The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  So I tried to focus on nodding along while the cheerful shopkeeper described the cut of the silk dress I was buying. They were Zarojo style, and rather expensive—a detail that didn’t seem to make Lahei blink at all. She had not lied about the Shadows’ vast resources.

  I left the shop looking nothing like the plain-clothed woman who had been running around the empire the past seven months. It was suddenly easy to remember that I was a royal, that begging and hiding and sneaking were not elements of the world I had been raised in. I caught Agos’ and Nor’s eyes widen at the sight of me, and Agos looked like he was having trouble breathing. “Beloved Queen,” they murmured.

  “Streak of dirt on my face?” I asked brightly.

  “Now that you mention it…” Lahei said. She leaned forward to wipe my cheek with her thumb.

  “Are your men ready?”

  “Let me worry about them, my queen. You focus on the harbourmaster.”

  “We don’t have room for error. One slip, and…”

  “My men are capable, my queen. As I assured you.”

  I heard someone clear his throat. The Lamang brothers appeared at the end of the street. Cho was dressed in plain clothes, but with a servant’s hat on his head and the usual scowl on his face. I drifted from him to Khine, who, like me, was dressed in noble’s clothing—black silk and satin. Perhaps it was the contrast to how I had always seen him, but his appearance gave me pause. He looked…almost lordly.

  Khine came up to me. “They’re already talking,” he said in a low voice. “The tailor’s son was gossiping about a commotion in the upper district.”

  I held my breath. “Any word on Lo Bahn?”

  “Nothing that I could make out. Qun’s been arrested for conspiracy, though. And people are talking about the embargo, about how Gon Zheshan used his connections to ask for it and force Lord Rayyel to stay in the empire.”

  “Lo Bahn followed through,” I said. “And I doubt Hizao will have him killed if he can be a witness. What did I tell you, Lahei? The man may not look like it, but knows his way around these people.”

  Lahei gave me a nod of acknowledgement. “Now for your part,” she said.

  “The easy part,” I replied, hooking my arm through Khine’s. “Shall we pay a visit to the harbourmaster, my love?” I asked sweetly. I could see Agos glowering in the corner.

  Khine gave a small nod.

  We walked down the street like this, with only Cho following us a good distance behind. I caught a glimpse of us from a shop window and was pleased to see that we looked like a proper Zarojo nobleman and his wife. Of course, the expression on Khine’s face said something else entirely—I had heard the phrase “a walking dead man” uttered more than once, which I found fitting to describe him now. I hoped it was enough to fool people with…if I didn’t carry such an obvious Jinsein accent, I would’ve gone alone. I needed his craftiness, needed the old con-artist who reveled in this sort of thing. It grated that I was asking this from him at such a difficult time.

  We arrived at the harbourmaster’s office. It was quieter than I expected—there was a single receptionist fanning herself and picking at her teeth in the corner. She looked at us as we entered.

  “My dear, are you sure we’re at the right place?” I asked, pulling Khine close to me.

  I felt him took a deep breath, and for a moment, I was almost sure he was going to give up and walk away. And then he leaned over the desk to look the receptionist in the eye. “My wife and I saw this ship at the docks. We were wondering if you could point us to the owner.”

  The receptionist set her fan aside to stare at us. “Why?” she finally asked.

  “Why, to buy it, of course,” Khine said. He sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

  “I…”

  “It’s not even noon yet, woman! What a despicable way to run an administrative office. I demand to see the harbourmaster at once. Bah!” So—he was worried about Lo Bahn, too. It was almost a convincing depiction.

  My fingers found their way to his hand. He reached back, holding them tight for a moment before pulling away to slam his fists on the desk. The receptionist jumped back, glaring at us with a vehemence that must’ve been honed by years of dealing with foul-tempered sailors. But the display worked. She pushed herself away from the desk and fled to the end of the hall, where we heard her pound against a door.

