Prishata realized they had been most brilliantly played and outmatched.
“They never intended to kill Crown Prince Adri at all,” he said now, as much to himself as to the captain standing beside him. “This was their plan all along.”
To kidnap the prince’s beloved companion, the maid. Who also happened to be the mother of his unborn bastard child.
Karni
Karni felt fear.
It was pure, naked fear, not the kind of fear she felt late at night when she heard predators in the jungle, or the times when she saw a pair of eyes glowing in the darkness and knew there were beasts all around that would tear her to pieces and eat her alive. Not even the kind of fear she had felt when she had seen Shvate step off that high ledge.
This was the deepest fear she had. It was the fear of death itself. Of the dark, deadly power against which there was no defense, no recourse, no shield or mantra of protection. A power so great, all beings bowed before it—and succumbed.
She stood in the clearing in the jungle. At her request, Shvate and Mayla had retreated to a safe distance, partly to give her the privacy she desired, and partly because she was afraid for their sakes too. They were within earshot, but not within sight. She had insisted on that, against all Mayla’s requests and pleas. Shvate had been acquiescent to her wishes; he had been pleased enough that she had agreed to his request that he offer no argument against any of her conditions. It had taken him days to wear her down. He had used every philosophical argument imaginable, including some she had found so ludicrous that she had laughed out loud, to his distress and, once, to his offense. The words “Krushan law” had featured frequently in these arguments, as was common when men were trying to convince women to do something that women did not want to do. In the end, she had agreed not because he had convinced her philosophically but because she had accepted the basis of the whole argument itself.
She wanted to bear children legitimately.
Children she could call her own. Who could call her mother. Whom she could hug and kiss, pick up and swing around, feed and nurse, and put to bed, teach to walk, to run, to play, to share a million little things with, to teach a million things, to guide through the journey of life.
Children who would bear her name and be proud of it.
And if one or more of those children someday sat on the throne of Hastinaga, well, that was not such a bad thing either, was it?
She had been born a princess, was married to a future king, and had expected to birth an heir someday. Fate—and Shvate and Mayla’s mishap in the jungle—had intervened and turned her life in a different direction. But now she had an opportunity to redress that situation, to correct her course again and resume the path she had been meant to take. The circumstances were not of her choosing, the method not of her choice, but the goal would be the same at least. She would bear an heir and further the line of succession. She would save an empire, prolong a dynasty. And there was a certain personal pride in that achievement.
Shvate thought he was convincing her to do it for his sake. Men always made that mistake. They saw a woman as their mother, their sister, their daughter, their wife. They often forgot that a woman was also a person. That she existed in her own right. That she had thoughts, feelings, desires, hopes, ambitions, dreams, that had nothing to do with the men in her life. That were her thoughts, feelings, desires, hopes, ambitions, dreams.
Karni wanted to birth an heir to the Krushan dynasty. To see her own son or daughter sit on the Burning Throne. To see her flesh and blood rule the greatest empire in the world. She wanted that for herself. Shvate had had his chance, and he had made his mistake. She forgave him the mistake, but it was not her duty (or her Krushan law) to correct his mistake. As if anyone could do such a thing. What you did in life, you did alone. That was the essence of karma. Good deeds were nontransferable. She could no more wash away Shvate’s sins than he could wash away hers. They each had made their mistakes, and now they had to live with them.
But if he wanted to believe that it was his days of arguing and philosophical eloquence that had convinced her, well, let him think it. She knew the truth. It was in her heart. She wanted to be mother to a prince, a king, an emperor.
That was why, when she told him yes, finally, and after all the shouting and yelling and hugging and kissing and celebrating was over, and they had discussed which god she ought to summon up to father a child upon her, she had said crisply and decisively, “Shima.”
Shvate had frowned. “I’m not sure about that, but we can talk about it.”
“We can talk all you want, but if you want me to do it, it will be Shima, and that’s final.”
He had stared at her, surprised at her vehemence. “There are better choices. Sharra, for instance—”
She had looked away. “Not Sharra, definitely not Sharra.”
“But he’s one of the most powerful. He’s indomitable. A son birthed of Sharra would be invincible in battle, he would be able to face any enemy, any army, and easily—”
“Not Sharra,” she said sharply, turning to stare at him until he saw her resolve.
He threw up his hands. “I don’t understand why!”
“You don’t have to understand. You just have to accept it.”
He had risen to his feet then, the color showing in his cheeks, his male ego wounded. “If that’s how you’re going to go about this.”
“Shima is the greatest of all gods. He is powerful, more powerful than any other god, because they all have to adhere to his laws. And also, because he is Death.”
“Death,” Shvate said doubtfully, still upset.
“Everyone succumbs to Death. Even the gods fear him, because if he wished, he could destroy them as well.”
“Theoretically, I suppose,” Shvate said, “but in reality—”
“You just spent the last several days arguing with me about shima, the Krushan philosophy of duty, and how it’s the most important thing in the world. The underpinning of our entire existence. Are you really going to disagree with me on it now?”
