by Devin Madson
In single file we made our way down the slope through the first gate and then the second, the glare of dozens of bright lanterns making the gardens invisible. At the main gate we found it locked fast.
‘I am Captain Shin,’ Shin had growled. ‘These are my men. We are leaving on the orders of Emperor Katashi.’
‘And who are your men?’
My heart hammered in the silence, a silence that was soon broken by the man in front of me, muttering under his breath. Others joined in. ‘You’re questioning us?’
Shin quieted them with a hand, his gaze never leaving the unfortunate guard’s face. ‘If you doubt the loyalty of Grace Tianto’s right-hand man, then by all means, search my men.’
The man had let us through, and not for the first time I wondered just how long Shin had been an Otako soldier.
Once beyond the gate I was free. My horse leapt forward with the rest, dark ground disappearing beneath the thunder of hooves. It had been too long and I revelled in the freedom, in the rush of the wind against my face.
Shin pushed us hard and fast. The others might have believed he was in a hurry to fight, but I knew he was keeping us tired – too tired to look hard at one another when it came time to rest. He kept close to Tili, too, but she had listened to every piece of advice and conducted herself well, barely speaking or even meeting the gaze of our fellow raiders. I recognised faces, Wen and Bei and a few other old Pikes, but while travelling swift, only our taciturn captain had eyes for his two stowaways.
From the river crossing we took to heavy cover, avoiding the Willow Road entirely. In the beginning other raiding parties rode with us, but one by one they went their own way until it felt like we were the only people left in the whole empire.
Risian was our destination. Within hours of Katashi taking the northern throne, the town had fallen to Otako loyalists. It had no doubt been part of the plan, but Kin had mobilised fast, unwilling to let the gateway to the north go easily. It had become a battleground, but by the time we arrived black smoke was all that remained, rising toward the morning sun.
We left our horses in the forest above the town and crept to the hilltop, our clothes stuck to our bodies with sweat. The night had been relentlessly warm and Shin had pushed us the last few miles without rest, speeding his pace as the acrid smell crept upon us.
Crawling across the dry grass we gained sight of the town below. Risian swarmed with men, every crimson belt like a bloody slash in the morning light. Dark heaps stood outside the walls, all but obscured by the billow of black smoke.
Shin motioned for us to keep down. ‘Burning flesh,’ he said. ‘We’ve missed something big.’
‘Those aren’t our men down there,’ someone said.
‘The ones burning might be,’ another replied.
No one answered.
Kin and I had stayed in Risian on our way north, the guests of Lord Pirin. We had dined together and Kin had given me a sash embroidered with the Otako crest. It had only been a few weeks and now there were bodies where lush fields had once been.
‘They aren’t ours he’s burning,’ Shin said.
‘How can you tell?’
Shin gave the curious Pike a long stare. ‘The Usurper always strings up the sashes of enemies taken in battle. They aren’t ours. It’s better he burns his dead than leaves them to rot. We’ll camp in the trees.’
I slid back from the edge and got to my feet, others rising around me. Tili looked pale, and I grimaced at her, saying nothing.
We kept low as we returned to our horses, wary now, the smell of burning flesh following us all the way to the tree line. There, Shin mounted quickly, turning his horse with a jerk of the reins before he had even settled in the saddle. Without looking back, he led the way into a thick stand of trees, and forced to ride single file, the Pikes milled around. Every face looked tired. I caught sight of Wen, patting his horse’s neck and staring into the distance, fatigue stretching his face. A scar traced the line of his brow and I smiled, remembering its story. The tale of the furious yiji had kept the Pikes laughing for days, but now those companionable hours spent drinking around the fire had gone beyond recall.
Wen was letting others pass and he glanced up as I drew alongside. I looked away, heart racing. There had been a frown, a crinkling of the scar on his brow, and holding myself tall in the saddle, I hoped he wouldn’t recognise me.
I went ahead into the trees. Shafts of light were piercing the dense canopy, slowly driving away the grip of night. The stink of burning flesh followed us. It clogged the air between the majestic elms and chestnut trees, smoke making the sunlight hazy. But up in the trees bright growth fluttered and the birds sang in the praises of yet another fine summer day.
A light breeze was all that stirred the sultry heat.
‘Captain.’
Wen edged his horse alongside.
‘Perhaps I should call you Lady Hana?’ he amended, when I did not answer.
‘What do you want, Wen?’
‘I was just making conversation, my lady. Does the Arse know you’re here?’
‘Captain Shin is well aware of my presence,’ I said. ‘And if he is not troubled by it, you need not be.’
He ducked beneath a broken branch that overhung the edge of the track. ‘I nearly died getting out of the palace,’ he said when he straightened again. ‘Why should I trust a man who spent weeks in Kin’s service?’
‘Shin was there in my service.’
‘What happened to Regent?’
‘Forget him. He’s dead.’
The closeness of the trees forced Wen to fall back, but as soon as it was possible he again urged his horse alongside mine. More than a head taller than me, I had to look up to his face, even on horseback. ‘They say The Usurper wanted to marry you.’
‘They?’ I asked. ‘Who are they and what would they know? Do you have spies in Kin’s court?’
