Shadows, стр. 15

“Uh…huh. I never saw it that way before.”

“I serve the satrap as silci, because only he can rule his people fairly, and it is in my people’s interest that he does so. Anyone who aids him in protecting the people of R’Bak is a friend worthy of his protection, while those who oppose him deserve only destruction.”

Less a growl than a double-grunt, Waornaak’s response conveyed more than a paragraph’s worth of response. It was a common vocalization of agreement among some of the Ashband tribes. After Waornaak clomped down the stairs into the streets of the Inner City, Yukannak signaled to a figure lingering inside the tunnel. He wore a dull robe and unadorned purple paint. He seemed far less intimidating than the hulking Waornaak, but Yukannak knew the opposite to be true.

From the instant they’d met, Yukannak had marked Zeesar as the man to befriend, the man who made things happen—things the F’ahdn did, and didn’t, know about. He likely knew more about what was happening in Imsurmik than even the man he served.

“You heard?”

“I heard.”

“What do you know of this archive, Zeesar?” he asked.

“Nothing at all.”

Among the many liars he’d met during his career, Zeesar was one of the best. Not only were his expressions and body language perfect, the inflection of his voice matched his physical stance. If his life hadn’t depended on knowing a lie when he heard it, Yukannak would have believed him. But gentle correction would not send the right message. “Would you like to reconsider that answer before I take offense?”

Zeesar lifted an appraising eyebrow, an obvious admission he’d misjudged the silci. “I had thought it a myth,” he finally said. “Not worth troubling over.”

“Not like the entrance I came through.”

Zeesar didn’t try to hide that the memory made him angry. “No.”

“But you had heard of it?”

“Rumors only, nothing to bother the silci about. Had I more information, I would have come to you with it.”

“Would you? Perhaps so, although I doubt it. But I saw your reaction to that tunnel we used to enter the city. That was something new to you, a secret, and as the F’ahdn’s yuzbazzi you didn’t expect there to be any secrets. Yet Subitorni did know of the concealed entrance, and there were fresh tracks.” He decided to throw out a guess to gauge Zeesar’s reaction. “There was a recent operation, and you knew nothing of that, either.”

Zeesar squinted and didn’t try to hide his surprise. “You’re well informed. Imsurmik has more spies than I thought.”

“I can be your ally, Zeesar, but only if I can trust you. Remember, my trust brings with it the trust of the satrap.”

“And the Harvesters?”

“That goes without saying.” The lie came easy. Yukannak paused then, content to watch as Zeesar calculated where his best interests lay. After nearly a minute, the yuzbazzi nodded.

“You may rely on me, Silci.”

“And you on me. From now on you are to inform me of all rumors, whether you give them credence or not. Are we agreed?”

“We are, and in return you will tell me if my name comes up?”

“Of course.”

Being the satrap’s eyes and ears had long since trained Yukannak to still his tongue and hide his emotions, especially relief. So instead of smiling at the militia leader he let his face go slack and moderated his tone.

“You have my support in the days to come,” he said. “We shall both be glad.”

“Yes,” Zeesar said, “we can certainly hope so.”

* * * * *