The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2) (18 page)

 
Almost around the turn of the dirt road,
she saw men in uniform. They strolled rather than marched, so she slowed her
steps, even though they were probably headed to the same place she was. It had
been a bit of a shock to realize how much people in Levapur relied on the
Ponongese for their food; worrisome, maybe, if one believed that the
Thampurians were somehow self-sufficient on this island. She knew many
Thampurians who spouted such nonsense. Ponongese cooked their meals and cleaned
their houses. Ponongese carried and fetched and bowed and served here because
no Thampurian would be caught dead doing such things in Levapur, even though
almost all servants in Thampur were Thampurian. Besides, where was the loss of
face in having Ponongese servants? It just proved that everyone was in their
proper social order.

She hoped they had fish at their market. She’d heard that
the Ponongese fishermen weren’t allowed down to the harbor, but she believed
that somehow they would find a way to take out their rickety little fleet.
Ponongese always had some way around Thampurian rules. She also needed fruit
and vegetables.

Ma’am Thun wasn’t a woman given to cursing – out loud
– so her nose pinched as she realized she’d have to carry her purchases
back to town. Carry packages! She’d heard rumors there was a Ponongese trail
along the rim of the Jupoli Gorge, but wasn’t it bad enough that she had to
venture into Old Levapur? Did she really have to follow some native game trail
back home if she hired a boy to tote her shopping?

Her growing scowl was for Governor Turyat. He was to blame
for this mess. While they’d never spoken, she would certainly make sure to have
a word with him now. She’d march up the steps to the government building, sweep
past his secretary, and politely yet firmly tell him to kindly desist in his
actions. There were only so many indignities she was willing to suffer.

She froze as she heard a scream. In the jungle, it was hard
to tell which direction sounds came from, but she was certain it had come from
ahead. There were more screams, as if a great many people had suddenly been
surprised by pain. She spun on her heel and quickly walked toward the town
square, never once glancing behind her, because whatever was going on was
really none of her business.

With a little huff of disgust, she decided she’d just have
to eat pork for dinner.

 

~ ~ ~

 

In the years he’d lived on Ponong, Voorus could count the
number of times he’d been in Old Levapur on one hand. He didn’t even have to
use his thumb. The slum made him uneasy. All those snake eyes watching him, as
people leaned silently in the doorways of their shacks or squatted in groups
put a knot in his gut. He didn’t want to go there now that there was so much
tension between the Ponongese and Thampurians, but the goods in the Thampurian
shops were so ridiculously expensive compared to what the Ponongese charged,
and many of the shops had bare shelves. Thankfully, several other members of
the colonial militia also had shopping to do. Hopefully, the sight of their
uniforms would be enough to keep the Ponongese in line. He wasn’t sure how long
that would last.

He and his men strolled toward Old Levapur. It was one of
those bright, hot afternoons where the humid air seemed to push against every
step like a strong wind. The jungle lurked on the edge of the road. He felt
sometimes that if he looked away for a second, it crept closer. They passed a
tree covered with iridescent blue butterflies.

“There’d better be a market when we get there,” a lieutenant
said as he swatted away a vortex of gnats that swirled past his face. “I’d hate
to think we walked all this way for no reason.

“The Ponongese all said there would be one,” another soldier
said.

“Have you ever noticed how they say the exact same thing
when they tell you news? It’s like they memorize it.”

Voorus nodded. For a brief moment, his suspicions flared.
The Ponongese could be luring his men into a trap. Just as quickly, he
dismissed the thought. As long as he’d been in Levapur, he’d heard the Ponongese
parrot each other’s news word for word, without deviation. At first he’d
thought it funny, but by now he was used to it. It was just their way. Besides,
it wasn’t as if anyone had invited the Thampurians to shop at the new Ponongese
market.

“Has anyone asked
the governor why he closed the regular marketplace to the Ponongese?” the
lieutenant asked.

“I’ve tried,” Voorus
said. “He hasn’t been in his office all day, and he’s refusing callers at
home.”