‘I’ve heard it around. Is it true?’
‘Am I married to him now?’
Wen glanced at my hands. ‘No?’
‘No. So what difference does it make whether he wished to or not?’
With a click of his tongue he urged his horse ahead, brushing away a branch laden with the spiny casings of unripe chestnuts. ‘Only that I would not wish to fight alongside someone unsure of where they stand,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder. Louder he added: ‘I’m not keen on getting a knife between my shoulder blades. One scar for this cause is enough for me.’
My horse tossed its head, so tightly did I grip the reins. ‘If our cause isn’t worth your scars then perhaps you should leave. I wouldn’t want to fight beside a man who would flee at the first sign of danger to save his own skin.’
A hiss cut through the air. ‘Quiet,’ one of the Pikes snapped. ‘There’re horses on the road.’
Leaning out of my saddle, I peered around Wen. Ahead, men were dismounting, tying their reins to low branches and continuing on foot through a thick nest of sickle-shrub.
Wen sped up and I did the same, Regent forgotten in the excitement. I slid from my horse to find Wen had already grasped the reins and was tying them beside his own. When our eyes met he gave me a mock bow before turning to follow the others. There was no sign of Tili, so I crouched behind Wen, pushing through the crowd of untended saplings. The dense undergrowth smelt fresh and pleasantly earthy after the bitter taste of Risian’s dead.
We moved quick and quiet, the dull rhythm of hoofbeats coming through the trees. No high road passed through these woods, but makeshift paths had become permanent tracks as more and more travellers made the journey between Risian and the army camp at Kogahaera.
Emerging into a small clearing, we found the others already ducked behind a dense bramble thicket. A worn track was just visible through a spiky shield of wineberries, and
the sound of walking horses was growing louder.
Trees towered above us. Others were already climbing, but when I reached for a low branch, I found Shin at my side. ‘Stay here,’ he said.
‘Why?’
Shin didn’t answer and the sound of hoofbeats grew louder still.
‘Who’s out there?’
Still he didn’t answer and I turned from him, planting my foot on the rough bark. For the first few feet I feared Shin would grab my foot and pull me back, but no steely fingers gripped my ankle, and I climbed into the world of rustling leaves.
The Pikes climbed until the branches could no longer support them, each one finding a perch that gave a good view of the road. The man who had hissed us into silence sat perched in the same tree – like a bird of prey with his bow dormant in the curl of strong fingers. Half a dozen others dotted the canopy, even Wen, out of earshot a few trees away.
Glad of my light weight, I edged out along a strong branch. The bowman glared at me, but it was the rising wind that snapped the leaves to a fury, drowning the hoofbeats on the road. All we could do was watch and wait.
A horse came into view; a bay stallion. Crimson silk caressed its flank, sweeping from a pair of square-set shoulders.
Kin. It had to be him. There was no mistaking his horse or the way his hair always slipped from his topknot. I had last seen him standing over me, spitting fury while he waited for the headsman.
The creak of a bowstring cut through the rustling leaves. Arrow already nocked, the bowman pulled the string taut, his narrowed eyes waiting for the best shot. No one else drew. It was a difficult shot with leaves whipping around us in the high wind, but I had seen Monarch pick off too many impossible targets to feel confident he would miss.
I shimmied back toward the trunk, rough bark scraping my hands. The tree trembled. The bowman’s eyes flicked my way, his whole expression speaking words his lips dared not frame. I shook my head at him, but his scowl only deepened and he turned his eyes back to the target on the road growing ever closer.
The bowstring tightened.
I leapt. For an awful moment there was nothing but air, then my chest slammed into his branch. I slipped, stunned, but caught hold of the splintered bark and swung. The whole tree swayed with my shifting weight as though it sought to buck me off, but I held tight, fingers aching.
A rough reed sandal rolled onto my hand, no weight behind it. Yet.
‘Who are you?’ the man hissed. He crouched, bow held slack as he slowly shifted his weight onto my fingers.
I winced. ‘Han,’ I said. ‘I’m from Ji.’
‘I don’t think so.’
He yanked up my helmet, stealing my black silk with it. Wind whipped through my damp curls as he let the helmet fall, smacking into a branch below. The sole of his sandal flattened my fingers.
‘I don’t fight with whores, my lady,’ he said, all of his weight crushing bone.
My hand slipped. The sound of thundering hooves rose through the trees, but the Pike had abandoned his shot. With a snarl he kicked my other hand. His sandal ground across my knuckles and I bit back the cry that rose to my throat. I would not scream. I would not cry. I glared up at my tormentor, determined to show no weakness as he brought his foot down hard. My fingers slipped and I swung my other hand up, gripping the branch.
A bow tip speared the back of my hand. It pierced my flesh and I let go with a yelp.
I fell, snatching at the bright leaves that whipped past. A branch came from nowhere and I slammed into it, breath bursting from my chest. Winded, I began to slide and scrabbled at the rough bark, hooking one arm over and then the other. There I hung, painfully sucking air.
My pounding heart slowed, melding with the retreating hoofbeats. Below me an argument hissed back and forth.
‘But he sabotaged Yani’s shot,’ someone said.
