by Devin Madson
‘Where is Monarch?’ The councillor enunciated every word slowly and clearly.
My sight blurred, Praetor’s grip so tight I thought my scalp would tear away leaving nothing but a cap of bone. I screamed, clawing at his hands.
‘Where is Monarch?’
I could barely hear the words, but backlit by the distant torches, I saw the councillor nod. Praetor dragged me down, hair ripping from my scalp. I fell onto my hands. The floor was cold, slippery. I tried to pull away, but he dug his knee into my back and forced my cheek to the floor. It was wet and foul and mushed upon my face. I gagged at the stench.
‘What is Monarch planning?’
Praetor paused, and I could imagine the little nod that caused the wrinkles in the councillor’s neck to crease. A hand grasped my waistband, hot despite the frigid air. Panicking, I tried to buck him off, but he slammed me back so hard my hipbone ground against the stones.
‘Who is Monarch?’ the councillor insisted, his voice strained and breathless.
Monarch. If he were here now he would gut you both, I thought, the bloody imagining renewing my strength. I bucked again, but Praetor was so heavy I barely shifted him.
His hard prick touched my leg. All sense abandoned me. I screamed, bucking and twisting, trying in vain to wrench out of his grip. This was really going to happen. Would the vials break when he rammed his flesh into mine? I hoped they would, hoped the poison would work from inside and set me free. I had no other weapon left.
The needle.
I could feel it in the thin fabric, and began to work it free. Smooth. Sharp.
No more questions came. The councillor was breathing heavily, his fevered huffing heating the air. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt them both, but I would only get one chance.
Praetor shifted his weight. He tugged at my breeches. I waited, lying limp, hating my vulnerability as he pressed me into the floor.
His hot skin touched my leg. He parted my thighs. I let out a feigned sob, whitening fingers pinched upon the needle. Praetor gripped my hips. He dragged me back, hot hands pressing my legs further apart. Breathe. Wait. You’ll only get one chance. His prick slid up my thigh. I could not wait, could not turn, just thrust the needle into flesh.
Praetor howled. He leapt up, the moment of freedom all I had hoped for. I scrambled to my feet and tugged at my breeches. I had no thought but to get away, no thought but to run, and I slammed full force into the councillor. He gripped my hair and wrenched my head back hard. ‘I love a spirited woman,’ he said, running a tongue over his dry lips. ‘All the more fun to break. Do you really think you can get away? Do you think someone is going to save you? Your rebel dogs have abandoned you.’
He didn’t care for questions anymore. He was breathing fast, the air hissing out of his nose as he clamped his lips shut. ‘Kneel,’ he said.
When I didn’t move he tightened his grip.
‘I said kneel.’
Again I saw that terrible little nod and Praetor’s foot pressed into the backs of my knees. I hit the stones, blinking back tears.
‘It’s time you begged for mercy,’ the councillor said, untying his sash, its end trailing across the soiled floor.
‘If you dare, I’ll bite your prick off and spit it in your face.’
He let go my hair and hit me with the back of his hand. I fell back, touching my cheek with soiled fingers. My whole body ached. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to rip his skin from his flesh and his eyes from their sockets, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was hate my womanhood all the more. They could beat me and have their way and I was powerless to stop them. No revenge would satisfy. There was no equivalent suffering I could ever force them to endure.
The councillor crouched and gripped my chin between his fingers, squeezing so tight I thought my jaw would snap. My mouth was too dry to even spit at him. ‘You are going to die, little love, don’t you want me to make a woman of you first?’
‘Don’t I need a man for that?’
His grip tightened. ‘Before I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.’
‘Councillor!’
The councillor’s head snapped around. ‘What?’
Scraping steps sounded on the ladder, and another dark figure entered my pit, the firelight burning around him like an aura.
‘I bring a message from His Majesty,’ the man said, coming across the floor. ‘He demands you bring the prisoner to him immediately. Unharmed.’
