Tivi's Dagger (8 page)

“
Sex grin?” I was about to protest,
but there was no point. Lana knew me better than anyone in the
world, and had seen my sex-grin for herself some years previously
when we were together. She yanked Kari’s headband off and tied it
around his neck.

“
You should hide that bite too, unless
Methar boasts insects with such teeth.”

Kari looked mortified but I gave him a
reassuring slap on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“
Promise me you’ll be careful,” Lana
said, tucking the pouch back into her pocket. “There are limits to
how long I can keep your brother talking, such are his
conversational skills. If it were not for his desire to guard that
box, he would have come looking for you himself.”

The thought of being caught in such a
position by Brin was a sobering one. As we made our way back to the
pilgrim’s rest, I considered the madness that had struck me in the
clearing. Lana was right. I would have to be far more careful. But
what lay ahead was thrilling all the same.

***

After leaving the Pilgrim’s Rest, our path
veered sharply upwards once more, diverging from the seemingly
well-travelled road beside the river. Our bellies were comfortably
full from the delicious stew Kari had managed to produce from such
innocuous ingredients. As dusk began to advance, Brin paused by a
stream to allow the donkey to drink. “Why are we taking this
detour?” he barked at Kari, who — since our encounter in the woods
— had been strolling along with a dreamy expression on his face and
saying little, which gave me a slight cause for panic. Brin was not
unobservant, although his mind was clearly focused on his own
troubles. I’d noticed more than once how his fingertips would trace
circles over the site of the brand on his chest as if he was trying
to brush it away, or check that it was still there.

“
We cannot sleep under the stars as
you had originally wished,” Kari said. “There is a temple at the
top of this mountain, where we will be safe.”

“
But it adds a half-day to our
journey.”

“
Better a half-day more than…” Kari
looked at his feet. “Perhaps you do not know it, Brindar. It is
rumored that the Night Walkers have returned, commanded across the
border from the un-named land by the remnants of the Blood
Red.”

Brin let out an exasperated noise. “Night
Walkers? The Blood Red? Bah! Nothing but superstitious nonsense and
fairy tales. Do you seriously expect me to believe there is still
necromancy in the world? Such practices have been unheard of and
proscribed this hundred-year, and those warlords are long in their
graves.”

“
I do not expect you to do anything
but trust me,
tiyal
. I know
this land, and you do not.”

“
You’ve barely ventured out of that
Temple.”

“
You’ve never been to Methar at
all.”

Brin looked furious, and Lana grinned. “I
think he has you there, Brindar. Telthor’s balls, let us move!
Perhaps there will be another bathing pool ahead where we can get
you naked again. My eyes are suddenly craving the pleasing sight of
man flesh, amidst all this wearisome greenery.”

“
Woman, I swear by the Thirteen…” Brin
began through clenched teeth, but Lana was already striding up the
path, daggers swinging jauntily at her hips.

“
Night Walkers, indeed.” Kel said, as
we brought up the rear. “I have read of such things in my
studies.”

“
What are they?” I had one eye on
Kari’s firm buttocks as he followed Lana up the path
ahead.

“
The living dead, raised by a terrible
spell which pulls a fragment of the soul back from Paradise, enough
only to animate the body. It’s said that they walk only at night
because if they were to catch their reflection in the light of day
the shock would send the fragment rushing back to whence it came,
and the spell would be broken. After the theft of the Treaty of
Khar Tam, which led to the Second Splintering, the warlords of the
Blood Red raised Night Walkers as soldiers, a nigh-invincible army
to march against the city itself. Not surprisingly, it fell fast to
their advance. For what can kill that which is already dead?” He
heaved his pack more firmly onto his shoulders with a grimace. “At
least, that’s the theory. The Protectors would now have us believe
that such things never existed at all and that Khar Tam fell
because the King was a heretic, punished by the Thirteen for his
wickedness.”

