The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  “It’s just going to be the two of us.”

  “Really? He agreed to that?”

  I didn’t reply. The smile on his face faded.

  “I see,” Agos grumbled, realizing what I had just done. What I was still doing.

  “It’s not—and I didn’t think you’d mind. I’m sorry.”

  “What, again? I should really work on my performance.” Agos cracked a smile and pressed his face close to me. After a moment’s hesitation, he kissed me again—softly.

  I was wrong, at least, about something. There could be comfort in need, between rustling sheets and flickering shadows. We measured time with each ragged breath, rising higher and higher until the blessed darkness came, leaving only the bittersweet tinge of my sins in my mouth.

  But long into the night, I stayed awake and thought of my father and the things he had done, the things he felt like he had to do, and wondered how he coped. You built walls around your heart or you drowned in the harsh truths. I didn’t know if Khine would ever forgive me, and I supposed it didn’t matter. It was enough to know that I could never forgive myself.

  Chapter Eight

  Picking Up the Pieces

  I didn’t visit Khine again the next day. There was nothing left between us and nothing more to say. Last night’s memories still stung like an open wound, and the very thought of facing him again after what I had done left me feeling light-headed. I knew the guilt was unwarranted, but it distracted me all the same. I asked a servant to check up on him and was told he was sleeping. The chief surgeon promised he would take care of him—his antics at the arena had won him friends, at least. He wasn’t back alley scum to these people. Sometimes a single moment was enough to define a man’s worth.

  Lord Huan met us at the gates. Even in the dark, unshaved and dressed in loose robes, he still looked as lordly as a man ever could. It was the effect of having faced a dragon, I think. I wondered how I looked to him. “By now people will have heard of what happened,” he said. “The other lords will send their men, my own father included, to intercept you. Be careful. Warlord San says he will sound the alarms the moment the sun rises.”

  “That’s not much time,” I grumbled.

  Huan gave a grim smile. “It’s the best he could do. He and Governor Qun had been at odds. This would be the final straw in this alliance of theirs.”

  “Have you any idea what dirt Qun has on him?”

  Huan scratched the back of his head. “The thing with Eikaro…”

  “His connection to the agan?”

  He glanced around warily before dropping his voice down. “It’s the same with Warlord San. One of his daughters. She’s being kept in a temple of Sakku in an island off the coast.”

  I took a deep breath. “Akaterru. And let me guess—Yeshin found out and fed the Zarojo this information. What’s he been doing, keeping tabs on all the royal children from the start? And then he gives this all to the Zarojo so that it would be easier to manipulate the warlords into doing their bidding?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “That old man—” I shook my head. “I don’t know whether to be revolted or in awe of him.”

  “Most of us think the same way, my lady. Your father was a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, he still is.”

  “He gave them too much,” I said. “Too many tools to use against us. Does Warlord San know of how much Yeshin’s hand was in all of this?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Can you keep it from him? At least until I get to Oren-yaro?”

  Huan looked surprised that I would say such a thing. “The thought never even crossed my mind.” He dropped his head towards me. “Someday, we will speak of the dragon and my brother. Someday. I’m not ready now. But know that when the time comes, Yu-yan will raise her banners for you and I will ride with you to hell and back. You are the true Dragonlord, the Ikessars be damned.”

  I felt a chill run through me. “Lord Huan,” I murmured. “I am honoured.”

  “Just give me time,” he added with a grin. “Perhaps not until Tori gives birth. She’s not too far along. And my own wife may be pregnant, too—I need to learn the stakes before I make a move.” He nodded towards Agos, who was walking up to us with our horses. “Take care of her,” he said.

  Agos snorted. “When have I never?”

  “Actually—” I started.

  He gave me a look.

  “You know what,” I said, “I’ll let you have this one. Until we meet again, Lord Huan.”

  Huan reached out to take my hand, pressing it on his forehead before placing his lips over it it. “Safe travels, Beloved Queen.”

