The Wolf of Oren-yaro

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The Wolf of Oren-yaro Page 8

by K. S. Villoso


  “We don’t even know who’s paying for this meal,” I said, glaring at Osga. I made the mental note never to learn her real name. “Because I won’t.”

  “We can afford our own meals, Magister Arro,” Rai said. “I take it this venue was chosen for a reason?”

  “Maybe it’s the only one that serves infants and kittens,” I said. I flashed both Osga and Zheshan a smile. I liked smiles. In my world, they could mean anything: a hidden joke to a friend, a threat to an enemy. There are songs written about my smiles and what usually comes after them.

  Those were, of course, the kinds of things Rai never understood. He didn’t use to think twice, for example, of showing up to council dressed in the same robe he slept in. It used to drive me mad trying to explain why this was inappropriate behaviour. He didn’t at all understand that people judged him for how he looked. Even worse, he didn’t understand that people judged me for how he looked. I wondered what he really hoped to accomplish out of this meeting. Did he really think I would agree to a divided Jin-Sayeng? Had he forgotten whose daughter I was?

  The manager of the establishment arrived with the menu. “Our apologies,” he said, throwing me a wary glance. “We are short on some of the items. It’s been a busy night. We do not mean to offend.”

  “They’re frightened of you already,” Rai commented dryly.

  “Feed us well and you may keep your head,” I told him. The man looked up at me and tried to smile, which his face seemed to have difficulties with.

  “Our special for today is pork bone stew,” the manager said.

  “Pork bone stew sounds excellent,” I said. “Rayyel could use a spine.”

  “Is heartless shrew on the menu?” Rai asked without batting an eye.

  I laughed. The manager looked even more nervous than when he came in. He tried to clear his throat and looked at the ceiling. “We ah, also have sweet beef with green beans, and steamed fish in banana leaves with a ginger sauce. I highly recommend the fish—it’s freshly caught from the crystal-clear canals of Anzhao City just this morning.”

  “I’ll have the fish,” I said, glancing through the menu. I caught a scribbling that meant fowl of some sort—I couldn’t read the subtleties of Zirano script as well as I thought—and ordered that as well. Arro wanted noodles with goat tripe, eggplant stew, and chopped pig snout, which they had deep-fried and seasoned with onions, soy sauce, and vinegar in pale imitation of a Jinsein dish. Governor Zheshan picked the roasted pork, The Silver Goose’s specialty. I didn’t pay attention to what Osga ordered. Oats or air, I don’t know. Were priestesses even allowed to eat?

  They returned with more wine for us. I sipped, taking the time to look at Rai through half-lidded eyes. It hit me what was bothering me about him—he had taken the time to tie his beard and comb his hair before this meeting. He was also wearing very elaborate clothes: a black, silken shirt, embroidered with gold thread at the seams, under a well-cut grey tunic. He had been silent for years and then all of a sudden decides he wanted to claim his part in Jin-Sayeng after all? And then he fixes his hair? Was horse-face to blame? I didn’t know what to make of it. This was what my father had warned me about ruling all those years ago: you can’t rely on things to remain the same way. You always have to be ready for change, to adjust the sails as the wind comes.

  Rai, Akaterru bless him, had not had the education that I did when it came to ruling. He grew up in the mountains, raised by Kibouri monks or hermits or somesuch, and did not set foot in Shirrokaru until he was fourteen. He could’ve been raised by badgers for all I knew. He exemplified all the traits the Kibouri religion praised: humility, subservience, compassion. I had never known him to have ambition. Where was he now getting the nerve to challenge me, and all groomed and perfumed, too? I glanced at Zheshan. Qun had claimed they had only just met days ago, but I suddenly found that hard to believe.

  I realized that everyone had gone damnably quiet after the manager had left. It was all very disconcerting. “So,” I said, drumming my fingers along the surface of the table. I had purposely spoken in Jinan to prevent Zheshan from interrupting. “Seeing anyone?”

  Arro choked on his tea while Osga pretended to look at the ceiling. Rai coloured. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he snapped.

