The other lands

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Barad was picky about the company he kept. He liked honest folk, unselfish and moral and capable of empathy-mothers and fathers who loved, brothers and sisters who cared for each other. He wanted to know that he was listened to when he spoke, and he wanted to believe the words that were spoken to him. He liked people who had known some hardship but who still had the capacity to envision a better future for themselves and others. For all these reasons he tended to avoid royalty. For that matter, he had little use for the upper class in general. In striving for the greater good for many, however, one sometimes had to deal with questionable elements.

That was why Barad had agreed to allow the young Aushenian king, Grae, to attend the first meeting of the Kindred. In his early twenties, Grae was the son of Guldan, a half brother to Igguldan born of the king's second wife. He had been young enough to be spared fighting in the war that took his father and older brothers. He and his younger brother, Ganet, had lived it out in the remote north of Aushenia. He had grown to maturity during Hanish's rule, when Numrek roamed his lands at will, inflicting all sorts of degradations. That must have hurt his heartsore pride.

He had been a fierce leader during the turmoil of Hanish's overthrow. After securing his own lands, he had even marched through the Gradthic Gap and laid siege to Mein Tahalian. He would have won it, too, if Corinn had not sent Mena with Numrek troops to yank him back. Corinn was content to let him keep his throne for the sake of stability, but she would not allow anyone to redraw national boundaries without her consent. They pushed him back to Aushenia, with permission to rule within his borders as he saw fit-as long as that was in line with the various things the empire required of him.

If Grae was thankful for having lived to call himself king, it did not show on his face or in his demeanor. His haughty blue eyes had an edge of disdain in them. Barad imagined many women would find him quite attractive. He was strong jawed; his forehead was high and the hair above it strangely disheveled, windblown but in a manner that Barad suspected was in fashion. It troubled Barad that anyone with a title was aware of his objectives, but many people he trusted had vouched for the king's passionate desire to see the Akarans overthrown. And so he now sat opposite the prophet at a large, low table in the back room of a pub in the port town of Denben in northern Talay.

The resistance representatives hailed from all the provinces except Vumu, which was too distant to be a major force. They made for a strange company. Only Grae wore the finery of aristocracy. Otherwise, the men and women dressed as what they were: a merchant from Bocoum, a tribal councilman from Palik, a blacksmith from Elos, a dockworker from Nesreh, a tavern mistress from Senival, an architect from Alecia, a huntsman from Scatevith, and more. Their complexions and features varied with their races, making them a collage of much of the Known World's diversity. Barad himself looked as he always did, more like an aging laborer in coarse clothes than a dissident intent on overthrowing a powerful empire.

None of them, other than Grae, commanded an army, but all of them had been true to the secret objectives they shared. They had protected the coded language through which they corresponded, often sending communications on the lips of travelers who had no idea they were messengers. For most of them, it had been a long road to get here, to sit in nervous expectation, finally meeting face-to-face as one group united in a purpose that stretched across borders, mountains, forests, and seas.

"It is a blessed thing," Barad began in his deep voice, "that we finally can meet this way. It doesn't matter that this room smells of beer and sweat. It doesn't matter that this is a poor man's pub and that soon they'll be singing bawdy songs in the rooms beside this one. None of that matters. Look around you. The faces that you see are faces of the Kindred. We have always been so, but this meeting marks the day we sit together as one family and drink of the same cup. Let us do so twice: now, to begin our partnership and at the end of this meeting, to confirm it."

Motioning with his large hands, he indicated that he meant this literally. On the otherwise bare table before him sat a large silver chalice. It was a simple vessel, not particularly ornate, wide mouthed and tarnished by age. A dark, rich wine stained the metal as Barad lifted it, held it for the others to see, and then drank. He passed it to the woman beside him. She was drawfed by his height, but she took the cup reverently, drank from it, then passed it on. The chalice moved around in silence until it reached the far side of the table.

"Forgive me, King Grae, but before you drink let us hear from you. Of all the company, you are the newest to join. Confirm, please, that you are truly one of us," Barad added, smiling to lighten the request. "You see, you could turn us in most readily, whisper it right into Corinn's lovely ear if you wished. Tell us why you would never do that." Barad hid behind his smile the fact that this was unlikely. The Kindred had placed agents in Killintich some years ago. Some of them were quite close to the king, close enough to slit his throat while he slept should it seem like he was going to betray them. But, still, much better that such a thing not be necessary.

