Prince of Storms by Kay Kenyon Page A

will spare him, Anzi,” Quinn said.
    â€œYes.” It was a chilling response, the tone of that yes.
    â€œYou want me to say why,” Quinn said.
    â€œI know why.”
    Was she thinking of Johanna again? Why did everyone think that he was governed by the personal? And why should Johanna be personal to him, in that way?
    But since Lord Inweer now stood before him, there was no time for conversation. He only said, “I think it’s the right thing.”
    Zhiya leaned in toward him. “I’ll ask him to approach.”
    â€œNo, Zhiya, I’ll go down.” It was only a few steps.
    She clucked her tongue, but said nothing as he rose and met Inweer on the level plaza.
    He moved directly to the point. “If you stay, there will be rules and constraints.”
    â€œFree is best. I might chafe at constraints.”
    â€œThen chafe. But I will have security, Lord Inweer.”
    â€œTell me your conditions.”
    â€œYou will have a prison.”
    Inweer heard this, then glanced toward the crossing point, as though gauging whether it was better just to have done with it.
    Quinn went on. “A prison. But a mobile one. You will have a ship, but the ship will monitor where you go and when. And it will report to me. AndBreund will go with you, wherever you go. All this is contingent upon your being of service to me in case of need. That’s what I can offer you. Nothing more.”
    â€œYou have no such ship.”
    â€œThe Jinda ceb will provide it.”
    â€œHnn.” He looked toward the peaked hut. “The Jinda ceb.” His look held a quite startling malice.
    â€œFor three hundred days,” Quinn went on. “Then I’ll decide whether you can be of service to me or not. And if you stay at that time, you will divulge where Johanna is.”
    Inweer regarded him. “No restrictions on where I might go.”
    â€œNot to Ahnenhoon.”
    â€œI would see what manner of ship this is.”
    â€œGood. We will show you as soon as it’s ready.” Whenever the Jinda ceb could provide it. Tindivir had not said how long it would take.
    Inweer made a nod in acknowledgment, and then, as the crowd murmured in surprise, he walked back toward the Palatine Hill.
    Quinn turned back to his viewing stand, meeting Zhiya’s incredulous look. Next to her, Tai, unreadable. Anzi didn’t look at him. He felt that, and painfully.
    He knew what she thought: that Inweer hated them and would make a dangerous enemy. Quinn couldn’t articulate to himself why he thought this wasn’t so. But late last ebb, he had awakened and known what he would do.
    The decision came as a relief, almost as though he had been directed by a wiser part of himself, one that wasn’t paralyzed by distrust and the unfamiliar land of vicious politics.
    Despite his counselors being unanimously against it, he felt certain.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    In times of peace, feed your generals. In times of war, feed your Inyx.
    â€”from Tun Mu’s Annals of War
    CLOUDS OF DUST BOILED BEHIND THE I NYX MOUNTS as they reached for ground, propelled by their riders’ shouts and the frenzy of competition. Sen Ni and Riod held back, saving a burst for last. At their side until the last few moments had been Akay-Wat on Gevka and Takko on Ogai. Were they afraid to pull ahead, holding back to give Sen Ni a win after her long absence? If so, they had grown soft!
    She challenged the riders: Don’t let us win! Ride till your hearts burst! Riod listened and flung her words out to the melee, his blood hot, his thoughts all for the race.
    Arrowing in from the side came a new contender, shouldering away Takko. It was Mo Ti, ever the strongest rider in camp. The only mount that could hold him, Tarnya, thundered down on Riod’s position. Akay-Wat saw him too, and they challenged each other for the second position, galloping in companionable contest, before Akay-Wat finally fell back.
    Now it was Sen Ni