Shanji. Part 26

"Yes. You are my people. I will fight shoulder to shoulder with the Moshuguang to defend you, and if I survive I will defend the city as well, without your help. Mandughai expects nothing less of me. I'm committed to Her will."

There was a long silence until Goldani said, "It seems there are no more questions for now. The council will meet in my ger this evening for further discussion, and now, since the water in our kettle seems nicely hot, I suggest we have tea, and some informal talk with our guests."

Goldani herself served the tea in small ceramic cups. The women remained on their benches, whispering to each other as they sipped, Kati and Mengmoshu sitting alone across from them. The minds of the women were now tightly masked. Goldani talked among them for several minutes, and several of them stood up, looking nervously over at Kati, eyes red.

You did well, but I heard that business again about you fighting with the troops.

I meant it. I've been trained, and I will fight.

We will talk about that later.

Goldani was coming towards them, two women straggling behind her. She stopped, leaned over, and said, "They're impressed by your powers, but what you ask is difficult after thousands of years of animosity between Hansui and Tumatsin. I'll do my best to persuade them, but surely you can see their lack of belief in what you've told them."

Kati sighed, but smiled as the two other women came up to her. Both were Goldani's age. There were no introductions.

"We remember your mother," said one. "She's buried near here, and your brother will take you there if you wish. Despite what you've heard from us, we're happy to see that Toregene's daughter is still alive. But you've surprised us in many ways."

She would visit Ma's grave. Kati felt an ache in her throat. "I understand," she said. "Thank you."

"We cannot decide everything while you're here," said the other woman. "We must also speak to the men, and they will have their own opinions."

"Of course," said Kati. "I hope for continued communication between us, regardless of your decisions."

"Festival will be held this time next year," said the woman. "As a Tumatsin, you are welcome there."

She lowered her eyes, and walked away to join the other women filing out of the room. The redness of

suspicion and anger was in many eyes.

Goldani smiled. "It's another opportunity, especially with the men. We're finished for the moment. Wait here, and I'll bring Baber to you."

Then she and Mengmoshu were alone again, and Kati's heart was pounding. "What will he think of me?"

she asked.

"He's your brother," he said.

"We've been raised in different worlds. And why isn't Da coming with him? Doesn't he want to see me?"

"I don't know, Kati. You'll find out soon enough. Your little display here seemed so easy, no natural for you. I'm wondering just how far First Mother has pushed the limits of your abilities."

"I'm too excited to think about that now, Mengmoshu. It's been twelve years since I've seen them!"

"I know. Do you wish to be alone with them?"

"No! Stay with me! I want them to meet you!" Kati grabbed his arm with both hands, and he smiled.

Suddenly, Goldani was at the doorway. "Kati? There's someone here to see you. May we come in?"

"Yes!" Kati squeezed Mengmoshu's arm, a s.h.i.+ver running through her.

Goldani held the doorflap aside, and a young man ducked his head to enter the room. He was tall and square-shouldered, wearing riding leathers, hair tied into a tail reaching below the nape of his neck. He came at Goldani's side to stand before Kati, a frown on his face, hands clenched at his sides.

Kati looked into brown eyes set in a square, chiseled face, and the sight brought tears to her eyes.

"Baber," she said softly. "You look just like Da. Do you recognize me after such a long time?"Baber swallowed hard, and pointed to her necklaces. "I remember those.""From Festival, when I got Sushua, and you rode back with Da on Kaidu. You were so proud!""Kati? We-we thought you were dead, and buried, or burned up. Father looked everywhere, and-""I'm here, and alive! Oh, Baber!" Kati grabbed him in a fierce hug, her face against his chest, for he was even taller than she. "I've missed you so much, and Da, too. Please take me to him! We have two days to

talk about what has happened to us, and I don't want to waste a minute of it!"

Baber's hands rested lightly on her back, and his mind was a blank to her. "It's not far. Will the Searcher come with us?"

"Yes. This is Mengmoshu. He's been my teacher for many years." Like a father to me, in many ways.Baber nodded to Mengmoshu. "Follow me, then."They left the building, and walked south away from the concentric circles of the ordu, past the stares of women and children, and out onto a sandy plain ending at shear cliffs dropping to the sea. Kati looked around, and saw no gerts beyond the ordu. "You said it was near?" she asked.

"A little way further," said Baber.

