Great Chief

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Honored President,” Yanko said, “would you consider developing Kelnorean jointly? We could set up a unique government with leaders from both our nations, leaders with equal power, and open it up for settlement, exploration, farming, and mining.”

  “Farming? I’ve seen our scientists’ descriptions.”

  “I intend to develop it over the years into an agricultural paradise. My passion has always been earth magic, and with what we understand now of farming and gardening, it should be possible to create a fertile land in time.”

  Starcrest sat in one of the seats—Dak and Tynlee had already flopped down on a sofa and were murmuring comments to each other. Yanko, realizing he should have invited the president to sit, perched on a chair across from him. The servant returned with six other servants, arms laden with trays, and they dispensed beverages and sweet and savory rice balls wrapped in taga leaves.

  “After speaking with General Aldercrest and Admiral Ravencrest, I thought you would propose that we split the continent down the middle,” President Starcrest admitted when the servants backed to discreet corners. “That seemed fair, and I was prepared to accept.”

  “I could foresee that leading to hostilities, raids across the border, a permanent us-versus-them mentality from those who colonize the area. I’d prefer not to encourage feuds.” Especially, Yanko added silently, since his first settlers would be pirates. “A joint government and a land developed in tandem seems like it has more potential to foster peace between our two nations. And I see no reason that the Kyattese couldn’t be invited to join too.”

  “Hm.” Starcrest leaned back in his seat and looked at Dak.

  You’re impressing him, Tynlee said telepathically, winking at Yanko.

  How can you tell? I can’t read his mind.

  I’ve been mind-snooping far longer than you’ve been alive. Tynlee shed her shoes and folded her legs cross-legged on the sofa.

  Are you sure he’s not simply relieved to have someone in charge over here who has no interest in war?

  That’s a possibility too. She winked again.

  “It’s an interesting idea,” Starcrest said. “Normally, I’d object to the cost of developing such a large piece of land, but it sounds like the ore could make it profitable enough to cover the expenditure of importing terraforming equipment and materials.”

  “I should think so,” Yanko said. “I’ve already found the small amount of gold I retrieved useful.”

  Jhali snorted. It was her first time speaking—or coming close to it. Even if they weren’t exactly mage and bodyguard any longer, she still stood with her back to the wall so she could watch the whole room. Yanko smiled warmly at her.

  “Then I agree to your proposal, Yanko.” Starcrest leaned out of his seat and extended his arm for a Turgonian handclasp.

  Yanko stared at it before realizing they were already agreeing on a deal. He’d expected the negotiations to be far more difficult. He glanced at Tynlee, since it seemed she would be the one to sense if Starcrest intended any treachery or deceit. She had shifted herself sideways on the couch to lean against some pillows—and rest her bare feet against Dak’s thigh. He’d let his arm fall to drape over them, as if promising a foot rub later. Tynlee smiled at Starcrest’s offer and nodded at Yanko.

  Yanko accepted the handshake, trying to figure out how to bow at the same time, since that was how deals were finalized in Nuria.

  “Thank you, Honored President.”

  “Please call me Rias.” Starcrest sat back down.

  “Or Banana Shirt,” Dak said, appearing more comfortable in his skin again. “As his feathered friends do.”

  The glare Starcrest—Rias—shot him wasn’t convincingly baleful. Rias looked back and forth from Tynlee, his eyebrows only arching slightly at her bare feet, to Dak.

  “For some reason, Tikaya thought you might like to be stationed here for a while, as a liaison and observer,” Rias said. “I couldn’t imagine you’d want to live among Nurians any longer, but I’m beginning to suspect she had some intelligence that I didn’t.”

  “Doesn’t she usually?” Dak asked.

  Rias grunted. “Yes.” He waved to them. “Is there a wedding on the horizon?”

  Dak looked at Tynlee, who wiggled her toes against his leg.

  “Maybe eventually,” he said. “Why, do you think it would help cement a cordial relationship between Nuria and Turgonia?”