  “No, it’s not,” I agreed. “But it might be fun to talk about while we wait.” I stared at him, giving him my coldest smile. I saw him swallow.

  “My queen, now is not the time,” Arro murmured.

  I waved him off. “Old men,” I said casually. “Such prudes.”

  Rai cleared his throat. “I’ll humour you,” he said, in a tone that was one part factual and two parts loathing. “There was someone. A Zarojo lady.” I caught onto his emphasis of the lady, although he himself did not seem aware of it.

  “A Zarojo,” I repeated. “So you have been hiding out here all these years.”

  “I went around. I did not see the prudence in staying in Jin-Sayeng when you have the Oren-yaro sniffing after me like angry dogs. Why do you care what I do, anyway?”

  “You personally? I don’t, to be honest. Go, be one with the whales if you want. I wouldn’t have come here for your sake alone, except it’s clear what you’re doing here. Have you gone insane? The last time the Zarojo got involved in our politics, it didn’t end too well for everyone. Honestly, Rayyel, it’s like you don’t study history.”

  Rai’s face remained blank despite my insults. “I’ve studied it more than you. It is generally agreed upon that it was the Oren-yaro’s insistence at insulting the Zarojo court that resulted in those troubles. Feel free to consult a history book if you disagree with me.”

  “I think I see our food,” Arro croaked out.

  I rubbed my temples. “Does your woman appreciate such droll bed-talk?”

  “Does your new man appreciate the sarcasm?”

  “Which one? I’ve got a number. That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

  “Are any of them the true heir to the Dragonthrone?”

  “No. I never needed one to rule.”

  “It is our food! Oh, thank Sakku.” Arro looked like he was on the verge of convulsions. I smiled thinly, a gesture that Rai did not return, and drew back as they placed steaming plates on our table. I momentarily forgot my irritation at the sight of food. It had been a long night.

  The meal was divine. I remember what Khine said about the pork, which did fall off the bone, revealing a crispy exterior that leaked fat as soon as you bit into it. The flavour was very strong, a mixture of hot peppers and sweet sauce with a hint of lemongrass. I was quite taken aback. A number of restaurants specializing in Zarojo cuisine had popped up in Jin-Sayeng over the years, but they never could get Zarojo cuisine quite right: something to do with the availability of spices, which was made more difficult by the trade embargo Dragonlord Reshiro created against the Zarojo Empire. I was glad that I had taken the time to learn how to use chopsticks properly. The traditional way of eating with one’s fingers in Jin-Sayeng, while perfectly acceptable even for royals, was often seen as primitive elsewhere.

  I didn’t say anything during the meal. I didn’t want Rai to get into the history of spoons in Jin-Sayeng. I wondered if the restaurant would divulge the recipe for the noodles and tripe. Under threat of losing their heads, maybe. The manager came by to check on us, and I smiled and complimented our meal. Rai looked at me quizzically. I wondered what he was thinking. Was civilized behaviour really so beneath me?

  I also wondered about his admission to having a Zarojo woman. Rai was not normally the sort who would say things to get a reaction out of me, so chances were good that what he said was true. But why would he say it at all? “Was,” I said, realizing only too late that I said it aloud.

  Rai glanced at me, perplexed.

  “Your woman. You said was.”

  “As I said—it is none of your business.”

  “Isn’t it? We are still married, are we not? Do these words not mean anything anymore?�
��

  Rai’s face tightened. “I did not realize you would want to go down this road. This is not an argument I want to have right now.”

  “It seems like it is an argument you would rather we never have at all.” I sighed, pulling back to allow the servants to take the plates away, and gestured at the map. “We have made quite a leap from a misunderstanding to dividing the land five years later with brush strokes. I believe you were better educated on the laws and principles of ruling better than that.”

  “That was how you saw that?” he asked. “A misunderstanding?”

  “You never gave me the chance to explain myself,” I said.

  “And if I had?”

  “I would have told you that I cared enough about my land and my people to see this through. I came all the way out here, didn’t I?”

  He picked up his tea and looked away from me while he sipped.

