Edam tapped her foot and slowly worked her way through a chunk of wood with Ana’s knife. She didn’t have anything else to do; she couldn’t go out. She felt too stressed to read the two books they had again. She couldn’t even bring herself to eat even though she was in the kitchen. She instead gave herself over to the act of whittling, not for a focus but to simply give her hands something to do. She doubted she could make anything of value right now anyways. Ana slept for a long time, recovering slowly from her injuries; she only rose to have a short dinner of bread and what wine they had left before she went back to sleep. When Edam had finally cut the wooden stump down to a nub and the light had become low again she cleaned up the shavings and slowly rose to get into bed with Ana again. She didn’t even wake when Edam got in with her, only shivering at the touch of her hands. She had curled up into a ball like a baby. Edam slowly crawled up, pressing her chest into Ana’s back and nudging her hands about her waist until they were intertwined.
She let Ana rest for a moment more before gently shaking her awake.
“What is it?”
“Your watch, dear. Sorry to wake you.”
Ana rose up slowly, bathed only in the candlelight that made her outline glow with a fleeting light. She sighed, and Edam rose up for a moment to hug her. Ana hugged her back, and then brushed her off.
“Sleep, Edam,” she said with a bit too much force, “You almost look as bad as I feel.”
She didn’t blame Ana for it. She would’ve felt forceful too after a day and night like that. She grasped at the blanket for comfort before falling asleep. The night was long and fitful. She dreamt and remembered little of it but teeth and hands. Flashes came and went out of the dark edges where memory and dream met; flashes of pain, of stone statues that seemed to live and breathe and reach out for her. Once or twice, Ana came back, a shimmering vision at the edge of the dream. She put her hand on Edam’s shoulder, and it felt real; it certainly could have been real. She knew somewhere on the very edges of her awareness that she was dreaming and Ana was no more than a few steps away at most and yet here in the dream it felt like the hand on her shoulders was ten-thousand miles away. It was only the last image of the dream that made her gasp into wakefulness.
When she next opened her eyes, dawn’s first light was streaming through the thin curtains. That wasn’t what had woken her up. She sat up as well as she heard another knock at the front door. Ana was hunched in the corner, every muscle in her body tensed and ready for action. Edam mirrored her immediately.
“Is it-”
“Shh,” hushed Edam, “Wait. If it’s the guards…”
Ana nodded, and ducked down to find her pistol from its hiding place. She cocked it, making sure that the flint was ready and the pan was full.
“I’ll wait here at the door. I’ll have an angle on them if they come in.”
Edam snuck her flail behind her back and put on her shoes in case she needed to run. Ana did much the same, putting one hand at the ready on by bags while her right kept the gun. She carefully walked to the front door. The light was just enough to let the shadow of their feet show through the bottom of the doorframe.
“Who is it?” She asked, just loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.
“Varna,” said a familiar, muffled voice, “And Sol is here as well. We’ve got news.”
Edam breathed a sigh of relief. After the past few day she had her share of nasty surprises. Varna’s voice felt soothing in comparison. She let the door open immediately to her soft smile. She had adopted some Kolet mannerisms in her dress. She had traded the brighter colors of her home for a white-and-green work dress, like the kind a fishwife might wear. Sol was close behind her wearing a weary expression on his face. His eyes, though, were sharp, scanning her and then the street behind him when he looked back.
“It’s all clear, Ana,” she said back to the bedroom, “Just friends.”
There was the sound of the gun decocking as she put it away before coming through to the main room. Sol leaned up against the wall as Varna, Edam and Ana sat. Ana sighed.
“So, what’s the news? Anything on our mercenaries?”
“Everything’s on the mercenaries. They’re the talk of the town. I talked with Dzhate’s people. The good news is that they were able to confirm that there’s only four of them.”
“The bad news?” Inquired Edam.
“They’re doing their job. They’ve killed at least more than six people so far and by all accounts no one has seen them in action yet. Or, if they have, they aren’t telling. I wouldn’t either if I was them.”
Edam stared.
“More than six?”
“Well, people tend to exaggerate, but in this scenario I’m inclined to believe them. I’ve heard nothing higher than eight from the people on the street. Six men armed to the teeth on their turf.”
“We’re looking at reprisals, harder crackdowns,” said Ana, “You kill people like that and the actual military might get involved.”
“True,” said Sol, “I’ve consulted with our betters, if you can call them that. Temari has given me some orders. She’s on the warpath and about as angry as I’ve ever seen her but she’s not going to let go of a good circumstance. The mercenaries still think they’re getting paid in full at the end of all this. She wants me to do some reconnaissance on them and let them do the dirty work before we intervene and stop them from killing Dzhate. She thinks that Dzhate’s in a good position for her – their profits don’t interfere with one another.”
