CHAPTER FORTY
WILL OF THE PEOPLE
It felt like no sooner had she closed her eyes than someone was shaking her awake. Sali groaned. “I would kill someone right now to get eight good hours.”
“It’s well into night, Viperstrike,” Samaya said. “I’ll give you a moment to wake.”
Sali nearly rolled over and asked the elder to come back tomorrow when every worry that had been weighing heavily upon on her pricked her mind. She sat up, blinking away the sleep. Her body protested the movement, and she grimaced as she rolled her shoulders. That was when she realized that her armor had been stripped off.
Sali glanced at the doorway and noticed Hampa standing guard at the door. Splayed out on the floor next to him was her scale armor. It had been somewhat cleaned and repaired. He had even managed to pull out some of the damaged scales and work them back in place. Her neophyte had made a few mistakes in its repair and reassembly, but had otherwise done passably at maintaining it. In his defense, it had taken quite a beating during the fight. Stripping her armor while she slept was a little presumptuous, but Sali gave him a pass.
She walked over to a relatively clean water basin and washed her face. “What’s the news outside?”
The elder sat on a broken stool. “By last count, one thousand four hundred thirty-four freed souls made it out of the gates, Viperstrike.”
“How many didn’t make it?”
Samaya turned mournful but nodded appreciatively at Sali. Those in the warrior caste rarely inquired or even cared about civilian casualties. “We lost over fifty at the south gate, and then another hundred forty-six were caught with a wagon and two oxen laden with ground meal within sight of the city walls. Another eighty-four are unaccounted for—either they didn’t make it or they changed their minds. Everyone else made it free, including your surviving warriors from the raid.”
That was one small sliver of good news. “And Mali?”
“Both your sister and the leader of the Kati Underground are at the head of the main group. They are safe for now, with each step taking them closer to the Grass Sea. That is more than I can say for you, Viperstrike.”
That much was true. Sali loosed a resigned sigh. In hindsight, the decision to stay behind could prove to be a fatal one. “How bad is it out there?”
“Like you kicked a hive of acid wasps. I haven’t seen this many soldiers on the street since the day we arrived. Quan Sah has declared martial law over the entire commandery. Every district gate checkpoint is now crewed by an entire squad, and the Kati District has been completely locked down. Pointed hats are going door-to-door harassing and beating people. Half of the army has encircled Sheetan, and the other half is mustering to pursue the exodus. It’ll likely take them no more than three or four days before they depart.”
This was all expected, but Sali had not anticipated the land-chained moving so quickly. Every day she remained in Jiayi was another day the exodus was pulling away without her to protect it. The penalty of breaking indenture was steep. If the Zhuun army caught the exodus, they might not return with survivors.
“I’m going to need our spies to locate the Prophesied Hero again.”
“That would be a problem.” Samaya’s tone sounded more like a negative. “Almost all of them are gone with the rest of the exodus. Those few who remain have limited reach.”
“How am I going to find this boy?”
Samaya considered for a moment. “There are groups of Zhuun that may sell this information. It is their business to know things. I do not know if they will work with Katuia, but I can inquire, if you wish.”
“Do so, if possible. The reemergence of the Hero of the Tiandi takes precedence over everything.” Almost everything.
The elder nodded. “I will do what I can. For now, I believe it would be best if you stayed here out of sight. The pointed hats are taking everyone in. Most who remain are old, are sick, or have willingly shackled themselves. You stand out like a lion in a herd of antelope.”
“Please do so quickly. The longer I stay in Jiayi, the farther away the exodus gets.”
“I will return soon when I have news.” Samaya heart-saluted and ambled to the door.
“Soon” stretched from one night to two. Samaya sent word by the end of the third day that the Zhuun data brokers had rebuffed her inquiry for their services. The silkspinners would not sell information to any Katuia. She would keep trying, however.
By the fourth day, Sali could no longer keep her anxiety at bay. She had little to show for her decision to stay in Jiayi, and was beginning to question her mission altogether. That night, feeling the need to do something, anything, she left the hideout to return to the school to search for clues. However, the pointed hats’ hold on the Katuia District was still tight, with constant checkpoints and patrols on every street, and soldiers on the parapets at every twenty paces. It was far above Sali’s abilities to sneak past the perimeter walls without discovery. The entire district had turned into a prison.