  “Let’s return to the subject at hand,” Zheshan spoke up. “I believe the queen and my lord have both come to terms with each other?”

  I laughed. “Not even close.”

  Rai grunted. He placed his wine bowl back on the table. I caught a flicker of unease on his face. “My lord,” I said, deciding to dig at it. “Think this through. The warlords will not like the idea of a division.”

  “Do you truly know what your warlords think, Queen Talyien?” he asked.

  “I’ve spent more time at court than you have. I don’t think you understand what you’re saying. Jin-Sayeng isn’t…it isn’t ours to divide. We were tasked to rule, jointly—”

  “Which we will.”

  “But not like this! If an announcement like this doesn’t create civil war in the first hour, it certainly will by the end of the year. The warlords will never agree to it.”

  Zheshan cleared his throat and tapped a pile of papers on his side. “They will, if you care to peruse the details with them. We have it all laid out here. It is a truly remarkable arrangement: you will be allowed to keep your ancestral lands and remain queen to those who have supported you, while ceding your right to oversee the warlords who have historically been more vocal against Oren-yaro rule.”

  “And how would you know which is which, foreigner? What dusty tome did you get your information from? Something you inherited from your grandmother, no doubt.” I pointed at the map. “You have Bara marked for the Ikessars. I don’t even know where to begin to explain the absurdity of this. Can I please watch you tell Warlord Lushai he has to bend his knee to the Ikessars?”

  “You do not know Warlord Lushai as well as you think you do,” Rai remarked.

  “And you do, I suppose?” I asked. I didn’t wait for him to reply—instead, I burst out laughing. “Right. My apologies…I’ve forgotten exactly why you don’t want to talk about marriage and duties. Warlord Lushai—of course. He sheltered you the night you left Oren-yaro, didn’t you? Where else could you have gone? Yet we sent riders there that same afternoon, only to be told you weren’t there and that we were sorely mistaken if we think Bara would ever offer help to a wayward Ikessar lord. He feigned insult that we would even dare ask.” I sank into my chair.

  “If this tires you…” Rai began.

  I fixed him a glare. “Or is that your plan? To wear me out so that I would willingly step down and take the mantle of some holy order or another? I am not your mother, Rayyel.”

  “Do not bring her into this,” he murmured.

  “You all bring my father into everything I do and you don’t see me complain,” I replied. “Where does Yeshin end and Talyien begins? It’s never been an issue. Jin-Sayeng should take precedence over all our issues.” I turned to Rai and swallowed. “I know. I understand there are many. But this is the first time we have spoken in years. Can’t we begin with something that doesn’t threaten to throw our people into chaos?”

  “My lady,” he said, before falling silent. He had always been good at deflecting topics he would rather not discuss with silence. It was heartening to find out that it still infuriated me.

  I glanced at Governor Zheshan. “I haven’t even started on how uncomfortable it makes me that we are discussing such drastic measures in front of a Zarojo official.”

  “We have a pact with the Ikessars,” Zheshan said. “Lord Rayyel asked for assistance. We were only too happy to give it.”

  “Happy…” I nearly choked on the word. Deputy Qun had implied otherwise. The man’s prattling was starting to get on my nerves. I returned my gaze to Rai. “My lord,” I said, taking care to keep my voice as low as I could make it. “Come home with us. We will discuss a resolution properly, among our people, as we should.”

  He cast his eyes downward, as if he was suddenly afraid to look at me.

  “He will do no such thing,” Gon Zheshan broke in. “Likely you have assassins waiting for him as soon as he steps on your shores.”

  “Stop filling his head with nonsense!” I barked. “I see what’s happening here. This is your doing, you bloated fart. Do you honestly think you can manipulate me as easily?”

  “Enough,” Rai snapped. “I will not have my advisers insulted.”

  “And this whole charade—you do not think it is an insult? To me, and to every warlord across these shores?” I got up. “I will not consider these ridiculous demands. I’m surprised you thought I would.”

  “How, pray, do you think the warlords will react when they learn that you had the chance to turn away the tides of war once and for all, and didn’t?”

