Freedom's Sisters Page 2

  Kyros had his feet kicked up on a bolster. I glanced at him again, wondering if he was going to ask me questions, but he appeared to be deep in thought. I looked out the window again.

  I thought I could see farms now, below us. There were houses, surrounded by fields. The dark ribbon that ran alongside the farms was not, I realized, a river, but a wide, well-kept road; there were people traveling along it, with horses, wagons, camel trains. I had been studying the ground for so long, trying to pick out details, that I was startled to see movement out of the corner of my eye, in the air; I looked, expecting a bird, and saw something that looked like a flying barn, or a very large flying box. An aeriko caravan, I realized, shipping apples one direction and grapes the other. It was painted to look like a bright yellow bird, with eyes and feathers outlined in black.

  “Your mother would be shocked by your hair,” Kyros said.

  I touched the cropped ends. “It’s grown out a lot.” I scratched an itch. “I think if my mother saw me now, she’d want me scrubbed raw and picked free of lice before she’d let me kiss her.” I’ll certainly look the part of a bandit if I get taken before the magia like this. I glanced covertly at Kyros. I’d found out near the end of my summer with the Alashi that Kyros was my father. Had he always spoken of my mother so casually? I couldn’t remember.

  Kyros chuckled a little and fell silent again. I sat back against the cushions and tried to practice, in my mind, what I would say to the magia, but my thoughts kept skipping ahead to when she didn’t believe me. Would she have me executed? Or tortured like a captured spy? Like the captured spy I am?

  What did I know? The camp locations of the Alashi camps, last year. But even a djinn could find that out; they didn’t need me for that. How to infiltrate the Alashi—the tests I’d had to pass. The beads. I grimaced inwardly at the memory, but I was almost certain that the precise tests varied depending on what the leader of the sword sisterhood or brotherhood thought you needed to learn. Or the clan elder or eldress, if you joined the Alashi in the winter, or were too young or too old to go fight.

  I knew that the Alashi had karenite, but the Sisterhood of Weavers knew that already. I knew something about the karenite trade in Daphnia—the names of the two sorceresses who bought, or tried to buy, my karenite. I could turn them over, I suppose. I knew about the Servant Sisterhood and the Younger Sisters, but little beyond the bare fact of their existence. There was Zivar, of course. Zivar, who’d been born a slave and then managed to pass herself off as a Weaver’s apprentice. The green mouse, she had called herself, because there was no one else like her in the world—well, other than me. I flinched at the thought of having information about Zivar wrung from me, but I doubted that the Weavers particularly cared where Zivar came from. She made spell-chains for them on command, at least for now, so she was useful. Her origins were unimportant.

  I could tell them about Lycurgus. Lycurgus, Kyros’s cousin, was supposedly the steward of a farm owned by the Sisterhood. Tamar and I had taken Uljas there, looking for Burkut. Lycurgus had been drunk most of the time, and I’d realized while there that he’d been skimming farm profits to help the Younger Sisters. That’s the sort of information I could give Kyros to convince him that I really was on his side all along. I didn’t really care whether I condemned Lycurgus or not; I had no fondness for the man. Solon had been kind, and far more competent. And loyal to the Sisterhood.

  If I were talkative enough, could I convince them I really had stayed loyal to Kyros?

  They’ll believe me. Of course they’ll believe me. I knew it was the cold fever whispering in my ear, but I embraced it because the alternative was despair. They’ll believe me because I am the one meant to free the rivers. I can only do that if I’m alive.

  “Can you see the towers yet?” Kyros asked.

  “Towers?”

  “Well, you’ve been to Casseia, you know the sort of thing I’m talking about. Casseia has one tower, built very tall by aerika. Penelopeia has over twenty towers like that. You should be able to see them soon.”

  I leaned a little farther out the window and squinted. I could see something, up ahead, barely visible against the blue sky. As we got closer, I could see the towers more clearly—first two, then six, then more. They spiked up toward the sky like glittering needles, and as we grew closer I realized that some were partially shod in polished copper and brass. They must have aerika who do nothing but polish the metal. It was an appalling display of power. Zivar had told me once that she never felt that she had enough aerika, though she lost a bit more of herself every time she did a binding. I was certain that the metal-polishing aerika had not been bound by women like the high magia, but by their apprentices and lesser sisters, acting on orders.

