Throne of Ruins (The Powers of Amur Book 5) Read online

  When Mandhi and her group came to meet him, he emerged from among the Kaleksha kitchen staff wiping his hands with an oily rag. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What do you want?” he said. He took in Kest and Glanod at a glance, but his eyes lingered on Mandhi, the only woman in the group, and on Nakhur wearing the saghada’s white.

  Nakhur spoke first. “We’re here to pay the debts incurred by our brothers.”

  “And who are they?”

  “The os Dramab,” Kest answered. Pride and shame mingled in his voice as he said his family name.

  “The ones that come in here making trouble?” the owner barked gruffly. “The ones who don’t know how to sail?”

  “That would be them,” Nakhur said dryly. “But I don’t see what their sailing ability has to do with anything.”

  “Because they break the sailors’ taboos,” the owner said, giving them an evil look. “Fights get started that way.”

  “Our apologies,” Glanod said. “Only a few of them have been sailors.”

  “Then how did they get here?”

  “That’s not your concern,” Nakhur said, “But if they have unpaid bills—”

  “Oh, they do,” the man said. “Let me get my slate.”

  He ducked back into the kitchen, and a moment later returned with a piece of messily chalked slate. He tapped a number. “Twelve dhrama, six ghita.”

  Nakhur sighed. “That seems like a lot—”

  “I’ve had seventeen men calling themselves os Dramab in here in the past weeks,” the man said testily. He tapped the slate. “They worked up a thirst in that time. And I put in the damage they caused when they fought with the sailors.”

  “Fine,” said Mandhi. She gave Nakhur a pleading glare. “Just pay him.”

  Nakhur loosened the purse hidden beneath his kurta. He began to count out the clay coins of different sizes.

  While he counted Mandhi warned the bartender. “If any of the os Dramab return, don’t serve them. And definitely don’t put them on a tab.”

  The man looked Mandhi over with contempt. “Who is this woman telling me how to run my business?”

  “My wife,” Kest said. He stepped forward and put a hand on Mandhi’s shoulder. “Listen to her.”

  “Maybe you should keep a watch on her mouth. If your men come in here—”

  Nakhur dropped the coins into the man’s hand. “Never mind the woman. Leave our men alone.”

  The four of them turned away. Mandhi muttered to Kest as they reached for the door, “That’s a lot of money to spend on getting your cousins out of debt. Reminds me of Navran.”

  “Navran?” Kest said. “The one that Taleg died for?”

  “The very one. He—”

  The thought was interrupted by a bellow from the back of the room. A black-haired Kaleksha man with a thick, curly beard set a bowl of rice beer down on the table and shouted, “Hey!” He rose to his feet and lumbered across the room, stooping down to glower over Nakhur. He was exceptionally tall, even for a Kaleksha. Nakhur came up to his shoulder, and Kest up to his nose.

  “Your os Dramab owe me, as well,” the man said. He folded his arms. “Games of sacchu where they shorted me.”

  Kest stepped forward, gently pushing Mandhi aside. “I don’t think so. Just because we paid the house-master—”

  The man shoved Kest backward. “They owe me. You pay.”

  “Do you have a record?” Mandhi asked. “The house-master—”

  “Shut up, woman,” the man said. He scowled down at Kest. A long rumble of Kaleksha abuse poured out of his mouth.

  Glanod answered, also in Kaleksha. Their volume rose. Kest’s hands formed into fists, and he took a step toward the man.

  “Stop,” Mandhi hissed, putting a hand on Kest’s bicep. “Let’s just go.”

  “We’re going,” Nakhur said a little more loudly. He put his foot on the first step of the stairs that ascended to street level.

  Kest and Glanod turned away from the black-haired man. “Hurry,” Mandhi said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They stepped out into the street. The red and green flags that marked the edge of the district were thirty yards away. Nakhur walked toward the boundary quickly, with Mandhi following and the two Kaleksha men following her.

  They got most of the way to the exit before the shouting of the man in the guesthouse reached them. Mandhi did not bother to look back. “Just go,” she hushed, and motioned Kest forward. They crossed beneath the flags and into the main street.

