I frowned as I indulged him. “I, Rayyel aren dar Ikessar, heir to the Dragonthrone, hereby accuse my wife, Talyien aren dar Orenar, a traitor to the throne. She has transgressed and planted a false heir, the boy Thanh.” I paused, swallowing back the rage. “Until she is proven innocent and Prince Thanh is determined to be my own trueborn son, her title as Queen of Jin-Sayeng will not be recognized. She is to be detained and sent back to Shirrokaru by order of the council.” The letter was signed at the bottom.
Ojika spat. “The explanation,” he said.
“Rayyel is a bloody idiot,” I whispered.
“And so it begins.”
“Father—” Huan said.
Ojika shook his head. “I lose my son and this nation is in shambles,” he hissed. “A fine day, indeed.” He glanced up to see a guard walk in, another letter in hand. “What now?” he barked.
“Dai Kaggawa,” the guard murmured.
“What about that bastard?”
“He blames us for his daughter and demands that we return the queen to him.”
Ojika glanced at me. “Some ally you’ve got there.”
“He has my people,” I said. “I’d have no reason to return to him, otherwise. Are you a wise man, Warlord Ojika? Or has the gout eaten away what’s left of your brain?”
Ojika’s eyebrows shot up. “Spit it out, bitch.”
“Do you want my cooperation?”
“You are disgraced,” Ojika hissed. “Your cooperation means nothing. You read the note—you have to be sent to Shirrokaru, in chains if I have to. I don’t want the Ikessars on my back.”
“Father—” Huan repeated.
He turned to his son. “What?”
“A reminder of our loyalties,” Huan said in a low voice.
Ojika laughed. “Eikaro is dead. What can they do to us that they haven’t already done?” But a moment later, he frowned and turned back to me. “Kaggawa has your men. What else are you keeping from me? Why were you even with him in the first place?”
“He promised to save my son.”
“Because you knew this scandal was coming?”
“Because a Zarojo prince is on his way,” I said, “and the man intends to sit his rump on the Dragonthrone, consequences be damned.”
His eyes widened. I had expected him to ask me to explain myself, but instead he called for Captain Seo.
“When I return to court, I intend to contest my husband’s misgivings,” I continued. “There is no truth to the claim. The boy is Rayyel’s.”
Ojika stared at me with a measure of scrutiny. “Prince Rayyel seems pretty convinced. To have roused the council within the span of a few days…”
“The council is comprised of mostly Ikessars. They hold no love for me.”
“And so the mystery of the missing Dragonlords has been solved at last,” Ojika murmured. He was silent for a moment before turning to Captain Seo as he arrived. “Rouse the men. If Kaggawa thinks he can make such demands then he needs to be kicked down a notch. We attack at dawn.”
ACT THREE
The Price of a Crown
Chapter One
The Coin of Pride
Despair is a cliff in front of you while an army marches at your back. A broken sword in battle, a quiver with no arrows, a hangman’s noose. It is water in your lungs when all you want to do is breathe.
I had hoped that the morning after I received the news of Rayyel’s treachery would bring with it a measure of comfort. That the feel of sunlight while I lay back in a warm bed, after days of sleeping on hard ground in the company of dragons, might be enough to uplift my spirits. But it didn’t. I woke up to that dreaded weight of the knowledge that I had less than I thought I did. With scant few supporters and no title to my name, what did that make me?
What did that make my son?
The sunlight was starting to irritate me. I went up to draw the curtains shut before turning to stare at the bed. The clean sheets beckoned to me, tempting me to go back to sleep. And then I remembered last night’s dreams, the tangled blur of memories distorted beyond recognition, and decided against it.
There were two knocks at the door. I held my breath. “Come in,” I said, after a moment.
Huan stepped through the doorway like a man who wasn’t quite sure he was supposed to be there. I stared at him, wondering why I had thought it was someone else. Khine was at Dai’s.
