by Devin Madson
A familiar smell clung to his heavy silk.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, his voice husky.
‘We do,’ I agreed. ‘About Darius.’
‘That was not what I meant.’
‘You can’t execute him.’
‘Can’t?’ His eyes glittered dangerously and I stepped back, suddenly unsure. Katashi caught my wrist. ‘What else could I have done, Hana? The court watch me like hawks, waiting for any sign of weakness. If I give them one it will be my head on the block.’
‘So you sacrifice my guardian?’
‘He won’t die, Hana, unless he’s a fool.’
Shin had said the same. The Darius I knew was proud, but not proud enough to go to the headsman for another man’s cause.
‘Hana.’ Katashi brushed his thumb across my dry lips. ‘Don’t worry about Lord Laroth. I’m the only guardian you need. You’re a Pike not a Spider.’
Mesmerised, I stared into his bright eyes. I had wanted him that night beneath the Kissing Tree and now the same desire betrayed me. His hand found my waist, his warm breath dancing across my cheek.
A hurried step came along the passage. I wished it away, but it grew louder, and Katashi’s gaze slipped past me.
‘Your Majesty?’
‘Yes?’ Katashi snapped. ‘What is it?’
‘News from Mei’lian, Your Majesty.’
Snapped out of his spell, I turned. A scout had bowed low, his chest heaving and his hair dripping with sweat. Shaking fingers gripped the loose fabric of his breeches.
‘And?’
‘The Usurper is alive.’
‘What?’
‘He sits upon the throne in Mei’lian, Your Majesty,’ the messenger said, finally straightening though he could not meet his emperor’s fiery gaze. ‘Not one of our messages arrived before him.’
Katashi’s expression was grim, clenched teeth squaring his strong jaw.
‘I thought we had men on every road,' I said.
‘Then we can assume he didn’t travel by road,’ Katashi snapped. ‘Is there anything else?’
The messenger shook his head. ‘No, Your Majesty. I came as fast as I could. I did not wait for more.’
‘You may go.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.’
The man turned on his heel and walked away almost as fast as he had arrived.
‘What does this mean?’ I asked, looking up into Katashi’s scowl.
He looked down at me and I became aware of how close he was standing. ‘What does it mean?’ he repeated. ‘That is hard to say. No doubt Mei’lian and much of the south will remain loyal to Kin.’
‘We planned for better.’
He let out a humourless laugh. ‘Yes, my dear, we planned for better, but it is not as bad as it sounds. The north is more populated than the south, and with the defection of Generals Manshin, Tikita and Roi, we now have nearly half the Rising Army fighting for our cause. And every day the Pikes grow in number. They’re coming from cities and towns loyal to us: Koi, Ji, Suway, and particularly along the border we are getting good numbers.’
‘Not so bad,’ I agreed.
This drew a reluctant smile, cutting the single dimple into his cheek. ‘I have to go. Councils wait for emperors, but bad news doesn’t. Our talk will have to wait.’
‘Let me come with you.’
His expression darkened again. ‘To the Council? No.’
‘But–’
‘No buts, Hana. I have been an emperor for two days. I will see my generals without my cousin to chaperon me.’ His hand found my cheek. ‘No, don’t scowl at me. I’ll come see you tonight and we can talk. Send your maid to bed. I don’t want to be overheard.’
* * *
Tili did not want to leave. Instead she fussed around, rolling out my sleeping mat and striking fresh lanterns, each globe of pretty patterned paper emitting muted light. Every one was hung or placed around the room with particular precision, Tili taking a degree of care over the art that she rarely showed. She would even have sent for maids to empty my bath had I not laughed and ordered her out.
‘If there is anything you need, my lady,’ she said, half out the door. ‘Anything at all, just call for me.’
‘I will. Thank you, Tili.’
‘Anything for you, my lady.’
Finally she slid the door closed.