  Then the stone hit her.

  The force of it threw her forward. A blunt, crushing pain pounded her lower ribs. Her hands scraped in the dust and grit, and she cried out.

  Another stone shattered against the wall beside her. Nakhur knelt next to her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m—” she gasped. Her breath came in spasms. She felt a bolt of pain in her lower ribs every time she tried to inhale.

  Shouting. She heard Kest and Glanod, but not just them. A whole crowd of Kaleksha giants. Mandhi heard another scream—not Kest or Glanod, but a bystander in the crowd. The crunch of falling stones sounded around them. She heard Kest shouting and glimpsed him brawling in the corner of her eye.

  The volume of shouting and screaming grew. The Amurans in the street had joined the chaos, some of them advancing toward the knot of Kaleksha, some fleeing. Someone was hurling epithets at Glanod. She heard Kest grunting and swearing, and the angry roars of one of the other Kaleksha. Her husband was beating the tall, black-haired Kaleksha, pummeling the man’s fat stomach with his own knobby fists.

  Then the sound of metal beating against leather, and an imperious shout.

  “Everyone halt!” a commanding voice sounded. There was a clatter of bronze hitting wood, and another command. “Halt!”

  “They were the ones,” someone shouted. “It started when they came out.”

  A soldier with a green-bordered kurta stepped into Mandhi’s line of vision. “You four, stop. Explain yourselves.”

  Kest paused from his battering of the other man, and the dark-haired Kaleksha shoved Kest to the side. Kest wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

  “This thug attacked me,” the dark-haired man said. He stood, glowering down at the guard. “Owes me money, too.”

  “Liar,” Kest shouted. He stood and leaned menacingly toward the other man.

  The dark-haired one swung his fist at Kest. Kest leaned back and slugged the other in the stomach with his fist before being tackled by one of the soldiers.

  “All of you, stop it,” the chief soldier said. “I don’t want any Kaleksha fighting in the streets. You want to fight, you keep it in your own quarter.”

  “He started it,” Kest growled. He struggled against the smaller Amuran man atop him and succeeded in pushing him aside. “Get off of me—”

  The butt of a spear clubbed Kest across the cheek. He bared his teeth but quieted.

  Mandhi straightened slowly, biting her lip at the pain in her back. “Sirs, these men belong to the Uluriya. You know that we’re peaceable—”

  “Uluriya and Kaleksha?” The soldier snorted. “First I’ve ever heard of anything like that.”

  “Yes, they recently arrived—”

  “Eh,” one of the soldiers in the back broke in. “I heard about that. That boat that came by.”

  “Yes,” Mandhi said plaintively. “Now if you’ll let us return, we won’t bother you again.”

  Kest stood sullenly and gave both the dark-haired man and the local captain a stern glare. The captain shook his head. He pointed to Kest and to the other Kaleksha.

  “Bring both of them. I want them both flogged and strung up on the post for a day. Teach you not to fight in the public streets.”

  “Flogged!” Mandhi said in alarm. “Please, this is my husband. He was trying to protect me.” She felt a flare of protectiveness. Kest had been doing the right and honorable thing, and she wasn’t about to let him get flogged for her sake.

&nb
sp; The soldier gave her a sharp glare. “Did you start this?”

  “I didn’t start anything, sir, I just—”

  “Stay out of this, or I’ll have you flogged as well,” the captain said, pointing a finger of warning at her.

  “We were innocent,” Mandhi said angrily. “We came here to—”

  The soldier slapped her across the cheek. She cried out in pain. Kest bellowed and struggled with the soldier holding him. The captain grabbed Mandhi by the wrist and pulled her forward. “All three of them, stripped and flogged.”

  “But—” Mandhi said, her mind churning for excuses.

  The soldier slapped her a second time. “Open your mouth again, woman, and I’ll leave you tied for two days instead of one.”

