“My queen…” Namra broke in.
“Go to Burbatan,” Ozo repeated. “Before you do something we all regret. If your father was alive, he would’ve said the same thing.”
I hesitated.
“Go!” Ozo barked.
I flinched, the sound of his voice somehow reminding me of Yeshin. For that moment, I was a child reprimanded for disobedience, and my senses swam as I tried to recover from the blow. I tucked the sword into my belt and gave Rai one last look before I fled.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE RUSE REVERSAL
I had thought the sword was lost forever. Stolen by one of the staff, sold for a few pieces of coin.
I noticed it missing after the servants had discovered the bonytongue’s body several days after Yeshin’s funeral. We scoured the castle from top to bottom, though I left it to the staff to check my father’s study because I didn’t want to step foot in it myself. His loss had sent me spinning, and I didn’t want to be reminded of how truly alone I was. I was convinced that the sword would fill up that empty space my father had left behind.
My obsession numbed the grief. I imagined claiming the blade for myself, cutting into my enemies with the comforting weight of it in my hands. I thought of making a show of having it presented to me in court during my coronation—how I would bow to it before they placed the crown on my head. The gesture alone could spark war. Perhaps it was better it never happened. Everything unfolded as it did, the years whirling around me like a hurricane. The sword was forgotten.
To learn that Ozo had it all this time was a light to a corridor I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore. It was easier to pretend he simply wanted what I had. The province of Oren-yaro, at least, if not the throne. Yeshin’s sword would have been a remarkable addition to his collection, a glorious symbol that he deserved what was mine by right. But for him to just hand it to me, and then to let me go…
Go to Burbatan. It was an old town in the foothills, left under the stewardship of a minor lord. The Orenar clan was said to have been in charge of the town in the past, and we still owned the surrounding land to the north. My great-grandfather had built a house there on top of a hill, overlooking a lake; it was where my father had spent most of his childhood and part of his youth, when his brothers were being groomed to rule Oren-yaro. Facts from the vestiges of time, stinking like mothballs.
“We have to find Lamang first,” I told Namra. “Yuebek’s men say he’s somewhere in Onni.”
“Would he still have the boy?”
“He would never abandon someone under his care.”
“If Yuebek’s men have already caught up to Lamang, I don’t see what else we can do,” Namra said. “You need to be gathering support for yourself, Beloved Queen. Make contact with the warlords most willing to listen. You don’t have time for anything else.”
“They have a reason to kill Rayyel if they find Anino. You heard Ozo. The man doesn’t make empty threats. If you care about your lord at all—”
“I care about you both.”
“So move a little faster.”
To her credit, she tried to.
“I don’t know what they want from me,” I managed, slowing down so she could catch up. “Ozo. My father.”
“Your father is—”
“Dead, I know. We’ve talked about this, Namra.” I turned to her and swallowed. “But you’ve seen that throne room. It very nearly killed you when you were trying to investigate. You don’t see how firm of a grip his unseen hand has on all of this?”
“And yet you’re tempted to go to Burbatan, in spite of everything. Beloved Queen, the things Ozo has told you—you don’t have to listen. You are not a child anymore, to listen to your father’s command. You are queen. You can make your own decisions.”
“I can,” I conceded. “But even you can admit my record is… terrible.” I glanced at my father’s sword and felt the sea serpent’s eye looking back at me, imagined a monstrous orb rolling back in its socket, the piercing light shattering my soul. I swallowed and turned to the cloud of dust in the distance. The sound of hooves was suddenly overwhelming. We managed to make it to the side of the road as thousands of riders appeared on the horizon.
Thousands. It had to be thousands. I had never seen so many horses or soldiers before. I felt my heart in my throat as I gazed up at the ones in front, holding up banners with Yuebek’s sigil on them. Their silver-white armour gleamed under the steady blaze of the winter sun. Namra pulled up my hood and motioned for me to cover my face.
“Rai is all alone,” I said, offhandedly.
“We have to believe that he will be safe,” Namra whispered. “Inzali is with him. And his mother is still there.”
“She doesn’t seem to like him all that much.”
“I’ve been with the Ikessars long enough to know she’ll protect him, even just on principle. An enemy of an enemy is a friend, and this is her son.”
“I’m not sure how much I believe that,” I said. “I’ll take your word for it. But blessed Akaterru, that is a lot of soldiers.” I watched as they stopped right outside the city gates, assuming a formation.
“We’ll have to travel off the road,” Namra said.
“It looks like they’re seizing control. Lushai is dead. Prince Nijo is warlord now. He—”
Namra took hold of my elbow. “Tali,” she said.
I found myself staring into her face.
“There are other things you need to worry about. Whatever happens out there… will unfold without you.”
Until she said my name, I didn’t realize how exhausted I must’ve appeared. And perhaps she was right. I had been on the run for most of the day, without a bite to eat since that morning. My trembling fingers were still covered in blood. Subdued, I allowed her to take the lead.
