The Three Lands Omnibus (2011 Edition) (57 page)

"I was determined not to see, so I bowed very low – and when I raised my head again, he was standing right in front of me, stopped in his tracks. I suppose that his attention was caught by my bow. No one else did that."
"Carle!" I flung myself off my pallet, where I had been rereading entries in my journal. "What did he say?"
"Why should he say anything?" Carle was grinning with sheepish joy, readjusting the emblem brooch so that his neck-flap wasn't closed so tight. "I'm nobody important. I could see that he noticed my brooch, though – I was glad about that. He only stopped for a moment; then he continued on, which was a great relief to me, because all the stories about his look are true. I
was
on the point of passing out."
He still looked pale, so I took out a flask and handed it to him. "What does the face look like?"
"It's hard to describe." He sat down on the pallet with me, first unhooking his army sword from his belt. "It's very stiff and rigid – a bit like your Koretian masks, only it is built into the Chara's features. When he looks at you, you feel as though he is seeing through to the depths of your spirit and searching out every dark deed you have ever done. I found myself wondering whether I had accidentally broken some law during my manhood – if I had, I'm sure that the Chara would have known it. His face looked as ancient as Emor itself, as though he was holding in his expression the accumulated wisdom of a thousand years' worth of Charas. Thank that wisdom that I will never again have to face the—"
There was a cough, and Carle and I looked up in surprise to see that a well-dressed boy had pushed back the flap to our tent. "Carle son of Verne?" he said in a voice stilted with formality.
"That is I." Carle stood up. "What can I do for you, young man?"
The boy raised his chin as though he was offended by Carle's question. "I am a page to the Chara, and I bear a summons from him. He wishes to see you in his quarters immediately." He held up a document that confirmed his words. It bore the seal of the Great Chara.
I looked over at Carle. He had turned as white as new snow, and his fingernails were biting into his palms. Seeing this, I realized that he did not have the ability to answer the boy, and so I said hastily, "He'll come right away. Are you to escort him?"
The boy shook his head. "Come in by way of the east entrance," he told Carle. "The guards will let you through. But do not keep the Chara waiting."
With this pompous addition of advice, he left us alone. For a moment, Carle remained frozen. Then the page's final words apparently penetrated his mind, and he began looking frantically around, as though he had lost something.
"May the high doom fall upon me," he moaned. "What have I done? What have I done? Perhaps I should have knelt when he stopped next to me."
"Don't be absurd." I was just as panic-stricken as Carle, but it was obvious that one of us needed to remain calm, so I took on the harder task. "Only Daxions kneel to their ruler. He probably just recognized you as one of his spies and wants to talk to you about Koretia."
"How would he recognize me? I haven't seen him for six years, not since I gave him my oath as a patrol guard. No, I've done something terrible, that's clear enough, and now I'm to face the wrath—" He stopped; he had found what he was looking for and was on the point of clipping his sheathed sword onto his belt when he stopped and carefully laid the weapon back down on the pallet. He had remembered that prisoners appear before the Chara's judgment unarmed.
I said impulsively, "Let me come with you."
He shook his head and moved rapidly toward the tent flap. "He only wants to see me, and I'm wholly to blame for whatever has happened. You weren't there." He left without another word.
I wasn't there. Those are the words that have been haunting me all this afternoon while I await Carle's return – if he
is
returning. I wasn't there, and I wasn't there because the Jackal didn't want me to be there. Have I betrayed my fellow Emorian after all? Is Carle now in danger because of me?
Danger indeed. Carle returned to the tent a short while ago and announced his presence by hurling his royal emblem brooch into the corner.
"
Cursed
be the spirit of my father!" he shouted. His face was as red as it had been white when he left. "I ought to have known that any wine of friendship he offered me would be poisoned."
"What happened?" I asked, my alarm having reached its peak. "What did the Chara say?"
