'Lord Protector!' Ukadi suddenly cried from outside the doorway, and mother and daughter froze. Mishani went numb with the force of the sadness that struck her. Being discovered by her father was one thing, with all the lives that would be cost by her foolishness in coming here; but what was worse at this moment was the knowledge that now she and her mother had to part, that they would likely never meet again, that these precious handful of minutes out of ten years were all they would ever have.
'Go!' Muraki hissed, and Mishani hesitated, taking her mother's hands, gripping them. 'Go!' she urged again, terror in her eyes.
'I heard she was walking about,' said Avun. 'I must see her!'
'She is being attended by my assistant,' Ukadi was saying beyond the curtain. 'Please, it would be best if you…'
Mishani leaned forward quickly, kissed Muraki on the cheek, and whispered in her ear: 'You were the strongest of us all, Mother. My heart will always be with you.'
Then she got up and swept towards the doorway, just as Avun came through the curtain. Mishani made a deep bow, still walking, and passed by her startled father with her head down as he held the curtain aside for her. Due to the difference in height, he only saw the back of her head. It was an incredibly rude thing to do, and Avun's shock prevented him from reacting for a moment; then, as he opened his mouth to call her back, Muraki cried: 'Avun! Avun! Come here!'
The volume of his wife's voice, which was never more than a whisper, made him forget the servant immediately and hurry into the room, where Muraki embraced him and kissed him with an affection he had not witnessed in years, and she did not let him go. She drew him down onto the bed, and there she made love to him for the first time in longer than he cared to remember.
So surprised and pleased was he that he entirely forgot about the physician's assistant until long after she had left the Imperial Keep; and yet later he found he could not shake the insidious feeling that, even though he had not seen her face, he knew her from somewhere. But he could never recall quite where.
TWENTY-THREE
Word from Mishani reached Araka Jo a day later, via a Sister who operated secretly out of Maza. She was an important relay for the spies in Axekami, and Mishani went straight to her after leaving the capital. Her news caused great commotion. Nobody had known where Mishani had gone, only that she had departed Araka Jo some time before, saying that she was attending to business of her own. When the upper echelons of the Libera Dramach learned what she had done, she was denounced as being reprehensible for placing them all at such risk; but it was Cailin who defended her, who pointed out that great risk had brought great reward, and the information she had given them was priceless.
A meeting was called immediately, and plans were put forward, many of which had been fermenting over the previous weeks and had been discussed in other meetings beforehand. Finally consensus was reached. There was no more room for delays. The time for action had come.
It was the morning after that meeting when Kaiku made her way down the trail to the south of Araka Jo, and found the Tkiurathi village in a state of busy preparation. They had conducted their own meeting last night, in the wake of the one with the Libera Dramach. Each individual had been asked to make their own choice as to whether they would follow the course suggested by the council. Kaiku had come to find the results of that.
She wandered through the Tkiurathi village, exchanging gestured greetings with a few men and women that she recognised. It was not hard to guess how the decision had gone. Blades were being sharpened, rifles cleaned, supplies made ready. They were packing for a journey.
There was a simplicity to this place that Kaiku liked: the smell of the cookfires, the repka yurts which looked like huge three-armed starfish lying between the trees, the sense of ease in the interaction of the tattooed folk. They seemed so untroubled in their daily lives, even now, even knowing that they were heading into something that they might well not come back from. Laughter came easily to them when they were together. Some of them were breakfasting, taking from a communal pot, exchanging food from their plates. Even this small act of sharing made a difference, something so natural to them that they must have long ceased to think about it.
She remembered a conversation she had had with Tsata long ago, in which he said that the Saramyr way of life resulted directly from their development of cities and courts and all the things Kaiku associated with civilisation; Tkiurathi shunned all that. Now that she had seen them, the way they interacted as a group, she wondered whose philosophy was better in the end.
Kaiku asked after Tsata by making his name a question, and was directed towards a rough circle of Tkiurathi who sat talking and drinking from wooden cups shaped somewhat like pears or pinecones. There was a large bowl in the centre from which they took refills. Heth was there, too; he noticed her first, and hailed her by name. The circle broke to leave a space between Tsata and Heth, and she smiled her gratitude as she sat down and was immediately handed a cup by a woman she did not recognise. The woman took a new one and filled it for herself.
She managed a general greeting in Okhamban in response to the one she received, then took a sip of the liquid. It was warm, and spicy and fiery on her tongue.
'Daygreet. Have I interrupted?' she asked Tsata, but her presence had cause barely a lull in the conversation, and they were already back to their discussion.
'We are working out final details of our departure,' Tsata said. 'It is not anything of great importance.'
'They agreed, then?'
'Without exception,' Heth said on her other side.
'There was little doubt they would. It is a matter of pash,' Tsata explained.
'Gods, it seems such a short time since we came back,' Kaiku mused, then she glanced at Heth. 'How are you?'
'I grieve,' he said. 'But Peithre has been returned to her people. I am thankful for that.'
Kaiku nodded, closing her eyes. In the Forest of Xu, Heth had refused to relinquish Peithre's body until he had brought her back to the village. In the end, he and Tsata had gone separately from the others, for her corpse, even wrapped as it was, had begun to reek of decay. But still Heth would not bury her or burn her. Kaiku did not know what the rites of honouring the dead were in Tkiurathi culture, but she was sure that there had been something beyond mere companionship between Heth and Peithre.
'Our course is set, then,' she said. 'One way or another, I think we come to the last movement of our war.'
The meeting of the day before had been coordinated, via the Sisters, with Barak Reki tu Tanatsua and several other desert Baraks in Izanzai. Mishani's information had been shared among all, though its source had been kept carefully secret for fear of compromising Muraki. Its most pertinent and pressing aspect was this: that the Weavers planned a massive surprise assault upon Saraku in the near future. Saraku, the centre of debate and administration, formed the heart of the Empire's resistance as well as being where most of the nobles and high families resided. If Saraku were to fall then the Weavers would have an all but unassailable foothold deep behind the frontline. From there, they could strike at Machita or Araka Jo, or demolish the marshland cities to the east. Once the Prefectures were secured, they could overwhelm Tchom Rin at their leisure.