Peter Brett - The Daylight War

‘You honour me, Dama’ting,’ the Par’chin said when she bent to fill his cup. His Krasian was flawless, his manners impeccable. His smile was without guile. Either he was a master thief, every expression sheer artistry, or he did not realize what her people did to grave robbers.

‘The honour is ours, Par’chin,’ she said. ‘You are the only Northerner ever to add your spear to ours.’ And to dare look us in the eye as you attempt to steal from us , she added silently.

She looked back to the spear. She longed to examine it properly, but dama’ting were expressly forbidden to touch weapons. A great irony, as this spear had unquestionably been made by one.

That it was a genuine Sunian artefact with a demon bone core was already beyond doubt. Regardless of its origin, the spear would bite the alagai like no weapon in millennia. But in the time of the Shar’Dama Ka there had been many such weapons, carried by the sons and lieutenants of Kaji. Was this one of those, or was it truly the Spear of Kaji, made from the sacred metal by the Damajah herself? There was one way to be sure.

It took only the slightest flick of her arm to hook the flowing white silk of her sleeve on the point of the spear. It came up with her as she straightened, then tore the cloth.

Inevera gasped and pretended to stumble, spilling the tea. Around the low table, kneeling Sharum averted their gazes that they not witness her embarrassment, but the Par’chin was quick, catching the teapot with one hand and steadying her with the other.

‘Thank you, Par’chin.’ Inevera looked to where the spear had rolled on the floor, seeing what she had hoped. Along its length was a thin, almost imperceptible seam. Without her wardsight, it might have been invisible.

The seam where the Damajah had rolled the thin sheet of sacred metal about the core.

The Par’chin had brought back the Spear of Kaji.

‘Tonight is the night,’ Inevera said, pacing in excitement. She had known the Par’chin would find power, but this was beyond her wildest dreams. ‘Long have I foreseen this. Kill him and take the spear. At dawn, you will declare yourself Shar’Dama Ka, and a month from now you will rule all Krasia.’

She was already plotting his ascent. The Andrah would move to have him stopped or killed, but the Sharum were already more loyal to Jardir. If the warriors witnessed Ahmann killing alagai on the Maze floor, they would flock to him in droves, starting with those most beholden to him.

‘No,’ Ahmann said.

It took a moment for the word to register. ‘The Krevakh and the Sharach will declare for you immediately, but the Kaji and Majah will take a hard line against … Eh?’ She turned back to face him. ‘The prophecy …’

‘The prophecy be damned,’ Ahmann said. ‘I will not murder my friend, no matter what the demon bones tell you. I will not rob him. I am the Sharum Ka, not a thief in the night.’

Inevera’s flash of anger was more than even she could bend against. She slapped him, the retort echoing off the stone walls. ‘A fool is what you are! Now is the moment of divergence, when what might be becomes what will . By dawn, one of you will be declared Deliverer. It is up to you to decide if it will be the Sharum Ka of the Desert Spear, or a grave-robbing chin from the North.’

‘I tire of your prophecies and divergences,’ Ahmann said, ‘you and all the dama’ting ! All just guesses meant to manipulate men to your will. But I will not betray my friend for you, no matter what you pretend to see in those warded lumps of alagai shit!’

Inevera felt as if everything she had built for over twenty years was crashing down around her. Had she come so far only to fail because her fool husband had not the spine to kill a man who had defiled the grave of Kaji? She shrieked and raised her hand to strike him again, but Ahmann caught her wrist and lifted it high. She struggled for a moment, but he was stronger than her by far.

‘Do not force me to hurt you,’ he warned.

Now he dared threaten her? The words brought Inevera back to herself. A lifetime of training with Enkido had taught her strength could be taken with a touch. She twisted, driving stiffened fingers to break the line of energy in his shoulder. The arm holding her went limp and she twisted out of his grasp, slipping back a step to straighten her robes as she breathed back to centre.

‘You keep thinking the dama’ting defenceless, my husband, though you of all people should know better.’ She took his numb hand in hers, twisting the arm out straight as she pressed her other thumb into the pressure point in his shoulder, restoring the line of energy.

‘You are no thief if you are only reclaiming what is already yours by right.’

‘Mine?’ Ahmann asked.

‘Who is the thief?’ Inevera asked. ‘The chin who robs the grave of Kaji, or you, his blood kin, who takes back what was stolen?’

‘We do not know it is the Spear of Kaji he holds,’ Ahmann said.

Inevera crossed her arms. ‘You know. You knew the moment you laid eyes on it, just as you’ve known all along that this day would come. I never hid this fate from you.’

Ahmann said nothing, and Inevera knew she was reaching him. She touched his arm. ‘If you prefer, I can put a potion in his tea. His passing will be quick.’

‘No!’ Ahmann shouted, pulling away. ‘Always the path of least honour with you! The Par’chin is no khaffit , to be put down like a dog! He deserves a warrior’s death.’

I have him , Inevera thought. ‘Then give him one. Now, before alagai’sharak begins and the power of the spear is known.’

But Ahmann shook his head, and she knew he would not be swayed. ‘If it is to be done, I will do it in the Maze.’

The next morning, Ahmann returned to the Palace of the Sharum Ka triumphant, the Spear of Kaji held high for all to see. Sharum cheered and dama looked on — some in religious fervour, others in terror. Their world was about to change forever, and any with half a mind knew it.

But though he looked every inch the proud, fearless leader, his eyes were haunted. He was surrounded by a crowd of lieutenants and sycophants, but Inevera knew it was imperative she speak to him alone immediately. She gestured, sending her little sisters. No man would impede a dama’ting , and the eleven Jiwah Sen quickly formed an impenetrable ring around Ahmann, cutting him off from the others and guiding him to a private chamber where they might speak freely.

‘What happened?’ she demanded. ‘Is the Par’chin-’

‘Gone,’ Ahmann cut her off. ‘I put the spear between his eyes and left his body out on the dunes, far from the city walls.’

‘Thank Everam,’ Inevera exhaled, unclenching muscles she hadn’t even realized were held tight. Even the dice had not been able to say with certainty that he would murder his friend.

And it was murder, despite the honeyed words she’d used to make bitter betrayal easier to swallow. The greenlander was a godless grave robber, but he had not been raised to Everam’s truths, and she would have robbed the grave of Kaji herself had she known where it lay and what it contained. Already she counselled Ahmann to return there as soon as possible.

She reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘I am sorry for your loss, husband. He was an honourable man.’

Ahmann pulled his shoulder roughly from her grasp. ‘What would you know of honour?’

He stormed away from her, going into the small shrine to Everam where he said his private prayers. Inevera did not attempt to follow, but she turned her earring, breathing deeply as she listened to her husband weep.