“I’ll see to gathering the horses,” he said to Isao in a curt tone. “We must leave immediately. More will follow.”
He slipped in between two wooden slats fencing the paddock, moving away. Celty didn’t follow him, just side-stepped further away from the blazing heat of the fire. When Isao followed her, she ignored him.
Instead, Celty looked at the road leading away from the paddock and narrowed her eyes. What now? Where should she got? She kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She may not know what to do with freedom now that she had it, but she certainly wouldn’t let the Prince see her uncertainty.
“What is your name?” Isao asked in a gentle tone.
The question took her by surprise. She whipped her head around to find Isao staring at her, eyebrows lifted and an intent expression on his face. She hesitated, thinking about the calluses on her hands and the dirt caking her body.
She’d never given the Emperor nor his son a second thought except to hate them when she saw them, but now that she stood in front of him and sensed no judgment from his gaze, she wished she didn’t appear quite so . . . slovenly.
“Celty,” she murmured, giving her dry lips a lick.
“Celty. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”
She swallowed, unsure of what to say now. The sound of her name on his lips sent a little thrill through her, but she brushed it aside.
The clop of hooves on the cobblestone road followed. General Khalem appeared, pulling along two horses by their reins. The horses jerked at the reins, their eyes wide. They pranced to the side, commanding all of Khalem’s attention to keep them under control.
Once he came to a stop, he pressed a hand to their necks, saying something to them under his breath. The horses calmed.
Isao stepped toward Celty. “Come with us,” he said.
Khalem whipped around. “Isao!” he objected fiercely.
Isao ignored the outcry, his eyes not straying from Celty’s face.
She hesitated, staring at the hand he was offering her.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You need to escape as well as I do, and you can’t stay in the city. There’s no one who can protect you better than Khalem.”
She tilted her head back. “I can protect myself, thank you very much.”
His eyes darted to the stable and back in silent rebuttal.
She swallowed. He was correct: Without his help, she’d be burning alive right now.
As the heat of the nearby fire warmed her skin, she couldn’t dispute the power of what he’d given her.
Another chance at life.
Freedom from bondage.
“We only have two horses,” Khalem barked. “We can’t slow our pace for another person. She’s free. We’ve already saved her life twice. She can go take care of herself now. We cannot trust people we don’t know at a time like this!”
Celty lifted her eyebrows toward Khalem as she said in a measured tone, “He’s not wrong, you know.”
Isao shook his head, peering into her eyes. “I don’t care. I want you to come with us.”
Khalem mounted the tallest horse, grimacing as he swung into the saddle. He put a hand to his shoulder, rubbing at it again.
Celty stepped away from Isao, backing away toward the street.
“I don’t need you,” she said, using the rough, common dialect of Saman. Surely he wouldn’t know the language of the common people, she thought. “Go away with your General and protect yourself. I can take care of myself now.”
He responded in Saman. “No.”
She growled. “Give up, already! I’m not going to go with you.”
“You will.”
“I don’t need anyone! I’m no beggar who asks for help and can’t care for herself.”
“No one said you were.” Isao twitched his hand. “Come.”
“Isao – ” Khalem growled.
“Come, Celty,” Isao interrupted. “I know we can trust you. I can feel it. You’ll die out here alone, and I don’t want that to happen. Not now. You have to come. I won’t leave without you.”
“You’re mad.”
“No. I’m quite sane.” He reached forward, gently clasping her wrist with his hand.
She stared at his hand, at the spot where it touched the skin on the inside of her wrist. On its own cue, her arm jerked back, but he held on.
His grip was firm, but not painful, she thought.
Celty opened her mouth, but closed it again.
Would he really be so stubborn for someone like her?
Isao didn’t take his eyes off her, his expression steady and certain. His confidence took her breath away.
She grabbed his hand with hers and leaned in toward him, closing the space until they were eye-to-eye.
Something warm and comforting filled her body, and slowed her secretly terrified, racing heart. The unease of the past couple of days trickled away.
