The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

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The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 55

by K. S. Villoso


  “We’ve been through this before,” Ozo said, striding through the door behind us. “Those were Darusu soldiers behind us. She was right about one thing back there. We can continue to bicker amongst ourselves and all but hand our lands and our titles over to the enemy. Or we can learn to swallow our pride.”

  “And you think that’ll be enough to turn the tides?” Nijo asked.

  “There are no guarantees,” I replied.

  “My bannermen have been at my throat,” Nijo grumbled. “After Father’s death, getting them under control has been a nightmare. What will they say if I support you? If I support this?”

  “Tell them what you saw out here,” I said.

  “You won’t even have to,” Ozo added. “The entire region will be gossiping by the time the night is out. I suggest you ride back home now, boy. Don’t even clean yourself up. Let them see you as you are. Let them understand exactly what they’re dealing with.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Nijo slunk away. He had barely disappeared around the hall when the doors opened and Yuebek entered like a high-stepping horse. His robes were steeped in blood, but he looked about as fresh as someone who had just walked out of a bathhouse—not a single bead of sweat or dirt marred his face.

  “A most wonderful wedding!” Yuebek exclaimed, holding his hands out. He was holding a decapitated head, which he flung haphazardly to the ground as he strode through the great hall. “A dance, a duel, an assassination… what wonders await our wedding night?” He reached for me like a cat scooping a mouse into its jaws.

  I pulled away from his searching lips. “Forget the wedding night. We’re at war.”

  “Boring details,” Yuebek laughed. “How do you want me to crush them, my queen?”

  “We don’t need to crush them,” I said. “We need to show the land that they’re the ones overstepping their bounds. We may still have a chance if we reach Yu-yan quickly, before word of what you did at the Kibouri temple gets out.”

  Ozo sniffed. “We could just as easily say we ransacked the temple after they attacked us. Those assassins were Warlord Hhanda’s.” He waved the bloody cloth in his hands, a piece of garment ripped from one of the assassins. It contained a crest: a golden eagle flying against a mountain horizon. Just like the Ikessar banner, it was black. The Hoen lands were east of the same mountain range the Ikessars traditionally held as their territory. They had conflicts over the years, and the Hoen clan was well-known to support rebels that openly defied the Ikessar regime. For them to knowingly attack the queen in support of an Ikessar meant the world truly was on fire.

  “They must’ve been here days ago, waiting, watching. They were very thorough,” Ozo continued.

  “Not thorough enough.” I glanced at Yuebek’s neck. There was only a faint line where the arrow had gone through. Soon, even the scar would disappear, just like with my dogs’ attack.

  Yuebek, ignoring our conversation, clapped his hands, calling for more wine. I wondered if it would drain into his clothes.

  “We have to show the people that we haven’t forgotten them,” I said. “My lord prince, your path to the Dragonthrone is clear. We need to ignore the Ikessars and subdue the Sougen. This will ensure support from the rest. Our only true opposition are the Ikessars, and they have all but dug a hole for themselves with today’s attack. I won’t be surprised if even Darusu abandons them.”

  Yuebek looked up just as a servant handed him his wine. “Mundane details,” he repeated. “That witch declares war on me, and you’d have me fight another?”

  “War isn’t about demolishing everything in your path.”

  “My first argument with my wife!” Yuebek laughed. “You’ve got barrels more fire than the old one, I’ll give you that! Speaking of which, where by all the spirits is Ong? Ong!”

  “Esteemed Prince,” Radi Ong said, appearing from behind the shadows. I wondered how long he had been hiding there. He dropped to the ground, kissing Yuebek’s feet.

  “You missed my wedding, Ong. Don’t tell me you’re still holding grudges about your daughter!”

  “I never—”

  “A jest!” Yuebek slapped the old man’s back. “Do you think I don’t praise you enough, Ong? Just tell me if I don’t. You keep my army fed and watered, which is more useful than anything that daughter of yours ever did. Well, I’m about to make you even busier! My queen tells me we have a war to fight. Make arrangements.”

