The Heir (Fall of the Swords Book 3)

by Scott Michael Decker

  “The politics of accession and Eastern Empire history, Lady Elk.”

  “The Lord Peering Owl is the best for the politics of accession, I hear, and I could teach you history, Lord, all but recent history.”

  “You'd honor me with your teaching, Lady Elk.” Looking at her, he made a quick conjecture. “Have you been a bandit long?”

  “Sixteen years,” she replied, enjoying the smell of the coffee, not minding the mild breach of etiquette. Asking how long a person had been a bandit was impolite, the answer usually embarrassing. Asking under what circumstances a person had become a bandit was an insult meriting retaliation, the answer usually ignominious.

  Wanting to ask without asking, Seeking Sword decided to mention and watch. “Sad about the Matriarch Water, eh?”

  “Yes, Lord Sword, a great loss,” she replied serenely.

  He saw a flicker of hesitation, her eyes glancing to the floor. She does mourn the passing of Bubbling Water. She was a daughter of the most powerful Matriarchy in all four Empires. He wondered how and why a Water Daughter had become a bandit. Knowing a little about the tumultuous events before and after his birth, Seeking Sword wondered if her exmatriation had been a result of those events. Perhaps she would tell him, during her instruction.

  “I'd like to know her history, Lady Elk,” he said, “and how she influenced the Empire.”

  “I'd be most happy to tell you, Lord Sword,” she replied, unperturbed. “She was very influential, Infinite keep her.”

  Leaping Elk said something in his native tongue.

  “Yes, Lord,” she replied, and turned to the younger man. “Lord Sword, you will see the Lord Snake about new clothing, quarters and duties. In addition, the Lord Snake will see that you learn all about how we raid.”

  “I honor, Sword Lord, you in band have,” Leaping Elk said.

  “You honor me by accepting, Lord Elk,” Seeking Sword replied, bowing and knowing this dismissal. “Infinite be with you.”

  The mates returned the obeisance and watched the young man leave.

  * * *

  Fawning Elk smiled toward the still swaying curtain. Years ago, she had found a reason to live in caring for the two infant boys, her son Rearing Elk and the motherless child Seeking Sword.

  Bringing herself back to the present, she sipped her coffee, enjoying the taste and warmth of it, well aware that it might be her last. “The Lady Matriarch Water greets you.”

  Looking at her sharply, Leaping Elk almost spilled his coffee. “I had hoped that the debt died with the Matriarch,” he replied in his own tongue.

  “I know, my Lord, my love,” she said calmly. “The Lady Matriarch Rippling Water says to cancel the bargain you need only kill me or rematriate me and my daughter.” What the Infinite wills for me is beyond my control, Fawning Elk thought. Her face betrayed none of her turmoil. She would die if need be. Deep in her heart, she still wanted to die.

  Sixteen years before, the Emperor Flying Arrow had executed Trickling Stream's mate and children in front of her. Her mate, Tumbling Pigeon, had failed to carry out the Emperor's order. Flying Arrow had then remanded her unto her Matriarch for punishment. Despite Trickling Stream's pleas to end her suffering, Bubbling Water had commanded her to live in exile as Leaping Elk's mate, part of a bargain between the bandit and the Matriarch.

  During those sixteen years, Fawning Elk had borne him a daughter and two sons. Slowly, she had come to love Leaping Elk. Not with her whole soul, not with passion or to the exclusion of all else, but with a gentle affection and loyalty that only years of propinquity brought. They were comfortable in each other's presence, their quarrels minor and quickly resolved. Since she spoke his language fluently, she was his interpreter, secretary, and trusted confidant, roles she shared with Slithering Snake. In many ways, Leaping and Fawning Elk had become inseparable parts of a whole. He ruled the males and she commanded the females. He insured the acquisition of sustenance and supplies and she insured their equitable distribution. The members of the band regarded her, not him, as the most demanding. Fawning Elk, in many ways, was like the Matriarch Water, old and new.

