by Devin Madson
“Has he some more foul-tasting medicine for me?”
“Very likely, Your Majesty.”
“If he wishes to waste his time on so pointless a task then by all means I will come.” This the fiery empress who had first received me in Koi’s throne room, regal and frightening in a space that echoed with power. Now she was being summoned by the Witchdoctor.
“I am coming too,” I said. “I will see the Witchdoctor now.”
Rather than remind me I had no power here, Kocho shrugged. “As you wish.”
I stopped in the doorway. “He already asked for me?”
“No, the mistress wants you. Just for a few preliminary tests so she knows what to expect and how well you respond.”
Out in the passage, Empress Hana stood waiting, but I did not move. I wanted the Witchdoctor to free me, but the word tests conjured every horror story I had ever heard about him, stories of bodies in vats and people going missing in the night only to return twisted and broken. Kocho was kind enough, but the Witchdoctor had sat proud and perfect upon his horse, bow in hand, and stared down at me as though I were but an interesting slug he had deigned to help.
If you don’t walk down there, I will do it for you.
“I can do it on my own, thank you,” I said, not caring that I spoke aloud now they knew me for what I was. That freedom brought an unexpected rush of joy and as I stepped out, I added, “Besides, you aren’t as good at things like walking.”
I would be if you ever let me practice, you body hog.
Kocho laughed, leaving Empress Hana to look from him to me and back again. “I do not understand what is amusing.”
“Kaysa.”
“Kaysa?”
The old man pointed at me. “The second soul inside our Deathwalker. She’s lovely. Shall we go?”
I lingered, frozen there in the passage outside the empress’s room. “Can you always hear Her?”
“I hear lots of things.” Kocho turned and strode off along the passage. “Come on, they’re waiting.”
Kaysa? I said, setting off in his wake.
Yes?
That’s your name?
I… think so? I’ve always liked it. I think it suits my face better than Cassandra.
Uneasiness stirred, but shoving it down, I hobbled on.
Mistress Saki and the Witchdoctor were waiting in a well-lit room containing a pair of workbenches, some shelves, and two real chairs that reminded me of home. Despite their well-worn appearance they looked out of place in so Kisian a house.
No sound greeted us beyond the distant roar of the rain and the faint scratch of quill upon paper. The Witchdoctor and the young mistress sat perched side by side upon stools at one of the workbenches, their heads bent over the same large scroll of parchment held down at either end by jars. Neither spoke, yet each looked at the other while they wrote, engrossed in their activity.
Kocho cleared his throat. Neither of our hosts turned, but the Witchdoctor lifted his hand. “Thank you, Kocho. You will stay to assist Saki.”
“Yes, Master.”
The old man gestured to the chairs, inviting us to sit and wait. Empress Hana didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at Mistress Saki’s profile. I looked from Saki to the empress and back and saw no likeness. Despite her loyalties and her reputation, the empress looked more Chiltaen than Kisian, while Mistress Saki was as classically Kisian as it was possible to look, saving only her oddly coloured eyes.
“It is an interesting theory,” the Witchdoctor said as Mistress Saki rose from her stool. “We may not have time to test it, however. The empress—” He broke off as Saki placed her hand upon his arm, shooting a warning look at us in the doorway. The Witchdoctor came toward us without a welcoming smile—it seemed not to be a part of his facial repertoire. Perhaps he really was the statue he had first appeared, perfect beauty hewn from rock.
“I want you to fix me,” I said, stepping in front of him. My heart raced at my own daring. “I want you to take this… thing out of me.”
I am not a thing.
The Witchdoctor looked me up and down and never had I felt so assessing a gaze. “That is not why you are present today. Nor will I discuss my intentions or the specifics of my experiments with any subject.”
He made to walk past me, but again I stepped in front of him, thrusting out one walking stick. “If I don’t get what I want, I will not be staying.”
So much for lulling them into a false sense of confidence.
