Chapter 11: Mistress Mala

“There, now,” said Joganda, the head guard for the night watch, as he gently eased the arrowhead out of Mala’s shoulder. He’d placed a wadded piece of gauze immediately underneath my friend’s injury and pushed it on the open wound to stanch the blood that had begun pooling to the surface.

 I’d already managed my own injury while Joganda treated Mala.

 He looked to me. “Syndeeka, can you come over here and continue applying pressure? And you can start rubbing this salve around the area of the wound. Meanwhile, I’ll dispose of this little memento of tonight’s adventure and get some more gauze for Mistress Mala, here.”

 I let his rhesus monkey, Lepa, spring from my lap and gently stepped (one foot booted and the other bandaged) over to the wooden table on which poor Mala was sprawled.

 Mala had a rag in her mouth, which she’d used to bite into when Mapolis removed the crossbow bolt, and tears were spilling down her sweaty face.

 “Don’t worry, Mala,” I said. “We’ll get through this.”

 I joined Joganda at his side of the table and placed my hand on the gauze.

 Joganda smiled warmly at me as I took his place. He handed me a clay bowl containing the ointment and then crossed the cramped wooden guardhouse to kneel down at the box where he kept the medical kit. He soon came back with a bolt of gauze that he quickly began unwinding.

 The old man’s blue-gray eyes regarded me from underneath his iron helmet. “You’ve done this before, Syndeeka?”

 “Yes,” I replied, applying pressure to Mala’s wound with one hand and working the salve around the wadded gauze with the other. “When the city-state I hail from had a revolution and the ruling warlord was deposed, I had gone outside the city limits to try and prevent his son, Govewda, from sending his soldiers in and killing everybody. I failed, unfortunately, and got a bleeding arrow wound in the leg for my troubles.”

 Joganda came to my side. “Oh,” he sighed. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Did you stanch the wound yourself?”

 I stepped away from Mala as the guard lay the strip of gauze over her back and then made her sit up to continue wrapping the bandage around her torso. She was topless, but our previous profession removed any bashfulness on her part.

 “Yes,” I continued, letting Lepa hop back into my arms and stroking his fur. “I had no choice. Fortunately, Ushe warriors wrap their legs in gauze so I had plenty to work with. I then limped my way to the docks at the river and soon a ship pulled up. I had to turn the merchants away, explaining the massacre, but there was an ijoko among them-- that’s our word for a medicine man. He saw the stained bandage on my leg and generously offered his services at no cost to me. I’d hate to think what would have become of my leg if he hadn’t come along when he did.”

 “That’s quite a story,” said Mala, the rag now in her hand. “We’ve both been lucky, haven’t we?”

 “That you have,” said Joganda, securing several copper pins in the bandage over Mala’s back to hold it in place. 

 He patted Mala’s other shoulder. “There now,” he continued, “you should be good, my dear. But you’re going to need some serious rest for the next week or so.”

 The old gray guard looked to me. “Syndeeka, I’m going to check with Alpotano. Normally, I wouldn’t have sent him out alone like this (not with all that’s transpired this evening) but I had to treat Mala here.”

 “Before you go,” I said, “may I ask why you never bothered to tell me that the campus guard already knew we were working for the Emperor to locate the Sepulchral Giant?”

 Joganda’s lined face beamed and he chuckled. “It wouldn’t have helped you two’s anonymity if you knew that we knew. Plus, I always liked the silly excuses you would make for entering and leaving the campus in the after hours.”

 He’d helped Mala in her time of need, so I didn’t see the point in saying anything snide to him.

 He looked back to me. “That was quite a commotion when the Celestial Lord and Lady fell from their perch. Alpotano thought we’d had an earthquake. I just kept thinking it must be some bad omen from the gods. Hope I was wrong.”

 He exited through the guardhouse door and I looked to Mala.

 “Thank you, Syndeeka. For everything. You saved my life.”

 I sat back on my stool and let air hiss through clenched teeth. “Mala, were you really determined to block my way up the rope so that I couldn’t escape the Giant’s minions if I didn’t give them the pipe?”

 She pushed herself back off the table’s edge  to a more comfortable position on its planks. “Syndeeka, I don’t know. I was upset.”

 I gently stroked the fur on Lepa’s tail and he squeaked. 

 “Do you know why they fired at us?”

