by JC Kang
The huge guards, dressed in black surcoats that must have left them roasting in the South’s sun, stepped to the side and let Dhananad and his Golden Scorpion escort pass.
Dhananad stormed through the halls and slammed open the metallic double doors to the audience room. The Teleri ambassador sat straight-backed and cross-legged on a dais, holding audience with several— Dhananad skidded to a halt.
Leisurely nestled in a mountain of cushions was a turquoise-skinned altivorc dressed in a dapper military uniform. Dhananad knew this particular specimen. Unlike the rest of his kind, this one was handsome, with refined, almost elf-like features. No one was sure how old he was, or even if he was the same person over the centuries. He had first appeared in history a millennium ago (but who was counting?) as his people were losing the War of Ancient Gods. Nobody knew his name, and Dhananad joined everyone else in addressing him as the King of Altivorcs.
Humph. King of what? A pack of ugly humanoids of little consequence. The Tivari might have once controlled all of Tivaralan, enslaved all of humanity; but now they hid away in subterranean cities sprinkled throughout the mountains of the Northwest. Both the altivorcs and their more hideous, stupider cousins, the tivorcs, worked as mercenaries for the highest bidder. Dhananad’s homeland of Madura had nothing to do with them. If he had anything to say about it, they never would.
Dhananad avoided the altivorc’s gaze, and instead turned to Ambassador Piros di Bovyan. Like all of the Teleri Prospecti—the upper echelon of Bovyans who ruled their empire—he was an imposing man, with dark hair and grey eyes. He had been in Vyara for six years, and Dhananad tired of having to pander to him.
“Is it true?” he asked. “Did Princess Kaiya really meet with the Ankiran insurgents?”
The Bovyan brute Piros shrugged and cocked his head. When he spoke, his Ayuri reeked of the North. “If by insurgent, you mean their former maharaja, then yes. Perhaps you should have paid heed to our advisor, instead of falling for the girl’s charm. She was obviously misleading you.”
Dhananad spat. “Bah. A meeting with some outlaws means nothing. Perhaps the filth begged her to speak to me on their behalf.”
Another familiar face sneered. With Lord Benhan’s light-brown skin tone and dark hair, a Northerner might have mistaken him for Ayuri; but Dhananad (and any other Southerner!) recognized him as Levanthi. This dolt hailed from the Empire of Levastya, which, unlike Madura’s other ally, at least had a semblance of high culture. Albeit inferior to the Ayuri.
Dhananad glared back. “Do you find something funny?”
Benhan laughed. “Do not assume Cathayi women are as easily cowed as those in Madura.”
Dhananad cast him a disdainful glance. It wasn’t worth acknowledging the comment. “Her meeting with them means nothing.”
Piros scoffed. “Don’t you find it suspicious that she also met with the Vadarans, Bijurans, and Daburans? While not your enemies, they certainly aren’t your friends.”
The Altivorc King let out a yawn a lion would envy. “I would be more concerned with her visit to the Paladins’ Crystal Citadel in two days.”
Dhananad was about to respond, but found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. His mouth hung open as the others afforded him patronizing grins. When he found his tongue, his voice squeaked. “Your Nightblades are following her, then?”
Piros shrugged again. “Of course. We must know what she is up to. It is ultimately our goal to bring Cathay into our alliance’s sphere of influence, though our plan could take a decade to accomplish.”
Dhananad stomped his foot on the marble tiles. “Then you must see the importance of my marriage to her? Our son would have a claim to rule Cathay, which could move up your timeline by many years! Imagine, my infant son on the Dragon Throne, with me as Regent! It would give us access to more and better guns, and limitless firepowder. Not even the Paladins are fast enough to avoid a bullet!”
He glanced back to see his Scorpion shifting on his feet, in denial of the truth.
The Altivorc King cackled. “Humans! Always concerned about short-term gain. It is ironic that the Bovyans, the shortest-lived of your kind, seem to be the only ones who understand the effectiveness and subtleties of long-term planning.”
