Dances of Deception: A Legends of Tivara Story (The Dragon Songs Saga Book 3)

by JC Kang

  How many more such encounters could they survive? The others came into sight. The princess lagged behind, her shoulders drooped. She’d been too busy looking at her reflection, and hadn’t eaten while they were resting. He suppressed a growl.

  Yes, she was infuriating, but he could only blame himself for their predicament. The original escape plan had been his. So had several of the subsequent alternatives. All failed. His plans never failed. Perhaps it would’ve been better to fortify the embassy in Iksuvius while sending the Golden Phoenix back home to bring ships and musketmen. Maybe even ask for a real phoenix to fly the princess home.

  Certainly, things would have been different had he finished off the altivorc spy in Gaukaimos. Now Xu Zhan was dead, Li Wei missing. As he caught up to the others, he quickly wiped his eyes. For the time being, lamenting the past would do them no good.

  Kaiya trailed behind the others, though Chen Xin, who’d guarded her since she was a child, often slowed down to help her through the rough terrain. She’d always taken him for granted. She’d never truly appreciated the imperial guards’ dedication to her. Now, one had died to protect her, and another had probably shared the same fate. Even Tian would sacrifice his life for her, if for nothing more than pride. It wouldn’t make her feel any less guilty.

  And then, beyond her own people, there were the four others, who owed no allegiance to the Tianzi, yet assisted her to the detriment of their own quest. Tears blurred her vision. Maybe they’d all share the same fate as Li Wei and Xu Zhan. Heavens, she was pathetic.

  She had little time to cry before Tian caught up to her. Their eyes met, and Kaiya was surprised to see that his were red and swollen. Had he been crying, too? Maybe he was a human after all. She forced a smile at him, which he returned, equally forced.

  “Dian-xia. I just caught this in a stream.” He held up a miniature lobster, still squirming. “Please eat it. It will help your endurance.”

  Her stomach churned. Kaiya recoiled and covered her mouth.

  Tian scowled, all sense of propriety gone. He jabbed a finger in her direction. “The comforts that you have been asked to forfeit—your hair, a soft bed in a spacious room, the finest food prepared by imperial chefs—they are an inconvenience compared to the sacrifice that Brehane and her group have made. And nothing compared to the ultimate sacrifice that Xu Zhan and Li Wei made.”

  He was talking to her like a little girl. He’d never spoken to her like that, even when she had been a little girl. Kaiya raised her voice, loud enough that any altivorc within three li could’ve heard. “Zheng Tian, do you think I don’t understand this?”

  Up ahead, the others stopped. Chen Xin sighed and started heading back.

  Kaiya lowered her voice just a little. “I don’t mind discomfort, but I can’t handle narrow confines...and that’s your fault.” She pointed at him. She never pointed at anyone, as Hua custom considered it rude. Her voice shook, dropping to almost a whisper. “Ever since you locked me in our swordmaster’s armoire, years ago, I can’t think or even breathe in tight places.”

  Tian gawked, eyes wide, and then hung his head.

  Chen Xin rubbed his bald head thoughtfully.

  Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. She sank down, her back to a large boulder, and drew her head to her knees. Her voice wavered. “I don’t eat shellfish, not because of the taste, but because I’d be throwing up for hours. Even the smell of it brings on nausea. But as princess, I have to hide weakness.”

  Tian stared at the ground. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Brehane came back and offered Tian a reproachful glance before sitting down next to Kaiya and putting her arm around her.

  Tian bowed his head. “I am sorry.”

  Kaiya looked up from between her knees and smiled a bitter smile. “It is also my fault. I assumed I could confide in you like we did when we were children. But we aren’t children anymore.”

  An awkward silence ensued, broken only by the shrill voice of the madaeri. “I’m all for sentimentality, but we need to get moving again and cover more ground before sundown. I hear altivorc drums in the distance.”

  CHAPTER 33:

  First Consul No More

  Jie spent a week regaining her strength. She avoided physical exertion, instead disguising herself as a Nothori peasant child and mingling with Tian’s network of local spies. For once, looking like a kid came in handy.

