The Red Queen (90 page)

Part of Nareem’s desire for a trueblood son, I saw now, was to ensure that the women in his household would continue to be protected from the sort of men who had killed his daughter.

Nareem was Gadfian but essentially a kind, intelligent, civilised man, secure in his talents and with no desire for power, save the power to protect his loved ones and the power that would spare him the attention and machinations of the powerful. He was fortunate in liking and being liked by the High Chafiri, who was his patron and this served to keep him and his household relatively safe. But his High Chafiri was not the Prime Chafiri. Nareem allow himself no conscious opinion of the Prime nor indeed of any of the High Chafiri, but he actively feared the capricious wife of the Prime, who used his services. She was fickle, difficult and had a cruel streak. All that protected Nareem was his undeniable skill and the patronage of his own High Chafiri, but even that had to be managed very carefully, for he dared not complain or criticise any Chafiri when he was only a pureblood Gadfian.

I rifled through his memories of his dealings with the High Chafiri, noting that he was skilful not only in handling cloth but also in handling people, and he used his diplomacy to negotiate what seemed to me to be the shark-filled waters of elite Chafiri society. I was able to cross-reference much of what I had learned from Riyad and her son with what I found in his mind, thereby developing a fuller picture of life in Redport. But he knew almost nothing of the lives of slaves in general, let alone of life in Slavetown.

I turned from these matters to more mundane matters, trying to see how the household worked.

Nareem’s proper residence was a free-standing flat-roofed two-level building with a roof garden within the compound wall. It had a very modest yard, befitting his importance. The more important the Gadfian, the larger the area enclosed by a compound wall, and the higher the ground it was built upon. All of the Chafiri and High Chafiri lived in the southern part of the settlement, and this custom derived from New Gadfia, which I saw from his mind covered a steep, stony coastal area and a number of steep, stony islands, where height meant the ability to see threats from afar. The creation of the Gadfian compounds had obviously required the destruction of streets of Redlander dwellings, with the result that their occupants had been pushed to the north of the settlement.

Like Riyad’s bondmate, Nareem slept on the second level of his house. This was apparently the custom for all Gadfian men of any rank. Women visited their chambers then returned to their own, even wives. That Nareem kept Gretha with him spoke of his love for her. There was also a large chamber on the same level as his bedchamber, for entertaining customers. This included a chamber prepared for the occasional highborn women who chose to come to his establishment for fittings rather than having him come to them. They would ascend using ornate external steps that led directly from the ground by the gate to the upper level. There were also narrow internal steps, but these were only used by Nareem and his slaves. Gretha and another slavewoman would tend to the women in the midst of measuring and fitting them while Nareem entertained their bondmates, sometimes in the large chamber, sometimes on the roof. If the buyer was important, Nareem would borrow slave musicians from a friend.

As in Riyad’s household, the slavewomen slept in rooms on the lowest level in beds to which cloth-covered leg chains were fastened; only Gretha was exempt, for she slept each night with Nareem and he never pegged her.

The yard was little more than a dusty expanse, with lines for drying dyed cloths, but there was a shed within the compound wall, into which the passage through the wall from the cloth house opened. It housed a beast called a mulik and a small herd of goats, kept for milk and cheese and butter, which Nareem’s sons herded out to graze each day north of the settlement. This accorded with what I had got from Riyad’s son, and confirmed that the settlement was most porous on its northern border. The mulik I saw in Nareem’s mind was very like a horse save that it had a furry pelt and long ears like a donkey. Certainly a horse would not pass for a mulik. The beast was also smaller and stockier than a horse and very strong. Nareem used it to pull a little cart when he was delivering his wares or collecting several rolls of cloth.

The more I learned, the gladder I was that Nareem had seen me and thwarted my plans, for he was clearly invaluable, not only as a source of information, but coerced he could be the means of reaching the most important Gadfians in Redport. For this reason, I coerced him to send the slavewomen on a number of small errands that would keep them occupied, and then I carefully laid down a coercive web of obedience in Nareem’s mind, which would enable me to direct him even when we were not in contact.

‘What have you done to him?’ demanded Gretha suddenly, and loudly.