 Mala turned her gaze to the floorboards. “I can’t say. Maybe they wanted to silence us before we could tell anyone about them. I shouldn’t have trusted them. I’m sorry.”

 “Excuse me, Lepa, but I’m going to have to let you go,” I said, gently placing the monkey on the floor. As the little beast scurried across the room to join Mala I reached my hands into the bag next to my stool.

 “What are you getting?”

 I smiled. “You’ll see.”

 I fished the pronged pipe out and held it up to Mala.

 “No!” said Mala. “That’s why they shot at us? You could have gotten us killed!”

 “No, Mala. You could have gotten us killed by detaining our escape. I bought us more time.”

 Mala scratched between Lepa’s ears. “What is it you threw to the Giant’s people?”

 Resting the pipe in my lap, I cradled my face in one hand and sighed. “Something that wasn’t mine to give. Tulonon’s spyglass.”

 Mala’s eyes widened and she hugged the monkey to her chest. “You told me that device was one of the greatest inventions you’d ever seen. Why would you throw it away?”

 “And the trust between us, Mala? Why would you throw that away?”

 Mala made a coughing sound and looked at the floor. “I wouldn’t, Syndeeka. Not if I could help it.”

 She took in a deep breath and regarded me with watering eyes.

 “There’s so much at stake, though,” she continued, opening her hands and letting Lepa run from her lap. “We’ve been on the wrong side of this conflict. You’ve seen how cruel, how evil the Emperor can be. Him and his cousin. They’re hardly human; monsters shaped like men.”

 I looked up at the glowing brazier hanging from chains attached to the rafters, took in a deep, long lungful of air and let it hiss out my lips. 

 “I don’t deny that. But we also don’t know what the Giant is planning.  I hardly trust him to do the right thing. And I fear that if he succeeds in destroying the seat of the Empire, hundreds of thousands of people will suffer from the ensuing strife. This could be like what happened in Aki Gbijeme, but on a much, much greater scale.”

 I ran my hand over my eyes and then pulled it down to my chin.

 “And,” I added, “I have enough innocent blood staining my conscience.”

 Mala placed her face in her palm. “Must we have this conversation right now? I feel so tired. I’m light-headed, dizzy…”

 “Yes. Of course.” 

 I picked up my boot and tried to ease my bandaged foot into it.

 “You understand, don’t you, Syndeeka?”

 “I do.” I pulled the boot up past my ankle and over my calf. “There have been plenty of times I’ve lost a lot of blood. It’s best that you get some rest.”

 I stood and limped to a small table in a corner of the guardhouse, picked up a clay picture and a wooden cup, and poured some water.

 “Here,” I said, handing the cup to Mala. “You should drink as many fluids as you can. And I don’t mean alcohol.”

 Mala took the cup and placed it to her lips.

 “Let me step out for some air. You can get some rest, Mala.”

 As I hobbled out of the exit Mala said, “Thank you, Syndeeka. I don’t deserve your friendship.”

 I held my tongue.

 My sweaty skin chilled in the night air. I looked up at the quiet stars, so far from my eyes and so close to my spirit, and wished I could fly away into them. 

 Lose myself in the myriad constellations. And the void.

 “You substituted for me yesterday, Syndeeka,” said Tulonan from behind his office desk, “so I don’t see why you can’t take today off. May I ask what you were doing last night? You were using the spyglass weren’t you?” He smiled. “I understand. It doesn’t lose its magic, does it?”

 I sat down on the stool before him and placed my face in my hands. “I’m afraid I need to talk to you about that, sir.”

 Tulonan stroked his beard. “Why?”

 I dropped my hands into my lap and sighed. “Firstly, I think I should come clean with you. Remember when we first met and you asked me why I had an Imperial palace stylus?”

 Tulonan sat back in his chair, frowning. “What has that got to do with my spyglass?”

 I glanced out the window at the courtyard where students milled about the massive iron corpses of Lord Nisentaqua and Lady Surimasey.

 “You see that?” I pointed to the prone automatons lying on their backs.

 He chuckled nervously.

 “You can’t be saying that you’re responsible for the strange accident last night, are you?”

 I looked him in the face. “Yes. Yes, I caused that.”

 “You work for the Deity Imperator? Is that what you mean? What exactly is all this?”

 “I’m an Imperial agent. Well, temporarily. It’s an assignment I’ve come to deeply regret.”

