An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  “My ancestors built…” Yeshin began.

  “Spare me the details,” Sume murmured. “You still haven’t explained a thing.”

  “How could I?” Yeshin asked, looking unsettled. “I wanted you to see for yourself. You’d think me mad, otherwise.”

  She bit her tongue, declining to tell him that it was too late, and followed his gaze to the hole. It was hidden by rubble and a thick, black slime that bubbled as she passed by. She felt her throat tighten. Even as she struggled to reel herself in, she decided to press forward, peeking into the darkness while her heart hammered against her chest.

  She saw the dragon turn to her, an enormous, single eye whirling to face her.

  Despite Yeshin’s warning, she screamed.

  It started like an itch in her veins, the kind that went up her eyeballs and into her brain. She heard voices: her brother’s, she recognized, and then another that sounded like Dai.

  She felt fear: that same, dark, shuddering fear that consumed her the night she birthed her daughter, the same, writhing panic when she looked into the dark, trusting eyes. She had wanted to drop the infant and run screaming. Unseen forces had stilled her arms. Choking back that fear had been the hardest thing, like greeting a murderer’s swinging knife with a smile on your face.

  Now it was there, and now it was gone. And now she was sitting in Mhagaza’s bed, wondering what was to come, and then she was making love to Kefier and wondering why, after everything, she hadn’t learned a thing at all. What pride, little Kaggawa, daughter of a hero and a lady with such royal blood? You are just like the rest of them, maggoty human, and when the rest of you is gone, the only thing that will remain is how low you crawled to get by…

  Her eyes snapped open. She was back in the room near the kitchens, and Yeshin was sitting on his knees in front of her, staring at her with bloodshot eyes.

  “You are brave,” he said, blinking. “I daren’t sleep with it close by. It’s trapped in there, far as I can tell, but I don’t know for how long.”

  She coughed. Yeshin got up, but someone else said, “I have it,” and she realized that another hand—one that didn’t smell of corpses—was reaching up to her with a glass of water. She took it and drank before she found the courage to look up.

  Relief flooded into her. Rysaran winked at her before pressing a single finger to his lips. “This lowly traveller was just passing by,” he said, glancing sideways at Yeshin. “With all the chaos about in town, I just had to see.”

  “A crack in the wall,” Yeshin snuffed. “Two strangers, but none of my people. Too obedient to their master. Dogs, the lot of them…”

  “When did you arrive?” she asked.

  “Early this morning. It must be noon by now. You ah—have been sleeping for the better part of last evening until now, or so according to Warlord Yeshin.”

  “Warlord Yeshin,” Yeshin repeated, snorting. “Lord of nothing. Ah! My sons…” And gripping his knees, he lowered his head.

  Rysaran bit his lip and glanced at her. “Are you well, cousin?” he asked.

  “Tired,” she said, laying her head back. Flashes of her dreams over the whole night crawled back into her. She wanted to vomit, but she must’ve done it often enough through the night that none came out. The veins in her neck hurt, though.

  Rysaran was quiet for a moment. “I must ask you to come back with me,” he said, at length.

  “Back where?” she asked, before it dawned on her. “Back there? Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Yeshin snorted. “Or mad. You saw what it did to her.”

  Rysaran looked troubled, but he didn’t look away, either, and regarded her with a calm look. “We won’t be able to make a decision until I see it for myself.”

  “What decision?” Yeshin snapped. Rysaran didn’t look at him and paced, his hands clasped behind his back. It was a habit of his whenever there was something pressing on his mind; Sume had seen enough of it over the past few years. Eventually, he stopped, glancing at Yeshin.

  “The decision with what to do with that beast,” he murmured under his breath, like he was afraid someone would hear.

  But Yeshin heard. It seemed as if the man still had more grasp of his senses than he let on. He got to his feet and faced the smaller man.

  “Why is this your decision to make?” he spat. “Last I recall, I was Warlord of Oren-yaro, not you.”

  “Lord of nothing, you said.”