Freshly dressed, I knelt before my mirror, combing the same ringlets over and over. Katashi’s traitor generals had not returned after the council meeting, and I had waited for Katashi in vain. Rumours had danced around the court from tongue to malicious tongue, but although men crowded around me seeking favour, not one of them was willing to speak their mind. I was just a girl to be humoured for the sake of my name.
The door slid softly and I turned. Katashi stood a moment on the threshold, brows lifted as though awaiting welcome. He had changed his crimson robe for plain black, so reminiscent of Monarch that I smiled.
‘That’s better,’ I said. ‘You look more like yourself.’
‘Do I not usually look like myself?’ He came in, closing the door behind him. He looked different without Hatsukoi, without his knives and his armour, his head unadorned by the crown that had changed everything.
‘Not always like the man I remember.’
‘Monarch? Do you prefer him to Katashi?’
I considered him, watching the smile hover about his lips. ‘I think I know him better.’
‘Then I’m glad I wore my black tonight, Regent,’ he said.
Katashi crossed the floor, every graceful step part of his dance with the world — slow, intricate, bewitching. Immediately at home, he prowled the room, stirring coals in the brazier and plucking a chestnut from the remains of my dinner. He crunched it between strong teeth, and looked down at the chest of robes Kin had given me.
‘The Usurper gives fine gifts, I see,’ he said, stroking the exposed sleeve of a blue robe covered in tiny silver blossoms. ‘When your hair grows back you will look stunning in this one, my dear. When is the wedding to be? Somehow, I don’t think I will be invited.’
‘Katashi!’
‘Am I in error? Does a woman often accept gifts from a man she has no intention of marrying?’
‘I had nothing to wear.’
‘Oh? The uniform of a Pike was not good enough for you?’
I felt heat steal into my cheeks; a heat that was always close to the surface in his presence. ‘They ripped them.’
That stopped him mid-sneer. ‘Ripped them?’
‘When I was in the Pit, before they knew I was a woman.’
‘But they found out.’
‘They did rip my clothes.’
The rest did not need saying. ‘Did they hurt you?’ he asked, striding quickly toward me. ‘If they hurt you I will make sure I hurt them more. I’ll skin them and burn them alive if they so much as touched you.’
‘Bumps and bruises only,’ I said, trying not to think of how battered I had looked for days after.
Katashi seemed satisfied. He took no further interest in the chest, but I could feel Kin’s presence looming over us. Katashi didn’t seem to notice, just stroked my cheek with his thumb, his sharp blue eyes roaming my face.
‘I can see why he wanted to marry you,’ he said at last. ‘You look like your mother. I remember my father telling me that Kin was infatuated with her. Many men were.’
The sash Kin had given me lay buried beneath the robes. Though it felt traitorous, I had kept it, unable to part with so precious a validation of my family. Perhaps he had given it to me for my mother’s sake. Disliking the thought, I changed the subject.
‘How was your meeting?’ I asked. ‘How did the traitor generals take the news that the
ir old emperor still lives?’
‘They brazened through it,’ he said, dropping his hand. ‘Manshin talked much about having been loyal to the Otakos since he was a “babe unborn”. Roi was shocked, but he’ll follow where the others lead.’
‘And their men?’
‘I’m not worried about them. Disobedience is a death sentence.’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘Don’t like what, sweet Hana?’
‘I don’t like relying on the loyalty of men who can shift their allegiance without a blink. What’s to stop them breaking another oath the moment their best interests lie outside the Otako cause?’
Katashi chuckled. ‘You ought to have been born a man.’
‘Yes, I think so,’ I agreed. ‘Have you seen the women of your court?’
‘Yes. Why? What is wrong with them?’
‘They are like preening peacocks dressed in their family’s wealth. They wear purple robes and ought to stoop under the weight of so much gold. There is not one of them that does not paint her face and curl her hair, and their robes dip so far down their backs they look like whores.’
‘You are very severe upon your own sex.’
‘They’re all fools, giggling and simpering and flattering you wherever you go.’
