The Daylight War
Page 165
‘Not now, perhaps,’ Inevera said, ‘but when charged with magic, it will be indestructible.’
Jardir felt a tingle in his crotch at the word. The thought of making more weapons as powerful as his spear was intoxicating. Suddenly winning Sharak Ka seemed within his grasp. ‘Imagine the power my warriors will have …’
Abban cleared his throat, interrupting the thought.
‘A thousand apologies, Deliverer,’ the khaffit said when Jardir looked to him, ‘but do not put the cart before the camel. As Rennick said, there is but a small vein of the stuff.’
‘How small?’ Jardir asked. He gave Abban a hard look. ‘I will know if you lie to me, Abban.’
Abban shrugged. ‘Thirty pounds? Perhaps fifty? Not enough to arm even the Spears of the Deliverer. And, I might add, you might think twice about arming any warrior with such a potent weapon, lest he begin to have delusions of grandeur.’ He smiled. ‘It’s been known to happen.’
Jardir scowled, but Inevera broke in. ‘I agree with the khaffit.’
Jardir looked at her in surprise. ‘Twice in one day? Everam’s wonders never cease.’
‘Do not grow accustomed to it,’ Inevera said drily. ‘But in this case, your weaponsmiths are not the ones best suited to make use of this discovery.’
Jardir looked at her a long time, remembering her words in the pillow chamber.
You will give the dama’ting a powerful gift today.
He nodded. ‘So be it.’
Safe in her Chamber of Shadows, Inevera stared at the lump of electrum in her left hand while slowly rolling her alagai hora in her right. She marvelled as thin tendrils of ambient magic wafted towards the electrum and were absorbed, the way a slight draught might pull at smoke. Even without wards the metal Drew, glowing dully in the wardlight.
Dama’ting frequently made jewellery with demon bone cores, but it was forbidden to coat the dice, for the transfer with other precious metals was imperfect, and had been proven to affect foretelling. She looked at her precious dice, restored at last, and smiled. She was already preparing to carve another set as a safeguard, but now she need never fear exposing them to the sun again.
Already she was pondering other applications. Hora were destroyed when their power was expended, but coated in electrum, they could be recharged, used again and again, as the Spear of Kaji. Abban had not lied when he said this power was too great to be trusted to common soldiers. Even dama’ting would stop at nothing to get more of the metal if they learned its origins. She might gift electrum-coated hora to her most trusted followers, but she would need to prepare it all herself. She looked around the chamber, considering how best to vent a forge so deep underground without sacrificing the security of her private Vault.
At last she breathed deeply, clearing her mind, and put the metal away. She cast her bones once more, hoping to glean a few last clues of the night to come, then left the Chamber of Shadows.
She kept her centre, but the wind was strong. For all the precautions she might take, the secret of the metal was already in the hands of the one she trusted least.
As she felt the Vault door lock behind her, she made a slight gesture, and three eunuch Watchers melted out of the shadows to stand before her. These were Enkido’s finest protégés, men who did not exist, trained to walk unseen even in crowded day, to stand motionless for hours, to climb sheer walls, and to kill quickly and silently. Tongueless, they could not speak, but they knew well how to listen.
Follow the Shar’Dama Ka’s khaffit, Inevera told them with quick gestures of her nimble fingers. Track his every movement, and report to me everyone he speaks with, everywhere he goes. Infiltrate the fortress he is building, and take stock of the secrets within.
The men moved their fingers in perfect unison, like mirror images of one another. We understand, and obey. They bowed, and vanished as Inevera began the long climb back up to the palace proper.
Even after months, Jardir still marvelled at the lightness of his fighting robes as Inevera helped him prepare for the night’s alagai’sharak. No longer thick material housing metal plates, he now wore thin silk that could be quickly cast aside to bring his skin, scarred into fighting and protective wards, to bear. He was now safer naked than in the strongest armour.
‘I will join you tonight as you walk the naked night,’ Inevera said, when the dressing was done.
Jardir looked at her, but the sun had not quite set, and her aura was hidden. ‘I do not think that is wise, beloved. Alagai’sharak is no …’
Inevera hissed, dismissing his words with a wave. ‘You will walk the night with Leesha Paper, but not your Jiwah Ka?’
