The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  I returned the book to the shelf and made my way towards the window. The first rays of dawn were peeking over the mountain range. “The betrothal between me and Rayyel was to buy him time.”

  Ozo laughed. “Yes.”

  “Time to take over, to get power through his alliance with Yuebek.”

  “Time to fix the damages Rysaran’s dragon caused.”

  “And how, pray, is this alliance with Yuebek going to do that?”

  His lips quirked upward. “Have you forgotten, Beloved Queen, that Prince Yuebek is a mage?”

  Bits and pieces of the last few months began to gather inside of my head. I could form a picture if I wanted to. I wasn’t sure I did. I took a deep breath, pulling myself back into the chair. Finally, I glanced at Ozo’s shadowed face. “Explain.”

  “Do I need to?”

  My head was starting to hurt. “Just explain, damn you. We’re here now.”

  “The mages in Kago were apprentices. No one, so far, had been able to spare a mage who could actually do something about it. But it could be fixed, if somebody with that kind of skill and power is willing to risk their life. The question is—who would do such a thing? Not for money. What else can your father offer that’ll make someone care enough to try?”

  “A whole kingdom.”

  Ozo crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. “A whole kingdom,” he repeated. “One he couldn’t just give away, not when it wasn’t his in the first place. Not yet, at least. Not until you were on the throne. And even then, not if Prince Rayyel was crowned with you. We needed him out of the picture without starting another war.”

  The pieces expanded, turning months into years. In my mind’s eye, I saw my coronation, the day I thought was my one chance to prove to everyone—my dead father included—what I was capable of. The same day I learned Rayyel had abandoned us. I tried to remember where Ozo had been then. I could only recall the chaos.

  “Tell me,” I said, “how the hell you had hoped to accomplish that.”

  “Chiha Baraji.”

  “Gods,” I whispered. I wanted to scream it. “You played a part in that, too? My father? You said it was just Lushai! You…”

  “Lushai didn’t know we knew. We gave him hints; he seized them.”

  “You made it sound like he had done it to seize power. To have his own claim to the throne…”

  “Impossible,” Ozo said with a grimace. “A bastard sired by a bastard… no one would accept it. Lushai knew that.”

  “You went through all that trouble just to discredit my husband.” I slammed my hands on the desk. “All these years—you put the blame on me all these years, when you knew very well what you were doing! And so? So she succeeded, with a healthy son as proof of her efforts. Well played, gentlemen. But did I spoil the surprise? Was I supposed to find out what Rayyel and Chiha were up to before, or after, my wedding?”

  “After,” Ozo said. “Your stubbornness was always a problem. It was supposed to be simple. Your brothers were obedient, compliant. Your father expected the same softness from you. But surprise of surprises—you turned out just like him. The only one of his children to take after him. Yeshin was convinced the gods sent you as punishment.”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you.”

  “The whole ploy—all of it—was to give Prince Yuebek a chance to swoop in and save you,” Ozo continued in a low voice. “If Rayyel had not left the day of your coronation, we would’ve walked in there with the bastard to declare him unfit for rule. We already had the boy in our custody. But he saved us the trouble. Only—his departure left you angry, irrational; we didn’t know how to approach the idea of you remarrying, not with the way you treated every suitor that came your way. But then we caught wind of Lord Rayyel’s desire to meet with you in Anzhao…”

  “And the rest, as they say, is history.” I tapped my fingers on the desk and fell silent, staring at the polished wood surface.

  Ozo shuffled his feet. “Talyien. You have to make a decision.”

  I kept my mouth shut.

  “Talyien,” Ozo repeated, snarling. “You understand why we kept you in the dark. In the beginning, we thought we didn’t have to. But your father realized we couldn’t risk it. You would have rejected the plan outright, been convinced you knew better and could find another way. He found it hilarious, even as he warned us we would have to tweak the plan to stay ahead of you. I’m surprised we made it this far. I expected you to discover it years ago, and have all our heads for it.

