The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (114 page)

It was twilight and he could
hear voices carried down from the battle tower high above them. They had also
been informed of their plan, those soldiers, and he knew they were covering the
party with arrows, spears and cannons if needed. His eyes swept the plateau, a
valley of rocky blue against the deepening blue of the mountains. It was wide
but steep and he knew they could not make headway in the dark. In the distance,
he could see pinpricks of light like the twinkling of stars, wondered if they
were from the village or the Legion stationed outside.

“Legion,” said the girl and he
wondered if she could read his thoughts. “From Karan Uurt, my home.”

He looked down at her, her long
face hidden by dark hair and the layers of reindeer cloak moving with the wind.
She pointed to a small mound, now covered in snow.

“Three dead. Arrows. There.”

“Where is the village?”

From behind them, he could hear
her brother growl, wondered if he understood anything at all of their
conversation or whether he merely objected to his sister speaking with the
Enemy.

“Lon’Gaar,” she said. “Not far.
If we leave at moondown, we be there at high sun.”

“Moondown?”

She looked up at him, her odd
bicoloured eyes reminding him of both earth and sky and his son. “When sun
chases moon to gar for day.”

He stared at her for a long
moment, his mind working to understand her imagery. Abrupt, yet poetic at the same
time.

“Sunrise,” he corrected her.
“Not moondown.”

“My people do this?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Make you hate.”

He held her gaze for only a
moment longer before turning to the twenty gathered along the new mouth of the
mine.

“We will bed down for the night
in the mouth of the mine,” he called to his people. “Keep the horses close.
Major…”

“Sir.”

“Divide the watches. We have
cover from the soldiers above but we are still vulnerable and the Legion is
close.”

“Yes, sir.” She was an arrow,
released by his command.

The Seer blinked slowly,
watching her go before turning to his horse.

As his brother set about making
arrangements, Kerris slipped back into the mine, looking for and finding his
wife with Musaf Summerdale. The tiger had a large collection of stones and
mineral samples and it was clear he was revisiting his decision to close the
mine. Profit was profit, no matter how many lives paid for its pursuit.

“Hey,” said Fallon, her voice
echoing slightly as it bounced off the stone walls. “Musaf is showing me this
fantastic vein of ore. It’s amazing really, how they get the ore out of the
mountainside, then how they smelt it down to make all kinds of useful—
oh!”

Kerris grabbed her hand, swung
her around and pulled her close.

“Have I told you how much I love
you today?”

“Um, well,” she grinned. “This
morning, I think you said something like that, yes.”

“Well, I do.”

“I know.”

And he kissed her.

She kissed him back, curled her
tail around his leg.

“You’re trembling,” she said.

He grinned, laid his forehead
against hers, but his hands were moving along her back. “Yes, well, I moved a
mountain today, didn’t I?”

“Aah.” Her grin widened. “I told
you you could.”

“You did indeed.”

And he kissed her again, began
fumbling at the wraps of her bison-skin cloak. But he paused, threw a glance
over his shoulder.

“Excuse me,
sidi,
but I
am about to make mad, passionate love to my wife,” he called. “I think I’ll ask
to you leave before I bring a very large stone on top of your very orange
head.”

Summerdale’s eyes grew wide before
he turned and fled, rocks jingling in his pockets.

“Oh, that was subtle, very
subtle.” Fallon wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. “Tell me again
how you charmed the palace courts?”

“Well, it went something like
this…”

And her bison cloak dropped to
the floor.

***

With the sun gone, there was
nothing to provide warmth. They would not chance a fire, not with a Legion so
close and the wind bit at their faces and ears and tails like a very sharp
blade. He was grateful now for the bulk of the yori for it cut the wind but the
pelt around his mouth and nose were white with frost. Not for the first time,
he wondered why the Ancestors had chosen a place such as
Pol’Lhasa
as
the seat of the Upper Kingdom. He loved the mountains but winter was hard on
everything.

Sireth, Nevye and the Oracle
were seated very close to each other on the slope of the mountainside. They
were in a circle and he noticed they had joined hands in the ritual of
Amnishakra
.
He remembered the very strange sensation of being in someone else’s mind, of
someone else’s heart beating in his chest, someone else’s breath filling his
lungs. It was a disturbing sensation for him but, as he studied the trio, he
realized it was a good thing. Here, as they took the first steps into a dangerous
land, they would need the skills sharp and the Magic strong.

