by Devin Madson
“Empress Miko? So she’s definitely not dead.” I looked around at the Kisian soldiers milling in the rain. “That’s what’s upsetting them?”
He shrugged. “I guess so. They might have already known, but if so I’m not sure why they would be so tense. Either way, it’s probably not a good time to tell them we knew she didn’t die at Mei’lian. Although it won’t take long for the soldiers to realise the Bahains already knew too.”
“Shit.”
“I don’t think it will matter. Most of them are as loyal to the duke as we are to our herd masters.” We shared a look. “All right, as loyal to him as we were to our herd masters.”
We watched the scene a few moments in silence, before Matsimelar added, “Although even if none of these lords and soldiers want to support her as their empress, the fact she’s out there still fighting for her empire is bad news for all of us.”
I couldn’t disagree and wondered what Gideon would say. We’d had more deserters disappear in the last few days and he hadn’t yet sent any Swords to quell the uprisings in the north. The indecision was unlike him and this was the last thing he needed on top of that problem. And there was still Leo. The threat Gideon couldn’t even see.
I glanced up at Matsimelar, all youthful features marred by sleeplessness. I didn’t want to ask anything more of him, hated that he had already been put in such a position, and yet there was no one else. “That woman, Livi.”
“What about her?”
His response was chilly, but I forced more words out. “She had a copy of the holy book.”
Silence.
“People are always coming and going from the pilgrims’ residence now,” I went on. “You could go. Just to check on them. Ask for the book. Steal it if you must.”
“Steal it!”
“Shhh,” I hissed. “Matsi, you know I didn’t kill her. You know I didn’t set fire to those books. But both times I’ve asked questions about the faith, pilgrims have been killed.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t defy our gods to ask about theirs.”
I scoffed. “Oh, come on, if our gods were striking them down, they wouldn’t have been killed by people. Tell me this doesn’t seem very strange to you.”
Grace Bahain had finished berating his son and was looking around, taking stock of his small audience. I turned, hiding my face with the stiff side of my hood. “I won’t ask another thing of you.”
“Well, that would be nice. Everyone is always ‘Hey Matsi, what is this soldier trying to say?’ ‘Hey Matsi, can you tell that girl she can ride me?’ ‘Hey Matsi, did he just call me a dog?’”
“What you do for your herd is more valuable than anything the rest of us do. I will speak to Gideon about giving you the chance to be Made, and if he refuses, I will have you Made as a Jaroven and will be honoured to have you as a herd brother.”
A few silent moments stretched their tension between us before he said, “But only if I steal a book for you.”
I ought to say no, but the need for the holy book, to know what Dom Villius didn’t want me to know, burned too hot. I said nothing, knowing my silence was answer enough.
Voices drew close as Bahain’s son and his entourage passed us on their way to the stables. Matsimelar’s dark eyes flitted from me to the duke and back. His jaw set. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Despite the difference in our rank, I pressed my fists together to salute him. “Thank you.”
The young man just grunted.
Gideon was sitting with an unknown Kisian when I went up to his room, and despite having come straight from the courtyard the news had arrived before me.
“You’ve come to tell me about Empress Miko, Captain,” he said as I entered. “There is no need.” He added something in Kisian to the end of this, and the man who had been kneeling beside him at the table, brush in hand, got to his feet. Bowing respectfully to first Gideon then me, he let himself out.
“Who was that?”
“A local scribe. He has been helping me with my Kisian, though as you see, writing it is very hard. I think I will employ scribes forever.” He had gestured at the page before him, a mess of lines and blotches, ink covering the side of his hand. “There was something else you wanted to say, Captain?”
So much, but something in his expression ambushed the first blurt about Leo Villius and instead I said, “Have you decided what to do about the northern unrest? Your Swords are ready to serve whenever you need.”
“Nothing needs to be done about it.”
“Nothing… Do you mean there is no unrest after all?”
He folded his arms. “I am quite capable of making these decisions without your input.”
