by Devin Madson
We had played in the empty palace halls. We had played in the gardens. And every summer we had sailed a little boat out into the centre of the pond. It hadn’t been much more than a pond, perhaps too deep for us at the time but not for a grown adult, its width side to side little more than a few lengths of our oars, but to us it had been as big and dangerous as the sea. Full of fabled monsters and pirates, of fish so big they could not be reeled in and sea people who spoke in streams of bubbles, it had been our favourite place to sneak away between lessons. Now as I listened to the general’s orders and the rhythm of footsteps crossing the deck, it was Edo and Tanaka I could hear.
“Lower the boats!” Tanaka shouted, standing proud at one end of the ship, a hand outstretched in the direction of oncoming pirates, the other hooked into his sash. “Archers at the ready!”
“Yes, Captain!” Edo cried, the boat wobbling as he sat.
“Ready, Captain!”
Tanaka had lowered his arm and rolled his eyes at me. “You need to speak in a deeper voice, Koko. Imperial Archers don’t squeak.”
“I didn’t squeak!”
“You did. You said ‘Ready, Captain,’” he repeated, lifting his voice mockingly high. “Soldiers don’t talk like that.”
“They might if they were women. And besides, I didn’t talk like that and you know it; you’re just cross because I hit more targets than you this morning.”
He had opened his mouth to retort, but turned as Edo began stomping, his sandal meeting the bottom of the boat with a hard clack. Once. Twice. A third time. A succession of short, staccato snaps followed by another long then short then long, and while Tanaka watched, he repeated the pattern.
“What’s that for?”
Edo had flushed, his foot halting before the last hard snap. “It’s a call for help,” he said.
“What is? Stomping your foot?”
“No, the pattern. When ships are in trouble, they flash the pattern and wait for help. At least Father’s ships do. It might be different for different fleets.”
“Oh!” Tanaka’s face had lit up. “You mean it’s like a secret code?”
“Well, I guess.”
Tanaka had completely forgotten our argument, completely forgotten the game, and sat on the rowing bench opposite Edo with a hungry look on his face. “What else can you say other than ‘help’?”
“Your Majesty?”
Pulled from the past, I looked up, heartache lingering. One of Moto’s soldiers hovered at the edge of the awning, seemingly unsure if he was allowed to step beneath out of the incessant rain. It had followed us into the night, but despite how much I wanted to be warm and dry and not feel like my skin had grown as swollen and saggy as my clothes, it was a blessing to our plans.
“Yes?”
The man bowed. “General Moto sent me to tell you he’s ready, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile through my heartache. “Tell him I shall be with him in a moment.”
He flicked his gaze toward me and away, murmuring thanks and bowing again before backing out into the pelting rain. I let go a sigh and went back to smearing blood and ash onto my face and arms so I would look like I’d been in a fight.
When I joined General Moto, he stood at the railing staring at the lights of Syan growing closer as the wind pushed us toward the city. “I would deem my duty undone if I did not once more, most strongly, counsel against this plan, Your Majesty,” he said without pulling his gaze from the wild sea. “If the storm does not drown you, the Bahains certainly will.”
“Thank you for your warning, General Moto,” I said. “But once again I shall choose to ignore it. Do you know how many times I could have given up? I could have been a docile daughter and married Dom Leo Villius, though it would have made no difference. I could have let my mother kill Emperor Kin, though that too would have made little difference. I could have run away after the siege of Mei’lian, but I came back. I could have let Grace Bahain take the empire, but I refused. There is always an easier way, but easy isn’t the same as right. There is a chance this will go horribly wrong, but the prize is worth the risk, wouldn’t you say?”
The general met my gaze, sea spray and rain whirling through the golden halo of lantern light behind him. “You have more wisdom than I expected from a young woman your age, Your Majesty. And in truth I agree. The prize is worth the risk, which is the reason I am only counselling you to reconsider, not ordering my men to turn this ship around.”
