A young man climbed onto the platform of the central construct, the others drawing back to give him room. Tiaan feasted her eyes on him. Minis was tall, but not too tall; well built, though not extravagantly so. His dark hair fell in waves about his ears. His cheeks were thinner than she remembered, but his brow just as noble, his lips as ripe.
'Minis!' Tiaan called. 'I came as I promised. I have travelled halfway across the world to bring you here.' She threw out her arms to him.
He stared at her unmoving, as if he had no idea who she was. Tiaan went cold inside. But perhaps he was too reserved to show it before so many people.
'Minis. You said that you cared for me.' She dared not use the word 'love', not now. 'I have a gift for you.' Feeling in her scrip she drew the ring out. Running forward until she was just a few spans from the construct, she held it up. 'Minis, I made this ring with my own hands.'
She fell silent. It was a beautiful thing, but greater beauty lay all around, in the constructs and in Tirthrax. Everything the Aachim made was beautiful. She felt her own artisan's skills were meagre, her ring a rustic token that would embarrass him.
Minis smiled and put out his own arms. His fingers were remarkably long, an Aachim characteristic. The pupils of his eyes were oval.
'Tiaan, my love,' he cried, his voice as ringing as Vithis's, but warmer. 'For a minute I did not recognise you. Indeed I promised, and I keep my promises.'
'I've had enough of this nonsense!' cried Vithis, pushing through. 'Look what a shabby little wretch she is. This is not what I raised you for, foster-son. You are my sole heir now and I cannot allow it. Toss her a bag of platinum and be done with her.'
'But Vithis, foster-father – '
'We were slaves on our own world for thousands of years, foster-son. No sooner did we gain our freedom than our world died on us. History has used us ill. Never more will we be slaves! My clan died that we might stand here today, and if we are to take this world we cannot afford to lose anyone. Especially not you, Minis! You are all I have left. Together we must create Clan Inthis anew.'
Minis's extended fingers, which had touched the ring, drew back.
Tiaan's hand fell to her side. She could think of nothing to say. Had she given her all to be treated so badly?
'Tiaan!' cried Minis. 'We're not like that. Please believe me, Tiaan.' He tried to get down but Vithis held him back.
'Don't grovel, boy. We are Aachim and we have a world to make our own.'
'Please foster-father.'
Vithis tossed a bag to the floor. It clinked as it landed. 'A bag of platinum for your service, Tiaan.'
'Damn you!' she raged. 'You can't buy me.'
Minis had scrambled down the side of the construct and hung there, one foot on the rung, the other in the air. 'Tiaan -'
'Come back, boy,' grated Vithis. 'Put one foot on the floor and you are Aachim no longer.'
'But foster-father. Honour -'
'Honour demands that you stand by your own. We cannot do without anyone, but especially not you.'
Minis hesitated, and for the first time she realised that he was not strong at all. He wanted to please everybody.
'We're outnumbered a thousand to one,' Vithis said softly, 'We need you, Minis.'
Minis hung on the rung, his face anguished. Tiaan prayed. Surely he could not refuse her after all she'd done, and suffered, for him. Their eyes met. There was such terrible yearning in his. He did love her, she knew it. He must!
The moment stretched out to eternity. She felt uncounted eyes on her, weighing up her face, her ragged hair, the tattered clothes. She knew what they were thinking.
'Well, boy? Do you cleave to the wretch, abandoning your own people who hold such hopes in you? Is eternal exile what you want? She'll be dead in twenty or thirty years. If you live to be a thousand we'll not take you back.'
Minis looked up at them. 'What if she were to come with us?'
Vithis looked taken aback, but Luxor and Tirior spoke to him in urgent tones, evidently favouring this way out of the impasse. Vithis turned back.
'Not as your partner, Minis! She is not Aachim, and you know the sad fate of blending children.' He spoke with the others again. 'Very well. She has done us honourably, despite her blunder. You may bring her as your concubine, as long as precautions are taken.'
'Will you come with us, Tiaan?' Minis said with pleading eyes. 'As my lover?'
Tiaan was mortally insulted. That was not what she'd had in mind at all. Concubine was a transaction that reminded her of the breeding factory. But… would it not be better than to lose Minis? She hesitated.
Minis reached out an arm, let it fall, then raised it again. 'Tiaan…' He broke off at a movement in the shadows to Tiaan's left. Something flashed in and out of the rubble. Tiaan had forgotten Haani. What must the child be thinking, hearing all this?
'Don't leave me, Tiaan!' screamed Haani. 'Please don't go with him.'
Tiaan recognised the danger too late. 'No, Haani! Stay back!'
At the movement, the man in the turret swung his weapon around, aimed and released the lever. With deadly accuracy, it fired a club-headed projectile, meant to stun a warrior. As Haani emerged from the darkness the club struck her full in the chest, lifting her off her feet. She fell without a sound.
Tiaan dropped the ring and ran. 'Haani, Haani!' She fell to her knees beside the child, who lay on her back like a broken thing. Haani was trying to breathe but her chest was crushed. Liquid gurgled in her lungs.
Haani looked up at her. 'My chest hurts,' she gasped. 'Help me, Tiaan. Sister.'
'Of course I'll help you.' Tiaan could barely see for the tears dripping from her eyes.
'You won't leave me, will you?' Haani choked. 'Not like my mother and father and aunts did?' She managed to get a breath. The pain made her shudder.
'I'll never leave you, Haani. I'll be with you until the day I die.'
'I'm sorry!' wept Haani, trying vainly to reach into her pocket. 'I forgot…'
'What is it, little sister?'
'I forgot to give you your birthday present.' Tears poured down her cheeks.
Tiaan was having just as much trouble breathing. 'It doesn't matter, Haani.'
'It's today, and I forgot!' she gasped, struggling for breath. 'I'm sorry, Tiaan.' Haani fumbled out a folded piece of leather, the last of the piece Tiaan had cut from the bottom of the boat. Inside lay a bracelet made of plaited strips of leather, with flower patterns clumsily burnt into it. 'Tiaan, I love you,' it said.
Tears sprang to Tiaan's eyes as she slipped the bracelet on her left wrist. 'Thank you, little sister. You didn't forget at all. It's still my birthday.'
'I love you, Tiaan. You'll make me better, won't you?'
'I love you too, more than anyone.'
She kissed Haani all over her little face and did not stop until it was clear that she was dead. The club had driven the broken ribs into her lungs.
Tiaan lifted Haani in her arms, surprised at how light she was. Carrying her out, she stopped in front of the first construct, the child's little legs and arms hanging limp.
'She's dead!'
'I offer condolences,' said Vithis. 'An unfortunate accident.'
'She's dead!' Tiaan screamed. 'An eight-year-old girl. There's thousands of you and the greatest army on Santhenar, and you're so frightened you have to kill a child? Curse you, Vithis. The Aachim are not noble. You are the craven of the Three Worlds!'
Vithis swelled with rage. 'No one speaks to the Aachim like that, no matter what they have suffered. You are not worthy to be concubine. The offer is withdrawn.'
'Cowards!' spat Tiaan. 'Oath-breakers! Your word means nothing to you.'
Vithis tossed down another bag. 'Reparation for the child! Move out of the way, if you please.'
'You can't buy a child's life, any more than you can buy me!' She looked up at Minis. He was staring at her. She could still hope.
He put one foot on the floor.
'It's done and can't be undone,' growled Vithis, 'no matter how much we might regret it. Nothing you do can make any difference, foster-son. It's over. Take your place beside me.'