The emphasis upon the last word made me want to laugh. I pulled away from the councillor’s suddenly slackened grip, the hair caught around his fingers ripping from my scalp.
‘You had better do as Kin tells you,’ I said, yanking up my breeches and hugging the remains of my tunic to my chest.
‘Don’t you dare utter the emperor’s name,’ the councillor snarled. He pulled his hand back ready to hit me, but the newcomer caught his wrist.
‘Let go or I’ll have you whipped,’ Councillor Ahmet hissed.
‘I am merely acting on the emperor’s orders, Councillor. He said unharmed. He also said now.’
‘I am ready,’ I said, stepping forward.
The newcomer looked at me, and a frown flickered in that gaze. It was a handsome face I could see in the torchlight. He looked young, but there was an air of authority about him that made it hard to tell.
He gestured for me to go ahead and I did so, striding across the slippery floor with as much pride as I could muster. I hoped they might lock the councillor and his man in the Pit behind me, but it was not to be.
A contingent of guards met us at the top of the ladder. They stared at me, and lifting my chin I tried to appear unconscious of their searching gazes. They all nodded to the man who had been my saviour, falling in behind him as he led the way up the stairs and into the palace.
With his services no longer required, Praetor disappeared. I was glad to see him go, but the disgusting councillor remained all too close.
‘What has occurred to cause so sudden a summons, General?’ the councillor asked, quickening his pace to walk beside the man.
General? That explained the crimson and gold surcoat. No mere soldier, my handsome saviour.
‘You will have to ask him that yourself, Councillor,’ the general returned, his disapproval patent. ‘I am not in His Majesty’s confidence.’
The palace was empty. There was none of the bustle, none of the staring and whispering that had accompanied my journey to the Pit. It was silent. Dead.
I hugged my torn clothes closer. I had been too relieved to question the motive for my release, but now every step was touched with trepidation. Had I Darius to thank? Or, did Kin just wish to see me suffer in person?
From the outer palace we entered the gardens. A colonnade led to the inner palace, its stone floor flayed with sunlight. It was surreal. I had last seen the gardens lashed with rain, and the bright summer day made me blink.
The inner palace looked different in the daylight, too. The rainchains were silent and the lanterns unlit, the grand space still but for the echo of our steps. My saviour strode on. He did not halt nor look back, and my stomach churned. There was no sign of Shin in the vast space, and almost I could wish myself back in the Pit.
Stairs rose from one level to the next, the round landings of the inner palace entirely lifeless. Dust danced in the air and the shuffle of our footsteps was all the sound that broke the silence. Another flight of stairs and then another, until a pair of enormous black doors blocked our path. Engraved with a thousand lines of Old Kisian, the pattern was so fine it seemed to shift before my eyes. Katashi had described them to me one night when his mood had turned to melancholy reminiscence.
The Crimson Throne.
I had long dreamed of the moment I would set eyes upon my birthright, but in no dream had I been a prisoner, a captive rebel in my own
empire.
A man was waiting. He exchanged nods with the general, and soundlessly stepped forward to open the doors. A terrible creak broke the silence; the silence of a dozen men holding their breath.
I could not turn back now. Discoloured light touched my filth-smeared feet. At the far end of the hall, windows of red glass lent the room a crimson hue. It stained the hangings, the guards, the pair of carved dragons and even the air itself. Only the black wooden floor survived its taint, a road to follow to whatever end.
My family’s throne stood upon a dais at the far end of the hall, a grand construction of lacquered wood rising in half-moon curls toward the roof. It had once belonged to my father, but I had no memory of him sitting upon it, no memory of him at all. Kin sat upon it now, his long red and gold robes melding into the lacquer as though they had long since become one.
Halfway to the throne the general and the councillor knelt to bow. I stayed back, looking around the sea of impassive guards. Darius was there. He stood to one side, watching the scene in an oddly detached way.
‘Rise,’ the emperor ordered, and both the general and the councillor got to their feet. Darius came slowly across the floor.
‘Your surcoat, General,’ Darius said, holding out his hand.
