by Devin Madson
‘Lady Hana,’ the general said. ‘What–?’
‘You must take me to Kin,’ I whispered.
‘He is–’
‘I don’t care where he is, take me to him now. I’m going to draw and you’re going to take me by force. Ready? Go.’
Pulling free of the general’s grip, I fumbled for an arrow, but as my fingers closed over fletching, another hand grasped my wrist. A punch across the jaw sent me reeling back.
‘Quick, bind her hands.’
They grabbed me, each throb of pain bringing shooting stars across my eyes. A leather cord tightened about my wrists and I was jerked forward into a walk. The dark forest was spinning.
‘Sorry about that, my lady,’ the general whispered as I slowly came back to my senses. ‘The captain did not recognise you.’
‘It feels like you’ve broken my jaw,’ I said, my skin smarting as I squinted at the dark figure of another soldier in front of me.
‘You would know if we had. You’d be in a lot more pain.’
‘So will you be if Pikes are following us.’
The general digested this, then held out his hand to his companion. ‘Keep an eye out for followers. She’ll be safe with me.’
‘Yes, General.’
The man handed over my rein and, drawing his sword, disappeared into the trees. The general pulled me on.
Away from our clearing, moonlight barely penetrated the dense canopy, leaving little difference between the night and patches of deeper shadow. Even the tree trunks seemed to cluster close like the soldiers of a silent army. I could barely see where I was going and tripped, scraping my toes on a pile of stones.
‘Sorry, my lady, it’s a bit hard to see.’
‘It’s dark,’ I snapped, my jaw throbbing. ‘I wanted you to play along, not punch me.’
‘I’m sorry, my lady, but we should not speak.’
Reluctantly I fell back, letting the strap go taut between us. I could taste blood, and not caring how unladylike the general might think me, I spat onto the ground. A string of saliva hung from my lip and I wiped it on my shoulder while he pulled me through the trees. At least he seemed to know where he was going, even without a light to lead the way. Whenever I glanced up it was to see his head turning this way and that, watching for danger, stillness coming to him as he held his breath.
My jaw felt like it was already bruising, and with the beginnings of a headache pulsing through my temples I paid our surroundings little heed. I wanted to ask where he was taking me, but dared not speak. Would he take me to Risian? I had given little thought to what might happen, intent only on an audience with Kin, but now with my wrists bound I began to wonder how I would get back – if I would get back at all.
General Ryoji stopped at the sound of footsteps, adjusting his grip on his sword. Three clicks made by a tongue and he relaxed a little, nodding to his companion as he appeared from the trees. ‘Well?’
‘No one is following, General.’
‘Good. Go back and see if you can find Jiori while I take Lady Hana to Kin.’ The captain went to leave, but turned back as General Ryoji added: ‘Go carefully. They know we’re here.’
‘Yes, General.’
He disappeared into the trees like a ghost, but even a ghost stood no chance against Shin. Almost I called the man back, but he was not mine to command.
Together the general and I walked on until shreds of moonlight appeared through the trees. As they touched the general’s feet he quickened his pace, pulling me into a clearing where the moon filled the night sky like a silver coin. In the distance the road cut through the trees, and I knew we had to be near the edge of the forest above Risian.
At the tree line General Ryoji stopped and drew me toward him, pulling the rope like a leash. I looked up into his face as he untied the leather strap, and he tilted his head to get a better look at my jaw. ‘It will bruise up nicely,’ he said with a rueful grin. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t get you front on.’
‘Lucky?’ I said, rubbing my wrists as they were freed.
‘You might have come off worse than a bruise and some split skin. Come.’
He stepped backward, out into the clearing, beckoning me to follow. Away from the trees the moonlight fell on his handsome face. ‘My name is–’
‘General Hade Ryoji,’ I said. ‘I know. You saved me from the Pit.’
The man grimaced. ‘I could wish my name connected to a more felicitous reminiscence.’
‘More felicitous than saving me?’
‘Lady Hana, I–’
A horse snorted. The soft sound broke between us and I turned. Four horses stood tethered to a low branch, each pair of eyes watching me warily. The closest had its dark mane pulled into knots, and a white brindle pattern glowed in the moonlight.
Kin.
‘His Majesty is here? In the forest?’ I asked, running my hand over the white tears, their smooth beauty visible only to the eye. ‘He–’
Behind me a sword scraped its scabbard as it was drawn. I froze, my hand trembling on the bi-coloured coat.
‘Turn around.’
I obeyed, a smile tugging at my lips. Behind me stood a man dressed in a common black short robe and breeches, one sleeve dirty and torn. A cloth covered the lower part of his face, but I knew those eyes, knew that scowl. I wanted to touch him to be sure he was real, but I was kept back by the sword that curved gracefully from his steady grip, its point inches from my face.
‘Hana.’
Kin did not lower the sword, but he pulled the mask down to show his lips set in a firm line.
I glanced at the sharp tip of the blade. ‘I wouldn’t blame you,’ I said.
‘Wouldn’t you.’ The hand that hung free at his side gripped into a tight fist. ‘Haven’t you got a job to do, General?’ he added, without turning around.