A thought stirred in her mind. Go with him.
Celty swallowed hard, and made a decision.
He offered safety and freedom. Wasn’t that what she had craved all of her life…what she could remember of it, anyway?
“Fine. I will go,” she whispered shakily. “I will help protect you if I can. I don’t know what you’re running from, or why . . . but I will assist you as a way of repaying you for what you’ve done for me.”
“All right!” Khalem conceded, shaking his head. “Just get on the horse so we can leave already. The Ameyas are continuing to slaughter all whom they encounter.”
With surprising dexterity Isao sprang onto the horse, then offered an outstretched hand to Celty. She accepted. He helped pull her up onto the horse.
She settled on the steed behind him, feeling a bit uneasy.
“Hold onto me tightly,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to fall off and get hurt.”
She blinked. No one had ever been concerned about her wellbeing before.
After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist. His body was lean and firm, a reassuring pillar at a time when everything around them was falling apart.
“Let’s go!” Khalem said, spurring his horse.
As Isao guided his steed past the entrance to the burning stable, Celty’s gaze caught on a pile of bodies in front. She blinked, started to recognize Jin pinned beneath Goro and a mutilated horse. She frowned, her gazing linger on Jin’s young body. Goro deserved whatever death he met, that filthy, disgusting man. But not Jin. Jin wasn’t like the rest of them. He was like…her. He deserved better than a grave of stinking horse innards on a field of death.
If Jin had just listened. . .
Celty discarded this thought with a shake of her head.
If Jin had listened to her, they may not even be alive. They may have been killed or worse. She would never start on this new adventure that might take her away from a life of slavery.
And a prince and his general were going to lead the way.
General Khalem led them south out of the city.
The two men pushed the horses as fast as they could, cantering down the broad road and leaving the battle and the fires far behind. Many times they swerved to avoid corpses along the road.
Soon enough, the city was out of sight. Celty hoped never to return to it.
The red moon overhead illuminated their escape route as they continued on. The light of the strange moon seemed to be racing after them, chasing them out of the city.
Azuma
Azuma Nari gazed around the throne room of the Jade Cradle palace with a grim sense of satisfaction. The thrill he had experienced so far from subduing his enemies was unparalleled.
Victory for the Nari clan is imminent, he thought, if my men can just keep these battles going in our favor.
“Go,” he commanded his remaining soldiers. “Make sure any Ameyas you find are dead, and if they are not, take their lives!”
Azuma glanced out a high window as the soldiers departed with the c
lank of armor. He could see soldiers from the Imperial Army charging into the courtyard. These Hiwan soldiers had been located a distance away from the palace, and unlike their brothers had not been affected by the burning of the Dhul powder. And indeed, they plunged into the fray, fighting energetically and with great skill.
A few of the Hiwan soldiers slipped through the outer boundaries and came sprinting into the palace.
At the sight, Azuma turned around to move to the top of the throne room. Here, Sheng Saemon – the former Emperor – lay on his back, his face slack and blood dripping down his side. When the sound of rushing feet sounded in the corridor outside, Azuma dropped to one knee next to the old Emperor, recalling the plan.
This would work, he thought. There was no way it could fail.
When the group of Hiwan soldiers stormed in, Azuma threw his head back with a wail.
“It’s Sheng Saemon!” he cried in dismay. “NO!”
The Hiwan soldiers gasped, as their leader, a young lieutenant, tightened his grip on his sword.
“What has happened here?” he asked crisply.
Azuma conjured up a deep, shuddering breath. “I tried. I fought hard. I tried to save him, but I failed!”
The soldiers approached, working their way slowly over the bodies strewn across the throne room.
“Emperor?” the lieutenant whispered as he got close to the Sheng.
Azuma forced himself to cradle Saemon’s head with his palms.
“I did everything to protect him against the Ameyas. They did this to us, can’t you see? They’ve betrayed all of us, and killed the Emperor. My people, my loyal soldiers, died trying to stop them. Look at all their dead bodies in here!”
