by Devin Madson
Tor opened his mouth and closed it again, looking from the tall woman to Rah and back at me, every eye on him, every ear waiting.
Shit, I thought as no answer came. They aren’t united. That was a problem. Had they all been united behind Rah I would have felt more sure of them, but nothing was ever easy.
General Moto cleared his throat, and seeming to realise he had gone too long without answering, Tor said, “The Levanti do not follow a single ruler as you do. Some of us wish to fight, and some of us wish to go home. For the purposes of discussion, however, you should perhaps address yourself to Whisperer Ezma.”
General Moto touched my elbow and I turned my head enough to catch his low whisper. “Offer them sanctuary here for now. We need time to discuss what to do with them.”
What to do with them. I bristled at the implication they were things to be used, but his words were wise all the same. We didn’t know their intentions.
I needed to talk to Rah.
“My soldiers will help you find stables for your horses. And sleeping quarters,” I said. “While we are safe here, you are safe with us.”
Tor passed the message on, and relief rippled through the gathered Levanti. They began to move about, heading for the doors, low talk spreading. Rah’s gaze was on me, but I couldn’t risk looking at him again and was grateful for the appearance of Minister Manshin stalking across the hall.
“Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. “Congratulations on your conquest.”
“If we can hold it. Any news of Bahain?”
“He is a day behind us. Maybe two.”
“And Oyamada?”
Minister Manshin shook his head. “I sent messengers, but I doubt they will reach him in time. With the supplies and the foot soldiers, he would be travelling much slower than either of us. He may only have reached Shimai by now.”
General Moto cleared his throat. “Well then, if you don’t have a whole extra battalion or two out there, Minister, we may be in trouble.”
“We may be in trouble.”
“Maybe,” I said, watching the Levanti milling around the doors. “Tell me, Minister. How many soldiers is each Levanti worth in the saddle, do you think? You may have brought with you quite the army after all, so long as we can get them to fight for us.”
The Levanti refused proper rooms in the upper castle, instead making their own dormitory spaces in the outbuildings around the stable yard. I didn’t like it, but it created separation between them and the Kisian soldiers filling the guardhouses and barracks, and that was for the best.
I found Rah sitting in the stable yard, basking in what was left of the day’s meagre sunshine while a Kisian physician checked a wound on his leg. Tor was with him, providing the necessary translation.
As I crossed the yard, eyes swivelled to stare, and I regretted the impulse of coming in search of Rah amongst his own people. At the growing hush, he looked up. Our eyes met. And though I felt an almost overwhelming urge to look away from so direct a gaze, he showed no sign of discomfort, just watched me approach with a guarded look made fierce by the bruises fading on his face. Beside him, Tor seemed to find the mud-streaked stone safer to look at.
Heart thumping like a war drum, I stopped beside the physician. My guards’ boots scuffed as they halted behind me. Rah’s steady gaze hadn’t shifted.
The physician looked up. “If you don’t mind, you’re in my li—Oh, Your Majesty. I’m sorry, I did not realise it was you, I—”
“Even an empress is capable of blocking the light.” I stepped to the left, making Rah turn his head to keep me in his line of sight. “Is that better?”
“Y-yes, thank you, Your Majesty. I will soon be done. These are unpleasant wounds, but they have been surprisingly well cared for.”
Tor grunted, and I met his scowl with an apologetic little grimace, which only made him look away again, seeming to hate the very sight of my face.
“Rah,” I said, finally facing the reason I had come. “It’s good to see you again.”
He lifted his fists and pressed them together in the Levanti sign of respect. “Empress Miko.”
Tor had not translated. Many times I had imagined being reunited, wondering how Rah would look and what he would say, forgetting that however well we had come to understand each other in gestures and simple words, for any conversation more nuanced we needed Tor. It was daunting, especially with so many people watching. I could not mime anything, or butcher Levanti words in an attempt to remember things he had taught me. I had to be dignified and proud, and I began to wish I had not come at all.