“
If the Protectors deny the story,
then it must be true. By the Gods, what an appalling spell!” Giving
Kel my full attention at last, I contemplated who on earth would
ever have come up with such a ghastly use for magic. “And what need
for it? It’s not as though any warlord cannot find enough idle
young men with a thirst for battle and glory, who can walk in the
day as well as the night.”

“
True, but mortal men need to sleep
and can be injured, whereas Night Walkers cannot. In daylight hours
it’s said that the animated body falls to the ground, a mere corpse
once more. You may bury it or burn it, it matters not. The thing
will rise once again when the sun is down, as long as the bones
remain unscattered.”

I shivered. “It’s a dark magic you speak of,
indeed. I hope Brin is correct, that we may never see such a
thing.”

“
If there is one thing that history
teaches us consistently, it’s that men have ever committed dark and
wicked acts in the pursuit of power. Necromancy is truly the worst
kind of abomination: black magic of old, long since forbidden in
Lis. That’s one thing we should thank the Protectors for,
certainly.”

“
The
only
thing,” I grumbled, puffing harder as the
incline grew steeper. “What do you know of these caverns we’ll pass
through?”

Kel shrugged. “Nothing, sadly. It’s hard
enough these days to find a text about Khar Tam that the Protectors
haven’t already revised. I was not aware that anything lay beneath
the ruins but rock. But we’ll see, won’t we? This pilgrimage will
be an excellent supplement to my education, I’m sure of it!”

Barely able to catch my breath, I
scowled once more at the thought of all the tiresome trudgings
ahead. “By all the Gods, why did these people have to build all
their temples at the
top
of
mountains?”

“
Actually, that’s a very interesting
observation, Ned. The founding of holy sites atop mountains is a
phenomenon across history and cultures. Many argue it is because
the believers wish to be closer to their gods, whereas some
scholars have postulated…”

I sighed and returned my attention to Kari’s
backside, instantly regretting my throwaway question. Kel was not
much of a believer but he was a passionate scholar of his subject
and often assumed erroneously that nearby listeners shared his
interests.

When we finally reached the top of the path,
Kari paused at the feet of another statue of Matativi to pray. Brin
looked irritated by the delay and rested against the donkey
wearily. I took a deep lungful of the cool air and looked around.
The Temple was much like the first one we had visited, only a lot
smaller and slightly shabbier. The same pale birds were nesting
under the rafters of the sloping roof and several goats were
tethered to a fence under a sprawling tree.

I looked at the statue and was struck by how
different it was to the others I’d seen.

What had been a wistful half-twist of the
lips was a wide, sunny smile. There were soft dimples in her cheeks
and the eyes were slightly lidded, the neck angled slightly as if
Matativi was looking down from her plinth and right at me. The hand
clasped over her heart was slightly opened in a gesture of sharing.
“This is a much nicer statue than the other ones,” I remarked,
overcome with a stupid urge to smile back at the blind eyes.

“
What are you talking about?” Brin
scoffed. “It’s exactly the same.”

“
No, it’s
not
. Look at her smile, it’s…bigger.”

“
Rubbish. You may be in need of an
eye-glass, brother.” He folded his arms and tapped his foot on the
ground, gazing into the mist that was descending on the nearby
temple from the peak above.

Kari had finished his prayers. He stood up
and turned to me, grinning. “All the statues are generally carved
to the same specifications, Ned. Your brother is correct. Perhaps
it is simply your perspective that is different.”

I stared at the statue, baffled.

“
Now Kari,” Kel began. “It’s something
I’ve been meaning to ask you since we started out on this
pilgrimage. Your deity has two faces and is represented by two
different names. Is she one entity with two faces or two entities
in one? The texts at my university are…unenlightening.”

Kari was beaming with pleasure. “I would be
most happy to tell you of our Lady when we have time to pause. If
you like, you may also read the Book of Matativi, which I carry in
my pack. Unfortunately it is written in an obsolete Methari
dialect, which may require some explanation.”

