111 - Almighty Mothers Five

The guards opened the doors to the Imperial bedroom for Minis, letting out sudden chaos. Doof was shrieking at the top her lungs. Bella was still with the Zak so she wasn’t barking or getting underfoot.  Gannara shouted “Guards! Get the healers! Get the midwives! Run! Run!” he saw Minis there and relief flooded his face. “Minis! Get Ky, she’s cramping too!”

Gannara had Farasha in his arms, stood in the doorway, Farasha saying “just get me…oh… to the Temple.”

“Oh Ten, we shouldn’t have… we just shouldn’t have slept anywhere but there!” Minis cried as he threw a lightning hug at his loves and ran past toward the bed.

“Over here, husband!” Ky called from the chaise where she lay.  “Thank the Gods you came. We just started cramping, both of us.  Farasha’s not bleeding.”

“It’s too early, it’s too early!” Minis scooped her up in his arms and nearly tripped over the dropped book on the floor.  Stopped.  Took a deep breath and carefully, quickly, walked toward the doors, after Gannara.  Servants were suddenly everywhere, and Minis shook his head at the carry-chairs being brought.  “We’ve got them. Send… Akminchaer! We’re going to the Temple. The women are suddenly cramping.” He knew what Ky hadn’t said.  “Ky is bleeding, I think.”

He felt her nod against his neck.  His guts clenched and his teeth. “I love you, Kyriala Liren Aan,” he said.  “You aren’t going to lose this baby. You’ll be fine. You’ll both be fine!”

“I love you.  Oh…” she held her breath and he felt her tense in his arms and he trotted carefully down the stairs, almost catching up to Gannara as they both ran down the spiral and into the Great Hall.

“It is an emergency, if the raised platform isn’t there, I’m setting my feet on the GROUND,” Minis roared at the door-keepers scrambling to swing the double doors wide.  He could hear Akminchaer behind, and a dozen other people.

“Ten… oh Ten… Anae and Mella stop the bleeding, Risae fix the problem, Dimae leash the Summoner, Selinae help us…” Ky panted and then held her breath once more.

“Munnas hold Your hand over us, Mikas aid Your Selestial wife…”

Their feet pounded on the walkway and the few people out late wheeled around at the noise and the light, some crying out in surprise.  Minis and Gannara had out-distanced their guards except for four of their new Mahid, who had paced them all the way.

The boom of their feet shifted to crack of boots on stone. Ky was weeping he could feel her tears on his neck.  “Gods save my wives and children!” He cried out as they ran into the sanctuary and he felt the world tilt away from him.

He slid to his knees before Risae, clutching Ky to his chest.  Gannara and Farasha had made it there first. Gannara had tears streaming down his face and Minis thought his heart would break. “Mother of Surgeons, this is too soon for them to be born!” he panted. “Please… help.”

110 - "My First Impulse"

Minis stepped out of the way as Matthas scooped Megan right off her feet and carried her down the steps, followed by diligent Atzathratzas.  She didn't protest, which was enough of a sign that she'd over extended herself.

As he closed the door to the Imperial Chapel rooms behind himself, he heard the other Matthas's voice at his elbow.  "Minis, is she gone?"

"You don't need to hide in the tapestries, Bennas. She's probably asleep in the Taken-up's care. I never thought I'd see that -- a broken Mahid caring for someone else."

"So... I was listening down here," Matthas said.  "The broken Mahid let me -- They just implicated themselves in nearly every disaster we've currently got?"

"You heard correctly." Minis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “My first impulse is to arrest them and their whole household and truth-drug the lot of them.”

“An admirable sentiment, Imperator.”

One pale eyebrow went up inquisitively.  “But one that is impulsive?” The question was clear.

“You’ve set people on the various problems.  You have someone who can apparently listen in on the Ambassador at will. And it seems clear that they are not working perfectly together. Time is on our side, not theirs.”

“So.” Minis yawned.  “You may read those.  I’ll speak to you tomorrow before my breakfast with the Ungilian emissary.”

Matthas tucked the pages into his folder and smiled at the younger man.  “It’s wonderful when your opponent underestimates you, isn’t it?” He fell into step with Minis.

“Hmm. They didn’t know that the Temple is helping us, outside the building now. Or that we have someone who understands any Fehinnan at all.”

