The Dragon Songs Saga: The Complete Quartet: Songs of Insurrection, Orchestra of Treacheries, Dances of Deception, and Symphony of Fates

by JC Kang

The real missing pages of the book likely held the answers. However, it was unlikely she would see Rumiya—Girish—again, let alone convince him to give her the real song. Kaiya was on her own, with only four days to figure out those answers and get to Palimur in time to save the city and its people.

  CHAPTER 45:

  Checkmate

  Prince Dhananad held his chin high as he sauntered through the ranks of Paladins guarding the entrance of Cathayi embassy. Even if they knew he was behind the attack on the princess, they would not dare touch him with the proverbial flag of diplomacy fluttering above his head. Two of his Golden Scorpions marched behind him. He imagined them grinning beneath their masks, their very presence a taunt to the Paladin Order that abandoned them.

  His third Scorpion, the pretty girl, whatever her name was, walked at his side, shedding her maroon kurta and mask for a sari. Her beauty would make Princess Kaiya jealous.

  Because no matter what the Altivorc King and his yes-men said, Dhananad would win the princess over. The dinner tonight would help her remember his charm and seal their betrothal.

  Cathayi Ambassador Ling greeted him with hands pressed together and guided him through the first house into an adjacent building. Servants knelt beside the double doors, on which two long scrolls hung.

  Though the wavy script might have been gibberish, it felt as if someone had lodged a spear of ice down his spine when he looked at it. His knees wobbled and hands trembled. When the doors opened, he had to gasp for air.

  He turned slightly to see one of his Scorpions through the corner of his eye, likewise quivering. With a deep breath, he stepped into an anteroom.

  Princess Kaiya waited there, the long sleeves of her translucent outer gown hanging to the floor. Jade jewels pinned up her hair. The pink inner gown, stitched with white plum flowers, exposed her delicate collarbones, while accentuating the perfect divot at the base of her neck. It just barely hinted at the softness of her bust. Even her austere choli from a week before had revealed more.

  The impertinent little maid stood by her side, looking no thinner from the punishment the princess had promised. She locked eyes with his companion, and both reached for their hips. He shifted his head from one girl to another, enjoying the duel of their razor-sharp gazes.

  The princess bent slightly at her waist, and Dhananad stole a glance at the luscious valley between her breasts.

  “Greetings, Prince Dhananad,” she said, voice as placid as the Shallowsea. “Please be my guest tonight, in appreciation for your hosting me a week ago.”

  Dhananad clasped his hands together. “Thank you for your hospitality, My Orchid. I hope that after what promises to be a delectable Cathayi meal, we can conclude our discussion from last time.”

  She raised a perfect eyebrow, playing coy confusion. Such a cute girl. “Of course. I also invited some friends to share dinner with us, since it would be a waste to share our best cuisine with just one person. I hope you do not mind.”

  Friends? It was supposed to be a private dinner. Dhananad kept his expression jovial nonetheless. “Certainly not! It is always enjoyable to share a meal with many. Though I would have far rather had you all to myself.” For the first several months. After that, perhaps other beauties could join them.

  She smiled demurely and motioned for him to follow as she glided through the doors. He kept his eyes fixed on the elegant sashay of her hips.

  His Scorpion drew in a sharp breath.

  Dhananad looked up and raked his gaze across the room to find friendly grins on the faces of those he would not consider friends.

  Fire raged in his face, but he remained silent as Princess Kaiya gestured toward a rectangle of embroidered silk cushions, each with a small table in front of it. The maharaja and queen from each of the three largest Ayuri Confederation states sat on one side, and three Paladin elders in white kurtas on the other. Most galling was the presence of the exiled old maharaja of Ankira and his plump queen near the head.

  Princess Kaiya guided him to a cushion across from the Ankirans, next to her at the head of the table. Was it a place of honor in their culture? Or subservience?

  He hesitantly sat. His own girl Scorpion stared at the floor, turning her head so her cascading hair screened her face from the Paladins. They, in turn, whispered among themselves.

  The princess had such poor taste in guests. Things couldn’t get much more awkward. With a wave of her open hand, she motioned for food to be served. Servants hurried in and out, bringing in trays filled with aromatic foods on exquisitely thin white porcelain dishes.