The Witchdoctor deigned no reply, just gestured to Kocho.
“Come on, let it go,” the old man said, gripping my elbow and guiding me into the room. He grabbed one of the chairs and drew it across the wooden floor, its legs clunking as he dropped it in place.
He pointed to it. “Sit.”
“Is that required?” I said, clenching the handles of my walking sticks.
“No, but if you prefer not to hit your head it’s wise to listen.”
“Hit my head?”
“Just sit down.”
Do it, Cassandra. This is what we came here for.
I sat, unsure if I had made my legs collapse beneath me or She had. Kaysa. The name echoed in my thoughts and I tried to thrust aside the fear that came with it. She had taken over so easily that night outside Koi.
Don’t think about it, I told myself, hoping She was not listening.
Mistress Saki turned from the bench and, having passed her gaze over Kocho, let it fall upon me. Curiosity lit the young face and she rubbed the thumb and fingers of her right hand together rapidly like someone trying to conjure flame. Then, as though afraid it might sting, she slowly reached her hand toward me. Soft, cool fingers touched my cheek and somehow tugged me forward, dragging me across the blurring room. Everything became shadows and echoes like a woollen blanket lay draped over my head. And then, a background hum became voices and I was looking at myself through the fog. Myself, sitting in the chair looking stunned and confused, blinking rapidly and pressing fingers to my own face.
Well, someone said, and it was not Her, but another voice. That’s new.
I did not hear a reply but felt it, a sense of agreement, of excitement, and the image of me tilted as though being examined from a different angle. Kocho appeared through the same fog, his mouth open as he looked from me to… me.
I tried to shift the confusion muddying my mind.
Don’t worry, you get used to it, spoke the new voice. Although it can be hard to hear when it gets crowded.
Crowded? Where am I? I asked, but as I looked down at a hand rubbing thumb and forefinger together, I needed no answer. It came anyway.
Welcome to the body of Saki Laroth.
9. DISHIVA
Tea bowls clinked as the tray was set between us. With a tiny gesture full of authority, Lady Sichi dismissed the maid, leaving us staring at one another over the steaming pot. Tea was not common on the plains. It could be bought in Tempach and a few Levanti had taken a liking to it, but it was still just a drink. Here it was a ritualised part of every day in the same way we tended our horses and checked the water levels in the barrel wagons—little things that any day would feel wrong without.
I shifted my weight on the matting. I was used to sitting for everything from meetings to meals, but the Kisian way of kneeling was different and I wondered if it was rude to cross my legs instead.
Lady Sichi stretched her hand across the table toward the teapot, her arm encased in shimmering silk. “Thank you for joining me, Captain Dishiva,” she said in creditable, if stiff, Levanti.
I glanced up at Nuru, standing to the side of the table—she the only member of the empress-to-be’s retinue who was present. “She wished to memorise a greeting phrase to make you feel more comfortable,” the girl said a little snappishly. “Just say thank you.”
“Thank you, Lady Sichi.”
The Kisian woman stretched a thin smile and poured a steaming bowl of tea for me. It smelled floral and a little bitter, a surprisingly pleasant mix. As sh
e poured her own bowl she spoke again, this time in the lilting Kisian I was used to hearing.
“It is a great comfort to know you are in charge of our protection, Captain,” Nuru said, translating so smoothly as she went that I wondered how much of this had been rehearsed. “It is a fine thing to be able to trust in one’s safety.”
I answered with a nod, unsure if she meant it or it was a thinly veiled hint she didn’t trust me at all. The Kisians were not expressive and she might have been a sculpture for all her face moved.
“It is also very pleasant to have a female guard upon whom I can rely,” Nuru went on a few beats after Lady Sichi. “I am sure you have noticed, Captain, that women in Kisia do not bear arms or hold such positions.”
“I did notice that, yes. Except for Empress Miko, who I saw ride into battle at Risian.”