“They tend to be pretty arrogant about anyone who isn’t under their own personal God,” Matthas said.

“So… did you underestimate Vitlak?” Minis’s nod indicated Matthas’s scarred cheek.

“Badly.  Her AND her brawny wife. I had one of the old Mahid looming over my neck, and—“ he shrugged.  “—there was always the hope that your esteemed Sire would elevate someone for something big enough.”

“But Ch’venga hired you, after.”

“He did.  He said he needed every Arkan who gave a fik – pardon my tongue—“

“No offense taken.  I’ll see you in the morning, Matthas.”

“Goodnight, Imperator.”

“Minis, please.”

“Minis.”

109 - Innocent As The Wide Blue Sea

Atzathratzas’s hand flew across the page as Megan spoke. As a Temple scribe transcribing almost any kind of vocalization from the ‘taken-up’ he had little trouble deciphering the slow, drawling Arkan that was the Zak’s translation.

“…Whall, Rey… They ain’t as stupid nor decadent as they want us to be thinkin’.  But they’all din’t push too certain hard fer to get some’un inta the house to spah on us.”

“Psh, Bil.” The ambassador’s dismissal was obvious.  “Ain’t no-one, no-how who kin speak our speakifyin’.  Even Illizbuah don’ get it when we talkin’.”

“Yeah.  That pregnant lady… the one that don’ look washed out, soaked in bleach n’ laid out to pale in t’ sun’s pretty.”

“Keep it in yer loincloth, Bil. She’s one of the IM-perial fambly… Imperial boy and his wife, Yeol boy n’ his pretty wife, keep yer dick offn her… D’j check out t’ Temple?”

“Yep. Nice carvin’s, lotsa gold n’ more metal n’ you can shake a stick at.  They’re hidin’ the mechanisms that make all the magic pretty good, though.  I looked.  Couldn’t see any seams in the floor ‘tall.”

“Hmm.  Maybe we can ‘range for some ‘miracles’ to convert some of these hanka savages?”

“What’s left in the box?  Don’ Beeoofor and Jeb hev all of the good stuff?”

“Wahl… I din’t give it all away.  They’re supposed to listen and coordinate w’ me, but Bee… he’s still full of himself w’ who his fambly is and how close priests they are to Himself.”

“So, he’s fightin’ y’all?”

“Nah.  Just bein’ a right stupid ahrshole, an’ pushin’ the time.  God-King’s got all’u time in the world.  He could jes’ wait for it all to outgrow this ten worship n’ fall apart.  It nearly did w’ t’ war.  If we’d a got that Yeol boy it’d all be in pieces now an’ we’d be roundin’ up slaves an loot from t’ ashes o’ every city on the Med.  T’ God-King calls that Midwurld ocean ‘t Med.” He was clearly proud of having been close enough to the God-King or his priests to have picked up that wording.

Atzathratzas bit his lip and his hand stayed steady, quick and clear, even as Minis made a slight choking sound but didn’t move.  The metronome hum, ticking now between bass and tenor, from Matthas, didn’t falter or slow down in the slightest.

“Ah could get use to all this food and entertainifyin’.”

“So could I Bil.  We’ll let Beeoofor and Jeb get they asses handed to ‘em.  None ‘o our fault if they ran out ‘o the ‘Believe Me Believe Me’ too soon.  Them sky-scrapin' darkies south don’ have nuthin’ to get ‘round the desert so’s our baracoons ‘ll be fine, bringing in more slaves all the time.  An’ you and I we’ll be here in t’ middle of it all and getting’ fed fine wi’ no one ‘t wiser, innocent as little lambs.”

Laughter.  "Innocent as a sunny day..."

Megan coughed suddenly and Matthas’s voice cut off.  She sank forward and laid her hands flat on the stone in front of her, the hairs falling in a tumble onto the mirror.  She gasped as if it were hard to breathe.

“Break the line, Zak,” Matthas rumbled, standing at the edge of her semi-circle.  “You need to go back into the Temple with me.”

“I… Dah.  Carried away, I was. It... so good.”

“Thank you, Megan,” Minis said.  “You need to rest and eat, I’m certain.” He turned to the boy and held out his hand. “Thank you, Atzathratzas.  I’ll take your pages.”

