The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  The soldier said something in response. I saw his figure clamber down from the tower.

  I took a moment to take a good look at the encampment. Sturdy palisades made of hewn timber went as far as my eye could see—Dai’s army had the numbers to give any warlord pause. No wonder the Anyus were struggling to contain his rebellion. We were deep in the plains and I couldn’t get a glimpse of the river anywhere. I did spot mountains in the distance, which meant we were somewhere in the western edge of Yu-yan.

  “New assistant?” another soldier asked.

  “I wanted to see what opportunities are out here,” I answered for myself. “The old man doesn’t pay enough.” Lies came so easily to me.

  The soldiers laughed. One leered at me, breathing through his mouth. “Have you got any special skills?”

  “I can gut a boar from its balls to its throat,” I replied with a grin.

  They laughed, slapping the offending soldier’s back as they let us through. I took a deep breath, my heart hammering so loud I could feel it. My son is somewhere here. I glanced at the tents and pavilions, spread out in neat rows on each side of the path, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him. And Khine…

  I followed Geor into one of the bigger tents off to the far end of the fences. A man in a dirty apron greeted us, and I caught sight of Geor’s packet of contraband exchanging hands.

  “How’s it been out here?” Geor asked.

  The man thumbed his nose. “The same old. Men dying, men trying not to die. And of course, there’s the killing.” He laughed at his poor attempt at a joke. His Jinan had the tinge I was starting to associate with those who grew up in the region around Ni’in—a fluency that still sounded like a different language altogether. He used words I understood but wouldn’t use myself.

  “Don’t know where we would be without our new camp surgeon,” a soldier broke in. “Stroke of luck, too, since we lost the last one and General Dai didn’t have a backup. Hard to feel confident about your general when he neglects the little things.”

  The soldier called Larson, who’d met us at the gate, came up to us. “Are you talking about Lamang?” he asked. “General fished him out from prison, too. Tells you about the state of affairs. We were promised easy pickings. He promised the warlord in this province is weak and that his soldiers would cave within a week. It’s been months now, and they give us shit if we raid the farms for supplies. This war has gone on too long and we’re not getting paid enough for it.”

  He continued talking about other things, about the chaos in the fields and the weakening resolve of Dai’s mercenaries, but I stopped listening. I suddenly felt like I could breathe again. At some point, Geor broke off from us. He looked almost relieved to be rid of me.

  “Will Doctor Lamang be looking for assistants?” I asked, once Larson paused for breath.

  “He already has one,” he said. “She was in the infirmary tent the last time I checked.”

  “Maybe they could use another. You said yourself. This war is chaos.”

  “I’ll take you there now if you want.”

  I found myself following him through the camp. I kept my head down, assuming the demeanour of a placid peasant as we strode past soldiers going through their daily exercises. Keeping my silence was easier these days than it used to be.

  We went through another gate, past the stables, and reached a large pavilion. My throat tightened. Larson spoke to the guards and they gestured to me with a wave. I ducked under the tent flap and was greeted by rows of cots, most of which were filled with injured soldiers in various stages of recuperation. The smell of sweat and blood, with a hint of pus, filled my senses. My heartbeat was now threatening to drown out my thoughts; I scanned the area for Khine, but he wasn’t there. My eyes settled on the woman changing the dressing on a soldier’s leg. Rayyel’s sister.

  Karia regarded me with silence as I approached her. She looked puzzled, but her mouth remained closed. “I’m looking for Doctor Lamang,” I said. “Perhaps he has a job for me here.” I gave her a knowing look, hoping she wouldn’t raise the alarm. If she was working for Kaggawa…

  She turned to the soldiers behind me. “The doctor’s gone to get more herbs,” she replied, her detached tone mirroring mine. She wiped her hands on a towel. “I could use the help. Thank you, Officer.”

  Larson saluted before stepping back outside, leaving us alone. She handed me a roll of bandages and returned to work.

