by Mike Grinti
“I am Azi of the Kayet, king of the Five-and-One,” he said, not too loudly. “Is your village nearby? Are there others hiding here? We have a little bit of food and plenty of water.”
One of the men stepped forward. Seeing him standing tall, Azi thought there was something familiar about him. And his clothes, torn and dirty as they were, had been fine once.
“We’ve met, my king, though I don’t blame you for not recognizing me,” the man said. “I am Lord Orad, head of the Gana family. I admit, I didn’t expect you to come. We didn’t think anyone would come.”
“We tried to take back the manor,” Azi said, “but there were too many of them. I’ve sent word to the Bardo. Lord Mosi will send ships. We’ve been trying to hurt them where we can in the meantime.” He hesitated. “Lord Orad, what about your grayships? I haven’t seen them on the beach.”
“Burned,” Lord Orad said. “All burned.”
“I’m sorry,” Azi said. But he felt more relief than sympathy. If the invaders had somehow stolen grayships, they could use them to lead another fleet to the Five-and-One, this time without the added danger of sorcery. All they’d have to do is follow the grayship home.
“Where are the rest of your people?” Azi asked.
“Burned as well, more than likely,” Orad said grimly. “We’ve seen nothing of them.”
But that turned out to be wrong. After taking Orad and his family back to the ships, they resumed their search and soon found other survivors. Whole villages had taken to the jungle to find food, hide from the invaders, and even kill them where they could. Many of the sailors had died, so it was up to fishermen and merchants and children to do what they could with nets and fishing spears and whatever weapons they could find.
At first Azi gave them weapons when they found any, food if they had any to spare, whatever water they had. They stole any fishing boats they could find and set the fishermen fishing night and day, trying to feed the survivors. But they were running out of food, of sleep, and especially of hope.
But how could Azi sleep? Every hour he did nothing was another village burned, another Gana murdered somewhere on the island.
If only we could take the manor. They’d have no food themselves, they’d have nowhere to hide. The thought ran through Azi’s mind as he made his way between trees, listening carefully in case anyone was following him. He’d lost count of how many times he’d landed a force on the island, but each time he wondered if this was the time that would kill him.
But no, again he was lucky. The trees ended ahead of him, and he’d managed not to get himself lost. There was a cove here, nearly hidden in the side of an overhanging cliff. One of the Gana doctors had shown them the place, and they’d taken to using it as a convenient place to land when a better location wasn’t available. He climbed down a ladder someone had hastily woven out of vines and hoped that both his injured arm and the ladder held until he reached the bottom.
As he stepped out onto a narrow ledge and prepared to duck into the cove, something caught Azi’s eye: another grayship sat out on the water, and it wasn’t one of his. Every family had their own distinct way of growing grayships, so you could always tell one family’s ship from another if you knew what to look for.
It was a Bardo ship. Help had finally arrived.
Azi found Lord Mosi speaking quietly with Lord Orad and a few of the surviving Gana captains.
Mosi rose and smiled when Azi entered. “Ah, my king. I’m glad you’re safe.”
He held out his arm, and Azi clasped it firmly. “Thank you for coming, my lord, though we could have used you sooner.”
“We weren’t ready to sail, I’m afraid, and when we did the storms hit us hard. But we’re here now and ready to do whatever we can. Lord Orad has already filled me in on your fight here.”
Orad nodded. “Mosi’s brought the entire Bardo fleet, and he says there are barges on the way with food and fishing nets and more men to help my people rebuild.”
Azi hadn’t thought to ask for food and supplies. His focus had been on how to get rid of the invaders, apparently at the expense of everything else. That was fine for his captains, but as the king, he shouldn’t have let himself be blinded by battle. His lack of experience could have cost more lives if they’d all starved. Azi was grateful for Lord Mosi’s foresight.
“Most of the mainlanders are hiding in the manor,” Azi said. “They have enough food to last them for months. But with your fleet we should be able to drive them out and finish this.”
