I’ll throw in passage offworld with me and Pulleet. You do realize you’d better be somewhere else when the sun comes up?”
“Hadluk, my Luck went soft for a while, not my head.”
He grinned at her and lifted his glass. He shouldn’t grin, she thought, he looks deformed when he grins. “The Lady bless,” he said, then gulped down the ouiskal without waiting for her to join him. He coughed and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth; his eyes glittered at her over the soft white curve of his pampered palm. “We start building you tonight. I want you in dresses like the one you wore first time we played, I want you to clean the marks down to their toenails. They love a winner on this world. A winner’s as good as a saint, maybe better. Every night after that, as long as we can pull in marks who want to beat you, I want you winning, I want rumors breeding like maggots in meat. You hear?”
“Fine with me. One thing, Hadluk, and you better believe it. I start getting official pressure, you know what I mean, I fade. My nerves are a tad touchier than they were back when.”
“I’ll talk juhFeyn into putting the word out. Shouldn’t be hard to do since he gets ten percent of the net from everyone who plays. Even Uj pays him. Once the rumors start, you’ll be hauling them in and he’s a man with an eye for profit.”
She frowned. “I didn’t…”
“I took it out when I culled my cut, thought you’d call me on it. Slipping, Rose.”
She shrugged. “I was waiting for the deal. If I was interested, fine, if not, it could come out of your hide. Ten per, hmm? You take that out of the gross, Hadluk, not out of my third. I mean it.”
He blinked at her, let it go. “So, you don’t need to worry about the lice.”
“When’s this Game going to happen?”
“Don’t know yet. Jao never announces the date ahead of time, but there’s things he does to get ready and he’s started them, he’s got feelers out for prime Dasuttras, getting in a special cook, went to see the High Vaar yesterday. I’d say sometime soon, no earlier than ten days from today, not more than thirty. Plenty of time for you to get known.”
“I hear. Does juhFeyn do any banking for his players?”
“What?”
“My winnings. I’m not walking back and forth with that kind of cash stuffed down my front. I want that made very clear.”
“Good idea. You might as well start that tonight. He’ll be at the Shimmery going over the books. He’ll see you, he’s a man with an itch, curiosity, you know. Um. Yes. He’ll be in to watch you play after a few nights, just to make sure it’s Luck not fingers. You understand that?”
“Luck. And what I’ve got in my head, Hadluk. Never my fingers, it doesn’t pay.”
“That was before.”
“That’s now and always. I can’t help what jorkheads think, if you can call what they do thinking, I play straight.”
“I never said you didn’t, Rose. I’m just saying Jao will want to make sure.”
“Fine. Long as he knows what he’s seeing. You said he keeps you around for that.”
“I’m the sump, Rose. The goat. The finger. I get the bad vibes and he stays clean. Believe me, he’ll know.”
She got to her feet. “Well, it’s time I was busy getting ready. I take it we don’t meet again until after the Game. Not to talk, I mean.”
“Right. Keep it clean.”
“I’m off, then.” She scooped up the mute cone, dropping it in her bag, and strolled toward the boats, picking her footing with care among the weathered stones.
##
When she was out on the water, she looked back. He was still sitting in his nest; she saw a glint of amber as he tilted the bottle one more time. She clicked her tongue. Not good, that. Ah well, doesn’t matter, I, don’t need this, not like I used to.
2
Kikun shifted on the window seat, knocking one of the pillows onto the floor, his eye a brief orange flash. “You trust him?”
Autumn Rose snorted. “About half as far as I could throw him.” She rubbed fingertips along her jaw. Kikun was tired tonight. Withdrawn. She got the feeling he was desperately unhappy, but there was nothing she could do to help; he wasn’t going to talk about it. “I’m all right until the Game,” she said. “He’ll keep things sweet until that’s over. It’s worth the trouble.”
Another flash of orange eye. “And you’re itching for it.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s been a long time. I like working for Digby…”
“Hmm.”