  I curled my fingers against the edge of the table, resisting the urge to give in to my anger. “Is that a threat, my lord?” I asked. My eyes shifted towards Zheshan for a moment before returning to Rai. “You would declare war if I don’t accept this? You, Rayyel Ikessar? With what army?”

  “I only meant to imply that drastic actions may result from your refusal to heed all sense,” Rai said. “Or are you telling me that the warlords do not strain on their leashes, that they are not gathering their own armies every day that they bristle under Oren-yaro rule?”

  “They chose us!”

  “Exactly. Us. Not you. If you thought every warlord has been happy with the five years Jin-Sayeng has been under the rule of Yeshin’s bitch pup…”

  “Now the insults start,” I hissed.

  “I am quoting,” he said. “You need to stop taking things personally.”

  “I need a breath of fresh air.” I stepped away, to Arro’s protest, and stalked down the hall and through the main restaurant, which was quieter than when I first came in. Nor moved to stop me, but I ordered her to leave me alone. I kept walking.

  ~~~

  I found myself outside the restaurant. The streets were empty now. A light blanket of rain had covered everything in a grey sheen. Exhaustion seized me. I stepped under the roof eaves for shelter, placed the back of my head against the wall, and closed my eyes while I attempted to gather my thoughts.

  I heard footsteps. Thinking it was a guard, I ignored it. But then I heard the sound of his familiar breathing and turned to see Rai staring down at me.

  “What do you want?” I snapped.

  “This is not queenly, Talyien,” he said.

  “And what part of this is kingly, you think?” I asked. I gestured at him. “The demands, the insults? I came all the way out here to humour you. You can’t even give me the courtesy of acknowledging my attempts.”

  “I have given you plenty of courtesies. You’ll do well to see them.”

  I began to shiver from the cold, but I ignored it. I wiped rain from my face. “How have we come to this?”

  Rai took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “And this is what you truly want, is it? Not something that Gon Zheshan pressured you into?”

  “A divided Jin-Sayeng can still function as one. It is merely assigning the warlords under a ruler they can all agree with. From there, perhaps we can build and grow.”

  “The warlords will laugh at us.”

  “We are here to talk, not decide
on anything. This proposal can be presented to them upon your return to Jin-Sayeng. I was not willing to do it myself when I knew your first reaction would be to order your soldiers to arrest me. I figured if you could be made to see sense first, then the rest will fall into place a lot faster.”

  I closed my eyes. “It would be easier,” I said, “if you just came back with me. We haven’t even tried to rule jointly yet.”

  “Yet we have been married, and if we couldn’t even make that work…”

  “Because you walked away!”

  His eyes flashed. “Don’t put this on me, woman!”

  “You dare? You…” I resisted the urge to slap him. “Have you considered what this division will mean for Thanh? Or have you forgotten our son?”

  His face tightened. I felt my skin crawl when I realized he was purposely avoiding that subject, too. He had not, in five years, even asked about the boy. That, perhaps, was the most puzzling part for me out of all. The boy had been raised with both our clans’ tenets. He was a strong, thoughtful lad who was thoroughly devoted to his duties, as much as a seven-year-old could be. How could Rai find fault with him? Even if I wasn’t his mother, I would’ve sung him praises anyway. He had our strengths with none of our faults.

  “No,” I said. “This will not do. I will not have Thanh inherit our problems. Do not make me have Nor bring you back to Jin-Sayeng in chains. And I will give that order if you don’t step back from this madness.”

  The threat seemed to mean nothing to him. He turned his head, the rain dripping past his face. “After I left, you did not move to Shirrokaru,” he said.

  “You expected me to?”

  “We were supposed to rule from there. You knew that the last thing we needed was to remind the land that they fell under Oren-yaro rule after all. Instead, you left Shirrokaru with an empty throne room. Five years, and the Heart of Jin-Sayeng remains crumbling. Your father’s legacy persists.”

  “You have no right to scrutinize my actions,” I said. “Not after what you did. I had no reason to leave my father’s home without you. Did you expect me to live in a place where I’m surrounded by your clan’s supporters?”

 

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