I turned to look at her, only then realising she had not obeyed her master’s command to bring him some food. I might have reached out and made contact, coercing her while the other women were absent, but having come to know her through Nareem’s mind, I understood that she was resourceful and clever and kind, and on impulse I rose and, looking into her eyes, I said, ‘You are Landborn. Do you know of Misfits, once burned by the Council and the Herder Faction for their Talents?’

‘Yes but . . .’ Her eyes widened and flicked to Nareem who sat calmly, apparently oblivious to our conversation. ‘You are such a one?’

‘I am. I need information about Redport and I am taking it from the mind of your master. I mean him or you no harm. What say you to that?’ I was close enough that I could reach out to her if she screamed or tried to call for help.

She looked at Nareem again, then she looked back at me. ‘You could do that to me?’

I merely nodded.

She frowned and said slowly, ‘When I was a child an old man was burned for some wrongness. I never knew what it was, but he had been kind to me and I wept until I was told that I must cease lest the Faction judge me Misfit too. I ceased weeping but not my sorrow. I do not know what wrong he was charged with but there was never any harm in him.’

She might have been lying to reassure me so that she could get away and call for help, but her eyes were clear and unafraid as she sat down beside Nareem and reached out to take his hand in hers. ‘You will do no harm to him?’

I swallowed hard, seeing exactly why Nareem loved her, and it struck me all at once that if the Redlanders did rise, Nareem would be free to bond with her and claim his sons. Unless Dragon and her people decided to drive them all out . . . ‘I am trying to find my friends,’ I said. It was the truth but not the whole truth.

‘They are slaves,’ she said. ‘They must be, for there are no free folk of any kind but Gadfians here in Redport.’

‘The emissary of the white-faced lords and his entourage and shipfolk are not slaves,’ I prevaricated, ‘Nor is Salamander who captains the
Black Ship.
Or black-hearted Ariel who sometimes travels with him.’

Gretha’s eyes narrowed. ‘These people come here but they do not dwell here.’

‘Where do they stay when they come?’ I asked.

She frowned. ‘The Lord Ariel and the white-faced emissary guest with the High Chafiri Prime when they visit Redport. Their entourages always remain aboard their ships, though the women of the white-faced lord will attend the masked ball to be held in his honour soon. But what has this to do with your friends? What have you done to Nareem?’

Ignoring the first part of her question, I said, ‘I have coerced him to render him passive and receptive in order to get the information I need to move about Redport safely and swiftly. Otherwise he is himself and when I go, I will ensure he remembers none of this.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then I leave,’ I said.

‘And what of us?’ Gretha asked calmly, gesturing to the other young Landwoman who had entered quietly a moment before.

‘I will do no harm to any of you if you can allow me to learn what I need to learn and go from this place without summoning the Ekoni,’ I said, and I saw from her expression that she took from this that I could do harm, if I chose. I was glad I did not need to threaten her. Indeed I would not threaten, I would only act. But she would be invaluable if she could be brought willingly to help me, because she would have the knowledge of Slavetown that Nareem lacked, and if she was willing I need not stumble around in her mind trying to find what I needed, I could simply ask.

‘The Ekoni,’ she said with contempt. ‘I would as well summon up the Entina from the pit to save me. Tell me what you need to know. I will help you if I can.’ She turned and gently but firmly bade the other girl go and get food and drink for all of us.

I was uneasy for a moment, wondering if she had somehow signalled the other Landborn slave to summon help.

‘You need not fear me nor any of these other slavewomen,’ Gretha said. ‘Women survive best here by
not
being noticed. If you mean harm, then reporting you is like to see us sold, for those in power will wonder why you came to our household.’

‘Very well,’ I said, reassured. ‘My friends are mostly Landborn,’ I said. ‘I understand this means they must live in Slavetown?’

It was a question and she answered it. ‘In Slavetown or in Quarry, if they were chosen to serve the emperor of the white-faced lords.’

‘Quarry?’

‘It is to the north of Redport,’ Gretha said, a bleak expression on her face. ‘A training camp where all of those who are to be slave warriors live and learn the art of war without endangering the slavemasters.’