  We started down the road. Agos began to whistle.

  “You’re in a good mood,” I commented.

  His eyes gleamed. “Don’t tell me I need to explain to you.”

  I ignored his implication. “We’re going back to Oren-yaro. As lovely as those words sound, we know the entire castle is going to be crawling with council representatives and Ikessars from top to bottom.”

  “So what’s your brilliant plan for when we get there? I assume you want to give Lord General Ozo a tongue-lashing. I’d love to be there for that. I doubt they’ll just let you waltz in there and call Rayyel a liar to his face.”

  “I have no intention of waltzing in.”

  “That’s what you royals do, don’t you? Waltz.” He gave me the goofiest smile.

  “I’m glad this is all very amusing to you.”

  “Master Dai’s proposition seems less drastic, if you think about it.” Agos crossed his arms. “He’s a lot of things, that Dai, but I feel like he wants to do right by you. I told you that maybe you should’ve considered his offer. Royal with a commoner—you see anything wrong with that?” He gave me a knowing look.

  I glanced away, hoping the darkness hid my expression. “Don’t jest about such things, Agos.”

  “It’s not a jest.”

  “What happened between us was…”

  He grunted under his breath as I trailed off, forging ahead into the darkness. We were silent for a while as I tried to push away last night’s decision into the furthest reaches of my mind. I needed to stop letting Agos take the fall for my incapacities.

  “You do have a plan, I hope,” Agos said sometime later. “Else you wouldn’t have dared to get us this far.”

  “I didn’t want to say it out loud while we were in the Sougen, with Dai’s spies everywhere,” I grumbled. “But my father created escape tunnels in case Oka Shto was ever besieged. They go straight into the throne room. If we time it right, we could have Thanh in and out of Oka Shto without anyone’s knowledge.”

  His eyes widened. “Tunnels?”

  “They open up to the crypts in the Kibouri temple,” I said. “I suppose it would be the last place his enemies would’ve dared look. It is a risky venture, Agos. Who knows if we’ll even get close to Oren-yaro?”

  “Well, if it comes to that—” he began.

  His horse suddenly surged forward, blood pouring out of its mouth as it crumpled to the ground. Agos managed to jump off in time to avoid getting crushed under its weight. As I yanked the reins up in an effort to get my own mount under control, I saw the arrows sticking out of the dead horse’s neck just as more came flying out of the shadows, embedding themselves underneath my saddle.

  I extracted my leg from the saddle as my own horse fell to the side. I landed on my shoulder, rolled to the ditch, drew my sword. Agos was already making a headlong rush into the darkness. I saw him throw the lantern and heard someone cry out as it smashed into what I hoped was their face.

  “You really don’t learn, do you, Beloved Queen?”

  I turned and saw Qun standing on top of the hill overlooking the road.

  “Come down here, you bastard,” I said. “Let’s end this.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Qun asked. “I don’t know why you believe this little outburst would be enough to win you your freedom. You know wha
t you are, don’t you? A gift mare for my prince. You can try to escape as much as you want, but you will always be roped back. Always. He’ll break you yet.”

  “Like I’d let him,” I snarled.

  He smiled. In the darkness, it looked pasted on, the shadows adding extra angles to each corner of his lips. “Do you understand how patient I’ve been with you?”

  “I didn’t realize. I apologize for being such an inconvenience,” I said smoothly.

  “You were not, as I recall, as patient with my wife.”

  I tightened my grip on the sword. “Then come,” I said. “Take your vengeance. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? You don’t care about Prince Yuebek at all—this is all for you. Come down, Qun. I’ll let you have the first strike.”

  He chuckled. “You once accused me of not knowing the stakes in this game. Oh, but I do know, Beloved Queen. Why do you think I got this far? I do care. I care about my prince claiming his kingdom at last, and the power I stand to inherit paving the way for him. But I was also fond of my wife. And if my vengeance comes in watching you suffer, in seeing you wriggling in my prince’s grasp while we take care of your boy—”

  I heard another cry. Agos appeared beside me, soaked in blood. From the way he was still standing, it didn’t look like his.

