The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  “This wouldn’t have happened if you kept your mouth shut,” he replied.

  “Do you honestly think the kind of shit you were trying to pull wouldn’t come back and haunt you? You forced my hand.” I sidled over to the edge of the bars to examine them. They were made of wood so thick it might as well have been iron. I tested it with a kick and frowned—it barely shifted.

  “I was kind enough to warn you before my own hands were forced to wring your little neck,” Lo Bahn spat. “The soldiers said they burnt down my house.”

  “You slept with snakes, Lo Bahn. Did you think you wouldn’t get bitten?” I resisted the temptation to dig at his sorrow further. There was a limit to my anger, and I had reached it. “You can ruin him, Lord Han. You’re aware of that, aren’t you? One word, and you can undo him.”

  Lo Bahn paused for a moment before he began laughing. “I don’t know what to think when I’m talking to you,” he said after he caught his breath. “You’ve got a tangled mind, worse than all the gambling lords and whorehouse mistresses in Shang Azi combined.”

  I ignored him. “That Qun. He’s very good at pretending. Too good. It’s almost like he’s a puppet in a play. So everything up to that point...” I trailed off, falling into deep thought.

  I heard Lo Bahn swear under his breath. “Well? Keep talking, woman. I’ve got no other entertainment in this blasted hole you’ve dragged us into, and unless you’re planning to show me your tits over the next hour—”

  “Do you talk like that in front of your daughters?”

  “Hardly. My sons, though…”

  I looked away. “There’s two threads to this. Qun’s personal ambitions are clear enough. But he’s also working for someone else. It’s conflicting with his desires, complicating things for him—especially since he’s technically still in office and has to abide by all the rules of the Empire. What does he have to gain from wanting Rayyel dead, for instance? My husband is nothing to him. He…” I felt myself grow numb as soon as the last few words left my lips. No, I thought. It can’t be. To want Rayyel dead, while leaving me alive…

  “What?” Lo Bahn asked.

  “Nothing,” I whispered. Lo Bahn didn’t know about Yuebek. He didn’t have to. Yuebek was dead. Or so I had convinced myself…I didn’t see his body, and there had been no official announcement to confirm or deny the whole thing. I had assumed it was because the whole situation was an embarrassment to the empire. The Esteemed Emperor’s son, going through the lengths Yuebek did to obtain power…it was despicable.

  None of that mattered. Yuebek was dead.

  I placed my head on my arms and willed the darkness to go away. It seemed as if I had been doing nothing but that over the past few months—awake or dreaming, I was begging the shadows to recede and reveal the walls of my home on Oka Shto Mountains, that I may stumble towards my son’s bed and curl beside him before dawn came to light the windows on fire. It was only in the past year or so that he had started sleeping in his own room—he used to sleep beside me in the years after his father left us. The aron dar Ikessars, distant relatives who acted as his guardians, didn’t like this, claiming it would make the child too clingy, but it was the old way and I dared them to say otherwise. “The king will hear from this,” they liked to grumble whenever I told them off.

  “So go find the bastard,” I would reply. “And while you’re at it, make sure to ask him what kind of parent abandons his child. If I’m the one at fault, why hurt him, too?”

  I opened my eyes back to the prison cell. Lo Bahn was throwing a pebble at the wall, watching it clack into the darkness before getting up to find and retrieve it. A restless man, Lo Bahn; it wasn’t surprising how he had gone so far in his forty years or so of existence.

  “How long has it been?” I asked.

  I heard him huff. “An hour or so. Moon’s up.”

  “No word from Qun?”

  Lo Bahn snorted. “The man isn’t the sort who’d go down and taunt his enemies. Not in his blood. I can respect that about him, if not much else. Certainly not his taste in women.” He shuddered.

  “You make your bed…” I started.

  “Yes,” he snapped. “I get it. You don’t have to lord it over me.”

  “He taunted me. Played with me. But I was nothing to him—there was nothing he wanted from me other than to see me shamed, just like when I first arrived in this damned city.”

  “Obviously, he’s keeping you locked up here for someone else.”