  Learning of Chen Xin’s visit to the Kanin embassy, she surprised their ambassador with a midnight call. Ambassador Manuwaya, knowing of the roundup of Cathayi nationals, offered asylum to all of them, as long as they could be brought in without drawing suspicion. The old man also gave her the princess’ letter, where Jie learned about her escape into the Wilds—with Tian.

  Alone, stranded, and with no one to report to for the first time in her life, she made it her mission to rescue the princess’ handmaiden, Meiling. She didn’t doubt she could get into the Iksuvi Palace undetected, but getting out with an untrained and now traumatized girl would be another challenge altogether. She stalked General Marius, thinking he could be the key to her plan.

  Marius di Bovyan had the strangest habits for a Bovyan. Whereas most of them spent at least some of their time in the company of unwilling women, the general never visited his assigned mating compound at the Iksuvi Palace. He kept regular routines, though Jie would swear that he seemed almost sad these days.

  One late afternoon, she made her move.

  As Marius led a patrol through the marketplace, she joined in with a gaggle of street urchins and ran across the Bovyan column’s path. She stumbled, careening into the general and slipping a note into his boot. With a quick bob of her head, she sped away, ignoring the Teleri soldiers’ reprimands.

  That night, she returned to the eastern marketplace in hopes that he would accept her invitation to meet. Arriving early, Jie scouted out the area to ensure he hadn’t laid any traps for her. She found none, and hid in a weathered wooden stall which provided a full view of the area.

  Just as the iridescent moon waxed to its mid-crescent, exactly at the appointed time, Marius ventured in—alone, as far as she could tell. With the white moon near new, her elf vision gave her the advantage.

  Jie threw her voice to make it seem like a nearby goat had spoken. “General Marius, thank you for meeting me.”

  The general frowned as he approached the goat. “Miss Jie, I was intrigued by your letter. Why did you want to meet? I suspect it has nothing to do with two years ago.”

  That again. Before the invasion, he’d babbled something about how they’d shared some adventure in Arkos, but she’d assumed it was just the effect of the euphoria toxin she’d given him.

  As he walked by, she jumped onto the stall’s counter behind him. She yanked his hair back and stuck a knife point to his carotid artery. “Hands up and away from your sword. Slowly.”

  Marius lifted his arms at a safe speed. “This is not necessary. I came in good faith.”

  “I did not. Needless to say, I’m not too happy about my people being imprisoned and murdered.”

  “Miss Jie, your princess attacked the First Consul. What did you expect? That he would not exact justice?”

  Justice, eh? She pressed the knife into his neck, ever so slightly. “My princess knew his plans to kidnap her and acted in self-defense. Now, tell me, why is her handmaiden being held separately?”

  “This is how things have been for a hundred and thirty years, since the Bovyan Edict. The ruling class of the Bovyans—our Prospecti—mate with the ruling class of nations with which we ally and protect. The offspring become a bridge between our nations.”

  Occupied allies, rape as a bridge. Jie shuddered at Marius’ rationalization. She leaned in and whispered into his ear. “What you call mating, civilized people call gang-rape.”

  “It is necessary, lest our race die out. Even if you hate him, the First Consul works to end Tivar’s Curse so that our mates might bear mor
e children, both boys and girls. Until then, the prophecies state that a Bovyan who knows his true mother and father will bring an end to the Teleri Empire. We can’t let that happen. Without the order we bring, the world will plunge back into a darkness unseen since the Hellstorm.”

  More excuses. Jie scoffed. As for prophecies— thank the Heavens they did not govern her life. She released a little of the pressure on his throat. “I have noticed that you don’t participate. Why is that? Injury down there?”

  Marius sighed and eased himself into a seated position on the counter. He set his hands down on the edge. “Because I love someone. Someone I shouldn’t. By Solaris, we aren’t supposed to love anyone.”

  Heat flared in Jie’s cheeks. He liked her. Really liked her. Not like she was particularly interested in a Bovyan, reformed or not. If only she could see his face, to read his expression. She kept her guard up nonetheless. “I hope you do not mean me, because—”

  “No, no. I’ve always been fond of you.” Marius started to shake his head, but stopped, probably because of the knife point at his artery. “However, this one is really married. I tried to forget her by rekindling what we had.”