“Yes, but—”
“Captain Dishiva, if you have nothing more useful to say then do—”
Clacking sandals stormed along the passage. I braced myself as the door slid. “Grace Bahain to see you, Your Majesty,” Kehta en’Oht said, sticking her head into the room. “Shall I…?”
He was right there hovering behind her, his face a calm mask. “Send him in,” Gideon said, and while Kehta slid the door all the way, I shifted to a place against the wall, not ready to leave yet not wanting to be in the way.
Grace Bahain strode in and bowed to his emperor. That at least seemed a good sign and the tone with which he addressed Gideon sounded respectful. I could tell little from his stance and his restrained body language, but watching Gideon I slowly tensed. The Kisian duke was backing Gideon into a corner. Pride stiffened him, but his expression held the hunted look of a bristling dog. I could not begin to imagine what they were speaking about, what concessions were being forced from him, until Gideon looked past Grace Bahain to me.
“Gather half your Swords, Captain,” he said. “We travel to a nearby shrine within the hour.”
“A shrine?”
“Yes, Captain. Kuroshima Shrine. Apparently it is where Emperor Kin was married to his empress and now where I will be married to mine. We will travel with an equal number of Levanti Swords and mounted Kisian soldiers and make the journey as quickly as possible.”
A dozen objections leapt to my mind but the one that found its way out first was: “If you make Lady Sichi’s box carriers run they might fall down dead.”
“She will ride too,” he said. “Bahain assures me she knows how.”
I glanced at the duke, not sure if the gleam of triumph in his gaze was real or imagined.
“Are you… sure this is wise, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.” A snap of frustration. “Organise your Swords. Leave the other half behind to keep the peace here. If we leave soon we should be back in time for a celebratory feast. Apparently, it is not the Kisian way, but it is ours and we will honour it. We all need something cheerful.”
I wanted to ask if the rush to marry was because Empress Miko was known to be alive, if it was to protect his own interests or Grace Bahain’s, or whether the duke was concerned Gideon might change his mind and not marry his niece after all. Was that it? Had Gideon been stalling in the hope of finding Empress Miko? In the hope of marrying her instead? Grace Bahain might have an army, but marrying their empress was a much stronger message to the Kisians that we were here to stay.
Under Grace Bahain’s eye I could voice none of it, could only bow and hurry out, my surcoat snapping like a flag behind me.
With a sharp rap upon the door I strode into Lady Sichi’s room like a whirlwind, interrupting a round of giggling. Nuru was standing before the long mirror, attired not in her usual armour but in a pale silk robe that glowed against the dark hue of her skin. Her hair had been done up too, and Lady Sichi and two of her Kisian companions were moving around her, clucking at creases and tucking up stray hairs.
They all froze at my entrance. Lady Sichi gave me a look of cool enquiry, while her ladies stared at the ground. Nuru, at least, had the sense to look embarrassed. The urge to rip all such finery off her and yell that she was Levanti not Kisian was hastily swallowed. Weren’t we all adopting Kisian
ways? Kisian food? Kisian language? Again I buried my fears about how much we would need to conform for this empire to succeed.
“We are leaving for Kuroshima Shrine within the hour,” I said, addressing myself to Nuru. “Gideon and Lady Sichi are to be married at once. Do whatever you need to get ready. You’ll both be riding.”
Lady Sichi’s eyes widened as I spoke, and not for the first time I wondered how much of our language she really knew. How many Kisians were learning in secret for the sole purpose of being able to spy on us? Leo had.
No, not the time to worry about him. Leo Villius would have to wait.
It was easy to choose the fifty Swords who would accompany the emperor, for only half our horses were fit to travel, Itaghai fortunately amongst them.
The fifty riding with us donned storm cloaks over their crimson, while the rest remained behind under Keka’s command. Lady Sichi and her two companions were dressed and cloaked and mounted on Kisian horses, small beside Nuru e’Torin riding a Levanti steed. She had knotted her long hair tight at the nape of her neck and donned her armour and swords, looking now like the fierce, strong Levanti she had been born.
