by Devin Madson
“No.”
“Why not? I could kill you with a single kick.”
“With which leg? The one with the arrow in it or the one without?”
Having finished piling the scrolls, he took up a quill and a fresh page and began scratching words in Kisian. We shared a common oral language, but I’d never understood any of the symbols they used to write it down.
I looked back at the opening.
We’re stuck, Cass. Just let it go. It’s for the best.
“You should listen to your friend,” the old man said. “She’s smarter than you.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that your companion is smarter than you. Maybe if you listened more often you wouldn’t be lying here bleeding near my papers.”
“What companion?”
Still writing, the man tapped the side of his head with his free hand.
I tensed like a drawn bow. “How do you know?”
The old man stretched out his arm, the last two inches of his wrist protruding from his short sleeve. In the lantern light a pale red mark glared—a line curved like a snake.
“Did you burn yourself with some sort of iron?”
“No, I was born with it.”
“And what is it?”
“If you don’t know then you’re in for quite the surprise.”
Empress Hana had demanded to see my wrist back in Koi and been surprised to find it bare. Captain Aeneas too.
The man tucked his hand back into his lap. Like his master, he left me with the distinct feeling that, injured leg or no, I was at a disadvantage. He knew things I didn’t and his bored, superior tone was almost as irritating as the Witchdoctor’s.
“So why are you stuck in here instead of getting to ride in the warm, dry carriage?” I said.
“Stuck in here?” He looked up for the first time. “I chose to ride in here rather than get stuck with you, but then you went and got yourself all wet and covered in piss, and of course the young mistress’s health is far more important than mine. He can’t risk her getting wet and sick and dying, so old Kocho has to deal with you instead. And to think I almost stayed home. I’m getting far too old and creaky for these acquisitions, though most of the others aren’t as foul-mouthed and unpleasant. It just goes to show what’s inside does not always match what’s outside.”
He returned to his papers, but his words had whipped raw wounds and I spat at him. I had been aiming for his face but his flash of anger as saliva hit his page made it triumph enough. Without a word he pinched the corner of the paper and lifted it only to let it go over a puddle at my feet. While rainwater consumed it, Kocho dipped his quill in the ink and started a fresh page.
Cass, we need allies, not more enemies.
A smile quirked Kocho’s lips and again he tapped the side of his head with his free hand.
If you can’t be nice then let me talk to him. I promise I’ll let you have the body back when I am done. You could use a break from the pain.
“No.” Too well did I recall being merely a passenger in my own skin, and I was in no hurry to relive the experience. So before she could argue, insist, or take control by force, I cleared my throat and dredged up the persona that had gone unused for many weeks now—Cassandra Marius, finest whore in Genava. Politeness and deference were easier to swallow when I knew them to be an act.
“Where are we going?” I said, disliking the knowing twitch of Kocho’s lips.
“Home.”
“And where is home? Your master appears to be a wealthy man.”
Kocho snorted a rough laugh. “Yes and no. He wants for nothing, but that is not the same thing as being rich to your way of thinking. When you’ve lived out of the world as long as I have you realise how foolish such things as titles and gold are. You begin to measure wealth in knowledge and respect instead.”
That sounded like scripture, so I let it go and said, “No fancy palace then. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No. We keep it secret. Too many people don’t like the master.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
A barb of sarcasm pierced my practised charm, and Kocho gave me a look out of the corner of his eye. “He’s not a Witchdoctor. People just like scary stories to explain what they don’t understand.”
“He put an arrow through me.”
“He’ll take it out again. And he’ll sew you up leaving barely a scar because if there’s one thing the master is good at, it’s bodies. Just leave it in and he’ll fix it once we stop.”
“In the meantime, I’m just meant to sit here and bleed out?”
Kocho sighed. “If you sit still you won’t bleed out.”
“I might.”
“You won’t.”
“You’re a physician then?”
“No, but the master needs you and he likes his subjects healthy, so he would have fixed it already if he thought you were in danger of bleeding out.”
Subject. I didn’t like the sound of that word and my gaze once more shied toward the opening at the back of the cart.
Don’t be stupid. Running isn’t going to work. Besides, we need this man. I thought we just agreed on that?
There is no we, I thought savagely into the safety of my head, my features twisting with silent vehemence. Your attempts to take over my body are what got us here in the first place. Who knows what he really means to do with us.
Anything is better than being your passenger forever.
I scowled at the light twisting its shapes upon the interior of the canvas cover. All of this was the hieromonk’s fault. He had come into my life and offered me salvation in return for just one more kill. I ought to have ended the job free of Her and rich enough to retire; instead I was lying wounded inside a cart that stank increasingly of piss, with not only my eternal companion but also a grumpy old man. To top it off, we were travelling to nowhere with a god-man and a silent bitch, to be poked and prodded to see how I worked, no doubt until I died. Or at least until I wished myself dead.
You’re really dense when you get in these self-pitying moods.
What do you mean? I asked.
You weren’t listening, were you?
I rolled my eyes. I hated her superior tone and She knew it. Listening to what?
The man, Kocho, he said “the master needs you.”
To test stuff on.
