A Blight of Blackwings Page 3

  I don’t know what to think of this Raelech bard who’s decided to travel with me. He smiles easily and laughs a lot and has wonderful stories to share. He speaks Nentian and even knows a few Nentian songs. But he also thinks I’m somebody important, someone good for the world, and that makes me nervous. Or ashamed. A whole suite of emotions, really, because I don’t think I’m very good.

  I’ve killed people who may or may not have deserved it. My actions have caused others—among them my family—to be killed by creatures of the plains. Two viceroys—Melishev Lohmet and Bhamet Senesh—would like to see me dead. And maybe the king would like the same, even though we are riding directly to him to find out. Riding on horses we stole from the Nentian cavalry.

  Fintan dismisses my worries as “growing pains.” Mere misunderstandings.

  “The Sixth Kenning is going to change the world. Not just Ghurana Nent. It’s going to be great for everyone, the way Brynt hygienists are great for everyone.”

  “You’re thinking about how pests will leave your crops alone and how safe your chickens will be from foxes, right?”

  “Well, sure.”

  “We’re a long way from bringing peace to the henhouses of Rael,” I told him. “Before we get to that point, a lot needs to change in this country, which is organized around the fact that the animals of the plains are incredibly dangerous. So much of our freedom is circumscribed by concern for our safety. Our oppression is for our own safety. We must endure the taxes and rule of a corrupt nobility for our own safety. It is the primary justification for their actions, their favorite lever of power. So when the beast callers come along and say, Hey, we don’t have to be afraid of the beasts anymore, how do you think our noble rulers are going to react?”

  “I think I see.”

  “Yes. They’d like us to disappear if possible. Or, failing that, they’re going to make people distrust us and say that we are the new threat to their safety, casting us as the bad guys.”

  “You’ve thought a lot about this already.”

  “Yes,” I replied, leaving out the fact that I’d thought through much of it with the help of Tamhan, who was back in Khul Bashab. I wondered how he was; whether Hanima, Sudhi, and Adithi were all well and making progress on starting the beast callers clave. “I know a little of the world’s history. The people who discovered the kennings never lived long.”

  “They were the fulcrums of history.”

  I greeted that sentence with a few moments of silence before responding. “Okay, sure, that’s one way to look at it. Another way is that they were consumed by the people they wanted to help. And the thing is, Fintan, I do want to help. But I don’t want to be some tragic figure people learn about ages hence from bards.”

  “Oh. Oh! You don’t think I’m just waiting around for you to die, do you?”

  “No. I mean…are you?”

  “No! I’m certainly interested in what you do next, but I very much want to witness your victories.”

  “Well, thanks. But victories imply battles, and I’d rather avoid those.”

  “Understood, but change won’t happen without conflict. Anytime someone wants to try something new, some ancient sack of bones starts talking about tradition and how it’s worked great so far, and inertia therefore keeps terrible situations terrible. If you don’t want to encounter conflict, what would you rather do?”

  “I think I’d like to explore. See the world with Murr and Eep.” My friends, a bloodcat and a stalk hawk, paced beside us in the grass. “And figure out a way to change things for the better without hurting people.”

  “You sound a bit like Olet Kanek.”

  “I do? Wait, who’s that?”

  “You do sound like her, in general. She’s the daughter of Hearthfire Winthir Kanek, who rules Tharsif and Narvik. Didn’t you see her at Baghra Khek? Tall redhead in armor.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember. We didn’t talk much.”

  “Well, I was stuck on a boat once with her and Jerin Mogen, and they dreamt of starting a new city somewhere that wasn’t beholden to the ways of their fathers.”

  That did sound a bit like me. I didn’t want to be beholden to the ways of my father either. “Do you think it is ridiculous to dream such things? Are such changes even possible?”

  “Of course they are! Were you taught about what the Fornish were like before the Fifth Kenning was discovered? The clans warred constantly. The First Tree made them stop all that and put the Canopy first. Now some of the clans still bicker, but they don’t shed blood.”

  “Okay, yeah, but that’s the First Tree imposing order. I can’t impose anything.”

  “You could.”

  “By throwing my power around and growing old so fast that I die young? No thanks.”

  “It’s not desirable, no.”

  “Not at all. Let’s hope the king will be receptive to change without blood. I mean, if he’ll even agree to see us. Kings don’t typically talk to hunters.”

  “He’ll see us. We have information he wants.”

  When we presented ourselves at the palace, we were able to get an audience by saying we had news of the Battle of the Godsteeth, as the bard decided to call it. The king already knew the result, since Olet Kanek had arrived some days ago, but he wanted to hear Fintan’s account, because he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

  King Kalaad the Unaware was an elderly man whose hair had gone from glossy black to glossy white, and his eyes were piercing. He appeared hyperaware to me. I wondered if the epithets attached to kings made them strive to be the opposite of whatever theirs was.

  “Welcome, bard,” he said, and then the eyes fell on me. “And you, citizen. I’m told you’re a hunter who also witnessed the battle?”

  “Yes, sir. I participated in it.”

  “Participated? So you’re in the army?”

