This is the twenty-fourth chapter of Wealthgiver, an alternate history serial romance about nationalism and cave-Thracians. For the back-of-the-book description and an index of chapters, click here. For the beginning, click here. For the previous chapter, click here.
No candles were lit in the bedroom. The fire was hidden inside the stove and shutters were drawn over the windows, but still Kori stood upon the Earth. Only a ceiling protected her and Andrei.
She watched him move as he undressed, soft gray against black. He pinched the cuff of one hand with the fingers of the other and squeezed his shoulders together, pulling. Each movement was strange and precious because it was his and he was hers, but Kori tried to imagine her rescue at those hands, and she couldn't.
"A heating stove," he said. "How modern. Don't have to wear my coat to bed. Compliment Dragomir." He put his hand over his mouth. "Tomorrow."
Kori curled her bare toes in the shaggy wool of the carpet. There were people she knew in Vienna who could transport her and Andrei across oceans. But neither California, nor New Zealand would be out of the Good's reach. Out of the reach of Nikolai.
The future rang with painful clarity. Nikolai would bleed the nation dry in his search for her. He would kill Andrei, recapture Kori, and remake the Sacred Depths into a hell around her.
"Andrei?"
He turned at the sound of her voice.
"Why did you escape?"
Andrei straightened and cleared his throat. "Why…I was called to you in a dream, of course."
The darkness knows. Kori was relieved he still remembered, but the information she wanted could just as well fall into the ears of their eavesdroppers. "I mean, why did you escape the Russian army?"
"Oh. Why did I desert." Wool scraped wool as he returned to the task of undressing. "That was because they ordered me to kill a patient who knew too much." A huff, as if in offense at a sarcastic comment, although Kori had said nothing. "Yes, of course I know I left my patient behind, and somebody else certainly killed him." The air swished as he gestured. "And yes! I do wonder what the devil the point of any of it was supposed to be. Only my hands, at least, are a little cleaner."
Kori didn't think that was fair of him. "What else could you have done?"
"Beat the Russian army." He chuckled darkly. "As my high priest evidently intends."
Kori stepped forward to put her hand over his mouth, but Andrei caught her in a hug. "Come here."
"I am here." She caught herself giggling. "No, I wanted to talk to you about that."
"Do you really, darling? Whisper sweetly plans of Empire in my little ear? Go ahead."
"I wanted to talk about the logic you brought into the conversation."
"I thought someone had to."
She brought her hand up between. "You still don't understand. I've told you that light blinds. Nikolai has told you."
He chuckled. "Nikolai is insane."
She smacked his face. "That is no way to speak of the head of your cult."
Andrei straightened, head rising up and away from hers. But his voice was amused as he responded. "And that is no way to take a doctor's diagnosis. I rescued you from him. If Nikolai wants to conquer the Balkans so badly, let him get in line behind all the other scheming Boyars."
"If Nikolai is misguided, then you are the one who must guide him. You must guide all of us."
"Hm." Andrei seemed to consider that for a moment, then chuckled as if at a joke that only he could hear. "Hm! There's a question."
"What question?"
"You asked why I deserted the army. Why did you kidnap me?"
Kori considered what the eavesdroppers might hear, and what Andrei might be thinking. "I brought you into the Depths because of my prophesy."
He pulled her closer. "Not because you needed a doctor?" He bent down to kiss her. "Not because you had a romantic preference for passionate foreigners?"
"How could I know that you were…?" She lost track of her words.
"A foreigner?" He growled into her neck. "Or passionate."
"Because I need…we need! To come out from the shadows. It's why I pulled you into — " She caught her breath.
He kissed her more insistently.
Kori struggled to find his hands so she could write on them. "Wait," she gasped. "More to talk about."
"Tomorrow." Andrei nipped her with his teeth, hands ranging down and around.
For a moment, their synchronized breath paused and the echoes vanished. They might have been resting in a cavern of infinite size. The endless depth that lay below the Earth. The endless height that lay above the Moon.
Then they breathed out and sound hissed off the walls, the carpets and carved icons, washbasin and wardrobe and the piles of clothes they'd left on the floor. The bed ran the length of the wall opposite the fireplace, piled with duvets and rough woolen blankets. Kori burrowed into it as if into a cave, and pressed herself against Andrei. He was much warmer than the stove.
***
Captain Cenk shaved with his eyes closed.
"Spent a lot of time in the Sacred Depths, have you?" Andrei asked.
Dragomir's townhouse boasted a small garden, quilted with primroses and enclosed in the local style by walls the height of the building's first story. Green buds swelled on the upraised twigs of pear and apple trees, and sap dripped the cut ends of the grape vines that covered the pergola.
The garden was also home to a drinking fountain, before which Andrei and Cenk stood with their soap and razor. The fountain looked appropriately oriental at first glance, but to the fingers and ears, it gave a more chthonic impression. Its stone lip had been intricately grooved in a way that produced pleasing echoes, and if one ran a hand along the vines and flowers, one would feel scales.
Cenk turned his face and scraped his razor down his cheeks, eyes still shut. "All of us receive priest training."
"All of you spies?"
