up in rows along the shore, held at sword point. They were told their fates hadn’t yet been decided, that the Republican leadership was debating overnight on whether or not to kill them.
Jinzha intended to let the civilians pass the night unsure of whether they would live until the sun rose.
In the morning, he would announce to the crowd that he had received orders from Arlong. The Dragon Warlord had meditated on their fates. He recognized that it was no fault of their own that they were misled into resistance by their corrupt leaders, seduced by an Empress who no longer served them. He realized this decision was not made by these honest, common people. He would be merciful.
He would put the decision in the hands of the people.
He would have them vote.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Kitay asked.
“They’re proselytizing,” Rin said. “Spreading the good word of the Maker.”
“Doesn’t seem like fantastic timing.”
“I suppose they have to take a captive audience when they can get it.”
They sat cross-legged on the shore in the Kingfisher’s shadow, watching as the Gray Company’s missionaries made their way through the clumps of huddled civilians. They were too far away for Rin to hear what they were saying, but every now and then she saw a missionary kneel down next to several miserable civilians, put his hands on their shoulders even as they flinched away, and speak what was unmistakably a prayer.
“I hope they’re talking in Nikara,” said Kitay. “Otherwise they’ll sound ominous as hell.”
“I don’t think it matters if they are.” Rin found it hard not to feel a sense of guilty pleasure watching the crowds shrinking from the missionaries, despite the Hesperians’ best efforts.
Kitay passed her a stick of dried fish. “Hungry?”
“Thanks.” She took the fish, worked her teeth around the tail, and jerked off a bite.
There was an art to eating the salted mayau fish that made up the majority of their rations. She had to chew it up just so to make it soft enough that she could extract the meat from around the bones and spit out the spindly things. Too little chewing and the bones lacerated her throat; too much and the fish lost all flavor.
Salted mayau was a clever army food. It took so long to eat that by the time Rin was finished, no matter how little she’d actually consumed, she felt full on salt and saliva.
“Have you seen their penises?” Kitay asked.
Rin nearly spat out her fish. “What?”
He gestured with his hands. “Hesperian men are supposed to be much, ah, bigger than Nikara men. Salkhi said so.”
“How would Salkhi know?”
“How do you think?” Kitay waggled his eyebrows. “Admit it, you’ve thought about it.”
She shuddered. “Not if you paid me.”
“Have you seen General Tarcquet? He’s massive. I bet he—”
“Don’t be disgusting,” she snapped. “They’re horrible. And they smell awful. They’re . . . I don’t know, it’s like something curdled.”
“It’s because they drink cow’s milk, I think. All that dairy is screwing with their systems.”
“I just thought they weren’t showering.”
“You’re one to talk. Have you gotten a whiff of yourself recently?”
“Hold on.” Rin pointed across the river. “Look over there.”
Some of the civilian women had started screaming at a missionary. The missionary stepped hastily away, hands out in a nonthreatening position, but the women didn’t stop shrieking until he’d retreated all the way down the beach.
Kitay gave a low whistle. “That’s going well.”
“I wonder what they’re saying to them,” Rin said.
“‘Our Maker is great and powerful,’” he said pompously. “‘Pray with us and you shall never go hungry again.’”
“‘All wars will be stopped.’”
“‘All enemies will fall down dead, smitten by the Maker’s great hand.’”
“‘Peace will cover the realm and the demon gods will be banished to hell.’” Rin hugged her knees to her chest as she watched the missionary stand on the beach, seeking out another cluster of civilians to terrify. “You’d think they’d just leave us well enough alone.”
Hesperian religion wasn’t new to the Empire. At the height of his reign, the Red Emperor had frequently received emissaries from the churches of the west. Scholars of the church took up residence in his court at Sinegard and entertained the Emperor with their astronomical predictions, star charts, and nifty inventions. Then the Red Emperor died, the coddled scholars were persecuted by jealous court officials, and the missionaries were expelled from the continent for centuries.
The Hesperians had made intermittent efforts to come back, of course. They’d almost succeeded during the first invasion. But now the common Nikara