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Chapters (102)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. DRAMATIS PERSONAE
  6. BOOKI
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. BOOKII
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. 6
  36. 7
  37. 8
  38. 9
  39. 10
  40. 11
  41. 12
  42. 13
  43. 14
  44. 15
  45. 16
  46. 17
  47. 18
  48. 19
  49. BOOKIII
  50. 1
  51. 2
  52. 3
  53. 4
  54. 5
  55. 6
  56. 7
  57. 8
  58. 9
  59. 10
  60. 11
  61. 12
  62. 13
  63. 14
  64. 15
  65. 16
  66. 17
  67. BOOKIV
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. 3
  71. 4
  72. 5
  73. 6
  74. 7
  75. 8
  76. 9
  77. 10
  78. 11
  79. BOOKV
  80. 1
  81. 2
  82. 3
  83. 4
  84. 5
  85. 6
  86. 7
  87. 8
  88. 9
  89. 10
  90. 11
  91. 12
  92. 13
  93. 14
  94. 15
  95. 16
  96. 17
  97. 18
  98. Glossary
  99. Acknowledgments
  100. Also by Andrea Hairston
  101. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  102. Newsletter Sign-up

The captain sputtered like a lover right before release. Yari motioned at Bal to play drum and rattles. Vie gripped several fire arrows and juggled, a trick learned from Kyrie, the witch woman of Mount Eidhou. Yari threw fire arrows at the feet of warriors who looked ready to crack. They blubbered tales of pirates and acid bombs laying waste to their city. Each warrior added a new horror, a secret defeat. An exiled master used his conjure to make Pezarrat unstoppable. Yari listened, hungry for details. The pirates stole books and holy relics. Only half of Kaharta survived and none of the grain stores. What the pirates didn’t take, they burned.

“Rebuild what was lost. Give your children no reason to cry over your bodies. Make a new home around the gorge away from pirates. With a watch in the canyons, raiding parties are easily defeated. Try trade instead of plunder, a new life.”

“Change is hard.” The captain drew his sword, gripped Yari’s arm, and pulled vie close enough to taste breath. “Why should I trust you?”

“I leave you your lives,” Yari said, tender almost. Vie brushed dust from the man’s beard. “I begin with trust.”

“You’re a crazy fool, but”—the captain raised his sword high—“I salute you. To life.”

After a moment, the barbarians cheered with him.

“You’re brave men. I’ll tell your stories.” Yari leaned into the captain. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.” Vie disappeared into shade and mist, a voice on the wind. “Be good to the goats and they’ll honor you.”

The fire arrows made a circle of soot in the dry streambed. The sun lit up the sky. The captain bent down to the bags of bunchgrass seeds on the goats. His troupe gathered around him. A few men glared up at the ledges. “Desperation forced us out on a clown’s crusade.” The captain held up a fist of grain. “Northlanders make a nut loaf and sour bread with this. They call it lovegrass.”

3

A Different Story

The shadow warriors disappeared in the bright sunlight. Awa was glad to be hiding in dense laurel bushes. “Yari’s charm worked.” She gestured to Bal and released clenched muscles.

“Barbarians aren’t stupid. They fear our blades, our numbers,” Jod said, loud and bold. “I would too.” He looked disappointed as the Kahartans withdrew in high spirits. “They deserve the death they offered others, not clown songs and gifts of grain.”

“Do they?” Bal climbed down to a ledge, fading in and out of view.

“Showing off shadow warrior skill doesn’t impress me.” Jod sounded impressed.

Awa was thrilled to see what Yari’s diplomat craft could accomplish. Griots were often peacemakers. She would need to learn this. “If we killed the barbarians, who would we be?”