  The sun was low in the sky. We were slowly descending now, and I thought I could see the Koryphe—the palace where the high magia and some of the other most highly placed Sisterhood members lived. White marble walls, partly clad, like the towers, in polished metal. A half dozen of the towers rose from within the outer walls; one had a glowing light inside like a beacon, and I wondered if the fire was tended by a human or a djinn. An aeriko; I need to remember to use the Greek words. My ears ached and felt as if they were filled with water; then I swallowed, and they cleared with a jolt of pain.

  The aeriko set the palanquin down gently in the courtyard. Slaves were already waiting to help each of us out. I felt a little light-headed and accepted the arm offered to me. We were in an inner courtyard of the palace, large enough to accommodate several more palanquins. A fountain splashed lightly in the center, and the walls were decorated with mosaic pictures of olive trees.

  Kyros was having a quiet conversation nearby; then he stepped over and said, “I’ve arranged for you to have a bath before you’re presented to the magia.”

  Presented to. Like a gift. I followed a slave who led me to a room of warm water and herb-scented steam. If I had any hope for an opportunity to run later, I needed to restrain the impulse to run now. There is nowhere to run to anyway. I am in Penelopeia, in the Koryphe. I wondered what Tamar was doing. The realization of how far away she was made me slightly dizzy. Weeks…months of travel. I tried to tell myself that I would see her again, but for the moment, all I could do was submit to the ministrations of the slaves as I was immersed in water, scrubbed clean, and picked free of lice.

  Once I was clean and dressed, I was escorted to one of the many interior gardens and left to wait…and wait…and wait. The night sky was dark; the courtyard was lit with torches. They’d dressed me in linen, with a light wool shawl for warmth, and sandals. I realized that my last material link to Tamar had been severed. The little talisman I’d made for myself—threads from her clothing knotted around my wrist—had disappeared in the bath. I rubbed my thumb against the palm of my right hand. We are blood sisters. They can’t ever truly separate us.

  My new clothes felt all wrong. Foreign. Everything was foreign. The night was warmer here than it had been back on the steppe, and the breeze had a strange misty softness, rather than the brisk edge I expected. There was a salty smell in the air, along with the perfume of the orange tree that grew beside the courtyard fountain and a warm, spicy smell that wafted from the doorway. Tea, I realized a moment later. The guard there was drinking tea.

  I couldn’t sit. I paced, instead, back and forth in the courtyard. In addition to the orange tree, there were copious flowers, even this early in the year, including some blood-red blooms shaped like a candle’s flame. I forced myself to slow my step and study the flowers, as a way to calm my mind, but it did little good.

  The guard in the doorway was female, I noticed. Last summer, Janiya had confided in me that she had once been a guard employed by the Sisterhood of Weavers in Penelopeia; they had their own elite cadre of women guards. I wondered how many of the people in the Koryphe were women. There was at least one man—Kyros—but I’d seen no others. The sorceress I’d studied with during the winter, Zivar, had permitted no men in her house, not
even slaves. Surely some of the sorceresses here were married, though…

  The guard cleared her throat. I looked up, and she beckoned; it was time to go. She stood back to allow me to go first, then followed behind, as if she thought I might flee. Maybe that means that there is somewhere to go? Or perhaps she always does this… Despite her boots, her step was quiet on the marble floors. The corridor was lit with oil lamps. I wondered if they were tended by human servants, or aerika.

  At the end of the corridor, we reached a closed door made from heavy wood. The guard rapped on the door and someone inside swung it open. The room was warm, and moist with the smell of breath and sweat, as if it hadn’t been opened for days. There was a long table, with chairs clustered at the other end. Kyros sat in one, and a thin older woman sat in the other. Her hands were folded over each other on the table. Her fingernails had been allowed to grow extremely long, and had been painted; they made me think of bloodstained claws. Her face was deeply lined. She was dressed in red silk that matched her claws, and had a gold bracelet that looked like a serpent coiled around her upper arm.

