The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  I glanced down. “That’s not being very careful.”

  He pulled away with a shadow of a smile on his lips. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow,” I murmured. “I’ll… I’ll have a horse ready for you. If anyone asks, you’re Inzali’s assistant.” I cleared my throat and got up. He looked troubled as I left.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE BARAJI CIVET

  The day we took to the road, I found myself glancing back once from the city square. I beheld the castle nestled on the slab of rock, the fringe of trees, the clouds that drifted along the mountaintop. Everything my father had bequeathed to his only child… and I felt nothing. It made me wonder what kind of daughter that made me. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful, but if they knew what I felt, the rest of Jin-Sayeng would see it that way. If the very act of trying to be a good queen meant I was a bad daughter, then so be it.

  I didn’t get to travel by saddle like I wanted and had to share a carriage with Rayyel, where I endured long hours of silence, staring at him while he perused through the books he had decided to bring along for the journey.

  “Jin-Sayeng royals have a long history of intermarriage with the Zarojo, do you know?” he asked, at length.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Where the hell are you going with this?”

  “Just a thought,” Rayyel said.

  “Is it a useful thought?”

  “I suppose not,” he conceded. “Nevertheless, your father’s rationale is not entirely unwarranted.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if you really do have a morbid sense of humour instead of just being blindingly oblivious.”

  He stroked his beard into a point. “I was… trying to comfort you. About your father’s decisions.”

  I turned away. “I’ve no need to be comforted over them. He was a ruthless man. A wolf will always be a wolf, he used to tell me; and so why should I be surprised it came down to this? You with your precise logic ought to know.” I took a deep breath. “I understand, perhaps, why he did what he did. He had betrothed me to his enemy, and he always considered your clan the weakest of all. Well—that’s a given. He wouldn’t have started his war otherwise.”

  Rai nodded. “It’s in the books.”

  “And he had no way of knowing Prince Yuebek is… as he is. I can’t fault a dead man for decisions he made during a bloody war. But I’d like to think I am capable of more. It frightens me that I might be mistaken. When I met your mother for the first time, all she could say was how I remind her of him. I don’t even look like an old man, do I?”

  “I don’t think she means anything by it.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. Yeshin had that presence. He wouldn’t have gathered so much support if he didn’t. An unforgettable friend, and an even worse enemy. Even after sixteen years, he won’t die. What do I have to do to get rid of his ghost? Why do they continue to see him and not me?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “They see what they want to see. It is easier to hate someone than to try to understand them. To turn them into something they’re not. I have made the same mistake.”

  I fell silent, realizing what he was trying to say. The sound of the wind rushed past us, interspersed with the creaking wheels underneath. Moments passed.

  “We’ve been on this road before,” Rai said, pulling aside the curtains from the window of the carriage. “It was not long after our wedding. Do you remember?”

  “I would remember if you took me to visit the Baraji.”

  “We were going to Sutan and took the long way. You wanted to see the ocean from the edge of the Bara Plateau.”

  “That sounds like something I would do.” I still had no recollection of it.

  He smiled. “We never made it. You… weren’t well.”

  “Oh.” Now I had a faint memory of feeling ill while staring at that same forest of maple trees. They were red then, too; fuller than the trees in the distance, which were nearly bare. “I suppose I found out I was carrying Thanh not long after.”

  He nodded. “Three days later, in fact.”

  “I didn’t know you kept track of these things.”

  He smoothed out his trousers to avoid looking directly at me. “I keep track of a lot of things. I do not always find the opportunity to bring them up in conversation.”

  “That tends to happen when you don’t speak at all. Still, you’ve spoken to me more these past few weeks than in all the time I’ve ever known you. Miracle of miracles.”

  His brows knotted. “I believe… that the last year has done much in making me feel more at ease in your presence. It is a touch presumptuous for me to say so, I know. And I realize there are complications to this arrangement and do not wish to dismiss your feelings on it. But to me, you are my wife. You are still my wife.”