  Yeshin narrowed his eyes. “All I have to do is open the gates…”

  “And let your people into the keep, to be devoured by this creature? You are, as I recall, a more intelligent man than that.”

  Yeshin swallowed. “I know you.”

  Rysaran bowed. “It is my own fault that you didn’t any sooner.”

  “You show up now? You little shit—!” He reached out and grabbed Rysaran by the collar.

  Sume pulled at his shoulder in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he seemed to change his mind just as quickly and spat a second time instead. “Your father was a desperate man, Ikessar. He should’ve put one of your sisters on the throne.”

  “They would’ve done a better job,” Rysaran agreed. “But he couldn’t. It’s done. We’re here now.”

  “In the shadow of my keep’s ruins and my children’s blood. Never in history will there be a more loathsome king as you.”

  “Not a king yet,” Rysaran interjected.

  Yeshin looked at him for half a second before dropping his head back to laugh. It was a madman’s laughter, screeching and rising in halts. Sume, realizing there was more to this conversation than she had known, drew back, but there was nowhere to go.

  “So this was all you!” Yeshin said, when he caught his breath. “I knew it! I should’ve known…!”

  “I don’t understand,” Sume broke in.

  Yeshin glanced at her. “He sent you here to check up on me, didn’t he?” He didn’t wait for her reply and pressed his fingers between his eyes. “Oh, my ancestors. Curse the day you bent your knees to the Ikessars. Curse you in all your farted glories.”

  “It’s done now,” Rysaran repeated, his voice rising more than was customary.

  “Your prince there asked for a group of my men to help intercept a caravan illegally travelling through the northern border. Traditionally, protecting the north was the Ikessar clan’s job, but Oren-yaro’s army is larger and we were only too happy to oblige. The caravan was unusually guarded by a large retinue of mercenaries, who drew swords on my men before they could initiate any sort of conversation. It turns out that the caravan contained a steel box, which the men couldn’t pry open no matter how hard they tried.”

  “You weren’t supposed to take it back here.” Rysaran’s voice was the closest to being angry that Sume had ever heard it. Though he remained deathly calm, there was an edge to his tone. “All your message said was that it was taken care of. No mention of this thing. I could have your head for that.”

  “So take it!” Yeshin growled. “Take it, for all the good it will do you! Because I see it now, you bloated runt, you wanted us to take the damn thing. Your precious dragon was in it and you wanted to see how much damage it was capable of without sacrificing Ikessar property.”

  “After all these years, this is still all you can think of?” Rysaran drew a deep breath before turning to Sume. “I knew what the caravan was transporting, I won’t deny that. A part of me did want to see if Oren-yaro would dare hide this from me. I was right, wasn’t I? I didn’t know it would come to this. That Warlord Yeshin would be so foolish…”

  Yeshin slapped him.

  Rysaran’s face burned red. “I’ll forgive you for that. You are dealing with much loss, which I regret. I did not know. But you kept this from me. You had to get a Kag witch to undo the spells around the box, which would not have been easy to do. This is as much your fault as mine.”

  “Go,” Yeshin said, sitting down. “Take the damn thing. Get your crown. It’s what you wanted all these years, isn’t it? Th
e reason you let the land rot between famine and civil wars and foreign intrusion because you were too busy running around trying to play hero. You have your dragon now. Go, Dragonlord, before I run my sword through your throat.”

  Rysaran bowed and without another word stepped through the door. Sume followed him, but she kept her distance from him on the way back in an effort to wrap her thoughts around the events. In her mind, she saw Yeshin acting behind Rysaran’s back to undo the creature’s cage and unknowingly releasing it in the midst of his people. Now it was somehow trapped—by accident or on purpose, she couldn’t tell, but Yeshin was able to barricade the gates to prevent anyone else from coming in.

  “I owe you an explanation,” Rysaran told her, pausing to let her catch up.

  “You’re the Dragonlord,” she murmured. “You don’t.”