Shvate looked at her, defeated. “Shima?” he said, cautiously.
“Shima,” she said, conclusively.
And so it had been settled.
But now that it was time, she felt the cold knife of fear twisting in her chest.
Everything reminded her of the last time, the first time. She felt an irrational panic because of how that had gone. Even though she tried to convince herself that this time was different, this time it was her husband who wanted her to do it, she still felt a twinge of her youthful guilt. She brushed it aside with an effort. Once she had made up her mind, she intended to go through with it. That was it.
She shut her eyes and recited the mantra.
The wind roared.
The jungle quietened.
The sky darkened.
A sound like a great peal of thunder boomed in her consciousness, yet her ears heard nothing, not a sound but the absence of all sound.
She opened her eyes and stared up at two dark piercing eyes.
He stood before her, black as night itself, as tall as a giant, as broad and powerfully built as a wrestler.
His hair was long and hung in curls around his shoulders, his eyes looked as if they were lined by kohl, but she sensed that it was natural. His pupils were diamond-bright, pulsing with a rhythm similar to a heartbeat, but also with a strange hypnotic swirling light. She looked at them for a moment and was sucked into them. With an effort, she forced herself to look away, to look down, lowering her head in respect.
“Shima.”
You desire a son.
“Yes.” She hesitated, then added, “A son with all the qualities of an emperor. Righteous, fearless, powerful, indomitable, a master of weapons and warcraft, a leader of armies and people, a master of strategy, a wise soul, a perfect, ideal man.” She was out of breath by the time she finished. She had memorized the litany to make sure that she would not forget or miss a single detail. She had rea
d far too many stories of people who asked gods for boons but were careless about the phrasing and ended up with a trumpet instead of a horn of plenty.
His thick lips curled in a smile, displaying ivory teeth inside his ebony skin. You know what you want. That is good.
She kept her head lowered, seeing him in the periphery of her vision, unwilling to chance being hypnotized again by the spiraling diamond light in his eyes.
He took a step toward her. You are sure this is what you want.
She nodded. “It is.”
Very well, then, Karni of Hastinaga. It shall be as you will.
He came toward her, his body blazing with black light, and she was engulfed by his darkness.
Part Six
* * *
Adri
Geldry screamed.
Adri heard her but did not stir. He had grown tired of Geldry’s tantrums and outbursts, her rages and furies. Let Kune deal with them. Her brother now lived permanently in the palace, always by his sister’s side, in her bedchamber . . . He had a seat at every Council already, and word was that he was a devilishly brilliant politician.
Vida kept trying to warn Adri about him, but Adri was weary of Vida’s warnings. If Kune wanted to involve himself in the swamp of Krushan politics, let him, by all means. Adri had no interest in politics—or in anything else. He had lost all interest in life itself since the attack at Riverdell. It would have been better if the attackers had killed him. By taking Sauvali, the only woman he had ever truly loved, they had wrenched his heart itself from his chest. He was bereft and broken. He could summon up no enthusiasm for anything anymore.
Those months with Sauvali had been wonderful, the most blissful time in his life. He had finally found true happiness in a world so full of pain and disappointment, and then it had been snatched away from him. Now all he could do was eat, drink—both as little as possible, only the bare minimum necessary for survival—and breathe. He did not attend Senate, or Council, even though Mother Jilana and Vrath both urged him repeatedly to do so, reminding him that he would soon be crowned samrat—emperor—and the more he involved himself with state affairs, the better it would be for his future. He did not care about his future, he did not care about the state, he cared about nothing. All he could think of was Sauvali and the time they had spent together.
At times, lying in bed, he felt as if he could reach out and touch her. But of course, she was gone. Emperor of the World, and yet the empire of his heart was desolate.
He heard someone enter his chambers, speaking roughly to his guard, who apologized and moved aside at once, announcing the visitor. “My lord, Prince Kune.”
Adri forced himself to assume an upright position. “Brother-in-law.”
“Adri, Geldry has done something. She needs help at once. Please come.”
Adri sighed. “I can’t deal with her outbursts, Kune.”
“This is something else. She . . .” Adri heard the note of panic in Kune’s voice and frowned. That sounded genuine. He had never heard Kune so scared. “She struck herself.”
Adri shook his head, not comprehending. “Struck herself?”
“Her belly. She struck her own belly, and . . . something came out.”
“I don’t understand, Kune. She struck her own belly? You mean the child?”
“Yes, yes. She struck at her belly to make herself birth the child. She was angry at hearing the news about Karni.”
Adri was confused. “News about Karni?”
Kune sounded exasperated and impatient. “We just received word from a visiting hermit that Karni and Shvate have had a son, the first heir to the Krushan throne.”
Suddenly Adri was alert and awake, for the first time in almost a year. He felt his face muscles move to form what sighted people called a smile. “That’s wonderful news! Happy day, Kune. My brother and sister-in-law have produced a son and heir. My nephew!”