“How are you doing?” he asked, scratching his neck.
“I am torn between wanting to shake Rayyel and demand why he would break his word or…shaking him harder and watching his head fall off.”
He gave a small grin. “Yes, well—I think we all know you’ve always felt that way about him. Did you sleep at all?”
“Some,” I admitted. “I was hoping for longer. Has your father changed his mind?”
Huan frowned. “You know he won’t.” He was unshaven and reeked slightly of drink.
I wrinkled my nose. “Drinking the night before a battle…”
“I’m aware of what it looks like,” he grumbled. He rubbed his nose. “But give this to me, my lady. My brother just died.”
I thought of Eikaro, tearing through the sky with his dragon-wings, and longed to tell Huan what had really transpired back there. But I had to respect Eikaro’s wishes, and at the state that Huan was in, I didn’t think the man would believe me.
“All the more reason for me to ride out with you,” I said. “You’re not in the right state of mind to do this alone.”
“Have you ever led a battle?”
“I’ve been in a few.”
Huan shook his head. “You’ve been accosted by bandits several times, I’ve been told. Not the same thing.”
“Reassure me, then, that you’ll prioritize getting my people out. That this all just isn’t Warlord Ojika’s ego reacting to Kaggawa’s arrogance.”
I was starting to learn that Huan was a bad liar. He stared at the ceiling, grumbling slightly to himself.
“Lord Anyu—” I growled.
“These people of yours…they’re just your guards, aren’t they? Servants?”
“My cousin, Nor—”
“An aron dar. Yes, I’m acquainted with her. None of them are worth risking your life over. Queen or not, your importance to this nation can’t be overstated. Even what you did for my brother was already a touch too far.” His face twitched as he spoke.
I came up to him. “Do you really believe it when you say these things?”
He stared at me, mouth half-open.
“You kept saying that I ought to have stayed behind and yet you never really did stop me. Your brother means something to you, Lord Huan—that much is clear to me. Outside of all these structures, our clans, our regions, we exist as people, don’t we? Forget these wolves, these falcons, civets, anchors, oxen…whatever images and words we use to give ourselves worth. Who we are, who we care for, that’s enough, isn’t it? Even if it doesn’t serve the nation?”
Huan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Lady Talyien. As royals, it is our duty to uphold the safety of Jin-Sayeng. Look at this man, Kaggawa. His actions the past few decades—his ambitions—they have been threatening this land for ages. Without that oxen strength of the Sougen royals, we would’ve cut him down early on. But your father told us to hold the peace.”
I looked up in surprise. “My father said that? Yeshin?”
“He said it would throw the land in disarray if we punished Kaggawa. By himself, he isn’t important, you understand. He is an alon gar, sure, but he isn’t exactly descended from the rice merchant families. Kaggawa is a name from Akki, a poor family, with nothing to call their own. But his half-brother through his mother, Goen alon gar Shoho, is heir to one of the oldest rice merchant families, and anything we do to Kaggawa would stir their ire.”
“So why attack now?” He drew away, and I reached out to grab his wrist. “Why attack now, Lord Huan? All I did was mention the Zarojo prince. What do you know that I don
’t?”
“Nothing,” Huan said. “That’s not a lie, Lady Talyien.”
I tightened my fingers around him. “It is. I know about Eikaro, Lord Huan. I know your obedience to my father was because he threatened to expose what Eikaro was to the land if you didn’t. So. The Zarojo prince. Were you in on that too? Did you know my father sold me to him before my betrothal to Rayyel?”
Huan shook his head. “I didn’t—I didn’t know that part. Believe me, Lady Talyien—I wouldn’t have asked to marry you otherwise.”
“A proposal which you quickly dropped. As soon as your father caught wind of it, perhaps?”
“I know nothing,” he repeated, painfully.
I relaxed my fingers, allowing him to slip away. He staggered back and then, without another word, opened the door and left. I considered running after him, but quickly considered that force would get me nowhere. I just hoped he wouldn’t get his fool head lopped off.