In his heart, Jardir knew the anger on her face was only a mask. He would bet his crown that she had planned this conversation well in advance, likely with the aid of her dice. But even so, he could not deny the effectiveness of her scowl.
Perhaps it was because she was right.
The look softened immediately, and Inevera pressed in so close he could feel the warmth and softness of her skin through his silk robes. ‘I battled at your side against an alagai prince and his bodyguard,’ she reminded him. ‘What need I fear of common demons when I walk at the side of Shar’Dama Ka?’
‘Even common demons must be respected,’ he said, though he knew she had already won. ‘Forget that for an instant, and even the Damajah can be killed.’ He reached out, sliding his hand under the vaporous silks to caress the smooth skin between her breasts, feeling the beat of her heart. ‘Chosen of Everam or not, we are but flesh and blood.’
Inevera moved into his caress, snaking her own hands into his robes. ‘I will not forget, beloved.’ She traced her fingers over the wards she had cut into his chest. ‘But do not forget that as you have your protections, I have my own.’
Jardir smiled. ‘Of that, I have no doubt.’
They left the palace together, Inevera resting in a palanquin atop a camel and Jardir on his white charger. They were followed by the amazed stares of everyone they passed, but none dared speak a word of protest.
Despite his words, Jardir did not truly fear for his bride. Most of the demons had been cleared from his territory, and the thin remainder served as little more than a training exercise for his men.
Everam’s Bounty was built like the head of a sunflower with the city proper as its centre, spreading out into vast petals of farm and pasture. The central city was Jardir’s personal territory, and tribe neutral. It consisted of an inner walled district surrounded by a much larger outer city. The petals he had given to the tribes according to their size. The Kaji, Majah, and Mehnding controlled huge territories of individually warded farmland and villages. The smaller tribes were given as much land as they could hold, and to spare. Even so, there were chin villages on the outskirts that had yet to fully take the yoke, simply because there were not enough Sharum and dama to minister them.
Many of Jardir’s warriors remained spread over these territories – both a weakness and a strength. Decentralizing his forces weakened them in some ways, but it made it as difficult for the alagai to choose targets as it was for him to guess where they would strike hardest. Each tribe had its own strongholds and was responsible for seeing as many of its people and as much of its produce as possible through the Waning. But all sent Jayan a tithe of their best men to defend the capital.
Jardir felt a tingle in his crotch at the word. The thought of making more weapons as powerful as his spear was intoxicating. Suddenly winning Sharak Ka seemed within his grasp. ‘Imagine the power my warriors will have …’
Abban cleared his throat, interrupting the thought.
‘A thousand apologies, Deliverer,’ the khaffit said when Jardir looked to him, ‘but do not put the cart before the camel. As Rennick said, there is but a small vein of the stuff.’
‘How small?’ Jardir asked. He gave Abban a hard look. ‘I will know if you lie to me, Abban.’
Abban shrugged. ‘Thirty pounds? Perhaps fifty? Not enough to arm even the Spears of the Deliverer. And, I might add, you might think twice about arming any warrior with such a potent weapon, lest he begin to have delusions of grandeur.’ He smiled. ‘It’s been known to happen.’
Jardir scowled, but Inevera broke in. ‘I agree with the khaffit.’
Jardir looked at her in surprise. ‘Twice in one day? Everam’s wonders never cease.’
‘Do not grow accustomed to it,’ Inevera said drily. ‘But in this case, your weaponsmiths are not the ones best suited to make use of this discovery.’
Jardir looked at her a long time, remembering her words in the pillow chamber.
You will give the dama’ting a powerful gift today.
He nodded. ‘So be it.’
Safe in her Chamber of Shadows, Inevera stared at the lump of electrum in her left hand while slowly rolling her alagai hora in her right. She marvelled as thin tendrils of ambient magic wafted towards the electrum and were absorbed, the way a slight draught might pull at smoke. Even without wards the metal Drew, glowing dully in the wardlight.
Dama’ting frequently made jewellery with demon bone cores, but it was forbidden to coat the dice, for the transfer with other precious metals was imperfect, and had been proven to affect foretelling. She looked at her precious dice, restored at last, and smiled. She was already preparing to carve another set as a safeguard, but now she need never fear exposing them to the sun again.