Lord Benhan shared Dhananad’s scowl, but before either of them could speak, the King wagged a finger at the Levastyan. “Don’t try to deny it. Even though your ruling priests in Levastya now worship the Ancient Gods of Tivara, they do not seem to have embraced the wisdom of long-term thinking that we teach. Otherwise, you would not be threatening the Estomari in Korynth without having fully subjugated Selastya.”
Prince Dhananad regarded him curiously. “What do you mean by short-term, oh wise King of the Orcs?”
The Altivorc King waved a dismissive hand. “Your entire plan rests upon the princess agreeing to marry you. You are obviously not going to accomplish that with your good looks, so you resort to the threat of force. Yet she is evidently befriending those who might be your enemies, and more importantly, those who can attack you on another front. Your threat of force will be neutralized.” He smirked. “What part of your plan is it that you consider good?”
Heat rushed to Dhananad’s cheeks. Nobody mocked him! Had he carried his talwar, he might have attacked the King, even though he would certainly have no chance of surviving if the legends of the King’s physical prowess were to be believed. “Then it is quite simple. If the Paladins do not agree to help Cathay, then Bijura, Vadara, and Dabura will not be in a position to oppose our Scorpions. All we have to do is prevent her from meeting the Paladins.”
The altivorc’s yellow eyes narrowed as they locked on Dhananad’s. “What do you intend?”
Dhananad turned his back on the altivorc to face Ambassador Piros. “Your Nightblades have surely noted that Princess Kaiya travels with little guard?”
Piros responded with a slow, dubious nod.
“My Scorpions say that her best protection is an ancient elf wizardess, five imperial guards, and a half-elf girl.”
“Half-elf?” The Altivorc King leaned forward and turned toward Piros, who nodded. Dhananad knew the Tivari had tried to exterminate the elves millennia ago, but the King’s sudden interest seemed to go beyond mere hatred.
He ignored the altivorc’s query and continued. “When she departs from the safety of her embassy, a force of my personal guard, assisted by several of the Scorpions, will take her. And then she will be mine. Cathay relies too much on their Great Wall and does not have the seasoned soldiers to attack Madura to take her back. In due time, we will have a son, and when that happens, we will lay claim to Cathay.”
Piros stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You would take her by force and despoil her against her will?”
Dhananad snorted. “I would think the Teleri would appreciate such measures.”
“And if your men fail to capture her?” Piros asked.
“Then they will be disavowed. They will not wear the markings of Madura or the Scorpions. We will leave no evidence that we were ever involved.”
Piros and Benhan both seemed to be in deep thought (at his brilliance, no doubt!), so much that he swore he saw smoke coming out of their ears.
The Altivorc King clapped. “Ingenious, Prince Dhananad! It is a sound plan, one that I am willing to support. I will supply several of my soldiers to assist you. Perhaps Cathay will fall within your alliance’s grasp sooner than we expected.”
Dhananad beamed at the compliment. He would be gracious and forget the previous insults. “Thank you, King of the Orcs. I will take my leave to prepare the specifics of the attack. Have your men come to the Maduran embassy under the cover of darkness.”
After Prince Dhananad had spun on his heel and left, Piros sighed. He lamented spending the twilight of his allotted thirty-three years of life stuck in this city, dealing with fools like the prince.
He looked toward the beneficiary of his short lifespan, the Altivorc King. The ancestor of all Bovyans had made a de
al with the altivorc gods, surrendering the collective life force of his descendants to sustain the Altivorc King’s. The King promised to end the curse when the Bovyans gave him control of the three remaining pyramids in the north. That was not likely to happen in Piros’ lifetime.
In the meantime, they remained strange bedfellows. Piros could not fathom why the Altivorc King decided to throw his weight behind a brash attack, especially after sparing no expense to stay unannounced in Vyara City. He had remained holed up in the Teleri embassy since his sudden arrival a few days before. Perhaps suffering clowns like Dhananad was easier than fathoming mysterious allies like the Altivorc King.
“It is a foolish idea,” Piros said to the King. “One that has too many ways to fail.”