‘Where you would rather talk tactics.’ Katashi touched my hair, curling one short lock around his finger. ‘None of them have hair like you. I kept a curl when I cut it, did you know that?’
He stepped closer, his warmth radiating like glowing coals. ‘We’ll take Kisia back,’ he said, his breath teasing past my ear. ‘We’ll send out raiding parties to harry his battalions. Kin won’t know what hit him.’ His cheek touched mine, warm, smooth, not rough as Monarch’s had always been. ‘They’ll pick off his men,’ he whispered. ‘One by one, until their morale is so low they’re jumping at shadows.’
His hand traced my hipbone from front to back, sliding along silk. ‘We’ll cut the Willow Road and take The Valley. That’s next season’s harvest.’
Warm lips caressed my ear and I shivered. ‘Then,’ he said, a groan in his voice as he threaded fingers through my hair. ‘Mei’lian.’
The tip of his nose traced my jaw and every breath was full of his scent, potent, intoxicating. Monarch. His arm around my waist, his lips searched for mine. ‘Hana.’ My name was a sigh, dancing at the edge of a kiss.
Katashi pressed against me, hard beneath his linen. I had never felt a man’s lust before, and fright sent my heart racing, barely resting between beats. My entire knowledge of sex had come from watching whores perched upon the laps of grinning Pikes.
Katashi pulled away. He breathed deeply, eyes half closed, lips glistening. His fingers found my sash. Unable to speak, I let him untie the knot, my thoughts turning with unstoppable speed. He seemed to have no thoughts at all, his hands as steady as if he was working free a snag in a horse’s rein.
‘Katashi–’
‘Shh,’ he hushed me. ‘There’s no need to tremble, I’ll be gentle with you.’
My silk sash coiled as it fell to the floor, light winking off its shimmering threads. My robe followed, and suddenly exposed, I whipped my hands up to cover my breasts. I had seen so many whores with heavy flesh that I knew he could not want a body so small and boyish, but Katashi just chuckled and brushed my arms aside.
His black sash joined mine, then his robe sighed onto the floor. He was magnificent. Every muscle looked as though it had been carved from his flesh; powerful thighs and broad shoulders, his skin weathered gold. Touching him was like pressing against sun-warmed stone.
I knelt on the sleeping mat. There had been no words, but Katashi didn’t need them, his body more eloquent than any voice. Guided by his hands, I lay down. Again he peeled away my protective hands, placing them at my sides before he sat back, appreciative. My heart beat so fast I felt sick. I needed a moment to think, to calm myself, but with a hand on each knee, Katashi parted my legs.
A kiss on my neck then my collarbone, each little more than a breath. Fingers parted me and I tensed, as excited as I was afraid. I tried to control my shaking hands, fingertips flitting over his hair and onto his shoulders. Katashi didn’t seem to notice. He just took himself in hand, and leaning over me, guided himself in.
I gasped, biting my lip so hard I broke the skin. The taste of blood filled my mouth, but it didn’t seem to matter when he caused me such pain. Not seeing, not stopping, he pressed deeper. I tried to concentrate on his weight and the warmth of his skin, but every shred of desire seemed to have abandoned me. He kept moving. Pain gave way to a terrible numbness. Never had I been so close to anyone, but though he filled me, though I could taste his every breath, I felt no more a part of the scene than my shadow moving upon the wall.
I tried to think of Monarch, striding through our camp, talking, laughing, his hand on Hatsukoi’s string. And that irresistible dimple. It wasn’t there now, his features set in a frown of concentration. I searched for his scent, trying to catch hold of the man I knew, but I could not find it. There was Katashi, clean and silken, but every trace of Monarch was gone.
His pace quickened. I tugged hard at my hair, trying to wake myself up. My fantasies had never ended like this when I touched myself in the darkness of my tent, listening to the screams of practised whores. There had always been more than aching flesh and a desire for the finish. I had seen the Pikes lie with women, a tangle of limbs writhing in pleasure, but all I could do was wait, fighting the urge to cry.