  Ong bowed again before scrambling for the courtyard. General Ozo saluted and turned to follow him.

  “Are you happy?” Yuebek asked, turning to me.

  “We march tomorrow,” I said. “We can’t afford to miss this opportunity. After an attack like this, it’s a statement the nation can’t deny.”

  “Tomorrow,” he agreed. “But tonight…!” His eyes danced wildly as he ran his hand across my neck, leaving behind a streak of blood on my skin.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE SACRIFICE

  There were just enough casualties from the attack to drive the point home. On top of Ipeng, I lost three other bannermen, whose heirs immediately pledged themselves to our cause. The threat of civil war was long gone. It was upon us whether we liked it or not, and indecision and arguments would only ensure victory for our opponents. I was wrong about a wedding proving to be the factor that united us; it was bloodshed, after all. Bloodshed, ever and always. The land may switch hands, but people’s hearts remained the same. My father had known that from the beginning. “Do you think people are content with words?” he once told me. “Do you think talking pretty is all it takes to change minds?”

  “The Ikessars do it all the time,” I remember replying.

  He laughed. “And the people love them, no doubt about that. But it is one thing to praise empty words and another thing to get up and do something about it. The Ikessars have ruled us for centuries, and yet even they couldn’t provide the sort of leadership that would allow us to progress beyond the darkness of this age. Change cannot happen without sacrifice, Talyien. Never forget this. Never.”

  The afternoon had come and gone. Servants swept the streets and carted off the rest of the remains before they could begin to rot, bringing all manner of foul birds and animals to the city. Double guards were on patrol throughout, all the way up to Old Oren-yaro, where it was believed the assassins had hidden themselves. The old keep where my father had lost his sons, the untouched graveyard—nobody had thought to look there. It all needed to be burned now, a symbolic show of solidarity. The Ikessars wronged us yet again. But look, instead of answering them, we are marching west to subdue the real threat, as Dragonlords should. We know where our priorities lie. Do the rest of them?

  We play with lives when words alone cannot suffice.

  My wound was washed and treated, and then I changed into a clean dress and returned to what remained of my guests, now gathered in the castle’s great room. In a bizarre display of the royals’ priorities, the celebration continued—the feasting and wine, followed by entertainment, provided by the few servants who weren’t preoccupied with preparing pyres for the dead. Lo Bahn’s dancers in their bright silks and paper fans lit up the great hall, a stark contrast with the bloody gutters in the city below. “Tomorrow, we can mourn properly,” we told ourselves. “Tomorrow, we march for war.” We repeated this over and over again until even I started to believe it.

  I retired early, the exhaustion creeping up from inside my bones. I remembered making the same excuse the night I married Rayyel. Yet where back then I trembled at the thought of facing the man I loved—who had wronged me, and who I had wronged—now it was something horrid, sinister, and gut wrenching. Sacrifice.

  But I went through the motions. Bathed, scrubbed the last splotches of blood from my fingernails, changed into my sleeping gown. Yayei helped me, tears in the corners of her eyes. When I finally got up to return to my chambers, she took my hands in hers, pressing them together before bringing them up to her lips. She didn’t say anything—couldn’t, I think, f
ind the words that would add a spray of sunlight to what was about to happen. On the way back to the castle, I thought of the prisoners I executed in my years as queen and envied them.

  “The Esteemed Prince has gone ahead of you,” one of the servants told me as I came up the stairs. “He ordered us to tell you to join him as soon as you’re able.”

  She disappeared around the corner. I stood where I was, forcing myself to calm down. I heard footsteps and saw Rai appear from the shadows.

  “What are you doing here?” I hissed. “He gave you a way out. You should’ve taken it and run!”

  “Run where?” he asked.

  “Anywhere but the lion’s den, you idiot.”