  I felt my ears tingle as he spoke and turned my eyes away from him. His cold detachment was easier to handle than this. My upside-down world was back in order, but now it was unfamiliar, unrecognizable. I felt like a stranger in my own home.

  The carriage drew to a stop.

  “That’s odd,” Rai said. “I didn’t think we were there yet.”

  “Maybe one of the guards—”

  Before I could finish, something crashed against the carriage, sending it toppling to the side.

  I managed to brace myself. Rai tumbled to a corner with the cushions. Outside, horses screamed in panic. I grabbed my sword as I rushed to him. “Are you all right, Rai?”

  “I split my lip.” Blood ran down his chin. I wiped it with my finger and then motioned for him to stay. I turned to jump up the window.

  He grabbed my leg. “Don’t! If those are bandits…”

  “All the way out here?”

  “I’ve heard they’ve spread all throughout the last year. They’re right about the commoners taking advantage when the Dragonthrone is in turmoil.”

  “Well, I’m not going to wait for them to unwrap me from a box.” I struck the doors with my fist and pulled myself out of the carriage. One of the wheels had been ripped off, and the horses had been cut from the traces. In the distance, I could see my guards in a heated battle with intruders on horseback. I turned to the sound of a loosed rock just in time to deflect an incoming spear. A youngster, awkwardly flailing about with a weapon too heavy for him to hold properly. He must have thought I was easy prey. I struck his leg, right below the knee—not even enough to cripple him—and watched with satisfaction as he turned tail.

  Rai crawled out of the carriage just in time to see the bandit scramble away.

  “I told you to stay inside,” I said.

  “What would they think of me if I hid while my wife went to battle?”

  “They’ll sing stories until the end of time, I’m sure.”

  “Tali!” Khine called from the distance, thundering down towards us on his horse.

  “Where’s Princess Ryia?”

  “The bastards cut us from the rest,” he huffed, pulling his horse to a stop. “You think this is her doing?”

  “It can’t be,” Rai replied.

  Khine scratched the stubble on his face. “I know she’s your mother, Rai, but—”

  “Why are we on familiar terms, Lamang?”

  “Bandits are common around here,” I interrupted. “There’s more of them at the northern border of the Oren-yaro province. Rebels who don’t recognize any lord and raid royals whenever they get the chance. I need a horse.” I picked up the spear the bandit had dropped.

  Khine tugged at his horse’s reins. “You’ve barely recovered from your injuries… don’t tell me you want to fight now.”

  “I don’t think they care about that.” Truth be told, I was itching for a fight. The last two weeks had felt like a lifetime. If I could pour my anger out on a bandit or two…

  A horn trumpeted in the distance.

  I couldn’t tell how many of our attackers there were, or if our own guards were overwhelmed. Two Oren-yaro soldiers came thundering down the road. “Beloved Queen!”
they called out. One jumped from his horse. “We need to leave!”

  I grabbed the proffered reins and swung into the saddle.

  “Consider,” Rai broke in, “that they know you’re here and want to capture you. Remember what happened during Thanh’s birth.”

  “Where would we run to?” I asked. “The edge of the plateau is right behind us.”

  “Into the forest…” one of the soldiers started.

  “Deeper into unknown territory? Towards how many of them are waiting for us there? We have to fight our way out.” I lifted the spear, testing it. The muscles in that arm were sore. It had been weeks since I had battled the dragon in Kyo-orashi, but Khine was right—injury after injury made my body feel like a traitorous, lumbering creature.

  “Just along the fringes, then,” Khine said as the other soldier gave up his horse to Rayyel. “Don’t rush headlong into them.”

  I laughed. “Me? I don’t rush into things.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Rai commented.

  “An outright lie, more like,” Khine added.

  “Both of you,” I said, “can go to hell.”