  Looking at her, I could see the cold fever lurking, but it did not master her—not today.

  “So,” she said. “You are the spy.”

  I swallowed hard. “Kyros sent me…”

  “…to spy, yes, of course, yet you didn’t just say yes, I am the spy. That’s very interesting. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because…because Kyros has lost his faith in me.”

  “Really? He seems to have a great deal of faith in you.” She glanced at him dismissively. “More than I think is warranted. He brought you here, had you bathed and given fresh clothes, as if you were truly his spy, returning from the field, ready to report. Strange. We sent him orders to have you executed.”

  “But I—”

  “Do you have anything useful to report? Anything that Kyros doesn’t already know? You were out of contact for a while, but then he sent an aeriko to watch you, so I can’t imagine you have all that much.”

  “Lycurgus,” I squeaked out.

  “We already know about Lycurgus. I’m done with you.” She gestured, and the guard stepped forward, laying her hand on my shoulder.

  “Wait—” This was happening so fast. “I tried—it’s not my fault—” I wondered if they would use a sword, or a rope, or grant me some more gruesome death. Let it be over with quickly, if they’re going to kill me…

  The sorceress had started to turn away; now she turned back and looked me straight in the eye. “Kyros clearly wants you spared, so we’ll leave your neck intact for now. Take her to the pit.” She turned away again.

  “Kyros,” I said. “KYROS!” I caught a glimpse of his face, his eyes wide and worried, and then other guards came, and I was swept away with them like a twig in the tide.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TAMAR

  Name your mother.”

  “My mother is the River that will return.”

  “Name your father.”

  “My father is the Steppe that gives us freedom.”

  Zhanna took my left hand. A priestess of Arachne whose name I didn’t know took my right hand. Janiya stepped forward and looked into my eyes. “You took your freedom, and you proved yourself over and over again. You weren’t born one of us, but you’re one of us now. Walk through fire and come out Alashi.”

  Cheers rang out as shaman and priestess walked me to the fire. The Greeks told their slaves that the Alashi made initiates walk through fire, and for a moment I felt a breath of fear. But they had no intention of hurting me. Zhanna and the priestess dropped my hands, picked up torches and set them alight, then held them high over their heads so that the flames licked against each other. I walked under the flaming bridge, then they tossed the torches into the fire. The Alashi crowded around me, each person lacing their fingers with mine and then kissing me on the forehead in a gesture of welcome. I made my way around the huge circle, then back to where I’d started.

  Now I would go through the ceremony again—this time, pretending to be Lauria. I slipped off my own vest and put on Lauria’s, then stood before the shaman and priestess again.

  “Name your mother,” Zhanna said.

  “My mother is the River that will return.” Lauria’s mother was alive, and I wondered fleetingly how she would feel about embracing the river as her adopted mother, even if she’d never much gotten along with her real mother. It was too late to ask. And the truth was, I was afraid that if I waited, the eldress would change her mind.

  “Name your father,” the priestess said.

  “My father is the Steppe that gives us freedom.” Lauria’s father was Kyros. I had no doubt that she would willingly disown him.

  Zhanna and the priestess clasped my hands again, and again Janiya stepped forward. Her eyes were bright and her voice very soft. “You took your freedom, and held it as tightly as any Alashi,” she said. “You stayed true to us when we were not true to you. You were not born one of us, but you’re one of us now. Walk through fire, Lauria, and come out Alashi.”

  I stepped under the torches again. The cheering this time was quieter. Meruert and Ruan and the other women from my sword sisterhood came to clasp my hands again, and kiss me. Beyond them, I saw a young man gazing at me. I couldn’t remember whether he had clasped my hands the first time, but when I reached for him now, he recoiled like I’d offered him a cup of poison and turned his back on me. My stomach twisted. Swallowing hard, I turned back to those who were willing to accept Lauria as well as me.

