Lies of Light

7

20 Alturiak, the Year of the Sword (1365 DR) The Canal Site

When she first saw the work site Ran Ai Yu thought it was some kind of military drill. The sight of it gave the immediate impression of rigid organization that she had only experienced at the edge of a parade ground. But then details presented themselves, pieces took shape out of the whole, and that impression disappeared. She was left with chaosmadness, evena barrage of colors and dizzying movement that erased any sense of organization at all, until she once again let those details melt into the beautiful whole.

“These men are all at your command?” she asked Devorast, who stood beside her on a low hill.

The sound of the men working deafened her, but then Devorast didn’t answer anyway. Picks chipped stone, shovels moved dirt and clay, and carts trundled past full of rocks, earth, wood, and more men. Oxen grunted, foremen shouted orders, and it was like music for a great dance.

“This is as it should be,” she said, unconcerned with whether or not Devorast could hear her. “You will find your destiny here. Your spirit will fill itself with this work.”

The heavy, damp air carried the smell of the Lake of Steam, but only faintly under the stench of turned earth and sweating bodies. It smelled like hard work.

“I hope you live to see its completion,” she said.

Devorast shruggeda response that would have been considered rude in Shou Lungbut she took no offense.

Ran Ai Yu crouched and touched the dirt at her feet. It was damp but not muddy, and she was able to scoop up a handful, testing the weight of it in her hand. She tried to imagine the weight of the dirt and rock, the trees and weeds, that Devorast meant to move to make the trench for his canal. Then she tried to imagine the weight of the water that would fill it, and though she’d plied the waters of a far greater canal in her far-off homeland, still the weight felt unbearable.

“You will not require that I tell you how many people there must be… powerful people even… who will wish for you to fail,” she told him.

He waited for her to look up at him before he shrugged again.

She let the dirt pour out through her fingers, and something made her touch the tip of her tongue. She didn’t try to understand the impulse to taste it any more than she wanted to stop it. She just wanted to taste itwanted to experience it with every one of her senses. It tasted like life, but not the same way food or water tasted; not physical life, but a deeper need within each human, the drive to build, the imperative to leave something behind, to make some mark. It tasted like the vital necessity to say, “I was here.”

“Yes,” he said, “you are.”

Ran Ai Yu felt her cheeks redden and her ears burn. She stood, avoiding his eyes.

“I had not meant to… to speak that,” she stammered, her Common almost deserting her.

Devorast said, “I’ve tasted it too.”

She smiled at that, and smiled wider than she felt proper in front of a man she had not

The Shou merchant pushed that thought away before it was completed.

“This is supported by your leader,” she asked, “your ransar?”

“I don’t consider him my ransar,” Devorast replied, “but yes, it is.”

“Both with the gold to pay these men and to buy their tools and materials, and so on,” she said then had to pause to again search her memory for the correct word. “Politically?”

Devorast nodded. He didn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes darted from one part of the realization of his genius to another.

“It is my understanding, having traveled to Innarlith on more than one occasion,” she went on, “and over more than a few years, that their ransar is a temporary post. Is this not true?”

He glanced at her with a mischievous grin that further embarrassed her, and said, “Any job that is answerable to others could be called temporary.”

“Ah, and is that not true of master builder?”

“I’m not the ransar’s master builder,” he said.

“Even worse for you, I should think.”

He looked at her again, but for a longer time, and she finally met his gaze.

“If it is the ransar’s gold and the ransar’s men,” she said, “then you work for him, whether either of you admit it or not. If… pardon me, when there is a new ransar, will that ransar be as generous? Will he be as taken with this canal as is Osorkon?”

Devorast replied, “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Of course, I’ve considered that.”

“And you have a plan?”

Devorast was silent.

“Meykhati,” she said. “You’ve heard this name? You know this man?”

“I’ve heard the name.”

“There is a reception at his home in six days’ time,” Ran Ai Yu said. “I have been invited, and you should come with me there.”

“I have no time for social”

“Do you have time to bury your garbage to keep the seagulls away?” she asked, glancing up at the sky but gesturing with one open hand at a refuse pit.

He didn’t follow her gaze. He knew there were no gulls.

“Of course you do,” she said. “You make time for what is important for the completion of your canal, even if it is not pleasant to consider or to do.”

Again, silence.

“Meykhati will likely be the next ransar,” she said. “How do you know that?”

“I do not know that,” Ran Ai Yu replied. “I have heard it said by people who I have reason to believe have reason to believe it. That is enough, for me, to begin to acquaint myself with this man so that he knows my name and my face, knows my trade, in the event that these people are correct.”

“And I should do the same,” he said. “I should ingratiate myself to this pointless, mumbling busybody so that on the off chance that he succeeds Osorkon he will continue to support the canal?”

“Master Lau Cheung Fen will be there,” she added, “at this gathering of Meykhati’s friends and associates.”

“And sycophants.”

“And those who think ahead.”

He shook his head.

“Perhaps,” she said, “if Meykhati feels well toward you and your efforts here, with Meykhati as ransar, you will be his master builder, even if you are not Osorkon’s.”

“I have no interest in titles and offices,” Devorast told her. “I build to build, not to advance myself in the Second Quarter.”

“I understand that the master builder of the moment may have decided to keep hold of that title and office anyway, should Meykhati advance. He will be there with his daughter.”

Devorast stiffenednot much, barely enough for Ran Ai Yu to notice. Could it be that Devorast sought the post of master builder after all? Or was it something else she’d said?

“Perhaps,” he said. “Yes. Fine.”