  I felt my senses crawl.

  Lo Bahn gave a humourless chuckle. “You’ll be all right. This is all just play to you, isn’t it?” He gestured at the bars. “Half the women I know would have wept themselves senseless by now. The others would be calmly waiting for the tide to turn, or else be trying to figure out how to get out of here. But you…you’re enjoying this, almost. I saw it on your face when we played Hanza the day we met.”

  “You’re severely misreading me, Han. Do I look like I’m enjoying myself?”

  His grin looked like a snarl. “Maybe you don’t enjoy it, then. But it’s all you know. This dance, this looking at people, deciding what piece they play in your little game. Is it a pawn? A priest? A soldier? Born to be queen—I know that much, anyway. You’d have your entire nation feeding off your hand except for one thing: your zealous dedication to your king.”

  “You don’t win a game of Hanza without the king. It’s the rules.”

  “Can’t you?” He laughed. “Then rewrite them. It’s just a damn game. This whole thing—it’s all in your blood.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. We fell into an uneasy silence. Lo Bahn returned to his stone throwing. It became a little irritating to hear the pebble clattering over and over again, but he was the sort of person who would do things if you told him not to, so I kept my mouth shut, hoping he would tire of it soon. The shadows shifted, cast from the moonlight that steadily grew stronger behind us. I thought of the pregnant bitch dog I had left back home, how many pups she had. I had been looking forward to that litter.

  Somehow, I managed to fall asleep, which was surprising—I had expected to dream of the corpses in the gorge under the falling rain, the dead servants at Lo Bahn’s mansion, and Khine’s voice, thick as the fog. Rivers of blood. But it is hard, I think, for a single person to grasp the weight of their own actions, to make sense of the ripples our every decision makes. It is why we hurt and continue to get hurt; how we can plunge a knife into someone, wash the blood off, and pretend it didn’t happen. Even when your entire world turns upside-down, you carry on like it didn’t.

  I awakened in the dead of the night to the sound of the wind beating at the windows. I blinked against the darkness, which was followed by the sensation of being forced underwater. There was a hand on my mouth.

  My body reacted even before my brain could fully awaken—feet flung forward, hands reaching for the sword I had forgotten Qun’s guards had confiscated. The figure tapped my shoulder before pulling back to point at Lo Bahn. There was a dart sticking out of his neck.

  My eyes widened. The figure shook its head. Almost at once, Lo Bahn began to snore.

  Two parts relief, one part confusion, rushed into me. The figure placed a finger on its lips before drawing back. “Queen Talyien,” a raspy voice greeted me. A woman’s. “Beloved Queen.” She spoke in Jinan.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “A servant to Jin-Sayeng,” she said. She was dressed completely in black, tight clothes that hid her well in the shadows.

  I wiped my mouth, grimacing with distaste. Her hand had stunk of herbs. “Which lord sent you?”

  “Jin-Sayeng,” she repeated. “You are her queen, are you not?”

  “The last time I checked. Why did you drug Lo Bahn?”

  “Certain things have to remain discreet, for all our sakes.”

  Realization dawned on me. “You’re an Ikessar agent,” I said, sitting up. My husband’s clan had used such tactics in every civil war and unrest that had
reared its head over the years. On the surface, they pretended to be passive and peace-loving, a clan that valued progression and ideas and all those things that people loved to hear about. They even refused to maintain an army because of it. It took a long time for the nation to learn that they kept appearances up by killing the people who disagreed with them.

  Her lips twisted into a half-smile. “I am not, Beloved Queen, though I do not blame you for thinking so.” She cleared her throat. “But if you so insist on knowing, then very well. I was sent by the Shadows.”

  “Do you take me for a fool? The Shadows served the Ikessars. Was it my husband?”

  “The Shadows were once the Ikessar’s, during the War of the Wolves. They haven’t been in twenty-eight years, my queen.”

  I pulled away from her, resisting the urge to rub my temples. “The war ended nearly twenty-seven years ago.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Are you telling me the Ikessars continued to fight without the Shadows’ aid? I always thought it was Kaggawa who convinced Princess Ryia to consider a betrothal to end the war.”

