I peer over the edge, trying to ignore the shaky feeling in my legs. The wind buffeting me from three directions doesn’t help. I see a few ledges on the way down—four of them, I count. They should offer a chance to rest.
At least we have a lot of rope.
“Get the rope off these catapults.” I gather three coils, knot them together, and tie the end to a sturdy boulder. I double-check each knot and then check them a third time. After that I tie a second shorter rope around my waist and affix that to the boulder as well—this one will catch me if I slip. The flour jars, I cram into a sack at my waist along with several more lengths of rope to use on the way down.
I grin at Karu. “Ready to climb?”
“No one has ever accused you of being too cautious,” she says, dusting off her hands.
I lead the way, grabbing ahold of the rope and backing up toward the edge. “Neju help me,” I mutter, and step off.
I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but the wind picks up as soon as I’m hanging in midair. The rock face is slippery below my feet, and the rope feels far too thin for such an enormous task. I keep my eyes straight ahead and lower myself hand over hand. The rope swings wildly from side to side, and the sky tilts. Don’t look down. Don’t look around. When my feet touch the first shelf, I pull myself in and take a long, shaky breath. Then I put my back against the rock face. The view of the ocean is impressive, but somehow I’m not in the mood to enjoy it. I tie a second safety rope to an outcropping here, and untie the first one to be pulled up by Karu.
It gets easier as I get farther down, though my arms start to ache. Granted, I’d be just as dead falling from the top of the cliff as from the middle, but it’s still a much less nausea-inducing view. Finally, I touch down on solid ground and wait for my stomach to settle. Karu follows, and a very pale Gaumit arrives just moments before sunset. We’re in a bamboo thicket, only a few dozen steps from the beach.
“What now?” Gaumit asks.
And here’s the hard part. There’s no good way to get onto the emperor’s private ship. He has far too many soldiers guarding him. Swimming is out of the question in these waters, and taking a boat, even if we had one, would get us shot out of the water.
I turn to Karu. “You still have the emperor’s seal that you took from Vidarna, right?”
She produces it from her bag.
“Let’s see how far that seal can get us.” I glance around. “I saw a rowboat on the beach.”
“We’re not going to row right up to the ship, are we?” says Gaumit.
“Have a little faith in me.”
I whistle for Slicewing to scout, and then we make our way onto the narrow expanse of sand. The rowboat I saw earlier sits at the high tide line. I glance around, making sure it’s dark enough to hide us from Kiran’s ship, then run over to the boat. It’s a fairly standard vessel with two benches stretched across the middle. I take out my earthen jars and wedge them underneath the seats.
“They’ll search us before letting us on board, so we’ll have to stash these where we can grab them after we’re searched. Put yours along the path the boat will take when it’s dragged back into the ocean,” I say. “Your best guess for where you’d be able to get to it.”
Karu buries hers in the sand so that all but the tops are hidden. Gaumit wades into the ocean and ties his jars to some submerged rocks. Slicewing gives a warning call then, and we hurry back into the bamboo thicket.
“Leave anything you’re attached to over here,” I say, and start piling my weapons on the ground, though I hang on to my knives.
Slicewing gives another warning call, and I see two soldiers coming down the beach. One bears a torch. Neju help us. I raise my hands in the air and step into view as Karu and Gaumit follow my lead. The soldiers immediately draw their weapons.
“We have a message for Emperor Kiran,” I say. “Vidarna sent us, and we bear the emperor’s seal as proof.”
The Amparans approach us warily. “Let me see the seal,” says the torchbearer. I do my best to project confidence as I hand it over. He takes it and inspects it on all sides.
I hold my breath.
The torchbearer gives a curt nod. “I’ll signal the ship.”
The other Amparan keeps a close eye on us as the torchbearer steps out toward the water and waves his torch in a signaling code I recognize from Neju’s Guard. Lights from the ship wink back.
After a while, a longer rowboat lowers onto the water from the ship and glides toward us. I count five soldiers on board. Their leader wears the sash of a commander, though I don’t recognize him.