Carle, though, took no notice of my words; he was still staring darkly at the brooch in the corner. "That dog-bred, mud-dwelling, perfidious man! He always knew how to hurt those under his care the most. I might have known that he would pick an appropriate revenge. Not only does he reveal to me how ignorant I am of the law, but he stabs me through to the very heart of my spirit by tricking me into doing the one thing I'd sworn I'd never again do: be disloyal to the Chara. If my father were still alive, I'd—"
"Carle!" I cried. "For the gods' sake, what has happened?"
I had lapsed into Border Koretian; this was probably what attracted Carle's attention. He turned his head, and there crept onto his face that dark, sickening smile he had inherited from his father. It was directed, I knew, not at me but at his father's spirit.
"It is treason to wear the royal emblem," he explained lightly. "Only the Chara and the Chara To Be may wear the emblem. Anyone else who wears it is considered a pretender to the throne. It is a crime under the Law of Grave Iniquity, and it is punishable by the high doom of death by torture."
A Slave's Death. That was the common name for the week-long death reserved for disobedient palace slaves and the most treacherous free-men. I ought to have been overwhelmed by the image of Carle being slowly broken by the branding, the racking, the gelding, and all the rest, but only one thought remained in my mind: He tricked me. The Jackal tricked me.
"Carle, they can't do this to you!" My voice came out as a whimper, so close was I to weeping. "I'll go to the Chara; I'll tell him it was all my fault. I was the one who persuaded you to wear the brooch, and if I had been there, you wouldn't have hidden in the back and been seen by the Chara. I'm to blame for all this, and I should bear the punishment. I'll invoke the Sacrifice division . . . I'll make them do it to me instead—"
I stopped. Within a short time after I began talking, the darkness of Carle's smile had disappeared. All that was left was his pure, crooked smile, accompanied by his wise eyes watching as I made my wild and needless offer. I ducked my head and felt my ears burn.
"Would you really have done that?" he asked quietly. "Would you really have given up your life for me like that?"
"I'm a fool." My voice was muffled by the tears that still clogged my throat. "I ought to have known that it would only take the Chara an instant to see how loyal you are. It was stupid of me to think that you needed my help."
"I might have needed it." Carle's voice was still soft. "And how many men, do you think, would have troubled even to offer witness in defense of a man who had broken one of the Great Three? By the laws, it takes an event like this to offer me supreme proof of who my truest friend is."
I looked up and found myself barely able to bear the look that passed between us. Perhaps Carle felt the same way, for he turned abruptly away and went over to pick up the brooch from the dust. "Well, it's as you say – not so much that the Chara saw I was loyal, no doubt, but that he must have seen I was too much of a fool to be plotting treason. He was very kind to me and asked after my family. He remembered my father from when they grew up together at the palace, and he remembered me because of our border-breaching prank. I continued to be such a fool that I wasted his time by babbling to him about how I wanted to work for a town council some day. I'm lucky he didn't fall asleep from boredom. He even said that I could keep the brooch, since it was a family heirloom. Needless to say, I'm going to put it away in a box and never let it see daylight again."
"But you had the chance to talk with the Chara," I said, looking for some comfort in the midst of this disaster.
Carle turned back from the corner, holding the brooch in one hand. He was smiling again. "I was able to talk with the Chara. Some day, when I am dying and I review the accomplishments of my life, that will still be at the top of my list: I once spoke with the Chara. And you're right, Adrian: you're entirely to blame for what happened, and I owe it all to you."
I felt and continue to feel uncomfortable because I know that what Carle said wasn't true, not wholly. Carle owes his good fortune, not so much to me, as to the Jackal, yet I will never be able to tell him that his dearest dream came true through the help of a Koretian god. I still don't understand why the Jackal did this for Carle. But I remember telling the god that I wanted to do two things: to make a sacrifice for Carle and to make a sacrifice for the Chara. It is good to know that at least one of my own dreams has come true.
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The first day of September in the 943rd year a.g.l.
I'm writing these words from the patrol hut, which is chilly tonight, since the autumn winds have already started. It is likely, I think, that the snows will begin earlier than expected this year, but the patrol soldiers, having been forewarned by their earlier brush with death, will no doubt take appropriate cautions and retreat from the mountains in time. Of course, I will not be here to witness that.
