by Devin Madson
Edo turned then, getting to his feet. “Captain Nagai, what is—?”
The soldier took one step into the room and bowed, leaving the rest of his men bottled in the passage. “There has been an incident,” the captain said, his voice sounding stuffy. Blood crusted his nose. “The two Levanti have demanded to see the empress on terms it seemed… unwise to refuse.”
“How so?”
“The tall one, the emperor’s brother, threatened to slit his own throat if he was not allowed to speak to her and given his… value to His Grace…” Here the man’s gaze flicked my way, expecting a reaction. Was this a trusted man left to ensure I made it into Grace Bahain’s hands?
“Could you not sort this out yourself, Captain?” Edo said.
The captain’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I could have done that, yes, but I thought you said you were the master here in your father’s absence, not me.”
He stepped farther into the room, uncorking half a dozen soldiers and two Levanti from the passage. They crowded in around the serving girl, Rah and Tor in the middle of the pack. Like the captain had said, Rah had a blade pressed to his throat and blood oozed from a cut, a warning he would make good on his promise. Had anyone else threatened such a thing I would not have believed them, but I had seen enough of Levanti determination to be sure he would. The guards seemed to have felt the same, though the lack of respect apparent between Edo and Captain Nagai might have played into Rah’s hands.
I rose to my feet, forcing a welcoming smile despite wishing I could send them all away. The situation was fraught enough without adding still more variables I could not control.
“Rah. Tor,” I said as the two Levanti stepped forward, Rah’s blade unmoving and Tor’s expression a dead mask. “I am sure whatever you have to say can wait until tomorrow. I was just about to retire for the night and—”
Rah spoke, his confident words filling the space. Eyes swung to Tor, and the young man’s lip curled.
“As your protector, Rah would like to know if you are ready to depart as planned. He can have Jinso saddled at once.”
So calm a speech was at odds with the blade he kept pressed to his own throat, such that even without the emphasis upon the word protector I couldn’t have missed their meaning. Somehow they knew, and whatever I had feared, neither could have had anything to do with it. That ought to have been a relief, a joy that these two men had risked their own safety to warn me, but it could not but throw into sharp relief the actions of my own people. The people I ought to have been able to trust.
“Now would be good,” I said, fiercely hoping it might for once be that easy. “I have done all I came here to do and would prefer not to be a burden upon Lord Edo’s hospitality any longer.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Captain Nagai said. “His Grace requires your presence in Kogahaera, Your Majesty.”
If there had been little air before, it all dried up then and I could not breathe, could only stare from him to the Levanti to Edo, heart hammering. They had come to warn me, but had brought with them six armed soldiers intent on my capitulation.
My options were painfully slim. Agree to go and end up married to Edo’s father, the very man who had let all this happen, or refuse and fight.
The captain lifted his brows, mocking my indecision.
I drew myself up. “That, Captain, is not how one makes an invitation to an empress. If His Grace is desirous of my assistance, he ought to send me a formal request or, even better, make it himself. And you, Captain, ought to be disciplined for daring to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
Shocked silence met this speech, cocky assurance wiped from every watching face. A moment passed in which I thought I might have won them, hoped I might get out of this with words instead of steel, but they saw no empress, just a gangly girl in their master’s colours claiming a throne she could never win.
Captain Nagai smiled, but all kindness and humour had drained from his face. “A fine speech, Your Majesty, but I have my orders. You’ll go to Kogahaera whether you want to or not.”
Rah had not shifted the blade from his throat but his eyes darted now as he hissed at Tor, demanding answers. The young man seemed amused, detached enough from the scene to care nothing for the outcome.
“No,” I said. “I will not.”
The captain lifted his brows. “No?”
“No.”
My pounding heart beat loud against the silence. A smile twitched the captain’s lips, and his gaze flicked over my shoulder.
Rah dropped his blade. “Empress!”
