The Tuali laughed. ‘You no longer have the authority to stop me.’
Pelyn pushed her face right into his.
‘Don’t make me embarrass you,’ she said. ‘You are Tuali. Act like it.’
‘Run back to your Ynissul friends,’ he said. ‘You are no more Tuali to me than a dog. Efra.’
The ula spat on her, the saliva spattering over her nose and right eye. Pelyn felt her control give. She smashed a fist in his gut. He doubled over. Pelyn stepped aside and cracked her elbow into the side of his head. He went down, rolling onto his back. Pelyn took a knife from her belt sheath, dropped to her knee and raised her hand to strike into his heart.
A hand grabbed her wrist. A strong hand.
‘No.’ Katyett. ‘Don’t give them what they want.’
Pelyn was aware of silence sweeping out over the chamber. Her mind was clouded and she couldn’t shift the fury.
‘He-’
‘Pelyn. Listen to me.’
Pelyn jerked her arm, but Katyett’s grip merely hardened and all she succeeded in doing was dropping the knife.
‘They want a fight,’ said Pelyn.
‘They want a martyr,’ said Katyett. ‘Please, Pelyn. Not by your hand.’
Pelyn nodded. ‘All right. I’m all right.’
Katyett let go her wrist. Pelyn turned back to the ula. He displayed no fear. Instead a half smile played on his lips.
‘See?’ he said. ‘You are still their slave.’
Pelyn balled her fist and cracked it into the ula’s nose. Knocking him out cold against the stone stage.
‘Get him out of here,’ she said.
She stood up and straightened her clothes. Dozens more Al-Arynaar were entering the chamber from front and rear. Pelyn faced the subdued crowd.
‘The next one of you that calls me efra will be the martyr you so crave. Clear the chamber.’
Katyett put a hand on her shoulder.
‘You and I need to talk. Now.’
Chapter 8
Politicians seek victory to taste further glory. Soldiers seek victory to taste further life. ‘You cannot let them goad you like that,’ said Katyett, the moment the door to the records office was closed behind her and Pelyn.
Outside, the Gardaryn was being forcibly cleared by Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen. The aggression had dissipated, water through a cracked jug, and Katyett had left behind her a sullen cowed mob. No doubt they would find more targets for their frustration outside.
‘You heard what he called me. You saw what he did.’
‘Yes, and you nearly gave him what he was looking for.’
‘He deserved nothing less.’
Pelyn had her back to Katyett. She was wringing her hands and her whole body was shaking. Her rage clung on, giving way slowly to shock. Katyett took a pace and went to reach out. She stopped herself midway.
‘Pelyn, look at me.’ There was a slight turn of the head, nothing more. ‘Pelyn, please.’
Pelyn turned. There were tears on her young face, smearing the dust and dirt that had filled the air of the chamber when the riot began. There was power within her, great charisma too. Yet in this moment she was the frail iad in whom Takaar had seen such potential when he was building the Al-Arynaar to back the Tai-Gethen’s elite skills. Pelyn stared at Katyett with all the old pain in her face.
Katyett’s heart fell.
‘He cannot have known what he was saying,’ she said.
‘He knew exactly what he was saying.’
‘No, I mean, he knew the word he used, sure, but not what… happened to you on Hausolis. No one, almost no one, knows about that.’
Pelyn covered her face with her hands and drew them down to the point of her jaw.
‘Plenty know and enough of them escaped through the gate. You think I’m being naive but you’re as bad. Takaar’s denouncement didn’t just happen today. It’s been happening for a decade. And if you think there aren’t those in Ysundeneth capable of using every bit of information about those… those closest to him, against them, then you need to understand a little more about the nature of the embittered elven mind.’
‘But what Takaar did, he did for you. You know that, don’t you?’
Pelyn’s fury returned and she advanced on Katyett.
