by Devin Madson
As soon as his feet met the ground, he turned to help us down. He showed no sign he expected us to join him, instead helping us to the base of a tree where the strength in our legs gave out and we slumped back, the trunk not as warm as the captain’s chest but as strong and reliable.
Eyes closed, we listened to his footsteps move away through the grass, willow fronds swishing. His murmuring voice soon added to the music of the morning.
“He’s a… surprisingly good man,” I said.
He is. Something I find I am coming to appreciate more and more in my old age. Or perhaps it’s just the gratitude speaking. In this state we couldn’t make it to Achoi without him.
“Old age,” I scoffed. “I’m older than you.”
Then your existence in my head surely increases the average age of my thoughts, yes?
“I’m not sure brains work like that. But I can tell you like him.”
We like him. We like his goodness. What a shock that is after all the people I have thrown my heart at over the years.
“And all the people I haven’t.”
Flickers of sunlight began to light the inside of my eyelids. Birds were dancing through the willow thicket, singing their morning song along with the captain’s prayers, and in the distance the rush of the Tzitzi was comforting.
Grass rustled. A light tread approached. I opened my eyes to greet the captain’s return even as I caught the sound of his voice still droning on.
Leo crouched before me, his smile that of an old friend. “Good morning,” he said, his tone pleasant. “How lovely it is to see you, Your Majesty.”
Captain Aeneas still knelt some way off, his head bowed. A soldier stood mere paces away from him, his presence halting the cry of warning in my throat. If I spoke, he would be dead before he could rise from his prayer and draw his sword. Perhaps it was only me Leo wanted.
“You are very selfless,” Leo said, keeping his voice low. “A shock really when I know you have Miss Marius in there with you.”
His words stung as I had not thought they would.
“You think your sacrifice can spare him?” he went on. “He knows quite as much as you do, information I cannot allow the world to know. I am sure you understand.”
“What do you want?”
“To control the information,” he said. “To control my image. Image is everything in the business of belief.” Behind him more dark shapes moved beyond the willow fronds. Captain Aeneas murmured on, and I tried to recall how long the standard morning prayer went.
“Usually for about seven minutes and twenty-five seconds unless one speaks it very slow or very fast,” Leo said. “But I know the captain for a very pious man who often adds an extra prayer on the end and occasionally a personal word or two. So, we probably have about three more minutes before he stands up.”
“Are you going to kill us?”
“Oh no, not yet.”
He wanted us alive. I reached for my knife. His closest soldier was far enough away and—
The point of a dagger touched my throat. “Oh no, no, no,” he said, smile vanishing. “Don’t try anything like that. You aren’t that useful. Why don’t you give me the knife so we don’t have to risk a scene?”
Captain Aeneas had stopped his murmur. In a moment he would dip his head to the ground and rise, and our time would be up. Would he even get the chance to fight? Would it matter? Perhaps it would be better if he didn’t, better if we both just gave ourselves up and hoped to fight another day. We were outnumbered.
But we had been going to see Miko.
Heedless of our safety, the empress lifted her foot into the groin of the man crouched before us, and when his blade dropped from our throat, she kicked him again. And despite his pretence at godhood, he was man enough to gasp and wince and whiten and fall down on one knee in a moment of blinding pain.
We ripped free our dagger. He had turned as he crumpled, displaying the expanse of his back. I lifted the dagger in my weak arm and—
No! No, we cannot. Stabbed in the back by an empress, remember? Whatever the technicality, everyone still calls you an empress.
I fumbled, the handle slipping through my grip even as Leo roared and spun back, all pain and anger and determination not to die, not to fail. It turned him from the mild-mannered man of God into a hissing, spitting animal, and he gripped my wrists so hard I was sure the weak bones would snap.
“Oh, you think you know so much,” he said, forcing a laugh through his lingering pain. “You think you can stop me?” Eyes wild, he twisted my arms and I cried out, too weak to fight him, to do anything more than wriggle and kick, and I hated how little power I had. How little strength.
Captain Aeneas must have heard us for he was up now, two shocked steps having brought him close before he reached for his sword. An arm snaked around him from behind, and in a flick of silver a blade slid across his throat. Blood blossomed from nothing, spilling down his neck and onto the collar of his plain tunic. He stared at me as his blood ran out, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. The arm let him go and he stumbled forward. His blade fell heavy upon the ground and his knees followed, seeming to shake the world beneath me. But even as my lips parted to speak, to beg, to apologise, to say something, anything, the light faded from his eyes and he fell forward, his head almost within reach, his hair sticking up like pale blades of grass in an otherwise green glade.
The river went on rushing by. The birds went on singing. The willow fronds danced. And before me Leo was smiling again. “Well, that’s one problem solved,” he said, letting me go and sitting back.
“You said you wouldn’t kill us.” My voice was a quiet, broken thing. I could not stop staring at the back of Captain Aeneas’s head. Only moments before we had been musing on how lucky we had been, how much better the world was with a good man in it trying to do the right thing.
“Oh, that I wouldn’t kill either of you two.” No apology, nothing but a broadening of his smile. “He wasn’t very useful.”