I sat back at the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. No more than a few minutes must’ve passed when I heard footsteps again. “Listen here, Anyu—” I began.
A woman stepped in. Tori, Eikaro’s wife. “Beloved Queen,” she said.
I grimaced. “Didn’t you hear? I’m not allowed to go outside.”
She wrung her hands over her swollen belly. “I heard what you did out there for my husband. How you tried to save him.”
“Tried,” I murmured. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“Lord Huan just left for the Kaggawa estate. I heard what you wanted. You understand that he cannot go against his father’s wishes.”
“The dilemma of the ages,” I said wryly.
She smiled. “But Warlord Ojika is not my father. Come.” Before I could recover from my surprise, she handed me my sword.
I followed her out the keep, flanked by guards marked with the Kyo-orashi crest in the red and orange of the Ishi clan. We went through a back alley, which led straight to a small gate, guarded by Yu-yan soldiers. They stepped aside as Tori passed by to unlock it, revealing a bare field overlooking several rice paddies. Cho stood waiting with two horses.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to Tori.
“My husband…” she began, placing one hand on her belly, where Eikaro’s unborn child slumbered.
I held my breath. Huan was easy enough. But I recognized that look of loss and terror in her eyes and realized that if she asked me outright, I would’ve found it difficult to maintain the lie.
But she shook her head instead. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Go, with Sakku and all the gods’ blessings.”
~~~
No rest, no respite.
The clouds swirled above us as we rode towards Dai’s estate. We took the side roads between the rice fields, not the main road where the Anyu army was marching through. It soon opened up to the riverbank, where I could soon see the dock behind Dai’s house.
“What’s the plan?” Cho asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Sneak around the back, try to break everyone free while they’re distracted?”
“Doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”
“You got anything better?”
He laughed, urging his horse faster. He enjoyed this sort of thing, the complete opposite of his brother—took relish in these mad rushes of faith. I think the entire situation back at the ridge had unhinged him. You needed that sometimes, when you have nothing else. I saw Cho’s face grow serious and turned my head from him to the single figure standing at the edge of the bank, seemingly waiting for us. The weight of the last few days fell away, replaced by relief that exploded like a warm hearth from deep inside.
I found myself dismounting from my horse. Khine walked up to me without a word, and I didn’t stop him as he held me with the strength of a man who thought he had lost me for good. As much of a betrayal as it seemed, it felt right to wrap myself up in his presence, to feel his lips on my head and the beat of his heart against my ear. Like I needed nothing beyond this, and the whole world could fall apart in a sea of arrows and dragonfire around us.
I allowed the illusion to continue a moment longer before I pulled away.
“Tali,” he managed. He turned to his brother. “Cho. I’m glad you’re both well.”
“Are the Anyus at the gate?”
He nodded.
“My guards?”
“Still imprisoned,” Khine said.
Cho snorted. “Why aren’t you?”
“He set me free a few days ago to work on his daughter’s injuries. The dragon had twisted her leg beyond recognition—I had no choice but to amputate it. They said you rode north. We weren’t sure you’d survived.” He took a deep breath. “You escaped the Anyus?”
“I want nothing to do with either of them,” I said in a low voice. “Sharks, the both of them. Kaggawa. Anyu. Cut from the same cloth, no matter what they say. I am done with it. I will save my son myself.”
He gave a grim smile. “Daring words, but how do we start?”
“Get me to my guards first.”
We walked all the way the courtyard and strode down the staircase in the alcove behind the kitchen. There was a single guard on the door to the basement, a tense-looking servant who stood up straight immediately at the sight of us. “What are you doing here?” Khine asked, drawing close to the man.
“Sir?”
“The Anyus are attacking, didn’t you hear? They need every man out there!”
