forty-four #2
I think it was because she also knew that you did not love him in that way.”
“I’d think that the lordling of Gardiah Estate is much more… tactful… than who you see here on Cerilyn.”
“And you were much more demure and a little hesitant. The Sulim sitting before me would strike me if I offended her enough.”
“Are you trying to offend?” Sulim lowered her arms to the table. “Do you want to goad me into ‘striking’ you?”
“Not at all. I just find these things fascinating. Because you’re right. He’s much more… broken… in this reality. He hasn’t told me anything about the people I met in the other world, but I know they all met awful ends. Long before Lady Graella had the chance to find her own love on Qahrain.
Or even grow up, for that matter. It’s hard for me to fathom. I have memories of his family. But I’ve never met them in this reality.”
She chuckled, quickly covering her mouth before she showed her teeth.
“When I first saw him come into the Temple here, I nearly fainted! All of that came back to me so suddenly! But he looked… forgive me. He is quite fit here.”
Sulim tried not to groan. “Let me guess. Bit of a lordling in the other reality?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. He was healthy and perfectly fit enough to work on the family ranch. But, uh, this other job requires a much higher level of fitness, doesn’t it? Even you are much more muscular than the other you.”
“We also only get fed what is necessary for our nutrition. Lots of protein and produce, not a lot of carbohydrates.”
“Wouldn’t staying as fit as you do require more carbohydrates?”
“You’d think. Good girls and boys get pasta and rice when times are also good.”
“Doesn’t leave a lot of room for body fat around here.”
“Are you complaining? I’m assuming even julah—culturally speaking, of course—are enamored with fitness.”
“Julah men tend to be lean, yes, but not muscular. You have seen Master Marlow and the former High Priest.” Even she did not dare call Nerilis Dunsman by name. “They are both considered quite attractive and masculine on Yahzen, but it’s never really appealed to me.”
“Right. You like ‘em, uh, human.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Sulim spared herself any further inquiry.
“Perhaps he’s right, then. You should go with him to Spear City tomorrow. It’s not about talent as a julah—it’s about having the right constitution. Spear City makes this place look like a quaint hamlet with law-abiding citizens who don’t get too crazy. If you can handle that,
then you should go with him.”
“Quite frankly, I think Hannu would handle that even less. She’s from House Adelah. They’re used to a more charmed life, let alone an attachment to the Temple.”
“Mira tells me they’re distant cousins through her grandmother.”
“Yes. Lady Lerenan is a natal daughter of House Adelah. I believe Hannu is the second daughter of Master Adelah’s first cousin.”
That’s already too difficult for me to parse. Sulim wasn’t being paid to twist her brain to match julah family trees, so she wouldn’t try. “And you?”
Kema grinned, but it was because Sonall had returned from the privy—and he had Sulim’s favorite drink in his hand, which he deposited before her without acknowledgement.
“Oh, I’m just the daughter of a Lerenan dancer and a Cachayan courtesan…”
Sulim waited until Sonall had made himself comfortable next to Kema before accepting the drink. “Has he told you how much he loves courtesans? You’re right in his wheelhouse.”
“Be nice,” Sonall lightly chastised as Kema was stunned silent. “She’s prettier than any of the courtesans around here.”
“And more ladylike, of course.”
“Hey, let’s talk about your sex life, Sul.” Sonall pushed forward, taking over half the table using nothing but his arms and torso. “Starting with me.”
Sulim stared him down before directing her ire toward Kema, who looked like she finally wanted to crawl under the table and pretend that none of this was happening.
“You can have him,” Sulim mouthed before sitting back, crossing her legs, and knocking back half of her drink.
She wasn’t as tipsy as either of them, and that had to change—before she died of embarrassment.
She only had a mild hangover when she and Hannu departed early the next morning.
But I still have to drive. Sulim took two pills from the infirmary before donning her sunglasses and commandeering an all-terrain vehicle from the fortress’s garage.
Hannu was already waiting for her, ever up bright-and-early to meditate in the inner sanctum and to eat a light breakfast.
Sulim skipped eating entirely and jingled the keys in her hand.
Since Hannu was not talented enough to teleport places she had never seen before, she had to ride shotgun as Sulim slammed on the accelerator, barreling them out of the garage and straight onto the narrow road that cut through the jungle.
Honestly, calling it a road is generous.
