Dark of the Sun

"The ponies are no better; you can see that they are not improving," Dukkai accused as Ragoczy Franciscus rose from inspecting the peeling hooves of the latest victims of the crippling condition. "We will have to kill these four. It is meat for us, but we must save some of our ponies or we will never leave this place."

Ragoczy Franciscus brushed off his hands. "You have had fever-especially Wet Lungs and Gray Cough-among your people, and your animals are sick."

"We are punished by the Lords of the Earth. The Underworld Judge is one of them, and he is calling us to account." She put her hand to her eyes, whether to hide her tears or to block out the sight of the miserable animals, not even she knew. "We will die here, just like those in the town are dying. As all the world is dying."

"Are more of your people ill?" Ragoczy Franciscus asked, trying not to give in to the worry that was building within him. "Shall I make you more of the sovereign remedy?"

She studied him briefly. "No; you needn't bother. They won't take anything from foreigners now."

"Yet they will let me treat their livestock," said Ragoczy Franciscus with a slight shrug, coming across the icy path to her side.

"I had a dream of Tejamksa, and it troubles me," Dukkai said unexpectedly. "She has appeared to me, to guide me," she added, slowly.

"Has her guidance been useful?" Ragoczy Franciscus asked.

"I fear it may be," she said. "If you would be willing to let me tell you about it before you leave this evening?"

He saw the hopefulness in her blue eyes and said, "I will be at your disposal."

She made a gesture of relief. "Thank you."

"I have done nothing yet," he reminded her.

"You will help. You always have," she said, and pointed toward the marsh. "There is ice forming in the reeds tonight."

He accepted her change of subject without challenge. "The winter is going to be a hard one. Perhaps not as severe as last year, but worse than usual."

"Yes. All the signs are for it. I have told Neitis Ksoka to make sure there are shelters for our animals as well as for us. He has ordered more tent frames made so that we can put the ponies and the goats inside if there is another ice storm. And there will be-more than one." She closed her eyes hard, the deep wrinkles around them standing out in sharp relief.

"Did you see that in the smoke?" Ragoczy Franciscus asked, keeping his voice as level as he could.

"Yes. If we do not resume our journey, and soon, it is more likely that we will have to suffer for our stubbornness. The Lords of the Earth are in need of our travel. The longer we remain fixed here, the more they must undergo for our sake."

"That is asking much of you in a difficult time," Ragoczy Franciscus observed in a deliberately neutral tone.

"There were many years when the Lords of the Earth asked little and gave much. Now the stream flows the other way, and we must give more for less. If we honor them, the Lords of the Earth will once again restore us to plenty. If we do not show our respect, they will abandon us and we will perish." She pointed out over the marsh, now glowing in the feeble sunlight on the low-lying mist. "The Water Spirits are strong here, and the Lords of the Earth are as weak as the sun has been for two years."

"Ah," said Ragoczy Franciscus. "You have not changed your vision of your circumstances, then?"

She shuddered as the wind picked up, cold and unforgiving. "I have eaten the Fingers of Truth-I brought them with me, in a box made of jade-and hoped for more knowledge to be imparted to me, but it hasn't happened; I have sought out the most remote parts of the marsh where the Water Spirits hover in orbs of light and have ascertained nothing from them. The Lords of the Earth still ail, and I cannot learn more from them until I offer them healing, and the strength of blood to fortify them."

"You will give them another sacrifice?" Ragoczy Franciscus walked a half step behind her as they went back toward the cluster of tents where most of the Desert Cats were busy sewing second layers of skins to the tent frames.

"I must," she said, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "I have a duty to my people and to the Lords of the Earth. They expect me to provide more." She glanced over her shoulder toward the line of ponies, then back at him. "You have done as much as you can."

"I hope I have helped ease your burdens," he said. "I am willing to do more, if you require it."

She went a short distance in silence. "Are you planning to leave Sarai soon?"

"The Master of Foreigners has ordered that I depart within a week after the spring thaw." He thought a moment. "Your visions: what do they tell you is ahead?"