Something was wrong. There were no dwellings out here, not even a horse or a goat, only sand and wind and the pounding of the sea below them.

They came to a wide shelf jutting out from the cliff face, and someone had built a commemorative cairn of stones there, a small altar placed on a rectangular bed of pebbles. Baber went to it, took a green stone from his pocket, and placed it on the altar. He took out another green stone, and handed it to Kati.

"Ma is buried here," he said solemnly. "Some of the survivors of the Emperor's attack risked their lives to go back for her and bring her here."

Sea air beating at her face did not dry the tears that came. Kati choked back a sob, fingered the stone, then placed it on the altar beside Baber's offering. "It's a beautiful place," she said. "You can see to the horizon. Ma would have loved the view."

"Yes. I remember her wanting to see the ocean up close," said Baber.

Kati knelt on the bed of colorful pebbles around the altar, Baber and Mengmoshu standing behind her. Her sadness was tempered by the memory of her mother's face. She shared it mentally again with Mengmoshu, then ran the palm of her hand over the smooth stones.

"This place has been kept neatly. Does Da come here often to see her?"

Baber made a choking sound, and then his mind was open to her, and she knew the horrible truth before his words came.

"He's there with her, Kati, and Kaidu is buried beneath where I stand."

Oh, Kati, I'm sorry. We didn't know.

She was stunned for a moment, kneeling there with her hands at her side. She wanted to disbelieve, but couldn't, for she saw the truth in Baber's mind. She'd waited twelve years for this day, a day of joyful reunion, and suddenly all those dreams were shattered. Her breath seemed to have left her, and she gasped.

"When? How did it happen?" The horror of loss made a knot in her stomach, tendrils reaching upwards towards her chest, and into the heart.

"Only two months after Ma was killed; it was before the fences went up. When they brought Ma back, he went a little crazy. You hadn't been found. n.o.body saw them take you away, and they set fire to everything. When he went back to the ordu there were only piles of ashes. I remember him saying how clever you were, that you'd probably escaped and were hiding somewhere. He spent weeks searching for you, with Kuchlug, but it was very dangerous. The flyers were everywhere, and there were patrols all over the plateau. Then, one morning, he went out alone, and didn't come back. After a day, Kuchlug and three men went looking for him. They found him high on the slopes of Three Peaks. His neck was broken, and he was dead. Kaidu's legs were broken, and Kuchlug ended his misery. We buried them together."

"He knew my place on the summit of Three Peaks," said Kati. "If I'd escaped, I would have gone there. Oh, Da!" The horror had reached her throat. She bent over, forehead touching the pebbles, and her body shook.

"It was bad for me, Kati. I'd lost everyone, including you. Manlee took me in for a few years, but then she got sick. Goldani has raised me since I was nine. She's been good to me."

Kati wept without restraint, and Mengmoshu joined her without words.

Don't let me go. Let me feel it with you, Kati. You're not alone. Not now. I never guessed your dreams would end this way. I should have checked things out and prepared you for it. I'm sorry.

Baber's hand was on her shoulder, and he was kneeling beside her. "I thought I'd lost everyone, but I hadn't. My sister is still alive, Kati. We still have each other."

Kati embraced him, clinging hard, and sobbing into his shoulder. She looked up at Mengmoshu, and he was standing there with glistening eyes. She had felt his grief for her, but suddenly his mind was as dark as a cave. She wiped her eyes with a hand, and stood up with her brother. They looked at the grave in silence for a moment, arms around each other's waists, then walked back to the ordu, Mengmoshu following them.

She made no effort to hide her tears from the Tumatsin, for they had already known what she now knew, and they watched her sorrowfully as she pa.s.sed by them, clinging to her brother. They went directly to the log building and Mengmoshu left them there alone to talk. They sat by the hearth in gloom, and Kati told Baber every detail of what had happened to her during their separation, all the things she'd seen and learned and the tasks that Mandughai had called upon her to do.

Baber shared his simple but mostly happy life as the orphaned child of an honored woman. Manlee had been like a grandmother, and then Goldani, childless, a husband drowned in a storm at sea. He was learning the life of a fisherman, working the nets on the outrigger boats and cultivating the sh.e.l.lfish in the shallows. Riding was not so important here, but he had a horse named Shuel, presented to him by the ordu at Festival when he was twelve. There was a girl named Chilan who'd captured his affections. Kati asked if he'd kissed her, and he said yes, and she laughed. His guard was down, and she'd seen that they did more than kiss.