"'Field agents,' I think would be a better translation." Cenk's smile lifted his mustache out of the way. "I remember when they let me out after my initiation. I shouted at the sky just like you did, Master."
It took him longer to find a woman, though.
Andrei rubbed his soapy hands over his beard again.
"Why were you the only one to meet us on the Mountain?" asked Andrei. "I thought the spring equinox was a big festival for the Good."
"It's traditional for the man playing the Guide of Souls to escort the Maiden down to Peshtera," said Cenk. "Usually it's at the head of a procession of all the pilgrims who came to stay in the Depths, but, My Master, you ordered everyone to give you privacy."
Andrei understood now why he had been unable to enjoy waking up with Kori. She'd been called out of bed before sunrise to meet the delayed pilgrims. Andrei was sure there would be some ceremonial nonsense for him to endure before they set off for Tatar Pazardjik. But who was to say they would ever make it to that destination?
It would be just as he planned for himself. They'd head west, lose themselves in the chaos of Serbia and Montenegro. Either they would eventually come to the border of Austria-Hungary, or there would be another treaty and the land under them would become part of Austria-Hungary. And every night of that escape, Andrei would spend with Kori.
His main impediment would be Cenk.
"How many 'field agents' are there with soldier experience?" Andrei asked.
Cenk brushed his razor over and around his chin. "A third, maybe? Others go into government or business."
"The church?"
A chuckle. "All the churches."
"You're not telling me the Patriarch secretly worships Pluto?"
Cenk shook the lather from his razor and said, "We never pose as priests or caliphs or rabbis. What would be the point? But all holy men need secretaries, clerks, treasurers."
Andrei tried to imagine a handful of bureaucrats rising to conquer Southeastern Europe. Once again, he failed. "Surely you know how important loyalty is in an army, Captain. Can a gang of lying, spying poisoners ever trust each other to kill and die for their comrades?"
"Of course, My Master! We are the Good. We only steal from Fools."
"I see. And what is your opinion of this Hadean Empire idea?"
"It will be an opportunity one way or another." Cenk ran a hand over his face and nodded with satisfaction. "Done."
"It looks perfectly regimental," said Andrei. "And all done without a mirror."
"Thank you, My Master." Cenk opened his eyes and put his razor away.
Andrei splashed water on his face, considering his next move. "Captain, what do you envision we do once we arrive in Tatar Pazardjik?"
"Water the horses. And I'm sure I'll be in the mood for some tea and a good meal, as well. See my family. Do you have a family, My Master?"
Andrei paused in his rinsing. A drop of fluid fell from the severed tip of a grape vine.
He'd just tried to find out the spy's plans: will you force me to lead your war? Cenk's response had been: will you run away to mama and papa?"
"I don't have much family," he said. "My mother died giving birth to my youngest brother and my father had some kind of attack four winters ago. I never could find out exactly what killed him. Possibly a burst blood vessel in the brain. They said it was quick."
"I'm sorry, My Master. His shade is with…you, now."
Andrei splashed himself. The water was cold, but good. "My younger brother died at sea. Lieutenant in the navy. He was crushed by falling cargo. Which just leaves me and my youngest brother. He's a monk and so lost to the world as well."
"Three brothers?" asked Cenk. "I see."
Andrei had wondered whether to misdirect the spy with stories of a large and powerful clan waiting to avenge him, but it seemed the truth had worked better to shake the Cave-Thracian's confidence. Andrei had never thought of it before now, but Hades' brothers had ruled respectively the seas and the heavens.
"Towel?" he asked.
When Cenk returned with one, Andrei had his next test ready.
"And now, Captain, for my pistol and saber."
Cenk met his eyes. "I'm sure these can be found, My Master."
So, despite all that about the Good trusting each other, Cenk didn't. He had hoped Andrei wouldn't ask for weapons of his own.
He couldn't refuse, however, and nor did he try to trick Andrei with a gun that wouldn't fire. The pistol he gave Andrei was small and light, made efficiently in an American factory. When Andrei fired it, it blew the tip off Dragomir's pear tree.
"Good," Andrei said, once he could hear again. "Did you steal these from the Sultan or do the Good have a hand in Washington, too?"
Cenk only smirked at him.
Andrei carefully slid the gun into its holster. "Does a field agent spend much time on the battlefield?"
The spy's smile became even smaller and more honest. "I haven't just been playing at being a soldier all these years, My Master."
"Killing for the Good?" asked Andrei. "What about dying for them?"
Cenk smoothed down his mustache, face serious now. "If those are my orders."
Andrei understood the message. You're the commander. On your head be it.
The worst a doctor could do was kill someone. The worst an officer could do was much greater. How much worse then, to be a king? To be the god of death?
Andrei buckled on the belt with its holster and sheath.
Tatar Pazardjik. Once they were in Tatar Pazardjik, Andrei and Kori could lose the horseman and melt into a merchant's caravan. Cenk was still looking at him.
"Um," said Andrei. "Let's not let things come to that. I'll find a way to make a nation, uh, peacefully."
Fight this war without killing anybody?
Pretending to be a god pretending to be a commander, Andrei clapped Cenk on the shoulder. Cenk accepted the pretense. Or, at least, he seemed to.
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