"I'm unsure. The dream of my aunt has made what is coming more difficult." She turned as a dark smear issued from the caves beneath the walls of Sarai. "Bats. They fly every sundown."

"They do little harm," said Ragoczy Franciscus, pausing by the midden.

"The midden gathers heat to itself."

"I will arrange for a cartload of wood-shavings to be brought to you. If you do not want them, burn them in your cooking fires. Otherwise, use them in your middens."

"You have no need of them?" She sounded dubious and studied his face for his answer.

"Considering that Sarai has had two fires in the last month, I believe it would be wiser to bring the shavings to you. If you would rather not have them, I will tell the builders to dispose of the shavings as they like." He smiled at her.

She thought about her response, then said, "If Neitis Ksoka approves, it is acceptable to me."

"Then where is he? I would like to ask him if he would permit me to do this for you."

"He has gone with two of the men, hunting for meat. They said there were wild pigs to be had along the marsh, if the tigers haven't gotten them first." This last was a dark afterthought, one that brought a frown back to her face.

Ragoczy Franciscus understood her fears; attacks by wolves, bears, lions, and tigers were increasing as the amount of food available dwindled. "He is a clever hunter, and he and his men are well armed, I doubt he is going to be hurt."

"It would be a very bad omen if anything were to happen to him. Ksoka would have no leader and the clan no Kaigan. Zumir is too young to lead, and he is not going to guide Ksoka, in any case, not with his fits. You have not seen him have one, but he is taken with dreadful twitching and spasms from time to time, and he is lethargic for days afterward, when he cannot ride." She pressed her lips closed as if afraid of what more she might say.

"Why did you never tell me about this?" Ragoczy Franciscus asked.

"It is a shameful thing. The clan would not like to know I've told you." She lowered her voice. "Do not tell anyone about this."

He knew she was utterly serious. "Very well. But if you change your mind-"

"I will not," she interrupted. "I give him Fingers of Truth brewed in a tea, and it provides some relief."

"Then I hope he may be safe." He went around the end of the makeshift pen where the goats were gathered. All of them were thin, and a number had patchy coats where the hair had fallen out. "Have you done anything about that?" he asked, indicating the exposed skin of the goats. "With the weather turning so cold, you need to protect them."

"They will go into a tent tonight, with two guards with them," said Dukkai.

"A good beginning, but not enough to keep them from hurt, not with their hair falling out in that way," said Ragoczy Franciscus. "I have an unguent that may help them-it is made of herbs infused with wool-fat and olive oil." He could sense her reluctance, so he added, "If you have treatments of your own, I will not impose mine upon you."

She shook her head. "No. The treatments we have tried have done nothing. I will be glad to use yours, but there are those in my clan who would not be."

He held out his hand to her to help her over a broad swath of unmelted ice. "Come. I want to make sure you can use the new cooking pot I bring you."

"Another gift," she said, wagging a finger at him, refusing his help. "You continue to do us service, Zangi-Ragozh. It is not an easy thing to explain to the clan."

"It is what Neitis Ksoka said you lacked when I was here two days ago. He said your old one had become rusted and it was no longer reliable." He stopped as he saw two young men approaching, one of them carrying the bodies of two limp ducks, the other holding a stick from which depended four small fish. "You will be glad of a new pot to cook those in."

"Yes. So I will accept it." She folded her arms and addressed the young men. "Have you brought those for our evening meal?"

The two exchanged quick glances, then the one with the fish said, "Yes, Dukkai," with an exaggerated show of deference. "We intend these for everyone."

"Very good," Dukkai approved, adding in an undervoice to Ragoczy Franciscus, "Some of the boys have been catching birds and fish, then going off into the marsh and eating it all themselves."

"Are you surprised?" Ragoczy Franciscus asked.

"No, but I cannot allow it to continue." She raised her voice. "Your game may be the first into the new pot."

The young man with the ducks sighed. "We'll clean them and bring them to Tokatis."

"He will be glad to have them," said Dukkai, and tugged Ragoczy Franciscus' sleeve. "Show me this wondrous pot."