The flicker of some emotion crossed the lady’s face so fast it was impossible to tell what it meant. “Yes,” she said, and Nuru mimicked her cool tone. “Empress Miko ever strives to be an exception.”
When I didn’t answer, Lady Sichi took up her tea bowl in both hands and drew a deep breath of its scented steam. She blew on it. Once. Twice. Three times. Then lowered it to say, “You have perhaps also noticed that Kisian women are not allowed to be present at discussions of politics, even when they are to be an empress. Even when…” She looked at me directly for the first time since she had begun speaking. “The entire alliance by which we sit here today was brokered upon my marriage.”
It was all I could do not to squirm beneath that clear, unblinking gaze, the kneeling position suddenly three times more uncomfortable than it had been before.
Feeling called upon to answer, I said, “I have, yes.”
Once again, she lifted the bowl and gently blew the steam from the tea’s surface. “It is not in my nature to allow myself to appear weak or desperate without good cause, so I hope you will appreciate how difficult this is for me, Captain. Power comes from knowledge and survival comes from power, and I wish more than anything to survive. Whatever information you are able to give me about the shifting alliances in the meeting room would be very useful. I do not wish to put my faith in the wrong people.”
Despite her lack of expression there was a vibrancy to her voice I could not ignore. A deep pool of emotion lay behind the mask and I pitied her, yet this woman was Kisian, the niece of Gideon’s most powerful ally, and not someone I ought to trust.
I shifted my bowl for something to do, something to look at that was not her. “If… if Gi—Emperor Gideon has not chosen to take you into his confidence then I do not feel it is my place to go against his wishes.”
To my surprise, she smiled at that. “I believe His Majesty is rather too busy at present to have even considered my future part in this. I have come to doubt I will get any… attention from him until the consummation of our marriage.”
A faint blush coloured her cheeks, but she looked at me with a directness that belied, or perhaps defied, any embarrassment. I considered replying with the same degree of honesty and explaining Gideon’s disinterest, but I had been in Kisia long enough to see just how different their society was and kept my mouth shut. I could not tell how she would take it.
Not receiving an answer, Lady Sichi put her bowl down. She hadn’t taken a single sip. “I have done you the courtesy of being honest and open. It is not a common thing in Kisia, you will find, Captain. Lies and manipulation are far more useful tools and most nobles are well used to the game. All I request in return is that you are equally honest with me. If you have been warned not to communicate with me and not to trust me, then say so.”
I had not, and yet despite her show of vulnerability and how much I disliked the way the Kisians treated their women, I could not risk trust, not even of information that to me appeared to have little value.
I set my tea bowl from me, equally untouched. “I’m sorry I cannot be of more use,” I said. “I am not unsympathetic to your position and will continue to do all in my power to ensure your protection, but it would be against my honour to speak information Gideon has not himself divulged.”
A brief nod, lacking all surprise, before Nuru had made it even a few words into her translation. “At least in that I hope I may rely on you, Captain Dishiva.”
Was she questioning my loyalty? Suggesting I would let harm come to her by deliberately turning my back? It was impossible to tell but there was a hard, assessing look in her eyes I found it difficult to meet. “Of course, Lady Sichi” was all I could say, and was grateful that the following nod was a dismissal in every language.
Performing the task usually left to Lady Sichi’s servants, Nuru slid the door open and ushered me out into the dim passage. Rather than closing it behind me she stepped out too, shutting Lady Sichi in alone.
“She is not plotting against us, Captain,” Nuru said, her hushed whisper cutting straight to the point. “Whichever Kisians you fear are our enemies, she is not. It is hard for us to understand, but in Kisian society the act of marriage means she is wholly in Gideon’s power and reliant upon him for protection. The wives of failed emperors are not well treated and she will not be spared for being Kisian if he falls. Keep that in mind next time. Please.”
She was gone before I could reply, her fierce sentiments echoing in my chest even once she’d closed the door behind her. Needing to escape the oppressive manor, I strode away, determinedly not looking back at the door to what I now couldn’t help but think of as Lady Sichi’s pretty prison.