Yes, but why put up with a foul-mouthed old whore who threatens to piss on people and spits on their work if you don’t have to? There are thousands of other people he could have picked up. He needs you. Us. Specifically. And that leverage can get us what we want.
I stared at the side of Kocho’s face. He had said we were needed. Had said too that his master wouldn’t let me bleed out.
Let’s see how much leverage I have then, shall we? I said.
I gripped the broken arrow shaft, my heart beating hard at the very thought of what I was about to do.
No, Cass, don’t do—
“No!” Kocho dropped his quill as I tightened my grip and yanked the arrowhead out. I felt the flesh tear as though it were sound, ripping skin and muscle and pain. The space spun and flashes of bright light behind my eyes became spreading darkness. But I dropped my head, fighting to stay afloat, regret bitter like the bile in my throat.
“You fool!” Kocho snapped over the hissing swear words leaving my lips like a leaking bellows. “Master! Master!”
As my head spun and blood leaked onto my hands, I managed a laugh. “Guess I am important after all.”
4. MIKO
I held Hacho to me like a child, protecting her from the rain. It pelted us mercilessly, the high canopy doing nothing more than collecting the drops so they might fall heavier and harder upon our already saturated heads.
Perched on a nearby branch, General Kitado hunched his shoulders like a sodden blackbird. “It doesn’t look like they’ve left anyone behind, Your
Majesty,” he said, having to raise his voice to be heard over the rain. It slapped the leaves like drums. “Seems they don’t plan to split up.”
He scowled through a gap in the trees as the Levanti leader appeared on the road, the distance shrinking his great height. He had donned one of Kin’s battle surcoats. My fingers flexed. I wanted to put an arrow through his eye then rip it from his corpse.
“Careful, Your Majesty,” General Kitado said as I shifted my weight on the branch. “You kill him now and there’ll be no Empress Miko to fight for Kisia.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“It’s next to impossible from here anyway.”
I smiled. “I know.”
At least fifty paces through dancing leaves in the rain, and he a moving figure. Almost the challenge proved too much for my resolve, but I just tightened my hold around Hacho and wondered if my father could have done it.
As the leaves once more swallowed the Levanti leader I relaxed a little. I hadn’t enough arrows to hit them all, but had my life been less important I would have revelled in one last glory as I brought down as many of the usurping bastards as I could. But my life was important. My life and my name and my face. I was the last surviving Otako, and Kisia needed me. Alive.
More Levanti passed beyond the gap in the leaves. A few others wore crimson surcoats heavy with rain while the rest looked the same as they had in battle, only wet and bedraggled. They had carts too, their loads covered and drawn by oxen they had certainly not brought with them. And palanquins. Crimson and gold silk peeked from beneath their rain covers while the carriers wore heavy storm cloaks with the Ts’ai dragon picked out in gold upon their backs.
“Do the Chiltaens have so little respect for us that they would give such things away as the spoils of war?” I hissed, gesturing at the silk-clad Levanti.
“I cannot say, Your Majesty, but that is certainly how it looks.”
“Why are they leaving? Have they been released from service?”
General Kitado shifted his weight. It caused his branch to shake, but the sound was nothing to the rain. “They may also have left because the Chiltaens didn’t pay them enough. Or because the rain is bad for their horses. Better to take their spoils and go.”
“Mercenaries,” I spat. “No sense of loyalty or honour.”
“Better they go. We know how to fight Chiltaens.”
I grumbled agreement and for a time we watched the procession in silence. The worst of the thunder had passed in the night, but the rain showed no sign of letting up. I had often watched such storms vent their rage upon the palace, and though I had dreaded their coming for the isolation they brought, they had never caused me discomfort. General Ryoji had set up archery targets inside at my request, and if I chose to ride, I could always wait for brief respites in the weather. Now I was at its mercy, owning no shelter, no storm cloak, no safety or warmth or food, nothing but my sword and my bow and the stoic company of General Kitado.
“So the Chiltaens have taken Mei’lian,” I said when the main bulk of the Levanti horde had passed. “And even without the Levanti they have still conquered a huge chunk of the empire. We need a plan. We need allies.”
“Minister Manshin said I ought to take you south, Your Majesty. Or to Syan.”
I bit at some dry skin on my lip and stared at nothing. “South where? To whom? Who can we be sure won’t have given their allegiance to Jie?”
“Then to Syan.”
Grace Bahain had been expected at Risian. He had been hoped for at Mei’lian. And he had not come. Grace Bahain was a loyal minister before he became Duke of Syan, Kin had said, with almost his dying breaths. He must be made to remember that. You must help him and his son remember that.
I went on gnawing at my lip, tugging at the dry skin. “Perhaps.” Edo had always shared his news from home on the infrequent occasions his father wrote to him, and no one who had ever heard Grace Bahain’s views on Chiltaens and pirates, and more specifically Chiltaen pirates, could believe he would ally himself with them. But why else had he not come to our aid? Why had Edo not written back?
“Either way, we need to decide,” Kitado said. “We cannot stay here, Your Majesty. The Chiltaens will be looking for you by now.”
