Pyrebound - 13.2

Chapter 13.2 – Pyrebound
Ram was unarmed—deliberately so—and outnumbered, four to one. He didn’t offer even a show of resistance when they took him by the neck again, and hauled him off down the dark passage, round a corner, and through any number of twists and turns to a little chamber bored from the rock of the mountain, lit only by a small window. Almost all its floor space was taken up by bedrolls; it was the kind of place that might be rented out very cheaply, or let for free to any squatters who could find no better lodging. The Misishin would have no cause to care where their miners happened to sleep, provided they were out of the way. It smelled like dust and used linens, the stink of too many people crammed into one place for too long.

One person was in the room already, sitting in the far corner where even the stingy evening glow from the window couldn’t reach. The figure stirred, but said nothing as Ram’s assailants threw him onto the floor. All four of the men drew swords. “Where is the Ensi, Rammash?”

He took a moment to get his wind back, and shake the stars out of his vision. “Dul Atellu. About a hundred miles away from here, I’d say. Maybe two.” He looked up into a pair of familiar deep-set eyes, shining with reflected pyrelight. “And perfectly safe from you, Piridur.”

“Is he.” Piridur looked at the cheap iron blade in his hand, then back at Ram. “Do you know what a perforated intestine feels like, Ram? It’s very painful, but takes a long time to kill. I could stab you in the gut right now, and let you languish for a full day. Then get a handmaiden to apply heat, heal you back to full strength, and stab you again. There are handmaidens here who would take the job, cheaply and confidentially. I could continue the process as long as I liked.”

Ram refused to look away. “What, did you lose your bullspikes?”

“We’ve had to travel light.”

“Darun knows what I’m doing, and she’s got connections here. If I’m not back by dark she’ll come looking. You might hurt me a while, but you won’t get days of it, you can’t get me out of this pyre alive, and you’ll die like a dog in the end.”

“You don’t need to worry for me, Ram,” Piridur said, and drove his sword right into Ram’s stomach. He was right—it hurt worse than anything Ram had felt before. There was no question of holding back a scream; Piridur held the blade in until Ram was out of breath to howl with, then tugged it loose again. “Is there any reason I would want to take you out of this pyre alive? Or keep you alive at all?”

The spirit did what it could, but it was some time before Ram felt could form a coherent answer. “If I die … so does … your pyre.”

“Really. How?” Piridur asked, and smacked Ram across the face with the bloody flat.

“Atellu’s gone rogue,” Ram snarled. “Its crazy ensi runs the whole thing now. Took over just last night, and Shimrun’s his guest of honor. Say you kill me. How are you going to get Shimrun out? He’ll never trust you, and you’ll never remove him by force.”

Piridur raised the sword to slap Ram again—and hesitated. “Don’t trust the bastard,” one of his men said. “He’s lied before, and he’s lying now.”

“I haven’t told you any lie that I can remember.” His stomach was whole again, more or less, but his heart still hammered furiously at his ribs, and his haranu was demanding that he rise up and fight against four armed men. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth, because I didn’t trust you. And I was right. So, what now? You ready to kill me, and let Karagi die?”

“From what I hear, you’ve killed it already.”

“Hardly. I smashed a few buildings, and I did all I could to scare all the people out first. Dul Karagi’s more than the palace and the nicer houses.“

“What are you here for, Ram?” Imbri said from her corner, breaking her silence at last. “I don’t think you’re quite stupid enough to be caught like this by accident.”

“For you, Imbri. I came out hoping to find you.”

“All right. You found me. Now what?”

“I need to you to take me to the bazuu. I know they’re close.”

“They sure are. What do you think they’ll do for you? They don’t know anything about how human magic works.”

“No, but they know how magic works in general. Better than anybody. They have to know things we don’t. It’s worth a shot.”

“I don’t know what kind of ruse you’re going for,” Piridur said, “But it’s idiotic. If the bazuu knew a way to sabotage the pyre cycle, they’d do it themselves. And if you’re suggesting we could find such a trick by simply walking up and asking them, that doesn’t seem likely either. Don’t you think someone would have done as much before now?”

“What if they haven’t because they couldn’t? Most of the time the bazuu only talk to moonchildren, and moonchildren don’t give a damn what happens to us. Imbri’s different.”

“I have relationships with a few specific rookeries, where the Damadzus used to do business. The rest of them don’t have anything to do with me.”

“I bet they will, though, if you ask. You have to know the bazuu better than anyone else alive. You grew up in a rookery, didn’t you?”

Everyone but Bal turned to look at Imbri. “What on earth is he talking about?” Piridur said. Imbri didn’t answer. “One asinine story after another. Human beings can’t live in rookeries. Not even moonchildren.”

“I’m pretty sure she did. Don’t you remember the gate? Her section of … that whole dream place it makes up. Everyone else got nice childhood memories. Her part was totally black and empty. Exactly the same as the rookery I visited with Bal and Ushna. And my haranu hated it worse than any other part of the dream.”

“I’m blind. I’ve been blind my whole life. I don’t have any visual memories of childhood for the gate to build on.”

“Visual memories, sure. What about the rest of it? You aren’t deaf, and I’m sure you can smell and taste things. If anything, I’d expect you to have sharper memories of how home sounded. The rest of the world in the gate had every last detail right except the people and the spirits. Why was yours totally blank and empty? You should at least have remembered singing birds, or the wind, or something.”