  We really didn’t talk for the next few hours. I kept myself busy by making small talk with the soldiers. The fresh wave of injuries came from a recent attack by Huan Anyu on one of their smaller camps by the river. They had managed to regroup and attack his flank.

  “Unfortunate that the slimy dog escaped!” one of the men fumed. The others nodded in agreement. They seemed to hate Huan the most. He was a foolhardy battle commander, given to pushing his men in situations that would’ve deterred others. And his soldiers loved him, which meant they fought like cornered lions. Two or three were needed to take down one of his.

  But they all seemed confident in their numbers. Another fresh thousand were expected to come via riverboat, which explained why Dai had seized control of the western roads. The river was the surest route for him to replenish his army. The only thing left for them to do was lay siege to Yu-yan, and they were getting ready for that. “It’s going to be bloodier than these little skirmishes,” the soldier told me. “But think of the rewards. General Dai promised ample riches to those who hold their own.”

  It was late evening and the lamps were burning low by the time we finished bandaging everyone. But before we could start cleaning up, I heard the clink of heavy footsteps outside. A small woman on crutches limped in.

  I immediately turned to the shadows to hide myself. Dai Kaggawa’s daughter would recognize me immediately. She had been welcoming and honest with me the last time we spoke, but that was before a dragon had torn her leg off her body and dropped her from a tower. I did feel a shadow of relief that the young woman was still alive.

  “Is the new salve working?” Karia asked as the woman settled into an empty cot.

  “It’s itching less,” Lahei said. “But the wound still hurts.”

  Karia unwrapped the bandage around her stump. “It smells clean.”

  “I shouldn’t be complaining. I know people who’ve died from smaller bites.”

  “The doctor says bodies react differently to dragon spit,” Karia said. “Yours is healing, it’s just slow. He still has trouble with his, too.”

  “His arm?”

  “He says he can’t move it as well as he used to. Says his stitching has become sloppier.”

  Lahei gave a thin smile. “I’m sure these men wouldn’t know the difference. Our last camp surgeon worked on pigs down at Fuyyu. Anything the man touched looked worse going out of his tent than in.”

  “Lamang takes pride in his work.”

  “I don’t disagree. He saved my life.” She shook her head. “It’s a shame he’s still clearly the queen’s man. My father let him stay on, but we all know he’s really here for her son.”

  “She would worry for his safety.”

  “There’s nothing to fear,” Lahei insisted. “My father knows what he’s doing. Prince Thanh isn’t a hostage. He’s a guest. We’d never let anything happen to him. Once we win Yu-yan and have the Anyus’ heads on a string, my father intends to gift the city to him. A wedding present.”

  “The poor child is just a puppet. At his age, he cannot possibly consent to his own marriage.”

  “We’re all puppets,” Lahei said, her eyes fixed on the ground. “Pieces being moved on a board. My father has been speaking with Prince Thanh and thinks the boy understands, better than his parents.”

  “He’s just a boy,” Karia said. “What would he know?”

  “As Queen Talyien was once just an infant. Soon, he’ll grow up, and the power of the blood running through his veins can’t be understated. My father knows this better than anyone else.�
��

  I stopped myself from throwing the table aside in my horror. Dai couldn’t get to us, so he was trying to get to my son. An impressionable boy, still so young. It would be easy to twist his mind. I knew I had to get him out of there.

  “Even if he’s a prince, he’s a child like any other,” Karia continued. I didn’t know how she could keep calm.

  “And we understand that. We take good care of him, don’t we? If we weren’t at war, I’d go down to the city to get him a new book or two. He’s cleaned out whatever we have here in the fort.”

  Karia didn’t answer and began to put salve on Lahei’s leg.

  “Father says we’re in a good position to besiege Yu-yan soon. I hate that I can’t be there. I’m useless. All I can do is trip on things. My father doesn’t say it, but I think he’ll start training my sister Faorra to take over some of my responsibilities. Faorra. All she’s ever cared for are pretty dresses and dolls! If the damn stump would stop hurting at least I could try to ride a horse. And the ship… I miss my ship. I hope Father hasn’t sold it for scrap material to pay for his war. He won’t tell me where it is.”