“Go to the Dragon
Pearl. He’s there at least three nights a week.”

One of the soldiers
snickered. “If you were married to his wife –”

A sharp scream
jolted them. Voorus looked to his men and nodded sharply. They came together in
formation and drew their batons. By the time they heard the following screams,
they were already running toward Old Levapur.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The story teller was
at RhiLan’s favorite part of the tale when a man shouted in Thampurian, “You
are ordered to disperse! This assembly is illegal. Anyone who doesn’t leave
immediately will be arrested!”

Confused, RhiLan rose. Thampurian soldiers surrounded the
little marketplace. Without another word, they stepped forward and started
swinging long, black batons. A fishmonger fell as blood spurted from his
temple. People screamed and ran, but the soldiers blocked the road.

RhiLan picked up RhiTeek. Her frightened daughter wrapped
her skinny legs around RhiLan’s waist and buried her face into her
shoulder.
 
RhiLan gripped RhiLiet’s
hand. Her middle son fell as people shoved past them. She called out for her man
but couldn’t see him in the crowd. The soldiers beat people who curled up on
the ground, their hands over their heads.

She screamed his name. Her voice mingled with the other
screams of terror.

RhiLiet tripped as he helped his brother up.

“Run! Upslope!” RhiLan yelled.

The panicked mob
shoved and pushed her as she fought her way upslope. She yanked RhiLiet along
and hoped he had a good grip on his brother. At times she was crushed so
tightly between people that her feet didn’t touch the ground, although the mob
carried her forward. The breath was crushed from her lungs. She fought her
rising panic. Her sweaty hand gripped her son’s hand tightly. If she let go, he
would be lost, and they’d be trampled.

The stampede carried her to the ridge above the Jupoli Gorge.
They followed the running crowd along the narrow footpath. She heard the Pha
River rushing below. If one of them fell through the thick plants growing along
the ridge, they’d never survive.

Why? she wondered. Why would anyone do such a horrible thing?

Behind her, she still heard the screams and wails of the
people being beaten. Tears ran down her cheeks.

I’ve abandoned my man.
I got away with my children and left the others behind.
She felt a sudden
burst of sympathy for QuiTai and her cousin.
This is how it must have felt to run from Cay Rhi. How do they live
with their guilt?

She wondered how she would live with hers.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Where the road
widened, Voorus first saw the bright yellow of a stall’s awning. Then he saw
one of the new soldiers, his arm rising high and coming down again and again
while something brown and orange writhed at his feet. The screams were
horrible, like the anguished cries of prisoners taken to the private cells in
the fortress.

“Stop! Halt this
moment!” Voorus yelled.

The soldier straightened and looked directly at him. Though
blood splattered his face, he showed no emotion.

As the soldiers stopped beating the people, Ponongese fled.
The sharp screams had turned to moans and pleading. The orange soil was dark
with blood and the air was already ripe with the stink of it. Voorus could
barely focus long enough to count the wounded or dead. There were at least four
Ponongese who had seen their last sunset.

Voorus pointed to the nearest soldier. “By what right do you
attack these people? What have they done?”

The ot
her
soldiers drew together. There were thirty of them and only six colonial militia
men. Voorus was too angry to care about the overwhelming odds. He wanted to
spew his breakfast across the road, but he had to take charge of the situation.
“Tell me!” he shouted. “Who ordered you to do this?”

The new soldiers formed a block and sauntered down the road
toward the town square.

Voorus knew tears of rage flowed freely from his eyes. He’d
never wanted to kill another man before.

“Should we follow them?” The lieutenant’s voice cracked.

Voorus saw a young Ponongese girl standing twenty feet away.
She didn’t seem harmed, but she didn’t move. She simply stared at the bleeding
people on the ground. When he took a step toward her, she screamed.

“Oh, no, honey, it
wasn’t me,” Voorus crooned to her. “It wasn’t me.” He knew he was pleading with
a child, but he couldn’t bear the way she looked at him.

