“Why me, and not you?” she asked, not because she needed the justification, but merely to break this moment, which felt more perilous by the heartbeat.
Kensuke released her shoulders and stepped back, shrinking in on himself. He turned, pacing as he spoke, not looking at her. “We must each serve the best we can. The empire is placing great faith in you, Michiko. Great faith in Kakute. The Golden Lord’s escape was a stain on our status within the empire. We must restore ourselves in Mertika’s eyes.”
Kensuke retrieved his mug from the desk. “You will face the upstart last, after Warder Junius.”
And then he left. No further explanation. No coaching on strategy for the duel. Not even a good night.
The room was still, silent even as her thoughts whipped around her at gale force. She felt the pull to commune with her ancestors, just to feel less adrift and alone.
First Bellona wanted Michiko to follow through with her original instinct to connect with Kris.
Then Lavinia wanted her to use that connection to force a wedge between Kris and Adechike.
Now she wanted Michiko to stand in direct opposition and take up her sword against someone she’d been ordered to befriend. Michiko expected to have to oppose Kris at some point, but sending her forward instead of Warder Heike was a clear signal. It was both an insult to Rumika for Kris to have to face a junior instead of the senior warder and an insult to Michiko to treat her inconsistently.
Like all subjects, she was of course an instrument of the empress’s will. But would forcing her to be so antagonistic toward Kris likely sour them on her permanently? Preventing her from ever being able to recover the connection they’d had initially? In time, that sourness would fester.
And what if Kris succeeded even with the switch-up? Michiko had bested Kris in the garden when they were hungover and angry, but the way they’d fought on the ship . . . beating them would not be easy.
If she took up arms against Kris, they would not be the only one whose relationship to the empire would be soured by the result.
•••
Michiko lit the incense, felt the beads in her hands, and reached out to her ancestors for guidance.
The Golden Lord emerged first.
“Good evening, Granddaughter. Have you thought on my words? Reflected on the ways that the Mertikans are abusing your loyalty?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” she answered. “But now they want me to fight Kris Denn in Warder Heike’s place.”
The Golden Lord’s presence flowed into her mind like a storm ripping the shutters off their hinges. He crowded out the other voices, growing to fill her attention. “For the Gauntlet? Has it begun? What is the score? Kensuke has been a weak-willed lackey since we were children together. It’s not surprising that Lavinia would call on you for this. Now is your chance to strike a blow for Kakute! For yourself! They’ve pushed you around since the moment you set foot on Twaa-Fei.
“If Rumika joins the Circle, the empire becomes the minority. If you are to face Kris, you should let them win. Make it look close. Do this for me, for your people.”
“The Gauntlet has begun. Kris defeated Penelope and lost to Taro. They lost to Ojo as well, but Ojo voted in support. The result may fall to me, and I cannot throw a duel without serious repercussions.”
“So they need only win twice more. What do you think about Takeshi’s chances against Kris?”
It was so casual to him. A game to bet upon. “I haven’t seen Takeshi duel. But Bellona says he’s useless with a blade. Kris is anything but.”
“Excellent. If you throw the duel and Kris beats Takeshi, it doesn’t matter what Lavinia does, short of killing the youth. Which would not go over well with Rumika. It might take them time to find another aspirant, but they’d not soon forget such an affront. Yes, this is the way forward. We can curb Lavinia’s ambitions and force the empire onto the defensive while you rally the resistance on Kakute.”
He’d laid out her whole life for her, just as Lavinia had done, and Governor Gallus on Kakute before.
“And what will Lavinia do to me if I fail?”
“She won’t cast you aside so soon after forcing Kensuke out.”
“He’s not out; he’s just not fighting this duel.”
The Golden Lord laughed, his amusement and confidence echoing throughout her mind. “We’ll see about that. Make it look good. Lavinia will rage and fume, but if she needs you now, she’ll need you again soon.”
“What do you say, Uncle? Aunt?”
