by Devin Madson
‘And you said I was useless to you injured.’
General Ryoji was perched on the opposite eave, a bow in his hand and a pained smile upon his lips.
‘Ryoji!’ Tears sprang to my eyes. ‘Oh, thank the gods! I thought you were all dead. Are there others? Where’s Kin?’
He pressed a finger to his lips. ‘No time. We need to go.’
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I dared not.
Moving quickly through clouds of smoke, we climbed and slid down the peaks of Shimai’s roofs, my bare feet making no sound on the terracotta shingles. From up above the city looked different, the smoke thinner and the shouts more distant. Most of the gaps between roofs were little more than steps until a wide road forced us back to ground level.
‘We’re close,’ the general whispered as he made to slide over the edge. ‘We just have to make it to that laneway.’
He pointed to where a crowd of Pikes and traitor soldiers milled outside an open door. A cheerful landlord was handing out jugs of wine to the demanding men who ripped the corks out and drank with gusto, spilling wine onto the stones. He glanced up as General Ryoji dropped into the road. Sharp eyes lifted to me and then fell back to the road as he threw another jug into the crowd like a man feeding rabid dogs. ‘There’s the last. I’ll bring up another crate.’
The rebels cheered, and I dropped down as the landlord disappeared inside. A narrow alley ran alongside the building. There a tiny window allowed for the egress of waste, and it was flung open just as we drew level.
‘Quick!’ the landlord hissed. ‘The lady first.’
Blood stained the tiny window frame, smearing my already filthy clothes as I slid through. The landlord gripped my legs and half caught, half pulled me inside. Ryoji followed. Then the landlord yanked the window closed and ran the bolt home.
‘By the gods, you’re lucky, General,’ he said. ‘My lady,’ he added, bowing to me. ‘Apologies. My name is Loc Hadran, my lady, once General Hadran, commander of the Imperial Guard.’
I nodded, and would have spoken had he given me a chance.
‘I think you had better move quickly,’ he said instead, already walking away. ‘Before they drink me dry and come hunting for more.’
We were in a basement passage. There were rooms here, stocked with crates and lacquered boxes, with sacks and chests and dusty jugs of wine, and one room, at the end of the passage, containing nothing but a few old pieces of furniture and a moulding bed roll. The landlord still owned the authority of his former station and strode to a pile of rags where one shake disgorged a broken sword.
‘All yours, General,’ he said, handing it over. ‘I’ll put it back after you and keep them out as long as possible.’
‘No one else knows it’s here,’ Ryoji said. ‘So—’
‘Not even Darius?’ The words leapt from my lips without a pause for thought.
General Ryoji froze, broken sword in hand, and turned to stare at me. ‘Darius is dead.’
‘I didn’t see him die, General.’
‘No, but Katashi would sooner kill him than listen to him.’ With that he jammed the broken sword between two identical flagstones. The scrape of steel on stone made my skin crawl, but he just gritted his teeth and rocked the blade back and forth until the edge of the stone began to lift. He levered it up until he could grip the edge, blood-blackened fingers straining.
It was dark beneath the stone, the same dense darkness that had surrounded Katashi and I when we led our Pikes into Mei’lian. My heart ached, and I wondered if I might drop into the darkness only to find Monarch waiting to catch me.
‘After you,’ General Ryoji said, propping the stone hatch open with two sturdy rods.
I sat on the edge and lowered myself down, but no one was waiting. This was a different passage and I was with a different man, and yet with the tang of smoke and sweat I could imagine it was Monarch who landed behind me in the gloom.
‘You can walk,’ Ryoji said. ‘The floor is level until you reach the light well.’
‘Is it safe to talk here?’
‘In whispers.’
‘Kin?’
The dim light of the tavern cellar lit him through the hatchway but left his expression hidden in shadow. ‘Safe.’
‘Alive?’
‘Alive.’
‘Tili.’
A nod.
‘Endymion?’
‘That’s how I knew where to find you.’
‘How many other survivors?’
There was silence before the answer, a silence that seemed to suck every hope from my heart. ‘About three dozen, some badly wounded, others very fortunate.’
‘General Rini?’
Again the same silence. ‘No.’
Overhead the stone fell back into place with a heavy whoomph.
‘I think we should keep moving,’ he said. ‘Walk toward the light.’
I went ahead of him, toward the beacon of a distant light well. I had more questions, but wanted no more answers. The last ones had been hard enough. So many dead. All that blistered flesh. All those bodies. All that blood.
A cold, bluish light grew around us, brighter and brighter until we emerged into a large, round room. Two-dozen men filled the space, some sitting, some lying, few talking, many silent. Every one of them wore the crimson sash of Emperor Kin and every one of them smelt of blood and worse. Master Kenji’s apprentice knelt beside one – finally a cause for thanks – and Father Kokoro beside another.
No one seemed to notice our arrival.
‘None of these men are well enough to walk the distance,’ General Ryoji said as I looked upon what remained of my army. ‘So we are transporting them one by one down the tunnel to Mei’lian.’