I turned to Tor. “Tor e’Torin,” I said. “I would greatly appreciate if you could translate for us.”
“Fine.”
I could have stared him down for so disrespectful a reply, but I knew as well as he did just how much I needed him. “Thank you. Let him know I am happy to see him again and ask how his wounds fare.”
I ignored the roll of his eyes and watched Rah’s features as Tor passed my words along in Levanti.
“He says it is also good to see you, Your Majesty,” Tor said. “He feared for you when you parted. His wounds will soon heal.”
Relief warmed me. Whether at the knowledge he had cared what happened to me, or that his wounds would not long keep him from being able to fight, I wasn’t sure. It was a mercenary thought, but I was running out of options.
“I am glad to hear that,” I said, hating such stiff formality. I had sat naked in a bathhouse with this man, had shared meagre meals and a single sleeping mat, but here we were, empress and warrior, and all too many eyes were watching. I cleared my throat, hoping to loosen some of my awkwardness. “I understand you were of some help to my minister on the way here. Might I enquire where you were going when you ran into him?”
I wished the question unasked as soon as I spoke it. It didn’t sound like something a curious friend would ask but rather a suspicious interrogation. Tor made that little frown of his.
“As he helped us,” was Rah’s reply through Tor’s lips. “We weren’t going anywhere. We were… undecided as to our next steps when we came across your soldiers and our people near the shrine. But I am sure Minister Manshin has already told you what happened.”
He had, but I hadn’t been able to make much sense of it. That Rah hadn’t been travelling with either group of Levanti was clear, but why not? And why had he offered his help? And why had two angry factions of Levanti listened to him? Manshin had shrugged when I asked, all too willing to put it down to the unknowable Levanti culture.
The physician shuffled back and stood. “All good for now, but it will need new bandages tonight. And tomorrow it should be left to air if possible.” He spoke to Tor as though he were Rah’s keeper.
“Thank you,” Tor said, showing the physician more respect than he showed me. Stiff, reluctant respect, but respect all the same.
“Anytime; I take my profession very seriously.” He bowed to me. “Your Majesty. With your permission, I will move on.”
“Indeed, thank you.”
Another bow and he was gone, leaving me standing awkwardly to Rah’s side like I had attempted to creep up on him and been caught in the act. I looked around at our audience. Most were Levanti, and not many were close enough to hear what was being said, but the interest with which they surveyed me was troubling. Could nothing ever just be simple?
“Your people,” I said, gesturing around at the gathered Levanti. “What is it they want here?”
“The answer would change depending on who you asked,” Tor said, answering the question himself. “As I said before, the Levanti have never been a united people. We follow our herds.”
“But now your herds are divided? You are both Torin, but how many of these men and women are Torin too?”
“About three, Your Majesty.”
Rah tilted his head, the look of a man trying to understand.
“The largest number of any one herd here are the Bedjuti,” Tor went on. “But they only mak
e up maybe a quarter of our total numbers, the rest a combination of Swords from all different herds.”
Somewhat emboldened by the fact no one watching could understand our conversation, I said, “And how many of them follow Rah?”
“Right now? None. He hasn’t put himself forward.”
“And if he did?”
“If he chooses to fight for you?” Tor folded his arms. “There are some here who are angry and want to attack Gideon. There are some who want to liberate the Levanti they see as being forced to fight for him. There are some who are just following Ezma because she’s a horse whisperer and they don’t know what else to do. Some just want to go home. If Rah makes a stand he might get half of them. Maybe more. Maybe less. I don’t know. He is well respected, but Ezma is a horse whisperer.”
“You don’t know?”
“Levanti don’t pick sides until forced to do so.”
“A fine luxury.”
He gave me a look brimming with disdain. “Hardly. It’s necessary for survival. People who pick sides too early tend to make poor choices. They also make factions and divisions, and those factions and divisions make internal wars, internal wars that no herd can sustain. We don’t have the resources for ideology.”
