*
It was a cool, crisp afternoon, at least ten degrees lower than the Deccan village from which the petite and dusky Derla Siyal had come, but if she was cold, she did not show it. Navroz studied her composed face with grudging admiration. Derla had never Transported before, but she had used two sets of doors to arrive at the Ferghana Hub. To look at her, sitting serene and regal under the mulberry tree, one would have thought she’d arrived by palanquin. Navroz was not surprised that Faran Lashail, the head of the Order of Valavan, had chosen her as the Order’s new ambassador. She had “elder-in-the-making” written all over her smooth brow.
Felda’s arrival interrupted her train of thoughts. The squat, scowling elder looked even grimmer than usual, although she made an attempt at a smile for the visitor.
“Chintil Maya is taking an advanced combat class and Mumuksu Chan is in meditation, but we will have them join us if you stay long enough,” said Felda, dropping down on the grass next to them.
“I’m sorry that the Mahimata is otherwise engaged,” added Navroz. “She means no disrespect.”
Derla raised her delicate eyebrows. “Perhaps you did not convey the seriousness of the situation? Faran will be most disappointed. First I will have to tell her that her dear old friend Shirin is no more. Then I will have to tell her that the new Mahimata does not deem a visitor from Valavan significant enough to grant her an audience.”
Navroz almost snorted. Dear old friend indeed. Shirin Mam and Faran Lashail went back a long way, but they had been as “friendly” as two cats fighting for the same bit of fish. She said, “As the new Mahimata, Tamsyn has her hands full right now. But you have the ears of the elders of Kali. Now, please tell us what brings you here. It is not often that the caves of Kali have such a distinguished visitor.”
Derla smiled, but the smile did not touch her eyes. “It is not often that we hear of entire villages in the Thar being laid waste by the dark weapons.”
Her words hung in the air like bits of ice. Navroz swallowed. “Entire villages? Are you certain?”
“Certain?” said Derla. “No. Although our authority extends into the Thar, we do not often venture there. The only door to the middle of the desert that we know of is here in the Ferghana Hub. We have a door to Jhelmil, northeast of the desert, too far to be of much use. But we’ve questioned a couple of survivors who made it to Jhelmil. It appears that an army is in slow march to the north, mowing down any that stand in its way.”
“Kai Tau,” said Felda.
“Kai Tau,” agreed Derla. “The Taus are the only outlaws equipped with death-sticks. You know that they stole twelve kalashiks from the clan of Arikken several years ago. The remaining weapons in Asiana have been under constant guard since then, in the Temple of Valavan.”
She paused. Navroz and Felda exchanged a meaningful glance. There had been much secrecy surrounding the location of the remaining weapons cache, with Faran Lashail refusing to admit that such a cache even existed.
Derla continued, “The point is, why now? We left the Taus alone and they were careful not to draw attention to themselves. We probed a bit further, and heard disturbing rumors of a mark. Apparently, Kai Tau’s son was executed by a Markswoman of Kali some months ago. Now I am sure that you will tell me I am wrong, because the Thar is our territory, and Shirin Mam would not have done such a thing without Faran Lashail’s permission and approval.” She sat back, fixing her calm gaze on them.
Felda began to speak but Navroz forestalled her, knowing that Derla was baiting them, trying to draw them into a defensive position.
“You may have nominal territorial jurisdiction over the Thar,” she said. “But as you have confessed, your Markswomen hardly ever go there. The Order of Valavan may number eighty-five compared to our thirty-three, but you are still too thinly spread over the subcontinent to enforce the Kanun in every field and dune. Perhaps Faran needs to step up her recruiting?”
Derla’s face flushed with anger and she opened her mouth to speak, but Navroz raised a hand, cutting her off. “Wait. I am not finished. You may have territorial jurisdiction over the Thar, but the Order of Kali has moral jurisdiction over the fate of the Taus. It was Kyra Veer who executed Maidul Tau.”
“The Taus are murderers and must be brought to justice sooner or later,” added Felda. “Just because they are better equipped than the average outlaw doesn’t mean that they are beyond the Kanun.”
Derla exhaled slowly. “It is as Faran suspected. The Markswoman Kyra is allowed to take revenge for a past tragedy, and the Order of Valavan is left to handle the bloody aftermath. This is not what we expected of Shirin Mam.”
“Shirin Mam rarely did what was expected,” said Navroz. “Rest assured that you understand her even less than we did.” She frowned. “That said, we will certainly not leave you to ‘handle the bloody aftermath’ alone. When I said that we have moral jurisdiction, I meant it.”
“And what will you do?” said Derla. “Engage them in open battle? That is the surest way to die. Kalashiks can kill over a distance of several hundred meters. For us to use our weapons, we must be able to get close to the outlaws.”
“Is that why the Taus still live?” said Felda. “Because the Markswomen of Valavan are afraid?”
“Felda!” Navroz’s voice was cold, carrying every bit of authority she possessed as the eldest of the elders.
Felda colored, mumbled something that could have been mistaken as an apology by someone a little hard of hearing, and glared into the distance with folded arms.
Navroz said quietly, “I think we all know why the Taus still live.”
The three were silent. They did know, and it was nothing to be proud of. It was the massacre of Veer, after all, that had silenced the voices that complained of the tithe they gave to the Orders, the voices that had insinuated that Markswomen belonged to an era that was dead and gone.
Yes, they had played an important role once. For many years after the Great War, people struggled to survive, to find clean water and grow food to feed themselves and their diminished families. But everything was tainted by the toxic remains of the decades-long conflict. People sickened and died in large numbers—more even than had been killed during the war itself.