  There was kumiss and stewed lamb afterward, then drumming and dancing. The sword sisterhoods and brotherhoods would ride out tomorrow with the new recruits. Between Sophos’s slaves and the mine slaves, there were too many to assign only one blossom to each sword brotherhood and sword sisterhood. They would have to go out in groups. The feast was wonderful. I’d gotten tired of Alashi food during my summer with the sword sisterhood, but now it tasted like home. Well, other than kumiss. I still hated the thick, sour drink that everyone tried to press on me during the evening celebration.

  Ruan, who had been so nasty to me all summer, embraced me like a long-lost kinswoman and dragged me over to see the rest of the women from Janiya’s sisterhood—Maydan, Gulim, Zhanna. Maydan’s face lit with a warm smile. She leaned on a stick to help her walk. Erdene let me hold her new baby. Her daughter’s downy hair was the color of a chick’s feathers, clearly the gift of the trader who’d fathered the baby. Then Meruert spotted me and I went to see her and Jaran and the others who’d escaped from Sophos’s household, lone blue beads hanging on cords around their necks. Jaran looked at me nervously—he’d fled north to the steppe after selling Lauria to the mine, certain I’d have his head if I caught up with him. I’d forgiven Lauria for going behind my back, though, so I couldn’t really hold a grudge against Jaran. Much.

  Zhanna had met us on the steppe and warned Lauria to flee. Now she poured me kumiss and told me to sit by her side. I had been Zhanna’s apprentice during my summer with the sword sisterhood, but now she met my eyes like an equal. “I felt so proud when I heard what you’d done,” she whispered.

  “But you were the one who told me that the Alashi didn’t free slaves,” I said.

  “I never said I agreed with that rule.” Zhanna gazed for a long moment into my eyes, and I saw humor and the spark of something else. I looked down quickly. She sighed and stroked my back gently. “You are no longer my apprentice,” she said. “You’re a full-fledged shaman, though I think you know that.”

  I nodded.

  “And you are fully Alashi now, as well. So there are rules that don’t apply anymore.”

  What was she talking about? I lifted my head to look at her again. She gave me a level gaze and a hint of a smile. And I realized that she was inviting me to—I choked a little on my kumiss and put it down. I had no idea how to politely refuse. I had spent years not being allowed to refuse, but now—now—

  “Excuse me,” I said, and stood up. “I ne
ed to—” My mind went blank for a moment, and I almost bolted in panic. “I need to relieve myself. I’ll be back soon.”

  Zhanna sought me out, later, on the other side of the encampment. “Don’t worry,” she said, and I could see sympathy in her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you away. I just—well, I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for,” I said. I wanted to pretend nothing happened.

  “Do you want to come sit with us again? Just for companionship. I promise.”

  “That would be nice,” I said, and followed her back to the others.

  In the late-night firelight, I could see that many others had paired off. Some reunited with summer friends. Others enjoyed a last night with their lover from the winter. Zhanna hadn’t sought out anyone else, though I doubted she’d have had trouble finding company. I looked down at my kumiss and wondered what it would be like to spend an evening with someone I’d chosen. Someone I liked.

  When I joined the Alashi, the eldress said they would teach me to live as a free person. But when it came to this, Sophos’s hands still gripped me tightly. I shivered in the cold night wind, and wished Lauria were here.

  I must have fallen asleep during the night because someone nudged me awake at dawn—Janiya. “The eldress wants us to leave today,” she said. “Get your horse ready.”

  I’d drunk only the kumiss I couldn’t refuse, but my head ached and my tongue stuck to my teeth. I washed my face and rinsed my mouth, but I still felt like something scraped off the bottom of a boot. Well, it couldn’t be helped. I went to find my horse.

  Janiya joined me as I saddled Kesh. “The eldress is sending us with remounts and packhorses. We’ll be able to travel quickly.”

  “How much karenite did she give you?”

  Janiya handed me a heavy pouch. I peered in. There were hundreds of pebbles of the stuff. I swallowed hard and closed the bag. “I don’t want to bring this much.”

  “The Alashi don’t lack for it.”