‘Excellency?’
‘Your surcoat,’ Darius repeated. ‘Give it to me.’
After a slight hesitation, the general slid the crimson silk from his shoulders and hung it over Darius’s hand.
Darius uttered no thanks, just came and threw it around me. The silk was warm and soft; smelling of leather, its large panels overlapped across my narrow chest.
Darius stepped back, and glancing at the councillor through half-lidded eyes, he said: ‘I think the only daughter of Emperor Lan Otako deserves not to be so humiliated, don’t you, Councillor?’
The air thinned to a wisp. I could barely breathe, his words like a punch to my gut. All my life Darius had warned me not to tell anyone the truth, knowing to utter my name would be a death sentence.
The general stared and Emperor Kin sat forward, his eyes devouring me. I gripped the surcoat tighter and stared back, more aware than ever of the filth crusting my cheek.
‘What?’ the councillor barked, finding his voice at last. ‘What did you say, Laroth?’
‘I take it you’ve met Lady Hana Otako, Councillor,’ Darius said, indicating me. ‘I hope you treated her with the respect her birth deserves.’
Tension zipped through the room. Every breath came short and sharp.
Councillor Ahmet stepped forward. ‘Are you mad, Laroth?’ he demanded. ‘This is the rebel leader, Regent. A girl as we have discovered, yes, but no lady of royal blood.’
Knowing how I looked I could almost believe him.
‘I assure you that she is.’
‘And how can you be so sure?’ The councillor spoke sweetly, in the tone I had come to hate.
‘I am sure it was you yourself who remarked upon the colour of Regent’s hair last night,’ Darius said, not at all perturbed. ‘It was insightful. I thought little of it at the time, but since the last three Otako emperors all married Chiltaen women, golden hair has become synonymous with the name. Golden hair and bright blue eyes.’
The councillor took three steps toward me and peered into my face. I stood my ground, but turned my gaze aside. ‘Her eyes are brown.’
‘Quibbling, Councillor. Allow me to finish.’
Kin sat silent, no more a part of the proceedings than if he had been watching a play.
‘No doubt you have heard the rumour that not all the Otako graves contain bodies,’ Darius continued. ‘Rumours often contain some degree of truth, as the grave keeper informed me this very day. I assume he would forward you the same information should you ask him.’
‘Empty graves and golden hair?’ Councillor Ahmet spread his hands. ‘On the basis of this, any Chiltaen brat could claim the name.’
‘Enough.’
The word shocked through the hall and all eyes turned to Emperor Kin, his face marred by a heavy scowl. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, his words sounding deliberately calm, ‘the best course of action would be to ask her.’ His sharp eyes turned to me. ‘Tell us, are you Lady Hana Otako?’
I felt myself shrink beneath the collective gaze, only the general’s surcoat between me and my shame. But I was an Otako. This was my empire.
‘Yes,’ I said, drawing myself up. ‘My name is Hana Aura Otako, Princess of Kisia. My father was Emperor Lan Otako, my mother Empress Li. I had four brothers – Prince Yarri, Prince Tanaka, Prince Rikk and Prince Takehiko Otako. My uncle was executed, my cousins exiled, and here I stand ready for you to kill me, too.’
No one spoke. At any moment the blow would fall. Kin would order my immediate execution and no one would dare argue. No one beyond this room would even know.
‘Chancellor,’ Kin said, his low voice breaking the fragile silence. ‘Have a room prepared for Lady Hana and be sure she has everything she desires. Send for Master Kenji to attend her wounds.’ He jerked his head toward the divan at his side. ‘Darius, we need to talk.’
Darius. The way he spoke to him was so informal.
A firm hand took my arm, but I could not drag my eyes from the scene. This man had once been my guardian, and now he went to Kin as though they were the best and oldest of friends.
Malice had been right.
‘This way, my lady.’
Giving in to the insistence of the hand, I allowed myself to be guided from the room. I walked, but I could barely feel my feet moving, could barely see the palace through the numb haze.
