The Marksmen, for their part, seemed impervious to the cold glances and occasional mutters aimed at them. Perhaps they were used to it, but Kyra felt a stab of indignation on their behalf.
If anyone had the right to bear the Order of Khur a grudge, it was her. But living with the Marksmen, she had never once thought that they were the enemy, or even that different from her. Of course, she didn’t understand the way they processed emotions. And there had been that debacle with Shurik, which still hurt and angered her to think of.
But on the whole, she had got along with the Marksmen just fine. She even liked most of them—okay, no one could like Ishtul, but he was an elder and elders didn’t count. The only person she had disliked at Khur was Astinsai, and Astinsai was a woman.
Why were the other Orders ill at ease with Khur? Could it be that the Markswomen were afraid of the Marksmen, and they hid their fear under a layer of disdain?
Unduni rapped on the floor three times with her staff. A chair had appeared behind her and a girl stood next to it with a tray, presumably for when the mediator got tired or thirsty. But for now Unduni stood, her eyes somber, her face grave.
“First, I must inform you that Shirin Mam, Mahimata of the Order of Kali, is dead.”
Murmurs and sounds of distress broke out among the people gathered in the hall. It appeared that not everyone present had heard of the passing of the old Mahimata of Kali, although they must have marked her absence at the assembly today.
“She will be missed,” continued Unduni. “A great leader, who brought several clans of Asiana under the aegis of the Kanun. May she find peace in the world beyond.”
“May she find peace,” echoed the hall.
Unduni’s voice assumed a brisk tone. “Tamsyn Turani has succeeded Shirin Mam as the Mahimata of Kali. I am sure you will join me in extending our good wishes to her for a long and peaceful reign.”
The hall was utterly silent as people took in this news. The Hand of Kali was famous in Asiana, but Kyra doubted the word peaceful had ever been used in conjunction with her name. Even Unduni looked skeptical as she said it.
Tamsyn got up and said in sweet, sorrowful tones, “I thank you, Unduni Arallin. Shirin Mam was my teacher and friend. It is a great honor to be appointed in her place, but I am not worthy. No one is worthy.”
Kyra dug her nails into her palms at the sound of Tamsyn’s voice. Time had done nothing to dilute her hatred of it. The lying hypocrite. Could no one else see through her?
It appeared Unduni could, for she said, a shade coolly, “Indeed. Moving on to my second announcement, I have great pleasure in welcoming the tribe of Vedarsa from the island of Cochy to this assembly.” She gestured with her hands, and the group of scantily clad folk Kyra had seen earlier rose from where they were squatting on the floor and gave deep bows. Everyone cheered and clapped.
Tamsyn sat down, her face betraying nothing, but Kyra could imagine how angry she was. She would already be planning some distant, long-range revenge against Unduni for not giving her the proper respect that was her due as the new Mahimata.
Unduni continued speaking, moving from one item to the next with rapid ease, pausing only to take a few sips of tea. More deaths and appointments were announced, as well as reports on the rainfall and crops produced in different regions and the volume of trade between major towns.
Finally Unduni put away the scrolls she had been consulting from time to time, and sat down with a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s all the routine items dealt with. We move on to a far more serious issue, that of outlaw activity in the Thar Desert. I ask Faran Lashail, the head of the Order of Valavan, to make her report to the assembly.”
Kyra craned her neck as Faran Lashail strode to the center of the hall and stood next to Unduni’s chair. The head of the Order of Valavan was tall and graceful, with oak-dark skin and flashing black eyes. Her hair was coiled like a serpent on her head. A katari hung around her neck, glittering aquamarine against her pristine white clothes—a sleeveless blouse cropped at the midriff, and a rectangular length of cloth wrapped around her waist like a skirt, with one end draped over her shoulder.
“Thank you, Unduni,” she said, her voice deep and musical. “I do have rather disturbing news from the Thar. It appears that the Taus, the only outlaws in Asiana armed with death-sticks, are amassing an army in the desert. We do not yet have the exact numbers, but our spies report that they are training over a thousand men to fight.”
There were gasps in the hall. Kyra crossed her arms, cold and light-headed. Was this because of her? Had her first mark set this chain of events into motion? She should have killed Kai Tau that night in the Thar when she had the chance.
No. Her mark had been Maidul, and no one else. And surely Shirin Mam would not have assigned her such a mark if she knew what they risked.
A voice called out, “To fight whom? And why?”
“Precisely what I asked myself,” said Faran. “The Taus have kept to themselves for years and I wondered why they would escalate their activities in this blatant way. Then I found out that a Markswoman of Kali had entered our territory,” and here she threw a cold look at the elders of Kali, “and executed Maidul, the eldest son of the outlaw leader Kai Tau.”
Voices rose in excited discussion and Unduni rapped the floor with her staff again. “Silence!” she said. “I ask Tamsyn Turani to speak to the hall, and explain what happened.”
Tamsyn stood up and spread her hands. “What can I say? Shirin Mam did not consult any of us in this matter, or I at least would have spoken against it. Suffice it to say that the Markswoman in question was a girl named Kyra Veer. You will remember that the clan of Veer was slaughtered by the outlaw Kai Tau and his men. It was a matter of revenge, I understand, and the girl would not rest until the Mahimata agreed to send her to the Thar. She had an inexplicable fondness for the girl, and could not refuse her.”
Kyra’s cheeks burned in anger. That was not how it had happened, and Tamsyn knew it. She was making it sound as if Kyra was some sort of a spoiled favorite of the old Mahimata.
Faran gazed at Tamsyn in an assessing way. “What’s done is done,” she said. “We must find a way to meet this threat. Kai Tau is obviously planning to attack the Orders; we are all that stand between him and absolute control of Asiana. He can wreak havoc with those kalashiks. Dozens of innocent people have already been killed—and that’s just the start.”
Kyra’s stomach clenched. People were dying and it was all her fault. She would have to find a way to defeat Kai Tau. It was no longer just a matter of vengeance for the slaughter of her clan.
“Surely we can deal with the outlaws?” came a throaty, contemptuous voice. A large, fair-haired woman rose from one of the chairs, adding, “May I speak, Unduni?”