“You don’t want much, do you?”
“I want to be free. I want you to be free. Then if you wish, we will take spears or swords or knives and you can see about making the world one where you don’t have to think about me.”
A smoky light came into Krar’s amber eyes.
“Take his hand,” Tral said impatiently. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”
With another deep breath Krar shook his head, but grasped Ranowr’s hand.
“I know I’m going to regret this,” he muttered.
“Maybe we all will,” Ranowr said. “But it’s still the right thing to do.”
Hisshah approached her mother’s riding krelprep cautiously; it was an unpredictable beast that liked to kick and bite. It pulled its muzzle out of the feeding trough and looked at her across the polished saccar-wood railing, its skin gleaming with health and careful grooming.
It had bitten her, almost trampling and killing her twice while her mother looked on, waiting to see if her daughter could control it. The animal was a beauty though, strong and sinuous with fancy yellow-and-green markings. She hated it. She stood looking at it for a few moments, then she struck.
First a push at the nervecord within the spine, which caused the beast to bellow in confusion as its legs collapsed. That was delightful, but painfully loud, and Mrem slaves would come running to see what the trouble was-they would pay for any injury to the prized beast. So she cut off its air, just a little pinch within the windpipe. She watched it thrash helplessly, its golden eyes rolling in panic. Then she ended it, grasping at the delicate tissues of its brain, like dragging mental claws through jelly.
It collapsed, kicked, voided and died in less time than it took to think the words, so much dead meat, its colors dimming already and its tongue lying out across its teeth.
Hisshah smiled. Her mother would be displeased; she’d been proud of her mastery of this willful beast. But Hisshah was thrilled. This had been the first large creature she’d tried out her new power on. And it had gone exactly as she’d expected. Her whole being was alight with joy. She had a great power. As great as her mother’s if less spectacular.
I feel…I feel so happy. Happy as I have not been since I was a little hatchling.
She looked around; no one had heard the commotion, it seemed. With a soft laugh she turned and walked from the stable. Her mother would be so annoyed.
The guard struck Ranowr with a couple of light blows, almost for form’s sake. Then he said wearily:
“What’s the password for the day?”
“ Mighty is Thress, master,” Ranowr said cautiously.
Three of the closest Liskash warriors hissed uncontrolably. One of them clapped both hands to his snout, covering his nostrils in horrified surprise. Another’s spear clattered on the stones, its steel head clanging with a discordant ring that died into the sudden stillness of the morning. A third was backing away, his lips and nose squeezed tight, his whole head jerking with the need to hiss laughter.
“ What was that? ”
“Master! I said Mighty is Thress! ”
This time he did say it, working to keep his tone hard-edged and crisp like one of the rulers. He was almost as horrified as the guards at the-unintentional-slip. For a moment he thought Thress would die then; veins were visible under the fine scales beneath his throat, and his pupils opened until they were ovals that were almost round.
It was exactly the sort of petty but cunning spite the young goddess would come up with.
“Go,” Thress said, his hands trembling; his voice was beyond rage, almost pleading. “Go, go.”
The Liskash was turning to his subordinates even as the Mrem backed away. Hissing and snapping-stone shrieks rose as he walked away.
Soon, Ranowr thought as he walked away rubbing his arm.
He had everything in readiness; the wagons and tack were arranged for a swift departure under the guise of a new efficiency. Stores of food and blankets and tents were ready to hand, allegedly in the event of a neighbor attacking. So far they’d gotten away with everything and the steward was pleased that they were working so diligently.
It’s easy to work hard when it’s for your own benefit, Ranowr thought grimly. We’d never have shown them how hard we can work, otherwise.
“You were seen leaving the stable,” Ashala screamed, her voice echoing through the hall. She pounded her fist on the arm of her throne. “Tell me what you did to my krelprep!”
“What makes you think I did anything to it?” Hisshah asked her mother boldly.
Ashala paused. This was most unlike her daughter, who, though on her knees where she belonged, was otherwise upright, instead of her usual cowering posture and was meeting her eyes. She leaned back in her throne. If there was one thing she’d learned in her years as ruler of this domain it was that such a change of attitude could be dangerous.
“What were you doing in the stables?” she asked.
“I merely visited my own krelprep to see how it fared.”
“You never visit your beast,” Ashala reminded her. “You hate krelprep.”
“I’m not fond of them, it’s true. But we’re about to go to war and I don’t intend to walk.”
Hisshah paused. “What happened to your krelprep?”
Ashala glared at her. “As if you don’t know,” she growled.
The younger female returned the glare with a look of innocence.
“You know I would never go anywhere near your krelprep. It’s tried to kill me twice. What could I possibly have done to it without getting in reach of its teeth?”
“It’s dead,” Ashala said through clenched teeth.
“What happened to it?” Hisshah asked.
Hiding her glee was as hard as anything she had ever done. Boldness seemed to be working. At the start of this conversation she’d thought she’d be receiving a whipping by now. Possibly that she’d be a bubbling grease-stain on the stones.
“We don’t know. There isn’t a mark on it,” the great goddess said.
“There’s been some sickness in the barn, the hostlers have been complaining of dead smerp and worrying that whatever killed them will spread to the krelprep. Perhaps that’s what happened to yours.”
Indeed I know for a fact that’s what happened to yours, Hisshah thought. “Perhaps we should clear that barn and burn it down.”
Ashala was still visibly angry, but also thoughtful. What her daughter had said was not unreasonable.
Thress leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“You could have poisoned my beast,” the great goddess said.
Hisshah gave an exaggerated sigh. “If I tried to give food to your krelprep it would have taken off my hand. And if I bribed a stabler to give it food he would report it to you instantly.”
She raised her hands. “Has anyone made such a report?”
It was beginning to feel like she was going to get away with this.
Once again Ashala looked thoughtful, once again Thress whispered.
“Did you kill my krelprep?” she demanded.
Hisshah stared at her for a long moment.
Why not now? she asked herself. Now is as good a time as any.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Her mother’s eyes flared and she knew herself in danger. She still thought she was safe from burning, but she could see that her mother was thinking about it. She readied herself to strike.
“That thing hated me,” Hisshah said. “It wanted to kill me, but I didn’t want to die. It was me or the krelprep, Mother. Which would you rather have alive?”
Ashala actually blinked in surprise to hear her daughter call her mother in open court. She looked out at the assembled courtiers and then frowned at her heir. If Hisshah was clever enough to be able to kill a beast so much stronger and more vicious than she was then perhaps she was too dangerous to have around. She prepared to strike her.