by Matt Larkin
From the fourth floor she could hear flute music. She followed the music into the garden and found Landorundun playing, still wearing the white baju from this afternoon.
“Naresh isn’t up here,” Landorundun said when Chandi sat beside her.
“I came to see you.”
Landorundun stared at her without answering.
“I was in the harbor today.” Chandi waited, but still the Guardswoman didn’t speak. “I visited a teahouse and had peanut satay.”
“Was it good?”
“I don’t remember tasting it.”
Landorundun sighed and folded her arms over her knees, then laid her head on them. Lorises had gathered in the trees, watching them, chattering.
“I heard you’re marrying Naresh.”
“I’m sorry,” the Guardswoman murmured without lifting her head.
Chandi put her hand on the other woman’s neck. Maybe she should hate this woman who was marrying the man she loved. By Chandra, it seemed sometimes Naresh hated her. But she understood what Landorundun must be going through, what it was like to love someone you can’t have. Landorundun’s ponytail had come half-undone, so Chandi pulled free the ribbon and began to re-draw the woman’s hair. It shimmered in the moonlight. Would Naresh notice her more if her hair was like Landorundun’s?
At first Landorundun stiffened under Chandi’s ministrations, then relaxed and allowed Chandi to work. “You do this for your mistress?”
“Yes. I’ve had lots of practice.” With Landorundun’s hair neat, Chandi tied the ribbon in a bow. “I saw you with Bendurana, today.”
Landorundun lifted her head from her knees and twisted around to face Chandi, then sat with her legs crossed. “I’m not in the habit of having servants do my hair, handmaid.”
Chandi glowered. She tried to be nice, and this was the thanks she got. She wasn’t a damned handmaid. She ached to leap to her feet and scream the truth about who she was to everyone in Kasusthali. To scream the truth about all the secrets and lies and betrayals. At least maybe then everyone would know she was not beneath Naresh. She was a child of the Moon God himself, born with divine blood. That made her good enough for anyone.
Landorundun picked up on her ire. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I’m just not that sort of woman.” After a moment she glanced at the moon. “Not anymore, anyway. I would rather be with Ben, yes. But we can’t have what we want. My parents made a bargain with the Radiant Queen, and neither my feelings, nor Bendurana’s, nor yours matter.”
Chandi started to object, but Landorundun cut her off.
“It wouldn’t matter for you, either way. Naresh is the Radiant Queen’s son, and she would never let her son marry a handmaid.” And there it was again. “Naresh and I wanted to marry, once. In our Academy days, we talked about it.”
What? But they hated each other, didn’t they? She had seen familiarity between them, true, but never affection. Had she missed it?
Landorundun smiled. “He almost got expelled, for fighting with the first boy I was with.” Her smile faltered. “The Radiant Queen would never hear of her son marrying a flutist. She shamed me. When I first joined the Arun Guard, I thought I wanted to prove myself to her, to Naresh. But later I realized that wasn’t it. If a successful flutist wasn’t good enough for her son, you have to know a palace servant will never be. Never.”
With her elbows on her knees, Chandi put her face in her hands. Had she come to the palace open about who she was, had Rahu not asked her to spy, maybe all this would have been different.
“The worst thing is the Radiant Queen probably thinks she’s helping us. Giving us what we want.”
“Is it what Naresh wants?”
“I doubt it. I can’t say what he cares about anymore. He used to love me. I’m sure he loved the damned macaque. A pet,” she said to Chandi’s quizzical look. “He had to get rid of it when he joined the Arun Guard. Maybe he had to give up a lot.”
Chandi fell onto her back and stared at Chandra’s face in the full moon. If she prayed harder, would it make a difference? Clouds passed in front of the moon, obscuring her vision. Perhaps Chandra couldn’t see her clearly, either.
“Things wouldn’t have worked out with me and Ben, anyway. The whole reason my parents approached the Radiant Queen about marriage again was that they found out about him. They’d have done anything to keep me away from him.”
Even force her to marry someone she didn’t love.