The altivorc laughed. “Of course it will fail. Prince Dhananad does not realize the power of the old elf who protects the Princess of Cathay. But whether his plan succeeds or fails, it will not interfere with our goals. Let the prince put on a show; it will distract the Paladins from my work here.”
What work, Piros could not guess, nor would the Altivorc King tell if asked. Piros had a hunch that it related to Lord Benhan’s Levastyans, who sought to bring about the return of the Orc Gods on their flaming chariots.
Piros regarded Benhan, doubting the wisdom of the Levastyan’s zealotry. Before their gods were vanquished, the Tivari wielded powerful magic which they used to enslave humanity. Worshipping those gods did not seem like the brightest idea.
Yet when it came down to it, they were all just using each other toward their own ends, ready to abandon alliances if they became too burdensome. Of the Levastyans, altivorcs, Madurans, and Teleri, only his own people had a truly noble goal: lasting peace for the world.
Lord Benhan smirked. “Perhaps we should inform the Paladins about an anonymous threat on the princess, to ensure Prince Dhananad’s failure. We just have to know when.”
The King bared his fangs. “I will let you all know the timing of his ill-advised plans.”
CHAPTER 38:
Ulterior Motives
As the princess dressed with Meixi’s help behind the screen, Jie considered the coincidences. The last time the Moquan had conducted a mission in Vyara City, they had a secondary assignment, executed under the guise of diplomacy. Following the Architect’s plan, the Beauty had seduced a Maduran official, allowing her access to the young Prince Dhananad.
At least this time, their party’s ulterior motive was noble. Today, they would cross the river to Vadaras to visit the government-in-exile of the Sultanate of Selastya. Selastya had been absorbed by its neighbor Levastya two decades before, after the Akolytes of their Sun God Athran lost their power to channel Divine Magic. Rumor had it some of the faithful had regained their abilities, and the princess hoped to convince the deposed sultan to send one to Hua in hopes they could cure the Tianzi.
As noble as their intentions were, Jie questioned the timing. The princess had shown remarkable resilience after learning of Rumiya’s deception, and gone on four days of whirlwind negotiations.
She’d charmed each of the maharajas of the Ayuri Confederation nations with charisma and wit, and received several wedding proposals, which she graciously deflected. In addition to arranging several trade agreements, she secretly secured mutual protection pacts. It now rested in the hands of the Tianzi, who would ratify Hua’s side; and the Paladins’ Council of Elders, with whom she would meet the next day.
Calling from the anteroom, Chen Xin vociferously agreed with Jie about the timing. “Dian-xia, we still lack sufficient protection. I humbly suggest this visit wait until after your full complement of imperial guards arrives. There is no need to recklessly expose yourself to danger.”
The princess’ voice sang out from the other side of the screen. “We do not know when that will be. In any case, with the Paladins’ omnipresence, there is virtually no petty crime in this city, let alone violence.”
Jie sighed. Nothing good ever came of the princess’ stubbornness. “Teleri Nightblades are constantly following us. And in any case, we will be taking the ferry over to Vadaras, where the Paladins’ presence is less evident. If Madura or its allies suspect your audience with the Paladin elders in two days, there is no telling what they would do.”
Hushed whispers and giggles emanated from behind the screen. Meixi came out, beaming.
Then Princess Kaiya emerged. “You are worrying needlessly.”
Jie sucked her lower lip. If anyone should worry, it was the Tianzi. His daughter, dressed like that, with a degenerate Maduran prince lurking around somewhere. The white silk outer robe, embroidered with green dragons, hung from her shoulders. Open in the front, it revealed a sleeveless, strapless inner gown of light green silk, whose neckline dipped just low enough to suggest the curves beneath. A blue silk sash tied tightly around her slim waist accentuated the contour of her hips. Intricate gold pins held her obsidian hair tied above her ears.
By comparison, Jie’s own flat body would’ve made that dress look like a war banner on a windless day. “I would remind you, Prince Dhananad tried to poison you at your last meeting.”
The princess’ lips quivered as she maintained her smile. Her tone turned indignant. “I appreciate all of your concerns. However, my father’s health is now my priority. We will proceed with our trip to Vadaras. Prepare the guards for departure.”