It was clear that the monarch, young as he was, was not used to being evaluated. He held the chalice for a moment, rolling the stem in his fingers as if he were considering drinking the whole thing down first, speaking later. He set it down, though, and met the waiting faces. "You'll have me prove my loyalty to you? That's easy, because my loyalty to you is twinned with my loyalty to Aushenia. All that I will ever do will be for my nation's good. And my nation has suffered too long. Have you forgotten this? We suffered throughout our generations of independence, when the Akarans did everything they could to break our resolve, to impoverish us. And yet it was Aushenia that first suffered from the Meinish and Numrek onslaught. We suffered the brunt of their attack. We! The Aushenian people. We were the first wall they smashed against. My brother Igguldan died at Aushenguk Fell while the princes and councillors of Acacia fluttered about like upset chickens. We died first-and this was just weeks after offering our soul to Acacia in partnership."

"I know this is true," Barad said. "You were wronged."

"We were wronged!" Grae echoed, his voice higher and louder than the large man's. "Once we were beaten, Hanish Mein gave us over to those beasts. And yet Queen Corinn expects us to forget the past. She'll have us take what scraps she throws our way, even as she stands with her dogs at either hand. The insult of it is more than I can bear. So I will not bear it."

"We are on the same side, then," Barad said. "The suppression of the many by the few insults us all."

Grae drew himself upright and inhaled through his nose before he spoke. He put emphasis on one word, thereby stressing the particularity of his agreement with the statement. "The suppression of the many by the few does insult us all. The Akarans are the suppressors of this world. Aushenia will never forget that. I, as their king, will make sure of that."

The representative from Aos, a man named Hunt, said, "King, your conviction on this is clear, but I hear Dariel is spoken of fondly by your people. Has he not committed himself to benevolent projects in your kingdom? Rebuilding much of what was-"

"The prince's work is nothing to me. I let him drop his sweat on the ground of Aushenia, but I do not love him for it."

"But the people, do they not-"

"My people are not so easily appeased. Remember that we went twenty-two generations outside the Acacian Empire. None of my people has forgotten that. None of them wants things to remain as they are."

Elaz, the warehouse manager who had greeted Barad in Nesreh, asked, "What do they want, then?"

"They want what all of us here want; the end of Acacian rule, the return to the power of independent nations. The world was shaped better before Edifus went mad for power. In Aushenia we have long memories. Children are even taught to read using Queen Elena's Decree. We know in our bones that all the people of the Known World have the right to govern themselves. Let us return to what he destroyed with his Wars of Distribution."

Lady Shenk, a tavern mistress from Senival, asked, "Do you think that the world was paradise then? It was not. It was a mess! The world was a patchwork of feuding tribes led by petty chieftains. Dogs fighting for scraps, they were. Is that what you want to have again?"

"Of course not," Grae snapped. He seemed taken aback by being spoken to thusly by a commoner. He had asked to be here, though, and controlled the temper that flushed his face crimson. "But much has changed since then. We would return to the best of the past and strengthen it with the best of the present. Each nation will have its own king and queen, who will decide what is best for their people, not an outsider sitting in her palace in Acacia deciding for everyone. This is what we all want, right?"

Silence. The others looked about. For a moment they heard the commotion of the pub through the walls-chatter, a tune sung by a melancholy voice. Their eyes came to rest on Barad, who eventually answered, "You are the only one here who wears a crown. Too much talk of kings and queens does not go down well with this wine. Remember, King Grae, that no monarch can win against Corinn now. No nation can overthrow the Akarans by force. The Mein did it, yes, but the Mein have been vanquished. And the Mein nurtured their plans for years and years before they acted. You surely have not the patience to wait overlong. No, Corinn has a firmer grip on the Known World than her family has had for years. She feeds the nobles of each nation rubies, even as she digs diamonds from their land. She keeps a court made up not just of the best from all the nations but of the most beloved sons and daughters of all the world's kings. Your own sister is among her ladies. Isn't that so? She holds them hostage, the first victims to suffer in the event of any attack. If there is no such attack, all is well. The court is pleasure. The nobles collect their rubies. The kings and queens, Grae, are the only ones in the Known World who aren't suffering like the rest.

"That is why the rising will not be one of massed armies standing behind banners. Instead, it will be a unity of action among the common people. They will rise. They will all put down their tools and demand that the world be remade. That is what the rising will be based on. There will be blood, yes. There will be turmoil. We will be tested. But we will win because we are right, our cause is just, and the world cannot remain blind to it forever. We do not even hate the Akarans. It is Aliver who spoke to me and put this mission inside me. It is possible, when the change has happened, that Corinn will be a part of the new order, if she accepts it. All this may be hard for a king to imagine."