Sali’s already limited choices took an even darker turn when an armed group arrived at her hiding spot the next day to arrest her. What was surprising was who came to take her.
Sali crossed her arms as they flooded the room and surrounded her, their leader entering last. “So this is how it ends, with the mighty defensechief of Nezra carrying water for the land-chained. How did you find me?”
“The Council of Nezra still leads the people here, Sali. Who’s left of them.” In truth, Ariun looked haggard, like he hadn’t slept in days. There was still steel in his eyes though. The man was ready to kill. “Do you know what you’ve unleashed on our people?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“They’re rounding up those who remain: the old, the sick, those innocent to your plot. They’re all being beaten, interrogated, killed even, because of you.”
“My heart aches,” she replied, “but doesn’t that prove my point that our people need to be out from under the boots of the land-chained?”
“We had peace,” he roared. “Stability, order, even prosperity for some.”
“There’s no peace or stability or any of those aspirations for those bound to indentured servitude!”
“Three-quarters.” He paced the floor. “Your so-called exodus led three-quarters of our people to their deaths.”
“Not if they make it back to the Grass Sea.”
Ariun drew a large club from his waist and leveled it at her. “The weight of their deaths will rest on your soul.” The defensechief was a formidable man, especially in cramped quarters and flanked by a dozen guards. Each had made their point. He stepped closer. “Listen, Salminde, the Zhuun are demanding your arrest. Just like offering Sting was the price I had to pay to have a voice for our people, your life will be the price for peace.”
She met his gaze. “Our people in the exodus will need me to survive. Like you said, they are my responsibility.”
“Will you come willingly?” he hissed.
Sali stood firm. “There are greater things at stake, Ariun. Think of it. The Hero of the Tiandi is out there, here, in this city. The next Khan must be found. The exodus needs protection and leadership. Nezra can be reborn. Now is the time to rise, not cower.”
“Turning yourself in is how you can repay those who remain. Come willingly.” The defensechief reached for her tongue.
Sali caught his wrist with one hand and drew her knife with the other. “I will not do the land-chained’s deeds for them, but I will also not come willingly. If you are to hand me over to the Zhuun, then you will hand them only my body. My soul will be free.”
Ariun looked down at the knife in Sali’s hand with the blade aimed back at her.
“You have to be the one to do it, Ariun,” she said, hovering close to his ear. “I hold you blameless.”
Ariun studied the blade for so long she wasn’t sure what to expect. Then he wrapped his large, callused hand around it, gripping it tightly until his fingers turned white. His arms shook. Sali stared intently at his face, waiting for the killing blow.
An eternity passed.
Then Ariun’s body spasmed. He uttered a muffled, pained cry and tossed the knife down on the floor. He swore, pacing the room, occasionally jabbing the air. Sali and the guards stayed still as the leader of the Council of Nezra kicked over a wooden barrel. Finally, after he had expunged his rage, Ariun refocused on the object of his anger. “Promise me you’ll see the exodus to the Grass Sea. Promise me you’ll see them safe. Promise me that Nezra will ride again. All of this!”
“Upon the stars that map the sky, the legacy of my blood: my father Faalsa and my mother Mileene, the continuing strength of the Eternal Khan, and the spirit of our people,” she responded solemnly, “the exodus will see the dawn rise over the Grass Sea again. Nezra’s curved towers will sail once more. Our people will have a home again.”
It took several moments for her words to sink in. She could see the many lines around the defensechief’s eyes quiver and recede, slowly fading to smoothness. He finally nodded. “A person cannot offer more than everything. You better make good on this, Salminde.” He looked around the room. “You should move to our headquarters. We can protect you there. This swamp is a dump. You’ll catch malaria.”
Sali watched, puzzled, as the council guards left one by one. “What happens now, Ariun?”
“What else is there to do? The Zhuun demand a price for the welfare of those who remain, and it still must be paid.”
“No, that isn’t necessary—” she protested.
He cut her off as he turned to leave. “Save your breath. It is done. If your paths ever cross, get Sting from that mangy-faced bastard Quan Sah, and return it to my family.”