This was all that remained of my men, ash all that remained of my city. And Mei’lian was next.
‘How far is it?’
‘A few hours walk. We should find you some sandals.’ Together we looked down at my bloodstained feet. ‘Perhaps Apprentice Yoj should see them.’
The pain had been niggling at my awareness. There was no great injury, but a myriad of cuts and scrapes from my run through the streets had left them raw. But they were just feet.
‘I am not so weak, General,’ I said. ‘I grew up on a farm. It’s much easier to climb trees without sandals, you know.’
‘Yes,’ he said, and smiled without constraint. ‘I know. I think you should let him look at them anyway, my lady.’
I submitted to the ministrations of the apprentice healer, but there was little he could do. They had escaped with nothing but the leather satchels that were a healer’s constant companion, but Master Kenji had taken the better stocked of these through the passage with Emperor Kin. Still Apprentice Yoj managed to mix up a quick balm before General Ryoji returned with a pair of sandals. I didn’t ask the general where he had got them and he offered no explanation. Dead men needed no shoes.
We left the light well together, walking into an underground night that tasted old. After walking some hundred paces in the dark, light slowly returned, a stretched, pale sort of light that would grow brighter and brighter until it resembled the light of day. Past each well the night would creep back, the pattern the only way to mark the passage of time and distance.
‘What do these light wells look like from above?’ I asked as we passed our third. ‘Are we beneath the plains?’
‘Not all the way,’ he said. ‘When Kin ordered the passage repaired most of the walls were still clear, poking up in small villages and copses, made to look like clumps of rock or dry wells.’
‘Ingenious.’
‘It’s an old idea.’
We walked another cycle in silence, from dark to light and back again with only the echo of our steps for company.
‘Hana,’ General Ryoji said after a time, and here in
the dark, isolated from the world, the sound of my name on his lips was somehow illicit. Such presumption was unforgivable in court circles, but I had given him permission, even insisted that he use it.
‘Yes, General?’
‘I… I want you to know that I would fight for you.’
The words hung in the darkness between us, something of their meaning growing on me.
‘Do you mean that you would—?’
‘I mean that I would fight for you.’
‘General—’
‘If you call me “general” one more time, I swear I will scream.’
I could discern his outline but not his expression, yet I was sure he smiled, mocking me.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Ryoji.’
‘Hade,’ he corrected.
‘Hade.’ His name sat hesitantly on my tongue. ‘You gave an oath to serve Emperor Kin.’
He stopped walking, light from the next well touching only half his face. ‘And under what circumstances do you consider it acceptable that I break that oath? Must I hold to it even though my emperor is honourless? Even though he lied and cheated his way to a throne that ought never have been his?’
‘And if you break your oath you are equally honourless,’ I said, the words a whisper amid the echoes of his vehemence. ‘And our honour is all we have.’
I started to walk again and he walked beside me toward the light.
‘Hana.’ He was abrupt this time, allowing no time for me to interrupt. ‘You are Emperor Lan’s legitimate heir. Kisia is yours if you choose to take it.’
‘Are you saying I could rule Kisia without Kin?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’m saying.’
They were bold words, even spoken alone here buried beneath the ground. ‘That’s treason, Hade.’
‘Not from where I’m standing.’
Again I stopped. This time I could see his expression, one part sincerity and one part intense attention. He wasn’t looking through me as so many men had done. He wasn’t looking at just my body either. He was looking at me, clearly, confidently, and I found my hands shaking more than they had ever done on the eve of battle.
I returned his stare as boldly as I could, and it was he who looked away. Hade Ryoji, the youngest general in Kisian history, the determined, tough leader of the Imperial Guard, and he was turning his gaze from mine. For a moment his profile was outlined in blue haze, and it was not the profile of a nobleman. His features were not so much finely sculptured as worn to handsomeness as though by the weather.
For a moment it looked as though he would speak, but this time there were no words, just a strained smile and we were walking again, able now to see where the next light well broke the underground night.
With every step I grew more aware of him, of his height and his presence, of the way he walked and the sound of his breathing, of the click of his sandals and the smell of blood and sweat and ash that hung about him.
‘Hana.’
For the third time he spoke my name and turned suddenly, but this time we were close enough to the light that I could see every crease on his troubled brow. He touched my cheek. I did not pull away or turn my head, but stared right at him as his rough fingers ran into my hair. He caught my gaze and snatched his hand away.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I should not have done that.’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘You should not have done that.’
His jaw set hard. ‘We should keep walking.’
‘Yes.’
He started to walk again, but I did not follow. I had knelt across the Shrine Stone from Kin and given myself to him in all but the final formality, but between then and now the world had changed. I was not that girl anymore, and right now there was nothing I wanted more than to forget, even for just a moment, that Kisia needed me, and that Kin lay dying in Mei’lian while Katashi torched Shimai in our wake.
‘Hade.’
He stopped. ‘Yes?’
‘Come here.’
He came, frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that a moment ago you were standing right here, and now you are not.’ I pointed to the stones where he had stood and bemused, Hade returned and stood to attention.
