“Soldiers. Farmers. Small landholders. A few very brave Otako loyalists who feel they have nothing to fear expressing such ideas here. Nothing you need worry about, my prince.”
My prince. It wasn’t a common turn of phrase, but we had long ago learnt to listen for such things, to hear the messages hidden in everyday words. Tanaka nodded his understanding but stayed his ground, tall and lean and confident and drawing every eye.
“General?” A guard ran toward us. “General Ryoji, His Majesty demands you order these delinquent soldiers and their company out of his way immediately.”
Ryoji did not stay to utter further warning but turned his horse about, and as he trotted toward the head of the procession, I followed. “Miko,” Tanaka hissed. “We should stay here with—”
“Walk with me,” I said, returning to grip his hand and pull him along. “Let’s be seen like heirs to the Crimson Throne would be seen at such a time.”
His weight dragged as Mother called a warning from behind her curtains, but I refused to be afraid and pulled him with me.
Ahead of our cavalcade, General Ryoji had dismounted to stand before the protestors on equal ground. “As the commander of the Imperial Guard, I must request that you remove yourselves from our path and make your grievances known through the proper channels,” he said. “As peaceful as your protest is, continued obstruction of the emperor’s roads will be seen as an act of treason.”
“Proper channels? You mean complain to the southern bastards who have been given all our commands about the southern bastards who have been given all our commands?” shouted a soldier near the front to a chorus of muttered agreement. “Or the southern administrators who have taken all the government positions?” More muttering, louder now as the rest of the blockade raised an angry cheer. “Or the Chiltaen raiders who charge into our towns and villages and burn our fields and our houses and murder our children while the border battalions do nothing?”
No sense of self-preservation could have stopped a man so consumed by anger, and he stepped forward, pointing a gnarled finger at his emperor. Emperor Kin broke off his conversation with Father Okomi and stared at the man as he railed on. “You would let the north be destroyed. You would see us all trampled into the dust because we once stood behind the Otako banner. You would—”
“General,” His Majesty said, not raising his voice, and yet no one could mistake his words. “I would continue on my way now. Remove them.”
I stared at him sitting there so calmly upon his grand horse, and the anger at his attempt on Tanaka’s life flared hot. He would as easily do away with these protestors because they inconvenienced him with their truth.
Slipping free from Tanaka, I advanced into the open space between the travelling court and the angry blockade to stand at General Ryoji’s side.
“No blood need be shed,” I said, lifting my voice. “His Majesty has come north to renew his oath and hear your grievances, and if they are all indeed as you say, then by the dictates of duty something will be done to fix them. As a representative of both the Otako family through my mother’s blood and the Ts’ai through my father’s, I thank you for your loyalty and service to Kisia but must ask you to step aside now that your emperor may pass. The gods’ representative cannot make wise decisions from the side of a road.”
Tense laughter rattled through the watchers. They had lowered their prayer boards and stood shoulder to shoulder, commoners and soldiers together watching me with hungry eyes. Their leader licked his lips, looking to General Ryoji and then to Tanaka as my twin joined me. “You ask us this as a representative of your two families,” the man said, speaking now to my brother rather than to me. “You would promise us fairness as a representative of your two families. But do you speak as His Majesty’s heir?”
General Ryoji hissed. Someone behind me gasped. The man in the road stood stiff and proud in the wake of his bold question, but his gaze darted about, assessing risks in the manner of an old soldier.
“Your faith in me does me great honour,” Tanaka said. “I hope one day to be able to stand before you as your heir, and as your emperor, but that is the gods’ decision to make, not mine.” He spread his arms. “If you want your voices heard, then raise your prayer boards and beseech them. I would walk with you in your troubles. I would fight your battles. I would love and care for all. If the gods, in their infinite wisdom, deem me worthy, I would be humbled to serve you all to the best of my ability.”
His name rose upon a cheer, and I tried not to resent the ease with which he won their love as the crowd pressed forward, reaching out to touch him as though he were already a god. He looked like one, his tall figure garbed in gold as the people crowded in around him, some bowing to touch his feet and to thank him while others lifted their prayer boards to the sky.
We had been careful, had spoken no treason, yet the more the gathered crowd cried their love for their prince the more dangerous the scene became, and I lifted shaking hands. “Your love for my brother is overwhelming,” I said to the noise of their prayers and their cheers. “But you must now disperse. Ask them to step aside, Tana, please.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he whispered. “To let His Majesty see what he ought to do?”
“He has already seen enough. Please, ask them to disperse. Now.”
“For you, dear sister.”
“Listen now.” He too lifted his arms, and where the crowd had ignored me, they descended into awed silence for him. “It is time to step aside now and make way for His Imperial Majesty, representative of the gods and the great shoulders upon which Kisia—”
While Tanaka spoke, I looked around to see the emperor’s reaction, but a dark spot in the blue sky caught my eye. An arrow arced toward us, slicing through the air like a diving hawk.
“Watch out!”
Someone screamed. The crowd pushed and shoved in panic and Tanaka and I were trapped in the press of bodies. No guards. No shields. And my hands were empty. There was nothing I could—
Refusing the call of death, I snatched the first thing that came to hand—a prayer board from a screaming protestor—and thrust it up over our heads. The arrowhead splintered the wood. My arms buckled, but still vibrating, the arrow stuck. For a few long seconds, my ragged breath was all the sound left in the sultry afternoon.
“They attacked our prince under a flag of peace!”
The shout came from behind us, and the leader of the blockade lifted his arms as though in surrender. “We didn’t! We wouldn’t! We only ask that His Majesty name his heir and—”
An arrow pierced his throat, throwing him back into the men behind him, men who lifted their prayer boards and their white flags, begging to be heard, but imperial guards advanced, swords drawn. One slashed the throat of a kneeling man, another cut down someone trying to run. A few of the protesting soldiers had swords and knives, but most were common folk who had come unarmed.
“Stop. Stop!” Tanaka shouted as blood sprayed from the neck of the closest man. “If I do not—”
“Back to your carriage!” General Ryoji gripped Tanaka’s arm. “Get out of here, now.”
“But they did not—”
“No, but you did.”
I followed as he dragged Tanaka away from the chaos and back to the cavalcade to be met with silent stares. Mama’s hand had retreated back inside her curtained palanquin, but His Majesty watched us pass. Our eyes met. He said not a word and made no gesture, but for an instant before doubt set in, I was sure he had smiled, a grim little smile of respect. Wishful thinking. No more.
Edo stood waiting at the door of the carriage but slid out of sight as Ryoji marched Tanaka up to it and thrust him inside. He held the door open for me to follow, and I took my seat, trembling from head to foot.
Still holding the door, the general leant in. “Do you have a death wish, boy?”
“I was the one trying to stop anyone getting killed, General, if you didn’t notice.”
“And painting a great b
ig target on your back while you did it.”
“They loved me!”
General Ryoji snarled an animal’s anger. “You think it was you they were cheering for? They weren’t even seeing you. That was Katashi Otako standing before them once more.”
“And I’m proud to look—”
“Your father was a traitor. A monster. He killed thousands of people. You—”
Words seemed to fail him and he slammed the door. A shout to the driver and the carriage lurched into motion. Tanaka scowled, ignoring Edo’s concerned questions, while outside, more people willing to die for the Otako name bled their last upon the Shami Fields.
BY DJANGO WEXLER
BURNINGBLADE & SILVEREYE
Ashes of the Sun
THE SHADOW CAMPAIGNS
The Thousand Names
The Shadow Throne
The Price of Valor
The Guns of Empire
The Infernal Battalion
Ashes of the Sun Page 59