Chapter 42

Lord General Rajavaa Daonia expected to hear a good many horrible things from his sister Maralah. She had been the harbinger of terrible news since he was three years old, when she told him their mother had drowned herself in drink and again in the icy river that bordered their equally icy village.

When he saw her face as she descended the thorny spiral of the stairwell in Kuonrada’s drafty main hall now, he recognized the look. The year before, she had borne the same look when she told him that their village had been inundated by foreign invaders with the faces of Dhai. They had butchered what remained of their extended family, including the grandparents who had raised them after their mother’s death.

Maralah was an ugly woman, which was a blessing in her chosen profession, but he still winced when he saw the look on her ugly face. Perhaps it reminded him that he was less handsome than he believed. Or perhaps it just made her death-look more distasteful. He had seen far more distasteful things in the field these last four years, but that face… that face still made him cold.

They met at the bottom of the stair. His best friend and second, Morsaar Koryn, stood with him. Rajavaa rested the flat of his hand against his hip, and canted his pelvis forward. It was a southern affectation he had picked up at parties with titled lords in the south. Maralah turned her nose up at him every time he did it. But if it annoyed her now, she gave no sign.

“Let’s hear it,” he said.

“Alone,” she said.

“Anything you can tell me–”

“Alone,” Maralah said.

Rajavaa sighed and waved Morsaar away. The man grimaced and gave a little bow. Rajavaa knew he’d hear of it later.

“I’ll see that the men are settled in,” Morsaar said.

“Thank you,” Rajavaa said. When he was gone, Rajavaa said to Maralah, “I’m exhausted; can we make this–”

She took his arm, and pulled him to her. She lowered her voice.

“You’re about to become Patron of Saiduan,” she said.

She continued, “Alaar is dead.”

“Who, Maralah? This has your smell on it.” The Patron’s minister of war had been killed six seasons before, and that left the Patron with Maralah as confidant. Rajavaa always wondered if that was her doing or just happy circumstance.

“One of the sanisi.”

“An oath-breaker? Didn’t you cast out the last sanisi to break his vow?”

“Taigan’s indiscretion was very public. In this case, you and I are the only ones to know. We’ve kept it quiet, waiting on your return.”

“No witnesses, then?”

He saw her hesitate. Her large mouth firmed slightly. Just enough.

“No,” she said. “Just me.”

Her, the sanisi, and a dozen slaves, more likely. Rajavaa said, “You do have a way of sitting on the seat without wearing the cowl.”

“I could never harm Alaar,” she said, “but others are not so gutless. He was going to hold our ground here. Kuonrada was to be the final stand.”

“We don’t have enough to hold Kuonrada.”

“I know that. His sanisi know that. I believe he knew it as well. But it’s been a long war, and he wanted to go out at a place of his choosing.”

“So you killed him.”

“No,” Maralah said. “You did.”

“Milk and tits, Maralah, I can’t–”

“We’re purging the harem and nursery now, and eliminating the sanisi who will not follow you. I recommend you marry Arisaa, his favorite. She’s from Anjoliaa. We’ll need them.”

“I can’t be Patron, Maralah.”

“You will,” she said. “Who else is there? It can’t be a sanisi. He only has two adult sons left, and they’re in the far north, already targeted by the invaders. They’ll be dead in a month. They have no army. Your force is the largest standing company we still have, and we can grow it as we retreat south.”

“It’s not the right time,” he said.

“When you see what’s been done upstairs, you’ll disagree,” she said. “His family is already slaughtered. If you don’t take up this mantle now, this hold will descend into chaos, and what remains of the country with it. Divided, we’ll be destroyed in three months. With you to lead us, we could last three years.”

“A year at best.”

“Three, if you take my counsel.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I like breathing too much not to take your counsel.”

“Then we are in agreement.”

“I can’t, Maralah.”

“Lords why? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of it. I’m handing it to you now, Rajavaa. I held this coup for just the right moment. There are people dead upstairs, my people. I have twenty dead women in this harem and forty children–”

Rajavaa stared at Maralah’s bloody boots. She had done it, then. Done the thing she always told him she would. When she was accepted into sanisi training, she told him, “Someday, you will be Patron, and I will be your sanisi.” A lifetime ago. It was her idea to leave their village together, to travel to far-off Caisau to become sanisi. He had failed the training – he was not gifted – and joined the military instead. Not because he had a passion for it, but because he needed to eat.

Someday, you will be Patron…

He had never doubted it. He prepared for it. His men loved him. They flocked to him like bees to honey. He loved them like a father, a brother, a lover, a friend. He was all things to them. But he had not anticipated this long war of attrition and what it would do to the country and to him. For the last decade, he had marched them to their deaths each day and drowned himself in drink every night, just like his mother.

“I have the rot, Maralah.”

Her grip on his arm tightened. “You don’t,” she said.

He showed his teeth. “They tell me it’s the drink,” he said. “Blew out my guts. No way to fix it until Tira’s ascendant, and I won’t last that long.”

“How long?” she said.

“A year, maybe two,” he said.

“That’s long enough.”

“I’ll be vomiting blood before the end,” he said. He pulled his arm away.

She leaned into him. Pressed her forehead to his, the way she had when they were children. “I can get it fixed,” she said. “If I tell you I can fix it, will you do it?”

He choked on a laugh. “You’re mad. There’s no way to–”

“We have omajistas. I have one out on an assignment who can fix it.”

“Lords, you don’t mean Taigan?”

“Alaar is dead,” she said, “so it’s up to you to pardon Taigan. I give you a few extra years, and you spend that time keeping our people together. What’s it hurt, if you weren’t even going to have those years anyway?”

“You would call him to help even if I wasn’t going to be Patron.”

“Would I?” she said.

Her tone chilled him. “You insult me,” he said. “When have you ever had to threaten me?”

“These are dark times, brother.”

“And you need my army.”

“Saiduan needs your army.”

Rajavaa closed his eyes. He could not bear to look at her face so close. It reminded him too much of their mother’s face. He wondered if that was what made it so ugly.