Was every Solar in this city utterly mad?
Chandi rose, shaking her head. “Do whatever you want, Landorundun. But you can’t have Naresh.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Ben glanced down at the sealed letters Ratna offered him. “More names?” he asked.
The Lunar girl nodded. They had met in the park. With Naresh watching, Ratna’s performance had been so perfect Ben had almost believed she was surprised to see him, despite her having sent word to him of exactly when to be here. It was harder to arrange meetings with Ratna than Chandi, but since both Lunar girls now seemed to want to involve themselves in his efforts to aid the Ignis, he wasn’t going to turn down allies.
Of course, he kept telling himself he had to stop. That, with Landi, he had too much to lose to keep getting involved in these criminal dealings. Except when he saw a poor carpenter or stonemason trapped in a contract he’d been forced to sign just to eat, and trapped for life, it was damn hard to see the man as a criminal.
Years ago, Semar had put him in touch with members of the Igni resistance movement. Naresh killing Partigatiga had been a blow to the resistance, but the imbecile had brought it on himself, trying to have Revati killed. However bad the Igni oppression was, nothing justified the murder of an innocent child. Besides, there were better ways to save the Ignis than starting a war. It had almost been enough to make Ben pull out of the resistance movement right then.
They had promised him that, after the incident, they were only interested in escaping Solar hold on them. Sending them off to the Spice Islands where they could make respectable livings farming, fishing, or plying their trades was the best he could do for them.
“Just see that the right people get these messages,” Ratna said. “You’ll be contacted with further instructions.”
“Yes, Ibu Ratna.” Ben hesitated. This girl was so much harder to read than her handmaid. Chandi was, despite sneaking around with the Igni resistance, so earnest Ben couldn’t help but like her. She very clearly believed the Ignis were being unjustly oppressed, and Ben agreed wholeheartedly.
After the Witch-Queen had conquered his homeland, she’d enslaved those who did not follow her rule. The whole nation—indeed, many nations, he supposed now—had fallen under her implacable sway. Nothing good came from witchcraft, of course, but seeing the vile lash fall upon the once proud rajkumars of his country had still been shocking. Sometimes, before he met Landi, he’d entertained the idea of going back, trying to help liberate the island. To his shame, he’d never had that much courage. He’d watched the Witch-Queen turn brother against brother and raise the dead in profound mockeries of life.
Here, in the Solar Empire, the Arun Guard probably kept them safe. There were far easier lands for the woman to conquer, after all. Lands where she need not contend with Sun Striders, Moon Scions, and Jadian.
“Why are you helping the Ignis?” he asked.
They couldn’t speak long before Naresh might wander over, suspicious of their meeting. But he had to know the answer to this.
“The way the Solars treat them is wrong.”
“Ah, my dear, it is indeed. But I get the feeling there’s something more going on with you.” He did not know her half so well as he did Chandi, but he’d never seen Ratna show the slightest sympathy to the slaves her own people kept. And maybe those slaves were captured in war, not born into it, but the distinction was beyond petty in Ben’s eyes.
“Captain. My reasons are my own.”
“Ah, and I would never pry a lady’s secrets from
her.” He paused. “Well, that is, I would. I most definitely would, and at any opportunity. And since you are asking me to do something, I believe this is just such an opportunity, my lady. Therefore, I truly must pry.”
Ratna glanced over at Naresh, then leaned close to Ben. “The Solar economy is dominating the Isles. If we weaken it, we allow a better balance between the dynasties. Can you imagine why I’d want that, captain?”
Ben nodded. It was about money. Maybe Ratna cared about the Ignis, maybe she didn’t. But in the end, if the Solars lost their indentured servants, it weakened their hold on their Empire. Maybe gave the Lunars room to expand out of the isolationism that had reigned for the last several centuries.
Suddenly, he regretted having asked. It was so much easier to help the Ignis when he was only thinking about their wellbeing. Now, thanks to dear Ratna, he knew that helping them meant harming Landi’s people. Ben tucked the letters into his sarong, then sauntered away from Ratna, offering Naresh a nod the man returned.