“Against my orders?”
“You do what you think is right and so do I. That’s why Emperor Kin disliked me so much and kept me stationed as far from the capital as he could. For all his low birth and soldier’s blood, he didn’t like being disobeyed or hearing anything more than ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’”
“Then we are going ahead with this, General Moto?”
A small smile quirked his lips. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“The boats are ready?”
“Yes, and my best rowers are wearing the few uniforms we had left bearing the Bahain sigil, but there aren’t enough for the soldiers in the second boat. They’ll arrive a little behind you in the hope they aren’t noticed.”
Not ideal, but we would have to make do and hope the combination of rain, surprise, and small numbers would work in our favour. “All right. If everything is ready, put the red glass in and we’ll get this over with.”
“Lower the red and give me the plate,” he said to the soldier beside him.
“Yes, General.”
Even over the crashing waves and the clunk of oars in the waiting boat, the grating of metal on metal made me shiver as the red glass frame dropped in front of the lantern. Where golden light had spilled onto the waves there was now a stream of blood. And into Moto’s hand landed a broad metal plate. “Damn, but this thing is heavy,” he muttered. “Why do sailors always have to make everything so thick and sturdy?”
A few laughs sounded in the small crowd gathered behind us.
“All right, Your Majesty. What is it you would like to say?”
Rain pattered heavily onto the surface of the ocean, an angry barrage that stole all other sounds from the night. Waves crashed against the sides of the boat, rocking us sickeningly, and with my hands tied I could not swallow the fear I would be thrown overboard into the dark, storm-swept sea.
With both General Ryoji and General Moto too recognisable, I sat in the company of soldiers they trusted but I did not know. I had a part to play, so I had let them help me into the rocking boat and tie me up and sat with them now as they rowed toward the great, towering black crag that was Kiyoshio Castle.
No one spoke. Even had there been anything to say, the roar of the wind and the rain made it impossible. All I could do was watch the castle draw ever closer, occasionally glancing back to be sure the other boats still followed and our ship had not foundered. There was nothing to see but a hulking outline and a collection of ships’ lamps, while the boats following were a swarm of low-hovering fireflies caught in our wake.
I stared at the night and tried not to think. Not to worry that the code had changed. That I had misremembered it. That we were all about to drown.
Do not worry about things you cannot change. That had been the wisdom of our tutor, Master Ukiata. Had it been one of Emperor Kin’s lessons he would no doubt have added, but change things you would rather not worry about.
We drew close enough to see inside the cave mouth, all light and hazy shapes through the downpour. I couldn’t tell if a few guards awaited us, or many. How many were stationed here without Grace Bahain? Was Edo still at home?
No, I told myself, asking questions I could not answer was a pointless exercise in mounting anxiety. All I could do now was hope the answer was no.
The looming castle blocked most of the sky from view, the rain lessening as we rowed into its protective lee.
“We’re almost there, Your Majesty,” said the soldier sitting beside me. Captain Soku, maybe. There were so m
any of them to remember.
“Yes, I can see that, Captain. I assume we are all ready.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The soldiers were getting restless as we approached the harbour, its opening all too like the open maw of a beast. Lights flickered inside, and as we drew beneath the overhanging rock, the rain finally petered out. I had left half my armour behind to look more like a prisoner, but even without it the weight of my saturated clothing was uncomfortable. For the others in their full armour it must have been almost unbearable.
None of them complained. None of them moved. There were a few men standing on the dock watching us approach, and we were on show now, acting the roles we had to play for this to work. Mine was to scowl and sit proud, shooting looks of disdain, which suited me just fine.
Captain Soku glanced my way, but I just straightened my back and squared my shoulders and glared around. Boats roped to their mooring posts bobbed up and down on the swell, while a party of guards stood on the dock, unsurprised at the sight of me. They looked like a welcome party, though whether they had believed our message or not I couldn’t tell. Until one smirked.
