“… and twenty gold, deposited anonymously to the account of Zasha zen-Tirnun of Dul Misishi, over the next six months. Random intervals, random amounts.”

“Twenty gold,” Jushur repeated. The acolyte next to him made a note.

“You can afford it,” Ram insisted.

“I know we can,” said the Lugal. “We spend more than that on paper. Consider it done. What else?”

Ram paused to think it over. He’d already arranged amnesty for Mana and his family, restoration of all Urapu’s survivors, and a promise to look into Busu’s whereabouts, since Jushur had no idea if Ram’s old militia companion was alive. The rest of the company had been broken up and reassigned to other groups by twos and threes, their housing relocated to buildings scattered around the pyre. He’d ask to go and visit, but how much time would he have, and what would he have to say to then, after all that had happened?

They’d gotten everything else they’d asked for so far—or almost everything. Twenty minutes into this meeting, after haggling her way to a staggering fifty-gold fee for the Damadzus, Darun had demanded a terrush as well, trained and housebroken, with a jeweled saddle. The Lugal had promptly ordered her out, and she’d strolled out giggling.

Now there were six of them in the Palace council chamber, sitting down together at a table built to hold at least a score. Ram sat between Imbri and Shazru on one side, opposite Jushur, Piridur, and the eunuch scribe. A pair of flamekeepers waited outside the door, equipped with common swords, but otherwise the Lugal and his son had made no hint of a threat.

So, what else? Ram knew what he really wanted: to have the warrant publicly revoked, and the truth proclaimed throughout the pyre. But even if Jushur agreed to it—and Ram doubted he would—word would inevitably spread to Zasha. Darun said she hadn’t told Piridur about the ban on cooperating with Karagene authorities; presumably they thought it was a simple shakedown. Maybe they wondered why he wasn’t demanding more.

Let them wonder. “I guess that’s it, for now.”

“Do let us know if you think of anything else,” Jushur said, with just a trace of irony. “In the meantime, to business. Young lady, I am told you are of partial Moonchild heritage. I take it you can open the gates?”

“Yes. I did it for the Damadzus. But I can’t do a crowd by myself.”

“I wouldn’t expect so, no. We wouldn’t want a large expedition, in any case; supply would be burdensome, and we have no hope of threatening the Ensi with numbers. This expedition will be aimed at persuasion. What would be your upper limit?”

“Hard to say. I can handle five, obviously, including myself. Six or seven, I could cope. But I couldn’t do ten safely.”

“That shouldn’t be necessary. We will need you and Ram. Piridur will come as well, to represent the pyre. For the rest, we can be flexible.”

“Bal, too,” Imbri said. “We’ll want him.”

“Really.” Jushur cocked his head to one side. “May I ask why?”

“He’s Jackal—his old owner got him off Moonchildren, who caught him on a deep raid. He knows how to get by in the wild better than anyone you have.”

“He’s also more dangerous than anyone we have,” Piridur pointed out. “I don’t think we’ll have to go to the deep desert; skybarques have limited range and none of our quarry has any experience outside of the Dominion.”

“He’ll still be useful; we relied on him a lot in the old days. And he’s more stable than you think.”

“If you want to risk it, fine,” Piridur said. “That makes four. Master Shazru?”

“I am willing to continue my services as a physician, if you are willing to have me. I am no Jackal, but have ample experience roaming the desert as well. The hazards are numerous.”

“That just leaves Darun,” Ram said.

“Who will not be coming,” Jushur said at once. “She has no relevant or useful abilities—we have no need for a saleswoman, pickpocket, or courtesan—and behaves disruptively and impulsively. We cannot risk having her along.”

“She’s part of the team, though,” Ram said. Jushur had a point, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind. He was pretty sure she’d like it even less.

“She was part of the team,” Piridur said. “A critical part, I’m sure, when it came to sales. I hope she’ll play it again some day. She’s welcome to her fee for the inconvenience, and she’ll be treated very well at Dul Karagi, but Father is right: we can’t take her with us. This is too important.”

“But you’re willing to take Bal, and he’s—“ Imbri laid a warning hand on his arm, and he stopped.

“That’s not what this is really about, Ram,” she said quietly. “They want a hostage.”

Ram’s breath caught in his throat. “Is that right?” he murmured back. Not that the men across the table couldn’t hear them perfectly well.

“It’s a time-honored part of diplomacy, Ram,” Piridur explained. “When two pyres don’t trust each other—which they usually don’t—they exchange family members as guarantees. Darun would be your equivalent. We have no intention of harming or even threatening the girl.”

“Provided I behave,” Ram added, in the blandest tones he could manage.

“Yes, of course,” Jushur said impatiently. “If you don’t, the situation will go badly for all of you, regardless of where you are. I myself spent three blooms at Dul Natati, when I was a young man; I met my first wife there. Piridur likewise, at Tenzen. This is practically a rite of passage for men and women of the upper classes, and it would be ridiculous to take it as some kind of insult.”