I don’t think we would’ve made it through that parade of soldiers as easily without Namra. Although they appeared disciplined enough as they marched down the road, the long journey from Sutan was taking its toll on some of the lower-ranking soldiers. Some of the foot soldiers jeered at the villagers as they passed—a farmer’s goods were stolen, excused away as “tribute for the Esteemed Prince,” and two young women would’ve been raped if not for the interference of the company captain. If I was alone, I would have marched over there and used my father’s sword to carve my initials into their skulls.
Namra seemed to know what I was thinking and interfered before I could make a decision. She must’ve been the reason Rai had survived all his years of travel—she knew her way through the city, automatically changing her demeanour around me so as not to arouse suspicion. In my peasant’s clothes, I simply appeared to be a serving woman accompanying a priestess to a temple of the Nameless Maker. There were enough such temples around those parts.
Namra and I parted momentarily to find information faster. A mango-seller noted a stronger-than-usual Zarojo presence in a certain district and pointed me to a Kag-style tavern bearing the name of the Owl and the Granny in the distance. “I heard there was at least one Zarojo staying there,” he told me, pocketing the coin I gave him. “Foreigners seem to like the place.” He returned to slicing mangoes.
I crossed a dirty street, past a buffalo dragging behind a cart of wicker goods. A hairy, red-headed man stopped me at the entrance. He said something in Kagtar. I understood it in theory, but real life was making a fool out of me and I couldn’t make out a single word. I made a show of patting my pockets.
The man didn’t look like he believed me. He grabbed my shoulder. I sidestepped, pushing him into the wall. He was a big man, which meant he hit it with a satisfying crack before he tripped over a crate of cabbages.
Somebody whistled from inside the tavern. A woman stepped out, hands on her apron.
He lurched to his feet, spitting blood. He gave me a dirty look, but the woman walked past him to take my arm. I tore myself from her grasp before she could even wrap her fingers around me. I extended my arms past my cloak, revealing my sword. She must�
�ve gotten the idea, because she took a step back before gesturing to me again.
I stepped inside the tavern. There was a single patron there, sitting on the counter, nursing a mug of dark beer.
“You own business in the city now?” I asked, striding casually towards Khine. “I didn’t even know you speak Kag.”
His body tensed as I took the stool next to him, and he looked away for a moment before replying. “I’m glad to see you safe. But you need to make it a habit not to make a scene everywhere you go.”
“I’ll have you know, that was the first since walking into town. Are you going to explain your new friends? Or have you always secretly been a Kag merchant of some sort?”
He laughed, more for his benefit than mine. “Nothing of the sort. They’re closed today, but they let me sit around and watch them dust the chairs or whatever other chore they need done. If that’s friendship, my standards have dropped even lower.” He nudged his plate towards me.
I grabbed the bread. It was drenched in butter and stuffed with some sort of soft, white cheese, the sour kind they made from buffalo milk up in the foothills. I broke it in two and handed the bigger piece back to him.
He shook his head. “You eat. I’m full.”
Without waiting for a second bidding, I crammed the bread into my mouth. He passed his beer over to me.
“I speak a little bit of Kagtar,” he said as he watched me attempt to juggle bread and beer without making a fool of myself. “Not enough to get by.”
“Where’s Anino?” I asked.
He hesitated.
I turned to him in surprise. “Khine—”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. But…”
“I see.” I swallowed.
“They’re safe,” Khine continued. “That’s all you need to know.” He paused, frowning as he gazed at my face. “You look exhausted. Did he hurt you?”
“Yuebek? He always does things that make me ill, but no. Not as you think. I escaped him just this morning.”
“And knowing you, you’ve been on the run since then.” He got up, holding out his hand. “Come. They gave me a room downstairs. You need to sleep.”
“Namra’s still out there.”
“I’ll go fetch her later. Kaz’s men are everywhere.”
“Jiro?”
“His wife, Anya. She’s knows I’m around. I’ve been lying low, hoping to keep her here to give Karia and Anino a chance to escape.” Realizing I wasn’t moving towards him, he reached for my hand himself.
My heart leaped to my throat. I didn’t know what to tell him, didn’t know where to start about everything that had happened that day. His hand was warm on mine as I followed him down the steps.
The room was barely a closet, with only a single potted cactus on the windowsill for decoration. As soon as I walked in, he took a step back, an unsettled expression on his face.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” he lied.
I took a deep breath. “Ozo admitted they were close to capturing you. I was worried.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he said. “You know I can slip past the best of them.”
I paused for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s over, Khine,” I finally said. “Rai and I can forfeit our claim to the throne without having one of us in a position to be used against the other. That damn Chiha gave us all a way out, after all.”
He was silent for a few moments. “Do you really think it’ll be that easy?”
“It won’t. If I do this, I will have to claw my way up from the bottom—become queen on my own merits,” I said. “I’ve no accomplishments on my own. These people won’t follow me for me. Without my father’s name or my marriage…”
“You’d still be you.” He craned his head to the side.
