The Daylight War
Page 163
It was clear from her aura that this was her opinion and not that of the dice, but it was sound advice. Leesha loved him, he did not doubt, and was fated to marry him and bring him her tribe, but it would not happen without confronting this false Deliverer and throwing him down.
He nodded. ‘Is there anything else?’
Irritation skittered along Inevera’s aura, never touching her face or bearing. Her eyes drifted along the dozens of facing symbols, all glowing with varying degrees of brightness, following paths of meaning. He recognized some symbols, but their meaning had ever been beyond him. Sometimes he thought to command the dama’ting teach him to read the dice, but knew they would baulk, and Inevera find a way to prevent it. Even the Evejah said it was a woman’s art.
Finally, Inevera spoke. ‘You must lead your armies if they are to achieve victory in the Daylight War, but do not leave the Skull Throne vacant too long. You have fifty-two sons, and they will all eye it hungrily.’
Jardir frowned. Jayan and Asome coveted the throne, he knew. Perhaps making the boy Andrah was best after all. ‘Are any of my sons worthy to sit it in my absence, and willing to stand back up upon my return?’
Inevera cut her own hand, dripping her own blood on the dice in addition to Jardir’s as she cast again. She studied the pattern for only a moment before looking up. ‘No.’
‘No?’ Jardir asked. ‘Just “no”?’
Inevera shrugged. ‘It is not as I would have it, either, husband, but the dice are clear. I have cast the dice for thousands of men, and never found another with your potential.’
There. It was clear in her aura, shining like a beacon through her mask of dama’ting serenity.
She was lying. There was another.
Anger filled him. Who was this man, or boy? Why was she protecting him? Did she mean to supplant him if he should prove too difficult to control?
He embraced the feeling as quickly as it came, showing no sign. He was not a manipulator like Inevera or Abban, dissembling with half-truths, omissions, and leading statements, but he was learning to keep his thoughts to himself, giving them no thread to spin, much as he denied opponents energy to turn against him in sharusahk. He set aside the concern for later. For now, he had more pressing questions.
‘How can I throw back my enemies in the coming Waning?’ he asked.
Again Inevera wet the dice with his blood and cast the bones to the floor. She saw something that made her aura become one of sharp concentration, crawling on her knees to study the pattern from all sides. Her gossamer clothing pulled tight, presenting her much as she was in lovemaking, but her growing aura of fear drove such thoughts from his mind. She was seeing something she did not wish to tell him, and was searching for a way out of it. He wanted to shout at her, to demand what she was seeing, but forced himself to remain calm.
At last she looked at him. ‘The Deliverer must go into the night alone to hunt the centre of the web, or all will be lost when Alagai Ka and his princelings come. But even if you survive, there will be a heavy price.’
He looked at her, seeing the fear in her aura reach out and clutch at him. She did not want him to risk himself. Was it born of love, or was her replacement simply not ready? There was no way to know. He hated himself for considering the latter, but she had already deceived him more than once.
‘Princelings?’ he asked instead. ‘How many? What web?’
‘Seven will rise, one for each layer of Nie’s abyss,’ Inevera said, ‘but only three will strike at Everam’s Bounty.’
‘“Only”, you say.’ Jardir shook his head. ‘Everam’s beard. One nearly proved our undoing.’
‘You were not prepared then,’ Inevera said.
‘It infiltrated the palace, Inevera,’ Jardir said. ‘Slipped past the work of our finest Warders like it was nothing.’
‘We have added protections since,’ Inevera said. ‘The alagai princes will not penetrate our warding so easily now, and I will cast the dice to find the weakest points of our net and bolster them.’
Jardir nodded. ‘And this web?’
Inevera shrugged. ‘Of that, I can tell you nothing.’
‘No attempts to dissuade me from this course?’ he asked.
His Jiwah Ka shook her head sadly. ‘It is inevera. Sharak Ka is yours to win, husband.’
Or lose. Inevera did not speak the words, but they were clear in her aura. His success was by no means assured.
‘Where will the demons strike hardest?’ Jardir asked, his most pressing question. ‘Where should I position my forces?’
Inevera cast again, staring for a long time at the result. At last, she sighed. ‘I do not know. There are too many variables. I will try again in the coming days.’
‘Every day,’ Jardir said. ‘A hundred times if you must. Nothing is more important.’