Although he had said nothing insulting about my people, his ongoing disdain made the information more like an attack, and I bristled. “Is that a jab at the way my people deal with conflicts, Tor e’Torin?”
“No, but if you must make this about you then by all means take it as criticism. From what I’ve learned about both Chiltae and Kisia, internal divisions are the reason for almost all your problems.”
I wished I could slap him, but gods damn the man he was right. Whatever his reasons for disliking me so much, he had not attacked me with baseless insults, and somehow that was worse.
“I thank you for your honesty,” I said, forcing a smile I was far from feeling.
“Better you understand what you’re asking of him before you ask it.”
Rah looked from me to Tor and back, frowning, and I realised I was glad he couldn’t understand what we had been saying. Whatever my need for soldiers, I was happy to see him for himself. I had told myself I wasn’t going to see him again, and hadn’t realised how much I had been hoping it was untrue.
Despite all the things I needed to say as an empress, right now I needed to be Miko more. Nodding to Tor, I said, “Thank you, you may leave us. Rah.” I gestured away across the yard. “Are you able to walk with me?”
Rah nodded and got carefully to his feet.
I was a tall woman, a tall Kisian, but I had forgotten just how completely the Levanti towered over us. Tor only had an inch or two on me, but Rah was half a head taller, and he wasn’t the tallest. I looked up to his face as he joined me, only to look away in confusion, my cheeks growing hot. It was the serious, intent look he always had, seeming to both consider me and look right into my soul at the same time.
With my two guards trailing at a discreet distance, I set off across the courtyard at a slow enough pace I hoped Rah would not struggle. He made no complaint, and I was reminded how indefatigable he had been on our seemingly endless walk across southern Kisia in the rain. It had been daunting and uncomfortable, tiring and depressing, and I had feared all the way that I would never find allies again, that I had lost, but with him there, every day had been a little brighter. A little easier.
Having no idea what I wanted to say or what he would understand, I said nothing. Until the silence became uncomfortable and I glanced up, catching a smile. “Hello,” I said in Levanti, just as he had taught me around one of many meagre campfires.
The first smile had been encouraging, but the next lit the day. His eyes crinkled at the edges and he breathed a half laugh, his whole being more alive in that moment than I had ever seen him. “Hello,” he returned, his Kisian accent far better than my Levanti. “How are you?”
Had I taught him that? I didn’t think so, yet he’d picked it up all the same. “Good. Well. You?” I said.
He shrugged and gestured at his various wounds, but despite them he smiled and said, “Good,” as I had done, following it up with another shrug and some Levanti I didn’t understand.
I tried to think through all the words he had taught me, but short of listing unconnected terms like fire and rain, I had nothing. So I spoke in Kisian and hoped he would understand the sentiment, if not my actual words.
“Thank you for rescuing Minister Manshin,” I said. “He came just when I needed him most and… helped.” Oh, to be able to tell him all about Jie. Would he think me monstrous for having killed a child? Surely he would. It had been him or me, yet whatever my excuses, Jie had been a child and I was not. A moment then to be thankful he couldn’t understand me.
I stopped walking and turned to him, and knowing myself free from anyone who would overhear us, free even from being understood by the man before me, I found I could speak more honestly than I had for a long time. Perhaps ever.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” I said, looking up into his face, his smile fading into its usual serious concentration. “Missed the sight of you always there, missed the sound of your voice and the comfort of… not being alone when I ought to have felt more alone than ever. I say… I say Minister Manshin helped me when I needed it most, but I would not have even been there, perhaps not even been alive, if not for you. You saved me.” He tilted his head, and I reddened and looked away, fearing his judgement on my feelings. “Shishi and I owe you a great debt.”
“Shishi?” His face brightened as he latched on to a familiar word and looked around the courtyard.