  Karia retrieved a fresh set of bandages. “The doctor told me that perhaps if you rested more, you’ll heal faster.”

  Lahei frowned. “He’s just saying that to irritate me. Where is he, anyway?”

  “Up in his hut. He went to get herbs. He won’t be back for a few days—he has to prepare them first.”

  “Probably sending a message to the queen.” She sighed. “It’s strange. Father warns me not to trust anyone. But then he also tells me drinking cold water will make me sick and I drink it anyway. Lamang’s heart’s in the right place… he just hasn’t put up the proper walls around it. Love makes fools of us all.”

  “Family has always been enough for me.”

  “I’m sorry if they’re affected by all of this,” Lahei said. “War is awful for the common folk, but it’s always an opportunity for those of the right mind. I know how that sounds. But change cannot happen without some kind of upheaval. We’ve tried our best to limit the impact on the people, but predictably, not everyone is cooperating, which makes things harder than they should be. If we could just all agree on who the enemy is, things would be easier.”

  “To be young again, and so full of hope,” Karia said, patting her arm. “Good night, mistress. It’s late and we have more work to do.”

  Lahei glanced in my direction. I stepped further away, pretending to inspect one of the sleeping soldiers. I picked up a towel to dab the sheen of dirty sweat from the man’s arm. He groaned, the stale stench of his breath mingling with the earthy tang of the herbal drink that knocked him out. “You’ve got new help?”

  “Don’t worry, mistress—I’ll ask the doctor to pay her out of his own pocket.”

  “We don’t pay him enough for that, but you people know what’s best for you,” Lahei said. “Good evening, Sang Karia.”

  As soon as she and her soldiers were gone, I sidled up to Karia. “I need to see my son,” I whispered.

  “Not tonight,” Karia whispered back.

  “But—”

  “You’ll alert them,” she said, closing a jar of salve to put away. She began to arrange the remaining bottles on the table. “I don’t even know why you’re here. I thought you sent Lamang to take care of things.”

  “I didn’t.”

  She motioned and drew me away outside the tent, near the edge of the palisade. The night wind was crisp on our skin, and I could see stars above us.

  “Thanh is in the officers’ lodge in the middle of the camp,” she said. “It’s well-guarded. Two levels. He’s at the top floor.”

  “A building that size would’ve taken a few months to build. Kaggawa must have been planning this war for years,” I mused.

  Karia didn’t even look surprised. “He would have, to have secured the services of so many mercenaries.”

  “His attempts at trying to make me see the light to avoid war were false,” I sighed. “I figured nobody is that reasonable. You’ve seen my son with your own eyes?”

  She nodded. “He’s doing well. Healthy. Doesn’t know who I am—I thought it best to keep it that way. He looks like Rai—his eyes anyway, when Rai was a boy. Acts like him, too. Maybe with a touch more humour. I don’t know why he ever doubted him.”

  “I’m surprised you care.”

  She gave me a look. “Your boy is family,” she said, with a conviction that took me by surprise. “I would’ve visited if I had the chance. But Princess Ryia forbade contact with you. After my brother sent me to Bara to care for Anino, I couldn’t show my face in court anymore, either.”

  “You hid the boy from your lady.”

  Her expression darkened. “The clan failed my brother. They offered him up to your father just for the chance for things to stay the way they were, for them to keep what power they could. He wasn’t an Ikessar. Is that a surprising thing to hear? He wasn’t—they could’ve found someone better. Rysaran’s father had brothers. They had sons. But that would’ve required deliberation and talks and they wanted to use someone that had no true value—Rayyel, a bastard and a mere soldier’s son. A mere soldier that Rayyel’s mother never even loved. They made him the Ikessar heir thinking he wouldn’t last long, not with an Orenar on the throne. Look at him now. Have the Ikessars done a damn thing to help him?