“Stop meaning…?”
Sol grimaced for a moment.
“Well, she told me to find out where they-”
“She wants us to kill them in their sleep,” interrupted Varna, “I suspect she’s accustomed to hedging her words against investigation, but when you tell someone to find where someone sleeps and deal with them when the time’s right there are only so many possibilities for what’s to be done.”
There was a long pause as the reality of it set into the room. Ana looked back at Edam for a moment. If she was trying to communicate something silently besides concern, Edam couldn’t see it.
“It’s just these people – it’s not worth arguing about, I suppose.”
“You have qualms?”
“No.”
Edam knew she did. She interjected.
“What’s in it for us?”
“Not dying?” Said Sol, “Having a much lower chance of being captured? Doing a good deed?”
“I don’t think- if we wanted to do the right thing here, wouldn’t we be trying to stop them right off the bat?” Asked Edam.
Sol leaned back. He suddenly looked very weary.
“I’ll be honest with you. This isn’t the plan that I suggested. These people are walking calamities. They are unclean, unfit for living among good men, among any men. To put it another way – if you killed them before their job was finished, I wouldn’t stop you, and I wouldn’t tell Temari. Given the circumstance, you’d be right to do so. There’s nothing else that you could do to stop them besides pay them more than Dzhate has promised. But I have my word from Temari, and it’s my hide if I don’t make best efforts. If you want to back out, I’ll do it myself.”
“I’ll be helping him,” said Varna quietly, “I have heard of the sort of things these people do. There’s unfinished business here.”
He looked to them for an answer. Edam looked at Ana. She seemed to have calmed down a little bit – less tense, more amicable to the situation.
“Good,” said Sol, producing a map from his coat, “Have a look at this.”
The map was hand drawn but incredibly neat. It made the chaos of the past days almost make sense. Most of the side alleys had been omitted for the sake of making the battle-lines legible. Towards the docks was a delineation of Temari’s work – two layers of barricades which must have been manned and held up by her people. The bridge was marked with a few notes about troop numbers, garrisons and movements. Off to the far side was Dzhate’s territory, marked with a dotted line.
“These people are, by Dzhate’s account, classic Gveert military. They’ve got sets of civilian and military clothes – old uniforms. Weapons to match. They’ll be skilled sorcerers, all of them.”
“You know the way these people fight. What do you think their next move will be?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I was just a chaplain, and a doctor. I didn’t see much of the fighting myself and I certainly didn’t make the plans. That being said, I did hear rumors about them working behind enemy lines. They’d dig in somewhere and become a thorn in the side of the enemy for weeks, months even. Their other capacity was collecting information. They’d ambush smaller troop movements, take their leaders, wring them for information and then report back, or use that information to keep moving up the chain of command.”
He took a notch of charcoal from his pocket, and marked two points: one close to the edge of the river, far from the barricades, and another near to Dzhate’s territory.
“My few remaining sources point to two of the commissioners for the Guard to be distributed between these locations. Unfortunately, they might be working with better information than us with their raid. If there’s somewhere they’re going to hit, it’s going to be one of these two places. That means that we could reconnoiter here, and here.”
He made two more marks.
“The first one, near the river, is down a blind alley. Right at the edge of that alley is an abandoned butchery. You could get a good view of the street from the second floor.”
“How do you know that?” Asked Edam.
“Hid out there for a week once,” said Sol, “Anyways, the other one is trickier, but if you go to the third floor of this building, you can see the whole of that intersection. It’s abandoned too, for the record. Black mold problem. You’ll want to keep your mouth and nose covered as long as you’re in there. You’d probably see them pass through, or on their way out unless they’ve based themselves in Dzhate’s territory. And if you don’t see them come that way, that narrows it to Dzhate’s territory, or somewhere outside the main part of the city so…”
Edam nodded.
“So we split up,” she said, “One team takes the blind alley, the other takes the intersection. We stake them out for… how long?”
“Not too long. Either tonight or tomorrow night is my guess. These people move very quickly once they have the information they need.”
Ana then spoke up.
“Do you think we could get Vella to help?”
Sol shook his head.
“I haven’t seen her. Her apartment’s abandoned. Odds are that she flew the coop. Temari is putting us onto this because she trusts us to get the job done, and because she’s already stretching herself to keep her operations in working order. I told her that she’s underestimating who she’s up against, but if we work subtly, we have a good chance to make it through.”
“Alright. Can I speak with Ana privately for a moment?” Asked Edam.
