Eidolon Read online

  "What in the name of Emlek are they doing?" Necos said, his eyes wide. "They can't fight those things with swords."

  Kirgipa glanced at Dendarah who watched the commotion for a moment before answering. "They aren't." She pointed to the group. "Look at them. All are old, long retired from service. They aren't there to fight; they're there to die."

  Dendarah was right. The contingent of armed Kai consisted of men and women who might have been her own grandparents. They rode to the opposite shore, dismounted and set the horses loose. The leader, a Kai man with his black hair silvered by advanced age, faced his troops and the river. Hunched and elderly he might be, but his voice carried strong and true over the dying screams of the Kai and the howls of the galla.

  "There is no better legacy to leave than this—to die in the effort to save our descendents. Join with me so that those who came after us will live to remember."

  He then put his back to the river and spread his arms. Those who followed him lined up on either side, grasping forearms and linking to each other until they forged a living chain that stretched along a portion of the riverbank.

  Kirgipa's heart ached at their bravery, and she hugged her small charge to her breast for solace. Beside her, Dendarah's voice rang hard and bitter. "Duty is a weighty burden." She met Kirgipa's eyes, her face drawn and aged. "My first purpose is to protect your charge. It is your purpose as well, and Necos's. But I would be lying if I said I don't wish with all my heart to be among those who stand unyielding before the enemy." She pointed to the river. "See there? The words of a brave leader are their own powerful magic."

  People left the water's sanctuary, mostly elderly but some in their prime. They waded to land, unheeding of the frantic relatives who tried to hold them back. Others abandoned the safety of the opposite shore and swam the river after them. Grandfathers and grandmothers, soldiers long retired from the field and many whose professions bore nothing of war and glory. They joined their comrades, bound together in a line that now stretched far down the river's banks.

  Kirgipa's heart lurched to a horrified stop at the sight that met her eyes. Her mother, Tarawin, wet from the river, joined the chain. Atalan, Kirgipa's sister, stood hip-deep in the water, begging her not to go. Kirgipa screamed and lunged toward the shore, forgetting the baby in her arms and the guards who watched over her. "No, Muta! Don't!"

  She would have fallen into the water had Necos not hauled her back. Dendarah plucked the baby out of her arms, leaving Kirgipa's hands free. She swung at Necos, writhing in his arms to get free. "Let me go! That's my muta in the line! My sister in the river!"

  Necos shook her so hard, her vision blackened at the edges. "Stop, Kirgipa!" He spun her to face the river, his grip on her shoulders like shackles, unbreakable, unyielding. He pointed to a spot in the chain. "My oldest brother is there," he said, indicating a man of middle years. He pointed to the man beside him. "Our uncle." He turned her to face him, and Kirgipa keened at the grief in his eyes. "They have made their choice, and it's a courageous one. Our memories will preserve their sacrifice as heroic. Honor that choice by staying alive and doing your duty."

  She could only gasp and moan, sick with the knowledge that she and her sister were about to watch their mother die. "My sister," she said on a hiccup. "She's in the river."

  Assured that Kirgipa wouldn't try to rescue her mother, Dendarah returned the infant to her. "Can she swim?" Kirgipa assured her she could. "Then she's in the safest place of all."

  She had no opportunity to argue. The galla ravaging that side of the city reached the riverbank. The Kai locked arm and arm along the riverbank began to chant, and then they began to glow. Their magic, the strength of earlier generations, arced across their linked arms until it suffused their entire bodies, creating a luminous blue barrier that brightened the oncoming night and whipped the living darkness into a frenzy.

  Not a barrier. Bait. Kirgipa shuddered, her gaze frozen on the shimmering column of cerulean light that was her mother. The Kai still in the river and those on the shore had gone silent. The river's dull roar filled the quiet, along with the chant of spells that awakened a Kai's magic and the ravenous screeches of galla.

  Dendarah forced Kirgipa to face her. The guard's features were pinched. "Do not let this be your last memory of her. I will watch. I will remember." She glanced at Necos. "I'll do the same for you."