Chen Xin and Jie exchanged worried looks. “As the princess commands,” he said.
Within a half-hour, the five imperial guards and two dozen embassy guards formed up around the princess and Ayana, who rode side-by-side on horses. The skies were overcast, and the hot and muggy air hung in her lungs. Jie knew the route well now, and watched every convenient place to lay an ambush.
Just ten minutes from the Hua embassy, the procession ground to a stop as an argument between a merchant and a miffed customer drew a crowd of spectators ahead of them.
The procession’s crier yelled, his voice booming louder than his size would suggest: “Make way! Make way for Princess Kaiya Wang of Cathay!”
Despite his appeal, nobody cleared the streets. Instead, more bystanders crowded in to point and gawk at the beautiful princess in their midst. The soldiers, despite a week of drilling from the imperial guards, still lacked discipline. They broke their attentive stances, and instead bobbed and weaved to get a better view of the argument.
From her position next to the princess’ horse, Jie noted the location: in a long lane between rowhouses. A perfect spot for an—
Several metal discs sliced through the air toward the first rank of embassy guards. Screams. Blood. Jie was on her feet at once. Her eyes tracked the discs back in the direction they came from. People ran every which way, yelling and pointing.
Sitting side-saddle on her horse, the princess now clenched its mane with both hands as it shied. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream as it reared. Avoiding flailing legs, Jie reached up, snagged hold of the princess’ long sleeves, and yanked. The two tumbled way too close for comfort to the horse’s stamping hooves. The princess covered her head with her arms.
Above them, Ayana’s horse panicked and shoved its way backward despite the elf’s protestations, crushing several of the guards who had been to slow to react.
Jie sprang to her feet. She took the princess’ quivering hand and pulled her up. Face pale, with the eyes of a startled doe, Kaiya trembled.
Chen Xin’s voice boomed over the commotion. “Form up your lines! Move forward! Protect the princess!” He and the four other imperial guards backed in around them with naked dao swords.
The clang of metal on metal mingled with the cries of wounded men and the screaming crowds. The embassy guards fought valiantly, streaming forward to move between the princess and the pack of rugged assailants in front of them. Ayana yelled something from behind, her voice trailing farther and farther away.
The princess straightened and motioned back in the direction they’d come. Voice calm, she said, “Pull back, back toward the sa
fety of the embassy.”
Jie shook her head. Not without knowing what was in that direction. Tall men blocked her view. Being short came in handy sometimes, but not now. Added to which, this confounded dress hindered her movement. She tugged on the princess’ sleeve. “Let me go first. They might be trying to flush us into the open, out of the ring of guards.”
The princess nodded, and Jie slunk through the few rear guards. On the other side, the streets blurred in chaos as citizens ran for the cover of shops and homes. The road continued for several hundred feet before intersecting with a cross-street. Two-story rowhouses lined either side, providing no escape routes.
Something was wrong; danger lay in that direction. Or at least, that’s what every instinct screamed. Jie scanned windows, doorways, and rooftops. Sounds of skirmishes approached from the direction she’d just come, and she stole a glance back. Their front line of soldiers had collapsed under the onslaught. No choice now. She motioned for Chen Xin to fall back.
Chen pointed with his sword. “Zhao, help hold the line! The rest of you, surround the princess and head back toward the embassy.”
Jie took one step. Six turquoise-skinned humanoids charged toward them. Protected by chainmail, they brandished heavy broadswords in their left hands. Orcs. The intelligence gleaming in their eyes suggested altivorcs, not their stupid cousins, the tivorcs.
She whipped out a handful of biao throwing stars and flung them. The first altivorc fell to his knees, clutching his throat, but the next was on her with a downward chop of his blade.
Jie sidestepped the blow. In the same motion, she thrust the heel of her palm under his outstretched arm and into his unprotected chin, while stomping through the back of his knee.
Even as the second altivorc collapsed, two broadswords swept at her, one toward her neck and the other at her waist. Jie sprang between the two blades while hurling two spikes at each of the orcs’ flanks. She landed in a forward roll, but tripped on her hem as she tried to regain her feet.