Bo Fujihara sat watching them,
almost hidden by the heavy cloak he wore. The odor from his pipe was heady and
little puffs escaped his pink lips as he smoked.

The male dog stood behind his sister,
arms folded, defiant and proud. Kirin shook his head. To his knowledge, the dog
had eaten nothing since being delivered up the Wall, neither had he slept. He
wouldn’t last long like this but perhaps that was his aim. Kirin didn’t mind.
One less dog in the world was a worthy goal.

He wondered where his own
brother was.

“Sidi,”
came a voice from
behind, and he did not need turn. He could smell the incense well enough.

“Sidala.”

“I was wondering…”

He would not look.

“…if you would like to meet your
son.”

He did not bring himself to
look. His heart was racing like a young stallion.

“No,” he said.

“He looks like you but with dark
hair,” she went on, unmindful. She always did what she wanted. “Oh yes, and one
golden eye.”

“What are you doing here?” he
asked.

“Hmm. Working.”

He did turn now, steeled himself
against those marvelous eyes, wicked and wise and painted in black.

“Working how? For whom? Jet
barraDunne is dead.”

She pulled the baby up to her
chest, stroked the thick woolen blankets that wrapped him. He remembered the
feel of her hands on him so very long ago, waking senses that had never been
awake before her.

“For Dharma,
sidi,”
she
purred. “For destiny.”

“Riddles,” he growled.

“Of course,” and she smiled and
turned, slipping away towards the circle, throwing him once last glance over
her shoulder, eyes gleaming like beacons in the night.

There was movement in the
circle. It was the girl, the Oracle. She was moaning, rocking back and forth
when suddenly, Sireth benAramis bolted to his feet.

“Captain,” he cried. “Archers!
We—”

They heard the whistle of the
arrow only moments before the Seer was sent backwards onto the rocks.

***

The arrows were tipped with horn
or bone, drilled in places so that the sound of the wind would cause a shrill,
wraith-like shriek. One would set teeth on edge, many would terrify. There were
many flying towards them that night.

The second took down Musaf
Summerdale as he emerged from the new mouth of the mine. The arrow struck him
in the throat and he went down.

The third struck Captain
Li-Hughes as he ordered the rotations of the soldiers that had accompanied them
from
Shen’foxhindi.
The arrow struck him in the back and he went down.

The fourth and fifth struck
Kirin himself, in the shoulder and the chest, but the
osedeh
sent it
ringing off into the snow and the
doh
absorbed the tip in deepest
leather. He staggered at the impact but did not go down.

From high above, the drums
started and guards from the Wall sent down a rain of arrows in response, but it
was dark so the volley was sent wide as a precaution. With a snarl, Major Ursa
Laenskaya pulled both swords from her hips and rushed down the steep incline,
three soldiers at her heels.

“Cover the civilians!” Kirin
called to the remaining soldiers, as he pulled the kabuto down onto his
forehead. “Back, into the mine!”

The whistles were deafening now,
preventing thought and filling even the hardest of hearts with dread. Arrows
shattered off stone, thudded into horses and snowdrifts as soldiers scrambled
to obey. Two more men went down and a cannon boomed from the Wall, lighting the
night sky with fire and causing the distant drifts to erupt with snow and ash.
Howls followed, but the whistling did not stop.

Horses squealed and bolted and
as his soldiers rushed towards the circle with swords drawn, he could hear the
cry of the baby.

Kirin marched to the circle,
hoping to protect them with the sheer bulk of the yori when he spied the dog
with its sister in his arms. She was wailing and thrashing like a madwoman.

“The mine,” he said, and
gestured with his arm for emphasis. “Take her up to the mine! Go!”

The dog whirled and disappeared
and Kirin was grateful for the obedience. He turned to see the Alchemist, baby
clutched to her chest, kneeling beside the monkey and jaguar who were helping
the Seer to his knees. Arrows were thudding into the snow all around them and
there was a shaft protruding from the mongrel’s chest.

“Be still,” said the Alchemist.

“No,” the Seer gasped. “Hands!
Give me your hands! Both of you!”

And he held up his.