  Necos shook his head, his gaze locked on the spot where his brother and uncle stood. "I carry the burden of this memory willingly."

  Kirgipa clutched Dendarah's sleeve. "Promise you'll save my sister when it's done."

  "I'll do my best."

  She knew when the galla struck by the collective gasp inhaled by the Kai standing around her. She almost turned, stopped by Dendarah who pulled her into her embrace, the baby between them.

  More screams, these loud and long and so piercing as to crack the moon above them. They were the cries of the dying and the cries of those who watched them die. Kirgipa shuddered in Dendarah's embrace and prayed that their suffering would speedily end, that her mother would perish instantly and not know agony.

  In the end, she couldn't judge if the attack lasted moments or months. It seemed to last lifetimes. When Dendarah freed her long enough to face the river, the blue glow born from Kai magic and the men and women who formed it was gone. Only a wall of writhing shadow fenced the far shore, nebulous shapes made of crimson eyes, pointed claws and jagged fangs that dissolved into smoke and char only to reform again and again. The river itself was bloated with more people. Those who had sacrificed themselves to the galla had allowed everyone still trapped on the shore to reach the water in time.

  The mass churned at the river's edge, its frustration at not being able to feast on the victims just beyond its reach, palpable. Howls and rapid clicks, as of teeth gnashing together, filled the air. Behind the black wall, the palace rose in the distance, a ravaged silhouette under the rising moon's light.

  Dendarah spoke behind Kirgipa. "So falls the kingdom of Bast-Haradis."

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ildiko clenched her fists and cracked her knuckles within the folds of her gown as she viewed the kitchen’s main worktable. Saggara’s head cook had laid out a sampling of each dish to be served at the banquet she and Brishen would host the following day in celebration of Kaherka, the Kai feast of plenty.

  “For you, Hercegesé.” The cook handed her a plate and flashed Ildiko a sharp-toothed smile.

  As hostess of this gathering and mistress of the household, it was her responsibility to taste and approve the dishes created by Saggara’s kitchen staff. Ildiko didn’t normally balk at this particular duty. She enjoyed many of the foods the Kai prepared and ate—all save one: she gripped the plate and tried not to stare too hard at the scarpatine pie that breathed and beckoned at the opposite end of the table, the sharp point of a venomous barb poking through a crust glistening with butter.

  Cook was obviously watching her much closer than Ildiko guessed. She strode to the pie perched on a decorative tray and lifted it with a coaxing gesture. “Do you wish to try this first, Your Highness?”

  “No!” Ildiko cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “No thank you, Cook. I’ll start at this end.” She hoped by the time she made it to where the pie waited to do battle, her stomach wouldn’t try to flee her body via her throat at the idea of eating a steaming, freshly butchered piece of scarpatine.

  She took her time, nibbling at the small portions cut or scooped and placed onto her plate. A few had once made her hesitate. The dishes she had grown up eating as a Gauri noblewoman didn’t include such things as honey-roasted locusts or the sipla grubs smoked, then stewed in a spicy pepper sauce that threatened to burn her tongue to a pile of ash when she first tried them. The scarpatine pie grew ever closer, and Ildiko ate slower and slower. Beside her, Cook shifted impatiently from foot to foot.

  Ildiko almost leapt across the table to hug the steward in gratitude when he appeared in the doorway. Mesumenes flinched
at her grin before his features smoothed into a stoic expression. “Hercegesé, if I may, a moment of your time.”

  Cook’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the steward, her tall frame stiff with annoyance at the interruption. “Shall I save this for your approval later, Your Highness?”

  Satisfied with what she’d already tried and thrilled not to have to sample the pie, Ildiko handed Cook her unfinished plate. “No, of course not. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve tried so far, and I’m sure our guests will too. I have every faith that all of these dishes will be enthusiastically devoured.” Any of the guests were more than welcome to her share of the scarpatine.

  Cook preened at her praise, directed a last sniff of disapproval at Mesumenes and ordered her small army of cooks and scullions back to work.