  The harbourmaster arrived, a stooped woman that stood as high as my shoulder, with sagging jowls and a puckered mouth. “What’s this?” she demanded. She looked at us, and after a moment of consideration—us in our expensive clothing, while Cho stood quietly in the corner with his head bowed—her expression changed. “That foolish girl didn’t tell me we had such distinguished visitors. You may call me Manshi Gwe. Come in, come in. Forgive the mess.” She bowed and gestured at us to follow her into her office. We left Cho behind.

  “Now,” Gwe continued, rubbing her hands together as soon as the door closed. “How can this old woman be of service to you?”

  “My wife and I have been looking for a ship for our business,” Khine said. “There is one at the harbour that fits the bill. We were wondering if you could point us to the owner so we could make a transaction. It’s a Kag ship, white sails…”

  “Yes,” Gwe said, trotting to her desk to pull out a piece of paper. “The Aina’s Breath. It’s the only Kag ship in our registry.”

  “And the owner?” Khine asked, letting the impatience seep into his voice just like it would’ve if he was Lo Bahn.

  Gwe gave the appeasing smile of an experienced bureaucrat. “It doesn’t matter. The ship’s not allowed to sail by orders of the governor.”

  Khine’s face tightened. “Direct orders?”

  “No-o…” the woman intoned. “There’s a temporary order preventing Zarojo ships from heading to Jin-Sayeng, you see, and the crew let on that they intended to sail to Ni’in. Ni’in is not too far from Jin-Sayeng. We had to make a decision.”

  “We.” Khine seated himself on the mat without invitation and motioned for me to do the same. I knelt, rather demurely, straightening my skirts like a proper wife would’ve. Khine folded his hands over the harbourmaster’s desk. “You mean you, of course.”

  Gwe blinked. “It is my job.”

  “I don’t see what part of your job prevents you from at least putting me in contact with the ship’s owner. Unless…” And here, he pulled out a purse from his sleeve and slid it across the desk. His face remained stern. “As it happens, I’ve just heard that this embargo is under suspicion as a ploy created by the late Governor Zheshan of Anzhao for his own personal affairs.”

  Manshi Gwe’s face didn’t change much except for a slight upturn of her lips. “A grave accusation.”

  “Very much so.”

  “But we are only following protocol. We had nothing to do whatsoever with this Zheshan’s affairs.”

  Khine snorted. “Obviously. But I don’t, either, so you can see why your refusal to cooperate is grating my nerves.”

  “There are other ships in the harbour that I can direct your attention to. I’m sure their owners will be more than happy to discuss a sale with you.”

  “Those flimsy things? I need something I can sail around the continent, something that won’t break in a storm.” He nodded at the purse, which remained untouched on the table. “Consider that a gift. As it happens, I’m aware of the protocol surrounding seized assets. After a certain period of time, you’re allowed to sell them to free up the harbour space and keep a certain percentage of the profit in fees.”

  Gwe sat back and began to fan herself with her hand. “Perhaps this is true. Perhaps it isn’t.”

  “This situation is not going to resolve itself in a day, or a month, or perhaps even years if I know how these things go. There’ll be inquiries, hearings. And in the meantime, what’s going to happen to the ship? Will you allow it to fall into disarray?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Bah! You don’t know. Don’t even pretend,
mistress. But I can tell you this: if you can help me convince the owner to sell, I will be very generous. I want this ship. I need this ship.”

  “The embargo still stands.”

  “The ship does not technically fall under it,” Khine snarled. “Do you want me to go over the details? You’re detaining it illegally, and if this embargo is found out to be illegal as well—do you see how badly this can go for you?” Then he gave a quick grin. “It doesn’t have to be, of course. If you cooperate with both me and the ship’s owner, I’m sure we can sweep this under the rug. Tell me, how useful transfer fees, fattened up a little, would be for your drab little office? Some drapes for your windows, a better receptionist…”

  I saw Gwe’s muscles twitch. He had her. After another moment, she nodded. “I can tell you where to find the ship’s owner. I’m told they’re staying at an inn near the harbour.”

  “Thank you,” Khine said. “My wife and I will want to take a look at the ship, too. I trust your guards won’t be trouble?”