“I was told to stay here in case—”
“You’d rather wait for them to come and hack you to pieces? Those are royals out there. We’re commoners. You know what that means, don’t you?”
The man’s eyes widened before he stumbled off in haste.
“What does it mean?” I asked Khine, as soon as the guard was out of earshot.
“I’m not sure, entirely,” Khine said. “Would’ve had a hard time following that train of conversation. But we got what we wanted, see?” He held out the key, which he had pilfered from the guard.
I smiled as he unlocked the door. “You’ve heard about everything, I suppose.”
“Ah, yes. It was all everyone could talk about.” We went down the steps, leaving Cho to keep watch outside. Khine cleared his throat. “You are still Queen,” he reminded me. “You may not have to do this alone. Is there anyone else in Jin-Sayeng you can turn to? Did you think the weight of who you are disappears overnight?”
“The entire council would disagree with you there.”
“The title—they can take that away. But it doesn’t change how you were raised.”
“You know little about how I was raised.”
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“It is more than about blood and pushing your weight around. There are tenets we follow, values carried down by every family or clan. We give ourselves names, too. A falcon of the Ikessar values pacifism, knowledge, and diplomacy. A ‘Baraji civet’ implies someone with wit and uses cunning to shift the winds to their favour.”
“A Baraji civet? That doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”
I smiled. “The Jeinza uses the image of a ship’s anchor on their banners. They value tradition, goodwill, and harmony, and have been strong supporters of the Orenar clan—so as long as we remember to put the good of Jin-Sayeng over ourselves. Which has never been a problem, though the rest of them think otherwise.”
“Because the Orenar, as head of the Oren-yaro, are honourable beyond question.”
I grimaced. “It isn’t honour.”
“What is it, then?”
“It is hard to explain in simple words if you aren’t born an Oren-yaro yourself. Only within the Oren-yaro have our tenets managed to transcend into an ideal that has shaped an entire region. It wasn’t easy to get that far. Our warlords have created a reputation over the years as harsh and unrelenting, but such behaviour would’ve reduced us down to tyrants if not for one thing: we strive to be the very personification of these tenets ours
elves. And so you have these values that the royal clans share with the common people, which gives them pride, which is dangerous.”
He halted in his steps. “I don’t understand.”
I shrugged. “It’s simple. I have no power if I am not supported by my clan. After all of this, especially after Rayyel’s announcement, it would be all too easy to accuse me of putting too much importance on my own needs. On frivolities.”
Khine’s face flickered. “Your son’s life is a frivolity?”
“You see my fear, Khine?” I paused to stare at him. “I am not here as queen, not anymore. They’ve made that easy for me, at the very least. I am here as Thanh’s mother, because I need help to save my boy, politics be damned.”
“What about Rayyel?”
I stared at him, knowing what I knew. His expression betrayed nothing. Even the question came off nonchalant, uttered by a concerned friend. Too good of an actor, Khine—if Cho had kept his silence, I would’ve missed it. I hoped I was just as good.
“Sorry,” he quickly said, before I could reply. “I suppose it’s a foolish question.”
“I will always…” I began.
He drew a sharp breath.
I turned away. “I loved my father, too. I still do. And yet I knew what he was, and the more I find out about him, the more distasteful the idea of being his daughter becomes.” I paused, lowering my voice to a faint whisper. “It is painful, Khine. Painful to have all this love I cannot fully throw myself in, to have it exist within a sphere that belongs only to me. I cannot take comfort from it, cannot hope to be understood. The only time I’ve ever known love that I could wrap myself in, that I could get lost in, was with my son, and even then…” I trailed off, finding that we had reached the end of the hall.
There was a single cell at the furthest corner. Agos was leaning on the bars, hands hooked through the metal, long shadows dancing on his face. “You’re safe,” he breathed at the sight of me. “We heard all sorts of things from the guards, but they wouldn’t confirm either way, the fucking bastards.”
The Ikessar Falcon Page 39