In the end, of course, he had little choice. It was easy to say he wouldn’t get involved. But, sooner or later, some Igni craftsman with seventeen starving daughters would cross his path and beg for passage away from Kasusthali. And Ben would take them because, well, that was what he had to do.
He sighed. Being a hero was rough.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Naresh sat in the lounge rubbing his forehead. Why Landi had wanted him to deal with Bendurana he couldn’t guess. Damn captain whined about the Ministry of War not paying him for catching pirates. Most likely Bendurana’s former friends, at that.
At least the captain was gone now. Naresh had enough problems without letting Bendurana loan him more.
His head hurt.
He shouldn’t have attacked Malin. Maybe Landi was right about it all. He did need more self-control. In the end, maybe she’d be good for him, despite everything. But he didn’t love her anymore.
“Naresh?”
He jerked upright at the sound of her voice. “Sun warm your face, Chandi.” Her crooked smile had grown so weak. “Please sit down.” He waved at the bench beside him. “What brings you here today?”
“I,” she began, then hesitated. “I wanted to tell you that I…”
“You told me you wanted to be friends again. So you can tell me anything.” He took her trembling hand and she didn’t pull it away. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Just, congratulations.”
He sighed, then put his other hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”
She pulled her hand away and rose. “I should let you get back to work.”
He should work, but it was the last thing he wanted now. “Chandi, you don’t have to leave. I could use someone to talk to. My life is changing so fast.” He could always count on Empu Baradah to listen, to give advice. And now … “You’re the only one I can talk to.”
She bit her lip and looked away from him. “Don’t,” she mumbled.
“What?”
She drew a sharp breath before she spoke again. “Don’t marry her.” Her eyes locked on his. “I love you.” She reached for his hands again. He couldn’t imagine what she must have seen in his face. “You … you don’t believe me?”
Couldn’t let his voice break. “I believe you.” Had he fooled himself all along? He could talk to her, laugh with her, maybe even trust her again. She was beautiful and caring. Did he feel the same?
She was a Lunar. What he felt didn’t matter.
As soon as he spoke, she’d know that. So he stroked her hand in his and tried to smile. He needed Empu Baradah more than ever. No matter what he said, he would hurt her. “I …” He sighed. “I wish it were possible, Chandi. But it’s not. My mother would never allow it, even if she hadn’t already arranged a marriage for me.”
“But you don’t have to do what she says. If you don’t live your own life, you’re the one who’ll suffer for it, not her.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
If he stroked her face now, it would only make it harder. “You should understand family loyalty.”
“Better than you know. I could lose my family, too. But it’s worth it. Loyalty doesn’t make you a slave.” She withdrew her hands. “Do you love Landorundun?”
“I—”
“You don’t. And you know she loves Bendurana. You do know that’s why her parents forced this marriage?”
Bendurana? He couldn’t blame her parents for wanting to keep their daughter from the captain.
Chandi leaned in. He could let her kiss him. But … it wouldn’t change anything.
He pressed her shoulder backward. “I can’t. We can’t.” As he stood, she folded her hands in her lap and bit her lip. “I wish things were different.” He backed away but paused in the doorway. “My duty to my family is clear. I cannot place what I want above my family’s honor. I’m so sorry.”
He spun and shuffled down the hall. If she was crying, he didn’t want to see it. She should have known he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
“Your uncle demands your presence,” Malin told Chandi.
Rahu could swallow the Moon for all Chandi cared. The weretiger had found her in the gardens. Despite the rain, she’d sat there since her talk with Naresh. Not sulking. Chandi didn’t sulk. Only Ratna sulked.
How would Naresh react when she told him about Rahu’s orders for her to kill Aji Bidara?
“It’ll be worse if you deny him,” Malin said when she didn’t rise.
Then let it be done. She had run for fear of Rahu’s wrath before. No more. Chandi rose and followed Malin down the stairs. The Macan Gadungan led her to Ratna’s room, where her father and uncle sat on the floor, sipping tea.
