The Prince of Shadow (58 page)

“And?” Llesho bristled. He'd thought that, at least, he could gain from his mad dash across Shan Province.

“Markko doesn't work alone, boy,” Master Den said. “That was clear at his dinner table, if we did not know it before. His connections to Harn likely run much deeper than a chance encounter at an inn.”

Llesho closed his eyes and let his head drop against the straight back of his chair. Hundreds had fallen in battle. Stipes had lost an eye and would never march at Bixei's side again. Master Jaks lay buried in a soldiers' field with no mark upon his grave to proclaim his bravery or his honor.

“I have thrown away the lives of those who trusted me to placate a hallucination,” he said. “I should have drowned in the bay before I ever set out on this fool's mission.”

“Don't let self-pity spoil your judgment,” General Shou chided him. “You have performed a great service for the empire: Shan is forwarned of the danger within its own borders, from whichever direction it may come.” He glared at Habiba to show that he hadn't let the witch off his hook yet. “And you have already achieved the first part of your quest. Tomorrow, you will have Prince Adar at your side. And you are in the imperial city, which is more than the capital of the empire.”

“The head of the trade route to the West,” Kaydu muttered, and the general smiled.

“The trade caravans must pass through Kungol, regardless of which power rules there,” Hmishi supplied, with an answering grin.

General Shou gave a little shrug, his smile only half-hidden. “If a future general could travel the length of the trade route by caravan, and explore the city of Kungol unnoticed, so, too, can a future king.”

“It will be dangerous,” Habiba warned.

Llesho looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “Ask Lord Chin-shi how safe it is to do nothing.”

Habiba bowed in acknowledgment. “It had to be said, though I had no doubt about your answer.”

“Speaking of danger,” Bixei reminded them, “what is to be done with Markko? We can't very well hire ourselves onto a caravan crossing Harn lands with him following, especially if he is working with the Harn.”

Markko's power was subtle and strong, and evil to its very center. Llesho had lost so much to the deadly master already that he could not be certain he had the strength to overcome the magician, even if he were willing to die in the attempt. But he had not lost all, yet.

“I saw Mara in the square today,” he whispered.

“I thought you saw her die,” Hmishi said, while the rest of the companions held their breath.

“The Golden Dragon swallowed her,” Llesho confirmed. “Nevertheless, I saw her today, in the square. A vendor said she has a bear with her, and that the creature dances for coins.”

“Do you think the bear is Lleck?” Lling asked.

“What else can it be?” Llesho asked.

“It may be a trap, set to snare a prince,” Habiba warned him.

Kaydu picked up Little Brother from the table, cradling him in her arms with a sly smile. “But tame bears are not the only performing animals in Shan. While Llesho and the general are buying the freedom of Prince Adar, Little Brother and I will find a likely spot on the square and see what we can find out.”

Master Den nodded his agreement. “If Habiba and I take up the charge of keeping Master Markko away from the various subterfuges of our young soldiers, our plan is set.”

Habiba signaled the end of their meeting with a bow to the general. “I will see to standing down the alert among our guard.”

When he had gone, Llesho followed General Shou toward the banner behind which they had entered. Kaydu caught him, however, and laid a hand upon his sleeve before he could make good his escape. “You are not going anywhere without your guards, Llesho. It's not that I don't trust your security, General Shou,” she bowed politely to the waiting general, “but Prince Llesho is our responsibility.”

Hmishi tried to pull himself away, but he could not seem to let go of Lling's hand. “I can carry her.”

General Shou shook his head. “No one is coming with us. I'm taking risk enough bringing Llesho through the tunnels. I won't hazard the palace or its secrets any further.”

“Then Llesho can stay here,” Lling insisted.

“And Master Markko?” Shou asked. Markko had rooms in the guest quarters just as they did.

Master Den had lied, or not known about the tunnels, when he said there was no access to the private sleeping rooms of the palace. But what Master Den had figured out, Master Markko might also.

“Rest easy,” Master Den assured the companions. “Between us, the general and I can keep even Llesho alive.”

With a last reassuring smile, Master Den nudged Llesho toward the secret door behind the wall hanging. General Shou led the way, and the three were back in the tunnels, following a twisting course that Llesho could not recall from one turn to the next. Master Den, he noticed, did not hesitate or require confirming directions.

Finally, they stopped at another blank wall which opened to the general's cautious probing, and Llesho tumbled out into the locked room that adjoined his own, a study lined with books and strange artifacts from many distant lands.

Master Den followed him with more dignity. “Sleep well, my prince.” He gave Llesho a deep bow, and left the general alone with Llesho in the study.

“You played a difficult part, and did it well today.” The general pulled back the bolts and opened the door for Llesho to pass into his own room. “Ring for the servants to fetch you a meal, so that you can be officially accounted for. No need for explanations; the servants are discreet, and none will ever know save Master Den and your confederates that you were absent for much of the day. As for the trinket you would trade for your brother's freedom, the fewer who know that you have it, the safer will be both the bauble and its bearer.

“Now get some rest. I'll leave word for you in the morning.”

With that he closed the door. The walls were thick, so Llesho could not hear the general's departing footsteps, but when he tried the door, he found it unlocked, and when he opened it, the room beyond was empty.

Chapter Thirty-four

IN the morning, Llesho found a folded note sitting on a suit of clothes laid out for him to wear. The note said only, “The garden. One hour.”