“How long will you let yourself be constrained by fear?” the Golden Lord asked. “I was imprisoned for forty years, but in my heart, I was still free. Do not walk willingly into the cage they forced on me.”
He’d call for anything that reduced Mertika’s power. But did he care for Rumika at all? What would be best for Kris’s people? The power of a seat in the Warders’ Circle came with great responsibility, and put them into play. Other nations would seek to gain advantage from Rumika: their aerstone, their fleet, a supporting voice in each of their personal agendas and vendettas. But if Kris failed, they could return home, live out their lives as Rumika had done for centuries—staying above the fray.
Michiko imagined what life would be like if she failed out of her role on Twaa-Fei. Sent back home to be a bodyguard or to the fleet as a navigator. Would it be so bad?
Kris clearly wanted more for Rumika, and Rumika wanted more for their people. But what did she want? And could it really matter, caught between a web of obligations? One false move and she’d be prey, eaten up and cast aside as Kensuke had been.
The Golden Lord receded, the storm of his intensity rolling out from her mind.
Her aunt’s presence rushed forward, wrapping around her mind like a blanket.
“You absolutely cannot go against the empress, my dear Michiko.”
Her uncle joined them, his attention like a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Mertikans only respect excellence. Results. You cannot fail them when they’ve called upon you like this.”
“If Warder Junius has asked you to fight, it must be because she believes in you. You must prove that her confidence was well placed.”
The two did their best to talk her down, to soothe her worries. But when the incense was doused, her attention back in the embassy, she had none of the clarity she’d sought.
She’d been raised to honor her ancestors, to let their wisdom guide her. But when they contradicted one another so violently, she could not hope to satisfy them all.
She’d been boxed in. No matter what she did, someone would be disappointed.
Chapter 5
Kris
Thanks to strongly brewed Luoah tea and the exhaustion of the Gauntlet, Kris managed some sleep. They woke with aches and bruises, which they met with a hot bath.
An imperial messenger arrived as they were finishing.
The day’s schedule.
Unable to wait, Kris opened the letter in their robe, quickly scanning the contents.
First, Kris would face Takeshi from Ikaro.
Thank the elders Lavinia isn’t first, Kris thought, a bit of tension bleeding from their body.
Lavinia from Mertika second. Kris had no doubt that it would be their toughest fight of the Gauntlet.
And third, where Kris expected to see Kensuke from Kakute, the letter read . . . Oda no Michiko.
Michiko, who Kris had dueled and lost to.
Michiko, who had seen more of how Kris fought than anyone on the island save Ojo and Adechike.
“What is this?” Kris asked later, emerging from the bathroom, holding the letter aloft.
“What?” Nik asked, looking up from polishing the Rumikan sword for the day’s use.
“I’m to fight Michiko, not Kensuke. Why would they do that?”
Alyx walked in from the sitting room, attendants trailing them with questions about the celebration party Rumika would be throwing if they won. Alyx raised a hand. They saw Kris, nodded, and left the room.
Nik continued. “Michiko?”
“Yes. Michiko, not Kensuke. Why? Kensuke is the senior; I should be fighting him.”
“Kensuke might be unwell,” Nik offered.
“It could be one of many things,” Alyx added. “An insult, overconfidence, or a necessary substitution due to illness, as Nik said. But it doesn’t change anything. Just two more victories. Not answers, not motives, just focus and follow-through.”
Yes, but why? Kris thought as they made their preparations.
•••
The crowd on the second day was even larger than the first.
Takeshi looked more put together than usual. He was freshly shaven, his hair tied in a high topknot. His blade was short to make bladecrafting easier, with a clamshell hilt, doubtless for the hand protection.
As the two walked to the center to shake, Kris smiled, butterflies in their stomach that they channeled into relentless positivity. “I like this look. I could never make topknots work. Gave me a headache.”
Takeshi’s response was only a nod.
Not in a chatty mood, then, Kris thought.