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
General Ryoji bowed and strode away, my only friend disappearing into the trees. There was no smile in Kin’s eyes, nothing of his old expression.
The sword hovered between us. ‘If you want to kill me I won’t stop you,’ I said.
When Kin did not answer, I knelt upon the soft grass, bowing my head as one would to an executioner. It was a risk. He had a temper. But I had to make him trust me. I had to make him listen.
Long seconds passed. I stared at the grass between my fingers, the hairs on the back of my neck raised.
‘Get up,’ Kin snapped eventually, sheathing his sword. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing, Your Majesty,’ I said, conscious of relief as I got to my feet. ‘You are a long way from your army.’
‘I am a free man, am I not?’
‘That doesn’t answer the question.’
‘Nor does it answer my question.’
He glared down at me. It was not how I had imagined our meeting, but we’d never had a conversation that didn’t end in an argument. I swallowed my annoyance. ‘I met General Ryoji in the forest,’ I said. ‘I asked him to bring me to you.’
‘And gave him cause to hit you it would seem.’
He gently touched my swelling jaw. It stung, but although I hissed, I did not move. ‘There’s an orange daisy common to this area,’ he said. ‘It smells like sage when crushed. If you can find some it will help with the swelling.’ His hand fell and he turned away, scowling toward the dark trees. ‘You should go.’
‘I came to talk to you.’
‘And I came to hunt down the kasus that have been attacking my men in the night,’ he snapped. ‘Hunting the red-belt is a common Pike game, I think. You should go.’
‘You think I would do that?’
‘As someone who has woken to the sight of you holding a dagger above my throat, yes.’
‘You ordered my execution!’
Kin spun around. ‘And you tried to kill me. Twice!’
‘And neither time did I go through with it. Or have you forgotten?’
He snorted. ‘Forgotten? It is something I am not likely to forget in a hurry, my lady. Tell me, how many of my men did you kill with your own hands?’
‘Your men? I have killed no one.’
‘You think I don’t know why you’re here? Do you know how many men I lost last night?’
I shook my head.
‘Three hundred. Murdered in their sleep. We combed this wood and found nothing. But I am not satisfied with nothing. So I have come back myself to see just what Katashi sends after me. Is that his plan? To destroy morale? Even up the numbers by ambushing my men in the night?’
‘Yes,’ I said, the word a whisper.
‘Then I will make sure he pays for it. Go on,’ he said. ‘Get back to your men before they wonder where you are. I’m a fool to spare you.’ He turned his shoulder on me. ‘I won’t do it again. If I find you in one of my camps, if you take the blood of a single one of my men, I will hunt you until I have your head. I’ll send it to Katashi in a bag.’
‘So that’s it?’ I said, stepping into his line of sight. ‘You’re just going to send me back?’
‘What else would you have me do?’ he snapped. Gripping my shoulders, he shook me roughly. ‘There is nothing else, Hana. I have nothing to say to you I haven’t already said. If you want to speak then for the gods sake do it now, or I’ll see you in the hells when this is over.’
I stared up into his face, the warmth of his hands on my shoulders paralysing. There had been so much to say but now the words clogged my throat. I had let this war happen. If I had married Kin then Katashi would have had no claim, and if I had killed Kin then Katashi would have had no enemy, but I had done neither, waiting instead for some other choice that was never going to come.
And now Kin had no reason to trust me. It was too late.
Footsteps came quickly through the trees and General Ryoji burst into the clearing, out of breath. ‘Majesty,’ he said. ‘We have to go. Jiori and Rit are dead.’ The general glanced my way. ‘The Pikes have our tracks. I’d say we have a few minutes, maybe less.’
‘Shivatsa!’
The general nocked an arrow and stood watching the trees while Kin strode to the horses. His deft fingers worked at the knots and the first set of reins fell loose. I went to help him, pulling at the third knot. Kin did not look up, did not thank me, just took two sets of reins and turned the horses toward the track. ‘Kaere,’ he said, giving each a push. ‘Kaere!’
Reluctantly they trotted, riderless, toward the road. ‘You don’t need them?’ I asked.
‘Their riders don’t need them where they’ve gone.’
Already he was backing his great stallion into the clearing. General Ryoji came, a waft of leather in the night. He led his horse out and both men mounted, Kin setting one sandalled foot in his stirrup and throwing his leg over the brindle stallion with ease. The beast backed nervously, and for the first time I caught the scent of blood on the air. ‘You’re injured.’
‘It won’t kill me,’ he said, gathering the reins and stroking the beast’s neck. ‘Though your friends tried.’
He turned toward the road, and passing close, his horse lowered its head toward me. Kin pulled it sharply back, the expression on his face twisted and strange. ‘She isn’t a friend, Raijin.’
I had lifted my hand instinctively to pat him, but let it fall at these words. I was not a friend. I was an Otako.
‘I had hope for you once, Hana,’ Kin said, holding his horse sternly in check. ‘Remember what I said. Next time I won’t spare your head, nor that of any of your friends.’