  “No, sir, I was more of a mercenary, employed by Viceroy Lohmet. I stampeded a boil of kherns into the lavaborn as they emerged from their walls to wipe out the Fornish catapults, effectively ending the battle. The rest of the Hathrim surrendered after that.”

  The king leaned forward in his throne, his eyes searching me up and down. “So you’re the boy who supposedly found the Sixth Kenning?”

  “I did find it, yes, sir.”

  “You can control animals?”

  “I don’t wish to control anyone. But I can speak to them, and they often do as I ask. And I can sleep on the plains without fear of flesh eels or any other creature.”

  As I had done with the viceroy’s chamberlain, I proved that animals would listen to me by requesting the palace vermin to show themselves briefly before being dismissed to return to their hiding places. It would have been better to demonstrate with Murr and Eep, but I’d had to leave them outside the city, since I couldn’t guarantee their safety. The king leaned back, considering the small tide of bugs and rodents fleeing his throne room. “This is suddenly the most interesting audience I’ve ever had. Arguably the most interesting audience ever for a king of Ghurana Nent. Evidence of a new kenning doesn’t happen every day. I’m told you wish to start a clave, with the right to refuse commissions.”

  “Yes, sir. As I dislike controlling others, I wish not to be controlled.”

  “You would refuse to aid your country?”

  “I did not refuse to fight the Hathrim at the Godsteeth. Viceroy Lohmet engaged me to eliminate the lavaborn and I did, resulting in their surrender and preserving the lives of your army. My willingness to aid the country against invasion should not be in question, sir.”

  “So, tell me, Abhinava Khose, what should I question?”

  “I will not use the Sixth Kenning against our own people to compel their obedience, to punish them, or to be used in any way as a lever of power. The Sixth Kenning should be a boon to all
Nentians and not a hammer wielded against them.”

  The king’s mouth turned upward on one side. “Does that courtesy extend to me? To my viceroys, officials, and soldiers?”

  “It does. So long as they do not try to compel my service with threats. There will no doubt be great demand for the clave’s services, and the clave, not the government, gets to choose which projects will receive priority.”

  The king laughed and clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Ah, negotiating already! Well, we should. We certainly should. There is much to think about, and when we get more of the blessed—there must be more already, am I right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, the more there are, the more we’ll need a framework for their employ, or we’ll have chaos. I confess I haven’t taken time to read the draft agreement Lohmet sent me; it only just arrived. I am glad you’ve come to me here so that we can speak directly and not have to worry about delays or the reliability of intermediaries. It will take some time, regardless, to think things through. Can you stay for a while so that I can clear my schedule and be involved in the talks?”

  “Yes, sir.” His willingness to even discuss a clave, much less accept one, surprised me immensely, and I wasn’t sure I could trust it. The viceroys had given me the impression that the king would never permit a clave outside the government’s control. Which suggested they were lying shitsnakes. Or maybe the king was, and this was all a ruse to lower my guard so he could hit me with a fatal “accident” later. It would be easy for him to arrange something and I’d have to be wary. But he seemed eager to proceed at the moment.

  “Excellent. Do mornings or afternoons work better for you?”

  “I prefer mornings, sir.”

  “Discuss the dawn of a new era at dawn! I like it.” The king immediately told the chamberlain to clear or reschedule his commitments in the mornings for the next week, and then he asked Fintan to recount what he’d seen at the Battle of the Godsteeth, just to compare it to the reports he’d received from others.

  I could not believe this was going so well. King Kalaad was infinitely more patient and open than I’d been led to believe; he was a far better leader than his viceroys. Was he unaware of how terrible Melishev Lohmet was? Were all of his viceroys awful humans and he simply didn’t know? Or did he know and approve, a poisonous serpent on the throne that was bright and beautiful and yet incredibly deadly? Fintan had barely started his narrative of the battle when a breathless page burst in, all apologies, to interrupt.

  “Sir, Hearthfire Winthir Kanek is here, and he demands an audience most urgently.”

  King Kalaad blinked several times, trying to process the revelation. “Winthir Kanek is here? Now?”

  “He’s in the foyer with one other giant.”

  “No army behind him?”

  “I’m told there are more giants on his ship, but it appears to be a normal crew.”

  The king looked to his chamberlain. “His daughter left the city days ago, correct? Rowing upriver?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did any choose to return to Hathrir?”

  “No, sir. They all went with her.”

  “All right, let him approach. You two, however,” he said to Fintan and me, “need to get out. If he’s angry about the defeat of Gorin Mogen, he’d better not see you here.”

  “Is there any way we might hear his audience but remain unseen, sir?” Fintan asked.

  The king paused, then hooked a thumb over his right shoulder. “The rearmost guard space is empty. I wouldn’t mind a perfect recall of this audience, so you can listen there, but remain quiet and do not reveal yourselves until he has exited.”

  I didn’t know what he meant at first, but evidently Fintan did. While the king ordered more guards to be brought in for a visual show of force, the bard led me to the indicated wall, which was covered in a remarkable tapestry of plains animals. Upon closer inspection, I saw that there were doors on hinges that swung both ways, leading to small rooms in which a bodyguard could wait and watch. A view slot of mesh fabric allowed us to see and not be seen, and these corresponded to areas of shadow in the tapestry.

