Had this been my work gang, shovels would already be in hand.
I followed the buzz of voices into the tent camp. They were raising and fitting a new kitchen tent. That I could excuse.
Slipping around the edge of the busy crowd, I headed for the tent that I’d been using. I wasn’t sure who’d been dispossessed, but I wouldn’t be here much longer. Every day I spent here was a danger to the temple and Endurance. The god might grant me divine protection, but that hadn’t stopped murderers at the gates. Since Chowdry would neither set nor hire guards- And is that his foolishness, or the word of Endurance? I wondered-I needed to take myself somewhere that could be closed off, or much better hidden.
I paused around the canvas corner of my tent at the sound of voices. Something familiar but out of place. Listening, I realized I was hearing a muttered argument in Seliu between Chowdry and someone whose voice I recognized but could not in that instant put a name to.
Whom?
“… this is not a matter for these pale folk.”
“I will not be having any of this,” Chowdry hissed.
“It will be worse for all of us. That other one slew the entire ship but me! Chittachai lies burned beneath the ocean.”
The other man was Little Baji!
Chowdry grunted. “Good riddance to Utavi, I say, though I am sorry for the rest of them. But my answer is still being no.”
“I am making no threats,” replied Little Baji mournfully. “But the rest of them are threats. Those Blade women are mad as dogs in the market. Even the girl Samma. And that other one, the bitch from the Bittern Court. She frightens them all.”
“This is Copper Downs, not Kalimpura.” Good man, I thought, mentally urging Chowdry on. “Those powers hold no fear for me.”
“Your ox god is Selistani surely as Green herself.”
I knew my cue when I heard it. I slipped around the corner, short knife in my hand, and laid the blade edge at Little Baji’s throat. “Looking for someone?” I asked, also in Seliu.
Chowdry glared at me. “I won’t have you drawing weapons in my temple either, Green.”
“This isn’t a weapon,” I told him, my free hand tugging Little Baji’s short-cropped hair back to expose and tighten the skin of his neck. I eased the blade along as if shaving him, or stropping it on a piece of inferior leather. “This is a sacrament of the Lily Goddess.”
Little Baji whimpered but did not answer. Chowdry appeared incensed. “I would not sell you to him. I will not be selling him to you, either. Let the man go, and both of you take your troubles elsewhere.”
I shoved Little Baji away from me. I was angry now at both of them and perhaps at myself. “If your mistresses want me, they can seek me out. I’ll cut their throats as easily as I will cut yours. And take more pleasure in it. Tell them I said that, and also that I’m done with dancing to the tunes of others.”
Not god nor goddess, nor mistress nor politicians. I realized I meant what I said-I was done. Between my time in the High Hills and the rubble of Marya’s temple, ambitions for the paths of power had truly fled me.
I lived now for me and for my daughter.
Somehow I doubted that was what Mother Iron meant by the oldest powers, but there was no power older than the bond between a mother and her child. Even the titanics knew better than that. Desire perhaps most of all, with Her brood of daughter-goddesses scattered across the plate of the world like so much smelt.
Chowdry’s old crewmate rubbed his neck and stared at me. “You’re all madwomen,” he muttered. “That girl Samma killed us all and burnt the ship.”
“Samma?” I laughed. “If she took all of you on, then you were worse than useless. Return to your kennel, fool, and tell Surali and Mother Vajpai that I am done with them.”
Nodding brusquely at both men, I paid them the insult of turning my back and entering my tent. You cannot strike me down, I said, in the language of angry men. You dare not.
And so they didn’t. When I emerged a few minutes later, both Chowdry and Little Baji were gone. Only Ponce stood there.
“I am to escort you from the temple grounds,” he said, looking as mournful as he sounded.
“Chowdry is angry with me, but the god will not cast me aside.”
Ponce shrugged. “This I do not know. I just wish things were different.”
“All my life I’ve been wishing things were different.” Patting his arm, I continued, “Besides, you are safer without me. I must solve some problems that have sharp edges behind them. A public ejection of me from this place may spare you further turmoil.”
He walked me to the doorless gateway, but refused to shout down a banishment as I urged him to. His last words to me were “That big priest-killing pardine is back. I heard he was looking for you.”
“Good thing I’m not a priest.” I walked away whistling, pretending to far more cheer than I felt.
Once again I sought the roofs. They were among the safest places for me to think, and my likelihood of unfortunate incidents seemed minimal. A glance to the south suggested heavy squalls rolling in. For now the air was pale and quiet, with that tension which awaits a coming storm.
I knew all about coming storms, was quite capable of throwing more than a few lightning bolts myself at need.
Thinking wasn’t always so productive, unfortunately. That forced me to concentrate on my worries, which had a tendency to multiply one another like mice in a pantry. I wasn’t ready for more of Archimandrix, the Eyes of the Hills were heavy and sparking with tension within the inner pocket of my canvas shirt, and the rest of my troubles had not seen fit to take themselves away either. I could hardly search for the Rectifier with the Eyes of the Hills in my possession. Both good money and bad said the Revanchists would sense their presence. Besides, neither Mother Vajpai nor Surali was any kind of a fool-the two of them would have men among the Selistani refugees at the Tavernkeep’s place, even if they hadn’t already on my last visit.
The idea of simply taking to my heels and returning to Ilona’s cottage in the High Hills had a certain appeal. But fleeing had never been my style, not when turning to fight was any option. It was just that not even I could fight everyone at once. At the moment the whole city was starting to feel like my enemy.
Besides, back in the High Hills, Erio would surely stir up whatever trouble a ghost from past ages would be able to. Ilona would welcome me, but she would not accept me if the graves were made uneasy by my continued presence. The old king was a vivimancer, a power among the dead who called the living to him to do his bidding. I did not believe he wouldn’t seek to bind me further through Ilona.
The worst was, he had the right of the business. Danger presented to me and to my child. Walking away from Copper Downs not only betrayed the city, it betrayed my daughter.
Everyone had stakes in this game, and they all seemed laid against me.
With a strange reluctance, my thoughts circled back to the twins Iso and Osi. We’d spoken before about how gods came to be, and found their power. This knowledge in turn would suggest ways that gods might be checked. Common sense indicated that a woman would sooner stand sword-armed against a storm as deter divine intent, yet gods bore a relationship to their worshippers nothing like the violent indifference of a seaborne cyclone. The twins’ studies uniquely qualified them in this regard. Besides, if everything here went so badly against me that I simply could not carry on, their pilgrimage was a vehicle by which I might escape both Copper Downs and my ever-burgeoning role as Blade to this fractious city.
As for Desire, well, the farther away from the ruined temple and Her presence I was, the less did I know what I felt there. I could identify a residue of overwhelming grief for Her daughter Marya, mixed with an intense personal urge to not experience the emotions of a titanic ever again in my life.