  “I think it’s Dak’s relationship with Yanko that’s done the most to foment cordialness between Nuria and Turgonia,” Tynlee said.

  “I will miss having him as a bodyguard,” Yanko admitted when they all looked at him. “It’s hard to find people who are talented warriors and also too busy being dour and grumpy to be cocky about it.”

  Rias smiled for the first time.

  Dak glared at Yanko, then glanced at Jhali. “You seem to attract bodyguards like that.”

  “Jhali isn’t dour and grumpy. She’s professional and appealingly aloof.”

  Jhali folded her arms over her chest.

  “Oh?” Dak asked. “I thought we were fairly similar. Why am I considered dour instead of appealingly aloof?”

  Tynlee laid a hand on his forearm. “It’s the eye, love. Yanko finds it intimidating. Have you ever considered an eyepatch?”

  Dak turned his glare on her. Judging by her smile, she wasn’t intimidated.

  Bonus Epilogue

  I originally wrote this second scene as part of the epilogue, thinking the characters needed a little more closure before I wrapped up the series and said goodbye to them. My beta readers were split on whether it was necessary or if things should end with the ceremony and Yanko’s meeting with Rias. (By the way, if you came to Chains of Honor before encountering my Emperor’s Edge series and the two novels Encrypted and Decrypted, you can check those out to meet Rias, Tikaya, Sicarius, Amaranthe, and others before the events of this series.)

  I wasn’t sure myself, so I thought about making this next scene a separate bonus for newsletter subscribers, but then lots of people would end up missing it or downloading it today and losing track of it in the future. So, I’ve included the extra scene in the manuscript here. If you feel the story was sufficiently wrapped up and you don’t need more with the characters, you can stop now. If you want a few more pages, then please keep rolling.

  Either way, I hope you enjoyed the books. Thank you for reading!

  Yanko grinned as he plunged his hands into the fresh soil. It had been strange having someone deliver it in crates to his walled-in courtyard, but he hadn’t received as odd a look as an earlier delivery had earned. That had involved crates filled with sludgy rock, sand, silt, and seaweed dug up from the harbor. He couldn’t precisely replicate the terrain of the new continent, but in huge, log-framed planting beds, he was doing his best to recreate the ground there. Once the beds fully dried, he would experiment with ways to remove the salt from the earth and create fertile soil. Anything he learned here, he would send along to the team he’d chosen to spearhead the development of the continent.

  Kei chirped now and then from a nearby perch. Yanko had expected the parrot to go home with “Banana Shirt” Starcrest, who’d mentioned he would stop at Kyatt to visit his children on the way back, but Kei hadn’t followed him to his steamer, despite Yanko’s attempt to convey the information telepathically.

  Yanko didn’t mind the feathered company though. He suspected it would be good to have someone who regularly beat him in the head with his wings. It would keep him from growing overly pompous and conceited. Or so he hoped. He did worry that the position would change him and that he would turn into one of the arrogant moksu mages that Jhali disliked so much.

  “Are Great Chiefs supposed to play in the dirt?” Lakeo’s voice floated across the courtyard.

  “I think they get to do whatever they want with dirt,” Arayevo said. “What I’m wondering is if we have to bow to him now? Or prostrate ourselves and knock our foreheads against the ground. That used to
be the standard greeting, according to the stories. And then we would have to wait for him to touch our shoulder in acknowledgment so we could rise. If he didn’t, we would have to stay in place.”

  “He’s not touching me with those muddy hands. Look, there’s seaweed stuck to his robe.”

  Yanko plucked the offending strand of kelp off his hip as Lakeo and Arayevo weaved through the raised garden beds, accompanied by a servant—Yondru—who managed an expressionless face as well as any mage hunter. He was the most senior of the more than twenty-five palace servants who had returned when the dust settled, humbly asking for their jobs back. Yanko was doing his best to learn all their names. He didn’t know if he would ever feel comfortable being served. He’d already told them that he didn’t need any help in the bath, thank you very much. His grandmother would have laughed her head off if she’d lived to see someone standing by the tub offering to scrub his backside.