I spun, catching a flurry of linen to the chest as the serving girl leapt. A small blade slit a searing line across my cheek as I stumbled back, slamming into a wall of sweat and armour and all too many arms. Shocked gasps and cries stuffed the air, but I dropped before anyone could grab me, and scurried on hands and knees across the matting. Shouts and pained cries erupted behind me. Thudding footsteps. A crack of something hitting stone. The serving girl lunged, her blade coming at me like the fangs of a silent but determined snake. It bit the matting by my ear, only to be torn free and plunged into where she thought I would go next. But I rolled into her legs, knocking them from under her. She toppled over me but gripped my ankle as I sprang for freedom. No words. No threats. She just dug her fingertips into my leg and yanked me off my feet.
My chin hit the matting first and every sound in the room melded with the stunned ringing in my ears. I needed to move but could not. Somewhere Shishi was barking. Footsteps juddered the floor. Light flickered and I blinked and blinked and tore through the shock until at last my arms moved, dragging me up, my head throbbing. The serving girl was screaming. Shishi had gripped her ankle and she was trying to shake the dog free, hissing in pain as long teeth sank through her skin.
Forgetting the dagger tucked into my sash, I charged, locking my arms around her waist and pushing her back so fast her feet scurried to maintain balance. With one great kick she sent my dog flying, but though I let her go, she dragged me on by fistfuls of silk. Together we barrelled through the open mouth of the one-time cave and out onto the slick stone balcony. She hit the railing first, sending it ringing like a gong, and had I not been bent low she might have thrown me right over. Instead she gave a grunt of effort, levering against the railing as she strained to haul me up. I tried to drop, but her grip on my robe was too strong and my feet lifted from the stones. Panic washed over me. With handfuls of silken decadence she was going to throw me to the jagged rocks, and there was nothing I could do.
I thrashed, but the serving girl seemed to have the strength of two men and both of their determination. I kicked every part of her I could reach, but she just tightened her grip on my collar and arched back over the railing. I screamed as we drew face to face over the dark abyss. “Goodbye, Majesty,” she said, a manic light shining in her eyes.
She smiled, and in that single moment of calm I pulled the knife from my sash. My arms were too caught to strike her, but as she twisted to throw me over, I sawed through silk. The sash was thick, but my weight helped to snap the threads. And throwing up my arms, I slid out the bottom of my robe.
I dropped, stunned, as the silk robe flapped like a flag in the ferocious wind. The railing juddered. Followed by silence.
“Miko!”
Edo’s sandals skidded upon the wet stone as he slid to a halt at my side, a bloodied table knife clattering from his stained fingers. “Miko, are you all right?”
Dazed, I tried to swallow my lump of fear. There was no sign of the serving girl or my robe, only darkness beyond the edge of the balcony.
“Miko?”
I looked around. “Shishi?”
“She’s fine.”
The Cavern opened behind him like a golden-lit maw, the figures of Rah and Tor standing in the place of teeth. “We took them by surprise,” Edo said, perhaps thinking it was the sight of the bodies that stung my eyes with tears. “They didn’t expect all three of us to attack, and you r
unning into them like that knocked them off guard.” His voice trembled as he went on. “More will come when they don’t report back. We have to get you to a boat. Now.”
“My bow,” I said, letting Edo help me to my feet. “And my sword. I’ll get—”
“No, it’s too risky. Servants will see you in that part of the castle. We have to go now.”
He dashed back into the Cavern. I hated to leave my father’s bow anywhere, but he was right. To risk everything for it was madness.
“I thought you said your father wanted to marry me,” I said, feet still caught in place.
“He does.” Edo’s expression darkened. “My test of loyalty was to take you to him at Kogahaera.”
“Then why did that woman try to kill me?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Was she one of your servants?”
He shook his head slowly. The guards had made no threat against my life, had sounded shocked even as the woman lunged for me, yet now they all lay dead and I had no answers.
Edo walked to the door. “We should go before anyone else comes.”
I looked at Tor, standing with Rah in the middle of the floor, blood splattering their already mud-stained clothes. “You need to get out of here too,” I said. “Lord Edo has prepared a boat.” It was not quite an invitation, not quite a question, but Tor seemed to understand it all the same and gave a short nod. He did not meet my gaze, however, or translate my words for Rah. Neither seemed to be looking at the other.