Keeping their conspiracy from the Solars. Planning to destroy Naresh’s people, while he planned his wedding to Landorundun.
“We must strike, brother,” Ketu said. Chandi turned to look at her father. “It’s been more than a week, and Kakudmi has not yet conceded that we may keep the Astral Temple. You know we must have it.”
“Yes, we’ll have it. Let them share it for a time if we have to. Bide our time and strike when they least expect it. Crush them all.”
“All of us are in danger here,” Ratna said. Everyone ignored her.
“And you,” Rahu said, rounding on Chandi. “How dare you tarry so long in joining us? And you failed in killing the Radiant Queen. What use are you?”
Her father gasped.
“I didn’t fail. I refused.”
Her uncle reeled, eyes bulging at the blatant defiance. Ratna squeaked and covered her mouth.
“You ordered her to assassinate Aji Bidara?” Ketu said. “Are you mad?”
Rahu leapt to his feet and kicked over the teapot. Chandi’s father, too, jumped, as hot water splashed over him.
“You question my authority? I rule supreme. Supreme. No one can stop me. No one.”
Her father sputtered. “Chandra rules supreme! We serve him.”
Rahu’s eyes had gone wild. Chandi gaped at her uncle. This couldn’t be what it looked like. “Then come, show me you can serve him better. Or shall I send your cowardly tongue to him?”
Her father drew his keris knife. Rahu did the same.
“Father—” Ratna rose from the bed.
Chandi grabbed her cousin and pulled her across the room. “We can’t interfere.” This was it. Just the same as Anusapati.
Even as she spoke, their fathers started the dance. With speed that could only come from Moon Blessings, they slashed and turned about each other. An attack deflected with keris. A low kick.
Faster and faster, until she could no longer tell who was attacking, who was winning. She pulled Ratna closer to her chest. One of their fathers would submit, or one would die here.
Rahu flipped over her father and snared him around the shoulder. A twist of his arms flung Ketu toward the wall with enough force to shatter a man, but her father spun and shifted his gravity onto it, then kicked off and
rolled at Rahu.
Her uncle was faster. Only Ketu showed his age. Rahu leapt over Ketu’s lunge and kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling. Her father rose, keris ready, but his breathing came heavy. Rahu was smiling, beaming. Chuckling.
Her uncle reached a hand toward the teapot. It exploded and shards of pottery flew at her father. Ketu tried to shield his face and the shards embedded in his arm.
Chandi stood open-mouthed. A new Moon Blessing? All Moon Scions had the same ones. Could Rahu really be the Voice of Chandra? The speaker for the Moon God himself among them, now a lunatic?
As her father recovered, Rahu extended the keris toward him. The blade flew from his hand and impaled her father with enough force to hurl him from his feet.
Chandi released Ratna and moved toward her father. The keris had lodged in his shoulder. Her father was mercifully unconscious.
“Behold the new Moon God,” Rahu said. He didn’t shout. Somehow, that made it worse. He smiled. Just smiled. And then he left.
Chandi drew her Potency Blessing so she could lift her father to the bed.
“Your father shouldn’t have challenged him,” Ratna said. Chandi heard her cousin pacing, but she didn’t look at her. More important things drew her attention. “He had to know. Father was always the most powerful. His Blessings are so strong.”
“I doubt my father intended to challenge him. Rahu didn’t give him much choice.”
“He should have known better.”
How many times had Rahu used his Blessings before he had gone lunatic? Every Moon Scion’s worst fear, now realized in their own leader. No one could stand against him. No one would challenge his power.
“Your father is a lunatic now. You saw that.”
“I saw nothing! Nothing!” Ratna’s voice broke. She hadn’t cried when she learned she had to marry Kakudmi. She hadn’t cried since they came here, not that Chandi could remember. But she could hear tears in her cousin’s voice now. “You keep your mouth shut, Chandi. Don’t make it any worse for your father.” Ratna stormed out.