  “Hello, Lakeo and Arayevo.” Yanko wiped his dirty palms on his robe.

  Yondru’s lips twitched. He produced a handkerchief and rushed over and wiped off Yanko’s hands.

  “Does he do that in the toilet too?” Lakeo asked.

  “No.” Yanko did his best to keep his cheeks from warming. Surely, he was old enough and powerful enough now not to be embarrassed by Lakeo’s humor. “I was about to say it’s good to see you, but… Arayevo, it’s good to see you.”

  “Thank you, Yanko.” She winked and bowed.

  Lakeo folded her arms over her chest and glared.

  “It is a little odd that we needed to make an appointment to do so,” Arayevo added.

  “I had to make an appointment to play in the garden.” Yanko glanced toward the sky. The sun had set, and it would be dark soon. He’d had to make his appointment at the end of the day, after ten other appointments. “My secretary assures me that the life of a Great Chief must be highly structured to make the best use of his time and ensure the needs of all are met.”

  “Sounds stifling.”

  Yanko shrugged and smiled. He was getting used to it, and there were perks. Like being able to dredge the harbor in the capital city for dirt for a gardening project.

  “Arayevo, do you need anything? Are you going to stay with Pey Lu? Or do you want…” Yanko extended a hand toward the courtyard and waved to indicate the world beyond. “A job? A government appointment? Land? Anything? My life may be more structured than one might prefer now, but I’m in the position to help friends, at least.”

  “I know you’ll find this hard to believe,” Arayevo said, “but I’m enjoying being a hand on your mother’s ship.”

  “Just do me a favor and don’t do anything to become a criminal, please,” Yanko said. “Or if you do, don’t get captured afterward. I’d hate to be in the position where I had to determine proper punishment, especially when my own past is so checkered.”

  “If it makes you sleep easier, I’m sure my punishment would be determined by some loyal magistrate in a coastal town far from here.”

  Yanko grimaced. “That will not make me sleep easier.”

  Arayevo grinned and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t be around Nuria for a while. Pey Lu is going to harass the Kendorian seas next. I believe she doesn’t want to make your life more complicated than it already is.”

  By the pantheon, he hadn’t even considered what would happen if his mother was captured and he was expected to pass judgment on her. It had been difficult enough convincing the palace guards and local law enforcement to leave her be when she’d come to see Yanko wreathed. It had helped that little had been sorted out by then and nobody had officially been in charge of either division.

  “That’s supposed to make you look heartened, not more worried,” Arayevo said.

  “Yanko doesn’t know how not to worry,” Lakeo said.

  “This is true.”

  Yanko managed a smile. “Just take care of yourself, please.”

  “I’ll do my best. And you do the same. Don’t let anyone assassinate you.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  Arayevo stepped back, and Lakeo took a deep breath and came closer. A bracing breath? Was she nervous about something? Yanko couldn’t imagine it.

  “Yanko, I want to go to the Kyatt Islands and attend their university. I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter that much and that I’d learn magic on my own, but it matters. I think I would enjoy it there if I could get a second chance.” She licked her lips. “Will you give me an official letter with the Great Chief’s stamp that could—I don’t know. Fix things? Like ask them to take me even though I made a mistake with their books. I wish I still had them so I could return them, but maybe if I offer to pay for them…”

  “I can write a letter. Though it’s possible they’ll remember who I am and laugh.”

  “I don’t think it’s permitted to laugh at the Great Chief. Unless you’re his friend. And witness him making mud patties.”

  “I was amending the soil.”

  “Looked like a mud patty to me.”

  “Should you insult someone in the middle of asking for a favor?” Yanko asked.

  “That wasn’t an insult. It was an observation. Look, Yanko. I’d also like to take you up on the offer you’re giving all the pirates who helped you. A piece of land on the new continent. Preferably one with gold on it. And without lakes of poisonous plants.”