“You mean his faith was too strong to be corrupted?” I spat.
His smile broadened like a wolf’s. “Ah, I missed your bite, Cassandra. I look forward to hearing much more of it.”
He stood, and I wished I could kick his knees out from beneath him, but my legs were too weak. I wished I could strangle him, but my hands were stiff and trembling. I wished I could ram my fist into his gut and steal his blade, slicing his throat and jamming the tip into his eye, but every joint was a searing pain and I could not move.
“Poor, pathetic Cassandra.” Leo looked to the closest soldier. “Bind her up and bring her. Leave the captain for the birds.”
15. MIKO
Syan ought to have been easy to hold once we took the castle, but we had not accounted for the city’s governor. Messages had gone out to every authority informing them I was in possession of Kiyoshio and had taken the place of their lord, and even General Moto had expected little fight. The arrival of the first message left him staring.
“Governor Koali has written back, Your Majesty,” he said, not lifting his gaze from the paper in his hand. “He seems… disinclined to accept your position here.”
He had been briefing me on the overnight situation when the messenger arrived. “He says while he acknowledges you to be in possession of the castle, he cannot acknowledge you as his lord and so requests that you remove yourself from his city.”
General Moto’s hand dropped, and he stared at me as though expecting me to tell him it was a hoax, so ludicrously did his jaw hang open.
“His city?” he said when I made no answer, my heart beating too fast to speak. “His city. You would think Grace Bahain didn’t exist. Or that he’s never heard of the right of conquest.”
The general noticed the messenger was still present and flapped the missive at him. “Why are you still here? Did he request an immediate reply?”
“No, my lord. I… I was also asked by the captain at the gate to inform you and… and Her Majesty that there ar
e people outside.” He trailed off into a mumble under General Moto’s stare.
“People? What sort of people?”
“Angry people. I… I understand they are city folk who have gathered at the gate to shout and… and throw things, my lord.”
I had been picking at breakfast when General Moto arrived, and now I pushed the tray away, sure I was about to be sick. Taking Kiyoshio ought to have been a smart play, striking at Grace Bahain’s home to draw him out only to crush him between two halves of my army, but with our timing out and the loss of so many at the Knot, we were vulnerable, trapped animals at the edge of the world. And without the city on my side, we couldn’t keep Bahain out.
“Thank you, you may go,” General Moto said, and the man bowed three times before hurrying away at the same speed he had arrived.
In his absence, the general read the message again as though it might contain different words.
“More trouble,” I said, prompting disclosure though I felt ill. “What are your thoughts?”
“My thoughts are full of more bad language than my wife would ever countenance me uttering aloud, Your Majesty, but they paraphrase as this being a big problem. We don’t have enough soldiers to take the city by force. But if we don’t have the city, we can’t defend ourselves. The first defence of Kiyoshio Castle is the Syan city gates.”
“Gates they could open for Grace Bahain if they wished?”
“Indeed. Perhaps if Minister Manshin gets here in time we could take the city with the combined force and—”
“No.”
General Moto clasped his hands behind his back and straightened. “No, Your Majesty?”
“No, whatever their allegiance these are still my people, and I will not have my soldiers kill innocent civilians to take over a city.”
“We’re at war.”
“But I am not at war with my people. I am at war with Grace Bahain and all the other Kisians who have sworn oaths to a false Levanti emperor. I am at war with the Chiltaens who marched across our border and conquered the north of my empire. I am at war with everything that threatens Kisian lives, but never with Kisia. An emperor serves his people. The day the people serve the emperor is the day the empire falls.”
They were Emperor Kin’s words, one of the lessons I had held close as I tried to navigate the turbulent waters of this war, and while General Moto gave no sign of recognising them, at least he bowed his acquiescence. “Then we had better write a very convincing reply to get Governor Koali on our side.”
“Ought I meet with him?”
“I don’t think that’s wise, Your Majesty. It would be both dangerous and demeaning for you to go to him, and in bringing him here we would be exposing how few soldiers we actually have. We will write back.”
It took a long time to compose a suitable reply, stating the rights of conquest and the authority I had as empress of Kisia, invoking Emperor Kin’s name where possible and closing out with a recommendation that he make peace with the change as Syan had prospered under his governorship and it would be a pity to have to replace him.
For the rest of the day I entertained myself imagining his grovelling capitulation, but when a reply eventually came General Moto looked even more grim. “It says, ‘Kiyoshio Accords paragraph six, line two.’ And was delivered with this scroll.” He held it out. “I took the liberty of reading the part in question, and well, I think we can blame years of pirate raids for this.”
I found the line.
Where the Master of Kiyoshio Castle does not hold the title of duke as bestowed upon them by an envowed Emperor of Kisia, that Master has no authority over the city or any of its inhabitants and will be treated as an invader.
“We aren’t going to get him,” I said, dropping the scroll on the windowsill. The distant lights of people holding torches outside the gates went on bobbing around like a swarm of fireflies. “Beyond keeping the city gate open, can he harm us here?”