“Are you sure the seal is authentic?” he asks the torchbearer as he steps out onto the sand.
The torchbearer hands him the seal, and the commander inspects it much as before.
“Vidarna was injured in the fighting,” I say, “so he sends us in his stead.”
Once again, we’re subject to scrutiny. “Everyone who sees the emperor must remove his weapons,” says the commander. He signals one of his soldiers to pat us down. The bastard finds both the knives in my boots and confiscates them. I see him take a dagger from Gaumit as well. When we’ve been inspected to the commander’s satisfaction, he nods. “Come with us.”
I’m kicking myself now for hiding my earthen jars in the other boat. Still, there are four more we might be able to get. Karu walks ahead of me, and I see her angling herself toward the jars she buried. I catch up with her, and as we near the jars, I trip.
“Agh!” I spit out a mouthful of sand and let out a string of curse words that raises a few eyebrows. Karu crouches down to help me, and I climb back to my feet, still cursing loudly.
“Watch yourself,” says the Amparan commander.
“Sorry,” I mutter. In the corner of my eye, Karu sneaks something underneath her tunic.
In the boat, it’s us plus the five Amparan soldiers who came over on the vessel. I sit at the stern and watch as Gaumit casually leans over the edge and tries to grab a jar he’d tied to the rocks. It slips through his fingers and bobs on the water toward me. I’m about to make a grab for it when I notice the commander watching. There’s nothing to do but watch the jar float away.
I’m trying my best not to gouge holes in the boat with my nails as we move into deeper water. We have no weapons and only one rose plague jar. How are we going to keep the jar hidden until we’re in the same room as Kiran?
“Is Vidarna alive?” asks the commander from the prow.
“Alive, but too wounded to travel,” I say. “Took an arrow in his thigh.”
“And why send three of you in his place?”
“To make sure we convey the message correctly.”
“I see,” says the commander.
And then he draws his sword and slices Karu across the throat.
It happens so quickly that I don’t have time to scream. Karu pitches over, her blood spilling onto the deck. I dive forward just in time to avoid getting decapitated by the soldier next to me and land next to Karu. She’s facedown and twitching, and there’s no time to think. I feel around her midsection until my fingers close around a jar. As the commander swings his sword again, I dive over the side of the boat.
Ice-cold water squeezes the air out of my lungs. The salt hurts my eyes. I can’t see a thing, but I dive deeper down until I can’t hold my breath any longer, and then I kick my way back up. I get a mouthful of seawater the moment my head breaks through. The ocean’s surface dips and rolls. I can’t feel my limbs.
I’ve gone farther than I expected. The rowboat is in chaos, and I can’t tell if Gaumit is still alive. I turn my head to look for Kiran’s ship and get another wall of salt water in my face. I go under again, my nose and windpipe burning, and it’s all I can do to kick my way up to the surface. As I cough and sputter, I remember the earthen jar. By some miracle, I’m still holding it.
The shadow of Kiran’s ship looms in the distance. It’s far, but closer than the shore. Tucking the jar under my arm, I swim toward it.
At least the waves help. Each swell pushes me closer. After a while, I stop trying to swim and just let the current take me. As the boat looms higher, I keep my head low and kick to adjust my direction. If I miss it on the first pass, swimming back against the current would be a lot harder.
As the next swell pushes me forward, I reach with my free hand for a span of netting along the side of the boat. My fingers close around a rough, slippery strand, and my arm nearly gets wrenched out of its socket as the current tries to carry me past. Gritting my teeth, I haul myself up the netting. The wind hits me like a thousand darts, and I will myself to move faster.
The boat pitches back and forth as I climb one-handed up the side. My fingers are so numb I can hardly feel the net, but somehow, I keep grabbing, and finally throw myself over the rail to find myself near the stern of the ship. Crates of messenger pigeons line the walkway, labeled with the destinations they were trained for. As two soldiers run at me, I grab one of the pigeon crates and throw it at them, then duck and slam into the first soldier’s legs so he stumbles back into his comrade. In the confusion, I wrestle his knife from his belt and run him through. As he falls, I yank out the dagger and throw it at the other soldier. The blade embeds itself in his neck.