  “Picky. Are you going to live there after you finish school?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I thought I’d mine it myself and earn enough to pay my way rather than…” Lakeo shrugged. “It would just be nice to know I didn’t owe anyone any money. I’d like to start my life over and do things right. If you could make something of yourself when you started out hated by most of Nuria, maybe there’s hope for me. I’m not nearly as offensive as you are.”

  “Oh, not in the least,” Yanko said as Arayevo snorted.

  Lakeo’s shrug wasn’t apologetic.

  “You are certainly welcome to your choice of parcel of land,” Yanko said. “Maybe I’ll even give you more than I give the pirates.”

  “You’re a generous as well as wise Great Chief.” Lakeo smirked, but when she came forward and hugged him, he sensed it was sincere. “Take care of yourself,” she whispered before stepping back.

  A hint of sadness touched him as he realized that his friends were departing and that he didn’t know when he would see them again.

  “I will,” he said.

  “And don’t let Jhali stab you in the back.”

  “You know she won’t.”

  “Yeah.” Lakeo lifted a hand in parting, and she and Arayevo headed out.

  Yanko sensed Jhali waiting at the entrance to the courtyard. She nodded politely to Arayevo and Lakeo—they returned it—and though Yanko could tell they would never be good friends, he was relieved to see them treating each other civilly. And they had helped her pick out a couple of dresses for her dates with Yanko. Arayevo, he understood, had the fashion sense, but Lakeo had been paramount in pointing out places where weapons could be inconspicuously attached.

  Yanko just wished he’d gotten the sense from those dates that Jhali planned to stick around. She’d been frustratingly vague about that, and he worried that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by admitting she was leaving. She seemed certain that mage hunters weren’t appropriate matches for Great Chiefs. He didn’t know how to convince her otherwise. He’d been tempted to ask her to stay here as his bodyguard, since she’d fallen so easily into that role—and was good at it—but he didn’t want to be her employer and for there to be an awkward status difference between them. Unfortunately, he worried that would be the case now between him and everyone, or at least everyone who worried about such things. Lakeo would always tease him, he was sure.

  Jhali strolled out into the courtyard with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore loose turquoise and green silks that left a little more skin on display than her old mage-hunter garb had, but they were still flu
id enough for her to fight in. The bottoms were just short enough to display a second turquoise anklet along with the one he’d seen on her before.

  He grinned foolishly at the sight of the gift he’d sent to her earlier that week. He’d received all manner of gifts in the days after officially taking his position, and it had made him uncomfortable—he hadn’t even known any of the people sending them. The answer, he’d decided, was to give gifts to his friends.

  A gold-accented black eyepatch for Dak that Yanko knew he would never use—and a fancy new dagger that he might. Some pretty writing journals for Tynlee. A new bow for Lakeo and a cutlass for Arayevo. His family members had received, depending on their age, rice wine or sugar-crystal-coated frog candies that were ridiculously popular in the Great City—apparently, there had been riots when one of the factions had thoughtlessly destroyed one of the factories where they were made. And finally, he’d asked a jeweler to make something special and unique for Jhali using the turquoise and silver she liked. He’d suggested something with a tortoise since they’d twice had bonding—and once kissing—moments near that shrine in Yellow Delta. The jeweler had made something much more elegant than he’d envisioned.

  “Good evening, Honored Mage Hunter,” Yanko said with a bow as she approached. “Did you come to see the progress I’ve made in the garden? Or perhaps the beehives I ordered? I haven’t gone hunting for swarms yet in order to populate them—something that will be interesting since we’re in the middle of a city—but that’s the plan. Bees will be incredibly important for pollinating vegetation and trees on the new continent.”

  Jhali stopped in front of him, grasped his hands, and kissed him. “Thank you for the anklet.”

  “You’re welcome.” He squeezed her hands.

  “And I’ve already seen your bee boxes. I didn’t know what they were and feared they might be explosives, so I inspected them personally when they came in the door.”