Her screams rent the
air as he reached for her.

A Ponongese woman
with a bloody face ran from the door of an ugly pink apartment building to the
girl. She hugged the child until the ear-piercing screams muffled against her
belly. The child’s shoulders shook as she sobbed in great, gulping breaths. The
woman gestured for Voorus to step back while she spoke gibberish.

The lieutenant
grabbed his arm. “Sir, we should go.”

“What is she saying?” Voorus spun around. “Do any of you
speak Ponongese?” Why didn’t she speak Thampurian?

“She says we should leave, now,” the lieutenant said.

“But we –”

The woman was still talking. She gestured toward the road
more emphatically. Voorus stepped back as she moved toward him.

“She says others may come soon, and they might think we’re
the soldiers who did this. She said to go before they come. Or, at least, I
think that’s what she means. She’s talking too fast,” the lieutenant said.

Voorus didn’t know how to explain their innocence. He could
barely tell one Ponongese from another. How could she possibly believe that he
wasn’t the same as the other Thampurians in uniform? He’d feared that the Devil’s
whore would inflame rebellion; he’d never imagined that Thampurians would be
the ones to spark it.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” Voorus gestured to the people
on the ground then to the girl she held. “Tell the child I said that,” he told
the lieutenant.

The lieutenant drew back in outrage. “Sir!”

Voorus realized what
he’d said. Right or wrong, the Thampurians had to present a unified face to the
Ponongese. Siding with the snakes was unthinkable. “Don’t tell her that.”

“Damn right I
won’t.”

Before Cay Rhi,
everything had been so simple and straightforward. The right thing used to
always be the Thampurian way. Now it was a murky mess.

“Captain, what
should we do?” a plaintive voice whispered near his shoulder.

Voorus angrily shoved away his tears and straightened his
shoulders. By the Goddess of Mercy, he hated being a soldier. He fought for
control over his emotions. His men looked terrified. Many of them openly cried.

If only the Ponongese understood that these men had decided to
let the Devil’s Concubine and the Rhi slaves escape into the jungle. These men
were good people. They believed the same things he did, in law and order and
moral right and wrong. They were as sickened by this attack as he was, yet in
the eyes of the Ponongese, they were probably just as guilty as the ones who
had carried it out. It wasn’t fair.

How many Thampurians
in Levapur would have felt the same way he and his men did if they’d been here
or on Cay Rhi? Probably many of them. No one could say such things out loud, of
course. It would be social suicide. But did Thampurians deserve to die in the
rebellion that would surely begin now, just because they didn’t have the guts
to speak out? Who would have guessed insisting on justice for the Ponongese
would ever be a matter of life and death for a Thampurian?

He wanted to toss down his uniform jacket and go home, but
he couldn’t abandon his men; and the gods knew Levapur needed real leadership
now more than ever, because after this, there would be no stopping the
violence.

A man on the ground rolled on his side and coughed up blood.
Curious Ponongese were coming out of their homes on the hillside. They didn’t
seem angry, yet, but they vastly outnumbered his men.

“Let’s go; but a dignified retreat, gentlemen. We don’t want
them to think we’re running away,” Voorus said. He stepped backward while never
taking his eyes off the gathering crowd. Fear could be the death of them.

 
Chapter 12: The Return of QuiTai
 
 

“You’re
going to
leave us?” RhiHanya blocked the apartment door so QuiTai couldn’t
leave. “Didn’t you hear what RhiLan said?”

QuiTai knelt before
RhiLan and took the woman’s hands into hers. “I will put my informants to work
looking for your man,” she said gently. RhiLan nodded, although QuiTai wasn’t
sure if her hostess was really listening. She glanced at the terrified
children. “I will do my best,” she promised them.

Only the middle boy
responded, with the barest nod of his head.

“RhiHanya, I will
send LiHoun to you at least once a day. He will bring food.” QuiTai was deeply
worried when RhiLan didn’t react.

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