An affinity for steel, p.92
An Affinity for Steel, page 92
Togu’s eyes shifted to him. ‘Ask away.’
‘A sea chart to find the nearest shipping lanes to the mainland, a boat to take us there, food to make it there and—’
‘Sword.’
‘And …’
‘Sword.’
‘Something …’
‘Need.’
‘Pants,’ Kataria interjected. ‘We want our pants back.’
‘Pants?’ Togu began to mutter, clouds of smoke roiling out of his nostrils. ‘Pants, pants, pants … It’s always pants with humans, isn’t it?’
‘What is it with lizardthings and calling me human? I’m not human!’ She took her ears in her hands, pulling them out for display. ‘Look at these things! They’re huge!’
‘Can you get us that sort of thing or not?’ Lenk asked with a sigh. ‘You can keep whatever it is you found from our wreckage in payment or we can work something out.’
‘What sort of something?’ Togu asked.
‘We can do … things.’
‘Such as?’
‘Kill stuff,’ Kataria said, sniffing, ‘mostly.’
‘We do other things,’ Lenk countered with a glare.
‘Like what?’ she asked, sneering.
‘Things, you know …’ He leaned back, twirling his hand in what he hoped was at least vaguely thoughtful. ‘Such as … well, Denaos, I know, can play the lute. You probably have something like that, right?’
‘Ah, yes, the tall one,’ Togu said, inclining his head approvingly. ‘My people are quite fond of him. Does he have anything to say about your decision to leave?’
‘Nothing worthwhile,’ Kataria replied. ‘The only thing missing by him, or the rest of them, not being here is a bunch of whining and probably some attempt at innuendo or something stupid like that.’ She frowned, shrugging. ‘So can we have the boat or not?’
Before Togu could even open his mouth, Lenk whirled upon her.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Negotiating.’
‘No, you’re just speaking loudly. You don’t understand negotiation.’ He tapped his chest. ‘That’s what I do.’
‘So … don’t this time,’ she replied, regarding him curiously. ‘Is that such a problem?’
‘It isn’t, you know.’
‘You be quiet,’ Lenk snarled.
‘Who be quiet?’ Togu asked.
‘Why even negotiate? Why leave? Everything you need is right here.’
‘Everything we need …’ Lenk whispered to himself.
The words seeped into him on the silence inside his head, sowing his mind with seeds of comfort. In his brain, they began to bloom, a calm logic spreading over him. Why was this important? he wondered. Why go back to the fighting and death on the mainland? What was the point of it all?
Everything he needed was here: sun, water, food, and though she may have been regarding him with a stare that twitched between confusion and worry, she was here, too. He smiled, not knowing why, not caring why.
‘No.’
It came back, a sudden frost that swept over his mind, killed the blooming calm. His skull throbbed with fear, anger, contempt, all swirling about his mind, all carrying the voice through.
‘Cannot leave now.’
‘Cannot leave now,’ he whispered.
‘What?’ Kataria asked.
‘Then,’ Togu muttered, hope rising in his voice, ‘you wish to stay?’
‘Need to stay … need to kill …’
‘Kill,’ he uttered quietly.
‘What was that?’ Togu asked.
‘Lenk …’ she whispered, leaning close.
‘Lies all around us. Surrounded by worthlessness. Need to kill. Need to stay.’
‘Need …’
‘Sword.’
‘Sword.’
‘Sword?’ Kataria asked.
‘Need sword.’
‘Need it,’ he whispered.
‘Need what?’ Togu asked.
‘Sword.’
‘Sword.’
‘Sword!’
‘Not again, Lenk …’
‘SWORD!’
‘WHERE IS IT?’
Togu recoiled, threatening to teeter off his throne as Lenk leapt to his feet and flung an icy stare at him. Lenk could feel his lids narrowing to slits, feel himself freezing despite the sun, but did not care. His head throbbed with need; his hands hungered for leather and steel.
‘Where is it?’ he demanded, not hearing the rasp of his voice. ‘Where is my sword? I need it … I …’ He took a step forward, leg trembling. ‘Need it.’