  Thus had gone the message from Rippling Water: “My daughter, Infinite be with you. It is my hope you have found a measure of happiness with your mate the Lord Elk. Please remind him that the bargain with the Matriarch Water still stands, that to cancel the bargain, he need only kill you or return you to my custody—with the daughter you bore. If he insists that the bargain no longer binds him, because he made the bargain not with me but my mother, Infinite keep her, then I order you to eliminate him immediately. If you perform all services faithfully, I will give you permission to fall on your knife, as you requested sixteen years ago. Thus you can expiate yours and your daughters' names of all dishonor. Walk with the Infinite, my daughter.”

  “What would you have me do, my love?” Leaping Elk asked, bringing her out of her reverie.

  “Do what is honorable, my love,” she replied, not knowing his obligation.

  “I dreamt I'd become a Tiger Raider. The Matriarch asked me to turn on the Tiger Raiders, to betray them when the time's right.”

  Fawning Elk drew a sharp breath. “Assassination?”

  He shook his head. “Just betrayal. If I become a member of Scowling Tiger's band, that will change. No longer will my obligation be a simple matter of withdrawing my support or of changing sides in the midst of battle.”

  “Do you honor your bargain with the Matriarch Water?”

  “Yes, I do,” he replied, searching her face, wondering.

  “Good.” She sighed, smiling sadly.

  Nodding as if she had confirmed his thought, he said, “I want you to tell the Matriarch that I and all my followers will turn on the Tiger Raiders at the appointed time—nothing more. If she asks me to assassinate, then I might as well fall on my knife.”

  Fawning Elk nodded, wondering if she should fall on her own knife to release him from obligation.

  She knew she would if he but asked.

  Chapter 5

  The law didn't bind females to the land, as it did males. Boundaries between prefectures, protectorates or Empires didn't limit the Matriarchies. Neither did political, fiscal or ethnic divisions. The only restriction was gender. Of course, land was the real foundation of wealth, agrarian production the primary source. While women controlled breeding, men controlled the land. Even the lowly artisan class produced their wares from raw materials extracted from land. Men's control of the land didn't mean that women had no access to money. The woman in most households managed the finances, money too insignificant to merit an honorable warrior's concern.—Social and Political Customs before the Fall, by Shriveling Stalk.

  * * *

  A day after the funeral, near sunset, Flaming Arrow and Rippling Water sat on the western battlements of Emparia Castle. Together they watched the fiery ball plummet toward the distant hills.

  They had said little to each other since yesterday, Rippling Water strengthening her hold on the Matriarchy. During the four days between the Matriarch's death and her pyre, he hadn't seen Rippling Water at all.

  Rarely did they see so little of each other. Flaming Arrow had felt he was losing her. Since his parents had involved themselves so little in his life, he often felt threatened by loss when someone close drifted away. The Heir realized that most relationships shifted between times of deep intimacy and times of emotional separation. Knowing the pattern didn't help.

  She's here, he told himself, and I feel satisfied with that. Content with the moment, with the now.

  “Who were you speaking with yesterday evening?” she asked, tossing her loose hair behind her ear. Her robes of purple and aquamarine went well with her turquoise tresses.

  “The sectathon Colonel Probing Gaze,” Flaming Arrow said. “He's an expert on bandits.”

  Spying Eagle and Healing Hand had brought the man to him, little knowing how well the Colonel fit into his plans. Flaming Arrow had asked the Colonel exhaustive questions.
Reticent by nature, the Heir hadn't told the Colonel the reason for his interest. Spying Eagle and Healing Hand were the Sorcerer Apprentice and Medacor Apprentice, respectively. Each a psychological Wizard, each had also devoted themselves to Flaming Arrow, despite having a higher duty to the Emperor. Both would serve Flaming Arrow when he became Emperor, Spying Eagle his Sorcerer and Healing Hand his Imperial Medacor. They often act as though I'm already Emperor, he thought with a chuckle. “Those two Wizards have been talking again.” He smiled at her.

