The Past The Offer #3
“I do mean to,” Bashasa assured him. “We cannot afford to fight on two fronts at once, not now. I need to meet with her people. They must agree to leave us alone or they must join us, there is no other choice.”
“Join us?” Kai was startled by how visceral his reaction was. “You think that’s remotely possible? After what she said?”
“I agree, there is something odd there.” Bashasa tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Ziede seemed honestly disturbed by the dustwitch’s story. “I’ve never heard any hint that there were northern Witches that behaved this way. She didn’t even believe her leader would agree to a meeting to get her back.”
Kai had noticed that too. It made a vivid contrast to Kreat, running into the dark after Amabel. Even if in her panic she had doubted them later, her first impulse had been to come to Kai and Ziede because as Witches she knew they would help her.
“Interesting.” Bashasa frowned. “Hawkmoth reminds me of the young people from the far south, across the Belith straits, who would come to the Hostage Courts. They had been taken from their families as children and were being raised as high servants for the Hierarchs. They were very sure in their convictions that everything the Hierarchs said and did was moral and righteous to an extreme. Trying to talk to them was like talking to a myna bird, except a myna bird listens to you and has more ability to retain information.” He shook his head, dismissing the thought.
“This Doyen seems to have imposed their own way of thinking on Hawkmoth’s people, but we can’t know that for certain until we speak to them. ”
“It sounds pretty certain to me,” Kai disagreed. If Hawkmoth had come up with it all herself, she would at least be able to argue her vile points more effectively. “The Doyen could be a Hierarchs’ Servant, an expositor, pretending to be a Witch.”
Bashasa’s glance at Kai was sympathetic. “Or just a Witch who desired power over others.”
Kai looked away, setting his jaw to hold back his first knee-jerk response. Because he didn’t want to believe it was possible didn’t make it an unlikely answer.
“If they want to sit in the windy plains and complain to each other about what’s left of the rest of us, that’s one thing.
” Ziede flexed her fingers on her folded arms. The candlelight outlined the hard cast to her expression.
“But directing children like that to attack and kill mortals and other Witches is … a vicious distortion of what we are.”
Ziede said it much better than Kai had. He said to Bashasa, “And you think this Doyen, the person who would do this, is worth meeting with?”
Bashasa said patiently, “Perhaps not, but the others may be a different story. Hawkmoth is a young person, naive and obviously under the influence of stronger wills. These dustwitches … their way of life seems divisive, and I must think relatively new to them, if even Hawkmoth knows of the Saredi and the treaty and the way things were before the Hierarchs.” He shrugged.
“People, all people—mortals, immortals, for the most part—like their lives to be secure and calm, they do not like the constant tension of fear and uncertainty and death coming at any moment. If they are made to understand that a better life is possible, they can be reasoned with, they will cooperate to get it.”
Ziede regarded Bashasa with a flat stare.
Kai pressed his hands to his face, trying to control his immediate impulses.
Yelling would do no good, stamping away would do no good.
Killing Hawkmoth would do no good, and now that he saw she was about as sensible as a confused goat, it wouldn’t even feel good.
Ziede said pointedly, “You think these people can be reasoned with.”
“Most people can be reasoned with, when they understand that there is nothing to fear from reason and cooperation.” Bashasa was completely serious and completely undeterred. “Particularly if you remove anyone who causes divisiveness for their own benefit from the conversation, if necessary.”
Kai looked up. “Like cutting the heads off Hierarchs.” He was still skeptical, but this was starting to sound more practical.
“Exactly, Fourth Prince.” Bashasa looked pleased. He squeezed Kai’s shoulder approvingly.
That was a little better. Kai nodded. “You want us to kill the Doyen.”
“No, Kai, no,” Bashasa said hastily. “We will not consider that until we have taken their measure, and heard what they mean to do. If they are willing to treat with us fairly, it will be the easier course.”
That was disappointing. “It won’t,” Kai muttered. He would rather just track the Doyen down and kill them, as a lesson to the others, but that was apparently not an option. Yet.
“So I take it you do mean to send Hawkmoth back alive, even if they don’t agree to meet with us?” Ziede asked, not sounding pleased.
“Of course,” Bashasa told her. “She is just a young person who has been used. If violence becomes necessary to defend ourselves, we want the one who gave the orders, who controls her and the others.”