  Ildiko accompanied the steward into the dark corridor outside the kitchens. He led her to a pool of yellow light spilling from a single torch mounted in an iron sconce bolted to the stonework. He handed her a bound stack of documents.

  “You’ve the look of a man with a weighty question, steward.” She glanced at the first page, noting the writing was in a mix of both Common and Gauri.

  Mesumenes clasped his hands behind his back and settled his weight on his heels, a sure sign he was about to give Ildiko an earful. “The first cargo of trade goods from Gaur has arrived by barge. It’s docked outside of Escariel township. The crew has unloaded Gauri goods and is waiting to load the shipment of amaranthine specified in the trade agreement.

  Silence stretched between them until Ildiko coaxed him into further expounding with an “And?”

  Frown lines cut paths in the space between his eyebrows. “A messenger from the township sent this manifest from the dock master. They can’t take possession of the Gauri goods until they can verify accurate shipment.”

  Ildiko looked back at the papers in her hand, flipping through each one slowly this time. The more she read, the angrier she grew. She met Mesumenes’s glowing gaze. “Is this supposed to be a joke? Who decided to send a manifest with weights and measures in Gauri Old Form?”

  He shrugged. “No one can say, but neither the dock master nor I are familiar with the language, so we can’t calculate the amounts to make sure that what’s listed is what has been delivered.”

  The heat of an embarrassed blush crawled up her neck, burning her cheeks and ears. This was the first real trade exchange between the two countries enacted beyond sheaves of parchment signed and stamped since she and Brishen married, and someone in Gaur had decided to try their hand at a bit of deceit and trickery. Such an action cast her people in a poor light.

  The agreement between Gaur and Bast-Haradis had been the trade of luxury items to the Kai: exotic teas and spices, semi-precious stones, high quality glass, cotton fabrics and gold-spun embroidery. All for the valuable amaranthine dye, processed and sold only by the Kai.

  Indignant and ashamed, Ildiko crinkled part of the manifest in her tight grip. Mesumenes took a cautious step back when she spoke. “Tell the messenger to wait and have a horse saddled. I’ll accompany him back to Escariel.”

  She didn’t shout or snap, but the steward leapt to do her bidding. In no time, a mount was readied, along with a contingent of a half dozen soldiers who accompanied her on the half-hour ride to Escariel.

  They arrived at the docks that hugged the Absu’s deeper banks where a crowd of Kai mingled amongst cargo unloaded from boats. Bales of cloth and sacks filled with various goods occupied any available space alongside rows of baskets, amphorae and barrels. The river swelled with flat-bottom barges moored to bollards with lengths of rope. The barges nestled together, creating wharves of their own as the crews busily transferred shipments according to the shouted orders of a dockmaster or barge captain. It was an orderly chaos carried out under moonlight and beneath the flicker of torchlight.

  The messenger who had brought the manifest to Saggara led them through the throng. Ildiko ignored the weight of Kai gazes as she passed. She had resided in Saggara for over a year and grown used to the curiosity she represented. The Kai living in villages closest to Saggara were more used to the sight of humans than the insular population in the capital. They stared not because she was a human among them but because she was a human married to one of their own.

  They rode past barrels marked with magenta-colored hashmarks and stamped on the lids with the Saggara territorial seal. Amaranthine waiting be loaded and transported to Gaur. The cluster of clerks who sat behind makeshift desks constructed of planks of wood laid across empty barrels argued in a mixture of bast-Kai and Common with three humans. Ildiko listened as the exchange grew increasingly loud and hostile, with Kai refusing to release the barrels until they verified the manifest and the humans demanding to load cargo without more delay.

  The argument ceased abruptly when she and her escort halted before them. The Kai scrambled to their feet and bowed together. The three humans stared at her for a moment, puzzled, until they too realized who paid them a visit. Like the Kai, they bowed.

  “Your Highness,” one group said in Gauri.

  “Hercegesé,” the other said in bast-Kai.

  Ildiko dismounted, manifest in hand. She nodded to the clerks. “Where is your dock master?”