“Oh, she’s not with me, I couldn’t bring her on the ship, you see…” Despite that truth, danger felt like a foolish reason to have left her behind after everything we had been through together. “She is with Minister Oyamada. But if all goes well…” I couldn’t finish that thought. Too great were the chances it would not go well at all.
Turning away, Rah beckoned me to follow, and I caught up as my guards parted to let him through. Hurrying after him was hardly the action of an empress, but his aura of excitement had overcome my need for dignity.
The mixture of discomfort and excitement warred within me all the way to one of the smaller stables. No Levanti bustled here, and it took me a moment to realise it was because this stable was full of Kisian horses. There would be a man somewhere whose job it was to look after them, probably a few stable boys, but for the most part Kisians were happy to let their servants look after their animals. Without Bahain, no one was paying them much heed.
Except there was one Levanti horse, and at sight of him I hurried toward his stall. “Jinso!”
I rushed in, genuinely pleased to see him. On that first journey to Syan, his great size and strength had helped me feel less like a weak, frightened girl stubbornly running from inevitability.
Jinso lowered his head and nuzzled me as I drew close, giving me such joy to have been remembered that I turned to Rah. My heart surely stopped at the intent look on his face. It made my breath come in shortened gasps, and the hand on Jinso’s neck felt fuzzily like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
We were alone but for Jinso, together in this confined space as we had been in the bathhouse, and as he had stared at me then he stared at me now, and I realised he was never going to move. Whether it was his sense of honour or respect or something deeper and more cultural, he was never going to kiss me if I did not kiss him.
The realisation was both paralysing and thrilling. The power was mine, but if I was not brave enough to use it, nothing would ever happen.
The moment of indecision, of heavy-footed fear, seemed to stretch painfully long, but Rah just stood and watched me. Heat filled my body. I licked my lips, and letting my hand fall from Jinso’s neck, I took a step closer. Too small a step, but Rah did not run, did not retreat, did nothing but watch me with far more calm than I could ever imagine feeling.
One more step. Just one more. It was like dragging m
y feet through mud. Time seemed to have stopped, but there were his lips and his face and the warmth of his body and—
I took the final step, close enough that our clothes brushed against each other, close enough that he had to look down at me as I had to look up, that our fingers could have entwined if I shifted my hands. Instead I lifted them and set them upon his chest—gods, were they really shaking so badly? I hoped he wouldn’t notice, would just feel the weight of them as I felt his firm muscles, and in a daze, I stretched onto my toes.
At the touch of his soft, warm lips I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, every part of me ceasing to function. There was just him and me and nothing else. And he had not pulled away. Not flinched.
His hands pressed into the small of my back, sending a thrill not only of touch but of triumph shivering through me. I leant into him, wanting to be as close as I could get and give permission the only way I could.
“Majesty?”
I stepped back, wiping my mouth with my hand, face burning. I couldn’t look at Rah, only rage at the destruction of our moment and seethe with shame, sure Minister Manshin knew well what he had interrupted, and if not, that he would see the kiss upon my lips like it had been painted there in brightest red.
He stood in the doorway, blocking the light, silent a moment upon the threshold before he stepped in. Outside, my guards’ shadows shifted their weight.
“Your Majesty,” Manshin said, turning his shoulder on Rah and addressing me alone. “Governor Koali is here.”
“What?” I had expected anything but that and was stunned out of my embarrassment enough to add, “Where? What does he want?”
“I couldn’t say, Your Majesty. He’s been shown into the Cavern to await you.” He glanced at Rah and back to me. “You should come at once.”
I hated I could not meet the hard look in my minister’s eyes, like I was a child he had chanced upon in mischief. “Of course,” I said with as much stiff pride as I could muster, and nodding to Rah like he was no one, like I could not still taste him on my lips, I followed Minister Manshin out into the harsh daylight of a real world where I was an empress and Rah a warrior from a far-off land.