  She gestured toward the first dish: a soup, made of a fish stock and soybean paste, with bean curd cubes and seaweeds, garnished with chopped green onions. “This simple soup was a favorite of my ancestor, Wang Xinchang, who founded Cathay as you know it today. He served this on the occasion of his first great alliance with the elf Lord Xu on Haikou Island, sealing their security pact. Tonight, our cook used seaweed from the Shallowsea around which Madura and the Ayuri Confederation lie.”

  Dhananad turned the porcelain spoon over in his hands, his heart racing. Sealing of security pacts suggested she had already decided on marriage! His rivals must have been sweating!

  A porridge of black rice and golden grain, split in half to resemble the Cathay yin-yang symbol, came next. “We call this Yin-Yang Porridge: it symbolizes the fusion of the disparate elements of nature,” she said. “In Cathay, we prefer to use a special short-grain rice grown in the southern province of Yutou, with millet from the northern province of Dongmen to signify the unity of disparate places. Today, we have chosen a black rice grain from my home province of Huayuan, and wheat grains from Dabura.”

  Daburan wheat? Though the servant offered a new spoon, Dhananad’s fingers would not loosen around the first. If the princess was serious about marriage, she would have used Maduran wheat.

  Heavier dishes began arriving. Servants brought in a large steamed fish with a reddish skin, covered with ginger, scallions, and peppercorns, and garnished with fruit slices. From the middle of the rectangle, they carved up individual portions and presented them to each guest. And what was this? The Ankirans were served first! They wondered at the straight sticks supposedly used for eating. Others struggled with the awkward utensils as they ate.

  “A whole fish symbolizes prosperity,” the princess said. “When served among new friends, it represents the hope that by working together in harmony, we will reap bountiful rewards.”

  Reaping bounties. Perhaps a child who would rule Madura and Cathay. Soon, soon enough Dhananad would need to start the arduous work of making that baby. In his excitement, he fumbled with the bizarre sticks the Cathayi used to eat with.

  Then, a roasted turkey, skin brown and crispy and permeating the room with a savory aroma, was placed in the middle of the rectangle, its head pointing at Dhananad. Exotic squashes and root vegetables ringed the bird. It smelled wonderful, but such a hideous face staring at him! Surely this was inappropriate! Servants began slicing it.

  “To us,” the princess said, “chickens represent opportunity, and it would typically be served on such an auspicious occasion. But today, we were very lucky to find this wild turkey from a Kanin merchant. In our language, we refer to it as a wild fire chicken, and we dip it in a tangy sauce made from its own juices. To us, it means that if we wildly grasp for all opportunities, we will end up consuming ourselves in our own passions.”

  What? Dhananad almost snapped the chopsticks in his hands. Was the princess insulting him? The symbolism of the turkey left little ambiguity. Maybe she was not considering marriage, maybe all of these enemies—

  A sliced barbecued pork loin, with a pungent sauce, came last, surrounded by stir-fried leafy greens. It was a commoner’s dish, well below the expectation of royalty.

  Princess Kaiya smiled. “Late in the Yu Dynasty, before the Hellstorm, the armies of Cathay defeated a small army led by an Arkothi Empire general who invaded and occupied some of our land. Far from the capital, t
he soldiers feasted on barbecued pork provided by the local farmers who were happy to be freed from the tyranny of that general.”

  Normally, the aroma would make his mouth water; but his appetite had fled. She was comparing him to a tyrant. Dhananad turned his nose up, not deigning to taste the pork.

  As the distinguished guests finished the main course, the princess motioned for the dessert, it too bearing an unsubtle message: cut melons from each of the nations of the Ayuri Confederation, mixed together, lay in the hollowed rind of a Maduran melon.

  Dhananad stared at the bowl. All of them, filling Madura. The Altivorc King had been right. The girl had set a diplomatic trap for him. The identity of the guests alone sent the explicit message that Madura’s neighbors stood against it; the blatant selection of dishes, delectable as they probably would have been under different circumstances, had merely hammered home her point.

  He blanched. The only uncertainty he held was whether Madura faced imminent invasion, or if his rivals had merely formed a defensive alliance.