  “I’ll draw up an order right now.” She pulled out a piece of paper. “Anything else I can do for you, Lord…?”

  ~~~

  Khine kept up the act for the rest of the afternoon. I had never seen him go so long without breaking character before, and it worked so well that Mistress Gwe went as far as taking us to the inn herself to find Lahei. The entire exchange kept me on my toes—Lahei had not expected Gwe to show up herself and kept her answers short. She would’ve folded under scrutiny.

  But Khine took over the gaps and the long pauses, and we soon found ourselves boarding the ship while Gwe gestured for the guards to step aside. I felt the thickness of the wooden deck under my boots and had a sudden glimpse of Lahei’s love and pride for the ship. Even the rails were polished and oiled.

  “Once I buy this vessel, you will allow my crew to take the ship to Anzhao?” Khine was asking.

  Gwe tapped her shoes together. “When all the papers go through, I don’t see why not.”

  Khine walked to the base of the mast and looked up. “How long has this ship been docked here?”

  “A few months,” Lahei replied.

  “Is that typical for you? I would assume that you’d want to get your goods and get out as soon as the weather is fair. Several months at the harbour seems suspicious.”

  Lahei looked confused. “I don’t understand—”

  “Is the ship seaworthy?”

  The anger that crossed her features was real. “Of course she’s seaworthy. I’ve never known a more seaworthy ship in my life. She’s gone all the way to the frozen Shi-uin sea, if you can believe it.”

  Khine made a sound and turned to me. “I’m starting to change my mind, wife. There must be a reason why the ship hasn’t left harbour in so long.”

  “It’s indeed been registered last spring,” Gwe said, looking down at her papers with a measure of uncertainty. “And the ship was detained only two weeks ago. Perhaps…” She trailed off as Khine stamped his foot on the deck.

  “What are you doing?” Lahei asked in shock.

  “If I check the hold, will it have your goods?” Khine replied.

  Lahei stared at him.

  “You’re a merchant. If they only detained you a few weeks ago, right before you were about to leave—as you said—then your hold should be full. If I go there now, what will I find? Will it be as empty as your lies?” He crossed his arms smugly.

  Lahei didn’t reply. We had no idea Khine was going down this road. He had only asked us to follow his lead, and…

  “Husband,” I said out loud. “It doesn’t matter whether she’s lying about their business or not. I’m more interested in whether we can use the ship. Perhaps a test run…?”

  “I was about to suggest that,” Khine said without a note of humour. He turned to Gwe. “Can you ask your men to lift the anchor? I would like to sail around the harbour.”

  “I’m not sure I can allow that,” Gwe said. “With ahh, a limited crew…”

  “Bah! Don’t be an idiot. Of course we can’t go far with a limited crew. But I’m sure my man there can manage.” He nodded towards the silent Cho before glancing back at Lahei. “What do you think? Can she make it to the end of the harbour, at least? We have a fair wind blowing.”

  “Of course she can make it,” Lahei said. Her face was very red—she hadn’t expected this line of inquiry. “There’s nothing wrong with my ship.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Khine turned back to Gwe, who nodded after a moment’s hesitation. She went up to the side of the ship and whistled to the guards.

  Lahei and Cho began to work at the chains to pull the anchor up.

  I looked at Khine, who looked at Gwe. “Are you sure you’d rather not stay at the docks, mistress?” he asked. “You’ve already been quite helpful.”

  “To the end of the harbour and back,” Gwe said, wiping her perspiration with a handkerchief. “Like you said.”

  Khine glanced at me. I shrugged. The ship began to move and Lahei made her way up to the ship’s wheel. I watched as the dock grew smaller in the distance. The guards disappeared from sight.

  “This is too far,” Gwe broke in. “Off to the left some more. Hey, you!” She turned to Lahei, who ignored her.

  Gwe’s face turned pale. “Tell her to stop,” she said, grabbing Khine’s arm. “This won’t do! If they find out back in the office…”

  The hatch from the lower deck creaked open. Lahei’s men and my guards stepped out.

  “I’m afraid we’re heading out to sea after all,” Lahei called out to us. “Mistress Gwe…the ship’s not for sale.”

  She gaped at us.

  “We’ll give you a boat,” Khine said. “I don’t expect you to swim back.”

  “This is…” Gwe started. “The Governor will hear from me. He’ll…”

