“Are you not?”
“Why should I be?”
“It was here that your beloved was dragged to the auction block. Does that not make you angry?”
Kiall sat back and stared into the cold eyes of the scarred man. “Yes, it does. Are you saying it was … Tanaki … who led the raid?”
“No,” answered Harokas. “Tanaki merely controls the auctions. Nadren raiders travel here from all over the steppes. You should see this place at market time; it’s a revelation.”
“I still do not understand how an earl’s man is welcome here,” said Kiall.
Harokas chuckled. “That is because you do not … yet … understand the ways of the world. But I see no harm in instructing you. You will learn soon enough. You know, of course, that the lord regent outlawed the slave trade a decade ago.”
“Yes. And ended the serf laws. It was good policy.”
“That depends on your viewpoint. If you were a slave or a serf, indeed yes. But not if you were a nobleman. The wealth of the nobility used to depend on land. Not anymore, not with the fear of Nadir invasion. Crops bring profits, to be sure, but then, the Gothir lands are rich and food is cheap. No, the real profit was always in slaves. The lord regent did not take this into account with his new laws. Are you beginning to understand me?”
“No,” admitted Kiall.
“So slow? I took you for an intelligent man, but then, you are also a romantic and that must cloud your reason.” Harokas leaned forward. “The nobility never gave up the trade; they merely found another way of continuing. The raid on your village was sanctioned by the earl. He takes a share of the profits, and I am here to make sure his share is just.”
Kiall felt the taste of bile in his mouth. He swallowed hard and took a sip of the ale Harokas had purchased. “We pay him taxes. We look to him for protection. And he sells us out to line his pockets?”
“It is not a nice world, is it, farm boy?”
“Why tell me this? Why?”
Harokas shrugged. “Why not? Your chances of leaving here alive are negligible. And anyway, perhaps I am sick of it, too.” He rubbed his eyes. “I am getting old. There was a time when I believed in heroes—when I was young, like you. But there are no heroes, at least not the ones we want to see. Every man has his own reason for every deed. Usually it is selfish. Take your friends. Why are they with you? You think they care about Ravenna? No, they seek to recapture lost glories, lost youth. They want to hear their names in song again.”
“I do not believe that,” Kiall said. “Chareos and the others have risked their lives for me—and for Ravenna. And you cheapen them merely by speaking their names. Thank you for the meal.”
Kiall rose and left the table. The air outside was crisp and fresh, and he strode to the battlements. The two sentries ignored him as he gazed out over the land. He did not look in the direction of the camp but waited until the voice of Okas sounded in his mind.
“What do you have to tell us?” asked Okas.
“Nothing,” replied Kiall. “Tell Chareos not to come to the wall. I am waiting to see the woman Tanaki.”
“Be careful in her company. She has killed before and will kill again.”
“I will be careful. But she … disturbs me.”
He felt Okas drift from him and returned to the central square. The auction platform was large, supported by six piers of round stone. He pictured Ravenna standing on it, surrounded by Nadir men ogling her, desiring her. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her. But all he could see were the eyes of Tanaki, wide and slanted.
A man tapped his shoulder, making him jump.
“I thought it was you,” said Chellin. For a moment Kiall did not recognize the stocky warrior, but then he smiled.
“You are a long way from the mountains, Chellin. I am pleased to see you made it safely.”
The man sat down on a bench seat and scratched at his black and silver beard. “It wasn’t easy. You came a long way. How are your friends?”
“Alive,” answered Kiall.
“No mean feat, considering the number of men sent out to kill them.”
“I’m glad you were not with them,” said Kiall.
“I was. We got back this morning. Still, with luck you’ll sort out your difference with the princess, and we won’t have to meet on a battlefield.”
“The princess?”
“Tanaki. Did you not know she was Nadir royalty?”
“No, I did not.”
“She’s the youngest child of Tenaka Khan.”
“What is she doing here?” asked Kiall, amazed.