  Kaiya watched Prince Dhananad from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t the only one not enjoying their meal. The Golden Scorpion woman, stunning in the rust-colored sari that complemented her light brown skin, demurred. The ruthless warrior who’d nearly killed her Insolent Retainer now looked less like a daunting foe than an ashamed and embarrassed young girl who had just been castigated by her parents.

  Coming from a culture that emphasized proper etiquette, even when treating with enemies, Kaiya worried she’d overreached with her message. Prince Dhananad held his lips tight, his expression reminiscent of her own seasickness on the Invincible. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, careful to keep any hint of malice out of her tone. “Prince Dhananad, are you not well?”

  “Unfortunately, I am afraid that something has not agreed with me,” he answered in a low voice. “I will have to retire early tonight.”

  She’d gone too far. It would reflect poorly on Cathay. “And our talks that were to conclude tonight?”

  The prince raised his voice. “I believe you have made your position abundantly clear. But know now that Madura will not suffer an invasion quietly. Those who dare tread on Maduran soil uninvited will meet the Scorpion’s sting!”

  Kaiya leaned back, hand on her chest. Nothing in the choreographed dinner party had been meant to suggest an invasion of Madura. “Prince Dhananad! Cathay is a peace-loving nation, we have no intention of infringing on Madura’s sovereign territory.”

  “Yet it is obvious you do not recognize the province of Ankira as an inseparable part of our nation.” The prince jabbed a finger in the direction of the Ankiran rebels.

  She lowered her hand from where she’d been twirling a lock of her hair. “It is my concern—and I imagine that of all those present today— that a certain dignity be afforded all people. I am concerned about the women living in Ankira who, at your behest, are subjected to the depravations of Bovyan soldiers and their country’s breeding program. I believe if you were to cease this cooperation with the Teleri, then your neighbors would think…more highly of you.”

  The prince leaped up and stormed out the room. The female Scorpion looked up for the first time that night, and then quickly dropped her head again as she staggered to her feet and shuffled out after him.

  The room fell silent. All attention turned to her, some in admiration, others in disbelief.

  The Queen of Ankira broke the silence, her eyes glinting. “What have you done? Have you sold us out?”

  Paladin Elder Kairav, who’d criticized her the day before, scowled. “You still have not learned to look beyond your own borders.”

  Kaiya fiddled with her hair. Jie placed a reassuring hand between her shoulder blades.

  Despite her embarrassment, she straightened her carriage. “Now that Prince Dhananad has seen that his neighbors oppose Maduran aggression, they will be more circumspect about meddling with any of us. I did this for the benefit of all.” She turned to the Ankiran queen, hoping to appease her. “I did what I could for you. It is beyond our capability to liberate Ankira. At the very least, there will be fewer Bovyan soldiers garrisoning your homeland in the future.”

  The queen climbed to her feet as quickly as age would allow and stomped out of the room. The one Paladin elder stood up and departed as well, leaving his two companions behind.

  Elder Devak afforded her a reassuring smile. “I believe you had the best intentions. I think you will prove it when you sing for Avarax in three days.”

  CHAPTER 46:

  Interview with Evil

  The enthusiastic twitter of birds roused Kaiya from a fitful slumber, one where she dreamed of Rumiya’s glowing blue eyes, snakes entangling her, and the gush of beating dragon wings. She sat up in her bed and dabbed the sweat from her neck and face. Looking down, she found Zheng Ming’s kerchief in her hand, damp with her perspiration.

  Despite her restless sleep, energy coursed through her limbs, at last recovered from Rumiya’s draining two days before. The fog clouding her mind had fully lifted and her focus returned.

  Jie’s chirpy voice mingled with the excited birds outside her window. “Dian-xia, good morning. Hurry, get dressed; the river barge for Palimur departs soon.”

  Images of her childhood nursemaid, now replaced by the half-elf, danced in Kaiya’s mind. Tucking the memory away, she smiled and kicked her legs over the side of the bed. She had little time to react when her Insolent Retainer tossed travelling clothes into her lap.