  Always second best. Jie sucked on her lower lip. Even if the only thing she’d want to rekindle was his head—ideally with another cache of firepowder—it was a blow to the ego. She pressed the blade a little harder into his neck. “Don’t bring up our past again.” Especially fictional pasts.

  “Of course.” Marius sighed again, wistfully. “Anyway, she is gone now, escaped like so many others.”

  “Did you force yourself on our handmaiden?”

  “No! No. After my love, I don’t think I could ever sleep with another, especially not through the Mating.”

  He sounded sincere enough. But trust a Bovyan? “Perhaps, then, you can fathom how much poor Meiling is suffering. I want you to help her escape.” She lowered the knife, ready to spring away if he tried to attack her.

  Marius spun around, hands behind his back, mouth agape. Jie tensed, but did not jump away. He did not make any move towards her, instead shaking his head. “I could never betray my people.”

  Jie snorted. “Then you are no better than any other Bovyan. If you don’t do the right thing, how can you expect your comrades to do the same when your own love is captured? ”

  “I...I...” His lips sagged into a frown, and his eyes shifted. Then he sighed. “Very well, I will help you.”

  Jie offered him a smile, even though he probably couldn’t be trusted. “In return, I’ll help your own love escape.”

  Marius shook his head yet again. His head would probably wobble off before the end of the night. “There’s no need. Your people have already helped her. She’s aboard the Cathayi flagship, already beyond the reach of our empire.”

  Now Jie gawked. The only married woman onboard the Golden Phoenix was Queen Ausra. She recovered from her surprise, composing her emotionless mask. “I want to initiate a rescue as soon as possible. When would be the best time?”

  “Tomorrow,” he answered. “When most of the Teleri will be at the Temple of Solaris.”

  If only she had a cache of firepowder. “Whatever for?”

  “The Keeper will coronate First Consul Geros as Emperor.”

  Geros stood at the entrance of the Temple of Solaris, ignoring the ceremonial blathering of the Keeper, who spoke platitudes in a long-dead language. On this day, he had forsaken his typical dress uniform in favor of a silk toga befitting of an ancient Arkothi emperor. He looked every bit the part in the Arkothi-style temple, whose ornate white marble columns supported a massive dome.

  In the center towered a gilded statue of the god, anointed with a crown of sun and bearing a striking resemblance to the First Consul. Holding a sword aloft, its right arm stretched out of its robe, revealing rippled muscle. Its other arm nestled a book: the Last Testament of the Founder.

  Geros fidgeted as the Keeper droned on. He remembered posing for the statue, basing it on an image his ancestor had sketched in the Last Testament. That had been ten years ago, when he had ordered the construction of the temple on this hill, razing the ramshackle hovel that had passed for the temple of the Nothori god Deivos.

  The Nothori folk insisted that he would be struck down by the god’s own hand for this transgression. He stifled a laugh, lest he taint the sanctity of the ceremony. Here he was, standing; just a little tired as he recovered from his closest brush with death—not by the wrath of a god, but at the sword point of a girl.

  With the exception of that minor setback, the schemes he’d set in motion that day had all unfolded as planned, leading to his well-deserved reward. He looked up at the hole in the center of the dome.

  A narrow blade of sun shone through; it would not be long now.

  He swept his gaze around the temple, where Teleri officials and soldiers stood in solemn silence, forming perfect rows in their meticulously kept uniforms. Under the statue stood the senior-most Keeper of the Shrine of Geros, there to consecrate the rites unheard of in the three centuries since the end of the Arkothi Empire.

  The Keeper switched from the archaic language to modern Arkothi. “First Consul Geros, approach the altar.”

  Chin held high, Geros marched towards the statue, down a central walkway formed by the Teleri ranks. He knelt and looked up to see the sun almost at the center point of the dome’s hole. His attention shifted towards the Keeper.

  The Keeper bowed his head. “The Last Testament of the Founder obligates the Bovyan people to the duty of bringing peace to the world, and ushering in an era of harmony and prosperity unseen since the Hellstorm and Long Winter ended the Arkothi Empire three centuries ago.”

  Yes, yes, old history. Geros forced himself to stay still. He’d soon make a new history.