  He gazed into my eyes. I felt a twinge of emotion. Had he always looked at me that way? “The kingdom is burning,” he eventually said. “There is nowhere to run to. I belong where I’m needed.” He swallowed. “Besides, the time for running is over. I won’t do it again.”

  I turned away. “You can assist where your life isn’t in danger.”

  “We still have sympathizers in the castle. It’s not my safety I’m concerned about. We can’t risk you in there with him. Every minute you spend with him and him alone isn’t safe. If this inane plan is to even work, you need to be alive.”

  “He won’t kill me,” I said.

  “He killed his first wife.”

  I swallowed. “I admired Zhu—I really did. And I still wish I could’ve found a way to save her. But Yuebek’s a fool if he thinks I am anywhere near as malleable. If he tries anything—”

  “He raped and killed your handmaiden in the great hall. How many more women must die before you take this seriously?”

  I stared at the ground. “He won’t—”

  “Talyien,” he said with a sigh. “Your courage borders on carelessness. You know this has ever been my conflict with you.”

  I resisted the urge to respond with my own sigh, because it was the sort of thing we could do all night if we were inclined to. “And here I was hoping the lectures would stop after our marriage ended.”

  “Your other handmaiden expressed her concerns. She says she’s seen Yuebek talking to himself in the halls. Talking about you betraying him. Talking about strangling you once you do. Not if, Talyien. He’s certain you will.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “You can’t possibly pull off an act convincing enough for him,” Rai continued.

  “You don’t know that—” I began, before closing my mouth. He probably did know, if the last few months had been any indication.

  “Your skill with a blade doesn’t make you a convincing liar, Beloved Queen,” Rai said. “Not when you are required to look the other person in the eye and pretend you love them.” He glanced away. “If you… if you lie with him tonight, he will see through the act. You’ve seen the man. He will use any excuse. Perhaps he will not kill you, but if he kills you, what then? We can’t save Jin-Sayeng if you’re dead, Tali. We can’t take that chance.”

  “So what the hell do you want me to do?” I hissed. “Do you want to trade places with me? I’m pretty sure he’ll notice the difference, and believe me, Rai, you are absolutely no good at seduction.”

  “This is not negotiable,” he said. “If the man kills you, this would have all been for nothing.” He turned his head. I glanced down and caught sight of a woman. Chiha. She was dressed in the exact same robes as I was.

  His plan dawned on me. He really did want me to trade places.

  “Rai, you…”

  His jaw tightened.

  “This is vile!” I hissed. “I think I can almost forgive half of the things you’ve done, but this? This is beyond despicable!”

  “I’m aware,” Rai repeated, a hint of irritation in his voice. “Do you think I like half the things I’m forced to do?”

  “Forced? Who in hell forces you to do these things? Show me so I can scream at them!”

  “My duties. My responsibilities. And—”

  “That stick up your ass, I get it.” I turned to Chiha. “And you, you damn woman—you’ll entertain this man’s foolish notions?”

  Chiha bowed.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I snapped. “I’ve never liked you, Chiha. I still don’t. But if you think for one moment I’m just going to step aside and let this happen, you must be out of your mind.”

  “If he kills me tonight,” Chiha said easily, “the servants will come and fetch my body. And you will carry on in the morning as if nothing happened, as if it was all just a trick of the mind. As if anyone could kill Talyien Orenar! By then you will be marching for the Sougen, to carry out whatever foolish thing your father planned. The same foolish thing my father died for.”

  “Why would you do this?”

  She gave a wry smile. “Not for you, if you must know. I hold no love for you.”

  “Obviously.”

  “And in your position, I wouldn’t have spared your son. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought.” She pulled her arms from underneath her robes, gracefully showing her smooth, unblemished arms. “Talyien Orenar, you are not the only person who cares about this land. You are not Jin-Sayeng’s only daughter, nor the only one willing to sacrifice herself to see it withstand the coming days. Let me do my part. You still have yours to worry about.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but she pulled away from me to give Rai one last glance before walking down the hall to my chambers. I, coward that I was, let her.