They shook, and Yochno addressed the crowd again as the pair took their positions.
Kris expected Takeshi to open with an attack. Keep on your feet, boost speed on the way in, and then crowd him, take away the space to craft, Kris thought. They expected this duel to be tiring. They’d need to wear the Ikaran down, unless they landed a lucky touch through his defenses.
The bell rang, and Kris charged. Takeshi traced a wide sigil—Split the Sky. Kris cut Bamboo Form as Takeshi finished the sigil, then used its power to dive five yards to the side to dodge the blue-white bolt of electricity from Takeshi’s sigil.
The lightning arced around again for another try. This time, Kris dropped to the floor, letting the energy fork over them and back toward Takeshi, who banished the sigil with a deft flick of the wrist.
Such control! Kris thought. In Takeshi’s place, Kris wouldn’t have had the time to banish the lightning.
But this one I know, Kris thought as they traced the counter-sigil to Takeshi’s Blazing Bolt. Takeshi’s artistry with the sigil was too strong, too deft for Kris to stop it entirely on the run, but they disrupted it enough to cancel some of the blasts.
The bolts lashed out like scatter shot from a cannon. But there was a hole in the middle of the blossoming array of magic.
It was risky. Kris imagined Alyx’s voice warning them off, but instead, using the reflexes enhanced by Bamboo Form, they jumped forward, blade first, stretching out to become a dart through the air. Kris dove and rolled through without a scratch, coming up within range of the Ikaran. Kris beat the shorter blade aside and began to work at Takeshi’s defenses.
The crowd burst into applause, but the fight wasn’t done yet.
Kris pressed the Ikaran. Even retreating, Takeshi’s precision was impressive. He traced short, precise sigils that pushed Kris away, then another that cost them their footing. Each gave Takeshi time to retreat and start the next sigil.
It was a parade of small disruptions and escapes. Each time Takeshi pulled out an escape, the crowd cheered.
Kris couldn’t just go for an all-out press without risking taking a counter-strike along the way. So instead they used their footwork. Watching Takeshi’s movements, Kris tested right, tested left.
Takeshi favored a back-weighted stance, which meant that there was only so far he could go before he had to step back. Kris used their flexible stance, weight forward then back, left then right, and faked Takeshi into taking a sudden step back, losing his balance. But instead of following, Kris cut Gale Step to enhance their speed on top of the agility.
Takeshi was off-balance as he traced the counter-sigil, so Kris closed again. Their blade whistled through the air, gaining time on Takeshi with each cut and parry.
Just a bit more, they thought.
Kris advanced again, disengaging around Takeshi’s sword, planning to press with disengages and feints until they could gain the fraction of a beat they needed to land a blow.
He parries, I disengage again. . . .
But there was no parry. The blow sliced through Takeshi’s side, yellow sash going red.
Shit. What? Shit.
He should have parried! I didn’t mean to land that, not that hard.
Kris shouted, “Medic!” even before the bells rang out.
The Mertikan doctor dashed across the field, but Kris was already there, putting pressure on Takeshi’s wound.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”
Takeshi looked down, surprised.
“It was a fair blow. I should have caught it.”
The medic’s voice was sharp. “Move aside.” But Kris kept their hands in place, maintaining pressure.
“I’m holding the wound; you cut away his tunic.”
“Let me do my job, Rumikan. You’ve made your point.”
Alyx was there beside them. They’d lost track of the crowd, focusing on Takeshi.
It had been an accident. But would anyone believe that?
Alyx tugged at their shoulder. “Kris, let her work.”
“I’ll be fine,” Takeshi said. Kris saw no resentment or anger in his eyes, but guilt still hung around their neck like dead aerstone.
Alyx offered them a cloth, which Kris used to clean the blood from their hands, from their sword.
This was all wrong.