There’s a door at the end of the walkway. I yank it open and step in, slamming it shut behind me and pulling the bolt. Of the six men in this room, five have weapons drawn. I hold the jar over my head. “Come any closer and I smash this against the wall.”
Everyone freezes. I catch a better glimpse of the soldiers and the man they’re guarding. Emperor Kiran looks as I remembered, young and strong, with his father’s wide mouth and heavy brows. He wears military garb, even though he’s currently sitting behind a large desk. I see a flash of recognition in his eyes.
“I took this from your catapults,” I say to Kiran, still holding the jar high. “You recognize this, don’t you, Your Imperial Majesty? If your men come near me, I will dust this room with the plague.”
Kiran scrutinizes me. “Dineas, the Shidadi traitor. I lent you a handkerchief once to bandage your dying friend. Do you remember?”
“I do, Your Majesty. And then you invaded my homeland.”
“And now you’re here to save your homeland,” he says. His voice is strong and his accent refined, as an emperor’s should be. “That’s brave of you, but misguided. You’ll never make it out of this room alive.”
“It’d be worth it,” I say.
Kiran doesn’t blink. “Your jar of flour won’t go very far here,” he says. “It’s meant to be thrown and broken high up in the air. It won’t do much if my men simply shoot you and it drops. It might not even shatter.”
“That might be true,” I say. “Or perhaps your men will miss, or I will not die right away. And I’ll lob it to the ceiling with my dying breath.”
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want your men to signal to shore a command for all your troops to retreat. And I want an edict, signed with your seal, sent to Sehmar City announcing that you grant independence to Monyar Peninsula.”
The signal is fleeting, almost impossible to see. It’s a mere lift and twist of Kiran’s fingers, and he doesn’t even look away from me. But I see his guard shift his weight and it’s just enough time to react. When the man rushes me, I dodge to one side and kick his legs out from under him. He crashes to the floor. I dart forward and grab a stone paperweight off Kiran’s desk. Now I lift it up along with the jar, one in each hand.
“I wouldn’t try that again, Your Majesty. I’m closer now.”
Indeed, it’s a big desk, but if I leaned over, I’d be able to touch him. He sits back in his chair, his eyes trained on me. I wish I could see more fear in them, but all I see is calculation.
“Are you really ready to die, Dineas?” he asks. “This could go differently. I could give you my seal and a letter to one of the outpost treasuries. You could live out the rest of your life a rich man in Mishikan.”
I move the jar and the weight away from each other, giving myself distance to smash them together. “You know nothing of our people if you think you can bribe me.”
Kiran doesn’t reply.
“My patience grows thin, Your Majesty,” I say.
Maybe Kiran sees something in my eyes, because he turns to one of his guards. “Send a torch signal to shore to stop the attack, and fetch a pigeon to Sehmar.”
“Have the torchbearer stand where I can see him through the window, and have him relay the message right away. If there’s any hint of another message being relayed out of my sight, I break the jar.” I add, “Also, be sure you bring back a pigeon trained for Sehmar. If it’s the wrong one, I break the jar.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Kiran’s face, and the first hint of doubt.
“I was an Amparan soldier, Your Imperial Majesty. I know your protocols.”
Every muscle in my body is taut as Kiran’s soldier leaves the cabin to relay the emperor’s message. It’s nerve-wracking, watching the message relayed outside as I try to keep an eye on the soldiers inside, but nobody tries anything stupid. I jump when the door to the cabin opens again, but it’s just Kiran’s guard, and he brings a pigeon I recognize from the Sehmar City cage.
“Your man did well,” I tell Kiran. Once the torch message is sent, soldiers onshore will relay it to the army through pigeons or drums. “Now I need your edict for Sehmar City.”