The end came soon enough. Katashi threw back his head. A deep groan parted his lips and he pressed into me, his fingers gripping the pillow like claws. Breathing fast, he bowed his head, huffing onto my hot skin, his hair tracing lines across my chest.
Katashi slid out of me. He sat back, sweat sticking loose strands of hair to his temples, his cheeks suffused with colour. Smiling faintly, he looked exactly how I had imagined all the heroes from my childhood stories. Tin Tian had been blessed with just such a jaw; Tikoto Toshi with his dancing cats had always had Katashi’s bright blue eyes, and even those heavy brows had been part of Juno of Ji’lin’s imaginary face. And in his own way Katashi was just like them, just as insubstantial.
Comfortable with his nakedness, he rose and went to retrieve his robe. He didn’t look back at me, just knelt to gather it from the floor, leaving mine where it had fallen
Fluid leaked from me. I clamped my thighs tightly together, ashamed, and looked longingly toward the bath. With his back to me, Katashi began to dress. It might easily have been Kin standing there; Kin who had just finished with me and was preparing to leave. Would he have dressed with his back to me? Or faced me, that familiar scowl upon his features?
Katashi turned, tugging tight the knot of his sash. I had thought to see change, but he just smiled his usual lop-sided grin, and I smiled back, glad he couldn’t read my mind.
‘Shall I call for your maid?’ he asked, almost as an afterthought.
‘No, thank you.’
He came and knelt at my side, crisp linen once again covering his strong body. It was a gentle, lingering kiss he placed upon my lips; the kiss I had always imagined. But the dream was gone.
He pulled away. ‘Good night, Hana,’ he said, and I saw a smile for him, not me, that single dimple laughing at a world of fools in thrall to him.
‘Good night.’
Before he left, Katashi patted my cheek as though I were a child, and striding to the door he did not once glance back before it slid closed behind him.
For a long time I lay still. My whole body ached, every muscle tense and tired. I looked again toward the bath. It wouldn’t be hot, but I could clean myself, could wash away the memory of his hands. I didn’t move. I wanted to curl into a ball and pull the quilt over my head, never to move again, but that would be weak and childish. I had been both.
The last few weeks had proved that. And now Katashi had slipped away from me, no longer the man I had thought him but a myth, a legend, the paper cut-out of a god nailed to a shrine.
Refusing to let my tears fall, I pulled myself up and made it to the bath. The water was tepid. I shivered as I slid into its embrace, but began to scrub myself clean, inside and out. While my hands worked I stared at nothing, thoughts coming and going like slugs. Then Tili was there, her pretty face creased with worry.
‘My lady? Are you all right? You should have called for me if you wished to bathe again. That water is like ice! Let me fetch you fresh.’
I said nothing and she dashed out, returning with half a dozen maids carrying steaming jugs. Hot water swirled around me, and like a bear waking from hibernation, I felt my body come back to life.
While the other maids bowed themselves out, Tili fussed around the room without uttering a word. First she picked up my robe and hung it by the bath, no doubt hoping the steam would smooth its creases. They looked beyond saving, but she spoke no word of censure, asking instead if I was quite warm enough.
Moving on, Tili tried to straighten the sleeping mat, but soon gave up and took it away altogether. I watched her remove the quilt and roll the mat, marching out without a word. She returned with a new mat, fresh bedding and a night robe she had taken to warm in the kitchens. It smelt faintly of rice, homely and comforting. Tili brought fresh flowers, too, throwing the old ones pragmatically out the window.
I grabbed the edge of the wooden tub and Tili was there instantly, holding a linen towel. She wrapped it around me, rubbing my shoulders like a mother calming a child. ‘Come, my lady,’ she said as my tears welled. ‘Come have some tea.’
A pot sat steeping upon a lap table, and having dressed, I sipped a cup while Tili combed my hair. Slowly, tears began to run down my cheeks.