  “And Yuebek’s reputation—it stank like a day-old corpse in midsummer. We knew not just his skill in the agan, but every controversy that surrounded him—his brother’s death, the way he’d manipulated himself in his own father’s court. We had to be careful. We needed him to think that your father genuinely wanted an alliance with him—that you wanted him. If you had fallen in love with him, all the better—we needed Lord Rayyel out of the picture and Prince Yuebek bound to us, bound to you, in marriage. Because the next step would be to grant him the Dragonthrone in exchange for saving Jin-Sayeng from this looming catastrophe. We need him to ride out to the Sougen and then northwest, to the mountains, to seal these holes once and for all.” He stepped towards me. “Listen to me, Talyien. You need to marry Prince Yuebek. We need him trapped.”

  “And I’m the bait,” I whispered. “My father… my father made me to be bait.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “He did,” I said. “My position does not reflect the will of the heavens in any way, after all. Yeshin the Butcher made me just like he made that throne in Oka Shto, or that crown, or the chaos that’s unfolding right in front of us. Queen Talyien is a commission of flesh and blood and bone.” I took a deep breath. “You’ve seen Yuebek. How can you ask this from me? You’d let me whore myself out—”

  “To save us all,” Ozo replied. His eyes flashed.

  “All of you brilliant minds who conjured the War of the Wolves, and this is the best you could come up with?”

  “Even Dageis couldn’t come up with a solution that didn’t involve unleashing monsters into our midst. Look at our nation, girl, and tell me if you can come up with a better plan before it’s too late. If you had just dropped everything after Rayyel abandoned you, if you had not insisted on holding on to your wretched love—”

  “You bastards,” I whispered. “You sons of bitches. My whole life was a lie. I am nothing but bait.” The word felt like a dagger to my heart.

  “Open that top drawer,” Ozo said.

  I really didn’t want to entertain him any further, but I pushed against the chair and tugged the handle open. There were loose pieces of paper and a number of leather-bound journals. I picked one up.

  “Read it.” Ozo’s voice sounded weary.

  It was an account of our day-to-day life in Oka Shto, penned in Yeshin’s hand. I didn’t understand what Ozo was trying to show me. That my father was keeping records of everything that happened in my childhood? I flipped the page. More mundane details—descriptions of the dogs in the kennel, my studies for that day. What we ate, what I spoke to him about.

  I flipped to the next page.

  I expect her to unite the land, the text said. It will be difficult, but I have made all the arrangements to ensure a smooth transition.

  “This is ridiculous,” I said, pushing the journal away. “You expect me to change my mind just because my father thinks it’s for the best?”

  “Read some more.”

  “I will not.”

  “Talyien—”

  “Fine,” I snarled, flipping to another page. “More talk of grandeur. His legacy. His gift to the land. He—” I stopped, a sentence catching my eye. The boy is not the smartest, but Ozo assures me that his devotion to her is pure. Apt, I suppose, that my general’s son would be tasked with guarding my own daughter.

  “What the fuck is this, Ozo?”

  He wiped sweat off his face. “I wanted you to understand that some of us have already made sa
crifices for this cause. My son…”

  “Your son,” I repeated.

  “Yes. Agos.”

  “Agos was your son.”

  “My greatest sacrifice,” Ozo said. “I gave him up to your father so he could keep an eye on you. You were supposed to grow up together, so that you would trust him and tell him everything. So we would know exactly how to manipulate Rayyel, what steps to take so we could get both of you where we needed you. It worked well enough. Perhaps a little too well.”

  I remembered his presence at Agos’s funeral, and the look in his eyes the day Agos died. How Hessa hated him. How Agos worshipped him like the father he never had, never knowing he was.

  They had cloaked our lives with lies, and we were supposed to thank them for it.

  I could barely recall a time when the fate of the nation seemed to rest solely upon my ability to keep a marriage intact. Now I could feel the fabric of my being dissolving right in front of me. Far from a blanket of lies, my father’s rhetoric was actually a blindfold, one that allowed them to lead me straight into the slaughterhouse.