Kiran glares at me, but he reaches for a piece of parchment and writes the edict in a deliberate, fine script. He pushes it across his desk for me to inspect. One of his men tries to move toward me as I read, and I raise the jar in warning.
“Now stamp it with your seal,” I say.
Kiran hesitates.
“Do it now.”
He drips candle wax on the parchment and stamps it with his ring. Then, after another warning glare from me, he ties it to the pigeon’s foot.
The door slams open, and someone comes barreling toward me, knocking me off my feet. My attacker—my very large attacker—falls on top of me, knocking the air out of my lungs. As I struggle to breathe, the man wrestles the jar out of my hand, then punches me in the stomach. Gods, the man can punch. Gagging, I blink the tears from my eyes and look straight up into Walgash’s face.
Walgash? I stare at him, too shocked to move. Why is he here? I steel myself for a second blow, but he climbs off me. Umbertouched soldiers swarm around him and haul me to my feet. As I strain against their grips, General Arxa walks in.
Though the general stands with the support of the doorframe, his eyes burn with rage that’s anything but weak. I back up despite myself, only to bump into the men holding me. Emperor Kiran watches and smirks.
“Why are you here, Dineas?” Arxa asks.
“Same reason as before, General. I want to free my people.”
Arxa looks at the pigeon in Kiran’s hand. He takes it from the emperor and reads the edict attached to the bird’s foot. I try to swallow the stone in my chest, the urge to scream my rage. So close. I’d been so close.
Then Arxa rolls up the message, ties it to the pigeon, and releases the bird out the window.
“Arxa,” says Kiran, and now I see true doubt in his eyes.
But Arxa ignores him. When the emperor’s soldiers move toward the general, Arxa’s troops push themselves in front of their commander.
Arxa turns to me. “There is a rowboat next to this ship with my men on it. They will row you to shore.”
I gape at him.
“Do you hear me, Dineas?”
“I heard what you said, Commander.” What kind of game is he playing?
“Do you know me for a liar, Dineas?”
“No, sir.” That “sir” still comes out so easily.
“Then go before I change my mind.”
I don’t need to be told again. I catch a glimpse of Walgash as I edge toward the door—wildhaired, dangerous, his fist clenched. I can still feel the imprint of his knuckles in my stomach. At any moment, I expect A
rxa to spring his trap, to signal his soldiers to execute me, but no one moves.
At the door, I turn to Walgash once more. “I told you my blood was Shidadi,” I say. “But I wish you well, Walgash. I always have.”
He stares me down. And then he jerks his chin toward the door. “Watch the threshold,” he says.
I don’t tempt fate by staying any longer.
Arxa’s soldiers don’t speak to me as they row me to shore. I’m pretty sure Arxa’s command is the only thing keeping them from throwing me into the ocean. Still, they deliver me safely, and I wade onto land. I can’t wrap my mind around what happened. Why did Arxa let me go? Why did he let Kiran’s message leave the ship when he could have simply put the pigeon back in its cage? Saving his life doesn’t seem like enough of a favor for him to betray his emperor so completely.
Once on the beach, I find and destroy the jars of plague we’d left there. Then I retrieve my weapons. Guilt overtakes me when I see that Gaumit’s things are still there. He’s likely dead, then, like Karu. I take Karu’s gear, leaving Gaumit’s in the slim chance that he’s alive, and set out to find a way back to camp.
The return journey is much longer than the journey down, since I can’t very well climb up the cliff. I walk south from the beach to find a passable trail up the ridge, but I only make it an hour before the last few days catch up to me, and I’m barely able to find an alcove in the mountainside before I collapse. It’s evening by the time I wake.
Eventually I come across the path taken by the umbertouched battalion. It’s pretty hard to miss the hoofprints and trampled ground that mark their passage. As I climb, I find several more bundles of rose plague flour, which I promptly burn.
It takes me two days to get to the place where we staged our ambush of the umbertouched battalion. Burned bamboo fragments lie strewn around the path, and again, there’s no one here. I sprint to the top of the ridge and take my first glimpse of the camp below.
Umbertouched Page 27
