The black capsules grew sweaty in her hand; she changed hands and wiped the sweaty one surreptitiously on her overtunic. Over half done. Tivo capsules for every Owlyn child. Kori didn’t feel like a child any more; she wanted this to be over with so she could get back to Owlyn and get her life in some sort of order again. Maybe because she was so tired, she wasn’t much worried this time, not for herself anyway; so many important things had happened to her the past two months, she felt bone deep sure the Lot would pass over her, one more thing would be just too much. She watched the girls file past her going to take their places on the bench and wondered which of them would get the blue lot and be kept here in the Yron, then wondered which one would get the gold, would it be a boy or a girl this time? If I had a choice, she thought, I’d take the gold, how terribly exciting to go so far away. Havi Kudush. A wonderful magical name, it stirred desires in her she didn’t want to deal with and had to keep pushing away. She gazed down at the enigmatic black eggs. The capsules each had a ball of lead inside them, most were simply gray, one was painted blue; the girl who got that one stayed at the Yron to study as a teacher or if her tastes and talents ran that way, to serve as one of the temple whores. Kori’s mouth twitched. She fought her face straight and swallowed the smile. Polatea would scold her for saying whore, but that’s what they were, those that called themselves Fields of Amortis, plowed and replowed those fields if the gossip she heard was true. Gahh, that was almost as bad as that girl in the tavern. One of the balls in the boys’ bowl was painted red, the boy that got that one went to the army to learn a soldier’s trade or into the Yron schools to study how to Serve. But the gold yolk, oh the gilt one, the child who got the gilt one went to Havi. Kudush and did wonderful things, she was sure of it. Have a golden yolk, she thought at the black things in her hands, if you can’t have the good old safe and steady leaden gray, have a golden yolk. She glanced quickly around, lowered her eyes again. I couldn’t stand it if I had to stay here.
Sarana Piyolss, the baby of the line walked past her. The drawing’s over for this year, Kori thought. Now we find out who got the colors. Two doors opened beside the High Seat, two small processions filed down the narrow steps slanting from both sides of the high dais, first a Servant dressed in white linen, white leather sandals, short white gloves, then a boy and a girl, also dressed in white, carrying a wide shallow basket between them.
Deep silence in the court, a sense of almost intolerable waiting. One servant stopped before Sparran, the other before Dessi. Their movements slow and measured, as close to synchronized as a good marching team, they took the capsules from Sparran, from Dessi, opened them. Together both the Servants intoned NO and let capsules and lead balls fall into the basket. They moved to the next in line, repeated their movements, repeated the NO, then the Servant on the girls ‘ side stood before Kori. His face impassive, he took the damp capsules before her, broke one. A plain lead ball rolled on the palm of the white glove; he broke the second capsule. A blue ball, nestled next to the gray.
Kori stared at it, unable to believe what she saw. She lifted her eyes. HE was looking at her. You, she thought, you did it to me on purpose. She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. What could she prove? Nothing. She’d just bring trouble on her kin if she protested. She glared up at the huge dark man on the High Seat. I’ll get out of this somehow, she thought fiercely, I will, you can’t beat me so easy as that.
You aren’t stupid are you, little ferret. Yes, it was me did that to you. I doubt you’ll ever thank me for it, but you should. I hated old Grigoros when he sold me to the House, but he did me a favor. He smiled as Kori dropped her eyes to clenched hands when the Servant shouted BLUE; when he pushed it at her, she took the blue ball with angry reluctance, then sat staring at the floor, refusing to look at Maksim or anyone else until the RED and GOLD were announced. He saw her shoulders tremble; she turned her head, glared up at him again, but this time there was a triumph in her face and eyes that he didn’t understand. What have I missed? There’s more to you than I thought, warrior girl. What is it? I will know, child, in the end I will know. He got heavily to his feet and stood watching as the Servants led the chosen children (two boys and the girl) up the stairs to stand beside him. He could feel the heat of her anger, the intensity of the effort she was making to keep silent.
He lifted his hands. “It is done.” His voice rolled out and filled the court. “Honor the chosen and their lives of service, honor yourselves for the grace of your compliance. For three days the city is yours, rejoice and be content.”
He watched them file out. The youngest boy kept turning to look up at the chosen, anguish in his face; he stumbled against the boy ahead of him, but straightened himself without help and went stiffly out the door. Maksim glanced at the girl and saw an echo of that anguish in her face. Your brother, is it? Is that why the triumph, that he was passed over this year? I will know. But not now. He bowed he head in a stately salute to the children, but he didn’t speak to them, merely made a sign for them to be taken away. He stood at the balustrade looking out over the empty court until the last sounds faded, rubbing absently at his chest. He had to be at Deadfire Island when the boy arrived, but that was a good six hours off and he wasn’t sure how he wanted to pass those hours. He needed sleep. He had to listen to Todichi Yahzi report on the activities of the council he’d assembled and decide who he wanted to add or delete, what other changes he needed to make. He had to take a look at the blank spot and see if Baby Dan had moved himself and the others out of Silagamatys which would mean he could turn Amortis loose on them. He tapped long fingers on the marble, irritated by the hurry of all this, then snapped to his workroom to start with the easiest and most urgent of the things he had to do.
10. Fighting Their Way To The Chained God: Brann, Yaril, Jaril, Ahzurdan And Daniel Akamarino, With Some Help From Tungjii And The Godalau.
SCENE: Daniel Akamarino finds a ship for them, discomforting Ahzurdan who is locked into the room because he can’t leave the wards without endangering himself and the rest of them. On the ship Skia Hetaira traveling between Silagamatys and Haven.
“Had a bit of luck.” Daniel Akamarino squatted by the beggar, held out the wineskin. “Found me a patron.”
“Aah.” The old man squeezed a long stream of the straw gold wine into his toothless mouth, broke the flow withdut losing a drop. He wiped his mouth, handed the skin back. “An’t swallowed drink like that sin’ one night of Parast Tampopopea got drunk’s a skink and busted six kegs in the Ti’ma Dor.”
“Luck,” Daniel said and smiled. He squirted himself a sip, chunked the stopper home. “Quiet day.”
“Some. Lot day. Come afternoon, it’ll perk up. You thinkin about a pitch?”
“Nuh-uh. Patron wants to sail tonight. She hates fuss, she wants to go out like a whisper.”
“Aah.” The old man’s warty eyelids flickered, the tip of a pointed whitish tongue touched his upper lip, withdrew. “A like the way you play that pipe.
“I hear.” Daniel slid the carrystrap of the wineskin over his shoulder, shifted out of his squat and brought out the recorder. He looked at it, thought a minute and began playing a slow rambling bluesy tune that made no demands but slid into the bone and after a while took over enough to bring crowds drifting around them. He ended it, raised a brow. The old man closed his eyes to slits and looked sleepy. Daniel laughed, played a lively jig, then put the recorder away. The small crowd snapped fingers enthusiastically, but Daniel was finished for the moment, at least until they paid something for their pleasure. He sat as stolid and sleepy as the old beggar. With a flurry of laughter, they tossed coins into the begging bowl and wandered off, some returning to their stalls, others drifting about looking for bargains.