Close lipped, Grae asked, "Do you so doubt me?"

"No. If we did, you would not be here. Many have vouched for you. Hunt has watched Aushenia for years. He believes you are different from most in your class. We question you now only because you must understand our objective. It is not to wipe away corruption and replace it with new corruption."

"So what sort of system do you foresee? When the Akarans are gone, who will rule?"

"The people themselves."

"The people themselves?" Grae checked other faces, apparently wondering if any found that as amusing as he did. "I trust you have a more detailed plan than that."

Barad knew that was a reasonable supposition. He had been asked it many times before, and he had meditated on it quite often. He always returned to the same central conviction: what happened after the rising was not his concern. The people would have to face that themselves, together, in many different ways in all the many nations. He would be one among them, but he had no desire to impose his rule on them or to dictate what they should do with their freedom. His charge-given to him by the Giver and through Aliver's voice-was to break the shackles, to clear minds, to instill a belief in a better future. That was as far as it went. He knew there was danger in thinking thusly, for some men, like this king here, would surely grasp for the reins of power themselves, but this was as it had to be.

He answered as he always did. "The people will do what they will with their freedom. They have earned that right many times over."

"And if someone else tries to take Corinn's throne as his own?"

"The people will make this change happen. They are tired, tired of trading one despot for another. I pity the man-or woman-who tries to reenslave them."

Grae thought about this for a while. He fingered the stem of the chalice. "I was born a prince of Aushenia. It fell to me to become my people's king. I would just as soon it had not and that I still had my brother and father. But this crown is my fate. It is not my fate, though, to wear any other crown. I do not covet Corinn's empire. I want only Aushenia. My rule of it is a matter between me and my people. Will the Kindred acknowledge that?"

Barad shrugged. "As I said, I will not dictate how people should live. Yes, that can be between you and the people of Aushenia." Nobody said anything, but several nodded curtly. "What of your brother? Might he not wish to be a king?"

"A king of Aushenia, perhaps," Grae said, "but only if I venture to the marshes to hunt with Kralith-"

Lady Shenk interrupted him. "Quit the Aushenian poetry and speak plain. You mean to say only if you die, right?"

"Only then," Grae said curtly. "I swear to you that my brother and I are of one mind on this. How about this, then? I'll pledge you my people's support. Aushenia will join this rising, and when it's accomplished we will demand only our freedom to live as we will, to our benefit."

"I do not acknowledge your right to pledge other people's support," Barad said. "I am already well known to your people. Many are already friends of the Kindred." He let this sit a moment, but not long enough for Grae to respond. "I will, however, welcome your personal support, and I will welcome you using your influence in whatever ways help the people's cause. Do any disagree?"

Nobody did.

"Good," Barad said. "Then there is only one other thing I must ask you. You should know that there is a reason I want you with us. Although the Kindred will not win by war alone, war is to be a part of what's to come. We have some warriors in our ranks, but we need a leader for them. You could be that leader. You have been trained for such things. When Corinn tries to squash us with her Marah, her army, her Numrek, will you lead our military?"

Grae grinned, youthful and arrogant and comfortable in himself again. He asked the room, "The queen would never dream that her fate would be sealed in the back room of a grimy pub in Denben, would she?" To Barad he said, "I would like nothing more than to lead our warriors. All my soldiers will say the same."

"We have an agreement on that, then. I may want even more of you, though. Let's start by traveling together-perhaps with your younger brother as well, if you truly believe he will join our cause. I will show you both some of the world as I see it. Perhaps you will find the view different from the one seen atop a throne."

"You are an odd man, Barad the Lesser. They tell me you were a strong man in your youth. Perhaps you still are. When all this is over, you and I should compete together. Will you run the Killintich race against me?"

"I do not think that's a race I could win, but if you wish… Drink now, King, and be one of us."

Barad watched as the young man lifted the chalice and tilted it back. The boy was brash. Perhaps he would be a danger. Or perhaps he would die like his half brother. Barad then let his eyes wander around the rest of the company. He liked what he saw. He did not claim to predict the particulars of the future. But he did know at his very core that a great change was coming. Soon. Soon they would rise. It was, he believed, all coming together. Her highness would be dumbfounded when it hit her.