  “No horses,” Qun said, giving a mock shake of his head. “And down to one man. How ever will you get to Oka Shto before me?”

  “We can finish this now, Qun!” I roared.

  “You never did answer my question about your son. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Until we meet again, Beloved Queen!”

  “Qun!” I thundered.

  But he drew away, disappearing with the sound of hooves.

  ~~~

  My father had taught me about winning—how to overcome one’s opponents by planning ahead, and being gracious in victory, and knowing how to deal with the aftermath and the spoils. He never taught me how to lose.

  I didn’t know, for instance, that you could be down on the ground already and still fall. That the pain of abandonment and humiliation could stretch out like stars before you, every flicker a reminder of the things you should have done, the things you have failed to do. You begin to lose sight of the end and you start to second-guess your actions. Everything becomes an exercise in frustration, as if the act of catching your thumb in your scabbard, or getting a stone in your boot, was a clear sign that the gods did not favour you.

  I still don’t know how I made it out of that road, let alone through that night—limping, horseless, with barely any provisions and Qun’s words still fresh in my mind. If you ask me now, I can only remember wanting to curl up in the ditches to die. Why was I being kept alive? Just to serve as Yuebek’s gift mare? Others seem to taste the sweet release of death long before they know their place in time. I, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to turn my head without getting hammered by someone’s grandiose idea of what I had to be.

  But somehow, we made it to the the next village. We spent the next few hours trying to find transportation. There were no horses for sale—the village only had one sick-looking buffalo, and the wagons weren’t due to pass for another few hours, at least. I came to the acceptance that there was no way in hell I would ever overtake Qun on the road. If we could walk to the coast, perhaps, and find a boat…

  “There’ll be soldiers on the road and soldiers on every dock from here to Osahindo, and beyond,” Agos told me. “Qun’s the least of your worries, if you want me to be honest.”

  “So what would you have me do?” I snapped at him.

  “I’m just saying that out of all the options you’ve got left, the most sensible one remains.”

  “You want me to march back and beg Kaggawa for forgiveness?”

  “If it makes you feel any better, his men must’ve been in Oren-yaro for weeks.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I hissed.

  “They won’t let anything happen to Thanh.”

  “The fact that they’ve been there for weeks and we haven’t heard anything must mean they’ve got no idea how to get him out,” I said. “So much for Kaggawa’s spies.”

  “Let them know about the tunnel.”

  I turned to him. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  He looked away, grumbling. “It’s just a thought. No need to be snippy with me.”

  I turned away from him as a figure on horseback caught my attention.

  Agos squinted. “I’ll be damned,” he growled. “That’s—Lamang!”

  Khine turned at the sound of Agos’ voice. He looked even more sickly under the sun, his skin all the paler under the bright light. He sat loosely on his saddle, struggling to stay upright. I hung back as Agos strode towards him.

  “Are you really trying to get yourself killed?” Agos roared. “How about I save you the trouble and smash your head on the road myself?”

  Khine ignored him. He clambered down and slowly made his way towards me. His eyes were hard, his face a stone wall.

  “I told you I’d find you,” Khine said. All the playfulness, the smooth tones I had come to expect from him, was gone from his voice. He was angry with what I had done, angry that I had chosen to use his feelings to cut him loose from my life. I didn’t regret it, either. I’d do it all over again if I had to.

  “There’s nothing for you here.” I walked past him to where Agos waited for me. “Go home, Khine. With the embargo gone, there’ll be fishing boats heading to Ziri-nar-Orxiaro from Kyo-orashi again.”

  “I know. I sent Cho on one.”

  “Let me guess—he didn’t know you weren’t planning to come.”

  “Of course not,” Khine said. “He thinks I’m being foolish.”

  “We all do.”

  “And you think,” he continued in a lower voice, “that I’m the sort of man you could drive away that easily. I thought you were a better judge of character than that, Queen Talyien. Do you think I care what you do or who you take into your bed?”

  “You care,” I hissed. “You wouldn’t be so angry otherwise.”

  I joined Agos and started to walk down the road without looking back. Ten, twenty paces in, I heard Agos give a soft sigh. “Fucking idiot is still following us.”

  “Of course he is,” I murmured. I could hear Khine’s horse clopping on the road.

  “I’m not even sure he can see straight. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? I’m not going to play nursemaid if he bleeds out here.”

  “Neither am I,” I replied. “Let’s see what happens. I really doubt he can keep up with us the way he is.” I bit my lip and focused on marching north for the rest of the day.