**

In Brahvniki, in the darkened manor of the House of the Sleeping Dragon, Rilla's eyes popped open.  She reached up to check on the new baby, her hand colliding with Shkai'ra's who seemed to still be asleep, from her snores.

Aside from the untuneful snoring from Shyll on her other side, and Shkai'ra's grunt as she rolled over in the bed, all was quiet.  The baby snuffled to herself and Third Inu, the latest in Shyll's line of great hounds, farted. 

Something woke me. Something is going on.  Something odd.

Jessie has finished Page One!

Page One for RAHT

108 - What in Halya Happened?

Lixand Vitlakovich was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because he was dreaming of the manrauq.  His mother had always been supportive that he had none, being an Arkan half-breed Zak.  It had made life actually a bit easier between his brother and him, since Ardas would never have had manrauq at all.

Other Zak in F'talezon had made it clear that no matter how much money the family had, they weren't going to accept a half Zak, naZak, blond kid with an Arkan accent. It was why they were in Brahvniki now.

But he hadn't dreamed of having manrauq for years and thought he'd reconciled himself to merely being like the most of the human race. He'd ached to feel what mata described and what Zak children played with. He'd stared at piles of salt and feathers, willing them to move, even one grain of salt, even one down feather to quiver with something other than his breath. He'd mediated and stared into his mother's scrying mirrors, secretly, until his eyes ached, but had never seen so much as a quiver. Except when his eyes watered.

He'd quit trying. He'd quit hurting over it. He'd put it all aside as childish yearning. He'd quit dreaming of it. Until now.

I am in a sea... an ocean... the river flows through me from the crown of my head, down my arms, down my body to the crux of my legs, then down and out my fingers and toes dripping, then streaming, then pouring through me till you cannot see me any longer. What is this? I would weep for my naZak deafness, my naZak dumbness, my naZak blindness, but I burned those tears out years ago. What is this? It tingles. It makes me clear as glass, scrubbing at dark knots and scars and pain.

Silverwings, fangs drawn so they could not bite. Covering. Covering mata. Her eyes were closed and there was this gigantic, booming voice that she was listening to.  He was dreaming in Arkan. The voice was speaking Arkan. “That one’s code is limited, see?” Lightning bolts shot out of nowhere to touch inside every part of her body, lighting up something he couldn’t see.

His own body was twitching, outlined in silver. “What’s happening?” He asked in Arkan, though he hated speaking it while awake.

“Hmmm?” Another voice. “You are child of that one. Also blocked. But you are child of Arko. I can hear that one, even from here.”

“What are you talking about? Who are you? You’re not Oas. I’m not a humble slave boy anymore. I’m son of the house. I’m free.”

“Indeed that one is. And I can see you, child. A dancer. A fighter. An acrobat. Knife wielder like your mother. Strong man like your father. Your code from him has blocked hers, but now We see you.”

“She killed him.  He raped her.  I don’t care that I carry his shape or his code as you say, in me.”

“It gives Us access to you, the combination. Anywhere where there are Arkan temples. Here!”

Lixand tumbled over and over and over as if caught in a wave of light. Sunlight, shimmering lights of all colours against a night sky. “Here is magic that you can use!  Through both your parents!”

He could see his mother leaping straight up, leg pointed down as she reached toward the lights in the sky, ribbons of some kind of colour he had no name for trailing from her to him and to other mother and… no… he was wound in them, wrapped in them.

He thrust his arms wide and landed on his back with a crash -- “We will see you again.” Laughter as the wind was knocked out of him and he stared around, confused, panting, on the floor of his bedroom, tangled in his sheets and blankets.

He was in his bedroom. In his apartment in the family manor. In his Brahvnikian bed because he could never bear the enclosed box-bed common to most Zak. Or rather, on the floor, with only his feet still up on the mattress.

His brother’s apartments were just down the hall, his sister’s – mostly empty but kept for whenever she came home – around the corner the other way. The kids's rooms all down another floor across the atrium. “Mother what in Halya happened to you in Arko?” he said to himself, untwisting his nightshirt.