"It is with the other items on the mule I have just purchased," he said.

"I saw it as you rode in. Your mare is a much finer animal." She took a long moment to look at Ragoczy Franciscus, as if she was committing his face to memory.

"The mule is tougher, however," he said.

She thought about what he said. "As tough as our ponies-when they are well?"

"Certainly their match," said Ragoczy Franciscus. "I bought this one from a Goth, who arrived just before the ice-storm with a small train of mules from the Black Sea. You might find what he has to say useful, if you are planning on continuing west: I certainly did."

"A Goth merchant, from a place called the Black Sea. Does it exist, or is it a tale? If you know, you must tell me." She rounded on him. "If you lie to me, the Lords of the Earth will punish us all for your prevarication."

Ragoczy Franciscus was startled by the vehemence of her challenge, but did his best to answer reasonably. "There is a Black Sea. I have seen it many times." The first time had been while he was still alive, more than thirty-five centuries earlier. "There are towns and cities with ports around it, all of which are benefited by the Black Sea, and the trade that is conducted on its sea-lanes."

Dukkai scrutinized his face, then took a step back, satisfied. "You have spoken truth."

Very seriously, Ragoczy Franciscus held her eyes with his own. "Dukkai, I have no reason to lie to you, and every reason to tell you the truth. If you have questions about what I say, you have only to ask me to clarify what I have said and I will do it."

She had the grace to look abashed. "It isn't that," she mumbled. "I don't doubt you, for I have found that what you say is trustworthy, although it is often beyond my imagining." For a short while she said nothing, then slapped her heavy sleeves with her gloved hands and said as heartily as she could, "Show me this pot. There are fish and ducks to cook-and pig, if we are fortunate. Perhaps pony if we are not."

"It will please me to do so," he assured her, and took her to the edge of the cluster of tents where his horse and mule were tied. "The pot is of heavy copper. You will have to clean it by scouring it with sand between uses, but you will find, I think, that it will serve you well." He took the cauldron from the pack saddle and held it out to her. "From me to your clan, for extending your hospitality to me for all those fortnights."

She held the large pot, both her arms wrapped around it as if around a barrel, for the cauldron was much the same size as one. She resisted the impulse to smile, making instead a moue of discreet smugness. "This will be most welcome, and it is an omen of good to come. If no one else will thank you for it, I will. It is a kindness that you do this, and it shows you a most worthy man. I will let everyone know that you gave this to us without demanding anything in return."

"Is that necessary?" He was not surprised, but he could not conceal his disappointment.

"In hard times, there is always carping," she said, turning and trudging off toward the center of the encampment. "I wish Jekan Madassi had not died of Wet Lungs. This would delight her."

"I am sorry she is dead, too," he said, following Dukkai toward the center of the camp. "Your clan had need of her."

"That we did, and the need is growing, for she knew more of edible plants than anyone else, and now I wish more of us had her knowledge," she said, and stopped near to the main fire-pit. "I will put this here, and shortly we will begin our cooking for the night."

Ragoczy Franciscus stood for a moment, then asked, "Would you like me to wait, or leave?"

She did not answer at once, then said, "If you would wait a while, we will finish what was begun."

"I will go back to my animals, then, so you can deal with your people without my intrusion," he said, starting to turn away.

"Where is Ro-shei?" The question came so suddenly that it stopped him.

"He is at my house in Sarai."

"You have taken in a family, I am told," she said.

"A Constantinopolitan widow and her children," said Ragoczy Franciscus.

Dukkai thought for a long moment, then said, "He knows you have come here."

"Ro-shei? Yes, of course," said Ragoczy Franciscus.

"Of course," she repeated, then looked up as Tokatis came toward her. "Look! A new cauldron, of copper."

"A fine vessel," the butcher announced as he inspected the pot. "And a fine omen." He glanced at Ragoczy Franciscus, then angled his shoulders so that his next remarks were clearly intended for Dukkai alone. "I have some fish and ducks I had not expected. I understand that was your doing."