He gestured lightly towards their room. Ana joined her as she rose and closed the door behind them. When Edam looked back, she felt guilty. Ana looked heavy. Normally, her height and her size would give her the sort of solidity that would make her imposing, make her seem invincible. Now she was just the same size on muscles that didn’t want to carry her. Her eyes looked sad. She reached out for Ana’s hands, and for the first time Ana seemed truly reluctant, pausing before
“You’re sure you’re ready for this?”
“Sol hasn’t lead me wrong before. If he says this is our best shot of making it out of this alive and uncaptured, I’ll follow him. Are you?”
“I think so. I think I should go with Varna – if I have my face hidden, I can pass as Kolet. It’ll be easier for her to go without suspicion that way. You’re fine with us being apart?”
“Yes,” said Ana tersely, looking at Edam. Somehow, Edam was feeling guilty now. They felt accusatory, disappointed in her. She felt as if she had to say something, but she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.
“Ana?” She asked quietly.
“Yes?”
“Please don’t die,” said Edam, “I love you. I’m not done with you.”
She reached out and hugged Ana tightly, and Ana hugged her tightly back. Ana then leaned down a little to kiss her. She took it in and cared for it, trying to put as much of herself into Ana as she could before she left Ana’s arms. She wanted to think that Ana could carry it with her. That it would make it easier for her. She paused, letting them both pull away, but keeping in an embrace. Ana smiled at her, seeming a little happier.
“Thank you,” said Ana, “I’m not done with you either. Stay safe; I love you.”
They walked back out together.
“Alright,” said Edam, “Varna, you’re with me. Ana’s with Sol.”
“Great,” said Sol, clasping his hands together, “Have you been hiding your face, Edam?”
“Just wearing a hood,” she said, “But if you have suggestions for a more sufficient way of hiding my identity, I’m open to them.”
He looked at her for a moment like she was some kind of complex problem before speaking again.
“Can you cry on command?”
“Probably. Why?”
֎֎֎
The veil was stuffy over Edam’s face, making her sweat a little for her disguise. It was, she had to admit, a pretty good one. It did make her feel a little despicable to dress up as a grieving young widow, but she hadn’t gotten any looks from anyone that weren’t about pity. Varna joined the act with a black dress and veil of her own. They had already prepared their speeches for the guards. Though she didn’t know much of him, Sol seemed to have a very good grasp of what sort of clothes were best for combat. The dresses he chose were quite unrestrictive, and the black backpack and cloth she used to hide their collected foci blended well with the rest of the disguise. To complete it, he had handed her jewelry – an iron ring. The sign of a married low-class woman.
The curfew seemed to be working, or at least intimidating the population. Back in Temari’s territories, the guards were thinner and the crowds bolder, with the attempts to remove the entrenched criminals all failing. In most of the streets they couldn’t even dislodge the barricades. Here, though, the crowds were afraid and herded by men and women with pikes and muskets on what felt like every corner. They would regularly stop anyone whom they deemed suspicious. Some brave souls would balk or gather round and protest, sometimes trying to drown out the voices of the guards with their own chants and veiled threats. Usually, it ended with them letting the person go or dragging them away to the protestation of the rabble-rousers. None of them dared to go after the two mourners, one of whom was clearly a distraught, regularly-sobbing widow. They were already receiving protestors; they seemed to figure that stopping such innocent targets would provoke a full-blown riot. Edam made sure to perform a particularly choked sob whenever she saw a guard with a gun.
The sky was blood red when they arrived at the intersection, where some five streets cut into each other. No one seemed to care as they entered into the abandoned building. Sure enough, there was a thorough infestation of black mold on the first floor, the dark spots having consumed corners and swathes of the wall. Edam ascended through the stairwell and up to one of the rooms where there was a clear view of the intersection. It was empty of all furniture and one of the windows was shattered, leaving glass shards all over the floor, but besides that it had everything they needed. There, she got a better sense of the crowds. Most of the people were already clearing out, preparing to hunker down for the night in their homes and hovels.
Edam was the first to speak as Varna perched herself up against the wall. Edam laid out their equipment comfortably across what parts of the floor were not covered with broken glass or suspicious black spots, letting Varna collect her effects. Varna paused.
“Well, besides the city-wide curfew and the fact that there’s a bounty on your head, and we’ve all been living in what I have come to learn is one of the worst parts of the country we’re in, how have you been?” Asked Varna lightly.
Edam laughed a little.
“Good. Well, up until the curfew it was very good.”
“Really? I mean, I figured you were doing well since you moved to a new place with Ana, but the way you said it…”
Edam gestured for her to finish her thought.