Chellin laughed. “You don’t know much about the Nadir, do you? To them women are nothing, worth less than horses. Tanaki had some sort of falling out with her brother, Jungir; he had her banished here.”
“She is very beautiful,” said Kiall.
“She is that—and the most desirable piece I ever saw. A man could die happy if he bedded her.”
Kiall reddened and cleared his throat. “Where will you go from here?” he asked.
Chellin shrugged. “Who knows? North again. Maybe not. I’m tired of this life, Kiall. I may head south to Drenai lands. Buy a farm, raise a family.”
“And have raiders descend on you to steal your daughters?”
Chellin nodded and sighed. “Yes. Like all dreams, it doesn’t bear close examination. I hope matters work well with you and the princess. I like you; I hope they don’t ask me to kill you.” Chellin rose and wandered away, but Kiall sat where he was for another hour. Then a warrior came seeking him.
“You are wanted,” said the man. Kiall stood and followed him back to the long hall.
Tanaki waited, as before, on the divan. She was dressed now in a short tunic of white linen, her legs and feet bare. She wore no jewelry or ornaments except for the silver buckle on her wide black belt.
As he approached, she rose. “Welcome to my hearth, Kiall. Sit and talk with me.”
“What would you have me say, lady?”
“Very little. Just give me a compelling reason why I should not have you killed.”
“Do you kill for no reason?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” she told him. “Is that so surprising?”
“I am becoming inured to surprises, Princess. Tell me, will you help me find Ravenna?”
She took his hand and led him to the divan, sitting beside him with her arm resting on his shoulder. “I am not sure that I will. You know I sent men out to kill you?”
“Yes,” he whispered, aware of her breath warm on his cheek and neck.
“I did that because I heard that a group of heroes was riding out to avenge a raid. I thought you were coming to kill me.”
“That was never our intention.”
“And then I find a tall, handsome young innocent seeking a woman who does not care for him. This man intrigues me.” Her lips touched his neck, and her right hand moved across his chest, sliding down over the tense muscles of his stomach. His face felt hot, and his breathing was shallow. “And I wondered,” she went on, her voice low and dreamy, “how it was that a man who has never known love could risk so much.” Her hand slid lower.
His fingers clamped to her wrist. “Do not toy with me, lady,” he whispered, turning in toward her. “You know that I find your beauty … irresistible. But I have little … self-worth as it is. Just tell me where Ravenna is and let me leave you.”
For some time she held his gaze, then she pulled back. “How delightfully you turn me away—not with strength but with admitted weakness. You put the decision in my hands. Very well, Kiall. But you do not wish to know where she is. I mean that almost tenderly. I asked you to trust me this morning, and now I ask it again. Leave this quest and return to your home.”
“I cannot, lady.”
“You will die. Your friends will die. And it will be for nothing.”
He lifted her hand and gently kissed the palm. “Then that is as it must be. But tell me.”
She sat up. “The gir
l Ravenna was bought by a man named Kubai. She was sent to a city not far from here and given as a gift to another man. Then she was taken far across the steppes to Ulrickham.”
“I shall go there. And find her.”
“She was given to Jungir Khan.” The words struck Kiall like knife blades, and he closed his eyes, his head bowing. “So you see,” she said tenderly, “there is no point to this quest. Ulrickham is a fortress city. No one could enter the khan’s harem and spirit away one of his brides. And even if you did, where could you go to escape his vengeance? He is the great khan; he has half a million men under his command. Where in all the world could you be safe from him or his shamans?”
Kiall looked at her and smiled. “Still I must make the attempt. And somehow it is worse now not because of Jungir but because of you.”
“I do not understand you.”
He stood and shook his head. “I cannot say it. Forgive me. Do I have your permission to leave?”
For a moment it seemed as if she would speak, but she merely nodded her head. He bowed and walked from the hall.
His thoughts were many as he rode from the town, and a great sadness filled him. He knew now that he did not love Ravenna; she was the dream of an adolescent, the unattainable beauty. But what could he do? He had made his promise. And even if it cost him his life, he would keep it.
