Draw Breath #2
He was feeling much better now that he was lying still. The earlier feeling of panic was gone. But perhaps his brains were a bit scrambled, because he had thought Umtúshta was Vanu Urártu’s stronghold, not whatever name the man had just given.
“Eh? What’s a Riru?”
“My name. Lill.”
Some of the men and boys in the Order had been from the Eastern Peaks—they took in foundlings, and there had been a lot of orphans made during the Great King’s decade-long campaign—and they’d all had difficulty pronouncing Lill’s name too.
Something to do with the letter “l” and the fact that it didn’t end with a vowel.
Deru and Rami, from whom Lill had learned what he knew of the language, had explained it once.
“Ree-ulgh,” the man attempted again, and looked pleased with himself. Lill smiled weakly.
“Lill,” said the woman. She pointed a finger at herself. “Gurti. And he is Tirtu Shuma.” She pointed at the man.
Lill smiled more widely and nodded. He would keep up the pretence of not understanding their language. It might prove useful.
“Ask him if he knows what he’s doing here,” the woman prompted.
“I know what he’s doing here,” the man replied, in the language they thought Lill didn’t understand.
“You do? How’s that?”
“I’m the one who sent for him. I got a message to Lord Davanu in Torakand. It was meant as a surprise, which your useless son nearly ruined by shooting at him.”
“But why under the Blue Heaven, Tirtu—what did you want him for?”
Tirtu gave her a smug look. “You will find out in good time, Gurti. Just see to it that you keep Khatu away from him, will you?”
Lill lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes.
He knew why he was here: to become Vanu Urártu’s boy bride and, in due course, widow.
He remembered the name of the man who had brought him up the mountain: Halza.
He even understood now why Tirtu had said this was Khashu Gukhártu’s stronghold.
Khashu Gukhártu was one of Vanu’s allies or vassals or however they termed it here, and it was in his half-ruined fortress—after Khashu himself had been killed—that Urártu had been walled up.
The Lion’s own citadel in the Summer Pass had not yet been taken.
“How are you feeling?”
Lill’s eyes snapped open. He and Halza were alone in the room now.
“You shouldn’t have got up,” Halza went on after a moment, when Lill did not answer. “I thought you shouldn’t have got up. You need to rest.”
Lill gritted his teeth. He should not have shown so much weakness. He should be ashamed—was ashamed—to show so much weakness. But to protest now that he was well, when he wasn’t, would only show more weakness. He said nothing.
“I don’t suppose you speak the Hawa tongue, do you?
” Halza asked fretfully. “I don’t understand a single word they’re saying—but at least that man Tirtu speaks some Zashian.
He hasn’t said a word to me, though. I suppose they’re angry with me for following you over the wall.
I must tell you, I did it because I thought you needed protection, not because—I mean, I hope they don’t think I’m your, your suitor or some such thing.
” His face crinkled with embarrassment. “I assure you, I have a betrothed of my own back in Radush. A girl.”
“I’m sure they don’t think you’re my suitor.” Lill tried to adopt a soothing tone, since Halza seemed worried about this.
Of course he wasn’t sure of that at all. He wondered whether the idea should have occurred to him. It hadn’t, but he was glad to have it dispelled now that it had been raised. It would have been difficult to know how to negotiate such a situation with honour.
He considered what useful information he might gain from Halza. The man knew little of their surroundings, apparently. Still, he must know more than Lill, and he did not have the disadvantage of having hit his head and lost half a day or more to grogginess and confusion.
“Did you grow up in Radush?” Lill asked, thinking that was a question that would sound innocent but might lead somewhere.
“No, it’s my mother’s home village. She moved to Bezavand on the coast when she married my father, and that’s where I was raised.
She came back here after he died when I was eighteen.
I was studying to enter temple service there.
I came to stay with her before writing my exams the, er, second time, and she arranged a match for me with the daughter of one of her neighbours, so …
I thought I might stay in Radush, if my wife likes the idea.
I can get a post at the local temple—they don’t care about the exams from Bezavand there, or so I’ve heard.
I was going to talk to the high priest after I got back from escorting you up the mountain.
” He sighed. “I’d have been back by now, if it hadn’t been for all this. ”
“I am sorry,” said Lill. It seemed the necessary thing to say.
“It’s not your fault, of course. I didn’t mean that.”
“I understand.”
“I’d never brought anyone all the way up to Umtúshta before, you know.
I’ve taken travellers to some of the villages lower down, many times—it pays well, if you’ve got a sword and a bit of skill.
Which I flatter myself I do. And these days the pass is surprisingly safe, so long as you don’t actually want to go through it.
I came up to Umtúshta once just to look at the place.
People from the villages sometimes do.” He shivered.
“Never thought I would see the inside of it.”
Lill made what he hoped would be a comforting sound.
He could not summon much enthusiasm for the task.
His mind was circling desperately around the horrible revelation his companion had just made, so casually: I was going to enter temple service …
a post at the local temple … talk to the high priest. He was a man of religion, or aspired to be—had been studying for it.
What if he found out, what if he could sense somehow, what Lill was and had been?