  “I do not know the details, Beloved Queen. Kaggawa led the Shadows in the last half of the war. I am here under the orders of Dai alon gar Kaggawa, servant of Jin-Sayeng.”

  I had not heard that name in years. The memory of my chance meeting with the man sixteen years ago came rushing back to me. He had saved me and Rayyel from a stray dragon, lecturing us like the children we were. I knew of his family and their contribution to Jin-Sayeng over the decades, and that he was involved with both the rice merchants of the Sougen and the Anyu clan who had seized control of the plains from the merchants. Beyond that, I knew little else. I was Queen of a nation with so many clans and families to keep track of; I had very little patience for petty intrigue.

  I slowly pushed myself up along the wall, staring at this woman who had somehow snuck her way into a well-guarded cell. What did I know of the Shadows beyond what my father’s scribes had written about them?

  “I think it’s about time you tell me what you came here for,” I said.

  The woman’s face was expressionless as she spoke. “I’ve come to take you home, Beloved Queen.”

  “Home?” I repeated like a halfwit. I had almost forgotten what that word meant.

  “Master Dai sent us as soon as we heard of your disappearance. He was convinced none of the warlords would act, and he was right. They have all but abandoned you. We, on the other hand, know where our loyalties lie. We have a ship waiting for you in An Mozhi.”

  Chapter Five

  The Flight to the Crossroads

  I stared back at her. A ship—after all this time… “I’ve been here for months,” I nearly hissed. “Why would you send your ship all the way south? I thought everyone knew I was trapped in Anzhao.”

  The agent looked amused at my attempt to remain calm. The most disappointing thing about this whole excursion—more so than my soldiers and handmaiden’s betrayal or my husband’s indifference—was the silence from my own people. Was it too much to expect someone, anyone, to send an army on my behalf? They could’ve gone and trampled my enemies while they were at it. It would be nice to see Qun’s smug head on a spike.

  I knew it was wishful thinking. A show of power of that magnitude could result in retaliation from the mighty Zarojo Empire, one that my tiny nation would have no power against. My warlords would sooner see me dead than risk their lands and people—a basic truth in Jin-Sayeng, one I had known since birth.

  “There were no reports to confirm or deny otherwise, Beloved Queen,” she said. “It is said that the Oren-yaro are aware of your exact circumstances, but they’ve been tight-lipped about it. The others, of course, accuse Lord General Ozo aren dar Tasho of blatantly refusing to send aid. He insists he has.”

  My ears were burning. “One man came, against his orders.”

  “They think Lord Ozo is making moves to seize control of the Oren-yaro. He’s got the blood, and with you the only living, direct heir of the Orenar, your bannermen would allow it.”

  “I’m still alive! And my son, Thanh…”

  “Is an Ikessar,” she reminded me.

  “Madness,” I murmured. “The world is falling apart and they’ve resorted to finger-pointing. So my general doesn’t send help. Can’t they spare the people themselves? Am I still not Queen of Jin-Sayeng?”

  “Why are you surprised?” the agent asked. “This is the world of the Jin-Sayeng royals, is it not?”

  I saw what she was getting at. “So Kaggawa, playing the hero, sends you. The common man breaks his silence and comes to show us how it’s done.”

  She ignored the insult. “Kaggawa’s businesses are based out of Ni’in and Nalvor, well outside of Jinsein politics. An Mozhi is the closest port from these towns. From there, we traced your location to Anzhao City. We watched and waited—there were too many lurking about you, and we wanted to make sure we understood what was happening, what was keeping you there and why you weren’t trying to make your way back home yourself.”

  “And did you?” I asked.

  A soft smile appeared on her lips. “History will have much to say about your love and devotion to Prince Rayyel.”

  “Gods,” I sighed. “Between you and me, I’d prefer a better legacy.”

  “We didn’t realize how serious things were until the massacre happened and we heard your name mentioned amongst the guards. This is the first time we’ve had the chance to talk to you alone.”