“Yes, well, you can celebrate later. Right now, your wife needs you. She dislodged the child, and I am very concerned.”
“Dislodged?” Adri started to rise. “You mean she has given birth already? Two heirs in the same day? How fortuitous!”
“Not exactly.” Kune sounded harried. “I need you to send for Mother Jilana. I would do it, but she seems to . . . not like me very much. Besides, Geldry is your wife, this is your child too. Please send for her at once.”
“But she has given birth to our child, is that right?”
“No,” Kune said hollowly. “She has dropped something from her womb. But it is no child. That much is certain. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t a child, and it isn’t human.”
Jilana
Jilana felt her son’s presence before he appeared. As wild-haired and wild-eyed as ever. Staff in hand.
“I warned you of this day,” Vessa said.
“What day?” she asked. “What are you talking about, my son?”
Vessa indicated the doorway with his chin. “In a moment, you will receive word from Adri. Geldry heard the news of Karni’s child and was so angry with herself, she struck her own womb a furious blow.”
Jilana was taken aback. “I just heard of Karni’s news myself. It is a wonderful thing, to be sure. But Geldry? You mean, she has given birth?”
“It is no ordinary birthing. The thing she has evicted from her womb is a lump of flesh. It possesses life, but not life as you and I would expect.”
Jilana stared at him, shocked. “The . . . You called the child ‘it’—are you saying it isn’t human?” A part of her had known that Geldry’s preganancy was not normal—two years of gestation was hardly the norm, after all—but she had still clung to the hope that this was only a sign that the Krushan heir was somehow extraordinary, even touched with divinity. Vessa’s manner and words now told her otherwise. Not again, Goddess! For once give this family an heir without complications.
Vessa pursed his lips. “It is quasi-human.”
“What does that mean?”
“It defies my knowledge and my powers, because I was certain that this thing was the get of Jarsun himself, but it now appears that it may indeed be the seed of Adri after all.” Vessa shook his wildwood staff in frustration. “For some reason beyond my ken, even my powers cannot penetrate its composition. All I can say for certain is that the thing she produced can engender sons of great power.”
“Sons? Plural? I thought you said it is only a lump of flesh!”
Vessa looked at her. “A lump of flesh equivalent to a hundred sons.”
Jilana’s eyes widened. “A hundred . . . sons? Of Adri? Krushan heirs?”
Vessa gritted his teeth. “Let me tell you a story. I shall make it brief. Once, when I was traveling through Geldran, I stopped to nourish myself at a local chief’s house. The chief’s daughter waited on me with great diligence. Pleased with her service, I offered her a boon. She asked that when she bore children, she should bear a hundred sons. I granted the boon, as I have granted countless such requests. I left the chieftain’s house the next morning and thought no more of the girl. Until now.”
“Geldry was that girl? Years before her marriage and her arrival in Hastinaga?”
Vessa inclined his head. “And this thing she has produced is the culmination of my boon.”
Jilana felt her heart fill with joy. “So Karni and Shvate have birthed a son in the forest, and now Adri and Geldry shall be parents of a hundred sons!”
“Karni has already birthed two more offspring, and Mayla two as well. Shvate is now father to five great Krushan heirs. They are strong, powerful beings, each a god in in their own right.”
Jilana clapped her hands with delight. “Happy day! There shall be feasting. Celebrations. National holidays. Good times have returned to Hastinaga once more. I wish Sha’ant could be here with me today to share this joy. I am so filled with delight, I cannot express it in words.”
Vessa stepped forward, grasping his mother’s arm. “Mother, heed me well, I still see dark days ahead for this family, this emp
ire. These hundred sons of Adri and Geldry—”
“Are sons of Krushan. They shall be raised as heirs to our dynasty. Vessa, my son, I command you to go at once do whatever is needed to ensure the survival and good health of those sons of Geldry. I will hear no more dark prophecies and declarations. This is a day of celebration and rejoicing. Do not cloud it with your talk of omens and portents. This family has seen few happy times. This is one of those rare occasions. Go now, tend to Geldry and her babes. Do whatever must be done. They must live. They must flourish. I place this responsibility upon you.”
Vessa withdrew his hand slowly. “I shall do as you say, Mother. For your sake, and also because it was my boon that granted Geldry these hundred offspring. They shall indeed live, and flourish and be strong powerful beings, each a great warrior and leader in his own right. But I warn you now for the last time, if these sons of Geldry live, then Hastinaga shall yet see dark times. Celebrate today, but prepare also for the dismal days ahead. For as surely as my name is Vessa and I am gifted with the power to see past, present, and future events as clearly as you see me standing here today, I predict that these hundred sons shall be the downfall of the Krushan race. These are the sons of misrule.”
And with these chilling words, Vessa vanished from Jilana’s chamber.
Vessa
1
A dark pall hung over Hastinaga. Word on the street was that something terrible had happened to Princess Geldry. Ill omens were being sighted around the palace precinct. Carrion birds, wild animals, strange sights and sounds, misshapen clouds, unseasonal hail out of a clear sky . . .
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