  “Agos would’ve kept you safe from Yuebek,” Ozo said, his voice shaking. “He never knew, but he was a key part in the plan—my eyes and ears beyond what you would’ve allowed me. Being one step ahead of you… wasn’t easy. He gave us what we needed to guide you through. It wasn’t treason—as lord general, my job was to keep you safe.”

  “You keep saying we,” I murmured. “Who are we? My father is dead.” I could feel my skin tingle at the words. Even a man like Yeshin couldn’t possibly have created such an elaborate plan to be carried forth years after his death. It felt like something out of a dream.

  “I told you there was a second pact,” Ozo said. “The warlords wanted you ousted after Yeshin’s death, and we couldn’t have that—not with what we knew, and what we knew the rest of Jin-Sayeng wouldn’t believe. You know who could believe it, though? Even though we deny the agan in this nation, it doesn’t change the truth. Children with an affinity to it are born here every day.”

  “You blackmailed the nobility with those children,” I said. “People like Ojika Anyu, with his son Eikaro…”

  “Blackmail is too strong a word,” Ozo replied. “I spoke to them. I reiterated your father’s stance. Together, we can dream of a Jin-Sayeng grander than the one that came before it. We didn’t blackmail them. True, we implied that disagreeing with us would result in… complications… but that was only for the good of everyone. We promised them safety and security for their children, whom we could send to Dageis to be schooled when the war was over. We promised them power.”

  “Who else was in on it? Warlord Ojika, Warlord Lushai, Warlord San…”

  “Enough, Queen Talyien,” Ozo said. “Do you want to sit here and count the stars? Or do you want to save Jin-Sayeng?”

  “You’re pretending you made these plans for the good of the nation when all you wanted was to win your fucking war,” I said. “Tell me the truth, Ozo. Did you want Agos close to me so that after I’d been used by the madman, we could unite the land under Oren-yaro rule? You wanted power, too, didn’t you? Everyone was getting a handout for complying with Yeshin’s orders.”

  He looked startled.

  “Oh, Ozo, you foolish old man. Your scheming killed Agos, just like my father’s ambitions killed his sons, and now you want me in the funeral pyre with all of them. Who’s next—Thanh? Did I spoil that as well? Was he supposed to be your blood so you could establish your own dynasty? And the fact that he is Rayyel’s means what—that once this is over, you’ll kill him to make sure the Ikessars never rule again?”

  “You’re letting your temper get ahead of you,” Ozo growled. “I told you. It’s not that simple anymore. You attacked Prince Yuebek in the empire. You incurred his wrath. We could’ve had him here without his army. He would have been alone, bending to our will, easily manipulated, easy to kill once we were done with him.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to react? I wanted to stab the man five minutes after meeting him. If anything, I was far too patient.”

  “You’re the one trained in diplomacy, not me. But he was able to convince his father to allow him the use of his soldiers because of the insult you dealt him. Yuebek’s Boon—a scourge the empire itself considered a threat. And how many more soldiers can he gather if we openly wage war? His father favours him. He may very well have to be our king. It’s either that, or Jin-Sayeng as we know it is wiped out from within. You hold the key to our salvation, Talyien.”

  “My life. My life is the key. You want me to surrender myself to Yuebek.”

  “You keep calling yourself bait. You’re more than that. You are queen, Talyien, with or without the man! And you’ll be without him soon enough. We’re going to kill him when it’s all over.”

  “Ah, so in the meantime, I just play the willing whore?”

  “You’re the only one who can.”

  “Go to hell, Ozo,” I said.

  Someone knocked at the door. Ozo coughed. It opened, and Namra entered, head bowed.

  “You,” I whispered. “Just like the rest of them.”

  She bowed even lower. “I never lied to you, Beloved Queen. I only… omitted some details.”

  “You and everyone else,” I whispered. I tightened my hands into fists. “I’ll let you speak, and let the gods damn us both. Well, priestess? Explain your part in this before I decide to kill you, too.”

  Namra cleared her throat. “My parents fled Jin-Sayeng not long after your father’s war began. In those days, Warlord Yeshin sought children like me—children born with a connection to the agan. I believe he started his investigations after the destruction of Old Oren-yaro. He was interested in why we existed in a land as dry as Jin-Sayeng.”