  “Anino was a child. A baby of two at the time. My brother begged me to keep him safe. To keep him away from his family, and from you. You must know—he only found out after he left Oren-yaro on the eve of your coronation. He made a vow of silence soon after.”

  “You’re still afraid of me for Anino’s sake, aren’t you?” I asked.

  She stared back, her jaw tight. She didn’t need to answer—I could see it in her eyes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE WAR CAMP

  We spent the following day patching up the freshly wounded and making rounds through the camp for simple tasks. The soldiers, for their part, were friendly. They were starved for women, and I learned this was in part because Dai had chased out the brothel that tried to set up shop outside the fort. He wanted to conquer Yu-yan, wanted the men to understand that the luxuries they desired were inside the city and that if they wanted to partake of them, they had to win the war first. A risky strategy—one could just as easily end up with disgruntled soldiers as victory.

  I used it to my advantage. A kind word here, a stray look there… and by the next morning I was allowed through the inner gates where the officers’ lodge stood on top of a low hill, surrounded by a number of smaller pavilions. The smell of smoke and freshly baked bread filled the air.

  The tents were for the lower-ranking officers, some of whom had been injured in the last battle and needed help with their dressings. Despite the bruises, sword cuts, and broken bones, they were still in high spirits. Warlord Ojika’s refusal to send more than a handful of soldiers to control Kaggawa’s growing army had resulted in a morale boost favouring the merchant. Their attendant directed me to a table, where the first soldier who approached must have forgotten where he was. A tall man with more hair on his chest than his head, he leered a little too close, his breath smelling of drink, and I could tell he would have made a grab for my chest if I didn’t stop him. I pinned his injured arm to the table before his hand could wander and then gave him the consideration of pretending like nothing had happened.

  “When do you think you’ll start the siege?” I asked, dropping enough salve on his wound to sting.

  The soldier grimaced. He looked like he wanted to start trouble and would have if not for the friendliness in my tone and the fact that his companions were chatting as if nothing was amiss. He eventually slumped into his seat. “Within weeks, if we’re lucky,” he said. “Look at these boys. They’re all itching to hack Jin heads off!” He laughed, not seeming to care that he was talking to one or that he was insulting us in our own language. It wasn’t the first time I heard the slur thrown around the camp. I pre
tended not to hear it. You got used to pretending not to hear insults to get things done, even words you once would have slain for.

  “You should learn how to fight better.”

  He sneered. There was brown and white stubble all over his face. He looked like he shaved himself with an axe. “Silly girl. What do you know of war?”

  I tightened the bandage so hard he yelped. “I know you’re not very good at it.” His wound was a long, jagged thing on his back, right underneath the left arm. Either he was caught unaware by an opponent or he was running from them. Something told me he wouldn’t admit to the truth, even if he was court-martialled.

  “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

  “If you don’t use that hand too much, you’ll probably heal faster. Try to control yourself.” I turned to the other soldiers. “Next!”

  “Not interested in helping me with it?” the soldier asked, hanging around the edge of the table.

  “No thank you,” I said, pretending not to look at him. “Maybe one of your soldier friends could help.” It was difficult to maintain a cheerful tone while deflecting a man’s advances, and I knew he would have acted differently if we had been alone—or if we were in a camp with very different rules. He reluctantly extracted himself when the next soldier arrived. This one, thankfully, was less interested. As far as he was concerned, I was invisible.

  After I had changed more bandages than I cared to remember, I took my leave, and the attendant led me out of the tent. I stammered a quick excuse about being able to find my way back on my own. The attendant seemed happy to be relieved of the burden. As soon as the door flap closed behind me, I turned the other way, towards the lodge. Red flags hung below the windows, marked with a sigil unknown to me: a yellow stalk of rice in front of a white sun. I gazed at the upper floor, wondering where my son was.

  I didn’t realize I was walking straight up the path until a guard came to block me with his halberd. “You’re going the wrong way,” he said.