"Was that all?" asked Mon.
"Not at all. You see, when the voice of the people went against Ilihiak, he came here."
"To ask for help? Did he really think Father would impose him as judge on the Zenifi? Ilihiak was the one who decided to let the people vote-let him live with what they voted for!"
"Exactly right, Mon," said Bego, "but of course Ilihiak would be the first to agree with you. He didn't come here in order to get power. He came because he was finally free of it."
"So he's an ordinary citizen," said Mon. "What was his business with the king?"
"He doesn't need to have business, you know," said Bego. "Your father took a liking to him. They became friends."
Mon felt a stab of jealousy. This stranger who had never even known Father's name till Monush found him six months ago was Father's friend, while Mon languished as a mere second son, lucky to see his father once a week on any basis more personal than the king's council.
"But he did have business," said Bego. "It seems that after Ilihiak's father was murdered-"
"A nation of regicides-and now they've elected a would-have-been regicide as their governor."
"Yes yes," said Bego impatiently. "Now it's time to listen. After Nuab was murdered and Ilihidis became king-"
"Dis-Ilihi? Not the heir?"
"The people chose the only one of Nuab's sons who hadn't run away when the Elemaki invaded. The only one with any courage."
Mon nodded. He hadn't heard about that. A second son inheriting on the basis of his merit.
"Don't have any fantasies about that" said Bego. "Your older brother is no coward. And it ill becomes you to wish for him to be deprived of his inheritance."
Mon leapt to his feet in fury. "How dare you accuse me of thinking any such thing!"
"What second son doesn't think it?"
"As well I might assume that you're jealous of bGo's great responsibilities, while you're only a librarian and a tutor for children!"
It was Bego's turn to be furious. "How dare you, a mere human, speak of my otherself as if you could compare your feeble brotherhood with the bonds between otherselves!"
They stood there, eye to eye. For the first time, Mon realized, eye to eye with Bego meant that Mon was looking down. His adult height was beginning to come. How had he not noticed till now? A tiny smile came to his lips.
"So, you smile," said Bego. "Why, because you succeeded in provoking me?"
Rather than confess the childish and selfish thought that had prompted his smile, Mon invented another reason, one which became true enough as soon as he thought of it. "Can a student not smile when he provokes his teacher into acting like a child?"
"And I was going to talk to you about genuine matters of state."
"Yes, you were," said Mon. "Only you chose to start by accusing me of wishing for my brother to lose his inheritance."
"For that I apologize."
"I wish you would apologize for calling me a ‘mere human,' " said Mon.
"For that I also apologize," said Bego stiffly. "Just because you are a mere human doesn't mean that you can't have meaningful affection and loyalty between siblings. It isn't your fault that you cannot begin to comprehend the bonds of shared selfhood between otherselves among the sky people."
"Ah, Bego, now I understand what Husu meant, when he said that you were the only man he knew who could insult someone worse with your apologies than with your slanders."
"Husu said that?" asked Bego mildly. "And here I thought he hadn't understood me."
"Tell me the business of state," said Mon. "Tell me what business brought Ilihiak to Father."
Bego grinned. "I thought you wouldn't be able to resist the story."
Mon waited. When Bego didn't go on, Mon roared with frustration and ran once around the desk, for all the world like a digger child circling a tree before climbing it. He knew he looked silly, but he couldn't stand the malicious little games that Bego played.
"Oh, sit down," said Bego. "What Ilihiak came for was to give your father twenty-four leaves of gold."
"Oh," said Mon, disappointed. "Just money."
"Not money at all," said Bego. "There was writing on them. Twenty-four leaves of ancient writing."
"Ancient? You mean, before the Zenifi?"
"Perhaps," said Bego with a faint smile. "Perhaps before the Na-fari."
"So there might have been a group of diggers or angels who knew how to work metal? Who knew how to write?"
Bego gave that rippling of his wings that among the angels meant the same as a shrug. "I don't know," said Bego. "I can't read the language."
"But you speak skyspeech and dirtwords and-"
"Earthspeech," Bego corrected him. "Your father doesn't like us to use such disparaging terms toward the earth people."
Mon r6lled his eyes. "It's an ugly language that barely qualifies as talk."
"Your father rules over a kingdom that includes diggers as citizens."
"Not many. Most of them are slaves. It's in their nature. Even among the Elemaki, humans usually rule over them."
"Usually but not always," said Bego. "And it's good to remember, when disparaging the diggers, to remember that these supposed ‘natural slaves' managed to drive our ancestors out of the land of Nafai."
Mon almost jumped into another argument about whether greatgrandfather Motiab led his people to Darakemba voluntarily or because they were in danger of being destroyed back in their ancient homeland. But then he realized that this was exactly what Bego wanted him to do. So he sat patiently and waited.
Bego nodded. "So, you refused to take up the distraction. Very good."
Mon rolled his eyes. "You're the teacher, you're the master, you know everything, I am your puppet," he intoned.
Bego had heard this litany of sarcasm before. "And don't you forget it," he said-as he usually did. "Now, these records were found by a party Ilihiak had sent out to look for Darakemba. Only they followed the Issibek instead of the Tsidorek, and then had the bad luck to follow some difficult high valleys until they came out of the gornaya altogether, far to the north of here, in the desert."
"Opustoshen," said Mon, by reflex.
"Another point for knowing geography," said Bego. "What they found, though, was a place we've never found-mostly because it's considerably west of Bodika, and our spies just don't fly that far. Why should they? There's no water there-no enemy can come against us from that quarter."
"So they found the book of gold in the desert?"
"Not a book. Unbound leaves. But it wasn't just a desert. It was the scene of a terrible battle. Vast numbers of skeletons, with armor and weapons cluttered around them where they fell. Thousands and thousands and thousands of soldiers fought there and died."
Bego paused, waiting for something.
And then Mon made the connection. "Coriantumr," he murmured.
Bego nodded his approval. "The legendary man who came to Darakemba as the first human the sky people here had ever seen. We always assumed that he was the survivor of some battle between an obscure group of Nafari or Elemaki somewhere, when humans were first spreading through the gornaya. It was a difficult time, and we lost track of many groups. When the original sky people of Darakemba told us he was the last survivor of a huge war between great nations, we assumed it was just exaggeration. The only thing that stuck in my craw, anyway, was the inscription."
Mon had seen it, the large round stone that still stood in the central market of the city. No one had any idea what the inscription meant; they always assumed that it was a sort of primitive imitation of writing that the Darakembi angels came up with, after they heard that humans could write things down and before they learned how to do it themselves."