‘My lady,’ he said, a laugh in his eyes. ‘How may I serve you?’
‘By standing still.’
His grin faded as I closed the space between us. The hollow of his collarbone was level with my eyes and for a moment I stared at it, resting a hand upon his chest. He didn’t move, didn’t touch me, just stood there, heart beating fast beneath my palm. Upon his chin the dark stubble of a rough few days was coarse beneath the trailing tip of my finger. Lips soft, cheek grazed, the rounded tip of his nose gleaming with sweat. His dark eyes were intent, hungry, watching me hunt my way up to meet them. And still he did not move.
I pressed my lips to his, the first kiss slow, hesitant, unsure how he would respond.
‘Hana,’ he said thickly, my kiss sticking to his bottom lip. ‘Please do not tease me.’
‘I’m not trying to tease you,’ I replied, speaking against his mouth. ‘I’m trying to kiss you.’
A little groan passed his lips, and the last of my fear fell to excitement. ‘Do you have a problem with that, General?’
‘No, my lady.’ He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat dipping. ‘But are you sure you want to do this?’
‘I’m sure.’ I pulled back, trying to read his expression. ‘What is it?’
‘Give me permission to move, please.’
‘You are free to move.’
The words had hardly left my lips before he kissed me, fiercely, one hand in my hair, the other trailing down my back. My body responded and I touched him everywhere I could – his arm, his shoulder, his neck, his jaw – marking him as my own. His passion was hot and all the more exhilarating for knowing I could stop him with a word.
He pulled away, breathing heavily. ‘Others will be coming along soon,’ he said, bending to rest his forehead against mine. ‘We have to keep moving.’
I swallowed hard, my own breath light and quick. ‘Damn your good sense,’ I said with a groan.
‘I’m damning it too, trust me.’
He stepped away, gripping his hair. ‘Oh gods. You’re…’ A long, slow breath passed between his lips. ‘That was… unexpected.’
‘Not unpleasantly so, I hope.’
‘No! Gods, no.’ More words sat on his tongue but instead of speak them he gestured in the direction of Mei’lian. ‘That way,’ he said. ‘We need to go that way.’
‘That way,’ I agreed.
My head buzzed as we walked on in step, so little space between us that our hands brushed together. I tried to concentrate, but knowing that he wanted me as much as I wanted him made it difficult to focus on anything but his warmth, his breath, and his presence.
‘What made you want to be an Imperial Guard?’ I asked as yet another light well came and went in a haze of bluish light.
‘That’s a sudden question,’ he said.
‘Bear with me. I’m trying not to think about how much I want to kiss you again.’
He groaned, and in the semi-darkness lifted his hands to his head. ‘You are cruel.’
‘Answer the question, it might help.’
‘You’re going to think the answer strange after what just happened,’ he said, the words disembodied by the darkness.
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, because you’re the reason I chose to become an Imperial Guard.’
My steps faltered. ‘What do you mean? You were already a general the day we met, when you saved me from the Pit.’
I could only imagine his grimace. ‘A day I will never forget.’
‘I killed him, you know,’ I said. ‘Councillor Ahmet. I poisoned him with Tishwa t
he night Katashi took Koi. I watched the breath choked from his body.’
‘After what he did I cannot say I blame you. He was a pig of a man.’
‘Yes, but we have digressed. You were telling me why you became an Imperial Guard.’
‘I was. Well…’ he took a deep breath. ‘My father is the only farrier in Giana, so everyone who visits the hot springs takes their horses to him whether commoner or nobleman.’
‘You’re from Giana? I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. I grew up on a farm north of Esvar, near the Fork.’
His chuckle came from the darkness. ‘Oh, you’re one of those nutty northerners of the Upper Valley.’
‘Better than being a slow southerner, I think.’
‘At least we had hot springs.’
‘True,’ I agreed, wistfulness in the words. ‘But there I go interrupting you again. Your father was a farrier.’
‘Yes, so as children we met almost every traveller that came to Giana. I must have been about nine or ten years old when Empress Li came to bathe in the waters. One of her guards stopped to have his horse shod while the empress was carried about town in her palanquin. My brothers and I chased after it with the other children, and when her carriers shooed us away she told them not to. So we followed her all the way up the hill to the inn.’
He had seemed to be reminiscing with little point, but he turned toward me then with a little smile. ‘She had to be helped out of the palanquin,’ he said. ‘Because she was heavy with child.’
It took a moment for this to sink in. ‘Wait? Me?’
‘Assuming my numbers are not out.’
‘Are you claiming some extra acquaintance with me because you saw my mother carrying me before I was born?’
He laughed. ‘No. Normally news travels fast to places like Giana because people are always coming and going, but during the storm season the town is as good as dead. So when the news came that Empress Li had given birth to a girl, you were already dead and Kisia was at war.’
My gut hollowed and a sudden lump in my throat paralysed speech. ‘I don’t remember,’ was all I managed.
‘Of course not. But I was as devastated as a ten-year-old boy can be. That was the day I swore to become an Imperial Guard.’