  “He was half mad with grief,” Ozo grunted. “Don’t hold it against him.”

  “Warlord Yeshin’s agents were getting too close to my family,” Namra continued. “My father wanted to leave, except… going to Dageis isn’t cheap. We were of the craftsman caste, and though my father served the Ikessars as I once told you, it didn’t pay much. The travelling expenses alone equalled what my father made in a year, in addition to lodging and food. My father… went to yours instead to beg for my life. To spare me.”

  “He would’ve liked that,” I said, offhandedly.

  Ozo snorted. “He wasn’t the unreasonable man they believe him to be.”

  “Be that as it may,” Namra said. “He not only let my father go, but gave him the coin both for our journey… and for my education in Eheldeth.”

  “The mage school in Dageis. Why would my father care about your well-being? He promised the same to these warlords’ children, and yet he didn’t go through the same expense for them.”

  She glanced at the study. “I’m guessing he wanted a mage that would be loyal to his cause, if not to him directly.” She turned back to me. “My father told me that Yeshin only had one command: I was to return home once my studies were done to assist you. That was all, my queen. I wasn’t told what the bigger picture was. I was convinced our plans up to this moment were sound. Now…” She turned to Ozo.

  “This delicate operation requires mages,” Ozo said. “Yuebek needs to learn the spells necessary to close the rift. Yeshin has amassed the knowledge for such spells. They are all in this room.” He pointed at her. “It’s your job to know what they are. It’s your job to teach him.”

  Her face paled. “I—”

  “Mage child,” he said gruffly. “I signed the orders myself to send your mother the money for Eheldeth every year. She married some Dageian man to secure your citizenship, but the money was necessary to keep you there. We had been waiting for you for years. Why you decided to serve Rayyel Ikessar instead, I can’t tell. You’re as foolish as the queen. But you’re here now. You’re both here now. My job was to bring you all together, and then clean up when it’s all done. The in-between? That’s all you.”

  What now? I wanted to ask. But my tongue wouldn
’t work.

  “If you had been open from the very beginning—” Namra began.

  “With her?” Ozo asked, vaguely gesturing at me. “Is she listening now, after I’ve laid it all bare? Warlord Yeshin knew she would resist. He ordered me to get her to willingly fall in love with Yuebek. If I had to fool her, so be it! Sounded simple enough. I didn’t know it would be like dragging a dead donkey. But I couldn’t talk, not in court, not where the Ikessars’ spies could be lurking about anywhere.”

  “We did have a lot of those,” I said, thinking of Kora.

  “We can’t afford Yuebek finding out, and if that meant hurting your feelings, so be it.”

  I closed my eyes. “So why are you telling me now?”

  “This study is safe,” he breathed. “If you ignore the bandits trying to burn the whole place down. There’s no way to do this cleanly anymore, Queen Talyien. We need you.” He indicated the study, with all its books and knowledge, gathered painstakingly over the years. “I had hoped seeing how seriously your father took this problem was all it would take to convince you.”

  “Warlord Yeshin was aware of his daughter’s temperament. He must’ve known we would be here at some point.” Namra turned back to me. “Have you checked the room, Beloved Queen? Your father may have left you a note.”

  “Lord General Ozo,” Parrtha called from the other side of the door. “The bandits have regrouped. They’re in the courtyard now.”

  “For once in your life, Talyien, think about someone else other than yourself,” Ozo snarled. He kicked the door open and stomped out.

  I didn’t even look at him. My attention was drawn to the painting of a bonytongue on the far side of the wall.

  “Tali,” Namra said, taking a deep breath. “I can understand if you won’t—”

  I ignored her and approached the painting. The paint had darkened to brown over the years, but it must’ve been black and orange once. I placed my hand on the frame. Nothing happened.

  Cautiously, I pulled the painting from the wall and inspected the wood behind it. I expected markings, spell runes, anything of that sort. But other than the hook from where the frame hung, the wall was blank.