  “Be too far away to do anything,” I broke in. “I’m sorry for the trouble. But you’ll be home by dinner time, don’t worry.” I patted her shoulders. She stared numbly at the deck, shaking.

  The men started to work on the sails. In no time at all, the ship was finally headed full-speed across the Zarojo Sea.

  Chapter Four

  Ni’in

  There are no words that can describe the feeling of having shed a burden and facing the winds that would bring me home. If I could write poetry, if I at least knew how to create imagery meant to evoke the beauty of emotion and all these things that make people clasp their hands and gasp in awe, I might be able to find the pretty words for what I felt as I stared at the fading shoreline on the horizon. If I was a poet and not simply a woman whose memories were bursting from her heart and onto paper, I might have found better ways to describe the trail of foam behind the currents against the setting sun, or the stars that crept along the edges of the grey sky above that swollen sea. Or the shadows that danced on Khine’s face as he dropped beside me on the deck—a faint ghost of the proud, arrogant man he had appeared earlier. Perhaps I don’t need words. Perhaps the reminder that joy and sorrow went hand-in-hand is enough. No laughter without at least a few tears. No light, without the dark.

  I reached out to cup his cheek with my hand.

  He made no sign, no motion, of having noticed me. I pulled away and left him to join Lahei. She was still at the ship’s wheel, staring at the spread of maps and a compass on the table. “I don’t really think they’ll send anyone after us, but I’ll rest easier once we’re in Kag waters,” she mumbled.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “Twenty days, if the weather stays like this.”

  “You said before that we were travelling to Ni’in in the Kag. I’ve accepted that you may not want to take me to Sutan, which is closer to Oren-yaro but will take you further away from your business. Why not head straight for Fuyyu, to the south? I can take another ship from there.”

  Lahei gave me a grim smile. “My father wants to speak with you as soon as possible. He is waiting for us at Ni’in. To dock at Fuyyu would mean dealing with a
uthorities.”

  “My authorities.”

  She smiled.

  I took a deep breath. Not even an hour in and it’s already started. “I was under the impression that we were working together.”

  “Are we not, my queen?”

  “You tell me. It almost sounds like you’re going to detain me against my will. Tell me, Kaggawa—am I your queen, or your hostage?”

  She dropped her head. “It may seem like it, but believe me, this is merely a precaution. We do not know the sort of ill-intention that lurks through the streets of Fuyyu.”

  “There are no warlords in Fuyyu. The city officials answer directly to the Dragonthrone.”

  “The Ikessar-appointed officials?”

  I smiled at her. “Are you suggesting the Ikessars are not to be trusted? You people worked with the Ikessars once, did you not?”

  “I’m not implying anything, my queen,” Lahei replied. It sounded honest enough, although the knowledge that she couldn’t act her way out of a wet paper bag probably helped. “That said, your husband is an Ikessar and didn’t seem to trust them, either. Else why would he be alone out here, relying on the Zarojo almost as much as you?”

  I paused, considering her words, before pulling myself into the chair next to the table. “Be straight with me, Lahei.”

  “How straight, Beloved Queen?” She leaned over the ship’s wheel to face me. “Shall we talk about the situation back home now? Are you sure you’re ready to hear them?”

  I laughed. “I thought we’ve discussed this before. You’ve as much implied that you’re the only people I should be trusting. Did I get it right? Every single one of my warlords are only looking out for themselves, and my own general and lords, it seem, are no better. Tell me something I don’t know, Kaggawa.”

  She smiled. “The queen is wise. But also a lot less concerned about this situation than I feel she should be.”

  “Must I stomp my feet and scream? Run around like a headless chicken?” I leaned across the table to glance at the map before turning back to her. “I know what the warlords feel about me, Lahei. It’s not news to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of them decided not to send help because they were hoping I would just die out here. As for Lord Ozo, I have every intention of having him answer for his actions while I’ve been away. If he is indeed involved with Yuebek, he will not go unpunished.”