“Not directly. He has his own personal guards along with those who protect the city, but it’s not enough to go up against our defences. The danger is not immediate, but if you don’t get Governor Koali on your side soon, a protracted siege will be the best possible outcome.”
“Fascinating how it changes from being our problem to being my problem as soon as there’s trouble.”
He drew himself up and tucked his hands behind his back as he always did when defensive or annoyed. “A mere figure of speech, Your Majesty. This is naturally everyone’s problem.”
Despite his assurance, I lay awake long into the night, thoughts bouncing from Governor Koali to the absent Minister Manshin to the crowd outside the gates and inevitably back to the staring dead face of Captain Soku. I couldn’t rid myself of the fear General Moto wanted me gone, and only the knowledge that General Ryoji himself stood outside my door allowed me eventually to sleep.
Like a morbid rooster, General Moto once again heralded the morning by reading the messages that had arrived in the night and discussing plans for the day. I stared at my uneaten food and listened, a heavy sense of hopelessness weighing upon me.
“There has been no further communication from Governor Koali,” he said, seeming to be running through a mental list with his customary way of blurting information. “It may be best to consider another missive. Or perhaps it is time to risk sending for him to meet in person, if we—”
A soldier hurried in. “There you are, General! Your Majesty!”
“What is it, man?” Moto asked, annoyed.
“It’s… he’s…” The soldier gasped a breath. “At the gate… just arrived…”
My heart stopped on the words, sure now it had all been for nothing. Bahain was at the gates. Governor Koali would let him in and we would all be dead by tomorrow.
“Who is at the gates?”
The soldier let out a long breath. “Minister Manshin. And some Levanti.”
“What?” I said. “Captured Levanti?”
“I… don’t think so, Your Majesty. Some of them look injured, but for the most part they look… friendly. No, not friendly, but not a threat. They seem to be here by choice, with the minister.”
“How many?”
“A hundred and forty or fifty? Maybe more, it’s hard to tell, Your Majesty, I’m sorry.”
I leapt up, straightening my sash and surcoat. “Where’s Manshin?”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” he said, following me out into the passage. “They had only just given the order to open the gates when I came running, so he may still be in the courtyard or…”
“Did you make sure they put down their weapons before allowing them inside?” General Moto demanded, keeping pace more easily than the younger man despite the thickness of his figure.
“Yes, General. The one that can translate relayed the request. They didn’t seem pleased, but when the one with the big bone crown and the injured man put theirs down, no one argued.”
“Bone crown?” I said. “Did the translator give his name?”
“Tor, I believe, Your Majesty.”
My breath caught in my throat and I hurried on, as fast as I could without breaking into a run—something my mother would never have done. People wait for empresses, she would have said; be an empress. With the general following, I sped down the stairs, only slowing to a proper walk as I descended into the entry hall. None of the torches were lit, but the room was full of light and people, and I tried to remember to breathe as I hunted the gathering for—
I pulled in a breath and held it, my heart thumping. Rah. There. Alive, clearly injured and changed in the short time since we had parted, but alive. Since the fire at Mei’lian I had feared the worst, and my legs trembled with relief as I let go that secret dread. It had been a long few days, and I just wanted to sit down and spill tears, to let the fear and the gratitude, the sorrow and the excitement drain out. But I was an empress. I could no sooner do that than I could run down there and throw my arms around him despite the promptings of my joy.
; I swallowed a manic little laugh as they all looked up, one after the other. Rah had been speaking to Tor and was one of the last, but the smile that lit his bruised features had the same effect on me as a dozen bowls of wine. I’d have had to bite my own lips off to keep a smile from spreading them, however briefly.
“You stand now before Her Imperial Majesty,” General Moto intoned from behind me. “Empress Miko Ts’ai, first of her name, Lord—” He faltered just a moment. There had never been an empress who ruled in her own right before. “—Lord Protector of the Kisian Empire.”
I had not wished to be announced so grandly, yet the proclamation steadied me as nothing else could, returning my thoughts back to the ceremony of the imperial court. I might have railed against the stiff etiquette in which my mother had schooled me, might have slipped away to spend every moment filling targets with arrows, but the imperial ways still lived in my blood, its habits hard to shake.
Drawing myself up, I sailed down the stairs as my mother might once have done, halting on the third step from the bottom, which she would have insisted on, and stood a proud statue before the Levanti, gaze deliberately skipping over Rah as I swept the gathered warriors.
I turned toward Tor, the only one I knew for sure would understand me. His jaw set and he met my gaze with defiance. No doubt he was thinking of the last time he had been in this castle. “Tor e’Torin,” I said. “Introduce your companions to me.”
The young man stepped forward, pushing loose strands of wet hair off his face. “Yes… Your Majesty.” There was a note of gritted teeth in his reply, but he turned to the tall woman in the centre of the group, a crown of bones atop her head. She had the presence and appearance of a queen, yet what little I knew of the Levanti had led me to believe they had no such thing. “This is Horse Whisperer Ezma e’Topi.” He gestured to the man beside her. “And Derkka en’Injit, her apprentice. Rah e’Torin you already know, and—”
“And which of them speaks for you?”