  She shut her mouth. The horror in her gut was worse than the pain in her back. They would strip her and Kest naked, tie them to a post in the public square, flog them, and leave them up for public mockery for a whole day. She’d seen it done to others, but never to an Uluriya. She could barely stand the shame of thinking of it. And the rest of the Uluriya—they were already at the point of breaking over the Kaleksha.

  “No,” she said. “I appeal to Sadja-daridarya.”

  The soldier laughed. “The Emperor?”

  “He knows me. He’ll listen to me. He’ll listen to me.”

  The soldier let go of Mandhi’s wrist and stared directly at her. His expression mixed confusion and amazement. “Do you actually intend to appeal to the Emperor over a mere flogging?”

  “Yes,” Mandhi said. “I would speak to Sadja-daridarya. I’ve already stayed in his palace twice.”

  The man snorted. “Very well. If your flogging turns into a beheading, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He pointed to the dark-haired Kaleksha man. “Are you going to appeal to the Emperor?”

  The man bared his teeth. “I’ll take my licks.”

  “You two take him,” the captain said to two of the soldiers following him. “The rest of you follow us to the palace.”

  They began walking up the steps of the thoroughfare. Sadja’s palace gleamed at the top of the city, as white and distant as a cloud.

  Nakhur touched her elbow. “Beheading?” he whispered.

  “Sadja-daridarya isn’t going to behead anyone,” Mandhi said. “Don’t worry.”

  Kest fell into step beside her. He touched the corner of his mouth and brought his fingers away wet with blood. Beyond him, Glanod walked with his fists clenched into angry balls.

  “Thank you for trying to protect me,” Mandhi said softly to Kest.

  A tiny spark of satisfaction showed through Kest’s grim expression. Mandhi felt a flush of warmth at his glance. “You’re my wife,” he said, looking at her with something like affection. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  No, she thought. But she wasn’t about to give them up for flogging. And she was here, still stuck in Davrakhanda two months after they first arrived in Amur, with no money and a group of Kaleksha that she couldn’t civilize. If Sadja could help her, then she was willing to work with him.

  “You’re blameless,” Mandhi said. “And Sadja-daridarya knows me.”

  “We stole his boat,” Nakhur pointed out.

  “But we gave it back.”

  Nakhur sighed heavily. “I should let the others know what’s happening.” He raised his voice and addressed the captain. “May I leave and bring news to the other Uluriya? Some of them may want to come with us to the palace.”

  The soldier merely glanced at him. “You weren’t fighting. Go if you want.”

  He nodded to Mandhi, Kest, and Glanod. “You three go ahead. I’ll tell Kidri.”

  “See you at the palace,” Mandhi said.

  SADJA

  Sadja’s steps sped through the halls of the palace toward the courtyard. Bhargasa followed him, and servants scattered and bowed as he approached. He kept a stormy, capricious expression fixed on his face, but inwardly he cackled.

  Mandhi was back in the palace.

  His intentions toward her had been honest when she landed, and her intransigence frustrated him. She was his strongest link to Virnas, his surest way of keeping tabs on the southern half of the Empire he still ruled at least in name. He wanted her near him, and he hadn’t heard a single word from her since they’d met at the docks.

  The brilliant sunlight and cool breeze washed over him as he exited the palace into the courtyard. He blinked against the light. A moment later his eyes adjusted, and there she was.

  She stood between two Kaleksha men—the messengers had told him something about Kaleksha, but he ignored the reports until he could talk to her directly—with her arms folded and frustration written on her face. One of the Kaleksha men had a trickle of dried blood on his chin, and the other bore fresh bruises. About what he expected from a pair of Kaleksha arrested by his guard, minus the Uluriya woman between them.

  He descended the stairs toward them. The herald announced, “Sadja-daridarya, the Emperor of all Amur, blessed of Lord Am and Lady Ashti, approaches. Make obeisance with fear and trembling.”

  The soldiers all bowed at the waist, while Mandhi and the Kaleksha dropped to their knees and bowed their faces to the ground. Mandhi’s movements were stiff—she had suffered some kind of injury with the Kaleksha. When she straightened she looked him in the eye. Bold.