It was cold at that moment. He could feel his flesh prickle, hairs standing on end, feel the departure of buzzing insects, as though his skin was suddenly unhallowed ground. All of nature seemed to follow their example: the sun averted its warmth, the air was strangled into a crisp chill.
‘No.’
Even he would not have heard himself whimper if he didn’t know he had said the words; his voice was throttled, frozen in his throat. He did not dare to speak louder for fear of what might emerge instead.
He stared into Togu’s ever-widening eyes and knew that such a thing was wrong, not merely because such a feat seemed impossible for the creature’s already tremendous stare. Rather, he was familiar with such an expression, familiar with the fear embedded in a face rendered speechless by a voice not his own.
Familiarity turned to pain the instant he felt her eyes upon him. Clearness gone, softness gone, now hard, scrutinising, studying, watching, peering, probing.
‘Staring.’
‘Stop …’ he whispered so softly only he could hear it.
Or so he thought.
‘Mad.’ Togu may have whispered; the king’s voice was deep enough that such an effort was futile. His head trembled back and forth, as though refusing to acknowledge what he saw. ‘You’re … you …’
‘He’s fine.’
Her hand was warm on his shoulder; that should not be. But it was, and strong, effortlessly pushing him past. Not past, he recognised, but behind. She stepped in front of him; he could not see the hardness in her eyes, but in her body, it was undeniable. She was tense, her spine rigid under her skin, muscles glistening with sweat, feet planting themselves solidly on the ground, neck rigid and eyes staring forward.
‘Just stressed.’
‘But he—’
‘Stressed.’
Her canines flashed ivory white in the sunlight, her lip curling back to bare them menacingly. The meaning behind their sudden appearance, the inarguable fact that there would be no more discussion on the matter, was received by Togu and displayed in the slow and subtle tilt of his head.
‘These times are stressful, yes,’ the king muttered, nodding. ‘It is understandable that … people are on edge.’
‘It is,’ she said with an air of finality. ‘Now, then, about our request?’
‘A boat is no particular problem,’ Togu replied. ‘We had many before and the Gonwa only brought more. But—’
‘But what?’
‘I still dislike to waste one. What can you do with a boat? Sail out and hope for the best?’ He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. ‘Not that we are not so very pleased that you managed to find your way, but … how was it you managed to arrive on Teji again?’
Her body rippled slightly with swallowed ire, Lenk noticed, and undoubtedly Togu did as well. She was not a creature of subtlety. She must have known this as well as he did.
So why did she step in? A resolve, fragile as glass, welled up meekly inside him. I should be the one to do this, the one to … And that resolve threatened to crack as he took a step forward.
‘Well, we wouldn’t be asking if our information was correct in the first place,’ she growled. ‘We were told this was a trading post, not a lizard den.’
Snideness, Lenk thought. Lovely. How long until the threats?
‘Trade implies something that is not me giving you a boat that you may or may not destroy with nothing more than goodwill and a kiss on the cheek, cousin,’ Togu said.
‘No one’s denying that you will get something in return,’ she replied, eyes narrowing, ‘and, in this case, what you are getting is whatever won’t be happening with regards to your cheek.’
That took a bit longer than I’d have thought.
‘Beyond the potential hazards of this trade, both before and after you hypothetically launch your boat,’ Togu said, ‘there is the matter of expenses.’
‘Expenses?’
‘Supplies? Food? Charts? These things we are in no certain supply of.’ He shrugged, taking a long puff of his pipe. ‘A difficult thing to ask.’
‘Ah, of course,’ Kataria said, folding her arms. ‘Forgive me, I should have asked the other king lizard with a house full of garbage.’
‘These,’ the king said, sweeping an arm about his collection, ‘are investments for when the humans return.’
‘So … this was a trading post.’
‘Was, yes,’ Togu said, nodding. ‘Not so long ago, in fact, which would account for your information.’ He eased back as far as he could without tipping over, groaning a smoky sigh. ‘They came from Toha, seeking trading routes. They had not expected to find partners, and we had not expected that we would enjoy their company. But, like all trade, this was driven by necessity.’