  She didn’t really believe her own words and shivered a little. She wanted herself to want to come home to her daughter in Shirrokaru, but her fevered dreams remained a ghostly weight in her mind and the very thought made her want to retch again.

  He rubbed his fingers over his smooth chin. “I will give it, nevertheless. It is a long-held Jin-Sayeng tradition that a man cannot be crowned Dragonlord until he rides a dragon.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “Then you know why I’ve refused myself crowned all these years. I have always believed that breaking that tradition is a big part of the reason Jin-Sayeng had been falling apart. A king who is not respected…”

  “Then he has it right.”

  Rysaran nodded. “To put it simply.”

  “You have one big problem,” she said. “I don’t think this thing is a dragon.”

  He waved a dismissive hand over his face. “There have been rumours of one near the northern border for a long time, which is why I’ve chosen to spend much time there until the events of five years ago. The one that ended with the destruction of the famed towers in Enji. This creature was responsible—this as much as I could gather after the fact. My understanding is that a rich merchant from the Kag was able to capture it and kept it locked away somewhere. When I received reports that they were moving to transport it, well…they were going to march right through the pass that Yeshin’s Fourth Brigade was guarding. How was I to miss such an opportunity?”

  “You’re not listening to me. I said I don’t think this thing is a dragon,” Sume repeated.

  Rysaran looked at her. “You realize I don’t have a choice, right?”

  “More than most,” she said. “This thing has driven Yeshin mad. Nearly drove me mad. It tore through this keep—which in its day held many dragons without a problem. You want to look at it? Alone, with only an unarmed woman by your side?”

  She could see Rysaran’s mind begin to turn. He wasn’t, for all his naivety, an unintelligent man.

  “It seems safe and snug in there,” she continued. “Maybe we can leave it there for now and focus on getting food out to the people first. Fix Yeshin up. Get Sagar in here, and a dozen soldiers or more. Do you want to start your reign acting like this is the only thing that mattered to you?”

  He took a long, indrawn breath. “This is why I keep you around,” he said, cracking a smile.

  She didn’t return the gesture. She bowed a little, but already the man was more boy, and less king, in her mind.

  Chapter Ten

  The nights were long in Cael. Kefier had not seen enough of the central Kag to know, for sure, but he had long decided it had something to do with the weather. Rain-streaked skies and grey clouds could do that.

  The local populace didn’t seem to care. Cael City thrived at night. It was, Kefier had come to understand, a mere shadow of the hustle and bustle of Tilarthan, but the whole city seemed to come alive around the half-dozen theatres and poetry halls scattered throughout its center. Here, stonemasons became critics, builders turned into wine connoisseurs, and merchants mingled as easily with politicians as with bartenders.

  Or at least that was how it seemed to him. He had been exploring the city for days for lack of better things to do—he was not needed during Kirosha’s lessons and he didn’t like the servants gathering around him and pretending they weren’t concerned when he put his fingerprints on things. It started with a quick trip down to a part of the city he remembered, in an effort to track down Lillah Artek. But she was no longer living in that building and the landlord wouldn’t tell him where she’d gone.

  He could see what Enosh saw in this place. This world was too different. Their own father himself had been enchanted with the Kag culture; there had been a stack of journals he’d left in the little library in Sen’senal curtailing his observations, from which Enosh used to read out loud. Not for the first time, Kefier wished he’d read them. He had tried, before, but…

  A thought occurred to him. Kirosha could try. Young though she was, she was already a better reader than him, and it wouldn’t take long for her to pick up the older-style Kagosh language that was spoken in parts of Northern Hafed and much of Dageis. She was already speaking more Kagtar, showing that gift for languages she inherited from Meirosh.

  He suddenly wanted to make that trip to Gorent now more than ever. Meirosh’s granddaughter deserved more than this—whatever this was. Yn Garr’s paltry offering of an education, in exchange for what? He had never said, but Kefier had seen enough of the world to know that everything came at a price. Enosh was gone. He was certain that Yn Garr intended for Kirosha to take his place, even if he wasn’t sure what that meant. He was also convinced that Yn Garr had no intention of ever letting them take a ship back to Jin-Sayeng anytime soon. Sume would have to come to them, or not see her daughter at all.