  “To these ends,” the Keeper prattled on, “we have always evolved. Our First Ancestor and his sons defended the village of Lagrina, and the next generation was the palace guard of Tile. As our mandate grew, we remade ourselves into the Bovyan Knights. When we brought more lands under our protection, we became the Teleri Empire. We now enter a new era, one where we require stability in succession, as outlined by the Edict of Blood Inheritance, agreed upon by the Keepers and the Directori early this year.”

  All of this was known. Geros clenched his jaw. He had bent the Keepers and Directori to his will. Now hurry up and—

  The Keeper looked towards the entrance. The Teleri soldiers broke into low murmurs. Geros fought the urge to follow the Keeper’s eyes.

  A boy from the Shrine came up to his side, holding a black velvet cushion. On top rested the antique crown of the Arkothi emperors. Made of a bluish-grey metal, its tip held a starburst jewel—an artifact used by the elves a thousand years before in their losing war against the orcs.

  Geros grinned in spite of the solemnity of the coronation. Unlike the elves, he would not lose a war.

  The Keeper lifted the crown from the cushion and raised it just as the sun reached its zenith, bathing the statue of Solaris in brightness. The rays caught the starburst, showering the dome above with pins of light.

  At last. The Keeper placed it on Geros’ head.

  Despite its bulk, it weighed very little. A surge of excitement roared through him.

  “By the power vested in me by the Keepers of the Shrine and the Imperial Directori, on this day of the Autumn Equinox in the year 913, I crown First Consul Geros Bovyan, Forty-Third of his name, as Emperor Geros Bovyan the First.”

  Geros rose.

  The Bovyans chanted his name, over and over again.

  The chorus continued until the Keeper raised his hand, calling for silence.

  “Bring forth the consorts of the imperial harem.”

  From the entrance, three dozen young women dressed in Arkothi robes came forward, walking in unison. It was a mélange of pretty faces, chosen from the nobility of six of the ten human races.

  The olive-skinned Arkothi girls, descended from the last Arkothi emperors, had been co
nscripted from within the Teleri Empire. Nothori princesses were never mentioned in the Northwest Summit, but were tribute all the same. Daughters of Estomari merchant signores were there as well, bartered as part of trade rights and protection of trade routes.

  From Teleri’s allies in Madura, Levastya, and the barbarian tribes of Kanin, Geros had secretly negotiated girls from the ruling families, with the promise that one day, grandsons might become Consuls in the Teleri Directori; of course, he foresaw them as rulers of their own ancestral realms.

  It was like a Levanthi sultan’s harem, to breed a pool of potential heirs. Each consort would be discarded and replaced after they bore a son, to avoid tempting the prophecies of the end of the empire. The boys would never know their own mother. Yet unlike the Consuls, who were elected by the Prospecti—or the First Consul, who was elected from the Consuls—the next emperor would be personally chosen by Geros from one of his future sons.

  Unrepresented were the Eldaeri, who falsely claimed to be the chosen tribe of Solaris, and thus deserved extermination for their blasphemy; the chocolate-skinned Aksumi, despite Geros’ efforts to secure their females by diplomacy and other means; and the Bovyans themselves, who had no females. The fourth, the Cathayi—well, Geros knew very well who he wanted to bear his son, even if it meant inviting prophetic doom.

  The Keeper placed a circlet of silver on each of the consorts’ heads; and they, in turn, knelt before Geros and kissed the back of his hand.

  Once the rituals ended, an honor guard escorted Geros out of the temple, to lead a grand parade back to the Iksuvi Palace. Typical Bovyan disdain for flamboyance was momentarily forgotten. Teleri soldiers marched in perfect formation, holding black banners with the nine-pointed sun of Solaris aloft. Each of the consorts was afforded her own litter, curtains open to the chill autumn air to further boast the grandeur of the empire. Geros himself rode astride a Kanin black stallion, waving to the crowds who threw autumn flowers in his path.

  Geros wore a smile, even if he didn’t feel it. There was still the matter of Princess Kaiya, tarnishing what should have been a crowning moment. She’d be his. She would suffer for her treachery. But for now, she was out of reach.