“The manor is old,” Orad said. “It’s built to be defended.”
Lord Mosi grinned. “I don’t think my king intends to retake the manor. Do you?”
“No,” Azi said. “We burn it.”
It took several hours for everything to be ready. While the Bardo waited for nightfall, Azi waited for his own people to return. Then, since only one grayship could fit inside the cove, the Kayet soldiers had to be ferried back to their own ships. Azi made sure everyone ate and slept while they waited, though he himself ignored the advice until Doctor Abeo threatened him.
“You need rest, and your arm needs to heal,” the Gana doctor said. “You shouldn’t be fighting at all. You’d think you’d remember the way your brother died. But if you insist on swinging a sword, you must at least try to sleep. And no mournroot. You need real sleep, though I’ll drug you if I have to.”
The ship ferried Azi to Lord Mosi’s ship, where he slept fitfully, distracted by the pain in his arm and the knot of fear in his belly.
When Azi woke, the sky was dark. Only a thin sliver of moon shone weakly through the clouds. Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain.
Lord Mosi stood nearby, stretching his arms and back. Somehow he managed to make the simple motions look graceful and strong. Azi remembered the wind-dance on the Second Isle. He hoped the man was as good with a blade.
Mosi glanced back at Azi and saw that he was awake. He flashed a smile. “It seems that the older I get, the more warning my body needs before I can dance. Remember that when you’re older, eh? It’s almost time now. You’re sure you want to go with us? There’s still time to take you to one of your ships.”
Even with food and a short rest, the Kayet were tired, many of them wounded. They would attack as a second wave after the Bardo, all of them except Azi. He shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. I need to be up front, not hiding on the water while braver men die.” He smiled. “Jala knows that. She was there on the beach when the dead ships landed on the First Isle.”
Mosi cocked an eyebrow at him but said nothing more. The grayships floated gently, out of sight of the manor. The wind was good today. With full sails they could land in front of the manor in minutes. They just waited for the signal. Two Gana fishermen took two barrels of oil in an old rowboat. Once they landed on the beach, they were to roll it up to the manor walls, set them ablaze, and run.
A plume of orange and red flame suddenly rose up into the sky, shaking the trees, and then it was gone. A moment later Azi heard a roar like distant waves and felt a wash of warm air rush over his face. Thick gray smoke billowed up into the sky, and he could just make out the flicker of firelight between the trees. The Gana manor was on fire.
Immediately the sails were raised, and with a jerk the grayship sped toward the beach. Wind whipped at Azi’s face. The island was a shadow among shadows, and as they sped closer the fire only made it harder to see anything else. This time, at least, they let the sails go slack and dropped ores to slow the ship before beaching it. But even then the impact came as a shock.
Azi followed Lord Mosi off the ship, his sword ready, visions of their first landing flashing in his head. But this time there was no one else there. The beach was empty. They walked slowly toward the manor. The exploding barrels had splashed the walls with oil. The fire had spread all the way to the roof now, and the wet wood smoked horribly. Anyone inside would be just as likely to die from smoke as from the fire.
“Where are they?” Azi asked. �
�Why aren’t they coming out?” Maybe it was empty and he’d burned it down for nothing. Could the invaders have known somehow and fled into the forest? But then he saw someone moving in one of the windows. He tightened his grip on his sword.
Men suddenly rushed through the front door, running through the flames with their swords held high. Their skin glistened with oil. They were soaked in it, and when the fire touched them they burst into flame. They screamed. And they kept on coming.
The flames rising from their faces looked like grinning masks as they ran through the Bardo and the Kayet, slashing with their red-hot swords, flicking burning oil from their arms as they swung. Screaming, always screaming, they threw themselves bodily on Bardo swords only to grab hold of their killers with burning hands.
The air reeked of oil, and burning hair, and burnt meat.