  ~~~

  The Jinsein people know persistence better than most. Persistence wins battles. Persistence bleeds the enemy. Persistence keeps you planting rice on fields ruined by hurricanes, year in and year out, each forward motion defined like the beating of a drum. But my people did these things to get something in return, little as those chances might be. If you managed to kill the enemy, you lived. If you planted rice, you ate.

  I didn’t know what Khine thought he would gain by pushing his body beyond its limits. And I wasn’t heartless, although I tried to be. When I saw that he was still riding behind us at the next village, I decided to call it a night, to Agos’ disappointment. I all but dragged Khine off his horse, found a room to stuff him in, and then went off in search of a healer. I found someone who agreed to look at him—a wrinkled old man with toothless gums and the smell of herbs clinging to him like a second layer of skin. He wasn’t as conservative as Warlord San’s chief surgeon and thought all that Khine needed was a good night’s sleep, hot soup, and copious amounts of sambong tea.

  “Please don’t insult me any further,” Khine murmured, as soon as the man was gone. “I think I know what I’m capable of surviving or not. You could’ve saved your money.”

  “Good to know,” I snapped. “I don’t need the baggage.”

  Agos called for me from
down the hall. I started for the door.

  “Tali,” Khine breathed in a voice that was almost pleading.

  I slammed the door shut. I didn’t want to be caught alone with him ever again.

  Easier said than done. I had made decisions that were harder, it seemed, to follow through than I imagined. Sharing a room with Agos with Khine next door felt like walking barefoot on a long, hot road. I was distracted the whole night through, which was then followed by restless dreams. I woke up very early the next morning while Agos was still snoring to pay the healer another visit.

  He had the herbs I needed and didn’t even ask for too much for them. I paid him and went up the path, and Khine was there, waiting. He must have followed me straight from the inn. He should’ve forgotten trying to be a con man or a doctor—life as an assassin would suit him better. I glanced away from him irritably.

  Khine cleared his throat as I walked past him. He pointed at the packet in my hands. “You could at least let me take a look to make sure those don’t tear a hole through you,” he said.

  “Quacks shouldn’t be judging other quacks,” I snapped.

  He held his hand out.

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “No,” he replied. “I remain reasonable, considering what you’re doing.” Now he reached out to take the packet without my permission. I frowned, watching as he ripped it open. He sniffed the contents.

  “Well?” I growled.

  “Badly dried,” he replied. “It’s not moldy, and it’s at least the right kind, but…what is this, Tali? Is this all just to make a point?”

  “I was wondering when the lecture would start.”

  He took a deep breath. “Very well,” he murmured after a moment, like a man who was struggling very hard not to say what he actually thought of me. “Nothing I say will make a difference, anyway.”

  “Now you know what I feel about you.” I started back for the inn. I heard him take another deep breath before he began to walk, one hand on his stick. Every step seemed painful. The guilt began again. I moved to contain it.

  Agos was sitting on a bench outside the inn when we arrived. A small table with breakfast had been set out—dried squid, garlic rice, salted egg, raw tomatoes and onions, and hot coffee. “I was wondering where you got off to,” he said, draping an arm over my shoulder. I patted his hand before taking it off.