“How lovely to see you back again, Your Highness,” the man said. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall what part he had played in my escape from the castle a few weeks before. “It seems you didn’t get as far away as you would have liked.”
“That’s Your Majesty,” I snapped.
“Grace Bahain has given his oath to Emperor Gideon. Our empress is Empress Sichi e’Torin, may she live forever. You are nothing.” The sound of Sichi’s name sent a worried chill through me. I couldn’t but think of that morning in the bathhouse when she had begged me for information and wonder what had been in her mind. Had she abandoned us for a surer prospect? Even if that prospect was a conqueror from over the sea? I had only to think I couldn’t believe it of her to remember how much I hadn’t thought myself capable of. There is no limit when you’re truly desperate. Jie’s death had been proof of that.
No, don’t think about him. Don’t think about how he had kicked and struggled and gasped against the pillow as I pressed it against his face.
The boat bumped up against the stone quay, and one of my soldiers threw out the mooring rope with the skill of one who had done it before. No doubt General Moto’s doing. After Jie’s fear the man would be the next emperor, I had determined to be careful, but I couldn’t help respecting him. Even liking him.
With the rope caught and tied, my soldiers began to disembark. Only half a dozen guards had been waiting and were soon outnumbered, but they could have been fooling us as we were fooling them. The passage beyond the closed door could be full of armed men.
When it was our turn to climb out, Captain Soku gripped my elbow. Playing my role, I yanked my arm free, almost sending him overboard. “Don’t touch me,” I said. “I can stand on my own.”
“Then get moving,” he said, a pronounced sneer in his voice. “We don’t have all night.”
Exactly like a woman walking to her execution, I strode to the front of the rocking boat and made to step out, but with my arms tied I could not balance myself and would have fallen had the captain not been behind me. The gentle way he steadied me gave the lie to his earlier act, and I stepped out with renewed confidence. Behind me the last of our soldiers followed. Fourteen in all, as many as we could take without risking the appearance of something more sinister. Even so the greeting party eyed us warily. “A lot of guards for one woman.”
“Not just one woman,” the captain said, having stepped out behind me. “For a princess with a reputation for escaping. We thought it wise to be on the safe side rather than let her get away again. His Grace would not have liked that news, I think.”
The speaker lifted his chin in reluctant agreement, but eyed us with no less suspicion. I had told General Moto to mention injured soldiers as well as a prisoner—long short long long long—in the hope they would not take amiss the appearance of other boats on their way, but it had been a risk. We needed to get moving, needed to get through the door—repaired now, I noticed, after Edo’s soldiers had smashed it in an attempt to stop me escaping—before the others drew close enough to be seen without the right sigil.
Their attention had begun to shy toward the incoming boats, so I stepped in front of them. “Well? What is it you intend to do with me now you have me? Am I to be executed? Or is His Grace wishful of selling me to the highest bidder?”
I dared not suggest I knew what Grace Bahain really wanted, but by the renewal of the man’s sneer he knew a tactical marriage for power was in my future. “Oh no, he has something much better in store for you, Your Highness. Take her upstairs. Keep her tied up. We don’t want to risk her escaping.”
“Or what? Grace Bahain will have your head?”
A flicker of fear, there and gone to be replaced with a snarl. “Get her out of here.”
His gaze shied back to our second boat gliding in beneath the overhanging rock. The Bahain sigil gleamed on the rowboat’s prow, and the figures inside sat still and quiet, no reason for him to doubt, yet my heart raced and I wished my hands were not so tightly bound. It had been for my safety as much as for the ruse, General Moto had said when I suggested a pretence. The Bahains wanted me alive, and if all went wrong and I got trapped, they wouldn’t harm someone who wasn’t fighting.
It hadn’t filled me with confidence.
One of Grace Bahain’s real soldiers unlocked the harbour door and leaned against it, my heart exulting as it squealed open.