Azi fought just to stay out of their reach. Everyone was running, shoving, trying to get away from the madness around them. Azi stumbled and fell to one knee. Something hit him from behind, and he was knocked face-first into the sand. He pushed himself up just as another burning man ran past him.
The man stopped. Azi stayed still, afraid to move. The sounds around him had grown muffled, and his heartbeat was too loud in his ears, urging him to run, run, run. The man opened his mouth wide and then collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. Azi watched in horror as the man rolled on the sand, his skin charring off his face, his fat and muscles melting.
Azi pushed himself up. All around, the invaders were falling, burning away on the sand until only the flames still moved, dancing in the wind. The air was filled with smoke. We’ve won, Azi thought, coughing. But he wasn’t sure what they’d won. His head spun, and he couldn’t seem to focus his eyes. He sat down on the sand again, just for a minute, and then he passed out.
He woke to bright sunlight in his eyes and a splitting headache. Somewhere nearby people were talking, sometimes shouting. Someone put a wet cloth on his head. The water felt so cool he couldn’t help sighing. Azi closed his eyes for a moment, then forced them open again.
“Good morning, my king,” Doctor Abeo said. “You were hit on the head during the fight. Good thing it was only the flat of the sword, eh? Can you walk?”
“I can try,” Azi said. He fell twice but managed to stay upright on the third attempt. He looked around. A grayship bobbed on the waves nearby, its load so heavy that it rode low on the water. Two more grayships waited farther out while sailors pulled the first ship ashore.
The bodies had been cleared from the beach, he was glad to see. A team of Bardo sailors dug through the burned ruins of the manor, searching for anything useful that might have survived the fire.
The burned grayships were being removed too, he noticed. The one he’d lost was there, but also the hulks of many Gana ships. All of them, Lord Orad had said. Azi couldn’t imagine what it had taken to order all the ships destroyed. Without them, the Gana were no longer a real family.
“Lord Mosi is here,” Doctor Abeo said from behind Azi. “He’s been quite anxious for your recovery.”
Azi looked up to see Mosi standing behind the doctor. “I wouldn’t think those barges could travel so quickly with such a heavy load, my lord.”
“They came as quickly as they could, my king,” Lord Mosi said. “But not that quickly. You’ve been asleep for a day. Doctor Abeo told us to let you rest.”
Azi started. “It feels like only a moment ago.” He rubbed the back of his head and flinched. “Have you sent any birds to Jala or Inas? They should know what’s happened here.”
Lord Mosi nodded. “Of course. But I think that as soon as you’re ready, you should go back to your island and rule, my king. I believe Lord Orad is going with you. Difficult decisions will have to be made soon. I’ll stay and help our cousins rebuild. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
What’re you planning? Azi thought as they took hold of each other’s arms and said good-bye. He sighed. Mountain’s piss, I’m starting to sound like my uncle. It bothered him that so many Bardo had come to help rebuild, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on why.
“If my king is feeling better, I will go tend to my other patients,” Doctor Abeo said.
Azi nodded. “Please tell someone to find Captain Darri for me. We’re going home.”
Jala walked down to the beach as she had done the last few days. She kicked off her shoes, waded ankle-deep into the cool water, and dug her toes into the sand. She let herself relax, her eyes wandering over the water. A bird had come from her father to let her know that the Kayet fleet was returning, with Azi safely aboard.
Her father had said more news would follow, hinting that something important was going to happen. Well, you’ll find out soon, and then you’ll probably wish you didn’t know.
She was just grateful Azi was alive, though he was taking his time getting back. She spent too much time here, watching and waiting for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to stay away. When he came back, she’d be here waiting for him.
There’d been rumors of fire rising from the Fifth Isle, but nobody knew what that meant. She wondered if he’d stood on the beach waiting for her to return from the Lone Isle. Or if he’d just gone off to spend time with Kona, whoever she was. If she was real. If he still cared about her.
