'Heart's blood, Tsata! It's late. I'd forgotten the other reason I came to see you. Will you come back to Araka Jo with me? Yugi has called a meeting, and he asked if you would attend.'
'I will come,' he said. 'May I bring others?' In response to Kaiku's puzzled frown, he said: 'I am not their leader, merely their… favoured ambassador. Others should come, to hear and decide. I will keep the number small. There will be three, including myself. Is that acceptable?'
'Three, then,' Kaiku said. 'We convene at sunset.' The meeting was held in the rectangular central hall of the largest temple in the complex. It was open to the air, for what once had been a magnificent roof had crumbled under the pressure of ages, and the early-risen Iridima looked into the hall from overhead as Nuki's light turned the sky to copper and gold. It was built of the same white stone as the rest of the complex, and from that stone were carved a dozen enormous idols which lined the walls, four on each of the long sides and one at each corner. The roof had protected the idols for centuries from the worst of time's assaults before it fell, and they were better preserved than most: disconcerting, imposing beings that spoke to something subconscious in the viewer, some ancient memory long lost that still lingered in wisps in the deepest chasms of the mind. Their eyes were uniformly bulbous and slitted horizontally, exuding a dark hunger, and their forms were amalgamations of mammal and reptile and bird.
Lanterns had been placed in newly-set brackets, and an enormous wicker mat dyed with fine designs had been laid in the centre of the otherwise featureless floor, on which the debaters would sit. When Kaiku and Tsata arrived, most were already there, kneeling or cross-legged with their shoes or boots neatly set behind them, just beyond the edge of the mat. She recognised them alclass="underline" Cailin, Phaeca and several other Sisters, Yugi, Mishani, Lucia, Heir-Barak Hikken tu Erinima, Barakess Emira tu Ziris, and assorted folk of the Libera Dramach. Kaiku was relieved to note that Asara was not present: she had been avoiding her ever since she received news of her arrival. Then she wondered if she was here, and Kaiku simply did not recognise her.
There were few nobles present, since most were content to stay in the cities, and this was primarily a Libera Dramach gathering. Hikken was here because he never strayed far from his niece Lucia, hovering like a vulture, and Barakess Emira had been at Araka Jo on a visit. She was an enthusiastic supporter of the Libera Dramach, but she was not powerful, having unwisely backed Blood Kerestyn during the last coup and suffering the loss of most of her army.
Kaiku led Tsata into the hall along with the two other Tkiurathi – a brown-haired, thickset man named Heth who spoke some Saramyrrhic, and the woman who had complimented her on her language back at the village, whose name was Peithre. Beyond the mat where the principal participants would sit, there were a few dozen others lining the walls to observe. Then she spotted Nomoru.
Kaiku's heart jumped in surprise as their eyes met. There she was, in the flesh, scrawny and unkempt and surly, half her face in shadow. Kaiku had almost given up on seeing her again, assuming that she had died in Axekami. How she had got out of the pall-pits and out of the city, Kaiku would probably never know. But she was tough as a rat, this one, and she had come through once again.
As Kaiku stared, she tilted her head, and the light from nearby fell on the side of her face that had been hidden. Kaiku caught her breath. Nomoru's skin was crisscrossed with scars, thin raised tracks like ploughlines streaking her from cheek to ear and along her neck. It occurred suddenly that Nomoru was showing them to her. She looked away, perturbed by this new thought. Did Nomoru hold her responsible? Kaiku had not thought fast enough when she saw Juto squeeze the trigger to shoot Nomoru: she should have killed the momentum of the rifle ball in the air instead of blowing it apart. Even though Kaiku had scarred her in the process of saving her life, did Nomoru blame her for her disfigurement? Gods, she did not want that woman as an enemy.
But then she was slipping her shoes from her feet and kneeling on the communal mat, and Tsata indicated to his companions that they should do the same. She was in full Red Order garb now, and it armoured her against the stares of the people in the hall, against the resentful presence of the idols and the restless flitting of the spirits that whirled invisibly in the recesses, stirred by the unwelcome crowd.
The appearance of the Tkiurathi caused some whispering around the room, but they seemed oblivious. When the meeting began and formal introductions were made for the benefit of all assembled, Kaiku stood and named the Tkiurathi, explaining their presence and apologising in advance for the necessity of translating. Heth murmured her words in Okhamban to Peithre.
Refreshments were laid between them as the formalities went on, small lacquered tables of drinks and silver bowls of finger-food. Heth immediately reached for one of the morsels but was arrested by a negative glare from Tsata, and retreated. The welcomes were done as the last light bled out of the sky and left Iridima hanging in a star-speckled winter night, and it was Yugi, leader of the Libera Dramach, who put forward the reason why they were all here.
'The question before us today is simple,' he said. 'What do we do now? The stalemate has been broken, and the Weavers have the advantage. If we do nothing, they will create more of the feya-kori, and they will sweep aside our forces as they have at Juraka and Zila. As yet we have established no defence against these demons, and though we have learned something of their nature it hasn't yielded any way to hold them back. It's only because they are forced to return to their pall-pits and recuperate that they have not been able to invade the Southern Prefectures with impunity; but though we have a little time, we don't have much of it. Soon, other pall-pits in other cities will be operational. If we can't stand against two feya-kori, what chance do we have against ten or more?'
And so the debate began. Opinions were put back and forth. Yugi mooted the option of marshalling their forces for a full-scale attack on Axekami, more to get it out of the way than because he believed it was a viable option. It was quickly dismissed by the council as foolhardy and pointless: even if they succeeded, it would leave them overstretched and vulnerable. Axekami was not the Weavers' power base, but the old Empire's, and hence it would not be a fatal blow to them; additionally, they still could not hold the city against the feya-kori, and it could be easily retaken.
'If Axekami is to be won, it must be won by the people!' Hikken tu Erinima declared, at which point Yugi called Kaiku and Phaeca to give an account of their recent movements in Axekami and how they gauged the mood of the people. It was not encouraging. Other spies that had reported to Yugi corroborated their opinion.
'We cannot allow ourselves to hope for revolt,' Cailin said. 'The scale is too big, and there is little hope against the Weavers. They can eliminate agitators at will. Without the Red Order to defend them, the people would not have a chance to organise, and there are barely enough of us to protect the forces of the Empire, let alone its citizenry as well.' Her eyes glided over the assembly. 'Passive resistance is the best we could hope for, and even then it is a slim hope. Disseminating the message would not be an easy task, and it would have to be done without the Red Order, for we dare not operate in the Weavers' cities. We cannot even allow Lucia to use her talent for dreamwalking to spy for us there. The risk is too great.'