‘What I know is that he rejected me three times. In the prime of my fertility he looked in another direction. Rendered me worthless. Unworthy of carrying his child. And even back then, before the Garonin came, people called me efra.
‘And I know that despite what he did to me, despite the humiliation, I still loved him. I still love him today.’
Katyett sighed. ‘He never stopped loving you, either.’
‘Really?’ Pelyn’s tone was bitter-edged. ‘He believed in my ability on the battlefield but that is hardly the same thing.’
‘It was exactly the same thing to Takaar. He saw greatness in you and he brought it to the fore. Showed everyone what you could do.’
‘Out of guilt, I expect.’
‘Don’t be so stupid, Pelyn. You think he rejected you because he didn’t care? Wouldn’t have been proud to father a child with you; a Tuali-Ynissul union? He did it because he could see a better destiny.’
‘What could be better than being the mother of Takaar’s child!’ Pelyn cried. ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Katyett? Do you really? I know why he rejected me. It had nothing to do with my skills as a general. Having a baby wouldn’t change that, would it? It’s because he had eyes elsewhere. Didn’t he? Didn’t he!’
Pelyn’s hand came round, open-palmed. Katyett caught her wrist and held it like she held Pelyn’s gaze.
‘Yes, he did. And you know what happened? Nothing. I bore him nothing. My love for him was as desperate as yours. Yniss knows it still is and ever will be. But I could not give him what he wanted. All that time I was away from the TaiGethen, when people suspected I was pregnant, I was hiding my shame, trying every method, herbal and mystic, to make myself more fertile. And I failed. I failed, Pelyn, and he and I both know he should have chosen you.’
Pelyn had relaxed completely and Katyett let go her wrist. Pelyn rubbed it and then took Katyett’s hand.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I had no idea.’
‘I wish I was termed efra,’ said Katyett, believing it too. ‘At least that way I could hold my head up and say I might have been the mother.’
‘You don’t wish that. Trust me.’
Both iads smiled. They embraced.
‘Takaar has no heir,’ said Katyett, breaking away but not letting go.
Pelyn bit her lip. ‘And you. Will you enter fertility again?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Katyett. ‘But I have to live through all this first. And find Takaar and persuade him he needs a child. Yniss preserve us, he’s probably dead.’
‘Despite all that he has caused, to have no child would be terrible,’ said Pelyn.
‘There are precious few out there who would agree with you. How old are you?’
‘Three hundred and seven,’ said Pelyn.
‘Still fertile?’
Pelyn shrugged. ‘Yes, but my prime has passed by twenty years. And I only get one season, long though it feels sometimes.’
Katyett nodded. ‘We really could do without this war, if it comes to it.’
‘I hear you. We’d be right back to the days of pressure to conceive.’
‘Funny isn’t it that Takaar effectively gave the iads choice of partner and then demonstrated how easy it is to get it wrong.’
‘Oh, Katyett, he didn’t get it wrong. Wanting you to mother his child was the least surprising decision he ever made.’
Katyett burst into tears and hugged Pelyn close.
‘Yours is the most generous of souls,’ she whispered.
‘And yours the strongest,’ said Pelyn. ‘We cannot fall back into war.’
‘Then let’s stop pining after lost love for a moment and go and sort the rabble out.’
Pelyn laughed and pulled away.
‘Thank you, Katyett,’ she said. ‘I nearly lost myself.’
‘Want to know another truth? Anyone else calls you efra and you’ll need to beat me to the killing blow.’
‘I’ll take the challenge.’
The door to the office opened.
‘Katyett. Trouble at the temple piazza,’ said Grafyrre.
Katyett sighed. ‘Looks like it might be a long old day. Come on.’ It was a heartbreaking run through the city. So much bile, stored up for so long. Katyett had been spat at by people she knew. People she might have called friend. Today, as if some delicate strand had been torn to shreds, she was Ynissul, they were anything else but. Damned because they were loyal to an ula who had failed after saving so many of their brothers and sisters.