Peter Brett - The Daylight War

‘I am your Jiwah Ka , Ahmann,’ Inevera said. ‘This is my place.’

Ahmann nodded, not relaxing at all. ‘It is also your place to facilitate my acquisition of new brides. Yet you made no effort to come to a term with Leesha Paper, despite her obvious value.’

‘I serve Everam and Sharak Ka before you, husband,’ Inevera replied. ‘As should you before me. Whether you choose to see it or not, half your Damaji would have been enraged had you named Leesha Paper your Jiwah Ka of the North.’

‘Let them rage,’ Ahmann said. ‘I am Shar’Dama Ka. I do not need their love, only their loyalty.’

‘You might be Shar’Dama Ka.’ Inevera made the word a lash. ‘Or you might be only what I have made of you. And yet you would halve my power as casually as you tear a loaf of bread, all for a woman you know nothing of. The dice told me to seize you every advantage, but I cannot do that for a fool who pisses on those who would die for him and showers his enemies with gold.’

‘It would never have come to that, had you not refused to take her as Jiwah Sen ,’ Ahmann said. ‘Where was the wisdom in that? I came home with a woman to honourably marry, one who could bring thousands of warriors to Sharak Ka and wards spells even you cannot. Abban had already negotiated the dower with her mother, and it was a pittance. Some lands, some gold, a meaningless Northern title, and recognition of her tribe. Yet you dismissed it out of hand. Why? Do you fear her?’

‘I fear what the witch has done to your mind,’ Inevera said. ‘You value her far beyond her worth. She should have been carried off like a well prize, arriving slung over your saddle, not brought to court and given a palace.’

‘The Damajah of old feared no woman,’ Ahmann said. ‘The true Damajah would have dominated her. So tell me, did the dice tell you that you were the Damajah, or that you might be?’

Inevera felt as if he had slapped her. She breathed to remain calm.

‘You did not see her people, or spend weeks with her on the road,’ Ahmann said. ‘The Northerners are strong, Inevera. If the cost of securing their alliance is that there be a single woman in all the world who need not bow to you, is that too high a price?’

‘Is it for you?’ Inevera asked. ‘The Painted Man, the one the Northerners call Deliverer, is the key to Sharak Sun, Ahmann. Even a blind fool can see it! And your precious Leesha Paper is protecting him, keeping him safe to put a spear in your back.’

Ahmann’s face darkened and Inevera feared she had pushed him too far, but he did not lash at her. ‘I am not such a fool. We have agents in the Hollow now. If this Painted Man appears I will hear of it, and kill him if he does not bow to me.’

‘And I will bring you the daughter of Erny, or proof of her disloyalty to Everam,’ Inevera promised. She rose from the pillows, rolling her hips and turning so the candles behind her made the vaporous silks she wore seem to disappear, revealing her every curve. The incense was heavy in the air as she came to him, and Ahmann held his breath as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘I believe that you are the Deliverer, beloved,’ she said. ‘I believe with all my heart that Ahmann Jardir is the man to lead our people to victory in Sharak Ka.’ She lifted her veil boldly and kissed him. ‘But you must have every advantage if you are to defeat Nie on Ala. We must stay unified.’

‘ Unity is worth any price in blood ,’ Ahmann said, a quote from the Evejah. He kissed her in return, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She felt his tension, and knew where it was building. In an instant she had him out of his robes, leading him to the bath. As he stepped down to soak in the hot water, Inevera slipped her fingers into the cymbals hanging from her belt and began to dance in the smoke and candlelight, twirling in her diaphanous silk.

‘I mean to attack Lakton in less than three months,’ Ahmann said quietly, as they lay together. He held her close, his muscular body nude save for his crown, which he seldom removed now, and never at night. Inevera wore only her jewellery. ‘Thirty days after equinox, the day the greenlanders call first snow.’

‘Why that date?’ she asked. ‘Have the Damaji ascribed some significance to it in their star charts?’ She did little to hide the derision in her tone. The dama ’s art of reading omens in the Heavens was primitive nonsense compared with the alagai hora .

Ahmann shook his head. ‘Abban’s spies report that is the day the greenlanders bring their harvest tithe to the capital. A precise strike will leave them unsupplied through the winter while we wait out the snows in plenty.’

‘You take your military advice from a khaffit now?’ Inevera asked.

‘You know Abban’s value as well as I,’ Ahmann said. ‘His prophecies of profit are nearly as accurate as your hora .’

‘Perhaps,’ Inevera said, ‘but I would not gamble the fate of all men on them.’

Ahmann nodded. ‘And so I come to you, to confirm his information. Cast the bones.’

Inevera felt her jaw tighten. Ahmann had been fighting the demon prince’s bodyguard, and had not seen the mind demon drain the magic from her bones, collapsing them into dust. Thus far, she had kept the loss a secret to all, even him.

‘The alagai hora tell what they will, beloved,’ she said. ‘I cannot simply demand they verify information.’

Ahmann looked at her. ‘I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.’

‘The conditions are not-’ Inevera began, but a flare of magic from one of the gems on Ahmann’s crown cut her off.

‘You’re lying,’ Ahmann said, his voice hard and sure. ‘You’re hiding something from me. What is it?’ The crown continued to brighten as his eyes bored into her, and Inevera felt powerless before them.

‘The demon prince destroyed my dice,’ she blurted, hating the admission, but afraid to dissemble further until she understood what was happening. He was using one of the hidden powers of the crown.

According to the Evejah’ting, the sacred metal was etched with wards on both sides around the demon bone core. Inevera hungered for the secrets of those wards, but she could not unravel them without taking the precious artefact apart, and even she would not dare such sacrilege.

Ahmann’s look was sour. ‘You could have simply told me.’

Inevera ignored the comment. ‘I have begun carving a new set. I will be able to cast the bones again soon.’

‘Perhaps one of your Jiwah Sen should cast in the meantime,’ Ahmann said. ‘This cannot wait.’

‘It can,’ Inevera said. ‘First snow is three months away, and you have more immediate concerns.’

Ahmann nodded. ‘Waning.’

Inevera woke with Ahmann’s arms clutching at her possessively, even as he slept.

Careful not to wake him, she put her thumb into a pressure point on Ahmann’s arm, numbing it long enough for her to slip free of the bed. Her bare feet sank into the rich carpet, and she padded so softly across the floor that the belled anklets she still wore did not make a sound.

Ahmann grew more powerful every day, sleeping less and less, but even the Deliverer needed to close his eyes for an hour or three, and she had seen to it that he was relaxed. His seed ran slowly down her leg as she strode to the terrace. She wondered if a child would come of their union. Without the dice she could not know for sure, but their loving had been powerful, and it was too long since she had borne him a son.

Eunuch guards opened the great glass doors. Inevera paid them no mind as she strode past, relishing the warm breeze and the feel of sunlight on her skin. The guards who shadowed Ahmann’s wives had neither stones nor spears, and would not dare so much as glance at her bottom.