Page 60 of Queen Demon
“No, frighteningly enough.” Bashasa was deeply troubled. “From what I observed, and heard from others, they are as pragmatic as you are. But they deliberately breed fanaticism in their followers. Like the legionaries who die rather than betray them, even when we offer alternatives.”
Raihar’s expression was dubious, though Cimeri gestured her understanding. Then a cadre soldier lifted the tent flap and said, “Prince-heir? Prince-heir Hiranan has sent to tell you a messenger has just arrived.”
“Ah, I must go.” Bashasa pushed to his feet. “Raihar and Cimeri, I will leave you now to Kai, the physicians, and Ibel and her family, who will help you rest and recover.”
“Wait…” Raihar looked up, her expression knotted in concern. “What will happen to us?”
“You are guests here,” Bashasa said firmly. “If you choose, you can leave us as soon as you are able. If you wish, you can go with those of our people who cannot fight, to a place of relative safety, and wait there with them until we achieve victory overthe Hierarchs or die in the attempt. Or, you can travel with us, as part of the Fourth Prince’s cadre, under his authority, and fight the Hierarchs. I would give you more choices if I could, but that is all there is at the moment.”
Cimeri and Raihar looked at Ibel, who moved a hand in the Witchspeak forwe fight. Raihar hesitated, and Bashasa said, “There is no need to make the decision now. Rest and recover first.”
After speaking more with Raihar and Cimeri, Kai left them to sleep, hopefully reassured about their situation. The long twilight had started to fall, darkness gathering around the tents as the fires were banked for the night. Without the woodsmoke and cooking smells, the cool wind was scented with flowers and a sharp cedar-like tree from the hills. Kai would need to get back to his cadre. It was possible the dustwitches might try a counterattack, and they had to be alert.
The two Witches had given him a lot to think about, though little of it seemed helpful. The key to the group had to be the Doyen, but Kai had no idea yet how to deal with her. Trying to bargain or reason with her seemed a good way to get killed. But killing the dustwitches’ leader didn’t seem like any way to get their help. Especially with the mental and emotional sway she seemed to hold over the group.
Kai patrolled with his cadre for half the night, then got a little sleep before waking alone in his tent in the pre-dawn light. He dressed in the clothes he had washed the other day and pulled on his battered expositor’s coat. Most of the soldiers were still asleep so he picked his way quietly through the circle of their camp. Trenal, back on camp watch for the morning, told him that several messengers had come in over the course of the night and that Bashasa had stayed in the caravanserai with the other Prince-heirs, going over the new information, and that Ziede had woken earlier and gone to join them.
That sounded like something Kai needed to catch up on. He followed the path through the encampment, deeply wrapped in the gray shadow before the first touch of sunrise, quiet in the cool morning air. The only movement and voices came from soldiers who were on cooking or latrine duty or getting ready for their turn at patrol.
When he passed the caravanserai’s bathhouse and came to the stone archway where the building straddled the old road, he heard Lahshar’s voice, sharpened to wound.
She was saying, “Why this infatuation with the demon? Those who saw him before he turned expositor said it was because he must remind you of your sister.”
Kai went still, one foot half lifted for the next step. He knew who she was talking to, of course. From their voices, they were near the outer doorway that led into the caravanserai’s large ground floor hall. That door was closed, because no light shone from the archway.
Bashasa’s reply was equally sharp. “My sister was not a young lady of the Saredi who was technically dead when I met her.” Under the sting, he sounded flustered, though Kai wasn’t sure anyone who didn’t know Bashasa well would be able to hear it. Unfortunately, Lahshar was one of those people. “And if you were not so thoroughly unlikable, you might understand that what you call ‘infatuation’ is the normal growth of fellow feeling and affection that people engaged in the same enterprise often develop for each other.”