The lieutenant scanned the room, his eyes taking in the Nari, Ameyan, and Hiwan dead. “You are here alone?” he asked carefully.
“Yes. Once they killed the Emperor, I destroyed the rest of them. I . . . I couldn’t control my rage.” He gritted his teeth. “They killed my Emperor, and for that they paid with their lives.”
Azuma gently set Saemon’s head down, and began to sniffle, as if attempting to hold back his tears. A thrill ran through him when he saw the rage start flickering in the lieutenant’s eyes.
It was working. Just as planned.
The lieutenant whirled around, taking it all in. “Nari,” the lieutenant whispered, nudging a nearby body. “Hiwan over here. And Ameya. So many dead.”
“My men fought bravely. You see how many soldiers from the Ameya clan we killed?” He looked away, and screwed his eyes screwed shut. “But still we couldn’t save the Emperor.”
One of the soldiers – a boy not older than seventeen – suddenly dropped to his knees. He reached out and placed a hand on the body of a Hiwan whose throat had been slit. A sob bubbled up from deep within his chest. “Brother!” he cried. “They killed my brother!”
“This was a bloodbath,” the lieutenant hissed. “They ambushed us, and our Emperor.”
Azuma nodded. “Yes.”
The young Hiwan who cradled his fallen brother’s head raised a fist to the sky and declared with clenched teeth, “I will have my revenge!”
The Hiwan soldiers began to murmur aloud.
“Ameya,” one said bitterly.
“Revenge,” demanded another.
“We will fight.”
“They will not get away with this.”
“Sir! Over here!” one of the soldiers called out suddenly.
The lieutenant perked up. “What is it?”
Two Hiwan soldiers stood against the far wall, beckoning with a wave. “Saten Azuma. Your sister . . . Nishu Yuna is over here.”
Azuma exchanged a glance with the lieutenant. They picked their way through the field of bodies in the throne room. Yuna lay on the ground, robes torn. She curled in a ball, her back against the wall and her face covered by her hands. Her entire body shook.
“Yuna?” he questioned gently as he crouched next to her.
She jerked away from him with a cry. “No! No, don’t hurt me. Don’t rape me!”
“Yuna, it’s me. Azuma. Your brother. I’m here to help you. You will not be harmed. Can you tell me what happened?”
Slowly, she peeled her hands away from her face, and peered up at her brother. “Azuma?” she asked in a voice that quavered.
“Yes, Yuna. You’re safe.”
“T-the Ameyas. Th-they tried to . . .” She swallowed. Tears filled her eyes. “They tried to rape me. I escaped. Just barely. I-If the Nari and Hiwan clans hadn’t shown up to fight the Ameyas, they would have – ”
She turned away. Azuma embraced her fiercely as she trembled against him. The sound of running footsteps filled the air. Chancellor Bramen Qin and a contingent of Nari soldiers rushed into the room.
“By the gods,” Bramen muttered, a hand to his pale cheek. “What has happened to Yuna?”
“The Ameya clan did this,” the lieutenant said. “They tried to harm Yuna, murdered Nari and Hiwan guards, and . . ..” He choked and pointed across the room with his sword, which shook slightly. “They killed the Emperor.”
The Nari clan exploded into curses and yells. They advanced into the room, looking for their fallen comrades.
“Pull our soldiers away from the Ameya scum,” Bramen commanded. “Close their eyes. Our men shall be honored while we burn the or leave them for the vultures.”
Upon hearing these words, Azuma swallowed a cheer. Now was not the time to celebrate their plan. Yuna was pulling her role off beautifully – he must do the same.
Bramen Qin’s face became splotchy with rage as Yuna slowly stood up. She smiled a tremulous thank you when a Hiwan soldier reached out a hand to help her. She somberly adjusted her tattered robes, eyes averted. A cry came from the doorway. Azuma glanced over to see Ren standing near the door, clutching at the frame.
Yuna rushed to her side, taking her into her arms. “Ren. It’s horrifying.”