She wanted to spend all day here, but she had responsibilities she couldn’t put off forever. It was time to go. Jala started to turn around, but something on the horizon caught her eye. She put a hand on her forehead to block out the sun. Gray sails against a strip of blue sky.
Azi’s fleet. It had to be.
Jala stayed on the beach, watching and waiting until she could make out the red streaks on the ships’ sails. By then, a small crowd had gathered around her. Boys and retired sailors loitered about in case the crews needed help pulling the ships ashore. A woman holding an armful of medical supplies barked orders, preparing to treat any injuries.
Finally the first ship’s bow hit sand. Sailors jumped over the side and pushed the ship onto the beach. Jala scanned the deck looking for Azi. She finally spotted him standing next to a tall man she didn’t recognize.
As soon as he disembarked, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. Even though she’d been expecting him any day, the suddenness of seeing him alive and well made her heart race.
“You’re not dead,” she whispered, and she pressed her face against his bare shoulder. He was damp from spray and smelled of smoke and sweat. She didn’t mind. If he smelled, he was alive. Not knowing what else to say, she kissed him. His kiss was hungry, almost desperate, and they held each other close until she was almost out of breath.
Definitely still alive.
Azi broke off the kiss with a reluctant smile. Jala almost objected, but then she remembered they had an audience. A rather large audience, in fact. Her face flushed with heat as she realized a crowd of people watched them with a mixture of raised eyebrows and amusement.
“Jala. My queen.” Azi’s voice was heavy with weariness. His left arm was bandaged, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Azi gestured to the man beside him. “This is Lord Orad of the Gana. He’s the head of the Gana family.”
Orad was older than Azi by at least ten years, with angry red burns on his face and chest. When he saw her he straightened his hunched shoulders and bowed stiffly. When he spoke, it was obvious that it took effort just to keep his voice steady. “My queen. Thank you for allowing me and my family . . . what’s left of my family . . . to reside here.”
“Your family is welcome, of course,” she said, glancing at Azi. Her father’s message hadn’t mentioned this. She wondered what else had been left out.
“The Gana are no more,” Azi said. Orad winced. “The invaders’ ships landed on the Fifth Isle with all the men inside still alive. They took the manor and killed most of the family.”
“We barely had time to burn our ships,” Orad said softly.
Then they really were a dead family. It was one of her bigge
st fears, and he was living it. “The worst storms are often followed by the clearest skies,” she said, hoping the words didn’t sound as empty to him as they did to her. “You did what you had to do, and all of the other families will honor you for it.”
Orad lowered his eyes, and she looked away as well, leaving him to his grief.
By now most of the other grayships had landed and were in the process of being pushed ashore. The wounded were helped or carried off the boats. As the sailors were greeted by friends and family, a murmur grew among those gathered on the beach.
A small knot of men and women now stood behind Orad. Jala nodded toward them. “Your family, my lord?”
“My brother’s family,” Orad said. “And some of my cousins. My wife . . .” He shook his head. “Please, forgive me. We’re all very tired.”
Jala wasn’t interested in how tired Orad felt just then. She wanted to know what had happened. But right now Azi needed her to play the royal hostess. “I understand. If you and your family will come with me to the manor, you’ll be well cared for.”
Orad waved his family over, and they followed her into the house. Once inside, Azi whispered, “We’ll talk soon,” then pulled away from the group, heading for the Kayet wing.
Jala led the Gana to the guest wing. “We have no other noble guests right now, so you may each have rooms to yourself, if you like. I’ll send someone to see to your needs.”
One of the women stepped forward. “Would you please have someone tell Lady Chahaya that we’ve arrived?”
But Azi’s mother was already waiting for them. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out to meet you. It’s so good to see you again, Panya.” Chahaya walked up to one of the women and embraced her, holding her tight for several seconds before hugging the others just as fiercely. Her eyes were red, and Jala wondered if she’d been crying. “Is it true, then? We’re all that’s left of our family?”