With no time to wonder what could have happened to them, I walked to the door, Shishi at my heels.
Rather than risk meeting more guards or servants in the upper castle, Edo led us into a narrow side passage ending in tight, spiral stairs. They spun down into the rock, a lantern at every bend all that kept the darkness at bay.
More darkness met us at the bottom, and doubling back, Edo brushed past me to snatch the bottom-most lantern from the stairwell. Its trembling light filled yet another narrow passage echoing with the thunder of crashing waves.
“Without going through the front gates there are only two ways out of the castle,” Edo whispered as he walked, his voice bouncing off the stone. “Through the drain that leads out into the city, which won’t be safe enough, and by boat. Syan is a busy port. Ships come and go at all hours. No one will notice one more.”
The breaking of the ferocious waves grew louder and wind blustered down the passage from an archway at the end, sharp with the tang of salt and seaweed. Firelight called us on, but Edo stopped. “There’s a lookout,” he said, without turning to face me. “On a platform above the jetty. There’s no way to take him out without raising the alarm and no way to take a boat without him seeing you. So the moment you step through that door you have to get in a boat and be out of here as soon as you can. I’ll hold them off if I must.”
“Edo.” I reached for his shoulder only to clench my fingers to a fist and let it drop. Too much history. Too much heartbreak. “You have to come with us.”
He turned, the lantern lighting his pained face from below. “No, Koko,” he said, and my heart broke anew at his use of my old nickname and his wry, twisted smile. “I cannot run from this. I only ever wanted two things out of life. One is gone and can never come back. The other is here. This is my home. This is my heritage. This is the only place I have and the only way I can help. If I leave now my father will disown me, and how then will I make a difference?”
Unable to speak, I nodded. Without him I would be rowing out into a storm with only two Levanti for company. I might have laughed had I not been so close to tears.
“I will take the drain to the city.”
The unexpected words spun me around. Tor stared back, his features more like a collection of shadows than a face. “I have already come too far upon this foolish errand and I will go no farther.”
Edo lifted his lantern and I looked to Rah, but the shorn Levanti was watching Shishi milling around our feet, her tongue lolling. “I am sorry you got caught up in this,” I said to Tor. “The city may be dangerous. If you come in the boat I can set you down wherever you wish. It would be safer.”
The young man gave a determined little shake of his head and looked at none of us.
“Very well,” Edo said at last. “The grating is on the far side of the jetty. If you let Empress Miko step out first the lookout will run for help and you might be able to get through unseen.”
The young man did not thank Edo, but he nodded and kept his gaze averted from Rah as Rah kept his averted from me. One Levanti for company then. I tried to tell myself I needed no one, but the thought of rowing out into that storm alone made my stomach clench tight. “Remember,” Edo said, glancing from me to Rah. “Be quick and don’t stop. Let’s go.”
He walked on, stepping through the archway with the stiff-backed pride of a man intent on seeing this through.
The jetty was no outdoor harbour, rather a cave cut in beneath the weight of the castle above. Water dripped from the stone ceiling and the wind blustered in, sending the oil-soaked torch flames streaming. Waves washed in from the stormy sea, bobbing half a dozen small boats—the largest owning ten oars and a mast that almost touched the low ceiling, the smallest a one-man rowboat.
No guard. No sign of where the lookout hid. No shout as we entered, though no doubt the man was already running for help before Edo even closed the heavy door behind us.
“Quick, to the boat,” he said, waving us toward the nearest, a small craft with three sets of oars and a mast at least twice my height, its sail tightly furled. “Don’t touch the sail; you won’t want it in this storm.” He reached into one of the many barrels and withdrew a satchel, thrusting it into my arms. “Take this. Some supplies I packed while you were bathing. I couldn’t get much at short notice with so many people watching, but it should help. Go south. Father’s influence as good as ends at the mouth of the Tzitzi since he’s not well loved by the southerners.”