Miniature seagulls cried outside in the darkness. The faint 'tonk' from the night bells of the Abby of the Bear across the river. Humming songs of the ferrymen, the quiet, night songs. The rhythmic tinkling, banging, wooden xylophone sounds of the boats in harbour. Brahvniki sounded nothing like Arko.  He thrashed his way free of his sheets and ran a hand through his hair, clambered up onto his bare feet.  “I need some light,” he muttered to himself, reaching for the striker and the candle on the table next his bed.

He froze in shock, hand outstretched, turned his hand palm up, staring at the tiny silver lights dancing from his fingertips in the darkness.

107 - I Wish Our Lives Weren't So Complicated

Gannara settled crosslegged onto a cushion in the bedchamber sitting area. “Oof! I ate too much.  Where’s Min and how’s this plotting thing he’s doing going?”

Farasha lying on her side in the bed propped her head up on her hand, shoving a pillow under her armpit and under her belly, smiled at him. “He’s up in the chapel or thereabouts with the Zak woman and as far as I can tell they’re pretty happy with how their plotting and scheming is going.”

“Has the Fenjitza said anything from the midwives lately?” That was Kyriala, propped on a chaise with cushion in the small of her back.

“Yeha,” Gannara said.  “Since couples have started sleeping in the Temple women are getting pregnant again. It’s a bit of a hardship but if childless couples can come to the City itself as an act of devotion…”

“That’s what’s started.  People are starting to call it the Pilgrimage for children,” Farasha said.

“Hmm.” Ky sat up, rubbing her shoulders.

“Here, let me rub your back for you.” Gannara moved over to sit behind her and she leaned back against his hands.

“Oooh, ah, ow!”

“Sorry.”

“No, keep going, it hurts in a good way,” she said.  “That’s all well and good for Arko.  But this childless plague has made it to Tor Ench and I’ve heard rumours that it’s beginning to hit Hyrene, though I’ve only had one person write me about it.”

“This seems to be Arko’s responsibility, at least to try and find a way of keeping this from spreading any further,” Farasha said.   

“We’re lucky that Minis is friends with so many other rulers or someone might, in a fit of rage, have accused us of waging a kind of war.”

“Chevenga's idea of an Assembly of Nations is a good one," Gannara said quietly.  "Even if the members haven't started meeting yet. The Assembly aren't even talking about choosing a representative. They're stuck on arguing how long they think they need to get Minis to talk to the Gods.”

“And we’re waiting for news from the North Tunnel and passes.  How is that prophet holding on to people with his ridiculous sermons?”

“I don’t know.  We should be starting to get wing couriers coming back any day now.  Pasen has to get more troops into place to keep the passes closed.”

Farasha nibbled thoughtfully on a bread stick.  “So there's more waiting to do. I’m liking that Ili has made friends with the little Haian girl, she’s a good influence on him, at least what Gian says.  He’s actually studying, though it’s all about animal husbandry.”

Ky laughed.  “At least Gian is able to get him to study about other creatures than domoctopus and horses!”

Gannara got up and pulled off his shirt, himself.  He was quite glad that they could tell the servants to go to bed early now, without everyone being affronted and stuffy that their services ‘aren’t sufficient’. “I wish our lives were more like characters in a novel,” he said.  “At least that way there’s only one thing going on at a time, not whole herds of them.”

His wife laughed as he tucked himself around her in the bed.  “Bad novels, you mean,” she said.  “Interesting ones have too many interesting characters.”

“So…you get to focus on the plot revolving about us,” he teased her.  “Having a baby.” He laughed as the baby kicked his hand from inside.  “Maybe that’s why so many writers write about orphans or loners… most people have too much family for a nice, tidy story.”

Kyriala hoisted herself up, smiling.  “And messy things like visiting the garderobe all the time don’t happen.”

They all laughed.  “I’ll stay up for when Minis comes to bed,” Ky said.  “He’s promised that after this meeting or whatever with Megan he won’t go back up to the office.”

“All right, dear,” Farasha said. “He really doesn’t have to follow his mentors’ extreme work schedules.”

“Try to tell him that.  Kallijas worked extra hours because he wasn’t raised up with the Imperial education, Chevenga was rebuilding the City and Empire after the war,” Gannara said into Farasha’s hair.

Kyriala smiled as she blew out all but one lamp in the sitting area.  “I have enough light to read by,” she said. “Good night, loves.”