Peter Brett - The Skull Throne

Inevera nodded to Abban. “Tell them, khaffit. ”

Jayan and the others turned incredulous looks his way.

“The khaffit ?!” Jayan demanded. “I am Sharum Ka! Why does this khaffit know of battle plans when I do not? I should have been advising Father, not some pig-eater.”

“Because Father spoke to Everam,” Asome guessed, “and did not need your ‘advice.’ ” He glanced to Abban. “He only needed the tallies.”

Something about the cold assessment of Asome’s stare frightened Abban in ways Jayan’s aggression did not. He used his crutch to stand, then left it leaning on his desk. The men would give more weight to his words if he stood on his own two feet to deliver them. He cleared his throat, molding the clay of his face into a look of nervous deference to put his “betters” at ease.

“Honored Sharum Ka,” Abban said. “The losses to our food stores during the last Waning are greater than the Deliverer wished known. Without a fresh supply, Everam’s Bounty will starve before spring begins to bud.”

That got everyone’s attention. Even Ashan leaned toward Abban now, rapt. “Sixteen days from now is the date the Laktonians observe the chin holy day first snow. The beginning of winter.”

“What of it?” Jayan snapped.

“It is also the day the chin deliver their harvest tithe to the dockmasters of Lakton,” Abban said. “A tithe that would keep our army fed until summer. The Deliverer made a bold plan to capture the tithe and the chin lands in one move.”

Abban paused, expecting an interruption at this point, but the closed circle remained silent. Even Jayan hung on his next words.

Abban signaled Qeran, who pulled out the carpet Abban’s wives had carefully woven to match the maps of the chin lands to the east, setting the run on the floor and unrolling it with a kick. Abban limped over as the others moved to stand around it.

“It was Shar’Dama Ka’s intention to send the Sharum Ka and the Spears of the Deliverer, along with two thousand dal’Sharum, overland in secret,” he traced a path over the open territory with the tip of his crutch, avoiding the Messenger road and chin villages, “to take the village of Docktown, here, the morning of first snow.” He tapped the large town at the lake’s edge with his crutch.

Jayan’s brow furrowed. “How will capturing a single village give us the city on the lake?”

“This is no simple village,” Abban said. “Closest to the city proper, seventy percent of Lakton’s docks are in Docktown, and all will be brimming with ships waiting to be loaded with the tithe once the talliers have counted it. Take the city on first snow, and you can take the tithe, the fleet, and the closest landfall to the city. Without the stores, or ships to go in search of more, the fish men will be ready to offer you the head of their duke, and his dockmasters besides, in exchange for a loaf of bread.”

Jayan clenched a fist at the thought, but he was not satisfied. “Two thousand dal’Sharum is enough to take any chin village, but not enough to hold and guard any length of shoreline through the cold months. We will be surrounded by enemies that outnumber us greatly.”

Abban nodded. “This is why the Deliverer, in his wisdom, planned to send a second force of five thousand dal’Sharum up the main road a week after to conquer the Laktonian villages one by one, levying them for Sharak Ka. They will act as spearhead, clearing the path for forty dama and their apprentices, ten thousand kha’Sharum, and twenty thousand chi’Sharum who will settle the land in their wake, sending for their families and assisting the local dama in instituting Evejan law. Before any true snow falls, you will have seven thousand of your finest dal’Sharum at hand.”

“Enough to smash anyone fool enough to stand against us,” Jayan growled.

Asukaji slipped his hands from his sleeves and he and Asome began speaking rapidly in their personal sign language. Normally the code was so subtle it could easily be missed by someone staring right at them, but now there was too much to say, and too little time. Fortunately, the others in the room were distracted.

Abban could not begin to follow the conversation, but he could easily guess its content. They were debating the relative advantages and disadvantages of having Jayan out of Everam’s Bounty fighting Sharak Sun for an extended time, and whether they could stop it in any event.

They must have decided not, for the two men, the most likely to oppose the plan, remained silent.

Aleverak turned to Ashan. “What says the Andrah to this plan? It is wise to send the bulk of our forces on the attack when we have a growing rebellion at home?”

Ashan’s eyes flicked to Inevera’s. They, too, had a silent language, but he caught the slightest hint of her lips moving, and knew that she had given him a hora ring as well.

“The dice have spoken, Damaji,” Ashan said. “The dockmasters have been financing the attacks to keep us from taking the offensive against them. We must show them the futility of this strategy.”

“In the meantime, Waning is upon us,” Inevera said. “Alagai Ka and his princelings will walk the Ala tonight. Even the chin know what that means. Put them under curfew and muster every able warrior, including the Sharum’ting. The dice tell me the First Demon will turn his eyes elsewhere this cycle, but we must not relax our guard. Even the least of his princes can turn the mindless alagai into a cohesive force.”

There was none of the usual arrogance in Jayan’s bow, even at the command to include women in the fighting. He was wise enough to keep quiet when all was going better than he could possibly have imagined. “Of course, Mother. It will be done.”

“If every able body is needed, I propose the dama be allowed to fight, as well,” Asukaji said.

“I agree,” Asome said immediately, a rehearsed scene if ever Abban had seen one.

“Preposterous!” Aleverak sputtered.

“Out of the question,” Ashan said.

“So we are in such dire need of warriors that you will take women over those trained in Sharik Hora?” Asome demanded.

“The Deliverer forbid it,” Ashan said. “The dama are too important to risk.”

“My father forbid it last Waning,” Asome corrected, “and only for that cycle. He forbid the Sharum’ting then as well, but tonight they will muster to the Horn of Sharak. Why not the dama ?”

“Not all the dama are young, strong men as you and my son, nephew,” Ashan said.

“None should be forced to fight,” Asukaji amended, “but those who wish it should not be denied Everam’s glory in the night. Sharak Ka is coming.”

“Perhaps,” Ashan said. This time, he did not so much as glance at Inevera. “But it is not here yet. The dama will remain behind the wards.”

Asome pressed his lips together, and again, Abban was reminded how young he was. Jayan cast a hint of smirk his way, but Asome arched his back, holding hard to his pride and pretending not to see.

“It is decided,” Inevera said. “On the first dawn following Waning, Jayan and his warriors will depart to strike a crushing blow in Everam’s name.”

Jayan bowed again. “Docktown will the ours and Lakton in a submission hold before they even know we are close.”

Inevera nodded. “Of that I have no doubt. We will need a strict accounting of all your expenses, however, and of the captured harvest.”

“Eh?” Jayan asked. “Am I a khaffit, to be spending my time with ledgers and lattices when my men are shedding blood?”