  “Oh, perhaps they have,” Rippling Water said, “but only about what concerns us all.” She looked directly at him.

  “Something has to be done about the bandits,” Flaming Arrow said, pretending not to notice. “The Lord Gaze will help vastly when I do it.”

  She smiled, but looked mystified. “Don't you want to go through your manhood ritual first?”

  The day before the Matriarch's death, Flaming Arrow had asked his father to set his requirements. For the Emperor to have set them before Bubbling Water's final journey would have been indecorous. Last night, Flaming Arrow had slept little, not knowing when his father would set them. “I'm hoping the requirements will take me to the Windy Mountains.”

  She looked at him, as if expecting him to continue. Finally, she expelled a breath and asked, “Well?”

  “You'll just have to wait, like everyone else.”

  * * *

  Infinite grant me patience, she thought, glancing at the sky. She took his right hand in her left. From long habit, they usually sat thus, she on his right, he on her left, leaving the sword arm of each on the outside as a precaution. The physical contact helped them feel joined. Since he was without a talent, they couldn't join minds as other couples did. Rippling Water remembered how, as children, they had felt like fellow outcasts because she hadn't displayed a psychic talent either.

  One day, when she was eight, she was helping Healing Hand treat a burn victim. A fire that had swept through the poorer quarters of Emparia City had injured thousands. As Healing Hand applied his talent, she walked away to retrieve bandages from the nearby supply tent. As she returned with several, the medacor asked her to do it again. And again. Then he bade her to stay close. Later, he told her how as she approached, his power had increased. As she walked away, his talent had weakened. Under normal circumstances, Healing Hand might not have noticed, his healing powers usually inexhaustible. He had treated so many burn victims, however, that he had nearly emptied his psychic reserves. Thus, she discovered her talent—amplification.

  Like her father, Guarding Bear, she had a talent that was odd, difficult to detect and nearly unique. Her primary talent was amplification, operating like the Imperial Sword circuits which increased the Emperor's energy. Since discovering her talent, she had learned how to apply or withhold its effects. Her secondary talents had also taken time to reveal themselves. She wondered if she had other talents that hadn't yet appeared.

  Are Flaming Arrow's similarly obscure? she wondered.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Will you join the Eastern Armed Forces? You've finished your training, haven't you?”

  She nodded. “I'm not sure. I have the Matriarchy to think about. I'm not sure I can be both a warrior and a Matriarch. If conscripted, I could plead other duties. Also, I could place the Matriarchate under an executress until I've served my stint.”

  “Didn't your mother sometimes manage the Caven Hills prefecture as well as the Matriarchy?” he asked.

  “That was after the Matriarchy became second nature.”

  “You could do it,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  She smiled at his confidence in her. She didn't share it. “Either, yes, but not both. I have time to decide. Right now I'm consolidating everything. You wouldn't believe the extent of the Matriarchy, Flaming Arrow. It's huge!”

  “What's happening in the Caven Hills?”

  Men! she thought, frowning at his lack of interest in most female concerns. Men considered the Water Matriarchy politically unimportant, although it extended into all four Empires and included almost half the females of the Eastern Empire. The secret bargains, the treaties, the ties of consanguinity that Bubbling Water had arranged were important enough in themselves to alter the course of the Empire. In some ways, she thought, he's a typical male.

  “Father placed the provinces in receivership,” she said.

  Since all land was the Emperor's to grant or take away, Flying Arrow needed little excuse to turn his face from those who had fallen into misfortune. In receivership, all prefectures received temporary protection. All existing governmental agencies within those provinces operated without change, and all institutions remained open. While in receivership however, the Emperor received half the profits that would have normally gone to the Prefect. The balance went into an account to recompense any lien placed against the prefecture before receivership. The Prefect received nothing.

  Without the institution of receivership, the Emperor would have revoked the General's control of the Caven Hills Province and surrounding protectorates. Guarding Bear in his grief couldn't administer them. With the prefectures in receivership however, the General had time to recover or could assign an executor, and not lose the Caven Hills.