  He grew tired of the streets and took the now-familiar path back to the mansion. Yn Garr’s dog was waiting for him by the gate. He tugged at the latch and stood still while his pockets were assaulted. Afterwards, bereft of a few dumplings, he made his way inside. Halfway up the flight of stairs, he heard a crash.

  He had grown so used to the silence in Yn Garr’s household that he had to stop and consider that. A door upstairs creaked open. Lisa stepped out, head half-bowed. She looked at him, but didn’t say anything until he started towards that same door.

  “I wouldn’t,” she murmured. “The master’s worked himself up in a temper again.”

  He didn’t reply. He had not talked to her at all the past few weeks and he wasn’t about to start now. He walked past her and pushed the door open in time to see Yn Garr begin hurling insults at the wall.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

  Yn Garr closed his mouth and turned to him.

  “What,” Yn Garr started, “by Yohak’s rotting balls are you doing here?”

  “You ‘invited’ us, remember?”

  “This isn’t the time,” Jarche whispered behind him.

  “It never is. This is the first time since we’ve arrived that I knew where to find him. About Rosha—”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Yn Garr snarled. He turned to Jarche. “I am surrounded by fools. Incompetents.”

  “We don’t know yet what truly happened. For all we know, that army simply…”

  “There is no reason why a warlord would suddenly take interest in anything a Kag was doing. And in that part of Jin-Sayeng? No, Jarche, somebody betrayed us. Someone who knew the right people, who could get them to listen.”

  “I’m still not sure what you’re saying,” Jarche said, wetting her lips.

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? Someone with power. Someone from that group of miscreants we’ve been forced to use over and over again.”

  Jarche’s face remained impassive, but her skin twitched above her eyebrow. “Baeddan is your friend.”

  “Is he really?”

  “You own a good part of the Boarshind and you’ve directly funded more than half of their commissions over the past few years. What would he gain from betraying you?”

  “The chance to make more money than he had in years? Like you s
aid, Jarche, I own part of them. I know what their ledgers look like. I just didn’t realize he would stoop so low as to partner up with a Jin-Sayeng warlord.” He glanced at Kefier. “You,” he said. “You were of the Boarshind.”

  “Glad you remembered.”

  “I know more than you think I do. You killed one of his generals, didn’t you? The old, wheezy one.”

  He said nothing. There was something in the man’s tone that reminded him of his own dog outside, snuffling through his pockets. Yn Garr had caught wind of something and he wasn’t about to let go.

  Yn Garr cleared his throat. “I think you came here to discuss your niece’s situation. Jarche tells me her studies are off to a good start.”

  “She still has her mother, a family that loves her.”

  “And she is welcome to return to them anytime she wants,” Yn Garr said, in a tone that made it clear that she wasn’t. He smiled, and Kefier felt his heart break at the thought that his brother chose this man over everything else.

  He crossed his arms. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

  Yn Garr’s face brightened. “So you aren’t an idiot. I was almost hoping—”

  “We’re not going to get anywhere if you insult me now. So tell me.”

  Yn Garr glanced at Jarche. She coughed and walked away, shutting the door behind her.

  It was, in a way—considering who he was, and what he had done with his life—a simple enough request.

  “Why would you leave me?” the child had asked Kefier, when he told her he had to go. She had been calm, though her voice had an edge to it. She looked too much like her mother when she was angry. It had unnerved him more than it should. It would have been easier for him if she had cried.

  He pushed aside the stew of chicken and biscuit, which was overly salted, and stood up. Arlisa dabbed at her lips with a napkin and glanced at him.

  “Is everything—” Lisa began.

  “Indigestion,” Kefier said, for the benefit of whoever else was listening, though the mess hall was nearly empty as it was. He didn’t think they were, in any case; they had boarded the ship as a married couple, and no one had asked questions beyond that. He dropped his spoon and walked out of the door into the cold night.