Shai nodded. After a glance toward the silent Cornflower, he put on trousers and his best silk knee-length jacket and walked over to the awning where Captain Anji sat on a three-legged stool, on a rug, studying a scroll. A low camp table inlaid with alternating strips of ebony wood and ash-blond wood sat before the officer; a narrow, cushioned divan about an arm's length long stood to his right, with two stools folded up and leaning against it. A black flag trimmed with gold streamers fluttered from each corner of the awning. Two soldiers stood to either side, arms folded, surveying the camp. They tracked Shai's arrival with flat gazes as the captain looked up.
"Sit down," he said. "My men will bring food."
One of the men opened up a stool, so Shai sat down. "Where is Mai?" he asked.
The old village had about a dozen structures remaining, all built out of mud brick and mostly intact except for the roofs. Captain Anji's escort numbered over one hundred soldiers and two dozen grooms and hired men, together with the slaves who accompanied Mai. The soldiers had set up an outer perimeter, with their precious horses clustered in the innermost protected area of the village and the captain's awning and rug beyond that. The old well and two crumbling houses stood directly to his west. Listening, Shai heard Mai speaking to Priya from within the sheltering walls of one of the those houses, where his niece had sought privacy.
Maybe the Qin didn't allow women to eat with men. Better not to ask. He hoped his question hadn't been taken as an insult. The Qin were notoriously easy to insult.
Captain Anji's chief of staff arrived and opened a stool for himself. He was ten or fifteen years older than Anji-well into middle age-and the two men had an easy relationship; even their arguments gave them pleasure.
"I still don't like it, Anjihosh. The road is flat enough and there'll be moonlight late. We could have made it the entire way. Out here-ghosts, bandits, sandstorms, scorpions, demons, witches. Leopards. There could be anything."
Anji scanned the darkening village with narrowed eyes. "No ghosts, anyway, Tuvi-lo," he said so casually that Shai's heart stuttered and seemed to skip a beat. No ghosts? "If we got in late, the horses and bearers wouldn't get a full night's rest. They'll need it at this stage, to get accustomed to the travel. I want them well rested. They'll need strength to manage the worst part of the journey."
"So you say." Chief Tuvi rose from his stool abruptly as Mai halted at the edge of the rug. She looked calm and composed. Priya waited behind her.
Anji stood, took Mai's hand in his, and led her to the divan, a queenly seat, certainly, and far more comfortable than the men's utilitarian stools. He released her; she sat; Chief Tuvi whistled, and four young Qin soldiers-tailmen, all-came forward with platters of dried fruit, yoghurt, and strips of sizzling meat just now roasted over a campfire.
Shai waited for the captain to begin the conversation, but they ate in silence until the platters were empty. Only when hot da was handed round in painted bowls did the captain speak.
"You have traveled well, Mai'ili?" he asked.
She nodded, glanced at Shai, and after a sip at the sharp da ventured a few words. "My heart is the only part of me that is bruised, Captain. It is difficult to leave your family behind."
"So it is," he agreed. "Is it well that your uncle Shai accompanies you?"
"It is well." She bit her lower lip, took in a breath as she glanced at Chief Tuvi, and tried again. "Will we always camp like this? What can be expected?"
He had a steady gaze, kept on her but not intrusive and greedy, more watchful. "Mostly we will stay at posting houses, which have corrals for livestock and some fortification. We should have traveled farther today, but I don't want to push the horses and bearers at this stage. We'll have to take some night journeys once we reach the borderlands."
Mai laughed suddenly. Her laugh could charm water out of sand. "I had my chest packed, but my mother and aunts insisted on repacking it. There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry we left so late. I know you came at dawn. Would we have reached a posting station if we'd left earlier?"
Anji exchanged a glance with Chief Tuvi. "We would have. No matter, Mai. The Qin have a saying: When the river changes its course, get out of the way or drown. This is not the first time my plans did not go exactly as expected."
Mai blushed abruptly, responding to a certain passionate tremor in his voice, to his ardent gaze, and she looked away from him. No doubt she was afraid.
Shai cleared his throat and groped for a topic of conversation to draw attention off of her. "Have you made this particular journey many times, Captain Anji? You seem to know the way well."
"Only once, and that traveling west," said the captain. "But every troop such as mine takes scouts. They're soldiers trained to know the routes and water holes and landmarks along every road our armies travel. Chief Tuvi has been this way before."
"So I have," said Tuvi, an entire world of implication flowering in three words.
"May we know where we are going?" asked Shai, feeling bolder as the conversation unfolded so amiably. "Where we are traveling so far?"
"No. Not now." Anji's tone did not invite further questions on the topic.
There was an awkward silence, broken by Mai. "How could you only have traveled once, and that west? The Qin come from the west. You would have to have gone east and come back."
"Ah," said the captain with a pleased smile. "You have caught out the flaw in my story." He offered the barest nod to Chief Tuvi, whose answering frown seemed resigned and amused.
Mai had a most charming way of looking puzzled, eyebrows drawn together, cherry lips pressed together winsomely. Much of her beauty was her lack of self-consciousness. Other beautiful women could not compare because they arranged their faces to suit the needs of their audience. "Will you explain it to me, or is it something I'm not meant to know?"
"Not now. Uncle Shai, have you traveled well?"
"I am a little sore," he said, rubbing his thighs.
"It will be worse tomorrow," said Chief Tuvi with a laugh. "But you stuck it out well for a flatfoot."
"You must learn to ride as well, Mai'ili," said the captain. "The palanquin slows us down, but it was expected by your family."
"Learn to ride? A horse?" She stared at him. "But that's forbidden! There was a man in Kartu Town who was hanged for riding."
"So there was, but you and your uncle are under my command now. I need you to learn to ride."
"Do Qin women ride?" Shai asked.
Anji's smile had a pleasant tilt. He seemed an easygoing man in some ways, and yet Shai did not think he was. "They do. My mother taught me to ride. It is a mother's duty to teach her children to ride. When we have sons, Mai'ili, you must be the one to teach them, not me."
She put a hand to her mouth and glanced toward the palanquin, racked across parallel rows of fallen stones to keep it off the ground for the night. The twilight shadowed her expression, but Shai guessed that she was frightened, thinking of what normally passed between man and woman on their wedding night.
"Ah. "Anji raised his forefinger. Chief Tuvi set his da bowl on the table and retreated, strolling out into camp. "Uncle Shai, stay please." He rose and went into the dusk.
Priya crept forward and knelt at Mai's feet. Mai clutched her hand and wiped away a tear, and the slave whispered into Mai's ear words Shai couldn't hear.
"Is it wrong of me to be frightened, Shai?" Her voice was so steady, but her hands, gripping Priya's, shook. "How will he treat me? I'm afraid, but I know I have to endure whatever happens. He is my master now. I will not shame Father Mei and our clan."