  Sadja smiled at her. “Mandhi. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “Sadja-daridarya,” she said. “I didn’t expect to call on you. It seems we still have the capability to surprise each other.”

  “That we do,” Sadja said. He pointed to the two Kaleksha standing beside her. “Who are these two?”

  She pointed to the bruised man. “This is Glanod os Dramab, one of the men with whom I sailed into Davrakhanda. And this is Kest os Dramab. My husband.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment. “Husband?” he said after a slow, heavy pause. “I remember your first husband Taleg. But this one?”

  “Taleg was my brother,” the man said.

  Sadja studied him for a moment. There was a strong resemblance to Taleg. They were both Kaleksha, of course, a head taller than any Amuran, with heavily muscled arms and thighs, chest like the hull of a dhow, and pale pinkish skin. But they had the same red hair, rounded chin, and small, bright eyes.

  “I recall from the reports of the late Ashturma-kha, my regent,” he said, “that you had met your husband’s brother. Do you care to explain how you came to marry him?”

  “Perhaps another time,” Mandhi said. Sadja’s curiosity lit up like a fire. “I first need to ensure the safety of my husband and his kinsmen.”

  “Ah,” Sadja said. “An imperial pardon.”

  “It’s such a trivial matter, I assume that you’ll grant it easily.”

  “Perhaps,” Sadja said. “Tell me what happened.”

  Mandhi’s husband responded. “A man in the Kaleksha district claimed falsely that we owed him money. We left the district without paying, but he followed us into the street, where he injured my wife with a stone. I got into a fight with him. Then your men stopped us.”

  “Mandhi? Is that true?”

  “My husband speaks for himself,” Mandhi said, a false look of submission on her face.

  Sadja glanced aside at the soldiers. “Is this what you saw as well?”

  “I don’t know anything about their debt,” the captain said. “All I know is that they were fighting in the street and I broke it up. I wanted to flog the ones who were brawling, but the woman interfered and demanded to speak to the Emperor.”

  “An appeal to the Emperor over a simple flogging,” Sadja said. There must be more at play here. He couldn’t imagine that Mandhi would throw herself on his mercy just to spare her husband a single day’s humiliation. He pointed to the two Kaleksha.

  “Keep the men under guard,” he said to the soldiers. “Mandhi, you come with me.”

  “My Emperor,” Mandhi said with another minced bow, “I fear it would be inappropriate for m
e to accompany you without my husband present.”

  Her expression was so innocent, he could almost believe she was serious. “Never fear,” he said with an indulgent smile, “we’ll have a chaperone with us. Now follow.”

  Mandhi glanced aside at Kest, who nodded. She lifted the hem of her sari and ascended the stairs toward Sadja. The soldiers drew close around Kest and Glanod.

  Sadja re-entered the palace with Mandhi a step behind him. He led her to one of the lower balconies that looked across the barracks to the north of the palace, where the guards withdrew except for Bhargasa.

  “So,” Sadja said, turning to Mandhi once the soldiers had gone. “You’re back in my palace after all.”

  “I just came for your pardon, Sadja-daridarya,” she said coolly.

  “You’re assuming that I allow you to leave.”

  A look of calculated surprise. “I would prefer to be outside the palace, my lord and king. But of course, I escaped it once before.”

  Sadja smiled at her. “Fortunately I have no intention of keeping you prisoner. If I did, I would be worried.” He leaned against the balcony railing and folded his hands across his stomach. “So what is this about, really?”

  “I want Kest to be pardoned.”

  “Mandhi, you know that an imperial pardon is not free, and I don’t think you would have come here just to get your husband off of the flogging post.”

  “Not free?” Mandhi said in feigned surprise. “But you were so eager to get me into the palace when we first met.”

  “You are the sister of Navran-dar—”

  “And mother of the Heir,” she added. “Jhumitu, by the way, is fine, and currently in the care of his Kaleksha grandmother.”

  “That resolved itself well.”

  “No thanks to the actions of your regent.”

  “He was dealt with,” Sadja said sharply.

  Mandhi gave him a brief glance of surprise. “Well, at least you took your responsibilities seriously there.”