  “How large is the Shadows, exactly?”

  “We have vast resources, Beloved Queen,” she continued. “Master Dai is well-connected. We will protect you. Come home with us.”

  “What do you get in return?”

  “Your ear.”

  “Which one?”

  Not a joker, this woman. She stared at me the same way my tutors used to whenever I opened my mouth. I pressed my lips into a grim smile.

  “You were once the Ikessars’. You’re telling me that you want to pledge your allegiance to me instead?”

  “To Jin-Sayeng,” she said. “Of which you are still the queen.” She was now repeating it like I was a child, or at least the aforementioned halfwit.

  “Your offer is tempting, but you have to understand—when I hear the word Shadows, I am reminded of the people which you so willingly assassinated in the Ikessars’ name. There’s quite a list.”

  “The past is the past. You bedded with the Ikessars, too—not that you need anyone to remind you of that.” She gave a quick smile. “All Master Dai wants, Queen Talyien, is the chance to speak with you about the plight of the west, which your Jin-Sayeng seems to have so easily neglected the past few years.”

  “My Jin-Sayeng? Is there any other?”

  “The rest of it, Beloved Queen.” I was impressed at how she could be both informative and insulting.

  “And then he’ll ask me for favours, because by that point, I’ll owe him,” I snorted. “A fair attempt. You might think this is a game, but it’s one I’ve been playing since I was a child. I know what you people are trying to do.”

  “Maybe so,” she said. “But do you have any other choices?”

  I bit my lip. Perhaps I did. But none came to mind that was as easy as saying yes. Gods, yes. I wanted to go home.

  She took my silence as agreement. “I understand that you are not one to give your trust so willingly—in truth, I would think less of you if you were. The city of An Mozhi is some distance to the south. I understand you intend to travel that way. The featherstone mines in Ruby Grove, was it?”

  I stared at her. “I thought Qun was the one who ransacked Eridu’s establishment. It must’ve been you.”

  She merely smiled. “The ship, Aina’s Breath—you can’t miss it. It’s the only Kag ship on the docks. We will be there once you’ve concluded your errand. In the meantime, we’ve made things easy for you.” She craned her head back, where the window was wide open, the hinges creaking with the wind.

  I felt mysel
f get up. “And you’re going to give me time to think about it, just like that?”

  “I want to give you a reason to trust us. We are your servants come to fetch you, Beloved Queen, not drag you back home like a trussed chicken for slaughter.” She vaulted up the open window before turning around to offer me a hand.

  I ignored her and crawled up the windowsill myself. She smiled as we found ourselves in an empty courtyard. A blanket of stars twinkled overhead, and I could smell wet grass and wet horses. In the distance, I could see the silhouettes of the saddled beasts. There were no guards in sight.

  The woman whistled to the horses. They came trotting towards us, snuffling. She handed me the reins. “They burned down Han Lo Bahn’s house,” she said. “I wouldn’t go back there now.”

  “I know. I was there.” I swallowed. “Three horses. You know the exact number of servants I have. What else?”

  “Your people have congregated at an inn near the outskirts, the one with three cherry trees and a fountain near the street. Your guards and the four siblings that go by the name of Lamang.”

  “Next you’ll be telling me what I ate for breakfast the day before.”

  She gave a thin smile.

  “You probably do know, you smug bitch.”

  “May the gods bless you, Beloved Queen.”

  ~~~

  When my son was little, I used to take him down to the riverside to skip stones. We were followed, as always, by a parade of robed men and women who fretted over everything, from my son’s clothes to the way he spoke, and an entire retinue of guards. Thanh and I would make a game out of it. “Pretend they’re not there,” I would tell him, and he would march past a fuming Ikessar and deliberately talk over him in a very loud voice. We would pick the smoothest, flattest pebbles from the shore and watch with satisfaction as they flipped along the water. Sometimes it didn’t work, and sometimes we made it so that it didn’t work on purpose, creating big splashes which never ceased to infuriate his guardians. We’d laugh at them until tears rolled down our cheeks.