Rain had been steadily beating down since we had arrived in Kogahaera, with only occasional breaks for the world to draw breath, but sunshine peeked through the clouds now, flecking the mud and stones with dazzling gold. From the front steps I caught sight of Lashak standing by the stables and made to join her, only for Jass en’Occha to appear before me.
“Captain Dishiva,” he said, owning a solemn look.
“Jass en’Occha,” I said, striving for aloof pride though I had not been able to think of that night without a stab of shame.
When his cheeks flushed and he looked over my shoulder I knew he had recalled it too. Despite his broad musculature and the seriousness of his features, I added blushing to the list of ways he appeared young, along with his twitch of a smile and his carefree laugh.
Having expected him to greet me awkwardly, salute, and move on, I lifted my brows when he remained hovering. “Is there something you wish to say, Sword?”
“I… understand you are short a full complement of Swords to protect the emperor. I wish to offer my blades in service.”
“Have you spoken to Captain Taga about this?”
“I have, yes. She understands and respects my desire to protect Emperor Gideon and gives her permission.”
I was still at least a dozen Swords short despite having taken on many, but I had hoped to make up those numbers with Levanti who did not make me feel uncomfortable.
“Then by all means,” I said, having no good reason to refuse him. “I am glad to have you. We are quartered in the barracks within the manor. If you keep walking along the main passage to the far stairs you will find it. Keka, my second, should be there.”
Jass saluted. “Yes, Captain. Thank you, Captain.”
I made to move on, but he sidestepped into my path only to step back out of it again. “Sorry, Captain, I just also wanted to say…” He gripped his hands behind his back, standing to attention, his look something of a challenge. “I just wanted to say I was sorry for the other night. I have great respect for you and regret my words.”
I ought to have returned the apology. He had given me the perfect opportunity to make amends now we would be working together, but I could not spit the words out. He had gifted me too good a chance to sidestep responsibility for my actions, and I grasped at it like a drowning woman sucking down air. “Thank you,” I said, and before he could say more, before I could say more or even think about it a moment longer than I had to, I nodded and walked away. I was halfway across
the yard, walking blindly, before Lashak’s voice recalled me to a sense of my original purpose.
“Di! Don’t wander off on me, you dreamer.”
She waved when I turned around, and grinned as I joined her beneath the eave of the main stable. “Sorry, my mind had wandered.”
“Yeah, I could see that.” She nodded in the direction of the steps where I had stood talking to Jass. “That boy has been hanging around for the last hour.”
“He is hardly a boy.”
Lashak shrugged, picking something out of her teeth. “All Swords still in their first terms of service are children to me, Di.”
“He wants to be one of my Swords and guard Gideon.”
“Oh yes, and that’s all?”
I thought of the night in Itaghai’s stall and made fists upon fidgeting fingers. It had not been possible to find new partners, my cycle having shifted into fertile days and there being no supply of epaya here. There had been a lot of other things on my mind, but it had added a layer of frustration at this strange society we were to become a part of. Did they just… have babies whenever they liked without thought to the consequences?
Lashak set her hand on my arm. “How are you?”
The understanding of a fellow sufferer always made a lump form in my throat. “Fine. I keep busy. Don’t think about it.”
Tightening her grip, Lashak bent her lips to my ear. “I heard yesterday that it happened to Yiss as well,” she whispered, and I turned, hunting untruth in her face. But there was just a twisted half smile full of apology it should never have been hers to give.
“That makes it even more surprising she voted not to attack the Chiltaens,” I said. “Did they…all the captains?”
“All the females at least. The only men I’ve heard tell of are young bloods and saddleboys.”
I gave a grunt of understanding but in truth I did not understand at all. It made sense to demoralise captives by shaming their leaders, but that the Chiltaens had chosen only to attack and degrade female leaders was irrational.