‘You seem to have everything you need,’ Kataria said, glancing over the crowding collection, ‘and more.’
‘I have many things, but nothing I need, no. The humans came with food, food we desperately needed. We found you in Teji’s jungles, yes? You saw.’
Lenk furrowed his brow at that. He had seen Teji’s jungles, and even through the fever that had swept over him, he could see things growing: greenery, leaves, wildlife. There looked to be no shortage of food. The moment he began to say this, however, Kataria spoke.
‘It’s a barren forest,’ she said, ‘lots of trees, but no fruit.’
‘No nothing,’ Togu replied. ‘Nothing but roots and tubers. Food for the moment, but not for the people.’ He shrugged. ‘Thus, when the humans came with fruits, meats, wines, grain to make the gohmns larger and more hardy … we traded. From there, we continued to trade. Our needs sated, we could take things we wanted: brandy, tobacco …’
And yet no one thought to trade for pants, Lenk thought sourly.
‘Don’t mistake me for a fool, my people for simpletons,’ Togu said. ‘I was not made leader because they didn’t know any better. I looked out for them, I learned the human language, the human ways.’ His face seemed to melt with the heat of his frown. ‘I learned they move on.
‘And, as I said, I am no fool. I knew you would have to leave, eventually, and I suppose my people did, too.’ He tried to offer a smile, but it was an expression with fragile legs, trembling under the weight that stood upon him. ‘But we wanted you to stay … if only so we could remember those times again.’
Lenk regarded the creature thoughtfully. He tried his hardest not to be suspicious, and indeed, Togu’s story gave him no ready cause to be distrusted. And yet …
Something in the creature’s eyes, perhaps: a little too intent to be reminiscent. Or maybe the long, slow pause that followed: a moment intended to reflect the severity of the memory, or a moment to gauge their reactions? He distrusted the lizard, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t really think why.
‘He’s a liar.’
Oh, right … that’s why.
Lenk wasn’t sure if the voice did have moods, but he suspected that none of them were of the kind to humour him. And so, he felt the cold creep over him with greater vigour, greater ferocity.
‘Surrounded by liars. Everywhere. He lies. They lie. You lie.’
Me, he tried to think through the freezing throb of his head, what do you—?
‘Listen. Listen to nothing else. Only to us. Only to ourselves. Realise.’
No, no more listening. This is supposed to be over. This is supposed to be—
‘THROUGH the lies! Do not be tricked! We cannot afford it! We need to stay! Need to fight! Need our sword! See through them! Do not listen! Do not trust!’
‘Not trust …’ he whispered, finding the words less reprehensible on his lips.
‘Something the matter, cousin?’ Togu asked.
‘What happened to them, King?’ The question sprang to Lenk’s lips easily, instinctually. ‘Where are they?’
‘What?’ Togu’s smile was crushed under his sudden frown. ‘Who?’
‘Lenk …’ Kataria placed a hand on his shoulder, but he could not feel it.
‘The humans,’ he said, ‘where are they now? Where did they go?’
‘They are’ – Togu’s lips trembled, searching for the words – ‘not here. They …’ He swallowed hard, a sudden fear in his eyes. ‘They are …’
‘Shi-i ah-ne-tange, Togu!’
The voice rang out through the hut like a thrown spear, its speaker following shortly through the front door. While it was impossible to slam a leather flap, the Gonwa that emerged, tall and limber with the ridges on his head flaring, certainly gave it his all.
Lenk could only guess at the thing’s gender, of course, and that came only from his booming voice as he shoved his way between the two companions, sparing a glare for both of them. With an arm long and lean like a javelin, he thrust a finger at Togu, using the other hand to pat at a satchel strung about his torso.
‘Ah-ne-ambe, Togu! Sakle-ah man-eh!’
Togu spared an indignant glare for the Gonwa, which quickly shifted to Bagagame as the littler lizardman came scurrying behind, gasping for air.
‘Bagagame!’ the king boomed. ‘Ah-dak-eh mah?’