The vehicle careened over broken foliage and other organic detritus as simians screamed in the trees and birds took off in fright.
Hannu didn’t have a chance to take in the sights since, speaking from experience, Sulim knew it was best to go at top speed on the straightest stretches of road and pray that nobody was coming in the other direction.
Both of them were strapped in as the large tires ate the jungle for breakfast, the occasional fallen log chopped up by the spikes on the front of the vehicle, but Hannu held on for dear life for the first hour of the journey.
The motor was so loud that there was no point attempting conversation.
Sometimes, people rigged those vehicles to play music at obnoxious decibels, but Sulim preferred the roar of the vehicle and the screams of the jungle as she plowed toward Bow Village.
She had no idea when this road was last used. When the Third Tribe emissaries came to witness the transfer of power a few days ago?
“Eat shit,” she said as they slumped over a fresh log at top speed, Hannu letting out a frightened sound that matched the cries of a bird overhead.
Sulim had just enough time to notice that the jungle tree had been cut, not felled naturally by animal, disease, or weather.
“Fucking Thirders.” She didn’t doubt that her contacts had stopped along the way back to Bow Village to make the road less desirable for the likes of Sulim to get anywhere quickly.
For while these haphazard roads through the jungle were for the public benefit of all mercenaries, Third Tribe did not like unexpected visitors.
Just her luck, that was where Sulim headed, while Sonall and Kema enjoyed a smoother ride along the cavernous ravine toward Spear City, bypassing much of the jungle and even segueing across desert dunes in parts.
That’s the fastest way to get there, and he’s definitely having fun.
Meanwhile, Sulim tried not to bite her tongue off as they lurched over another crop of skinny logs and Hannu kept her eyes closed for another hour.
The only break in the road was in the final twenty minutes, when the vehicle met an open clearing comprised of cryptic signs in multiple languages warning lost travelers to prepare to present themselves for inspection—that went for prospective clients, as well.
For while many clients purchasing tribal services flew in via space cruiser…
well! This was where they had to land and complete the rest of the journey by vehicle or foot, wasn’t it?
Sulim knew that there were eyes in the trees.
If not cameras, then actual people on patrol.
She thought about cheekily waving at them, but decided she didn’t want the kiss of a dart to her cheek.
Even if they recognized her, Third Tribe had a reputation to uphold.
Besides! Would be rude to do that to Hannu!
So she slowed down before reaching the main checkpoint before Bow Village. The man in black and with a firearm strapped to his chest flagged her down. He did not smile, even though she recognized him as a fellow recruit before he was traded to Third Tribe in a body swap.
While Hannu smartly kept her mouth shut and rubbed her fingers together in case she had to throw up a ward, Sulim announced who they were and that she had business with two of the local chief’s top mercenaries. “They know I’m coming,” she finished.
“Wait here.” The guard stepped back, radio in his hand as he contacted one of the women directly. Sulim heard the garbled speech coming from the other side, which was enough for the guard, who waved them through with a warning to mind the speed limit and to stick to the town.
“This is something else…” Those were the first words Hannu uttered since they left Second Tribe land. “My word.”
“Third Tribe doing what they do best,” Sulim said as she pulled into a lot big enough to park in on the edge of town.
While she had selected a vehicle not emblazoned with Second Tribe insignia, there was no denying it was from another Cerilynian mercenary not affiliated with “the locals.”
The only windows were on the front and back.
Although Sulim had driven with the top up to protect their heads from falling foliage and bird droppings, she now lowered it, because what was the point in having it up?
Better to have it stripped easily and still be salvageable than to make a proper mess of things.
Hannu stumbled into the lot once she freed herself from the safety belts and released whatever tension she had been securing in her muscles for the past three hours.
While she queasily looked like she was about to throw up, Sulim directed her toward the one main street in the village and gave her an encouraging pat to the shoulder.
“You survived a trek through the jungle,” she said to Hannu. “Something to tell the folks back on Yahzen.”
“I don’t…” Hannu tripped over her feet. “I don’t like how you drive.”
“If you drive through there any slower, you will get stuck.”
“I still don’t like how you drive.”
She continued in Julah, which was Sulim’s cue to leave poor Hannu alone and lead her to the rendezvous point.
It’s bad enough she has to dress like that, I guess.
Hannu would be too conspicuous in her Temple whites, so Mira and Sulim had the foresight to put her in a pair of borrowed mercenary blacks.