“But you didn’t mention it till now,” Ram noted, “after Darun left.”

“Because we are not fools,” Jushur said. “I barely know her, but it’s clear enough that everything goes more smoothly in her absence.”

“I would be your hostage, Ram,” Piridur said. “In the company of Shimrun and his handmaidens, with no soldiers at my side, I would be at your mercy. So Dul Karagi would never think of harming your … consort, even if we had reason.”

“The thing is, I didn’t agree to any of this. What if I’m not willing to leave her behind? What if she isn’t willing to stay?”

“Then you will be confined to the pyre until you change your minds, or until the situation becomes untenable and we are forced to change your minds for you,” the Lugal said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table. “The lives of thousands are at stake. We can’t allow that to hinge on your whims.”

“I’m not planning to let the fire go out. I’m just not going to let you make my plans for me.”

“We’re not interested in leaving the pyre in the hands of a boy, Ram.”

“You mean you’re not interested in leaving it to anyone but yourselves.”

“It works out to the same thing,” Jushur said. “You aren’t as indispensable as you seem to think, young man. The Ensi will find it very difficult to go beyond a limited range from this spot, or to feed the group he has with him without drawing attention to himself. Your cooperation will make it quicker, and you’ll have our gratitude, but if you insist on acting the stubborn fool we will get what we need without you, and you will suffer the consequences when time permits.”

“Darun will get over it, Ram,” Imbri said. “She always does.”

Ram wasn’t sure she would. But that was only half the problem. “It’s not about Darun,” he said. “Or not just about her. I’ve told you, Piridur, I’m not your bondsman.”

“Let me make certain that I understand you correctly, Rammash,” said Shazru. “You are not quite sixteen blooms old. Your life experiences consist of assisting with masonry, slightly less than a bloom in the militia, and two months of low-budget travel. You are in a predicament because you volunteered for a task without knowing its nature, beyond its being generally subversive and dangerous. The leaders of this pyre would like your cooperation in resolving this predicament for your mutual benefit, and you are upset that they are not doing so on your terms. Is that the shape of things?”

Just whose side was he on? “I’m done with being pushed around, is all. Jushur, are you willing to give me any say at all in what goes on here?”

If the Lugal was annoyed at being addressed that way by a boy less than a third his age, he hid it well. “I will listen to your ideas, certainly. Do you have an alternative way for us to guarantee your good behavior, once you are out of the pyre and unsupervised?”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Ram pushed his chair back from the table. “I’m not giving you any guarantee of anything,” he said.

“Where are you going?” Imbri asked.

“Not far.” Just to the window behind them. He leaned on the sill, and stared at the Temple light. The plaza below had only one man in it, loitering by the pool. He looked out of place, staying outdoors on white day, but then he always looked strange. Staring into a dirty pool full of cracked bits of statuary was more or less normal for Bal.

“You need to think this through, Ram,” Imbri said, at his elbow. “This wouldn’t be the end of the world. Darun wouldn’t like it, but she’d live, and have plenty of money when she came out the other side.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like her,” he shot back.

“No, I don’t like her, but I know her better than you do. She’ll be safer here, and get to eat good food, wear clean clothes, sleep in, all the things she used to bitch about missing on the trail.”

She wouldn’t be safer here, of course—he’d have to turn on the Lugal sooner or later, for his parents’ sake—but he could hardly say so right then and there. “I’m tired of people trying to put pressure on me. First Zasha, now this. And do you know what they did to those kids in the Temple?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” she said. “But I don’t think this about the kids in the Temple, or what Darun wants. I think this is about you wanting to keep your bed warm. This isn’t the time for that, Ram. Think with the right head.”

“Please. You barely know me at all.” Didn’t know Darun all that well, even, if she thought it would be fine. The girl had been running away for the past four blooms of her life; what would it do to her, to be caught in a trap she couldn’t get out of, with no power over her own fate? “I promised her we’d be together from now on.”

“How sweet. But you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t.” He reached in his pocket and drew out a little red napkin he’d filched from the breakfast table that morning. “Or maybe I should try harder to keep the promises I make.” He hesitated only a moment before tossing the napkin out the window. It fluttered to the pavement below; one of the flamekeepers guarding the door came to investigate, and Ram ducked back far enough that the man couldn’t see him if he looked up.

“Am I going to regret taking you up on this partnership?”

Bal turned away from his contemplation and made for the Temple at a jog. Ram was almost disappointed; part of him had hoped he could take it back. Too late now. “You might. Be sure you stick around until it’s all over, though.” He turned back from the window, took off his shirt, and started wrapping it around his left forearm.

Piridur stared. “Ram, do you mind telling us what you’re doing?”

“Getting ready for a fight.” He hefted one of the chairs; he could lift it one-handed, but he’d need two to control the bulk of it.