So
that
was what the settlement to the north was, I thought. ‘Tell me first about Slavetown,’ I said. ‘How is it arranged? Does the curfew operate within its walls? Do Ekoni patrol there at night? Is there a central place and any sort of leadership?’

Instead of answering, Gretha asked, ‘How long since you have seen your friends?’

‘Long,’ I said. ‘Some I have not seen for many years, and others I parted from more than a year ago . . .’

‘If they are Landfolk and able-bodied men, other than mine workers of crew overseers, they would have been sold on or sent to Quarry. It was not always so. There used to be many Landmen within Redport, but there were a number of violent uprisings masterminded by foreign slaves, and the High Chafiri decided it would be better to send all foreign men and strong women to Quarry to be trained. I think they were afraid that their violent ways would infect and rouse the Redlanders against them.’ Her lip curled. ‘This celebration is as much for the Gadfians as for the emissary, because he is to take the troublesome slave warriors with him back to Shambala, even though they are not the number promised.’

‘The emissary is here to collect the slave army?’ I asked, my heart beginning to pound.

‘It is what the Chafiri have offered as a salve gift to the emissary, Nareem says,’ Gretha said.

‘Because they have not amassed the promised number,’ I murmured, wondering where Ariel came into it. A question occurred to me. ‘What is Shambala?’

‘It is the name of the city where dwells the emperor of the land of the white-faced lords,’ said the older Redland slavewoman, who had entered with the other Redland slave, both of them carrying piles of clothing. The other Landwoman entered too, carrying a covered tray that looked heavy when she set it down.

I stared at them for a minute, noting that both the faces and arms of the two Redland women were inscribed with black skin patterning like the Guanette bird picture Swallow had once marked upon my arm using pins and ink – tattoos he called them. Then I returned my attention to Gretha. ‘Tell me about Quarry.’

‘That is some way north of the settlement,’ the older of the Redland women said. ‘It is an abandoned open mine where long ago beasts were pitted against one another in competitions to the death, until the Red Queen found out and stopped the practice. Some say that is why she was betrayed.’ She regarded Nareem, sitting quietly by, now rocking slightly as if to music, then she looked at me. ‘You are one of those the Landfolk call Misfits?’ There was a wistfulness in her voice that startled me.

My heart began to gallop and I waved her to sit. ‘I am,’ I said. ‘Do you know of others like that?’

She sat and said, ‘There are said to be some in Slavetown with the old powers, but I do not know them.’

‘Why do you call them the old powers?’ I asked curiously.

‘It is said that many Redlanders had them once, but they flowed from the Red Queen, and when she died, they died with her.’

It was terribly tempting to ask more on this account, for I was now wondering how long the block had been active. Was it possible the Gadfians had brought some sort of machine with them when they invaded, and it had been operating ever since, blocking Redland Misfits so that they ceased to be aware of their powers and thought them lost? I looked at Gretha. ‘Who rules Slavetown?’

I expected her to refuse to name any names, or to ask how slaves should have leaders, but instead she said, ‘The first thing you need to know is that not all in Slavetown are foreigners. Many Redlanders dwell there too. Deenak is the spokesman for Landborn slaves in Slavetown. He is the one summoned by the Chafiri when they wish to communicate something to our people.’

‘What of the Redlanders,’ I asked, thinking of Dragon. ‘Who speaks for them in and out of Slavetown?’

Gretha cast a glance of intermingled scorn and pity at the two Redland women, now both seated. ‘The Redlanders have no leaders. They have given themselves to their masters wholly.’

‘I believe they are passive only because they have sworn not to rise against their oppressors until the return of their queen,’ I said.

I saw both the Redland women stiffen at these words, although their faces remained still. Gretha stared at me a moment then asked, ‘Who are you that knows so little of Redport that you must learn what any child knows from us, and yet you know of their legend of the Red Queen?’

‘She is no legend,’ I said, and this time both Redland women rose spontaneously and I saw the flash of yearning in their eyes they could not suppress. I stood and looked at them. ‘She is coming,’ I told them simply. ‘She is here.’