Carle is here tonight as well; I can just hear his voice rising up in triumph as he wins another Law Link over the others. Their fire is beyond my view from where I sit, but it is comforting to hear their voices, raised in the ancient game of law that will no doubt continue long after all of us here tonight are gone. Even the last link that I heard no longer frightens me, though earlier today it seemed for a while as heavy on me as the chain that binds an unwilling slave.
My first clue to its arrival came this morning, when I received word that Captain Radley wished to speak with me. I went to his tent and was surprised to see Carle standing outside, awaiting entrance.
"I thought that you had left for Koretia," I said.
Carle shook his head. "My mission was cancelled; I've no idea why. Perhaps the captain thinks that matters are too unsettled there at the moment, what with the recent fighting near the border. I vow, if the Koretians don't find some way of controlling their blood-thirst, we'll eventually see this war spill over into Emor."
"Perhaps it would be well if it did," I responded. "Then the Chara would be forced to bring Emorian civilization to that land."
"Perhaps," said Carle, but I could see that he was distracted. His mind, I knew, was still on his recent meeting with the Chara. He brought himself back to his surroundings with an effort and said, "What dirty mission does the captain have planned for you?"
"I really don't know," I replied. "Do you suppose that he has called us both here so that we can work together on—"
"Lieutenant!" It was the voice of Radley's orderly; Carle and I both looked his way. "Lieutenant Carle," the orderly clarified. "Oh, and you might as well go in as well, Lieutenant Adrian. The captain is expecting you."
Carle raised his eyebrows at me, then stepped aside and allowed me to enter the tent first. I took advantage of his offer, and that was my first mistake. Perhaps it was my last one too; I don't think I could have changed anything that happened afterwards.
As I entered the tent, I realized my mistake from Radley's expression. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. By the time that Carle entered, though, Radley's expression had taken on a curious blankness, the sort of look he usually reserves for distinguished but not high-ranked visitors to the headquarters. "Ah, Lieutenant Carle," he said, fingering the document in front of him. "I have a message that needs to be taken over to the Great Council's quarters. It is highly confidential, so I am depending on you to see that it reaches the right person. You are to give it to the council clerk and wait for an answer. No doubt," he added, spreading his lips in a thin smile, "you can find ways to occupy yourself while awaiting the reply."
The slight twitch of Carle's dagger hand revealed his thoughts, but he said no more than, "Yes, sir," and took the sealed letter from Radley.
I carefully avoided Carle's eye, lest he make the mistake of exchanging glances with me. The way that Radley had failed to acknowledge my presence while Carle was there told me that trouble was coming. And in fact Carle had no sooner left than Radley's eyes narrowed once more. His voice growing thin and unpleasant, he said, "I see, lieutenant, that you have taken it upon yourself to elevate your rank to such a degree that you not only precede those senior to you but you also enter a captain's tent unannounced. I congratulate you on your advancement."
I remained silent, not wishing to reveal the orderly's error in allowing me entrance. Radley drummed his fingers on the table as he squinted at me. Then he said, "Well, Koretian spy, I have been going through your records, and I see that your multitudinous talents have been wasted in one respect."
He was obviously waiting for a response, so I asked, "In what way, sir?"
"Why, here we have a spy whose greatest value – I might say your only value, but I do not want to be prejudiced – is your ability to assimilate into Koretian life. Yet it appears that Captain Wystan never took full advantage of this fact and sent you back to your own village."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again at Radley's look. He continued, "I hear from other spies that there has been considerable unrest in Mountside and its neighboring villages because of the recent fighting in the borderland. I want to know whether the Jackal has been to Mountside recently. You are to go to your village, find some old acquaintance there, and uncover this information. It is an easy and quick mission, so I will expect you to report here seven days from now – eight at the most. You are dismissed."
After a while, he looked up from his papers again and said sharply, "I said that you were dismissed, lieutenant."
"Sir, may I have permission to speak?"
"No, you may not. I have this" – he indicated the pile of papers on his desk – "to get through before noonday, when I am to meet with the subcommander. If you have any questions about your mission, you may ask my orderly."