Jushur twisted in his chair and rapped his knuckles on the door behind him. “Dezri! Nishal!”

“If I was going to jump you, I’d have done it already,” Ram said, as the two flamekeepers rushed into the room. “The shirt’s just in case you do something desperate. Nusun’s on his way.”

“Nusun won’t leave his post,” Piridur said. “He never has.”

“He will for me,” Ram said. “After what you said last night, I went back this morning to ask him if he’d had words with Shimrun before he left. Turns out he did. He knows I’m the En now, and recognizes my authority. He’ll come if I ask him to, and I just did.”

“So he’s coming,” Piridur said. “To do what?”

“If I don’t give him the all-clear, he’s under orders to kill both of you, and anyone who gets in his way.”

The Lugal and his son could only gawk.

“Just as hard as a normal murrush to kill,” Ram went on, with relish. “Plus he’ll heal like I do. Fireproof too, not that your handmaidens could attack him anyway. He’s slow, but it’s white day, and you’ve got nowhere to run. So tell me, how badly do you two want to keep your hostage?”

“This is appallingly rash,” Shazru said. One of the two flamekeepers edged around the table to look out the window, then stumbled back, his face distinctly pale; Ram didn’t need to look to confirm that a haranu was making its way slowly down towards them from the Temple door.

“I didn’t want to do it. I gave them a choice. They refused it, so we’re doing this the hard way.”

“Ram,” Imbri said, “please, please tell me this is just an incredibly tacky joke. Please tell me you are not actually this big of a jackass.”

“Not a joke, no. Don’t let the smile fool you, Jushur, I’ve never been more serious.”

“Ram,” Piridur said, “you’re not yourself right now. You’re worse than drunk. This close to the fire, the spirit in you will be very powerful. That confidence you’re feeling? It isn’t you. You’re doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous.”

“I can hear the spirit just fine, Piridur. It says you’re a pack of liars, traitors, and thieves. And I agree. This pyre’s mine. I’ll be paying for it, which means I bought it, and until one of you bastards can say the same you’ve got no right to tell me what I’m going to do. If I’m going to die, I’ll do it as master of this pyre, if I have to see you both dead first.”

Jushur buried his face in his hands. “This is insane.”

“Keep talking, old man, if that’s all you’re good for. You’ve got a while before Nusun gets here, but not too long; he’s halfway to the plaza now. Yield or die. It’s that simple.”

“If you recall, Ram, I said we kept the ensis on a leash for a reason. You’re giving us an excellent illustration of that.”

“You keep us down because you’re all parasites who do nothing useful, and we’d get rid of you if you gave us a chance. I’m being merciful here.”

“You say ‘us,’” Piridur noted, “but it’s the Ensi’s own fault that you’re in this situation at all. He destroyed Urapu as well. What have we done to harm you, compared to that?” His words and voice were calm, but Ram could see the sweat on his forehead.

“The murrush is indeed approaching,” Shazru said, looking out the windows, then at the door behind the Lugal. It was the only way out, and the flamekeepers were blocking it. The men themselves seemed to realize as much, and were eyeing the door still more anxiously themselves. Nusun wouldn’t fit through it, but he might not need to. With the pyre’s strength backing him up, he could probably gouge and burn his way through the building itself, like a worm through a ripe fruit.

“What do you want, boy?” Jushur said at last, laying his hands flat on the table. “To have your concubine come with you? Is that all?”

“For now. You know, if Nusun burns you alive, you’ll get a valuable perspective on—“

“Shut your mouth. If that is how it must be, very well. The girl goes too.”

“Glad to see you can be reasonable.” He poked his head out the window; Nusun was just coming around the pool. “False alarm!” Ram shouted. “Sorry! We might need you later, though.” The murrush halted, considered a moment, and turned around to march back the way he came without a word of complaint. Just in time; it would have been embarrassing, if the Lugal learned Nusun had only agreed to come and testify about Shimrun’s escape.

Ram put his shirt back on and sat in his chair as though nothing had happened. “Good thing he’s so patient, huh? Where were we?”

The Lugal took several deep breaths before speaking. “I’m sure you think you’re very clever. Have you considered what will happen when you don’t have a murrush at hand to threaten us with?”

“Yes, I have. The Ensi will know if I die, and we’ve already come to terms about what to do if that happens,” Ram lied. “You don’t want to find out. So save your threats. I’m in charge now, not you.”

Jushur shook his head, then pushed himself back from the table and limped out the door. The flamekeepers and acolyte went with him. His son lingered long enough to say, “It takes more than a death every ten blooms to keep a pyre running, Ram. There will be consequences for this.” Then he, too, was gone.

“I don’t know if you’ve been around Darun too long,” Imbri announced as the door shut behind him, “or if she went with you because you were this crazy in the first place. Asshole.”

“Assholes run the Dominion, Imbri. You know that. I’m just trying to play my part right.”