  Rai led me down to Thanh’s room, which he opened with a key. I wondered which of the servants had lent it to him. Yayei, probably. “You’d allow this,” I said, as soon as he closed the door. “I always knew you could be a heartless son of a bitch, but Rai—you loved that woman.”

  He stared at me in surprise.

  “You did. Don’t even deny it. I know this much about you: You wouldn’t have made a gods-damn bastard if you didn’t. Was it her idea or yours?”

  “Hers,” he conceded. “I am as powerless to stop her as I am if you had made a decision.”

  “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse. This is obscene. It’s…”

  “Necessary,” Rai said. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, his face completely blank except for a small line on his forehead.

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  He looked at me, the line growing deeper.

  “Dismissing the people you care for so easily, for the greater good. It’s…” I stopped, remembering Agos. Remembering the night in Kyo-orashi, the sacrifices I felt I had to make for the sake of the people I cared for. Hurting others while foolishly thinking we were only hurting ourselves could only take you so far. Life wasn’t a bubble, duty not black and white. Our mistakes had run their course. He left Chiha for me because he thought it was the right thing to do. He tried to love me the same way I tried to love him. And now we were here, all of us bearing scars in some way, all of us still attempting to hold the pieces together in spite of that.

  “Our parents would be so proud,” I whispered, shaking my head. “At the end of the day, we’re no different.” I sat down beside him, turning to gaze at my son’s bookshelves. The servants had arranged and dusted them as usual, but I noticed a few open books on the desk—not the same ones my son had been reading the night Kaggawa had taken him from the castle. “Did you spend the whole afternoon here?” I asked.

  Rai shrugged, rising to pick up the books and return them to the shelves. His movements remained clear, methodical. “After what you told me, I was curious what else the boy has been preoccupied with. For a child his age, his interests seem… odd.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Politics? Economics? Agriculture? At his age?”

  “He… was trying to impress you.”

  Rai’s eyes flashed.

  “For when you returned,” I continued. “He loved to ask about you. What interested you, what you used to do during the day.”

  “And you told him I spent my days
reading these things?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  He must’ve really thought he didn’t. I watched him stare at the bookshelf with a grave expression. “Some of these are mine,” he managed.

  “I used to let him rummage through your things and take what he wanted,” I said. “I would’ve burned them all otherwise. I suppose, in your absence, that they sufficed.”

  Rai swallowed. “I don’t… think I’ve ever told you this before… but you’ve raised our son well. The stories I hear from the servants. He sounds… like a wonderful boy. My mother may never recognize it, but she and I will have to disagree on that one, too.” He glanced back at me. “I don’t think going down the road your father took is the answer, but leniency cannot serve this land, either. We may want to have nothing more than the cares of ordinary people, but we aren’t, Talyien.”

  “My father said the exact same things, Rai. You see? Not that different at all.”

  “I’m not happy about what you have to face, nor what Chiha has to do tonight for our cause.”

  “Your feelings on the matter won’t lessen her burden,” I said bitterly. I sighed. “Will it even work?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In the dark, can she… pass for me?”

  Realizing what I was asking, his cheeks turned red. “I’m not talking about this,” he said bluntly.

  “Well, you’re the only person in the world who can compare,” I pointed out.

  “It’s been too many years,” he murmured.

  “You’re not really answering my question.”

  “He’s had a lot of wine.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I see. You don’t know. Of course you wouldn’t.”

  “Talyien—”

  “I’m just curious. You both seemed fairly confident about this.”

  “We couldn’t risk your life!”

  “Yes, so you’ve said. So are we the same in bed?”

  “No!” His ears were red now, too, and he turned away, grumbling to himself. “I don’t know if this makes a difference anymore, but from the moment I married you, I swore the past wouldn’t get in the way.”

 

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