  Flaming Arrow nodded, frowning. “If my father wants to oust Guarding Bear as Prefect, receivership won't stop him.”

  “No, it won't. By the way, thank you for pulling him from the fire.”

  He dropped his gaze to the stone beneath him. “As much as I love him, I'm still not sure I should have. Grandmother once told me what keeps him alive is the chance to avenge the betrayal of his brother. It's a poor reason to live.”

  “It's a reason,” she said softly. “He once asked me, Flaming Arrow, to tell you something, if he couldn't do so himself. He feels the Infinite gave him back his brother in you. He lives for you too, because you look like Brazen Bear—and because he doesn't want you to rule as your father does.”

  Flaming Arrow chuckled. “He taught me well enough to prevent that.” Looking at her, he frowned, holding her hand between both his palms. “After my ritual, what will he have to live for then? I've learned nearly all he knows. What future does he have?”

  She shook her head, not knowing.

  Guarding Bear was old, in his early sixties, having lived long past the norm for his profession. Most warriors died before reaching his exalted age, some through betrayal, some by the sword, and some because of just plain weariness. In his meteoric and paranormal career, the General had fought more battles than any general in recent history. By all logic, chance and reason, he should have died long ago. His losing a mate of over forty years itself should have killed him, mates of long standing often dying within hours of each other. To compound Guarding Bear's grief, Flaming Arrow was ready to leave the nest, removing a central purpose from the General's life.

  Will Father throw himself on his knife?

  Rippling Water didn't know.

  “What can we do to give him purpose?” Flaming Arrow asked, as if reading her mind. She had become accustomed to it, guessing that they had spent so much of their lives together that they each knew what the other was thinking.

  “Give him control of the Windy Mountain Armies,” she said.

  “By the time he gets the command, Scowling Tiger will, uh … Never mind.”

  A shiver shaking her, Rippling Water looked at him sharply. “What were you going to say?”

  Flaming Arrow looked around.

  Rippling Water scanned for unfriendly ears. The guards that usually patrolled this battlement had stopped when they arrived. She and the Heir often spent time here.

  He turned back to her, a question on his face.

  She shook her head, satisfied no one would overhear him.

  “Scowling Tiger will be dead.”

  “How?” she whispered, leaning close.

  “If the Infinite's with me, by my hand,” he whispered back.

  Her green, glowing eyes went wide wit
h her short, sharp gasp.

  “Why hasn't an assassin ever worked?”

  She shrugged, beseeching him with her gaze to abandon this course.

  “No assassin has gotten close because someone suspected the intent before the attempt. Unless I tell someone, no one will know my intent. A lack of talent has advantages.”

  “It's still certain death,” Rippling Water whispered fiercely.

  “I have to try, my love,” he said intently. “I have to do something about the bandits.”

  “That's only one band,” she said. Then she realized the extent of his plan. Gasping, she nearly cried out.

  “There'll be others,” he said, brushing at the eight-arrow cipher embroidered into the left breast of his outer robe.

  She shuddered, frantically thinking of alternatives. She thought about trying to stop him, and realized that that would threaten their relationship. She tried many angles, thought through many options, and found no alternative to this madness. Silently, she commended his soul to the Infinite, for he would surely die.

  “Will you make love to me before you go?”

  “What's the hurry?” he replied, nonchalantly. “I'll be back.”

  She wanted to pick him up and throw him to the forecourt seventy feet below. “How do you know?!” she said angrily—and loudly, she realized. In a hoarse, harsh whisper, she said, “You want to throw yourself into a den of thieves, no, not once, but several times, and you have the belligerent arrogance to say you'll be back! I thought you knew how to assess risks realistically! This Empire's going to fall apart after you're Emperor. Have you no idea of the dangers you'll face? Do you know how unrealistic it is for you to expect you'll come back alive?”

  “Are you through?” he asked.

  She felt tempted to continue. His voice had been maddeningly calm in the face of her tirade, all the more terrible for her having whispered. Out of breath and near tears, she nodded.