"I reminded them of their duty," said Dukkai, and called out to Ragoczy Franciscus, "I will call you shortly, Zangi-Ragozh, when I will have a task for you. Let me attend to this now."

Ragoczy Franciscus ducked his head to show he would comply and made his way through the tents back to where his mare and mule stood. He found the Jou'an-Jou'an camp profoundly sad and troubling, for the Desert Cats had lost more than a quarter of their numbers since he had first encountered them in Kumul. He came up to his mare and patted her neck, thinking that her mane needed brushing. Even in her thick winter coat, she was that remarkable shade of dark-blue coat with black mane and tail that caught the attention of all who saw her. The mule was stolid and remote, accepting a bit of dried fruit from Ragoczy Franciscus with the air of boredom his owner had come to expect.

Shouts of children erupted from somewhere within the Desert Cats' group of tents, the cries nearer shrieks than whoops. This commotion began to move, marking the progress of the children as they rushed from one tent to another, shouting the names of the occupants, and chanting some doggerel about the Lords of the Earth. Gradually they made their way to every tent in the encampment.

"They are excited," said Neitis Ksoka, appearing out of the mists near where Ragoczy Franciscus waited.

"They are hungry," said Ragoczy Franciscus, thinking that this young Kaigan was only a few years older than most of those busy children.

"That they are," Neitis Ksoka said. "We all are."

"It is the nature of this new age," said Ragoczy Franciscus, noticing how rapidly the light was fading; at this time of year the days closed in quickly.

"I fear you are right," said Neitis Ksoka. "I am told you are to be thanked for the copper pot."

"I hope you find it useful," said Ragoczy Franciscus.

"You know we will," he said, and strolled away toward the burgeoning glow of the main fire. He swung around to address Ragoczy Franciscus again, all the while walking backward toward his destination. "The mists will be thick tonight. Can your mare find her way back to her stable?"

"We've come here enough that it should not be a problem; she will know the path," said Ragoczy Franciscus, startled by this indication of concern; he had not expected anything so amicable from Neitis Ksoka. He did not add that for those of his blood, darkness was not a serious impediment to sight.

Neitis Ksoka nodded and continued on his way,

Soon it was obvious that all the Jou'an-Jou'an who were able to had now gathered to watch the preparation of their evening meal. Two large pails of water were brought and poured into the pot, which was then placed ceremoniously on the rack above the fire. Each family head brought forward the contribution he was making to the meal, and Tokatis came forward with a tray laden with gobbets of meat, poultry, and fish. These were ceremoniously dumped into the new pot, accompanied by cheers and the steady beating of a drum-Zumir was at his post again. As darkness thickened around them, and the shine of the mist became a glimmerance over the water, Dukkai began to chant, summoning the Lords of the Earth to attend their feast, promising them a feast of their own. Someone threw bitter herbs onto the fire, and the smoke that rose from them blew toward Dukkai.

"Bring our sacrifice," she intoned. The drum became louder, and some of the older men droned a two-note chant. "Bring our sacrifice," she repeated emphatically.

There was a flurry of activity as a number of the young men left the blaze of firelight and hurried off to their appointed collection of the offering.

"It is probably one of the ponies with peeling hooves," Ragoczy Franciscus said to his mare as if apologizing to her. He was about to lead her and the mule back several paces when he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. This staggered him, and as he fell, he could feel ropes going around him, and he heard the urgent, whispered instructions his captors gave one another as they fixed their knots and strove to lift him to their shoulders. "Release me!" He squirmed in his bonds, comprehension coming over him so abruptly that he almost feared he had been knocked unconscious and this was his dream. The jostling of the young men bearing him toward the fire warned him that all this was as real as the band of scars across his abdomen. He forced himself to be calm and spoke as evenly as he could. "You must put me down. This is an error. Dukkai has-"

"She told us to bring you, and bring you we will," said one of the young men, and slapped the rump of the blue roan to set her moving on the road back to the town.

"She told you?" Ragoczy Franciscus wished he were more astonished than he was. He understood now the reasons for Dukkai's occasional shifts of conversation, her unexpected silences, and her odd explanations: she had known when he arrived that she would make him a gift to the Lords of the Earth. At least, he thought, it had troubled her.