  I turned the horse and drove into the cloud of smoke and dust. The bandits had chosen to attack at the narrowest part of the road. A few caught sight of us trying to sneak past and gave chase. I drove my spear into the first, catching him clean on the breast. Beside me, Khine managed to unseat a bandit.

  Somehow, we fought our way past the choke point and made it past the bridge. The land rolled sharply downhill from here, winding back towards the eastern fork of the River Agos. If we could break from the forest, we’d be able to see the city of Bara down below.

  Another horde of bandits blocked the way. I yanked my horse to a stop, sweat pouring down my face. Where were the soldiers ahead of us? Why hadn’t they turned back to assist?

  “Queen Talyien,” a bandit spat.

  “She’s here?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Where?”

  “You, ah—you’re still wearing royal robes,” Khine whispered behind me.

  “Not my crown,” I hissed back.

  The bandit pointed at me with his sword. “Capture her alive!”

  I readied my spear. But before they could even take a step towards me, another group appeared behind them. I caught the black flash of the Bara city guards’ armour. I pulled my horse back and watched as they ran through the bandits. The ones they didn’t drop on first impact were routed and fled downhill.

  A woman in armour rode towards us. “Is that all that’s left of you?”

  “We got separated,” I started. And then I paused, realizing who had just spoken. The woman. Chiha aren dar Baraji, with her red lips and full figure, and eyes you could get lost in for hours.

  My fingers twitched.

  I don’t know how it was possible for Chiha to look even more beautiful now than she did all those years ago. The bloody woman had aged. She must be over thirty now, though Akaterru knew, I had long stopped trying to learn what I could about her—her hobbies, her level of education, what she liked to eat, her least favourite way to die.

  “Unhealthy obsessions,” Arro told me once, interrupting me in the study. He pointed at the book in my hands. “If you spent all this time reading what I asked you to instead of Baraji gossip, you’d actually learn something.”

  “It’s a history book, Arro.”

  “It’s garbage pretending to be a history book. I don’t even know why your father has that in his collection.”

  “It amused him.”

  He plucked the book from my hands and slammed it shut. “The Dragonlords of Bara,” he said, reading the title out loud. “What a joke. The day those Baraji goats get the support to sit on the Dragonthrone, I’ll shave all the hair on my head and get ordained at the nearest Kibouri temple. What do you think you’re going to do with this information, anyway?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled, looking down.

  He paused. “You’ve been here two weeks and in all this time you’ve done nothing but mope and read this filth. You’re returning to the Dragon Palace soon—tell me what’s bothering you, Princess.”

  “There’s this girl,” I said at last. “Chiha.”

  “The Baraji princess? I didn’t realize her father sent her there.”

  “She and Rayyel seem… close. Really close.” I swallowed and glanced at the floor.

  Arro paused.

  “It’s nothing,” I quickly said. “I’m—I’m being fearful for no reason. My betrothed is allowed to have friends, isn’t he? Of course he is. I’m—”

  He knelt beside me with a thoughtful expression. After a few moments, he said, “You know, I’ve heard they have new puppies down at the barracks. Let’s take a break for now, shall we? Tell the captain you have my blessings.” It was the first and last time he had ever allowed me to step away from my responsibilities.

  The memory receded. I glanced at Rayyel now, who looked away with discomfort. Of course. He was always like that around her. Even back when we were students in Shirrokaru, he couldn’t be in the same room as Chiha without reacting somehow. Sometimes it was a simple cough—sometimes he would leave as soon as she walked in. Signs enough. The man claimed to love me, but it always stung that he never looked at me the same way, that he didn’t act like I took his breath away. Such feelings were beneath Yeshin’s daughter, so I endeavoured to bury them over the years.

  I was no longer that young girl, with those jealousies turning cartwheels in my head. It was strange—had it been any other woman, I would’ve happily thrown Rayyel at her. I would’ve asked her to please—please, take him, with my blessings. But I suppose we don’t really grow up even when we grow old. The mere sight of her brought back memories, the sort that sent spasms of hate from my spine up to my eyeballs.