Yahn Nevye hesitated.

“Do it!”
Kirin snarled
and they obeyed, Sherah taking one and Nevye quickly pulling his gloves and
dropping them into the snow to take the other.

“We stop the arrows…
as
they fly,” Sireth panted, closing his eyes. “This, like this…”

He could almost feel it, the
power that flowed out from them strong like a river current and suddenly, the
whistling changed as the hail of arrows seemed to strike a wall above them.
Wave after wave shattered, raining bits of bone and splintered shaft onto the
rock and snow all around them. A second boom of the cannon and a third and the
earth erupted far below but the sound seemed to go on and on and on. It was
thunder, he realized, clouds blacker and heavier than the mountains themselves
and lightning flashed across the sky. Kirin shook his head. There was never
thunder in winter. Never lightning. He looked up to the mouth of the mine,
where sparks were gathering.

Kerris.

Sparks were swirling and a roar
of cloud upon cloud as the sky erupted with light, forking and splitting and
reaching to the distant lights of the Legion’s camp. Forking again, down to the
rocks and scrub trees at the base of the plateau where screams were heard then
silenced. Again and again, crack and flash, boom and flash until there were no
screams, there was no whistling and the only lights were the flames of
lightning fire that burned the scrub until it too died in the snow and cold and
the wind.

Kirin looked back over his
shoulder as Kerris dropped to his knees, greyer than the rocks around him.

The clouds stayed, low and
grumbling overhead and he could hear the Major’s voice echoing from valley
below.

“Ensure they are dead. We take
the fight to their camp.”

There was a rustle of wings and
a shape settled onto the snow at his feet. It was an owl. In its talons were
arrows, at least twelve, likely snatched out of the sky the way a falcon might
catch pigeons. It looked past him to the others and cocked its head almost
upside down.

Kirin turned, forgetting it in a
heartbeat.

“Go up,
sidala,”
he
growled to the Alchemist. “Take your baby and get to the mine. Your skills will
be needed tonight.”

“Of course,” and she disappeared
into the shadows of the mountain.

“You too, Ambassador.”

Fujihara shook his head. “I will
gather the horses.”

“No, the horses are soldiers.
They can look after themselves.” Kirin laid a hand on the small shoulders. “You
are more valuable than a thousand horses.”

 
“Don’t let the horses hear you say that,” the monkey said but
he put the pipe in his teeth and turned, trudging up the short distance to the
mouth of the mine.

Kirin bent to slip an arm under
the Seer’s.

“Sidalord
jaguar…”

“Sorry, yes of course.”

Together they helped the Seer to
stand.

“I’m fine, Captain,” Sireth said
but his face was strained in the darkness. “I’m quite familiar with arrows.
Besides, pain…”

“Is simply a matter of
perspective. Yes I know.”

“My gloves!” Nevye turned his
head but Kirin cut him off.

“Your owl can get them,
sidi.
Please concentrate.”

“But he’s not…” Nevye looked at
him, swallowed. “Yes. Yes he can.”

They shouldered the Seer under
their arms and together, staggered up the hillside. They were accompanied by an
owl, carrying gloves.

***

The trees were black against the
snowy ground as Major Ursa Laenskaya slunk toward the Legion camp, moonlight
glinting off her blades. Three soldiers were behind her and she motioned for
them to fan out, circling the remnants of the Legion camp between them. The few
gars were burning, scorch marks rending the snow like the claws of a dragon.
There were weapons scattered on the ground, and the night air smelled of burnt
flesh and fur. A few were moaning.

There was movement behind and
she whirled, bringing the long sword up in time to stop the blow from a
halah’bard that would have split her in two. The strength of it sent her to one
knee and a rough hand swung up to catch her throat, stopping her breath and
forcing her neck back. The dog stepped closer, the odor of him striking like a
fist and she could see him grinning in the moonlight as he pushed the halah’bard
down onto her steel. She fought to keep the katanah steady, fought to keep her
chin up and defiant. She was a warrior, trained and tested and the bane of dogs
for she fought with two swords. In her left hand, the kodai’chi swung like the
strike of a serpent, taking his leg out from under him and sending him falling
backwards into the snow. She sprang on top of him, bringing the katanah down
onto his forehead with a thunk. He twitched beneath her and lay still.