Chapter 19

“What purpose to this return of the Ghura,” Adana asked. She made no move to cover her breasts as she sat up and leaned against the headboard. Zuri found their beauty arresting still, even though he had lavished his attention on them only a few minutes ago.

“Is this what you call pillow talk?” Zuri asked, not making any effort to dodge the hand that cuffed him. “If pain and suffering exist, it must be acknowledged and addressed. You cannot claim to know a person until you know what pains them. What is painful to you, do not do to others. God is a given and no one may lay claim to divine knowledge. Accept the creation as a gift, and your acknowledgment obligates you to protect and nurture the gift, lest you mar its beauty.”

“A little different than what the Guras preach,” Adana said. “You also did not set a price in coin, so unlike the Gura way. How will you sustain yourself?”

“The Folk practice these ways,” Zuri said. “They sustain the Ghura of their own free will. Since I left Kaosa, I have never lacked for anything.”

“God does not determine our ways?”

“I have no knowledge either way,” Zuri said. “I am obligated to act as I understand pain and suffering exists.”

“If pain and suffering exist, should we not be plumbing the depths to discover God’s intent,” Adana asked.

“Ghura have existed for thousands of years,” Zuri said. “The question is not about God, but about the human attempt to gain control over God’s creation. Saving the world is not much different than trying to rule the world, as one recent sage taught me. You have certain gifts, talents and strengths, and you have the choice of how you apply them. Choose wisely, Adana, and you will live the Ghura way whether you knew it was the Ghura way or not.”

“I did alleviate your suffering by bringing you to my bed,” she said. “You had a long-suffering case of blue balls, as you yourself said.”

Zuri chuckled. “It was not my blue balls that you cured, dear lady. You quelled my loneliness and banished my fear of being the perpetual outsider.”

“O my, you are sharing your real pain with me,” Adana said. She scrunched down onto the sheets again. Does this mean our liaison is something more than a romp in the bed?”

“Two days have passed and neither of us has strayed too far from the bedroom,” Zuri pointed out. “You have a business to run, and I have a civilization to resurrect. Nonetheless, we don’t seem able to leave each other’s orbit.”

“When a certain appendage pokes me in the thigh, I seem to lose all sense of time and propriety,” Adana said. “I blame you.”

“I accept the blame,” Zuri said, rolling out of bed and stretching. “Whatever are we to do?”

“Get dressed and go face the day, I would say. The Governor, his lackeys really, have not come looking for an explanation, but I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.”

Zuri’s countenance turned serious. “I have an appointment with the Governor today, whether he knows it or not. I will address any issues you may have at the time. I promise not to mention your name.”

“You? You think you can get an appointment with the Governor? How so, dear sir?”

“An appointment is a bit of a misdirection,” Zuri said. “The Ghura have a tradition of, uh, speaking truths to the powers that be.”

“Alright,” Adana said, adjusting her bodice. “If you can’t speak straight to me, don’t bother talking. Do you have a history speaking with these people? How do you know the history from fifty generations ago? I may have been fucked into oblivion, but you didn’t fuck me stupid.”

“I’m well aware of your smarts; it’s one of the things about you I find most attractive,” Zuri said with a sigh. “There are Ghura things that I can’t discuss, even with my lover. I apologize if I was bragging, but the Governor is my agenda for the day.”

“Apology accepted,” Adana said. “Lover. I like the sound of that. On the other hand, you need some practice in minding your manners and being considerate of others.”

“A long time has passed since I was last engaged with Kingdom-civilized company,” Zuri said. “I don’t apologize for that, but I do request your understanding. I’ve got this power and this huge responsibility, and where I fit most comfortably is with people who hate how the Kingdom is run. Those without a voice are natural allies because I was one of them. The sweet, honeyed trap of condemning the Kingdom and its people to hell is so tempting, so easy. The trappings of blatant hatred of the merchant and monied classes are effortless to drape upon one’s shoulders like fancy furs. The hatred and the blanket condemnation are misplaced and wrong, but I find them as easy to utter as falling into bed. You are my antidote.”

“You explain yourself well,” Adana said. “We will see if what rolls off your silver tongue turns into wine or vinegar.”

“Where do you think the Governor is sitting at this moment of the morning? Zuri asked.

“He is not a morning person, preferring a good dose of the strong stuff before turning in the night,” she said. “He is not a happy man.”

“This is the city of Kaosa, the city of chaos,” Zuri said. “The founders built it to concentrate as much misery in one place as possible. I have no idea who these builders were, but their work was masterful and long-lasting. The more power you have, the more pain you endure in Kaosa.”

Adana fluffed her skirts before sitting down. “My parents brought me here when I was child. I’ve lived in Kaosa most of my life. You’ve been here a few days and already you understand this city better than me? What you say makes sense, but the chaos and power are bound together?”

Zuri gave her a hard look. “Why have you never hired any of the Folk to work at your hostelry?”

“I cannot trust the lot of them. I see only drug addicts, gang members, whores, and drunks when I walk these streets.”

“You are correct. The Folk exile all these people to Kaosa deliberately. Even more, the merchants who gave me a seat in their Duran-based caravan explained that the worst of the Kingdom fleeing their crimes, or their past find a bed in Kaosa,” Zuri said. “Not in Qirin though, only in Kaosa. You could probably walk the backroads of Qirin alone as a single woman without terrible concern for your safety, except for the eastern road to Duran lands.”

“O good Lord,” Adana said, bringing her fingers to her lips. “Kaosa was constructed to be repellent?”

Zuri smiled. “I hope to change that today and that is the offer I have for the Governor. Please excuse me.”

Zuri detached himself from the morning shadow against the wall of the Governor’s palace. The building looked grand only in comparison to the poor buildings surrounding the palace. Compared to mansions and palaces of other provincial capitals, Kaosa was a backward sliding, flea-bitten excuse for a government. The wall was still tall though and he could see barbs on top that would discourage would-be thieves.

The gate of welded metal bars was locked but there were no guards in view. Zuri was not a lockpicker, never had the patience to learn the craft. Instead, he fired up his staff and took a position to smash into the lock with all his strength. Two strikes and his shoulders were smarting, but the gate swung open. He bound the gate closed again with a piece of twine, a quick and easy deception.