“What happened?” Ren whispered.
“The Ameya clan attacked. The Hiwans and the Naris fought bravely against the traitors.” She lowered her gaze, swallowing heavily. “They tried to rape me. And they killed the Emperor. They tried to kill our brother, but like a true leader, he was too strong. Once the Emperor died, Azuma killed all the rest of the traitors in this room.”
“Did they do this alone?” someone called.
“No,” Yuna said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. They must have had aid somehow.”
“We’ll find them!” Bramen shouted, lifting one fist. “We will find them and destroy them for what they’ve done!”
“Saten Azuma?”
Azuma spun around to find a Hiwan servant right behind him. Blood marred the bottom edge of his robe, staining his shoes. Like the rest of those surrounding him, he trembled slightly.
“Yes?”
“The Hiwan Chancellor, Najeem, is dead. We just found him in his room.”
Azuma’s shoulders slumped. Yuna shook her head, murmuring quietly, “Those bloodthirsty heathens.”
A ripple moved through the amassed crowd. Azuma nodded once. “Thank you for letting me know. Najeem was an honest and fair man. He will be greatly mourned, along with our beloved Emperor.”
“What now?” a Hiwan soldier called. “The Chancellor is supposed to rule if one of our clan leaders die. The Emperor is dead. Who will rule the Hiwan clan?”
As a chorus of panicked voices broke out, Azuma raised both of his arms in a request for silence. “Everybody, please. We must be calm.”
“Panic will only divide us,” Yuna said. “We must be more united than ever before. The Nari and the Hiwan clans have been lied to and betrayed. Together we can fight if we trust one another.”
“Justice will take its course,” Azuma declared.
These words calmed the crowd that had gathered. Yuna now reached over and laid a hand on Azuma’s arm. “Azuma, your face. There’s a deep cut on your forehead that needs attention.”
“How can I think of a mere cut w
hen there are so many more important things? No. I will deal with my scratches later. Let us check the rest of the castle.”
A quiet murmur of approval rolled through the crowd.
“Those of you who are injured, follow me,” Yuna said. “We’ll find you medical assistance immediately. Then we can start to plan for the proper burials for our brave soldiers, and rid the palace of the stink of the Ameyas’ betrayal.”
Those congregated shuffled away. Azuma caught sight of something far more strange: Tieng Shorguz of the Uma clan and Gavan Jenzud of the Horalu speaking quietly amongst themselves.
Once they saw Azuma’s sharp gaze on them, they silenced with a dutiful nod.
Two hours later, Yuna, clad in a clean robe, pressed a wet piece of cloth to Azuma’s forehead. He hissed and reared back, glaring at her.
“Ouch!” he complained.
“Don’t be a child. I have to clean it.”
He braced himself as she touched the alcohol-soaked rag to the skin again. This time it only lightly burned.
Azuma welcome the near silence in his guest room in the Imperial Palace rang with a welcome silence. No more chattering, frightened people. No more annoying questions and fits of crying. Just blessed, blessed silence.
A moment later, Yuna grabbed a long strip of linen and started to wrap it around Azuma’s head, covering the open gash on his forehead. Meanwhile, Chancellor Bramen Qin simply sat at the end of Azuma’s bed, staring at the floor.
Yuna caught Azuma’s eye and smiled. He grinned back, glancing to the door.
No shadow stood next to it, indicating the three of them had total privacy.
“So,” Azuma drawled. “It’s done, is it not? We’ve done well!”
Bramen shifted as he gave him a slight frown. “Yes, my Saten, you have done well, just as I expected. But you should really focus on your own health, no? You say the wounds aren’t bad, but I can see them. I don’t want you to fall sick with fever and infection. Perhaps it’s time for you to rest?”
Azuma scoffed, the high from today’s battle coursing through his veins.
He needed to rest? No. He needed to conquer mountains and destroy more enemies. He needed to continue to vanquish and show his strength. If he did, his father couldn’t fail to approve of him!
Faces of Betrayal Page 18