 Tulonon stared at his desk and then back at me. “That’s why you wanted to know about the Sepulchral Giant.”

 “Yes. I was sent by the Emperor to find this mysterious man and then kill him.”

 Tulonan’s eyes widened and his face went slack. “You’re an Imperial assassin?”

 I cleared my throat. “Uh, no. I’m a sell-sword. A mercenary.”

 “But I thought you were trained as an astronomer.”

 “I am. I was the apprentice of the court astronomer Keeshofa at the palace of the barbarian warlord Betahz. But there was an uprising and everyone was killed. I had to find other means of supporting myself.”

 Tulonan touched my shoulder. “What about the spyglass?”

 I propped up my forehead with two fingers and grimaced.

 “I’m sorry, Tulonan, but the Giant’s people have it now.”

 “What!”

 “I’ll pay to get a new one made. In the meantime--” I took my sheathed blade out of my bag-- “you can have this.”

 “What would I want with a sword? It’s just an instrument of death. My optical device is so much more valuable. It’s something that could transform the entire world.”

 I placed the weapon on Tulonan’s desk. “I don’t disagree with you at all. But trust me when I tell you that your spyglass was not sacrificed in vain. I’m trying to prevent complete chaos from overtaking the Imperium.”

 Tulonan stood. “How? By giving a scientific instrument to a madman?”

 I took a long, deep breath, pulled the pipe out of my bag, and handed it to Tulonan.

 “By not letting him get his paws on this.”

 Tulonan turned the metal pipe over in his hands, feeling the prongs at its end. “What is this?”

 I turned my head back to the inert automatons beyond the window.

 “You know of the man responsible for our piece of religious art out there, don’t you?”

 “Suhodaten.” He handed the pipe back to me and I returned it to the bag. “That metal bar has something to do with the two gods lying on their backs?”

 “It’s kind of a key. Last night, I went down into the tomb below the serpent with a friend… (well, an associate) and we accidentally caused what you see in the courtyard.”

 Tulonan returned to his desk and touched the sword handle.

 “You can pull it out if you want. Just be careful; I don’t want you cutting yourself on the blade.”

 Tulonan gave me a sour look. “Young lady, I’m hardly an idiot.”

 I let out a gentle laugh. “No, but you’re also not a warrior.”

 Tulonan slowly pulled the steel blade from its sheath and then turned to face the window. He squinted in the sunlight and appraised the weapon.

 “No,” he said. “You are right about my not being a warrior. I’m generally a man of peace-- even if my salty words sometimes belie that.”

 I felt like chuckling and asking: “Sometimes?” But I’d already lost his precious scientific device and didn’t wish to court his anger.

 “My son would probably know more about one of these than I do.”

 “He’s a soldier?”

 I limped up beside Tulonan.

 “No. He’s a sailor. In the Imperial Navy. The metal almost seems to have a reddish cast to it.” He looked to me. “I thought this was steel.”

 “It is,” I replied as he slid the blade back into its sheath. “I oil my sword as much as I can. Otherwise, all the blood that gets on it would seep into the blade’s pores and cause it to rust.” I sighed. “But I’ve shed too much blood. The violence of the last decade has permanently stained it, I’m afraid.”

 Tulonan placed the sheathed sword on his desk and looked me in the face. “Why do you do this? Surely someone would benefit from the knowledge you possess.”

 I returned to my seat in front of his desk. “Believe me, I would gladly be an astronomer full-time if I could. May I ask you why your son didn’t follow your path?”

 Tulonan stepped to the window and stared out at the courtyard. “When he was a boy, I made the mistake of telling him sailors could navigate their ships at night by following the north star.”

 He took a deep breath.

 “I guess,” he continued, “he wanted to see if that was true.”

 “I imagine if he’s always going out to sea, you two don’t get much time to talk.”

 “He hasn’t spoken to me since my wife died.” Tulonan sighed. “Things were already strained between us (I’d always been angry with him for discarding all that I’d taught him so that he could pursue his calling) but her dying tore us apart. He told me that I should have dropped all my work here at the academy, instead of having nursemaids tend to her.”

“Oh. I am sorry.”

 Tulonan turned to me. “There really wasn’t much I could do to save my wife. The physicians assured me they knew of no cure for her ailment, that only the intervention of the gods would delay her trip to the world beyond.”
 