He heard the sound of hoofbeats and turned in the saddle.
Harokas cantered alongside him and drew rein. “May I ride with you?” he asked.
Kiall reined in his horse. “I do not desire your company, sir. But if you wish to meet with Chareos, then I will not stop you.”
“Then that must suffice,” said Harokas. Kiall spurred his horse into a run, and the beast was blowing hard by the time they reached the hilltop. Harokas followed at a more sedate pace. Chareos, Beltzer, and Okas were seated in the clearing, but of Maggrig and Finn there was no sign. Kiall dismounted and started to tell Chareos about Ravenna, but the blademaster waved him to silence. “I know,” he said, his gaze fixed on the rider following Kiall.
Harokas slid from the saddle and bowed to Chareos. “I have searched for you for a great length of time,” he said. “I have a message from the earl. You have been cleared of all charges and would be welcome at any time in the city of Talgithir. Captain Salida told the earl of your valiant assistance at Tavern Town.”
“Is that all?” asked Chareos coldly.
“Indeed it is. Now will the bowmen show themselves?”
“I find it hard to believe in the earl as a forgiving man,” said Chareos, “and I am wondering why he should send a warrior in search of me. Could it be that you are an assassin?”
“All things are possible, Chareos,” replied Harokas, smiling.
“I think we should kill him,” said Beltzer. “I don’t like the look of him.”
“And I do not like the look of you, you fat oaf!” snapped Harokas. “Now keep silent before your betters.”
Beltzer pushed himself to his feet and chuckled. “Let me break his back, Chareos. Just say the word.”
Finn emerged from the undergrowth. “Chareos!” he called. “You’d better see this: there’s an army of Nadir warriors moving toward the town. I don’t think they’re here to visit.”
Tanaki watched the young man leave the hall and then rose, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back. Her feelings were mixed as she wandered back into her living area. Kiall’s innocence was both appealing and surprising, like finding a perfect flower growing on the edge of a cesspit. She poured herself a goblet of wine and sipped it. A young man in search of his love, a dreamer. Her eyes narrowed.
“The world has some savage shocks in store for you,” she whispered. A cold breeze rustled the heavy hangings, touching the bare flesh of her legs. She shivered.
“I miss you, Father,” she said, picturing again the tall lean warrior, seeing his slow smile, watching it soften his cruel face. Tanaki had been his favorite despite her birth having been responsible for the death of her mother, Renya. Tenaka Khan had lavished all his love on his only daughter, while his sons had fought for a kind word or even a nod that might be interpreted as praise. She thought of her eldest brother, Jungir. How he had longed to be accepted by his father.
Now that Jungir was the khan and Tanaki’s other brothers had been murdered, she was merely living out her life awaiting the inevitable.
She smiled as she remembered her last meeting with Jungir. He so wanted her dead. But the khan’s generals would never accept the complete obliteration of Tenaka Khan’s bloodline, and as everyone knew, Jungir Khan was sterile. Not one of his forty wives had conceived. Tanaki chuckled. Poor Jungir. He could ride the wildest horse and fight with lance or sword. But in the eyes of the Nadir he was suspect because his seed was not strong.
Tanaki pressed her hands to her belly. She had no doubt that she could conceive. And one day, perhaps, when Jungir grew desperate, she could be back in favor and wedded to one of the generals. The face of Tsudai leapt into her mind, and she recoiled. Not him! Never him. His touch was like the feel of lizard skin, and the memory of his tomb-dark eyes made her shiver. No, not Tsudai.
She pushed him from her mind and thought of Jungir as she had last seen him, sitting on the throne and staring down at her. “You are safe, bitch, for the moment. But know this … one day I will see you humbled. Live for that day, Tanaki.”