Four of his men went before us, and Captain Soku let four of our own go before shoving me in their wake. The rest came after, while the splosh of oars and the thunk of a wooden hull meeting stone echoed behind us. Someone spoke. It sounded like a question, but over the footsteps of the soldiers in the tight passage I couldn’t make out words. The splashing grew quieter, and I risked a glance back at the open door.
A shout echoed, followed by another. And in its wake, chaos broke out behind us. My fear that the last two boats weren’t close enough to avoid a barrage of arrows from the upper battlement was soon overwhelmed by shouts of “Traitors!” ringing along the passage. One burning torch behind, one ahead, and in the dim space between them, my soldiers turned on Bahain’s. Captain Soku thrust me out of the brutal scuffle, and I fell against another soldier as someone cried out. Grunts and the wet, meaty sound of cut flesh filled the close space, stinking of blood.
I spun to the man I had fallen against. “Quick, cut my ropes.”
No sooner did the ropes fall than Captain Soku gripped my shoulder. “Stay with me, Your Majesty. The rest of you, go ahead. We have to secure the castle while we still have some element of surprise. Go go go!”
Soldiers hurried away and I made to follow, reaching for the short blade concealed beneath my robe. “With all respect, Your Majesty,” the captain said, still holding my arm, “you must wait.”
“I am quite capable of—”
“I’m sure you are, but they are in Bahain uniforms and can get a lot more done without being suspected. If you go with them, they are more likely to die.”
I hated how right he was and that I ought to have thought of it myself.
Back in the cave, the last of Grace Bahain’s guards were dead, and our third boat had arrived, spilling more soldiers onto the stone pier. Wherever the secret lookout was stationed, he had surely run for help by now.
The second load of soldiers hurried toward us and pressed past in a thin snake of seawater-clogged hair and leather. Once they had passed, I made to pull out of the captain’s grip, but he did not let me go. “You said I could not join soldiers wearing the right sigil, but those men have no sigil at all. If you wish to stop me you will have to come up with a better excuse.”
“A better excuse than that my general ordered me to keep you out of the fighting?”
His expression was hard to read in the dim passageway, but I thought I caught a wry smile. “Yes,” I said. “A better one tha
n that. But you can tell General Moto I am flattered by his solicitude.”
I turned away as he laughed, and hurried after my soldiers.
Noise echoed along the passage, bouncing from the stones in a way that made it impossible to know where it came from. Grunts of effort and running steps came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, and I hurried on, trying to recall the way Edo had brought us the night we had escaped this place.
I met only corpses before I found the winding stairs leading to the highest parts of the castle. My men had been given orders regarding what defences to take out and how to signal to the main ship so more soldiers could come safely ashore. They did not need me but I hurried on, desperate to be there, to be part of it, to prove a woman could do it too. Jie’s words went on haunting me.
The upper passages of Kiyoshio Castle were dark, no lanterns lit in the Cavern or any of the upper chambers. But there was noise and flickers of torchlight, and I hurried on toward the yelps of surprise as my men cut their way through Grace Bahain’s guards.
They weren’t to harm Edo if they found him, but in the darkness, would they be able to tell? “Edo!” I called in the direction of the Cavern. “Edo?” I thought I had seen someone move, but no one answered.
I strode along the shadowy passage, looking into every open doorway. “Edo?”
I stuck my head into the narrow room where I had taken a bath. “Edo?”
Someone whimpered, hands clasped over their mouth. I stepped inside. They pushed back against the wall, feet slipping on the floor in an effort to gain purchase. A pale skirt flapped and I held out both palms to show I carried no weapon. “I won’t hurt you,” I said. “Do you work here?”
I tried not to think of the serving girl who had attacked me, who had come so close to throwing me over the edge of the balcony onto the rocks below. I hadn’t even heard her body land over the rush of the chill sea wind.
Another whimper was the only reply. Probably not a killer. I took a step closer. “I promise I won’t harm you or allow my men to do so. Just tell me, are either of your masters at home?”