  “I’ll fetch him directly, Hercegesé.” One of the clerks sped away and disappeared into the crowd.

  Ildiko eyed the three humans, her gaze settling on an older man, grizzled by the elements and years spent sailing the waterways. “Which of you is the barge captain or second mate?”

  Her guess was correct. The man stepped forward and bowed a second time. “Your Highness, I am Captain Glay of the Sly Fox.” He jerked a thumb toward the barge behind him.

  Ildiko raised an eyebrow. Considering their current problem, she thought the barge name appropriate. She waved the stack of papers she held at him. “We have an issue with the cargo manifest, Captain. It seems the port master in Gaur gave you one that, unless you’re a Gauri priest or tutored by one, is impossible to read.”

  The captain’s smiling features turned shuttered, and his shoulders tensed. “I wouldn’t know, Your Highness,” he said in carefully bland tones. “We loaded from the sailing ship Seahorse. Her captain assured me all cargo was accounted for. It all looks right to me, so we’ll take the dye and backhaul it to Gaur if you please.”

  Ildiko flipped through the pages, chewing on her lower lip as she perused the lists of items with their quantities and weights—all of it in Gauri Old Form. “I don’t please,” she said. “The Kai clerks can’t verify your manifest because they can’t translate it.” She thrust the manifest at him. “Can you?” She smothered a laugh when he took a step back as if she handed him a live viper. “I didn’t think so. That’s because someone thought it would be a good idea to list amounts in temple language. Why that someone would assume Gauri priests linger at Kai wharves to accept tithes and offerings is a puzzle, wouldn’t you say?”

  Captain Glay’s gaze slid to one side. He shrugged as if such things happened all the time. “I suppose, Your Highness. However, I assure you, the delivery matches the manifest.”

  She did laugh then. He obviously thought she in affairs unsuitable for a woman and should trust him because they shared a commonality—they were both human. She addressed him over her shoulder as she made her way to one of the desks where the Kai clerks tallied cargo. “I’m sure it does, but you’ll have to humor me. You and the Kai may not be able to translate Old Form, but I can.”

  Thank the gods for the Gauri custom of having priests tutor the nobility. Ildiko had found the lessons excessively dull, and she was an average student at best, but average was all she needed right now to translate the manifest.

  She pointed to one of the desks vacated by a clerk. “May I?”

  A selection of stools for her sit on and quills with which to write were donated by all the clerks, their fangs gleaming ivory in the semi-darkness as they smirked in triumph at the barge captain.

  He was far less accomm
odating. His hands clenched at his sides, and he spoke through clenched teeth. “Your Highness, this will take hours and put me behind schedule.”

  Ildiko clucked her tongue in false sympathy. “An unfortunate result of another’s inappropriate humor. I suggest, that when you return, you speak with whoever drafts these manifests and strongly encourage them to use the language of trade instead of temple.” She ignored his glare, opened the manifest to the first set of lists and dipped her quill into the nearby inkpot. “Let’s get started shall we? I’m sure none of us want to still be here at dawn.”

  The dock master arrived before the captain could offer up any more argument. He bowed to Ildiko, not hiding his surprise at the sight of her perched behind the makeshift desk. “Saggara received my message. I expected Mesumenes with a reply, not the hercegesé herself.” He sounded both pleased and confused. “How may I be of assistance, Your Highness?”

  Ildiko waved her quill at him. “I’m only here to translate. I leave the coordination of all this cargo to you.”

  Had she been a Gauri priest herself, the translation would have gone much faster, but years had passed since she labored over lessons in temple text, and she muddled slowly through the list. The captain paced and muttered and sometimes left her for his barge only to return moments later, bestowing hot glares on her that she blithely ignored.

  Dawn had not yet cracked the black horizon when she finished, but it was close, and her fingers curled cramped and ink-stained around the quill before she set it aside and exhaled a relieved breath. “Done,” she said and smiled triumphantly at the dock master. He nodded and the barge captain pumped a celebratory fist in the air.

  He gave her and the manifest a wary look. “We’re free to go then?”