“Check,” she said, speaking her first word to Aesoe.
Aesoe laughed. It was checkmate. He waited for her to eat the White Child as was the custom — but she would not. That was her custom.
“Come,” he said. “I would speak to you.”
It was near dawn, and he insisted on taking her up to the Room of Ritual Suicide to watch the vast red circle of rising Getasun transform the ovoids of the Kaiel Palace into molten iron. Oelita waited. It was not right for her to speak first, but she was content to observe.
“You will be dealing with Hoemei. That is my wish. Drive a hard bargain with him. Drive a ruthless bargain and I will back you.”
“I want Scowlmoon, polished to a bronze sheen, for my morning mirror.”
Aesoe laughed. “You will not get it.”
“You only have a city with marvels of architecture, wealth, and land to give?”
“And very little of that is mine. I can’t change the religion of my people, for instance.”
“What if your wealth is not great enough to buy me?”
“Then you must ask the Mnankrei for their wealth.”
So much for that. She changed the subject. “It seems to me that you sent for me.”
“No. You came.”
“But you’ve been interested before I came.”
“And chose the wrong vessel to contact you! May Joesai die with no one to honor his flesh!”
“The first thing I will ask of you is that Joesai not be harmed.”
“So it is true what they say about you, that you collect the wretches of the world!” He laughed. “I give you Joesai, in pieces or whole. That I can do. Joesai is not the moon. What next?”
“You could start by telling me what it is that I am to negotiate with Hoemei?”
“Why, the terms of the surrender of Sorrow to the rule of the Kaiel.”
“That is not mine to give.” This man was mad!
“Tell me then, to whom should I speak?”
The Stgal are the priests of Sorrow.”
“Ah, the Stgal. I have made a study of whom they represent. They represent themselves. And who represents the people of Sorrow? There is only you, and while it is true that you are not a priest, little details like that have never bothered me overmuch. I’ll make an honorary priest of you. Marry into one of my families and I’ll make a genuine priest of you! You are Kaiel in your soul and don’t know it.” He smiled gently.
“What makes me Kaiel?”
“You doubt my word?”
“Yes!”
“Ho! So it is true that I can see some of what you fail to see? After our chess game I was despairing for my vision!”
“You taunt me! Which of my ways are Kaiel-like?”
“Perhaps your need for flattery?” he teased.
“I would know how I am Kaiel-like so that I might cleanse my soul,” she retorted instantly.
“Then you must abandon the self-aspect that makes you a political force,” he chuckled. “The very first thing about a Kaiel is that he is not a hereditary ruler, he is a hereditary representative. Who knows how this came about? It did. Tae ran-Kaiel understood it and formalized our custom so that now we all understand why the Kaiel have had victory where all others have failed. Tell me, if one of your people had a problem, would you know?”
“I make that my business.”
“So my spies noticed. In Sorrow such behavior is unheard of. It is your mission to work toward a mutual solution to the collective problems of those people who have sworn their loyalty to you. Who but a Kaiel thinks that way? A Kaiel is nothing in our councils until he represents somebody. It matters not where his genes come from, nor who his father was, nor who his mother was, nor the lineage of his teachers. You have a following. That is Kaiel. Why should I talk to a Stgal who rules because his father built a house on some hill? If the Stgal made a deal with me, would I have the loyalty of the people of Sorrow? No. If I make a deal with you, will I have the loyalty of your people? I believe that would be so.”
“I hardly speak for the most powerful of Sorrow. My people are mostly lowly in kalothi.”
“You speak with a misordered appreciation of kalothi. Does not a man who can bond himself to another for a mutual goal have greater kalothi than the fool who tries to carry a house upon his own back?”
“You’re made of brass. I’m to sell you our land and our heritage and all the people in it, and with that piece of paper from me, you will march in and take everything!”
Aesoe roared amusement. “Your attention span is short! How many heartbeats ago was I telling you to drive a hard bargain with Hoemei? I meant a bargain you will be satisfied with — now, tomorrow. I can deal with you because you represent more than yourself. I don’t know your people. How would I know what they want? How should I know what they need? You do. And Hoemei knows what we can give.”
“The coast is not for sale.”
“Vomit of God! Once there was a fool who found a bar of gold in the desert that was too heavy for him to carry so he guarded it and left his bones guarding it! Is that your thought?”
“In Getan mythology wherever there is a fool, there is also a wise man.” She was asking him to continue his story.
“The wiser man found the bar and could not carry it, either. He selected a friend he could trust and offered him half the gold to help him carry it to the city. Is not the moral self-evident? For a whole bar of gold you can buy nothing. For half a bar you can buy even immortality for your genes! Is help so bad? Is a man who offers you help, because you can help him, to be viewed as an enemy who will cheat you? Make a deal with me!”
“I’m cynical about deals. I’ve made contracts before.”
“Build all the guarantees you want into it! Of course some of the deal will fall through. A contract is a piece of paper made now. It has flaws. We can’t foresee the future. Look into the Archives and see how often I’ve been wrong. But when the deal deviates from its stated purpose, you don’t cry and feel cheated and rave about the dishonesty of your partner, you sit down and deal again until you are satisfied. You change the conditions to meet whatever happened up there in the future. What would I gain from cheating you? Position? A few pieces off the board in the early game? What is that worth to me if your children feel the necessity to cheat my children because you were cheated? Then the Kaiel would die! Then I would die! My sperm is on ice until the day when my dealings make their long-term payoff. How many priest clans are extinct because they didn’t learn to live beyond immediate gain? The Stgal are surviving now by covert dealings — a smile to your face, and poison in your cup. How long will they last? How many drops of kalothi is there in the most flawless dishonesty? All I ask — make a deal with me that satisfies you.”
“It will have to satisfy you, too.” She was struggling with the force of his attack.
“Of course!”
“I think I understand you. You will outdo yourself to take half of my gold.”
“God’s Eyeballs! Have I been raving in vain? You do not understand me. I want the privilege of being with a lovely woman while I get a hernia hassling her gold to market. I like the joy of planning how we’re going to spend it. Now do you understand me!”
“Yes. You’re a lecher.”
34
On the foothills of the Wailing Mountains above d’go-Vanieta Mi’Holoie spoke to the forepriests of the Gathering of Ache. “Is it enough to be sharp? A merciful man may be sharp. Will the point of a needle that penetrates flesh pass through steel? Flesh is mastered by Metal and Metal is mastered by Cruelty. Our Love of God’s Flesh has smelted us, the journey here has purified our Metal, and the Tourney of Extreme Trial has hardened our hearts to Cruel Temper. At dawn we pierce the metal of this heresy to its Arant flesh. Cruelty is not deflected. The Arant shall willingly offer us Feast by sunset.”