Kris looked over their shoulder. Lavinia, Michiko, and Bellona stood around Takeshi as the medic worked. Lavinia prowled the edge of the group, her knuckles white on her blade. She caught Kris’s gaze, and Kris’s stomach dropped. She looked like she would take Kris’s head off if given half a chance. She’d have that chance, and soon.
“We need to leave,” Kris said.
“Of course,” Alyx said. “I have chilled hibiscus tea waiting.”
Seldom had winning a duel felt as much like losing.
Chapter 6
Ojo
Ojo found Kris in the temporary chambers they’d been given on the ambassadorial level of the tower. They had a towel over their head, a mug of iced tea at their side. Kris threw back the towel as Ojo and Penelope entered.
They were troubled, doubtless due to Takeshi’s wound. Would that all of the warders had such compassion for their opponents after winning a duel.
“Are you all right? If you wish to be alone, I apologize. We . . .” Ojo looked to Penelope.
“We’d both like to see Lavinia’s ego deflated a few sizes,” she said.
“I . . . I didn’t mean to strike Takeshi that hard. I thought I had better control than that.”
“It happens,” Penelope said. “The wound was not that deep, and the Mertikan obsession with excellence extends to their medics. He’s in good hands. You need to focus on Lavinia.”
They made a circle of the chairs, Kris sitting back against the wall, relaxed but attentive as Ojo and Penelope gave their advice.
Unfortunately, they could not agree in their suggestions.
Ojo raised a finger, pointing. “Against Lavinia, even the smallest error can be your undoing. You can’t count on the brash chances like your dive through Takeshi’s array of bolts.”
“No,” Penelope said. “That boldness is exactly what will let you surprise her. Harness it without losing your control, and you fight inside her range. Use her long limbs against her.”
“But that will expose them to grappling,” Ojo said. “I’ve seen your wrestling skills, Kris. I mean no offense, but you would not defeat Lavinia in corps-a-corps.”
“None taken. I’m not much of a wrestler.”
Penelope shook her head. “You can fight inside her optimal range without letting her get her hands on you. It will be a tightrope, but it can be done. You’re fast; you think well on your feet. If you stay out of range, she’ll rout you with sorcery, and if you try to pick at her, she’ll land a quick blow to your wrist or forearm and that’ll be the end of it.”
Ojo nod
ded. “You can do both. Be deliberate, keep your head on, be prepared for anything. Keep your mind and body flexible. Expect everything. She’s a terror, but she can be beaten.”
“How often have you beaten her?” Kris asked.
“Twice,” Ojo said.
“Three times,” said Penelope.
“Out of how many duels?”
“Too many,” Ojo said.
“Fifteen,” Penelope answered.
Kris gulped audibly.
Ojo put a hand on their shoulder. “You are young yet. There’s something to be said for not fighting this one too hard, Kris. Save your strength for Michiko. You’ll have many chances over the years to learn how to get the best of Lavinia.”
Penelope’s face soured. If Vanians knew the concept of throwing a match, they never acknowledged it.
Kris’s brow furrowed, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to them, either. Was it due to pride or the folly of youth? In the end, it didn’t truly matter for now.
“Thank you,” Kris said. “I’ll do my best.”
“No matter what else happens today, you’ve proven your skills,” Ojo said. “And if the fates are with you, by tomorrow we will get to call you Warder.”
The two stood, then left Kris to make their preparations for the duels ahead.
“Do you think they can do it?” Penelope asked once they were out of earshot.
“Lavinia? I think not. But they have a good chance to beat Michiko, if they fight smart and don’t get carried away with the adventure of it all.”
“And if Lavinia leaves them in any shape to fight.”
Chapter 7
Michiko
Michiko watched from the Mertikan huddle as Lavinia strode out for her duel. Takeshi sat tall beside her, as if to wave off doubts about his health and stamina. He could have easily retired to his embassy to sleep the day off, but he insisted on staying.
Beside her, Bellona said, “How long do you think the upstart can last? I don’t give them more than thirty seconds.”
The Complete Season 1 Page 13