 I stood and joined him at the window, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do to help mend things between you and your son.”

 “Have you ever lost anyone? Well, you mentioned your mentor…”

 I let go his shoulder and folded my hands behind my back. I stared through the window panes at the coiled serpent.

 “Yes… Master Keeshofa. You never met him by any chance, did you?”

 Tulonan tugged at his beard thoughtfully. “The name does sound familiar. But, no, I don’t believe I ever met the man.”

 “Pity.”

 Students were trying to climb up the arms and legs of the downed gods in the quadrangle.

 “I lost my mother too,” I finally added.

 “Oh. Well, I am sad to hear that. I’m sure my boy would have something he could discuss with you if your paths ever crossed, then.”

 “I was just a child when she died.” I took in a deep, long breath, then slowly let it rasp through my teeth. “I was forced to grow up pretty fast soon after.”

 Tulonan turned to me, his eyes watering. “Syndeeka, in spite of my hurt feelings I think I can bring myself to forgive you. About the spyglass, that is.”

 “Oh, I promise I’ll pay for a new one.”

 “I doubt I’d have any use for your sword, though.”

“Keep it. For now. It’s collateral.”

“Well, if you insist, young lady. I’ll just need to tuck it away somewhere here where no one will see it.” He smiled meekly. “I wouldn’t want to have to explain why I have a weapon.”

 I returned his smile. “It’s gracious of you to forgive me my actions, Tulonan. I feel there’s someone I should probably forgive, too.”
 

 I was planning on taking the water shuttle back to the city (I’d left my skiff in Tulonan’s office) so I could try to catch up on my sleep like Mala was doing, but then I made the mistake of crossing the quadrangle to reach the aqueduct. As I cut through the milling students I noticed Bardrakeu standing in front of the Celestial Lord and addressing the crowd. His hair was a mess, he was unshaven, and his red robes looked like they'd been slept in. By his side was his large friend Garsa, who would occasionally grab hold of any young man foolish enough to try climbing up on the downed god before tossing the poor sod across the flagstones. 

“We cannot make light of this!” said Bardrakeu, his arms raised up above his head. “You think this is all just some novelty and that you can blaspheme against the Siblings? Someone is responsible for their current state, someone with no regard for our beliefs or our values. Those of you foolish enough to follow the Sepulchral Giant should hang your heads in shame. Because of his people, my beloved manservant, Nebiat, a man I loved like a father, is dead! Tortured and killed with such a soulless, monstrous brutality. And why? Because my real father is a senator who wants a peaceful return to Republic? Shall good men be cut down in the name of bloody civil war? Where does it end? How many families’ blood shall they spill in the streets of Equoci cities? You may not realize it, but the catacombs below our feet are now flooded. 

 “I tell you, they are trying to destroy everything we hold dear in our society. This is not the golden dream of Republic. This is the very annihilation of the Equoci people. The Sepulchral Giant’s end goal is the destruction of our very civilization.”

 “Syndeeka!”

 I looked from Bardrakeu and saw Eshendisa approaching me through the crowd.

“Eshendisa, so good to see you,” I replied.

 She turned sad eyes to the flagstones. “It’s not so good as you think.”

 “I know people are afraid to trespass in the places of the dead,” Bardrakeu continued, “but I need volunteers to go with me down into the catacombs to root out this insidious Giant and all of his blind fanatics.”

 “What’s wrong?” I asked.

 “The Emperor has done nothing in the wake of this unprecedented attack,” said Bardrakeu, “but we the people can take up arms and destroy these savages! We must strike now. We must kill every last one of these anarchists.”

 “Eshendisa, do you want us to go somewhere quiet so we can talk?”

 Eshendisa raised her eyes up and looked at me. “Yes. Aldro has gone too far now.”

 “Who’s with me?” cried Bardrakeu.

 At least half the crowd of students raised their fists in the air and yelled in the affirmative.

 “Why? What has he done?”

 She closed her eyes.

 “He must have talked to his father, I suppose. I’ve been fired from my job.”

 “What?”

 “Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all!” chanted the crowd.

 “I ended things with him yesterday afternoon. I guess he’s trying to punish me. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to your advice.”

 The students continued their chant as Bardrakeu pumped his fist skyward.

 By all the nameless gods, I thought, what have I done?