Traitors Gate

'There's a camp near us with a few Qin in residence, training the others. They took their pick of well connected girls. Not that they were rude about it, mind you. They took what seemed best

to them. Anyway, all that militia have marched. While here we sit, waiting.'

'You're not waiting, verea. You're working.'

She shifted the reins to move the dray beasts across a transition where the one-cart road merged onto a wider two-cart path on a massive berm that speared straight south over the plain. The waning quarter moon was rising in the east. In the wagon behind, young women were giggling as they talked.

'Work's a thing I'm accustomed to.,-.yillages burned, refugees starving in the fields, roads unsafe — that's nothing I ever want to get accustomed to. I make my offerings to the gods and pray that our army defeats the enemy and brings peace. That would be worth plenty, neh?'

O'eki had returned to Olossi with the ships transporting the new Qin cohort and their horses. At the Qin compound in Olossi the big man welcomed Keshad with such a genuine smile that Kesh was taken aback. The chamber, large enough to house ten clerks, was silent, with only a single guard, a local man, standing at attention at the open door into the warehouse.

'Where are the other clerks?' Kesh asked after he'd covered his discomfort by washing his feet, hands, and face.

'Hu! I let them go because they weren't experienced enough. I keep the compound books myself. I hired the Haf Gi Ri house to keep track of the army's expenses and revenues.'

'The Haf Gi Ri house? The Ri Amarah women?'

O'eki was cleaning his brushes and closing down his accounts for the day. Both doors were open in the accounts office, but no breeze blew through to cool them.

'In exchange for the contract, the Haf Gi Ri have undertaken to make no sales to anyone supplying the army. That way they can't enrich themselves on the side by cheating the books.'

From the warehouse rose a genial exchange of greetings between locals. Indeed, there was not a single Qin soldier to be seen except for crippled Seren, who had command of the compound guard. A familiar figure clomped into the chamber from the warehouse, still laughing at a joke he'd left behind. Seeing Kesh, he coughed to silence. His silver bracelets, running three-quarters of the way up his arms, jangled as he stopped short. He had every bit of skin covered except hands and face, just like in Sirniaka.

'Eliar.' Kesh rose.

'You're here!' said Eliar, with a flash of surprise before he looked away. He placed a bundle of accounts books on O'eki's writing desk. 'I've brought today's accounting early. We've a festival tonight, and the women closed up the books early.'

'Why are you surprised to see me?' asked Kesh. 'I'm a hostage, you must have known I'd be dragged back here in time. In a way, I'm like your sister-'

Eliar turned his back on Kesh. 'My sister is dead.'

'Of course she's not dead-!'

'I'll thank you not to speak of her.'

'You're the one who loses in that bargain. I see you have more bracelets, eh? Were you rewarded for your part in our southern expedition?'

Eliar tensed as he clenched a fist. 'I'm getting married. The engagement's been sealed. My bride arrives any day now.'

'How can she do that?'

'A female reeve will bring her. It's all been arranged.'

'Just as your sister would have been hauled off to Nessumara- Wait! Which bride? The one they arranged for before? The one from Nessumara? The one they meant to trade Miravia for?'

Eliar lunged, fist cocked, but O'eki interposed his bulk between them. 'I'll thank both of you pups not to bark. My thanks, Eliar. As always. Here's our book. I'll see you tomorrow.'

There he stood with the immensity of a mountain, implacable and immovable, as Eliar grabbed the accounts book and left.

'So,' muttered Kesh, 'the Ri Amarah settle their problems by pretending they don't exist.'

'I still hear barking,' said O'eki. 'I'm no longer a slave, Master Keshad. I'm factor here, with certain privileges. One of them is that I want you to shut up about this. It's a waste of my time, and I value the Ri Amarah, even if you do not.'

Kesh bit back a retort.

O'eki smiled. 'That's better.'

'You're a cursed sight cleverer than anyone has ever thought you were, aren't you?' said Kesh.

'I'm a patient man. Now that I'm here, Master Keshad, I don't intend to lose what I've so unexpectedly gained, nor do I intend to suffer through two young men wrangling out of hurt pride and unmet lust. Do you understand me?'

But Kesh smiled. Lust was nothing. Lust passed. What he felt was not lust.

'I realize I am a hostage in this household,' he said, 'but with your permission I'd like the evening free to run a few errands.'

'You're free to go. I'll be sending you back to Astafero in the morning by reeve to arrange for another consignment of oil of naya.'

'Won't that clean out their stores?'

'The naya seeps will keep producing, won't they?'

'So they will. Why don't they lift it all out by eagle?'

'The eagles can only take two vessels at a time. There's still stock in Argent Hall to move, so why waste the reeves' time by making them lose two days flying to Astafero and back when we can ship in new supplies for them to carry once they've lifted the old?'

'You'd think the enemy might remember what was done to them at Olossi. Not that I was there, but I've heard the story a hundred times.'

'Even if they know, what can they do?'

'I don't know. That's why I'm not a military man. I'll be ready to go at dawn.'

In the hirelings' courtyard he washed, and dressed in a rumpled jacket and trousers. He didn't need to impress with his clothing and his looks. He wasn't a rich merchant. The gold from Anji's mother was like poison that he had to shed from his system.

He set out in the heat haze, keeping to the shady side of the streets. He stopped first at one of the Lantern's temples, and afterward made his way to Mistress Bettia's compound. The elderly doorman, a slave bought out of the south years ago, recognized Keshad and admitted him to the reception hall, a cozy chamber fitted with pillows, a decorative screen depicting famous actors from recent festivals, and doors slid open to display an inner courtyard ornamented with a fishpond and flower-pots.

He sat cross-legged on a pillow, watching the courtyard shadows consume the handsome pond and plants as the sun set. The inner door slapped open, and a slave entered, a young attractive woman carrying a tray with a pot and two tiny ceramic cups. A debt mark branded her face by her left eye; she was wearing a taloos so thinly woven that her body was half visible beneath, the kind of thing unpleasant masters made their massage girls wear when helping bored customers. She did not look at him, her face flushed with shame.

Mistress Bettia knew he and Nasia had been slaves together in

Master Feden's household and it was almost certain she knew they had once been lovers. It was possible Nasia had even confessed to her mistress, or to one of the other household slaves, that she had cherished the hope that Keshad meant to buy her free, but of course he had ruthlessly abandoned her when he had a chance to free his sister from Ushara's temple.

Mistress Bettia entered the room, called for tea to be poured, and dimissed the slave.

'Whew! Such heat!' she said by way of opening the conversation, fanning her sweaty face. 'You were gone a long time, Master Keshad. People thought you were dead.'

Tm not dead. I see you still have the slave you received from Master Feden.'

'Nasia?' Her smile oozed a false surprise. 'Not much use to me, I tell you. The Sirniakan couch I traded for her was of more use to me.'

'How much?' he asked.

'How much?' Her trembling hand, lifting the cup, betrayed her greed. She licked her lips before she sipped. 'Ten cheyt.'