He had a good idea who had put it there, and the garden must mean the altar of ChiChu at the Imperial Water Garden. But he didn't know how long the note had been waiting for him to wake up. With a groan, he decided he didn't have time for breakfast. Instead, he hurriedly pulled on the white quilted breeches and embroidered red silk jacket that General Shou meant him to wear. The black pearl he had received from Lleck was still where he had hidden it; he put it in the inside pocket of the jacket. Then, slipping his feet into a pair of woven sandals, he headed for the secret tunnels that would lead him to the palace square and the garden beyond.

As they had the day before, the guards he passed showed no interest in where he was going. The sun was well up when he slipped into the square, but few people were yet about their business or worship, and he made his way with few eyes to notice his departure. He soon found himself standing alone in front of the waterfall at the center of the Imperial Water Garden that represented Thousand Lakes Province in the city of Shan. General Shou was not there as Llesho had expected, nor was anyone else about who might have left him the note. For a moment he felt the prickle of danger raise the hair on his neck. Then he heard Bixei, talking to someone as he drew closer to Llesho's position.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bixei said, and Llesho heard a soft murmur in reply. Then the two came into sight. General Shou was dressed in robes of even more outrageous richness than the day before, and Bixei wore a suit of clothes almost identical to Llesho's, except that his embroidered jacket was of blue silk rather than red.

“Is what a good idea?” Llesho asked. He didn't have to stand up because he hadn't bothered to sit while he waited; didn't want to cover the seat of his white pants with dust before they'd even got started.

“Kaydu went to the market square this morning to find out about the dancing bear,” Bixei answered. “Hmishi is tending Lling, who is well enough this morning to insist upon rising, but not sufficiently improved to actually get out of bed. Habiba and Master Den have both gone out of the city to check on the troops waiting there, which has left no one watching Master Markko.”

“That is not entirely correct.” General Shou did not explain what he meant by that. He studied Llesho carefully, and instructed, “Tuck in your chin. You must at least try to look like you are afraid of me, Llesho, or I will never be able to hold my head up in the slave markets again.”

“How can you carry yourself with pride while buying and selling human beings?” Llesho snapped at the general, but raised his right hand in a gesture of surrender. “Uncalled for, I know. I owe you this chance to find Adar. It is not my place to speak as your conscience.”

“No, it isn't,” Shou replied, and his tone was so distant, and so regal that Llesho had to look at him twice to find the general he knew inside the noble stranger who had briefly taken his place. Truly a disciple of the trickster god, with so many layers to him, Llesho wondered if he'd met the real man at their center even yet.

Without another word, Shou began walking. Llesho fell in step behind him, with Bixei at his side. They headed in the direction opposite from the one they had taken the day before, and Llesho realized they were going to enter the market square across from the slave block, nearer to the temple of The Seven. As they moved into the open, he saw Kaydu, clad in an extravagantly shiny set of clashing clothes, capering about while Little Brother, in the garb of the Imperial Guard, begged for coins with his tasseled cap in his paw. The crowd laughed as Kaydu performed some skit in which the “Imperial Guardsman” chittered at her in monkey language and danced on her head.

General Shou, Llesho noticed, was trying to suppress a smile, but his good humor vanished as they approached the Labor Exchange. The pens were full this morning; Llesho tried not to look at them, but still he felt the blood leave his face. The auction had already begun. People from more races than he had known existed, and dressed more strangely than he could have imagined, crowded the Shan market.

“Here's a fine specimen, trained in the crafts of cab inetmaker and coffiner,” the auctioneer wheedled while with one hand he gestured at the auction block. A naked man with his hands chained behind his back shivered there in all his desolation. “Presentable enough for household use, strong enough for heavy labor.”

The crowd of potential buyers surged forward to inspect the bitter captive displayed for their examination.

Bixei looked about the market square, his eyes wide as teacups. He had been born into slavery and had come to Pearl Island by private purchase, so he had no memories of the market or the slave block to haunt him. Still, he turned his head so that he did not have to look at the man on the block. “They sound like cattle, moaning in their pens,” he observed softly.

“Oh, Goddess.” Llesho shivered, his teeth chattering, as he repeated, again, “Oh, Goddess, I can't do this, Oh, Goddess. I can't.”

Bixei stopped. He reached out to grab Llesho's arm, but Llesho pulled away, screaming, “Don't touch me!” as he retreated further into the agony of his past. Bixei stared at the ongoing auction and then at his companion, but he refused to imagine what it had been like to stand on the slave block.

“I think he is sick!” he informed General Shou between clenched teeth.

“Llesho!” General Shou wrapped a hand around his arm and shook him, hard, when he tried to pull away, until his eyes focused on the general's face.

A woman came next to the block, trying with no success to hold her torn dress together over her breasts. Her weeping drew his gaze, but General Shou took Llesho's chin in his fingers and held him so that he could not look to the block.

“That's right,” Shou insisted. “No one is going to hurt you today. Just keep your eyes on me. A little pale is attractive, but we don't want the trader to think you are diseased.”

Llesho nodded that he understood, and managed to walk between the slave pens at the general's side, though he flinched. Each groan of misery struck him like a blow. Almost, he envied his sister, who had died in Kungol and had been spared the terror and the misery of the slave auction.

The countinghouse looked very different on trading day. The sliding panels that had separated the trading offices from the entry hall had been pushed aside to make one large room. Now the offices acted as privacy alcoves for conducting business. The room was crowded with Harnish traders and brokers shouting sums at one another and waving slips of paper and purses of coins. Llesho could not figure how they sorted out who had bought and who had sold and what the money changing hands had purchased.