Almost I pointed out that neither was I, but with a rough shove he pushed me toward the boat. Rah stood beside it, eyeing the rocking hull warily.
“That’s the drain,” Edo went on, pointing to a grating at the opposite end of the slick stone jetty. “It comes out in the city. I can’t guarantee someone won’t follow you or that you’ll be able to get out if they lock the gates, but perhaps if you lie low or put on some Kisian clothing—”
“I can look after myself,” Tor said, and strode toward the grating. Rah had climbed inside the rocking boat and eyed his companion as the young man unhooked the drain cover. He spoke and was ignored. He repeated himself, louder, but Tor did not reply until Rah made to get out of the boat. Whatever the words he snapped back made Rah scowl, his face reddening, but before he could speak again or move at all, Tor slid into the drain and was gone.
I threw the satchel into the boat, just missing Rah’s feet. He seemed to have frozen in place staring at where Tor had disappeared. Shishi panted beside me.
“I’m sorry, girl, but you have to stay,” I said, and though I had known this moment would come, tears bit at my eyes as I knelt to once more bury my face in her fur. “You have to stay and be safe, my one and only friend.”
Something slammed against the door, shattering the peace. It came again like the fist of a giant beating upon the wood.
“Shit,” Edo hissed. “You have to go. Give her to me and get on that boat. Go!”
Another boom. Frenzied words poured from Rah’s lips. He was working the mooring knot loose and beckoned me to hurry. Sucking one last deep breath of Shishi’s fur, I rose and turned away, blinking back tears as I stepped into the boat. The sound of shattering wood filled the cave.
The boat rocked as Rah freed it from its moorings, but before he could push us away from the jetty Shishi squirmed from Edo’s grip.
“No! Shishi!”
A strangled cry left my lips as she leapt, landing in the boat with a clatter of claws to abase herself at my feet, her tail wagging. She licked my toe
s as the shattering wood melded with the storm. The head of a maul was sticking through the door.
“Sorry!” Edo called over the crack of the maul being ripped out. The roar of the waves and the wind grew as Rah used the oar to pole us clear of the cave mouth. “I’m sorry!” Edo shouted again, but the warm snuffle of Shishi’s breath against my feet lightened a heart too long weighed down with dread. Even as Edo turned away to face his father’s soldiers, the tears spilling down my cheeks were tears of the fiercest joy.
13. DISHIVA
They buried the soldier the following morning with his head still attached. It took two men many hours to dig a hole outside the walls, and while they lowered the body into it, all but one of the pilgrims gathered in the rain to watch. That was how those of the faith farewelled their dead. Leo had been given permission to leave the compound and speak blessings over it himself.
A tragic accident, it had been pronounced, and every horse master told to keep careful watch over their redcap supply. Yet still there were whispers. Had it been a Levanti? Someone intent on harming Gideon’s image? Or someone, like Grace Bahain, who didn’t like the arrival of Leo Villius and his supporters? I was sure it had been Leo himself, but Gideon blamed recent Levanti deserters and his words were pinpricks of doubt upon my certainty. Ptapha had left that day. And he had been close to Loklan, our horse master, who had a supply of redcap. It fit very neatly together, yet still my gaze shied toward the man they called Veld Reborn.
But why? Why kill one of his own people? The question had plagued me half the night, tossing and turning on my sleeping mat as I revisited the sight of Nods dead upon the table. Because of me, was the reason I kept returning to, because he didn’t want me to talk to the man. But what could the guard of a Kisian nobleman say that Leo didn’t want me to hear? Didn’t want us to know.
I needed an answer, so while Leo was busy saying prayers over the dead man’s grave, I took Matsimelar to visit the pilgrim who had remained behind. The pilgrims had been quartered in a sprawling building within our compound, and there we found the Chiltaen woman huddled in a mound of blankets beside a low brazier. Last night’s rain had not abated and we entered with water dripping from our storm cloaks. We left them by the door but couldn’t help tramping mud along the narrow passage.