They are turning on you now and they mean to fight until they win.'
His words fell hard; afterward, all sat in silence. Lamps hissed, a familiar and almost comforting sound. The council speaker carried an infant in a sling at her hip, its sleeping face illuminated by a pool of light. She took the speaking stick from Masar and offered it to Anji. 'Sobering words, Marshal. How can anyone defeat fifteen cohorts, Captain?'
T will not fight a pitched battle unless I can win it,' said Anji in his cool voice, the one people listened to because they mistook it for that of a man who harbors no strong emotion. 'There are many ways to win a campaign. If you sit here, you will starve even if you aren't overrun. Those of you who have ships can flee, as long as you are not caught and thrown into the sea. But in the end, the shores you run to will be overrun in their turn. A commander who can raise fifteen cohorts will raise more. He will take your sons as soldiers and your daughters to serve those soldiers-'
As voices swelled, people angrily protesting, the baby woke and began to fuss. Anji crossed to the council speaker and offered to take the child, a pleasing baby of about the same age as Atani. After a hesitation, she handed over the infant. Anji had a deft arm, and as he paced, the little one quieted and, likewise, the assembly fell silent, watching him calm the baby.
He kept pacing, his tone incongruously pleasant and his aspect, with the babe in arms, so harmonious that his words fell like rocks dropped from a clear blue sky. T ask you to hear me out. The Hundred is not like the rest of the world. Let this army overtake you, and you will discover you have far less control over your lives than you had before. Your sons will be forced to join as soldiers, or be killed. Your daughters will be raped. Your temples will be burned. Your coin and your children and your possessions and food stores will be stolen. You will be their slaves, because they will hold the sword. They are commanded by cloaks — whether demons or corrupted Guardians — who cut right into your heart. Who can kill you with a word. Is that what you want? As long as a single one of those cloaks walks on this earth, they have the power to raise another cadre, another company, another cohort. Another army.'
He shifted the now happy baby to his other arm so he could hold the speaking stick like a sword. 'Or do you want to fight?
Because the only army that can defeat them now is an alliance of all those remaining who do not want to suffer under their rule.'
The baby babbled in cheerful reply to Anji's brutal words. Was the man brilliant, or did he simply miss his son?
Joss scanned the assembly; this tidy speech had frightened the council more than the very events and consequences they had seen with their own eyes. People were strange that way. They pretended their bags of rice and bins of nai flour weren't almost empty, sang tales to wish away the news of spoiled harvests or a trade ship gone missing. And then the storm would hit, and they weren't prepared.
Yet was he any different? Sometimes he felt he was hooked into harness but held no jess, at the mercy of winds and wings, so far above he could watch the land unfolding beneath and yet never be touched by it. Until a baby's babbling set into relief the harsh reality of the situation.
He rose. He'd been quiet all evening, and Anji stepped back to give him the speaker's stick. 'Listen, I know a few of you remember me from when I was a young reeve stationed at Copper Hall on the Haya shore.'
Some cursed woman in the back benches whistled admiringly, and folk did chuckle, but this time he did not blush. It was good they remembered him. It gave him a weapon.
'I was known as a reckless young man. I lost a woman I loved, another reeve.' Who is a Guardian now, having died to protect you gods-rotted fools. Yet after Anji's talk of cloaks and corruption, he must speak circumspectly. 'She was killed twenty-one years ago, and I am pretty cursed sure she was killed by men under the command of Lord Radas. Why do I tell you this? Because I got in a hells lot of trouble when I was a young reeve. I broke boundaries, I flew to Guardian altars looking for answers, and in the end I was disciplined and sent to Clan Hall. In the end, I told myself my elders were right, that I was walking where I wasn't meant to go. But now I ask myself: what if we had understood what was going on sooner? If we'd made more effort to figure out why Herelia and Vess kicked out the reeve patrols. If we'd paid more attention to villages who cut themselves off from the assizes. If we had bothered to notice that young men were vanishing, that the settlements around Walshow were growing. If we hadn't avoided it then, maybe we wouldn't be in this terrible situation now. Do we keep avoiding the truth? Or is it time to accept that
this is no tale, this is no chance event. Like the orphan girl in the Tale of the Guardians, we cannot live in the world we grew up in. We have to ask the gods for the strength to change things. It is time to go to Indiyabu, as the orphaned girl did. Maybe you say, Indiyabu is just a tale, a place long since lost to humankind. But it is also a place in our hearts, a place where we find the courage to do what we must.'
Suddenly the air seemed too thick to breathe. His skin burned, and his hands and forehead went clammy. 'How long must this talk go on and on when we don't have a choice?' he demanded, and heard that he had spoken aloud what he'd meant only for his thoughts.
Anji handed the baby back to its grandmother and pulled his riding whip from his belt, pulling its length through his hand like a man impatient to ride. 'Honored council members, I cannot wait while you chew through all your fears and hopes and suspicions. At dawn, Commander Joss and I leave to continue our scouting. Then he'll return to his hall and I to the army. This is a dire situation. We are weak, and they are strong, but their strength is also their weakness because they do not believe anyone can fight them, much less defeat them. If we go our separate ways, then in the end, we will all fall into the shadow. But if we act together' — he raised his riding crop, slashed it once for emphasis in the air, its hiss cutting into their fears — 'we can triumph. I have said every word that I can say. To go on discussing it is to pretend words will win this war. Some wars, words can win. Not this one.'
He gestured. Sengel and Toughid turned to make sure the path was clear. To Joss's surprise, Masar tottered after him to show which course of action he favored. So Joss rose as well. Nessumara's council members called after him in desperate voices to stay, to talk more, and it was Nallo, who had been standing in silent attendance through the meeting, who spoke.
'Go ahead and talk yourselves to death,' she snapped, a parting shot as they walked out. 'Just send someone to let us know when you've all expired so we'll know we can finally get something done.'
Before dawn the council sent a messenger to Copper Halclass="underline" Nessumara would ally with Olo'osson. Joss saw something he'd have sworn he would never see: Anji severed his faithful guard
Sengel — Joss had actually never seen Anji without Sengel standing within sight — and left him in charge of Nessumara's defenses.
The hells.
It was like that instant when your eagle shifted, and you knew he was about to dive: the fight was on.
A waning gibbous moon shone over the promontory of Law Rock. The River Istri streamed south, a ribbon glistening under the pearlescent light. A lantern winked on the river, but although Joss scanned the darkness, he did not see it again.
'What do you think of our outlander captain?' Peddonon asked. 'He strikes me as a cautious man. He keeps his guard close. Yet the Qin seem to haul around some odd notions, and hold to them pretty rigidly.'