It was late when Mengmoshu returned, followed by two women with food for them. They ate together, then Baber excused himself, for he arose early to work the nets three days a week.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. Will you be here?" he asked anxiously.

"One more night, then we must leave," said Kati. "We can talk more tomorrow night."

Baber smiled, and left the room. Mengmoshu looked at her, concerned.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. He's had a good life. At least I still have my brother. I wanted so much to see Da again, to let him know what's happened to me."

"I know," said Mengmoshu softly.

A thought brought tears to her eyes again. "He always called me his little Empress. Isn't that funny?"

"No," said Mengmoshu. Suddenly, he sat down beside her at the hearth, and put an arm around her. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried again, and his hand stroked her hair. "He would be proud of you, Kati. Any father would be proud of you," he murmured.

Mengmoshu was struggling for control of his mind, holding back something from her. She'd felt it many times before, and now it was there again, very close. She looked up at his face: mouth set grimly, silent tears on his cheeks, staring at the hearth.

"Mengmoshu, is there something you want to tell me? I feel a terrible struggle within you."

Mengmoshu stroked her hair, and held her close.

"I'm proud of you like a father," he said.

Kati nuzzled his shoulder. "There's more. You're hiding things again. I don't hide things from you,

Mengmoshu. Tell me."

"I need to think some more. Aren't you ready to sleep?"

"I think so."

"Some men want to meet with you tomorrow. Talk about today's meeting has spread fast, and these men

are in charge of a kind of home guard. They have no religious feelings to deal with; they'll ask practical questions about the size of our forces and our commitment to Tumatsin defense. Goldani has allowed the meeting. I think she supports us."

"When?"

"Late morning. Now get some rest."

Their bedding had been brought in with the food: straw mattresses bound in softened hides, pillows, and

wool blankets. They slept in their clothing, Kati's eyelids already fluttering as her head hit the pillow. As she drifted towards sleep, she saw Mengmoshu's eyes glittering near her, still watching, as if he were ready to say something.

She slept without dreaming.

The morning meeting went quickly, and it seemed the men had mainly wanted to see her face-to-face. Mengmoshu coached her without words as she answered their questions, and it was quickly apparent the men had little belief in Mandughai or Her coming. Yes, the Moshuguang could provide an elite fighting force of two thousand within a day's notice, but only a few flyers were available to them. They had no idea of the size of Mandughai's forces, or their strategy for invasion. Kati's commitment to Tumatsin defense did not depend on their commitment to help defend the city, but Mandughai required it if an extensive war was to be won. Once Hansui and Tumatsin were united against Her, Mandughai had promised to cease Her attack, and bring Kati to the throne. If Her daughter will allow it, thought Kati, bothered by the partial truth of her words.

At one point, a man asked for a demonstration of her powers. Kati stood in the center of the room, an arm stretched out from her side, palm up, and suddenly a ball of sizzling blue plasma was floating above her hand. She asked the man to flip his dagger at it, and he did so. There was a faint popping sound and the blade was gone; the hilt dropped to the floor, blade ionized.

The men stared, and were frightened by her, but still they did not believe in Mandughai, or in Her coming. Now they believed in Kati, seeing her as a possible threat, and she saw it all in their minds.

Mandughai had been correct. The people would not see the truth until it happened to them.

In the afternoon, she returned alone to the gravesite of her parents, and sat there for two hours to watch the sea. The water was dotted near and far with semicircles of small boats with outriggers to work the nets taking life from sea to Tumatsin gerts. She imagined herself with Baber on one of the boats, pulling on those nets full of struggling fish, the salty wind in her face. Their life was good here, and simple. It was no wonder they protected their isolation from a people who at one time had thrown them away because of an ethnic impurity.

Goldani served them an early meal as the men were returning from the sea. Her news was mostly bad.

"They are convinced there is a threat against us, but think it might come from you. They fear your power. Some believe it comes from Mandughai, but others feel you're in rebellion against Her and seek to establish your own rule against Her will. Out of fear they're motivated to strengthen our home guard, and intensify training, but they will make no commitment of any kind to you. Not now. They do ask that I stay in communication with you. They allow the possibility of future discussions."