The space around the fire-pit was empty but for Dukkai, who stood, smoke rising around her face, a distant stare in her eyes as if she saw impossibly distant vistas. In her hand was the same knife she had used on the goat.

As the drumming grew louder, the young men put Ragoczy Franciscus down in front of her and then backed away, one of them tripping and almost falling as he did.

Taking advantage of this distraction, Ragoczy Franciscus struggled against his bonds, his strength sufficient to loosen two of the knots, but not enough to break the ropes that held him. He began to twist his confined hands, working at the rope to gain enough purchase to slip free.

"Stand!" Dukkai ordered the youth. "To fall is an ill omen."

"Yes, Dukkai," the young man muttered, and slid back toward the shadows of the tents.

Ragoczy Franciscus schooled himself to calm and spoke with patient authority. "Dukkai. This is not going to please the Lords of the Earth. My blood is not worthy: believe this."

She did not look down. "Lords of the Earth, this is the blood demanded by Tejamksa for your solace and strength. The Gods of the Smoke confirm the choice. This foreigner has been along your veins farther than any of us, and he has seen how you shape the earth. So it is fitting that his blood should be shed for your benefit." Leaning forward, she sank her hands in Ragoczy Franciscus' hair and tugged his head back, and in the same notion, slit his throat, taking care not to sever the spine, for such mutilation would render the offering unacceptable. She brought up her hand to protect her face from the pulsing fountain of blood she expected, then stared as only a small amount oozed from the deep cut and soaked into the thick woolen collar of his shuba and kandys.

The assault was so sudden that at first all he felt was a blow; there was little pain. Then the agony hit him and he fell heavily to the side, feeling disoriented and verging on panic. He felt a small amount of blood run down his throat as comprehension burst upon him. In spite of his determination to hang on to consciousness, he began to grow dizzy from shock, and his whole body ached from the insult that had been done to him.

"Look!" someone said in awe. "There is no blood in him."

"It isn't right," said another.

The drumming stopped just before a wail went up from the Desert Cats, and one of the older women screamed, "The offering is refused!"

Neitis Ksoka came up to Ragoczy Franciscus and bent over him. "His eyes are open, and they are moving." He made a sign against sorcery, then kicked the foreigner in the back. He pointed at Dukkai. "You said the Lords of the Earth wanted him. You said the Gods of the Smoke wanted him. You said Tejamksa singled him out!"

"She ... she did," Dukkai faltered. "It was ..."

"It was what?" Neitis Ksoka demanded. "What have you done?"

Even if Ragoczy Franciscus could have drawn enough breath to speak, with his throat cut he could not. He thrashed where he lay, sensing that things would shortly become much worse. With an effort that left him weak with exhaustion, he pulled one hand free from the ropes and felt his neck to determine how much damage had been done. The cut crossed the front of his throat and had sunk slightly more than halfway through skin, muscles, and windpipe, toward his spine, more than enough to be quickly fatal to any living man. To the undead, it would mean many long months of misery while the wounds knitted slowly-that was assuming he was able to get out of the Jou'an-Jou'an camp without further injury and had the opportunity to heal. He lay on his side, fighting to remain alert, his attention fully on Dukkai as Neitis Ksoka continued to rant at her.

"I have done what had to be done," she said woodenly.

"You have brought disaster upon us. We have come to this horrible place because you said we should find pasture here! It was your guidance that put us on this wretched island, that doomed our ponies to die from ruined feet, that let fever loose among us!" He was being supported by growls of agreement. He strode around the fire. "We had to continue west, you said! The Lords of the Earth required it, or the sun would remain weak and we would suffer!"

Dukkai was backing away from him. "No ... I ... No."

"Look at the foreigner! He gives no blood!" Neitis Ksoka pursued.

"Cast him from the camp," shouted one of the men. "Get him away from here!"

"I will remove him," volunteered another.