Piridur looked at Imbri again—but neither of them said anything this time. Ram went on: “Moonchildren don’t like half-breeds. The ones we met outside the gate obviously loathed you. They wouldn’t have let you live with them as a child. You said your mother raised you, and Darun said Ushna bought you, but nobody wants a blind, underage, half-breed girl for service, or a moonchild woman who has to care for one. So you wouldn’t have been raised in a pyre or hearth, either. Ordinary hearthless hate moonchildren worse than anyone else. Was your mom wandering around Ki with just you for blooms and blooms? Where did you really—“

“Oh, shut up, will you? Fine. I had a weird childhood. And it’s none of your damn business.”

“And beside the present point,” Piridur added. “This is a diversion, Ram, plain and simple. And I don’t care to be diverted. Tell me what all this is about Dul Atellu. Now.”

Ram obeyed, and told his story as honestly and completely as he thought prudent. He skimmed tactfully over the attack on Dul Karagi, and Piridur didn’t call him on it. When Ram was done, he said, “So, having devastated one pyre, and delivered another into the hands of a madman, you want to go off on a trip?”

Ram wouldn’t quibble. “Into bazu territory. Yes. What do you think I should do instead?”

“Go back to Dul Atellu as soon as possible, get close to this Mannagiri, and kill him.”

“Even though all of his handlers just tried and failed?”

“That doesn’t matter. If he’s as unstable as you claim, taking him out is the top priority. If you have to risk your own life to do it—”

“He’ll kill me, and probably Shimrun, which means, from what you told me, that the pyre will pick a new ensi at random at the next bloom. What do you want to bet, after everything that’s happened at Dul Karagi, that whoever gets picked won’t be wind up acting like another Mannagiri?”

“Even so. If you succeed in destroying the rogue, you’ll save thousands of lives.” Ram took it as a positive sign that Piridur was entertaining the notion of letting him go.

“And if he has an en? I didn’t see anyone else indwelt, but it’s not like I searched his whole temple.”

“Very true. You could still go back and learn more about what he’s doing. See if he has an en. That would be more useful than rushing off to talk with bazuu.”

“No, I don’t think it would,” Imbri said.

“Assuming Ram is telling the truth, he’s already got a bunch of people there watching this maniac. Don’t you?”

“Yep. Shimrun, plus two of his handmaidens. Mannagiri would be more likely to tell Shimrun secrets than me anyway. Ens don’t matter.”

“So there you are. Ram’s got a man on the inside. He can visit him any time for information, or to ask him to find something out for us.”

He hadn’t thought of that angle, but it gave him an idea. “Actually, we might be able to talk from a distance. I’ll have to talk things over with Rinti or Mana.” Who probably wouldn’t be wild about the idea, but if it made Zasha more willing to keep them—as vital intelligence assets, rather than stray children in need of minding—they might be persuaded.

“Even better. Which means Ram is perfectly free to get information elsewhere.”

Piridur turned to look out the window, where waning hearthlight still lit the terraced fields across the reservoir. A plume of steam rose out of the water with a hiss; the handmaidens were misting the fields. “I somehow feel like I’m being played here.”

“You have to know I couldn’t have arranged this in advance. This isn’t a bad idea; I’ve never been in a position where I could get away with asking a bazu that kind of question. They won’t tolerate humans prying in places that don’t concern them. If I’ve got an indwelt man, an en, with me, that’s different. He’ll give me some standing. Depending how I played it, I might be able to learn a lot. I’m willing to try.”

“And what if he’s lying about this Dul Atellu situation?”

“You’ll know the truth of that in a couple of days,” Ram said. “I gave you an early tip. And if you come with me now, I can probably help you get the word out that much faster.”

“I don’t think so. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

“Okay.” He sat up at last, rubbing at his stomach. “I hope you’ve got another bedroll. Where’s Shazru at, Imbri?”

“He set up a little practice stitching up hurt miners. He was our ticket in here; they’re hard up enough for medical help here that they didn’t object when he called all five of us his assistants. How’s Darun?”

“Not great. Hopefully we can arrange to have Shazru go take a look at her some—“

“That’s enough,” Piridur broke in. “You’ve made your point. No, I don’t suppose I’m ready to kill you just yet. I can’t take the chance that you’re telling the truth. But I’m also not letting you out of my sight again, after what you’ve done. You’ll be staying in this room, and we’ll communicate by messengers until all this is sorted out. Then we can talk about your travel plans.”

“Sure. I get it.” This was about as good as he’d expected to get, and tomorrow was white day, when travel was impossible. He could afford to entertain Piridur’s paranoia for a bit. Let him send messengers, make demands, set conditions, for as long as he liked. Ram would win in the end, because whoever held the sword, he had all the power here.

He was more concerned with Imbri. She’d taken his side in the end. That, too, was reassuring, even if he knew not to count on it. Imbri would be there beside him for exactly as long as she detected an advantage for herself, a way to build a new life from the wreckage he’d left her. Whatever she was after now, he didn’t think she’d be shy about telling him. And he would give it to her, if he could. After everything he’d put her through, she’d earned it.