Bagagame made a reply, his voice going far too rapidly to be discerned. In response, the Gonwa stepped up the tempo of his own voice, his ire flowing freely through his words. Togu tried to dominate them in speed and pitch both, roaring over them as they blended into a whirlwind of green limbs and bass rumbles.
‘Who’s the big one?’ Lenk asked, glancing sidelong at Kataria.
‘How am I supposed to know?’ she growled, fixing him with a very direct scowl. ‘What was that?’
‘What was what?’
‘That. What you just did.’
‘I asked him—’
‘You didn’t ask him anything.’
He strained to keep the shock beneath a stony visage hardened by denial. She couldn’t have heard, she can’t hear that, her ears aren’t that long … are they?
The argument between the lizardmen seemed to end in a thunderous roar as Togu shouted something and thrust a hand to the rear door. The Gonwa swung a scowl from him to the companions before nodding and stalking off to the back, Bagagame following with a nervous glance to Togu. The king himself hopped off of his throne and grunted at the two non-scaly creatures in the room.
‘Forgive the interruption,’ he said as he disappeared into the gloom. ‘This won’t take long.’
‘Huh,’ Lenk said. They were gone, but their voices carried into the hut, only slightly diminished by the walls between them. ‘What, exactly, do you suppose reptiles argue about?’
He turned to her and saw her lunging toward him, hands outstretched. Before he could even think to protest, question, or squeal and piss himself, she took him roughly by his head, pressing her fingers fiercely against his temples and pulling him close. Their foreheads met with a cracking sound, but they were bound by shock and narrow-eyed anger, neither making a move to resist.
‘Stop,’ she said swiftly.
‘What?’
‘Stop.’
‘I don’t—’
‘No, you do. You are. That’s the problem.’
‘I really don’t think—’
‘Then don’t. No more thinking; no more speaking. Don’t listen to anyone else. No one else.’
He felt his temples burn, warm blood weeping down in faint trickles. He saw a bead of sweat peel from her brow, slide over her snarling lip as she bared her teeth at him.
‘Only. Listen. To. Me.’
The warmth from her brow was feverish, intense, as though his skin might melt onto hers and come sloughing off when she pulled away. His whole body felt warm, hot, unbearable yet entrancing, all-consuming. It swept through him like a fire, sliding down his body on his sweat to send his arms aching, shoulders drooping, heart racing, stirring his body as it drifted lower and lower until it boiled his blood away, leaving him light-headed.
And, as such, he could only nod weakly.
‘It’s going to be over, soon.’
She sighed, the heavy breath sending her scent roiling over him, filling his nostrils, one more unbearable sensation heaped upon the other that threatened to send him crashing to the earth. Her grip relaxed slightly, her hands sliding down to rest upon his shoulders.
‘I’m going to take care of everything.’
She stepped away from him, turning her attentions back to the portal as the Gonwa came storming out first. Togu and Bagagame emerged from behind, looking alternately weary and shocked. The taller creature paused in front of the companions, whirling about to level his bulbous, yellow-eyed glower upon them.
‘Togu,’ he uttered softly, ‘Shi-ne-eh ade, netha.’
He raised his hands slowly, deliberately dusting his palms together.
‘Lah.’
And with that, he spun again, the companions having to step aside to avoid his whipping tail as he stalked out the front door. They turned to Togu, each baffled. The king merely sighed.
‘Hongwe,’ he said, gesturing at the vanished Gonwa. ‘Proud boy. His father was, too.’
‘And that was … what?’ Lenk asked.
‘A disagreement,’ Togu replied. He looked up with a weary smile. ‘So … you truly wish to leave, then?’
They both nodded stiffly.
‘Then you and Hongwe agree,’ he said, nodding sagely. ‘And so, I must respect the wishes of my guests and my people. Tomorrow, you depart. Tonight, we offer you a Kampo San-Bah.’
Lenk frowned at the word. It sounded ominous in his ears.
‘And that is?’
‘A party, of course!’ the king said, grinning.
‘Ah.’
Funny, he thought, that the word should get even more menacing with the definition.