So instead of death Tanaki had been banished here, in the desolate wastelands of the south. There were few pleasures to be found in this land, save for the heady joys of alcohol and the succession of young men she took to her bed. Yet even those pleasures soon palled. Bored with her life, she had watched the inefficiency of the slave trade, alternating between glutted markets with the price low and no trade at all. Added to this, there was no central point where slaves could be auctioned and prices could be guaranteed. It had taken Tanaki less than four months to establish the market town, and within a year she had also coordinated all raids into Gothir territory. Prices had stabilized, the new improved market was buoyant, and enormous profits were being made. The gold meant little to Tanaki, who had spent her childhood surrounded by the wealth of conquered nations. But the trade kept her agile mind busy and away from thoughts of Jungir’s revenge.
No matter how great the pressure from the generals, she knew there would come a time when Jungir would feel strong enough to have her killed. So strange, she realized, that she did not hate him for it. It was so easy to understand what drove him. He had yearned for his father’s affection and, failing to win it, had come to hate that which his father loved.
Tanaki pulled aside a velvet curtain and gazed out of a narrow window.
“He left you nothing, Jungir,” she whispered. “He conquered most of the world; he united the tribes; he founded an empire. What is there left for you?”
Poor Jungir. Poor sterile Jungir!
Her thoughts turned to the young man Kiall. His face loomed in her mind, the gray eyes gentle yet with a hint of steel. And there was passion there, too, raw and unmined, volcanic and waiting.
“It would have been pleasant to swallow your innocence.” She smiled, and her expression softened. “No, it would not,” she realized with sadness.
“Princess! Princess!” yelled Chellin, running the length of the hall. “Nadir warriors!”
She stepped out to meet him. “What of it?” she inquired. “There are always Nadir warriors near here.”
“Not the Royal Wolves, Princess,” said Chellin. “And Tsudai is leading them.”
Tanaki felt her mouth go dry. “Is the gate shut?”
“It is, lady. But there are three hundred of them, and we have less than fifty. And most of those will run, given the chance.”
Tanaki moved to a chest of dark oak and lifted the heavy lid. She took out a wide belt from which hung two short swords.
“We cannot fight them, lady. Why are they here?”
She shrugged and did not reply. So, she thought, the day
has come. No more to see the blue of the sky, the eagle riding the wind currents over the mountains. No more men to possess her and, in possessing her, give away their souls. Anger flared. Ignoring Chellin, she walked from the hall and onto the wall, climbing to the ramparts to watch the approach of the khan’s Wolves. As Chellin had said, there were more than three hundred warriors, their pointed silver helms ringed with wolfskin, their silver breastplates edged with gold. They rode seemingly without formation, and yet at a single order they could wheel and charge in a flying wedge or break into three units. Their discipline was incredible. Tehaka Khan had formed the royal guard a quarter of a century before and had trained them to a degree never before experienced among the Nadir. Among the tribesmen it was still regarded as a badge of honor to be accepted into the Wolves. For every hundred applicants, only one was given the helm and the Wolfshead-embossed breastplate.
And there at the center rode Tsudai, a fighting man without equal, a general without peer.
Men gathered around Tanaki. “What shall we do?” asked one.
“Why are they here?” asked another.
“They are here to kill me,” said Tanaki, surprised that her voice remained calm.
“Will they want to kill the rest of us?” asked a burly warrior.
“Shut your damned mouth!” roared Chellin.
Tanaki raised her hands for silence. “Get your horses and leave by the iron gate. Do it swiftly! They will kill all they find here.” Some of the men ran from the ramparts, but Chellin stood firm.
“I’ll not let them take you while I live.”
She smiled and placed her hands on the old warrior’s bearded cheeks. “And you cannot stop them. But it would please me to see you survive, Chellin. Now, go!”
For a moment only he stood, then he cursed and ran for his horse.
The Nadir were closer now, and the face of their general could be clearly seen by Tanaki. Tsudai was smiling. He raised his hands, and riders swept out on either side of him in a skirmish line.
“What do you want here?” Tanaki shouted.
“We want you, whore!” called back Tsudai. “You are to be brought to Ulrickham for trial.”
Tanaki’s anger rose, but she fought for calm. “By what right do you call a daughter of the great khan a whore, you who were suckled by a scabrous goat?”