  As she tugged on the cotton pants and squirmed into the shirt, Jie chattered away nonstop. “The Paladins have assembled quite a flotilla to escort us. There will be a hundred knights and masters travelling as honor guard, though I am not sure Avarax will be impressed. Speaking of Avarax, I talked with Minister Yi, my Moquan brother, last night. His hometown legends claim the dragon flew over the night of the Hellstorm.”

  Having just started to fasten her cloak, Kaiya paused. “If it was Avarax, why did he wait three centuries to reclaim his lands? He could have taken advantage of the Long Winter to seize more territory. Maybe it was another dragon.”

  “Avarax was the only survivor of the Dragonpurge.” Jie sucked on her lower lip.

  Kaiya finished pinning her cloak. “Then maybe it was just a fanciful story. There are so many legends and myths surrounding the Hellstorm.” She bound her voluminous hair into a pony tail and strode toward the door.

  Jie opened it, revealing Elder Devak with Sameer at his side. The young knight’s ear-to-ear grin suggested he was happy to rejoin them, after not having accompanied them to the Hua embassy the night before.

  Then his eyes fell on the Insolent Retainer. His jaw dropped. “Jie. It’s been a long time.”

  Jie grinned. “Not long enough. You’ve grown.”

  “In two years?”

  Kaiya looked from one to the other. There was a story here, one that would warrant a melodramatic novel given the unspoken conversation in their eyes.

  Clearing his throat, Elder Devak pressed his hands together. “Good morning. I am here to escort you to your boat. And to apologize.” He bowed his head lower.

  Kaiya had a good idea of what he was going to say next and stayed silent, waiting.

  “We knew of Avarax’s ultimatum and we still made you present your case before the elders. We also knew that Girish was once Rumiya, Grand Vizier of Madura, though we did not know he had visited you in the past. Otherwise, we would not have granted his demand to have us introduce him as Girish.”

  It was no use being angry. Kaiya returned his salute, pressing her hands together. “To save so many people, I would have chosen to sing, regardless of our agreement.”

  The elder’s lips twitched. “I believe you are well on your way to becoming the hero the Oracle foresees.” He then beckoned for her to follow.

  Hero? The Oracle had said nothing of the sort to her, nor did she want such a burden. A quiet life in a peaceful country seemed much more appealing. Her hand strayed t
o Zheng Ming’s kerchief in her sash. Maybe he would be part of that picture.

  Still, now wasn’t the time to think of love or marriage. A city depended on her. She looked up from her thoughts to see her five imperial guards, each on one knee before her.

  “Dian-xia,” Chen Xin said in the Hua tongue. “I object to this ill-conceived quest. It puts you in needless danger and gains nothing for Hua.”

  Kaiya had expected resistance from her loyal guards. “Chen Xin, is the Tianzi the Son of Heaven, who rules with the Mandate of Heaven?”

  Chen looked among his comrades before turning his gaze back. “Of course, Dian-xia.”

  “And the agreements he endorses are the Will of Heaven?”

  Chen Xin nodded.

  She lifted her chin. “I am the Granddaughter of Heaven, and negotiated with the full faith and backing of the Tianzi. My words are his.” It wasn’t exactly true, since only an imperial plaque— presumably carried on the Golden Phoenix—could unquestioningly represent the Tianzi’s word.

  The imperial guards looked among themselves, their lips pursed and brows furrowed.

  They weren’t convinced. She cleared her throat. “Chen Xin. Li Wei. Ma Jun. Zhao Yue. Xu Zhan. You are my senior-most guards. Some of you have protected me since I was a babe in my mother’s arms. I have trusted you with my safety. Will you trust me?”

  More dubious expressions. She continued anyway. “Ayana will whisk me away to safety if it looks like I will fail, though unfortunately, she will probably not be able to save you as well.”

  Smiles bloomed on their faces.

  Kaiya straightened her carriage. “We will go to Palimur, and you will protect me. That is my command.”

  The five guards lowered their heads in unison. “As you command, Dian-xia.”

  Countless Paladins greeted them outside of the Crystal Citadel, escorting them down to the river quays. Dockworkers and sailors finished preparing flat-bottomed barges, just wide enough for three men to sit abreast, for departure. A lizard the size of an elephant was hitched to each boat.