The Chiltaens wouldn’t know about the tunnel, but once they had scoured the city for me without success they would hunt me outside its walls, might even consider, as I was doing, what places I might seek refuge.
“Perhaps for now it would be safest to find somewhere to lie low, Your Majesty,” he said when I didn’t answer. “No matter where we travel, being out in the open is a risk.”
“That cannot be helped. It is my job to protect Kisia, and to do so I must find allies.”
“And it is my job to protect you, Your Majesty, but I cannot do that if you will not listen to my advice.”
He did not meet my gaze. I was his empress and he was not allowed to challenge me with a stare whatever our current predicament. “I wish to damn your good advice to the hells, my friend,” I said. “No matter how right I know you are. If we could but find out which of our generals are still alive and where our remaining battalions are, if any have survived. We need information and we won’t get that sitting here at the edge of the fen.”
He didn’t answer, just let the heavy patter of the rain speak the hopelessness he could not voice.
Once the last of the Levanti were long gone, I began the slippery climb back down the tree. It was slow going, ensuring a good grip on slick branches while all around me the rain continued, its drops sticking loose clumps of hair to my forehead and dripping down my back. It would have been easier without Hacho, but I kept my stolen cloak wrapped around her and stopped frequently to swap her hand to hand. Kitado made no complaint despite having to slow his own descent to await mine.
At last my feet found firm ground and I kicked away the leaves covering our supplies. In the tree’s roots, he had left a single water skin, some dried meat that was no longer very dry, and a pair of blankets knotted into a makeshift satchel Kitado carried upon his back. It was soaked through and I was not looking forward to seeking sleep under a sodden blanket with wet leaves for my pillow. I had slept little the previous night even without the rain. Kitado had insisted I try to rest while he kept watch, but all I had achieved was a fitful doze and an aching neck. Three days since we had escaped Mei’lian through the tunnel and already I felt fractured and raw, like I was held together with fraying twine.
A heavy thud heralded Kitado’s return to the ground. He adjusted his sword belt and made to straighten his surcoat only to drop his hand. We had left all imperial trappings behind, thrust down a foxhole where the tunnel had spat us out north of the Tzitzi River.
“If we have scattered battalions left they are more likely to be in the north,” I said, as he took up the soaked blankets in place of his surcoat. “And they won’t expect us to go that way.”
“They won’t expect it because it’s far too dangerous to risk, Your Majesty. The bulk of the Chiltaen force may be at Mei’lian, but they will have small camps linking them back to the border because that’s what Chiltaens do. And they won’t just have one scouting party out looking for you, they’ll have everyone.”
“All right, maybe not north then, but I will not hide.”
He grimaced. “Heading east to Syan may serve the same purpose. The eastern battalions must be out there somewhere.”
I let out a long breath, hating the itch of worry that struck whenever I thought of Grace Bahain. He had been pleased to meet me in Koi, but that had been before Tanaka’s death, before the Chiltaens had poured across the border with their barbarian mercenaries, before everything I had ever known and fought for had come crashing down around me. But Kitado was right. Those battalions had to still be out there.
“Syan then,” I said. “Could we use the river?”
“Too risky this far upstream, but east of Quilin we could, and it would beat walking all the way.”
“We might even get news from Kogahaera at Quilin.”
“Yes, and Grace Bahain is sure to have marched that way if he left Syan. The mangroves along the river are too thick for so many foot soldiers.”
I pressed my lips into a grim smile. “I am pleased to have you agree on something for once, General.”
He shrugged the shoulder not burdened with soggy blankets. “I do not disagree to be contrary, Your Majesty.”
He set off ahead of me, a hand upon his sword hilt and his head always turning, watchful in the downpour. His keen senses had saved us from more than one run-in as we skirted the wild edge of Nivi Fen, though whether we would have encountered enemies or allies or bandits was hard to say. Nivi Fen had always been an inkblot on the empire’s map, a tangled swampland that had rejected all attempts to build on, through, or even near it, and harboured those who wished, for one reason or another, not to come to the emperor’s attention. The rains would flush many of its inhabitants to higher ground, which was as good a reason as any for us not to linger within its grasp.
I followed General Kitado at a distance, trying to keep my thoughts upon our situation and my eyes upon our surrounds. The rain made it difficult, falling upon the landscape like a misty curtain while its endless hammering stole all but the loudest sounds from my ears. I couldn’t even tell where we were going. Everything melded together, the edge of the fen all tall twisty trees choked with vines that trailed across the path to trip unwary travellers. I saved myself from one’s reaching thorns as a road appeared on my left. A road all too like the one we had just watched the Levanti travel.
I stopped. General Kitado walked a few paces then turned back with his sword half drawn.
“We’re going south,” I said, as he slid the blade back into its scabbard and bowed an apology. “I thought we were heading to Syan.”
He readjusted the blankets upon his shoulder. “We will, Your Majesty, but I would rather put a few hours between us and those Levanti heading north. Better to cross the Willow Road closer to the Tzitzi so we can use the mangroves to conceal our passage along the riverbank.”
“And you didn’t tell me because I’m so impatient I would have ignored your fine advice?”