This seemed to be what they were doing, then. Kai folded his arms. “I hope we don’t regret this.”
“Oh, we probably will,” Bashasa admitted readily. The fact that he was realistic about their chances somehow made it worse. “But we would regret it more if we did not try.”
“‘We’?” Kai exchanged a pointed look with Ziede.
“Fine.” Bashasa shrugged. “I would regret it more.”
In the borderlands there was an old tradition of sending messages using braided knots and twigs.
Ziede made one to convey Bashasa’s offer of a meeting, and added a sheet of paper with the message written out in both Imperial and Arike, to be safe.
Bashasa was hoping the different versions, the first traditional for the borderlands and the second common for the Arike, would convey their united purpose.
Kai wasn’t so sure. But at dawn he and Ziede and his cadre took Hawkmoth to the edge of camp, to the east of the paddock wall where the attack had taken place.
Kai held out the message bundle to her. “That’s for your leader. Now go away.”
Her glare at him was wary. She hesitated, eyeing the message bundle suspiciously. Ziede said, “We told you we were releasing you, and now here we are. Get on with you, we don’t have all day.”
Hawkmoth’s glare turned into an uncertain frown, then she finally took the bundle. Lifting her chin defiantly, she walked out into the field.
At first, from the tension in her shoulders, she clearly expected a crossbow bolt in the back. And her deliberate pace was probably an attempt not to be seen as a coward. Kai sighed and folded his arms.
“Why is she so slow,” Nirana muttered behind him.
“We fed her.” Last night they had given her some of the lentil dhal leftover from dinner, which Ibel had doctored with a small amount of a sleeping draft, so she would sleep the rest of the night and the soldiers wouldn’t have to worry so much about her trying to murder them.
Salatel hushed Nirana, but it was more by rote. Everyone was weary after the long night.
Finally Hawkmoth started to run, and Ziede set a wind-devil to watch her until she was out of range.
The morning light was still dim and gray when Kai and the others returned to their camp, where Bashasa’s cadre was making ready to eat their morning meal.
Kai sent his cadre off duty, and they all headed into their tents to sleep.
Tahren’s tent was empty, and Trenal said she was on patrol and Dahin had gone off somewhere earlier.
Ziede seemed to want to putter around, either waiting to see if Tahren would appear or just too anxious to settle down immediately, but Kai convinced her to go rest too.
Which was a bit ironic, because Kai was too anxious to even attempt to sleep.
He was still sitting at the firepit when Mother Hiraga came into Bashasa’s camp, leaning on the arm of Isa, one of their grandchildren.
They were a short but upright figure, stocky under a dun-colored coat that was too big for them and the concealing drape of their veils.
Isa hadn’t bothered with a veil. She was younger than Kreat and stocky like Mother Hiraga, though taller.
Kai stood, brushing grass off his skirt. He felt guilty, not having meant to disturb them so early. “Mother Hiraga, you should have sent word, I would have come to you.” A soldier hurriedly put down a blanket next to the banked coals in the small firepit and Kai went to offer his arm.
Hiraga gripped his forearm tightly as he and Isa helped them sit down.
Kai took a seat next to them as Arava brought warm cups of basil tisane.
The supply train had found the wild remnants of the caravanserai’s gardens so even the pot of millet porridge sitting in the coals smelled appetizing.
Hiraga said, “Fourth Prince, I am not so old as to forego my obligations.” They were speaking in Saredi.
Most of Hiraga’s family knew some of the language, but Hiraga spoke it almost like a native.
They folded their veil back just enough to reveal the deep wrinkles around their mouth.
They tasted the drink, and gave Arava a nod of thanks.
Arava handed a cup to Kai and asked in Imperial, “Should we leave, Fourth Prince?”
Kai wrapped his hands around the warmth of the metal. “No, go ahead and eat, all of you.” He switched back to Saredi to ask Mother Hiraga, “Is Amabel all right?” The word had come earlier that the other surviving vanguarders were recovering well.
“They woke this morning and were able to eat and speak. They will be well,” Hiraga answered.
“They told us what happened. On their patrol they found a dustwitch killing one of the vanguarders and tried to stop her. They thought she had mistaken the vanguarder for a legionary and tried to explain. Others attacked them without warning.”