“You seem different,” she said, “Happier than I expected you to be.”
She paused as Edam continued to scan the intersection.
“So, what’s she like?”
“Ana? It’s hard to describe,” said Edam, “She’s sweet with me. I don’t think anybody has been as kind to me as she has. Maybe you, but she’s different – no offense.”
“None taken,” said Varna, “From what I’ve seen of her, she’s a charming woman. I was with her for some of your recovery, while you were still in and out of consciousness. She was watching over you the entire time, making sure you had medicine. She talked to you, too.”
“Really?”
“She didn’t seem to think that anyone was listening,” said Varna, “Maybe she wasn’t talking to you. Maybe she was praying. But she said to herself that you needed to wake up sometime soon. I think she was afraid that you might not.”
Edam nodded. It sounded like her, and even if she didn’t quite remember it she could easily imagine it.
“She’s just like that. I managed to find myself a job. Almost every day, she was there. Waiting for me like an anxious dog in the kitchen, cooking for me or drawing a bath for me. And she’s just so gentle! I mean, she was always gentle. Back when I first met with her, I didn’t know what to think of her – she was reserved and straight-forward at the same time, she spoke a bit funny, and she’s imposing, you know?”
Edam paused, looking to Varna as she thought about it a little deeper.
“I mean – my whole life, I’ve been pushed around by people who were bigger or more capable or just plain older than me. She’s taller than me, she could probably lift me above her head if she tried, but she’s never used that against me. She knows me, knows how I’d feel about that. When she touches me, it’s – oh, I don’t have the words for how pleasant it is. It’s the pleasure of knowing that she would never do anything to hurt me on purpose. I mean, she already broke my heart once with the witchcraft, and her leaving the Inquisition. I really thought for a while that she had it in her heart to harm me, and now every night she kisses me before I go to sleep. It’s better than I ever could have imagined in chastity.”
Varna nodded.
“And she’s been fine as well?”
“She’s-”
She paused, thinking about the past two days.
“She’s been fine.”
She couldn’t see Varna’s face fully beneath her veil, but she could hear that she was raising one of her eyebrows in her voice. Edam returned her gaze to the street below.
“That doesn’t sound fine.”
Edam sighed.
“Alright, it hasn’t been all perfect. Particularly for her. She’s had a really rough couple of days, and it hasn’t been easy for me to see her like that. I feel selfish for even saying that. Really, it’s been far worse for her than it’s been for me. She had a falling out with our roommate yesterday. They were apparently friends from way back, and there was… bad blood that came back to the surface when it came out that we were fugitives. I mean, I don’t blame them. It hasn’t been easy.”
“How bad is it? Are you out on the street?”
“No,” said Edam, “Saints bless us. I’m just worried – I mean, you can’t tell anyone about this, got it?”
“Of course. You have my confidentiality.”
“Turns out our roommate is a transvestite. I never would have guessed, personally, which unnerves me. And Ana-”
She paused, trying to parse it in her head.
“She was involved with him when they were younger, years ago, before she took her vows. And she was crossdressing. For pleasure, instead of survival like she does now. And yesterday she asked me if I would care if she’s a transvestite. Of course I said that she isn’t, so it doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to insult her.”
Varna listened intently.
“Eh- transvestite. I’ve heard the word before in Kolet and I assumed by the way people treated it, it was a swear. Now you’re saying it like it’s a criminal offense. What exactly does it mean?”
Edam paused, confused for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to her that Varna wouldn’t know what the word meant. She racked her brain for theological knowledge, for history. She knew that the Sondi were more permissive of that sort of sin, so she wanted to tread carefully.
“Listen, Sepulcherites – we have some very specific ideas about men and women. Once, before creation, there was no difference, no change, no past, no future, and in the Every-Nowhere that is still – was – will be – true. The Godhead created from this all things good, the difference between good and evil, sin and virtue, and every other difference you can imagine. And these differences are holy, you must understand. This is also true of the differences between men and women. To shorten the Scripture somewhat, to dress as the opposite sex and revel in it is considered a very dangerous sin, because you are trying to undo the holy difference created by the Godhead. That can lead to other sins. Even more dangerous, heretical and blasphemous is to do so while performing acts of divinity – being a priest or priestess, more or less – as this was the sin of the priests of the Three Immortals who so oppressed the ancient Sepulcherites. To do so is to defy the will and authority of the Godhead.”
“I see,” said Varna, “I had heard of this sort of uncivilized thought before.”
Edam was taken aback.
“Uncivilized?”