‘I gave no permission to fire.’ That was Shin, his growl unmistakable. ‘Any shot would have drawn too much attention. We cannot take on Kin’s army alone.’
‘And if he had killed The Usurper?’
‘We would be as dead as if he had missed.’
The tree shook. My Pike assailant was climbing down, his bow slung over his shoulder. He did not so much as glance my way, just dropped the last few feet to the ground. Once he had gone, I shimmied along until I could reach a lower branch with the tip of my sandals. It was comforting to have solid wood beneath my feet and I longed to curl my toes around it the way monkeys did. Then I could live in the trees and not have to face Shin’s wrath.
Climbing down the rest of the way, I lowered myself carefully to the ground.
A Pike started toward me. ‘That ain’t no man,’ he said, the words spitting from his lips. ‘I’ve seen that yellow head before.’
Shin stepped in front of me. ‘Have you?’ he growled.
‘Yes.’ Wen glared his challenge. ‘That’s Lady Hana Otako.’
‘What is she doing here, Captain?’
‘Fighting for the cause, same as you,’ Shin answered.
‘I’m not taking orders from a woman.’
‘Stupid bitch could have got us killed.’
‘Everyone knows she’s Kin’s whore!’
I started forward, anger burning through my veins. ‘How dare you! Remember who you’re talking to, worm. I am an Otako and you will show me respect.’
The archer whose shot I had ruined placed a hand on his comrade’s shoulder. ‘We don’t respect whores,’ he said quietly. ‘Whatever their blood.’
Shin caught me in one wiry arm as I charged. ‘Let me go,’ I snapped.
‘Let me deal with this,’ he said.
‘I can defend myself.’
An amused gleam lightened the severity of his expression. ‘I’m sure you can, my lady, but this isn’t really about you.’ Shin turned his lidless eye on his men. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Anyone else got something smart to say?’
Silence filled the clearing.
‘No? Good. Lady Hana is your emperor’s blood. Think on that before you let the kasu fly.’
‘What about this one?’ I saw then that one held Tili’s wrist so tight his fingers whitened. He held her helmet in his other hand, a sneer darkening his face. ‘No Imperial blood here, just a whore dressed as a boy.’
The Pike pulled at the edge of her short robe, parting the material slowly. ‘Perhaps we can have some fun with them, even if we didn’t get The Usurper.’
‘Leave her alone,’ I said.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll leave you alone. No one wants to touch the Imperial Whore.’
‘Watch it, kasu,’ I snapped.
‘Oh? So you want us to touch you? Missing the Imperial cock?’
The Pikes laughed.
I pulled the knife from my sash. ‘You’ll regret that when you don’t have one anymore. Let her go.’
‘I don’t take orders from girls.’ The man’s lip curled, and without even looking he slipped the robe off Tili’s shoulder, his brows lifted in challenge.
‘Let me go,’ Tili snarled, yanking out of his grip. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, pressing her unwilling hand to his stiffening prick. Though she tried to pull away he held her fast, laughing with the others. Until she kicked him in the shin. He let go then, striking her so hard she stumbled back, clasping her cheek.
‘Bitch, you’ll wish you hadn’t done that.’
I started forward amid a haze of fury, my knife gripped hard. Shin was ahead of me. He stalked past Tili and grasped her assailant’s hand, turning it skyward. It took a grunt of effort, and the blade crunched through the man’s palm, parting sinew and bone. The Pike howled as Shin yanked it free.
‘Only a coward hits a woman,’ he said as the Pike doubled over, gripping his injured hand. Blood dripped down his arm.
‘Are there any more cowards here?’
There was a smattering of ‘no, Captain,’ all eyes on the hissing, writhing form of the injured Pike.
‘Good. Any man who touches Lady Hana or her maid will receive punishment equal to his crime. Think about where the knife will go if your cock is involved. Get him up. We’re moving.’
The Pikes obeyed. They did not speak, just glared at me as they passed.
‘Not you, my lady,’ Shin said as I turned to follow them.
Tili was retying her sash, chin tilted proudly. Shin jerked his head at her and she went on ahead, leaving Shin and I alone. Slowly the forest grew quiet as footsteps moved away through the undergrowth.
‘What can I do for you, Captain?’ I asked, when Tili had disappeared.
‘You can decide which side you’re on.’
A red flush stole into my cheeks. ‘If that man had fired we would have been running from Kin’s men, not in any state to ambush them.’
‘Where is my belled hat and my ribboned stick. Do I look like a fool to you?’
‘No.’
‘Then don’t treat me like one. And don’t think I will swallow any more of your lies. You weren’t thinking about our necks when you stopped him.’
We glared at one another. The bruises on his face had not yet faded, deep cuts making new scars.
He had fought for me.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘What is it to be?’
The sound of hoofbeats were long gone, but I was still listening for them, ears pricked like a hare.
‘Emperor Katashi has a bounty on The Usurper’s head,’ Shin said when I did not answer. ‘He is going to die, little fish. Harden your heart if you want your cousin to accept you as an equal.’
‘I am an Otako,’ I said. ‘I do not fight for my heart, I fight for Kisia.’