Already she was pondering other applications. Hora were destroyed when their power was expended, but coated in electrum, they could be recharged, used again and again, as the Spear of Kaji. Abban had not lied when he said this power was too great to be trusted to common soldiers. Even dama’ting would stop at nothing to get more of the metal if they learned its origins. She might gift electrum-coated hora to her most trusted followers, but she would need to prepare it all herself. She looked around the chamber, considering how best to vent a forge so deep underground without sacrificing the security of her private Vault.
At last she breathed deeply, clearing her mind, and put the metal away. She cast her bones once more, hoping to glean a few last clues of the night to come, then left the Chamber of Shadows.
She kept her centre, but the wind was strong. For all the precautions she might take, the secret of the metal was already in the hands of the one she trusted least.
As she felt the Vault door lock behind her, she made a slight gesture, and three eunuch Watchers melted out of the shadows to stand before her. These were Enkido’s finest protégés, men who did not exist, trained to walk unseen even in crowded day, to stand motionless for hours, to climb sheer walls, and to kill quickly and silently. Tongueless, they could not speak, but they knew well how to listen.
Follow the Shar’Dama Ka’s khaffit, Inevera told them with quick gestures of her nimble fingers. Track his every movement, and report to me everyone he speaks with, everywhere he goes. Infiltrate the fortress he is building, and take stock of the secrets within.
The men moved their fingers in perfect unison, like mirror images of one another. We understand, and obey. They bowed, and vanished as Inevera began the long climb back up to the palace proper.
Even after months, Jardir still marvelled at the lightness of his fighting robes as Inevera helped him prepare for the night’s alagai’sharak. No longer thick material housing metal plates, he now wore thin silk that could be quickly cast aside to bring his skin, scarred into fighting and protective wards, to bear. He was now safer naked than in the strongest armour.
‘I will join you tonight as you walk the naked night,’ Inevera said, when the dressing was done.
Jardir looked at her, but the sun had not quite set, and her aura was hidden. ‘I do not think that is wise, beloved. Alagai’sharak is no …’
Inevera hissed, dismissing his words with a wave. ‘You will walk the night with Leesha Paper, but not your Jiwah Ka?’
In his heart, Jardir knew the anger on her face was only a mask. He would bet his crown that she had planned this conversation well in advance, likely with the aid of her dice. But even so, he could not deny the effectiveness of her scowl.
Perhaps it was because she was right.
The look softened immediately, and Inevera pressed in so close he could feel the warmth and softness of her skin through his silk robes. ‘I battled at your side against an alagai prince and his bodyguard,’ she reminded him. ‘What need I fear of common demons when I walk at the side of Shar’Dama Ka?’
‘Even common demons must be respected,’ he said, though he knew she had already won. ‘Forget that for an instant, and even the Damajah can be killed.’ He reached out, sliding his hand under the vaporous silks to caress the smooth skin between her breasts, feeling the beat of her heart. ‘Chosen of Everam or not, we are but flesh and blood.’
Inevera moved into his caress, snaking her own hands into his robes. ‘I will not forget, beloved.’ She traced her fingers over the wards she had cut into his chest. ‘But do not forget that as you have your protections, I have my own.’
Jardir smiled. ‘Of that, I have no doubt.’
They left the palace together, Inevera resting in a palanquin atop a camel and Jardir on his white charger. They were followed by the amazed stares of everyone they passed, but none dared speak a word of protest.
Despite his words, Jardir did not truly fear for his bride. Most of the demons had been cleared from his territory, and the thin remainder served as little more than a training exercise for his men.
Everam’s Bounty was built like the head of a sunflower with the city proper as its centre, spreading out into vast petals of farm and pasture. The central city was Jardir’s personal territory, and tribe neutral. It consisted of an inner walled district surrounded by a much larger outer city. The petals he had given to the tribes according to their size. The Kaji, Majah, and Mehnding controlled huge territories of individually warded farmland and villages. The smaller tribes were given as much land as they could hold, and to spare. Even so, there were chin villages on the outskirts that had yet to fully take the yoke, simply because there were not enough Sharum and dama to minister them.
Many of Jardir’s warriors remained spread over these territories – both a weakness and a strength. Decentralizing his forces weakened them in some ways, but it made it as difficult for the alagai to choose targets as it was for him to guess where they would strike hardest. Each tribe had its own strongholds and was responsible for seeing as many of its people and as much of its produce as possible through the Waning. But all sent Jayan a tithe of their best men to defend the capital.