“I mean – it seems uncivilized from the perspective of Sondi thinkers, so based in the thought of Kenin as they are. I am certain you have your reasons. That said – if it is a sin, why can’t it be forgiven? You Sepulcherites seem to be very interested in the matter of forgiveness.”
Edam thought about this for a while. As she did she watched the people come and go from the intersection. There was still no sign of their targets – no clamor of violence or fear on the streets besides what the guards were inflicting. She was starting to worry that she might be here all night, and Ana would be dealing with the rest of them alone. Varna took the moment to speak again.
“I mean, there’s nothing preventing a transvestite from living an otherwise virtuous life, no? I am a pagan, yet according to you I am virtuous by your standards. Why can’t Ana – a woman you seem to love dearly – also live in such a manner? I’ve known such people myself. Doctors, spiritualists. They were all nothing but kind to me. And Ana, by your word, has been quite kind to you.”
“It’s too much,” admitted Edam.
“How so?”
“Too much,” she repeated, “I had just begun to come to terms with her witchcraft. I mean I hadn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Why? I spent years hunting witches, and I have been thoroughly instructed to hate the act and the actor. A few nights ago I saw a locust crawl out of one of her open wounds. Now I learn that she might rather be a man. That this whole time, she was hiding another sin that our religion finds grievously wrong. One that makes me think I have to beat her into shape whenever I think too much of it, and then I feel so guilty that I feel like I have to beat myself into shape because I can’t-”
She sighed and stopped herself. She needed to think of other things so she could focus.
“Saints, I’m such a hypocrite. I wish she was here so that I could-
“I don’t think-”
Varna stopped. The streets were mostly empty now except for a group of five guards and some stragglers. Edam quickly picked up on what Varna had seen: two figures had arranged themselves at the end of the alleyway. The shorter of two was darker-skinned, a Gveert woman. Both were dressed like military cavalry, with long coats that might have once borne brighter colors of green and red and heavy leather jackboots to match. The short woman was barely concealing a pistol under her coat; the man beside the Gveert woman looked like he was local, but he wore the same uniform. He was a fit man with a polished walking stick in his hand. It seemed out of place on a military man, and was awkwardly sized, verging on half his height.
“Are those ours?”
“Looks like it,” whispered Varna, “They’re out in the open. How’d they get that far while bearing weapons openly?”
“Simplest answer, they didn’t. Kept them hidden until now, which means-”
Edam paused as she watched one of the guards approach the two, who walked forward in kind. Only half of them were present, they were moving openly, and they were heavily armed. If she was right that meant that this was going to be a distraction. The actual assault would be where Ana was. The guard called out to the woman as she approached. The few remaining stragglers murmured and began to move along, not wanting trouble.
It happened fast, but not so fast that Edam couldn’t see it. The woman whipped the concealed pistol up from her belt and into the guard’s head. He yelped and jumped backwards before she fired and he crumpled to the floor, his face concealed by the plume of smoke. The other guards immediately yelled with alarm, producing their weapons, but that wasn’t before the woman produced another pistol of her own and shot another man through the head, the shot ringing out sharply through the night.
Varna grimaced.
“Well, we know she’s willing to use her ammunition, and-”
She pulled out a third pistol and shot a guard with a pike at this point. Edam looked at Varna, dumbfounded and confused, staring down at the three dead bodies and the woman who was now producing a fourth pistol. The fourth man, luckily for him, ducked the shot and charged the man. A straggler screamed from somewhere out of sight – not hit, but afraid. Something was wrong.
They were in the open, using their guns wantonly. They weren’t moving to fight towards the target, but lying in wait as all the people scattered away from them. Whatever was in that guard posting down the street, they weren’t interested in it.
“This is a distraction,” said Edam, disgusted, “All this for a distraction.”
She knew they couldn’t intervene. Even if they won the fight, the rest of the guards in the city were closing in on the spot now. It would be suicide for both of them. The man took the cane and pulled on its end, revealing its true purpose. It was a small sheathe, and from it came a long, heavy-looking blade; the result was somewhere between a full spear and a sword with an exceptionally long handle. He used it to lazily hack at the man’s arm, nearly removing it at the elbow. He screamed and the woman produced the fifth and sixth pistol to shoot him and the sole remaining survivor. The shots rang out into the night, and yelling seemed to come from all around. To complete the point, the man knelt down and took a whistle from the dead guard, blowing on it repeatedly. The woman nodded and pulled out yet another pistol – six behind her discarded on the ground like trash – and fired it at the sky. Bright sparks and smoke joined the burgeoning edges of night.
“If they’re here, they’re drawing people away from their real target. We need to get to where Ana is.”
Heresiarch 