When we left Kogahaera, fifty Kisian soldiers rode with us, along with Grace Bahain, his son, and half a dozen other lords whose names I could never get right.
Side by side, Grace Bahain and Gideon led the way while I followed like the good guard dog I was. Despite the rain, which fluctuated from pelting to misting and back, my spirit soared to be riding once more. Itaghai had been cooped up in his stable for days, let out for short runs when the weather permitted and left to fret the rest of the time. I had been too caught up in my new duties to do more than leave him in Loklan’s care, but as the wind whipped by my ears it swept my guilt away with it. Whatever we were giving up for the safety of a new home, we would never give up this. Could never. Horses were in our blood.
We rode through the rain-soaked afternoon, alternating between a canter and a walk. Steam rose from our horses but it left them barely winded compared to the Kisians’ lathered and drooping nags.
“Captain.”
I snapped my head around so fast it hurt my neck. “What?”
Jass had drawn his horse up alongside, his face shadowed beneath the jutting peak of his hood. Rain dripped from it and ran in rivulets down the waxed fabric like fine cracks in stone.
“Nothing in particular, Captain, just thought I’d make conversation.”
Around us chatter mingled with the ever-present percussion of hoofbeats and rain. Jass stepped his horse closer as we took a bend in the winding road. He looked capable out of the saddle, but in it I had to admit he was quite a sight. On horseback one couldn’t even tell he was half a head shorter than most Levanti.
“Then by all means start one,” I said.
“What do you think of this sudden marriage?”
I threw him a look. “I thought you meant a light, entertaining conversation.”
“We could do that too. Actually, I’ve been thinking we need to organise a Hoya pitch. A lot of Swords would be glad of the opportunity to play, even in the rain.”
I nodded but said, “I think Gideon’s hand is being forced,” taking care to keep my voice low enough it was for his ears alone. “I’m not sure he wanted to marry Lady Sichi at all despite saying the alliance was important.”
“You think he meant to marry Empress Miko?”
Once again surprised to find he’d had similar thoughts, I nodded. “Yes. He hasn’t said anything, but…”
He edged his horse close enough that our knees touched. “I’ve heard there are about twenty-five Oht Swords who have been missing since we took Mei’lian, yet Captain Yiss doesn’t seem worried and none of the Oht have deserted.”
I stared at him. “You think… searching for her?”
Jass shrugged. “When I heard, I wondered what mission they had been sent on but couldn’t come up with anything. Until now.”
It made sense. Even Grace Bahain could not deny that marriage to Empress Miko would be best for the empire. And if he tried… Maybe Gideon had planned to keep her somewhere safe and marry her when he had gained a little freedom from the duke. I didn’t know enough about politics to see how it could have worked, but that Gideon’s hurried marriage had come hard on the heels of the empress slipping through Bahain’s fingers was no coincidence.
“Makes me wonder what concessions he has to make in marrying a member of Bahain’s family,” Jass went on. “I know fuck all about the way Kisian families work but it must give Bahain some extra power or assurance, or why push for it?”
Sensible words, but the whispered way he spoke made me uneasy. “Why are you telling me this?” I said, shooting him a searching look around the edge of my hood.
“Because you are my captain and I care what happens to our emperor, but if you’ve changed your mind and don’t wish to be burdened with my unconsidered opinions I’ll keep them to myself.”
Every moment I gave him no reassurance I expected him to drop back, but he didn’t. “And honestly,” he added after a long silence, “my old friends are boring these days. I am no longer content with reliving old hunts and talking over old times. I want to create new memories. Here.”
I could not miss the meaningful look but I had no response. Sometimes he seemed so young and awkward, while at others he was serious, and I found I could not pin him down, could get no sense of his age or his intentions or his character, nothing beyond my traitorous body’s interest in having him again.
Fortunately, before my lack of response could be deemed rude, Gideon sped once more into a canter and Itaghai followed, stealing away any further chance at conversation.