Nodding to General Ryoji, both men gathered their reins. ‘Kaere,’ Kin said, and the great stallion set off at a trot, half bay, half brilliant brindle. Just like Kin – on one side a commoner, on the other a god.
‘Wait!’
I ran after them. They were nearly at the road, but Kin reined in his horse, its white stripes like the slash of claws.
‘Majesty,’ General Ryoji warned. ‘They will be here any moment.’
Taking a deep breath, I said: ‘He’s going to take The Valley.’
‘What?’
‘That’s Katashi’s plan. The Willow Road and The Valley, your main trade route and Mei’lian’s rice bowl.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘To make amends. I am not what you think me. General, may I have your knife?’
The general glanced at Kin. He nodded, and General Ryoji pulled a knife free from his belt and held it down to me, hilt first.
‘Thank you, General,’ I said. ‘Now get out of here. Quickly!’
I turned to run back toward the trees, but Kin spoke my name. ‘Hana.’
Unable to ignore the pull of his voice, I spun around, a little breathless. ‘Yes?’
‘I would not have married you for Kisia alone,’ he said, the words seeming to cause him pain. His jaw shut hard, the rest of his words left unspoken. ‘Kaere. Kaere!’
He dug his heels into his horse’s flank and Raijin sped to a canter. For a moment they were mere silhouettes against the moon, then they were gone, no sign they had ever existed beyond the fading hoofbeats and the gallop of my heart.
I dashed to the edge of the clearing, throwing myself down at the base of the first tree. Righting myself, I leant against its trunk, silver light lapping at my feet. The general’s knife was a Ts’ai blade, its hilt adorned with a small dragon.
Pick a side.
I adjusted my grip and drew a deep breath. The air trembled free as I set the knife to my left shoulder.
Shin had to believe.
The blade cut my sleeve, its cold metal slicing skin and splitting flesh. My hand shook through I gripped the handle hard, gritting my teeth as I pulled the knife forward.
Footsteps sounded through the trees.
The knife fell and I gripped my shoulder, blood oozing through my fingers. I felt sick. Compressing my lips, I banged my head back against the tree trunk and let out a little whimper.
Pick a side.
Voices now, the footsteps loud.
My head spun as I looked up at the moon.
I am an Otako. See me bleed.
Chapter 12
Kimiko was sleeping. I had succeeded in escaping without disturbing her, sliding naked from beneath the covers. She never woke on these mornings, perhaps used to sharing a mat, but it had taken me time to get used to having a warm body beside me again.
Curled now upon herself, she looked no larger than a child, though her curls fanned from her head like a magnificent aura.
I dressed while I watched her, pulling on the only robe I owned and trying to ignore the stale smell clinging to its silk. A short search of the habitable portion of the house had turned up nothing in better condition, nothing but a scratchy woollen groom’s tunic thrust under the divan. The room had belonged to Avarice once, and but for the present company might have been drawn from my memory. It had become my sanctuary, a home for a child long left to the ministration of servants. Here I had kept my treasures, a box of precious things garnered from around the house: the first Errant set I had learned to play with; a favourite book; a silver cup; and my mother’s pink sash. But keepsakes were sentimental, emotive. It had cost me a pang to throw the book on the fire, but by the time my mother’s sash slipped into the flames, I had been free. Never again had I gathered possessions.
Out in the hallway, Endymion was fighting wakefulness. I heard his long sigh, covers rustling, and dragged my eyes from Kimiko’s face. Endymion had piled old blankets on top of himself as though it were the middle of winter, but now they lay strewn acr
oss the floor from an uneasy sleep. His chestnut hair stuck to his brow in a damp tangle, his Larothian features more apparent at rest. Avarice had called it an “arrogance of brow”, and looking at Endymion I could see why. He never looked proud when awake, but the natural resting state of his face had the same arrogant look that had come to Malice.
The set of his features changed while I watched, becoming more like the Endymion to which I had grown accustomed. ‘You’re awake,’ I said.
He opened his eyes. ‘Why are you staring at me?’
‘Because you are such a handsome specimen of manliness.’
‘Is that supposed to be funny?’
‘Do you see me laughing?’
Endymion propped himself up on an elbow. ‘You sneer a lot, but do you ever laugh?’
‘Sometimes,’ I said. ‘When something is funny. I am no less a man than you, you know.’
‘I know.’
I heard extra meaning in those words, though his expression showed nothing and my roaming Empathy returned empty handed. He felt odd; a strange empty patch upon the tapestry of the world.
I fought back a shiver. ‘Get up,’ I said. ‘It’s time to play.’
‘Play?’
‘Errant, of course. How else do you expect to learn anything?’
‘But I don’t know how to play.’
‘Then it’s time you learned.’
I continued along the passage. Behind me I heard him scramble to his feet. ‘You brought a board with you?’
‘No,’ I said, not turning around. ‘I didn’t need to. Are you coming or not?’
Quickening his pace, he caught up, but it would take more than determination to understand what he wished to learn. I was willing to teach, but striding along the old tumbledown passages, all I had was doubt. Each of these rooms was a memory I had buried, every step a lesson I had learned the hard way. How could I teach him that with only words?