Ragoczy Franciscus, lost in a haze of pain and turmoil, hardly felt the hands that grabbed his arms and legs and scrambled him out of the camp, casting him toward the edge of the marsh. With every jolt and jounce, excruciation engulfed him, so that by the time he landed with this feet in the water among the weeds, he was unaware of anything but agony, and that soon faded as he fell into a torpor that shut out all the world.

Text of a letter from one of the Imperial secretaries, Shai Ho-Jhi, in Chang'an to Hu Bi-Da in Yang-Chau, carried by Imperial courier and delivered nine fortnights after it was written.

To the most respectable senior clerk of the Eclipse Trading Company in Yang-Chau, the greetings from the court of the Most Illustrious Wen Emperor, Yuan Buo-Ju, the Exquisite Wielder of the Vermilion Brush, at the behest of Hse Hsia-Dju, the Minister of Trade and Monetary Transactions, on this the twelfth day of the Fortnight of the Frost Kings, regarding the current disposition of the affairs of the foreigner Zangi-Ragozh, who is your employer, and the owner of ships and master of caravans throughout all the Middle of the World.

Although summoned to this court more than a year ago, Zangi-Ragozh and his companions. have not yet reached this capital nor has any word of them been heard officially since he departed from Lo-Yang. There is an unconfirmed report that he and his personal servant crossed the Great Wall at Holin-Gol, but circumstances in that region have become so chaotic that no reliable information has reached this Ministry concerning this foreigner, and we cannot confirm or discount any intelligence we have. In terms of taxations and customs duties, any caravans of his trading company will be counted against the funds held here in trust for him or his duly appointed heirs.

A copy of this letter will be provided to the Prefecture of Yang-Chau so that there can be no question as to how matters stand in terms of his company, should Zangi-Ragozh return. It is fitting that we do this, for the peace of the Middle Kingdom and the success of our continuing commerce in all parts of the greater world. We ask that you provide this Ministry with accounts of all ships, caravans, and similar trading ventures held by this foreigner, so that no merchant will be taxed unfairly in his name, and nothing of his shall be given away due to lack of information or sufficient records to make a fair assignment of title and worth to such goods as may come through Chang'an from the distant cities of the West.

There are many merchants whose businesses have been reduced to little more than local peddling since the Year of Yellow Snow. With the sun still dark in the sky, there is little hope that trade can resume next spring, or the spring after, if what is said of the state of the trade roads is true, and much of the way has been damaged by floods and other perturbations of nature. For that reason, the Minister, Hse Hsia-Dju, has stated that taxes on merchants may be postponed for a period of up to four years, at the conclusion of which time the principal sum must be paid, although any interests may be defrayed for another two years. If these provisions will in any way help your employer, I ask you to provide me with such accounts as will have bearing on this ruling, along with itineraries of the caravans, when such can be determined, due to the disruption of trade.

I also ask, on behalf of the Minister, that you notify us should Zangi-Ragozh return and at that time provide any necessary documentation to accompany his return. Also, should you be provided irrefutable proof of his death, this Ministry would like to know of it so that a proper record may be made, any death duties levied, and an appropriate record of all registrations made for the benefit of his heirs as well as those with whom he has done business over the years.

Whatever holdings are on record here in Chang'an may be inspected by you or your appointed deputy at any time, providing all taxes and duties are current and the accounts maintained by Zangi-Ragozh are sufficient to cover the cost of such an inspection. The Ministry of Trading and Monetary Transactions receives such petitions for inspections on the fifth, ninth, and thirteenth day of every fortnight, between the Hour of the Cock and the Hour of the Dragon. You or your deputy may leave credentials at the Ministry any day and arrange an appointment for the next available inspection day. It would be my honor to assist you in such an inspection, if that is in accord with Zangi-Ragozh's instructions to you, or the nature of your business transactions determines this is a prudent course.

Your cooperation will be noted and appreciated and will reflect well upon any member of your family residing in the bounds of the Wen Emperor's rule.

Shai Ho-Jhi

Secretary to Hse Hsia-Dju

Imperial Ministry of Trade and Monetary Transactions

Chang'an