Lahshar started to reply, but Bashasa cut her off. “We have much to do today. Find something useful to occupy you.” Light spilled across the road as the door to the caravanserai swung open. Footsteps crunched on gravel, heading this way, then Lahshar swept out from under the arch. She stopped abruptly as she saw Kai, barely a step away. The two cadre soldiers behind her flinched and one actually dropped a hand to her punch-dagger.
Kai tilted his head. He said, “Anything you’d like to say to me?”
Lahshar had been caught by surprise, unprepared to see him, and she obviously hated that. She lifted her chin. “You should remember your purpose here.”
“My purpose,” Kai said, holding her gaze. “Is what Bashasa says it is.” He added, “If your soldier wants to stab me, tell her to go ahead. I won’t even kill her afterward.”
Lahshar flicked an irritated look to the side and snapped, “Come on.”
She strode away, the two soldiers following.
Kai stood there, breathing in the dawn air touched with smoke and dung and the sweet scents of the grasses, until the anger faded a little. He rolled his shoulders to release the tension and went into the caravanserai.
The central hall had clearly been the site of a lengthy meeting. A makeshift map table had paper and writing materials still scattered on it. A soldier walked around collecting forgotten cups and water jugs. From the voices coming down the stairwell, parts of the meeting had shifted upstairs, though Hiranan sat on a bench against the wall, leaning back and dozing. Some of her cadre sat beside her or on the floor nearby, glum and tired.
Bashasa stood at the table, looking down at it, arms folded and shoulders tense. Kai stepped up beside him, his attention caught by the map stretched on the boards. It was the fort at Dashar, the obstacle they had to remove once the Enalin arrived. It sat on the outer tip of a half-circle harbor, the city of Descar-arik occupying the curved opposite shore. From what Kai had heard, the fort was on a built-up mound surrounded on three sides by shallow water, and reached by a short wooden causeway over dunes and seagrass. But when the Hierarchs had taken it, they had dredged out the shore and made it a true island, with a more substantial bridge guarded with gates and a tower. Bashasa’s plans to get past the bridge included Ziede’s ability to fly and Tahren’s to kill a lot of legionaries quickly and quietly.
Bashasa realized someone stood next to him and turned, a distracted smile wiping out a grim expression. “There you are! Ah, then.” Fortunately he seemed too self-conscious to notice Kai’s self-consciousness. He took a sharp breath, seriousness settling over him like a pall. “There is news. It is not good.” He touched Kai’s shoulder, drawing him further away from the door and the others still in the hall.
Kai didn’t want any more news right now, he had had about all he could take, but he followed anyway.
Keeping his voice low, Bashasa said, “Vanguarders have returned from both Renitl-arik and our speakers to the Enalin. That fool Prince-heir Stamash has finally, belatedly, started the evacuation, but it won’t be in time—” He shook his head, looking away.
Bashasa struggled to overcome a wave of emotion, and it made cold prickles travel down Kai’s spine.We’re going to lose Renitl-arik, he thought. Or more importantly, lose everyone not fast enough or lucky enough to get out of the city in time. With this, the weary resignation of Hiranan’s soldiers, Bashasa’s pointless argument with Lahshar, all slotted into place. Kai swallowed and said, “I’m sorry.”
Bashasa squeezed Kai’s shoulder and visibly wrenched himself under control. “We don’t know what will happen yet. At least they are forewarned, this time.” He looked like he was steeling himself to reveal even worse news. “That’s not all.”
Kai’s stomach dropped. “The Enalin?” he asked. If the Enalin didn’t come, he had no idea what they would do. Try to hold out in the Arik, and die bit by bit probably.
“Yes. They have word from the Philosopher Tifar of Palm, who was a hostage with us in the Summer Halls. She has managed to place spies among the people conscripted to serve the legionary camps near the southern coast, and has word from them.” He hesitated, and plunged on. “You know there was some indication—like the expositor you killed who thought you had been set on himby a rival—that some demons who were being used in the fighting against the Ilveri and in Palm and Belith might have been brought here.”
