“Huh? You mean I helped things in there?”
“Of course you did,” says Signe. “Voortyashtanis respect those who have tested themselves in battle. You’re not only a veteran, but you were in a battle against a god. They grudgingly admire you, General Mulaghesh. It put them on uneven footing. I thought that was why Biswal wanted you there in the first place?”
Mulaghesh cocks her head, turning this over. “Huh. You’re probably right. Speaking of admiration…Why did that one group stand up when you spoke? Some of them looked like they were saluting you, in some way.”
Signe is silent for a long while. “That would have been the highland Jaszlo tribe, General.”
“Ah. Your old family, then?”
“They are not my family.” Her voice is arctic. Not quite as cold as when Mulaghesh provoked her into talking about Sigrud, maybe, but close. “They hold to traditions that I no longer honor. But they gave us shelter when we needed it.”
Mulaghesh looks Signe over carefully.
“What?” says Signe, irritated.
“You said they respected those who dealt death,” says Mulaghesh. “And they seemed to respect you a whole lot in there, CTO Harkvaldsson.”
Something in Signe’s jaw flexes. Then she pulls out her beaming, perfect smile. “Have a good afternoon, General.”
***
Mulaghesh waits for the tribal leaders to file out before entering the assembly chamber. Biswal and Rada are quietly conversing, reviewing the notes.
“You know, Lalith,” says Mulaghesh as she approaches, “if you wanted me to put some scare in these people, you could have just asked.”
Biswal looks up at her over his spectacles. “Some scare?”
“That’s why you really wanted me here. To distract them, make them all hot and bothered. It’s easier to herd sheep when they’re skittish.”
His eye gains the slightest of twinkles. “They were much easier to handle when they realized you were here, that’s true. But if I’d asked you to come and be my celebrity guest, Turyin, I felt sure you’d turn me down.”
“Probably true.”
“You asked me to make use of you,” says Biswal. “Which I did. I hope you won’t hold it against me, but…the ends sometimes justify the means.”
Something in Mulaghesh curdles at that. This isn’t the first time she’s heard him say that. Then she slowly realizes that little Rada Smolisk is staring at her with giant, shocked eyes.
Biswal glances at her and says, “I’m sorry, I haven’t properly introduced you both yet. Governor Rada Smolisk, this is General Mulaghesh. Turyin, this is…”
Rada stands. Something in her posture makes her look even smaller when she’s on her feet. “P-Polis Governor R-Rada Smolisk,” she says. Her voice is almost less than an echo, and it’s as though she has to dig each syllable out from some deep, difficult part of herself.
Mulaghesh smiles thinly. She doesn’t like the idea of a Continental as polis governor—adders in charge of the chicken coop and all that—but she finds it hard to be worried by this small, shrinking creature. “Very nice to meet you, Governor.”
The two of them look at Rada, expecting her to carry on in the pleasantries. But instead Rada gets a faraway look on her face, as if just remembering an awful nightmare she had last evening.
“Rada?” asks Biswal.
Rada snaps to attention. “G-General Mulaghesh, I’m s-sorry, but…I w-would like to s-say this while I h-huh-have the chance.”
“Okay?”
She swallows and stares into the floor as she tries to assemble the words. “I—I am originally a n-native of B-Bulikov, and I—I was there in the B-Battle of Bulikov. And if it were n-not for you and y-your soldiers, I w-wou…Well. I most cer-certainly w-would have d-died.”
“Uh, thank you,” says Mulaghesh, surprised. This was about the last thing she expected to hear. “I appreciate the words, but we were just doing our jo—”
“M-my family’s house c-collapsed,” says Rada. “My wh-whole family d-d-d-perished. And I was tr-trapped in the ruins w-with them. For f-four days.”
“By the seas, child, I…”
“It was your s-soldiers that found me. They d-dug me out. They didn’t h-h-have to. There were th-thousands in n-need. But they d-did. They t-told me they had a p-p-policy of never leaving a-uh-anyone behind.” Rada looks up. “I have al-always wanted to th-thank you for what y-you and y-your soldiers did.”
“Your thanks are warmly received.” Mulaghesh bows. “I’m happy to hear we were of service. But how, if I could ask, did you wind up in Voortyashtan?”
“I was a m-medical student at Bulikov University. A-after the battle, I w-went to Ghaladesh on a Ministry program. I’d become interested i-in humanitarian a-aid—as you c-can probably u-uhh-understand.”
“Of course.”
“Th-then news came th-they were tr-trying to escalate th-their w-work here in V-V-Vv…” Rada trails off, her face bright red. She sighs, surrendering. “In this place. They n-needed a new p-polis governor, one w-with a m-more humanitarian f-focus. I applied.” Then she thinks and counts off on her fingers: “D-during my tenure here, w-we’ve reduced infant death by twenty-nine percent, maternal death by twenty-four percent, death by infectious disease by fourteen percent, child malnourishment by thirty-three percent, and I’ve personally performed seventy-three successful surgeries.” She looks up from her fingers and glances around, dazed, as if just remembering where she is.
“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good record going,” says Mulaghesh. She notes Rada didn’t stutter a bit while firing off those statistics.
“Thank you,” she says meekly. Then she stoops and gathers up her papers. “I have to go and make formal copies of the m-m-minutes. I-I-eh-eh-uh, uhhh-i-it was a p-p-pleasure meeting you.” She bows.
“A pleasure,” says Mulaghesh, bowing back. She watches as Rada Smolisk scampers off, wondering if she was wrong to mistrust a Continental as polis governor. If anyone could have a desire to help Saypur reconstruct the Continent, it’d be a Bulikovian, someone who’s witnessed the Continent’s own gods wreak destruction on their very people.
“The girl is odd,” says Biswal, watching her go. “As anyone who went through that would be. But she is a brilliant doctor. Much cleverer than a lot of the medics we have up at the fortress.” He stops and looks around himself. “Now. What in the hells am I doing.”
“Giving me access to the mines.”
“Ah. That’s right. Pandey and you seem to get along, so I’ve given him the proper clearances to take you on a tour of the facility. His auto is waiting outside, which you can take. I’ll be going up to the fortress…” He sighs. “Well. Much later.”
“More to clean up here?”
Biswal signs a report with unusual ferocity, nearly slicing the paper in half with the nub of his pen. “Always more. I was taught that peace is the absence of war. But I wonder if these days we’ve simply replaced conventional war with a war of paper. I’m not so sure which is better.”