  Arro ought to be proud of me. She came closer, and all I did was smile. “A pleasure, Lady Chiha,” I said. “You came just in time.”

  “Beloved Queen.” She took my hand and pressed it on her forehead. Her fingers were cool, her grip loose. “A scout came by with news of the attack.”

  “You didn’t see my mother?” Rai asked. “They were riding before us.”

  “They must’ve taken the other road,” Chiha said. She bowed, her face perfectly calm as she accorded him the respect befitting of his stature. “Lord Rayyel.” Her voice changed, deepening slightly.

  Lord. Not Dragonlord. It was odd for her to avoid an insult when I knew she was capable of throwing them like darts. I could still hear the sneer in her voice the last time I was down here, could still see the shadow of the amused smile on her face. Missing a husband, Queen Talyien? I remembered wanting to ask how someone could find joy in another’s sorrow, why she couldn’t see how it had turned my life into a living hell. Did she want him so much she was willing to tear my family apart? Why didn’t she fight for him the way I did?

  “That one leads straight to the city of Onni to the north,” Rai said, not returning the greeting. There seemed to be an ice wall between them. An act? If Rai hadn’t seen his mother in years, what about her? I was once so convinced they’d rekindled their relationship, I would have bet my life on it.

  Chiha gave a small smile. “Time has not been kind to you, Lord Ikessar,” she continued, answering my questions for me.

  Rai’s eyes darted to just about anything but the two of us beside him. He looked hopelessly out of his element.

  “It’ll be another hour or two for them to get back here,” I broke in, taking pity.

  “They must be backtracking to avoid the attacks,” he murmured.

  “And not send us help?”

  Rai didn’t reply. He turned to Khine. “Ride back and find them, Lamang,” he said.

  Khine’s face twitched. “I’d rather not leave the queen, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Your sister is with them. Aren’t you her assistant?”

  “She can take care of herself. It’s what’s ahead of us that I’m worried about.”

&nbs
p; “What’s ahead,” Chiha repeated with a small smile. “Who is this man? His Jinan is exceptional.”

  “A translator overstepping his bounds,” Rai commented. “I gave you an order, Lamang.”

  Khine’s eyes skipped towards me, and I caught a flare of impatience on his brow. This was a man who found the concept of royalty laughable, who considered working for a gambling lord the lowest point of his life. It felt like he was daring me to override my husband’s words. But after a moment’s hesitation, I gave a small nod. There was no point stirring trouble, especially not in front of Lushai’s daughter. Khine frowned before turning his horse around. Chiha gestured at her soldiers, and a group split from us to follow him.

  “As it were,” Chiha said, her voice rising as they disappeared around the bend. “I’m glad to have heard the news that you and our Beloved Queen have reconciled at last. The years of your separation have been rough for all of us, as I’m sure you’re well aware. I assume your coronation will be on the horizon soon?”

  “The Beloved Princess Ryia has discussed it with the council,” he replied.

  “Well, when it happens, send me an invitation. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chiha said, her hands on the pommel of her saddle.

  I wasn’t the only one trained in diplomacy. We all were. Tittering puppets in a play, acting out roles picked for us before birth. But our troubles had done their share of wearing us down over the years. We rode down to the city in silence, without bothering to exchange more pleasantries. We dismounted as soon as we arrived at the gates.

  Music greeted us on the road leading to Toriue Castle. Shirtless men with painted faces and bright-purple headbands were beating large drums in true Bara fashion, bronzed skin glistening with sweat. Various crops—plantain, eggplant, and bitter melon, among others—decorated each house like ornaments. They were strung outside the walls with coloured paper shaped into fans and flowers, which made the street look like a scene from a stained-glass window, a mosaic come to life.

  “So Prince Yuebek arrived just in time for your harvest festival,” I told Chiha.