Inevera bowed slightly, lifting the dice one last time. ‘We will cast now for the coming day.’
Jardir nodded. This was a practice they had done nightly for almost twenty years. Some days, the dice told him nothing – at least, nothing Inevera chose to share – but others they warned of hidden knives and poison, or when to be ready to seize an advantage.
Inevera tipped the last of his blood onto the dice and shook as she said the words Jardir had heard countless times. ‘Everam, giver of light and life, I beseech you, give this lowly servant knowledge of what is to come. Tell me of Ahmann, son of Hoshkamin, last scion of the line of Jardir, the seventh son of Kaji.’
She threw, and the dice scattered wide, symbols pulsing in patterns he could not hope to comprehend.
‘You will give the dama’ting a powerful gift today,’ Inevera said.
‘Kind of me,’ Jardir noted. He saw no deception in his wife, but that did not mean his gift would be a willing one, rather than something duped from him.
Inevera gave no indication she had heard him. ‘You will gain warriors tonight, but lose others on the morrow.’
‘Gain at night?’ Jardir asked. ‘Lose during the day? How is this possible?’
‘I do not know,’ Inevera said, but Jardir could see in her aura that her words were only half true, and had to suppress a flash of anger. What secrets was she hiding? How was he to lead their people to victory when his own wife kept secrets about his warriors?
As they had frequently in recent weeks, his thoughts turned to Leesha Paper. The woman could be vexing in her own ways, but he did not believe she had ever lied to him. He wished she was here by his side, not this … tunnel asp.
‘Not long after sunrise tomorrow, an unexpected Messenger will bring you ill tidings,’ Inevera went on.
‘That happens every day,’ Jardir said, hardly caring any more.
Inevera shook her head. ‘This one has passed through death to see his missive delivered.’
That got Jardir’s attention, and he looked up at her as she squinted at the dice. ‘His message will bring you pain.’
He saw no deception in her, but as she spoke the words, her aura pulsed. There was nothing in her expression, no outward sign, but to his eyes it was plain as day.
Empathy. Without even knowing the cause, her heart had cried out for him, when she realized he would be hurt. His pain was her pain.
He reached out to her, his anger gone, and gently touched her face. She looked at him, and her aura had never shone so bright.
He nodded. ‘Is there anything else?’
Irritation skittered along Inevera’s aura, never touching her face or bearing. Her eyes drifted along the dozens of facing symbols, all glowing with varying degrees of brightness, following paths of meaning. He recognized some symbols, but their meaning had ever been beyond him. Sometimes he thought to command the dama’ting teach him to read the dice, but knew they would baulk, and Inevera find a way to prevent it. Even the Evejah said it was a woman’s art.
Finally, Inevera spoke. ‘You must lead your armies if they are to achieve victory in the Daylight War, but do not leave the Skull Throne vacant too long. You have fifty-two sons, and they will all eye it hungrily.’
Jardir frowned. Jayan and Asome coveted the throne, he knew. Perhaps making the boy Andrah was best after all. ‘Are any of my sons worthy to sit it in my absence, and willing to stand back up upon my return?’
Inevera cut her own hand, dripping her own blood on the dice in addition to Jardir’s as she cast again. She studied the pattern for only a moment before looking up. ‘No.’
‘No?’ Jardir asked. ‘Just “no”?’
Inevera shrugged. ‘It is not as I would have it, either, husband, but the dice are clear. I have cast the dice for thousands of men, and never found another with your potential.’
There. It was clear in her aura, shining like a beacon through her mask of dama’ting serenity.
She was lying. There was another.
Anger filled him. Who was this man, or boy? Why was she protecting him? Did she mean to supplant him if he should prove too difficult to control?
He embraced the feeling as quickly as it came, showing no sign. He was not a manipulator like Inevera or Abban, dissembling with half-truths, omissions, and leading statements, but he was learning to keep his thoughts to himself, giving them no thread to spin, much as he denied opponents energy to turn against him in sharusahk. He set aside the concern for later. For now, he had more pressing questions.
‘How can I throw back my enemies in the coming Waning?’ he asked.