“And is there value in that?” I asked. “A hot-headed woman who can fight better than she can rule… I’m not sure I’ve ever thought of finding support on my own before. I didn’t even think it was an option.”
“Would you rather obey your father’s will?”
“Of course not,” I said.
“And yet you don’t seem angry with him. You are angrier at the personification of his orders than at the man himself.”
“Because there is no sense in getting angry over a dead man,” I said. “Ozo, on the other hand, is very much alive, and has chosen to obey that dead man rather than his own queen. He wants me to go to the foothills, to my clan’s ancestral home first. He says I will regret it if I don’t.”
Khine frowned. “That’s an odd word to use. Regret.”
“Why do you say that?”
“From what I’ve seen of Ozo, he’s as blunt as they come. Reminds me of Agos, really.” He chewed his lip. “Do you intend to go?”
“He’s not exactly the epitome of a man you can trust.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “What,” I murmured, “do I do?”
He looked flustered. “You’re asking me? I’m not really your adviser. The crowning glory of my life is making my last boss lose all his money.”
I recalled Belfang’s words. They must’ve struck deeper than I imagined. “Your counsel has kept me alive this whole time. That’s—”
“Nothing,” he replied easily. “Survival is easy, Tali. Beyond that… it’s something I’ve never had to worry about. Your husband would be more qualified to comment.”
“He won’t be my husband for long.”
“For now, he still is.” Khine scratched the side of his face. “Don’t forget about your son.”
“Kaggawa needs him. He’ll protect him.”
“Not if you give it all up.” He scratched his head with a grimace. “I’ve spoken out of line again. I’ll go look for Namra before I dig myself a hole.” He lingered at the hall for a moment before slowly closing the door. The sound of his boots hung as heavy as his absence.
I fell asleep. That is, my body did; my mind remained awake, drifting down a corridor that led to that blue-tinged throne room underneath my father’s study. I felt myself running, felt myself wanting to run faster than my legs would let me. As I reached the gaping blackness of the far end, I turned to see a dark figure approach, sword in hand. Yellow eyes gleamed from the shadows. A shot of fear ran through my veins and I started barking.
I woke up. Blinding orange light seeped through the windows, as bright as those eyes.
The woman who worked at the tavern came down to give me breakfast, which was nothing more than a plate of hard-boiled eggs and a cup of strong coffee, sweetened with brown sugar. I managed to convey a question on Khine’s whereabouts, and she spoke the Jinan word for “market” before handing me my cloak. Khine, it seemed to me, had the same penchant for making friends as I did enemies—she seemed oddly concerned about my well-being. I left the inn not long after, winding my way through the back alley that led to the marketplace.
It was crawling with Zarojo.
I could see them wandering through the stalls, harassing the shopkeepers in broad daylight. A guard passed a group, and I noticed that they conveniently looked away. It didn’t matter that their warlord was dead; word must’ve come from the castle telling them to leave the foreigners alone.
Something tugged at my shirt. I turned around and saw a little girl. She placed a finger on her lips. I followed her to the back alley where Khine was waiting. He flipped a coin at her.
“You should start your own crime syndicate,” I said, stepping to one side as the girl dashed off. “You’d own half the city in no time.”
He didn’t look amused. “Anya’s in the neighbourhood. It’s time you leave. Namra’s staying in a shop near the river. If I draw Anya’s attention, I don’t think she’ll even realize you were around.”
“I came here for you, Khine. I’m not going to leave you to her mercy.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
He glanced away, looking discomfited. “I’m not worth the risk.”
&
nbsp; “I’ve—”
“Your son, Tali. You need to get to him. You can’t afford to give your enemies that kind of power over you. They’ll use the people you care for, and then—”
“That’s exactly why I’m here.”
He stood there and stared.
We were distracted by a sharp whistle from the end of the street. Khine placed a hand on my shoulder and led me to a roof deck in the building behind us, where a group of older children were taking care of a flock of pigeons. He greeted them, throwing more coins into the air. “Give me and my lady friend a moment alone?” he asked. The children laughed as they grabbed the offering and fled down the steps. I walked past the pigeon coops, towards the railing where I could see the entire district.
He stepped towards me. “Tali…” he started, and then trailed off. Did I want to know what was really on his mind? The truth that lay hidden between the pauses, these silences, the things we weren’t willing to say out loud—perhaps it was best to bury it.
“Yuebek made Lo Bahn a marquis, did you know?” I asked.
He gave a soft smile at my attempt to change the conversation. “A poor decision. The man will bankrupt the province within the month.”
I heard laughter again, louder than from the street. I turned around and saw the little girl from earlier. She was holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hands. She gave Khine a furtive glance before rushing off to envelop me in a hug. “She’s taken a shine to you, hasn’t she?” Khine asked.
“I’m good with children,” I replied, patting the girl’s head. “Life with Rai prepares you for that kind of thing.”
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 22