  It was a tight squeeze in there for the two of us, but we made it work and were both able to watch through the view slot as Winthir Kanek stormed into the skylight room.

  His hair very nearly brushed the ceiling, and I saw why he was feared among the Hathrim. He was powerfully built, even for a giant, perhaps even more muscled than Gorin Mogen. His braided blond hair and beard fell over his lava dragon leathers, and he did not look like he had come for a pleasant chat. His jaw was set in a grim line, and I could tell he was clenching his teeth so he wouldn’t bellow at someone. He was unarmed in the conventional sense, but a firelord like him could set the room aflame with little effort, and the giant with him was blessed with the First Kenning as well, since he was also wearing the lava dragon leathers.

  “King Kalaad,” Winthir growled in broken Nentian, “thank you for seeing me on short notice. This is the famous fury Pinter Stuken.”

  “Stones and bones,” Fintan whispered. “Olet told me about him.”

  “Welcome, Hearthfire Kanek,” the king said. “I was told the matter was urgent.”

  “It is. But first I must congratulate you on your victory at the Godsteeth. Gorin Mogen behaved rashly and paid for it.”

  “Thank you. You must have heard about it very quickly to have gotten here in advance of my own army’s return.”

  “I did, and I hired a Kaurian cyclone to speed my journey here, because my daughter was with Mogen and I heard that she sailed here instead of home.”

  “That she did.”

  The hearthfire’s eyes flickered with blue flames. “Where is she?”

  King Kalaad said, “Somewhere upriver. She wants to settle down in the Gravewood.”

  “Do not jest with me. I am not in the mood. I want my daughter now.”

  “I do not jest. She and her party left here immediately after stopping to take on supplies.”

  “You just let her go?”

  “Why would I stop her? She wants to build a city in exchange for food and then pay me taxes.”

  Winthir Kanek pointed a finger at the ground and then at himself. His face was red, and the finger was too, the tip almost incandescent with heat. “She has obligations to her country,” he ground out. “Obligations to me.”

  “She did not mention them. And even if she did, it’s not my place to get involved with her family duties. She did say she didn’t want to return to Hathrir, and obviously neither did anyone else in her party.”

  “So she’s made herself hearthfire of Mogen’s people?”

  “I don’t know. She never used that title and I never heard anyone call her that.”

  “I want her back.”

  The king threw up his hands. “And I want a pet beaver. Look, I can send any message you like upriver, but obviously I can’t produce her now.”

  “That’s not good enough. She can simply say she never got the message. I’ll catch up to her myself.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Hearthfire.”

  “What? Didn’t you just say it’s not your place to get involved in family matters?”

  “It’s not, and I promise to do whatever I can to help. But I just can’t have you wandering around with a fury in tow. The last hearthfire who was allowed to stay in Ghurana Nent did not behave well.”

  “I am not Gorin Mogen.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “I’m much more dangerous.”

  “I’ll take your word as gold.”

  “You really shouldn’t patronize me. Let me go find my daughter, King Kalaad, or I will burn your city to the ground.”

  That was an outrageous bluff. The guardsmen shifted at that
and a few raised their crossbows. The king held out a hand to stay them and called him on it.

  “That is a ridiculous ultimatum, sir.”

  “I’ve already sailed all the way up here. That should hint at my commitment to bringing her home myself. I will not be stopped. You defy me at your peril.”

  Maybe he wasn’t bluffing.

  “You’d start a war. The Fornish, the Raelechs, even the Brynts and Kaurians would get involved.”

  “Only if anyone survives to tell them I’m responsible. Otherwise it’s a tragic accident, isn’t it? Fires happen all the time. Final warning: Let me go.”

  “I don’t imagine you’d take kindly to anyone showing up at your hall and issuing commands. Let me draft a message with you and affix my seal and send it upriver with my fastest courier.”

  “Enough.” The hearthfire turned to his fury. “Pinter, the guards. Now.”

  The fury turned into pure fire. Flames licked out to the hands and faces of all the guards at once, so that they couldn’t bring their crossbows to bear; their nerves forced them to drop the weapons instead, but then they just kept burning. The lava dragon armor fell to the floor, and Winthir Kanek dropped with it, flattening himself in a push-up to reduce his silhouette if any guards were fortunate enough to take a shot. The hearthfire stretched out a hand and sent a gout of flame to kill King Kalaad—an act of such impetuousness and sheer evil that I could scarce believe it. No wonder Olet wanted to get away from him. He casually murdered people who didn’t give him what he wanted.

  Guards popped out of the secret compartments like ours, two on either side of the throne, and Fintan placed an arm against my chest to ensure I didn’t do the same and make myself a target. One guard did get a shot off at the hearthfire, and the bolt sank into the meat of his left biceps, but he and the others were soon human candles. The tapestry on the wall caught fire near the throne, and the flames began to work their way across the wall toward us. There was no one left alive in the skylight room but the Hathrim and us.

  Pinter Stuken coalesced into human form again and bent to pick up his lava dragon hide.