Again Inevera wet the dice with his blood and cast the bones to the floor. She saw something that made her aura become one of sharp concentration, crawling on her knees to study the pattern from all sides. Her gossamer clothing pulled tight, presenting her much as she was in lovemaking, but her growing aura of fear drove such thoughts from his mind. She was seeing something she did not wish to tell him, and was searching for a way out of it. He wanted to shout at her, to demand what she was seeing, but forced himself to remain calm.
At last she looked at him. ‘The Deliverer must go into the night alone to hunt the centre of the web, or all will be lost when Alagai Ka and his princelings come. But even if you survive, there will be a heavy price.’
He looked at her, seeing the fear in her aura reach out and clutch at him. She did not want him to risk himself. Was it born of love, or was her replacement simply not ready? There was no way to know. He hated himself for considering the latter, but she had already deceived him more than once.
‘Princelings?’ he asked instead. ‘How many? What web?’
‘Seven will rise, one for each layer of Nie’s abyss,’ Inevera said, ‘but only three will strike at Everam’s Bounty.’
‘“Only”, you say.’ Jardir shook his head. ‘Everam’s beard. One nearly proved our undoing.’
‘You were not prepared then,’ Inevera said.
‘It infiltrated the palace, Inevera,’ Jardir said. ‘Slipped past the work of our finest Warders like it was nothing.’
‘We have added protections since,’ Inevera said. ‘The alagai princes will not penetrate our warding so easily now, and I will cast the dice to find the weakest points of our net and bolster them.’
Jardir nodded. ‘And this web?’
Inevera shrugged. ‘Of that, I can tell you nothing.’
‘No attempts to dissuade me from this course?’ he asked.
His Jiwah Ka shook her head sadly. ‘It is inevera. Sharak Ka is yours to win, husband.’
Or lose. Inevera did not speak the words, but they were clear in her aura. His success was by no means assured.
‘Where will the demons strike hardest?’ Jardir asked, his most pressing question. ‘Where should I position my forces?’
Inevera cast again, staring for a long time at the result. At last, she sighed. ‘I do not know. There are too many variables. I will try again in the coming days.’
‘Every day,’ Jardir said. ‘A hundred times if you must. Nothing is more important.’
Inevera bowed slightly, lifting the dice one last time. ‘We will cast now for the coming day.’
Jardir nodded. This was a practice they had done nightly for almost twenty years. Some days, the dice told him nothing – at least, nothing Inevera chose to share – but others they warned of hidden knives and poison, or when to be ready to seize an advantage.
Inevera tipped the last of his blood onto the dice and shook as she said the words Jardir had heard countless times. ‘Everam, giver of light and life, I beseech you, give this lowly servant knowledge of what is to come. Tell me of Ahmann, son of Hoshkamin, last scion of the line of Jardir, the seventh son of Kaji.’
She threw, and the dice scattered wide, symbols pulsing in patterns he could not hope to comprehend.
‘You will give the dama’ting a powerful gift today,’ Inevera said.
‘Kind of me,’ Jardir noted. He saw no deception in his wife, but that did not mean his gift would be a willing one, rather than something duped from him.
Inevera gave no indication she had heard him. ‘You will gain warriors tonight, but lose others on the morrow.’
‘Gain at night?’ Jardir asked. ‘Lose during the day? How is this possible?’
‘I do not know,’ Inevera said, but Jardir could see in her aura that her words were only half true, and had to suppress a flash of anger. What secrets was she hiding? How was he to lead their people to victory when his own wife kept secrets about his warriors?
As they had frequently in recent weeks, his thoughts turned to Leesha Paper. The woman could be vexing in her own ways, but he did not believe she had ever lied to him. He wished she was here by his side, not this … tunnel asp.
‘Not long after sunrise tomorrow, an unexpected Messenger will bring you ill tidings,’ Inevera went on.
‘That happens every day,’ Jardir said, hardly caring any more.
Inevera shook her head. ‘This one has passed through death to see his missive delivered.’
That got Jardir’s attention, and he looked up at her as she squinted at the dice. ‘His message will bring you pain.’
He saw no deception in her, but as she spoke the words, her aura pulsed. There was nothing in her expression, no outward sign, but to his eyes it was plain as day.
Empathy. Without even knowing the cause, her heart had cried out for him, when she realized he would be hurt. His pain was her pain.
He reached out to her, his anger gone, and gently touched her face. She looked at him, and her aura had never shone so bright.
