The Tower Broken(45)

‘Perhaps it was meant to be an insult.’

‘I suppose you speak of Arigu’s alleged treachery, so let me offer you some advice.’ Nessaket folded her arms before her. ‘Arigu is far cleverer than you. If he did take these slaves, you will not find them so easily. And if you do find them, he will claim they came here by some other route.’

‘So you think I should not try.’

‘What do you think would happen if you did succeed? Do you think your husband will allow Banreh to live?’

No. I do not think that he will. Mesema blinked back tears. ‘I think he would let the slaves go home.’

‘We shall see about that. He is the emperor, and he does not think as we do.’

A knock came at the door and the two women looked at each other, caution bringing silence. Then Sendhil called out, ‘Grada Knife-Sworn to see you, my Empress.’

She could hear the concern in his voice, but Mesema knew the Knife would not ask politely had she come for royal blood. ‘Let her enter, Sendhil.’ She stood as Grada filled the doorway, her dark eyes moving past Mesema, deeper into the room, seeking the Empire Mother.

‘You should come to the throne room, Your Majesty,’ Grada said, ‘for we believe your son has been found.’





21



Sarmin


The doors swung on their hinges, heavy and slow, and Sarmin wanted to run forwards, to shout, make the men pull harder, faster, because he could not see his brother yet. Light spilled in from the corridor – he had not noticed he was standing in the dark – and he shielded his eyes for a moment. When he lowered his hand he saw a girl, her hair glowing crimson, carrying a bundle wrapped in silks. Her steps were hesitant and she cocked her head as if listening. A soldier took her arm and they walked the rest of the way.

Rushes. He remembered her now, remembered her fright when she gave him the butterfly-stone. He reached into his pocket and touched it with his finger. It had been larger then, before he broke it. And he could still see her through Beyon’s eyes, his favourite child, running after a ball in the throne room. He smiled, for she had come home, and she had brought his brother to him. As she neared her eyes looked ahead, unfocused, blind, and her lips quivered. She was in the presence of the emperor and she could not see him and know that he was truly himself.

‘Be easy, Rushes,’ he said. ‘It is me, Sarmin.’ Not the false emperor the pattern had created.

Her face turned his way. She was orchid-thin and pale as snow, save for her hair, which hung in tangles around her shoulders. ‘My Emperor!’ She took another step and waited, trembling. Inside her arms the baby stirred and he wondered how she could carry him, for he had grown very big, one chubby leg kicking away from its coverings and a broad forehead strewn with dark curls turning his way.

‘I will take my brother now,’ he said, so that she would not be startled by his touch. He lifted her burden and turned his back to the soldiers, taking in the smell of him, sweet like honey. This moment would be private. He lifted the silk from his brother’s eyes, then tore it away further, revealing all of him from his chubby toes to his copper eyes. His heart caught and he ran a hand through the boy’s hair, looking for the stubborn curl he remembered. He did not see it. The boy smelled wrong; his smile as he looked from the silks was wrong. The love that Sarmin had felt for Daveed failed to warm him. He looked at a stranger.

He turned back to Rushes. ‘Did you have the child with you all this time?’

She remembered her obeisance and threw herself upon the floor. When she spoke, silk muffled her voice. ‘The one called Mylo hit me very hard, my Emperor,’ she said, ‘and I did not wake up for days. When I came to myself, I could not see. But they gave Daveed to me then, for they said that he knew me and my presence would make him easy. I never let go of him after that – never, Your Majesty. They kept us in a little room and we never left it.’

Govnan came forwards then and gazed down at the child in Sarmin’s arms, twisting his cane into the floor as he did whenever his thoughts went in a dark direction. ‘We tested his blood, Magnificence, and found it true.’

‘But this is not my brother,’ said Sarmin, and the words took the life from him. He crumpled upon the stairs of the dais, the boy clutched in his arms.

Azeem took a halting step forwards. ‘At this age babies change very quickly, Magnificence. You have not seen him for many months.’

‘What do you know of babies, Azeem?’ he asked, and spitefully, since the man had no wife and further, did not wish for one.

Azeem stepped back and said no more.

‘They want me to embrace this strange child and call him brother.’ Sarmin leaned back upon the stair, speaking more to himself than anyone. ‘Where did they take Daveed, I wonder?’