Outlanders

Chapter 17: The Emperor

On the march to the next outpost, Qasikay's gaiety was completely gone. She did not hum or sing, and she did not breathe a word in either language. The outlanders heard her sniffing heavily, but she would not them see that she was crying.

Farther inland, the fog began to clear away, and the beautiful frozen sky above shone on the windswept rocky shelves. To Qasikay, everything looked as it had all her life.

They reached the next safehouse with a third of the day remaining. They rested there, then, at Qasikay's insistence, they slogged on to the next one. After a few hours, the sun set behind the mountains, lighting the skies aflame against the grand peaks.

At the safehouse, only a few of the children bothered to eat. The rest simply unfurled the cots and collapsed onto them.

The next morning, Qasikay ate in bitter silence, and the other adults knew better than to say anything. The children whispered among themselves.

"Momma?" piped up Jordaki. "How far is it until we get there?"

"I don't know, dear," said Eva. "It should be a long time."

"Nine days exactly," said Qasikay. "If we do not slow down."

When Qasikay finished eating, she took a jar of chicha and tipped it up to her lips, letting the liquid slide down her throat in big gulps. Seven seconds later, she showed no sign of stopping.

"Easy on the drink, Qassie," said Astrapi.

"You don't know!" Qasikay screamed, slamming down the jar. "You don't know how it feels to have home yanked out from beneath you!"

"Ya I do."

Qasikay glared at him, silently demanding an explanation.

"I'm from Yužna in the eastern peninsula," said Astrapi. "I don't know if you've ever been there, but it's a mess of little city-states, always fighting with each other. Every couple of decades, one of them goes down. Five years ago, it was my homeland's turn."

Qasikay's wet eyes widened.

"My dad was a member of the hoplite rear guard," he went on. "His battalion was one of the last casualties before we lost the war. My family got on a ship heading for the eastern shore, and that was the last I saw of Yužna. Mom and my little sister found work building castles for some warlord, and I became a bounty hunter. If I ever go back to where I grew up, I won't be able to recognize it. I'll be an outlander."

Qasikay's face fell. "You lost? Your home took- I mean, they took your home?"

"They pounded it into the dirt. My homeland is dead, dead and dead. Lucky for me, I'm not."

"But what for? What did you have left to live for?"

"And you left your family..." Zoltána gasped.

Astrapi shrugged. "It wasn't the flag I fought under that made me who I was. It was... for me, it was the ideals I fought for. Back home, I wanted to become a judge, because I was sick of watching tricksters cheating people and getting away with it. I didn't get the job, but I did get my wish. Here I am, fighting back against people trying steal land that's not theirs."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying not to worry. Even if we fail- and we won't- it won't mean the end of the world. There's a good chance you'll survive, and so will a lot of your friends. That's all it takes for a way of life to survive."

"But I fight for the empire," said Qasikay, "not for my way of life."

"Alright, let me put it this way: nothing lasts forever, right? Power and kings and queens all come and go. But ideals don't die. Do you have an ideal, Qasikay?"