Kel rubbed his hands together in an
explosion of academic glee. “Oh, you mean Lishmenthar? I have
studied what I could from the fragments that remain in the
archives. By the Gods, what an opportunity! Thank you, Kari. I look
forward to it.”

“
You had better keep your
opportunities
to yourself when we
return to Lis,” Brin said, scowling. “The penalty for sharing
knowledge of a heretical text is ten years in the Protectors’
prison.”

Kari turned his smile on my brother
with a hard glint in his eyes. “You had better watch what you name
as heresy in this land,
tiyal
.”

To my astonishment and delight, my brother
swallowed and muttered an apology. It was a wonderful moment and I
gazed at Kari with something akin to hero worship for handing me
the rare opportunity to watch Brin squirm. Kel, obviously
uncomfortable, fingered the blue blossoms that spilled from glasses
at the statue’s feet.

“
What’s the significance of these
flowers?” he asked, clearly hoping to lighten the mood.

“
We call them
Mataya Kari
, Mata’s blessing. They grow in the
darkness, on barren soil and even on stony ground, just as love can
touch the bleakest of hearts.”

“
Remarkable!” Lana exclaimed. “They’re
beautiful. And is that where your name comes from?”

“
Indeed,” Kari said. “Come, it grows
dark. I will announce our presence to the Mother or Father of this
monastery. And Brindar, I would suggest you guard your tongue more
closely. While we are much more relaxed about many things than the
Protectors, the penalty for blasphemy in this land is as harsh as
it is in Lis.”

Again Brin squirmed; again I rejoiced.

Sometime later we were ensconced in
another austere room at the back of the Temple to share dinner with
the Father of the monastery. He spoke little of the common tongue,
and spent most of the meal asking Kari questions. The food was
simple but delicious. Beautifully served on trays on small ceramic
dishes, there was a selection of crunchy roots, delicately pickled
and sweet, brown beans in a thick sauce, and a bowl of fluffy mash
with the aroma of jasmine. Again I heard the same phrases as
before:
tiyallan, Thar Mati, kath
mai
. At the mention of the last one, the old monk drew
a line across his heart.

“
We speak of the Night Walkers,” Kari
explained. “He is asking if we have encountered any so
far.”

Then the wine was served and I thought no
more of such terrible things. We held our glasses to the sky and
drank, and I sighed with contentment. Brin was behaving himself
well and even forced himself to have a second glass. The monks were
generous with the alcohol and by the time the meal was done, the
old man began to fan himself and unraveled the silver from his head
to give us a toothless smile, his lips darkened with wine. His
ears, like Mother Kiti’s, sagged with the weight of rings and his
skin was leathery and heavily wrinkled.

I noticed Kari fingering his own earlobe and
addressing the Father with a grin, to which the old man responded
with a hearty laugh and a slap on the back and a barrage of rapid
Methari. Kari looked exquisite at that moment, his face illuminated
by candlelight, so happy and peaceful. I crunched the last of my
pickles and sighed with contentment.

“
Father Koli bids you welcome, and
wishes you peace in your dreams,” Kari said eventually, standing
up. “I’ll lead you now to where we are to sleep. A donation to the
Temple would be most welcome. In the morning, I’ll show you where
to make it.”

There was no pool, I was sorry to note, but
while we were eating the monks had filled a bath tub in a tiled
room. One by one, we scrubbed off the dirt of the day and sluiced
ourselves with a nearby bucket before taking some minutes just to
lie up to our earlobes in the hot water and allow the soreness to
float from our muscles. As I watched the candlelight flicker over
the tiles — beautifully decorated with intricately painted blue
flowers — I was finally glad to be exactly where I was. The customs
of the people of Methar were genuinely fascinating and wonderful to
me.

My tongue loosened by wine and heat, I
shared my observations as we prepared ourselves for sleep, all five
of us crammed into that small room on thick mattresses that smelled
of straw.