There were so many steps. I had thought to find the shrine beside a road, not to have to climb a mountain on foot to reach it, but Kuroshima, it seemed, was special. My Swords grumbled as they dismounted at the edge of a quiet village. Its people eyed us warily.
In the drizzly afternoon Kuroshima village was a hidden hollow of a place surrounded by dense forest on two sides, a river to the east, and the mountain to the south. It had the quiet, untouched look of a holy place, and despite their grumbling, my Swords kept their voices low as though fearing to wake the dead.
Nuru marched toward me as I slid from Itaghai’s saddle. “There are two sets of stairs,” she said without preamble. “Both go to the shrine at the top, and there are no other paths. His Majesty must go up one side and Lady Sichi the other. Send half your Swords on each side and leave five or six here with the horses.”
I blinked at her short, competent orders and stared her down. For a long moment Nuru stared back, far too much assurance in that youthful face. But she was a saddlegirl, no Made Sword yet, and eventually she looked away, murmuring “Captain” and saluting. “They are His Majesty’s orders.”
When I didn’t reply she pouted and turned away, a flash there of the young girl I had gotten used to seeing flounce around in her increasing amounts of Kisian finery.
“That was… interesting,” spoke Jass, reining in beside me. He had ridden the rest of the way at my side even when further conversation had been impossible.
“Yes,” I agreed, looking around as the last of the travelling party arrived in the clearing. Unlike Nuru, Loklan hadn’t given up any of our ways and had ridden at the back, the better to keep an eye on all the horses currently in his care. He had even pushed back his hood to ensure his vision was not impeded. “You’re staying with the horses,” I said as he approached. “We have to walk the rest of the way, so choose five or six others to stay with you while we’re gone. I assume the Kisians will do the same.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Keep an eye on their horses anyway, if you can,” I added. “I don’t want to get stuck out here all night because Lady Sichi’s horse went wandering.”
“Yes, Captain. With your permission I’ll keep Massama and Yafeu with me as I don’t think they’re fit for a long walk.”
“Senet too,” Jass said. �
��Her knees have been giving her trouble since our march south.”
I nodded. “See if there are any others who would struggle with the stairs and keep them with you to guard the horses. We’ll split the rest. I’ll take half up one side of the stairs.” Jass nodded, and reading in his face a determination to remain with me, I added, “And you can take the other half up the other side.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“I’m not a Jaroven.”
“No, but you’re a Sword of the Emperor, so you’re no higher or lower ranked than any of my other Swords, Jaroven or not. With Keka back at Kogahaera and Loklan staying behind, I have no Hand to draw from. So you’re it. Go pick half. You’re with Lady Sichi. I’ll walk with Gideon.”
Leaving him no time to complain, I walked into the crowd of Swords already shouting orders and gathering half as I went. Gideon stood at the base of the stairs, conferring with a man in a long, pale robe, not unlike the one Leo wore but belted in the Kisian style. He had no storm cloak and the fabric was wet through.
Still in her storm cloak, Lady Sichi was recognisable only by the number of people crowding around her at the base of the other stairs. Jass joined them with his half of my Swords, and although Grace Bahain was there with a bunch of his own men, Jass did not hang back. He strode right in, and despite being short and stocky for a Levanti, he stood tall above the duke, a hand upon his swords.
I squashed a smile and waited for Gideon.
“How high are these stairs, Captain?” Tafa en’Oht asked, appearing at my side.
“I have no idea, but if Kisian priests can climb them so can we.”
“You can be sure of that, Captain.”
In truth I wasn’t sure, only determined, and I needed all that determination for the climb ahead. The beginning was easy enough, but I soon realised that for once we were at a disadvantage against our Kisian allies. Their houses were full of stairs and their empire an ever-undulating spread of hills and valleys, of jutting mountains and terraces. They were used to climbing. We were used to flat terrain and sleeping on the ground, and we suffered for it. I knew not how high the stairs would take us, but I was soon regretting my very existence as my thighs cramped and burned. With every step I was convinced I would die if I took another, but the Kisians took another and so I forced my leg up, following the crimson hem of Gideon’s robe.