She fidgeted as the silence developed. “I don’t know, Kuna. This whole business is weird. I don’t know why Digby got involved in it. He’s been paid, yeh, but I doubt he’s close to breaking even. He never tells us anything except what we need to know to do our part of the job. That’s all right, there’s no confusion that way. When I was working the team, you know, advising the Dyslaerins, when we were tracking down leads to Ginny’s auction, it was business, that’s all. I liked them, but that was beside the point. It was a clear, clean job. Even when it went wrong, it had… um… shape! Do you see what I’m saying? I like to do a quick, neat job. It’s a good feeling, Kuna. You slide in, do the thing, slide out. No fuss. Neat. Surgical almost. Well, doesn’t happen like that all the time, even most of the time… most of the time it gets messy one way or another… when it does, though… AH! when it does… when… things… click, you’re wired, you’re walking the edge… I like that, Kuna… but… I don’t know… this business… it’s like a fog… I can’t get hold of it… makes me crazy when I think about it… mostly I try not to… think about it, I mean. The Game now… that’s clean. Do you blame me for wanting that? Why didn’t Digby call me back? I’m not… I’m a sprinter, Kuna, I run out of go on a long trail. Goerta b’rite, I’ll be glad to get off this world… “ She sat up abruptly. “This is no use. Look. Have you got anything more from Sai?”
“No.” After a minute he amplified this. “He hasn’t been in to the office once. He runs the place through the com. I don’t know how to find him. Likely he’s trying to duck the Squeeze, if we believe your source.” He swung around and sat up, shaking himself as if to throw off the lassitude eating at him. “I can’t get a smell of him, Rose. I’m cut off…” He shivered, his eyes flickered restlessly. “I don’t think we can pin him, not in the time we have… with the Game being the limit. You want what he’s got on Mimishay, you’ll have to ask the kephalos.”
She grimaced. “I hear, Kuna. You don’t mind, I want you in that office in the morning, picking up everything you can get about keying in.”
“When will you go for it?”
“Sometime around the Game. Probably the night before. I don’t know. Depends on how things are, what you can get, how much time I’m going to need, how much noise it’s going to involve.” She sighed. “How desperate we are. Um. Hadluk says someone from Mimishay might be there, a Player. You can pin him as Omphalos?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then we’ll see, won’t we.”
3
The dance began.
She won.
And won again.
She found a dressmaker and got clothes made, started the woman on a black dress like the one Hadluk remembered after so many years. Long hard years for her, harder for him, he was sculling round bottom. At first she’d been annoyed at him, telling her what to wear when she hadn’t asked, hadn’t intended to ask, then she changed her mind.
That was a good night, she’d been sure of herself. More than sure. It was magical now-from the time she rose in the morning until she went to sleep on the ship out-magical how everything she touched went right. She knew the value of talismans, for herself and for him. They gave that extra THING WITHOUT A NAME to people they touched. That night she’d tapped the flow and ridden it higher than she’d gone before or after. It was good to recapitulate, recapture, revivify that woman who was, that woman who KNEW. The local fibers didn’t have the special sheen of avrishum, but they had their own beauties and when she drew the heavy, rich, black material across her arm, the hairs on her spine stood up. Yes, this was going to be another magical dress, she felt it wake the power in her. She gave the woman the sketch and her measurements and paid the price for the cloth without a murmur of protest.
##
The Angatines set up a tent as close to the Kipuny Shimmery as Jao juhFeyn would permit and held a mourning service every night she played, starting their keening the moment she came round the corner. Whitened faces and bodies moved in a somber, slow dance to the steady slow thump of the drums. The Blind Woman chanted her exorcisms in a wild rough contralto.
No one paid attention to them, they were just part of the show. She’d been afraid they’d wake hostility among the locals, but apparently the Rummers were used to the Angatines taking against somebody and calling the wrath of heaven on them. Apparently the wrath of heaven struck or didn’t strike according to the whims of God and the Rummers didn’t consider that any business of theirs.