The doors creaked closed. Clutching the general’s surcoat close, I glanced up at the man leading me away. A lidless eye stared back, bisected by a long, ragged scar.
Chapter 10
I had climbed onto the knife-edge and could feel the blade slicing deep into the soles of my feet. I had as good as laid my head on the executioner’s block for her, and Ahmet would do anything to see it stay there.
It was plain the councillor was struggling. He wanted to argue, but Kin had acknowledged Hana and there was no going back. It had not been difficult. My father had often said the resemblance was remarkable to anyone who had been acquainted with Empress Li.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea, Your Majesty?’ Ahmet said when he found his tongue. He would tread no closer to outright criticism, but one glance at Hana had been enough to see what had been happening in the Pit.
‘And what would you have me do, Councillor?’ Kin asked. ‘Ignore the obvious resemblance and secretly see her grave filled?’
‘If she is Hana Otako then she is a threat to your throne!’
Kin’s lips were a thin line. He turned to me. ‘Darius?’
‘With all due respect, Councillor,’ I said. ‘Katashi Otako is the greatest threat to our emperor’s throne. Lady Hana Otako is a woman. She is not a threat. She is an asset.’
Kin was listening. With bloodied nails, I was clawing myself back from the precipice of his distrust. But all too soon he would ask the question. How had I known? How had I recognised her when no other had? I had never met Empress Li nor known her father as Kin had done.
‘An asset?’ Ahmet crossed his arms and glared up at me. ‘In what way, might I ask? Do you seek to bargain with Otako? Exchange him his cousin for the Hian Crown?’
‘Katashi will not bargain,’ Kin said. ‘Everything he has done so far proves he is as proud as his father.’
‘Then she has no worth! If you keep her alive, Majesty, she may marshal your enemies.’
‘No worth, Councillor?’ I interrupted, hating the sight of him all the more. It had taken great willpower to keep from hitting him, seeing how Hana had suffered. ‘I think you are forgetting of what use women are.’ I turned again to Kin, who was still watching me, waiting, and I had to wonder whether my solution ha
d already occurred to him.
‘Marry her, Majesty,’ I said. ‘That would give you the stability you crave, and no matter what Katashi does you will have the greater claim. He won’t be able to so much as shake the empire beneath your feet.’
‘Marry her?’ Ahmet looked horrified. ‘A rebel boy from the Pit?’
One could almost feel sorry for him, so contemptuous was the look Kin shot him, but I had scores to settle. It was time to help him dig his hole.
‘Councillor,’ I said. ‘You appear to be forgetting that she is not a boy at all, and was only in the Pit, only dirty and disgraced, because of us.’
‘You have a great interest in the lady, Laroth.’
‘I have an interest in serving Kisia.’
‘As do we all, but I must admit surprise that you were able to recognise her, you who would have no memory of any living Otako with which to liken her. How very often it seems you are privy to information the rest of us struggle to discover.’
I dared not look at Kin. ‘I have eyes,’ I said. ‘And unlike others, I use them, Councillor.’
‘I should not doubt you, of course,’ Ahmet said. ‘You are known to be perceptive. Your loyalty too, is unquestionable. You would certainly have informed us had you prior knowledge of the girl’s existence the instant you even had a suspicion.’
‘That is the event you have just witnessed.’
Kin still said nothing, just sat watching us throw the gauntlet back and forth. I knew what Ahmet was accusing me of—his claims thinly veiled—but it didn’t matter what he believed. Kin was the one I had to persuade. He was the one who could order my execution, the one whose moment of temper could change everything.
‘As I recall, your father was just such a dedicated man,’ Ahmet said, his flushed cheeks showing his enjoyment of the sport. ‘He was the Imperial Protector for some years. Very close to the Otako family.’
‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘But do recall, Councillor, that he resigned his position three years before the unfortunate death of Emperor Lan, and that he was nearly executed himself for refusing to serve Emperor Tianto.’