Taji From Beyond the Rings

by R. Cooper

  Trenne had faced danger before. If he was afraid, he was dealing with it, and he didn’t need to worry about Taji as well.

  Although he probably was. Taji accepted that. Trenne had assigned people to watch over Taji and Tsomyal during the hunt for a reason. He knew—probably—what he was facing, and had chosen it as though Taji were really his.

  Someone like that should have a real shehzha to please them and worship them in what might be their final hours. Taji had imagined it. He had imagined it long before he’d even heard the word shehzha. He’d thought of it again as he’d cleaned himself, while the door was closed between them. He could plead quietly or directly offer, and it was possible Trenne would say yes.

  But someone who believed in the role of shehzha so much shouldn’t have it as a lie. Taji still thought of it, gaze resolutely turned away from the sight Trenne made. The safety Trenne offered would extend to all things, Taji had no doubt of that. Shehzha were supposedly the ones to give, but Taji suspected that was a misleading turn of phrase, some old euphemism for passivity. All the giving was on the eshe, and Trenne, with his complete commitment to the company he’d sworn an oath to, to his teammates and to Taji, would be the one to happily give anything asked of him.

  That was how that scene with Larin and Elii should have gone. Taji trembled at the realization. The shame was not the shehzha’s. It was the eshe’s. An eshe was permitted to be soft, to have no mask, intentionally. In Larin’s place, with his shehzha in front of dozens of witnesses, Trenne would have asked to take Taji someplace private if necessary. Trenne would have done anything to protect his shehzha, without hesitation.

  In private…it was better that Taji not think of that now. It made his chest ache.

  Trenne’s voice pulled Taji from his painful musing. “Why don’t you rest?” Taji shot Trenne a stinging look that made both of Trenne’s ears stand up. “Have I angered you?”

  “I’m worried,” Taji informed him, in a tone that he hoped conveyed the silent, you dick. The muscles in Trenne’s shoulders started to shake the longer he held himself up. Taji narrowed his eyes. “I’d prefer you not die tomorrow—today.” He had no clue what time it was supposed to be. “And all I can think is if I—”

  “There is nothing you can do,” Trenne interrupted. “And nothing you should do. It will only bring more of Larin’s attention on you.”

  “Shit!” Taji barely remembered to keep his voice down. His heart was racing. “Fuck,” he added, with feeling, and rolled over to put his back to Trenne.

  “It is not usual for you to lack words to express your meaning,” Trenne said, almost hesitant.

  “I don’t lack them. I can’t say them,” Taji sharply informed him. “I’m worried about you. The others, too,” he dropped his voice even lower, slightly ashamed of himself. “But mostly you. Larin’s attention is on you now, okay? I’m anxious and there is nothing I can do to help you. Tomorrow, today, whenever, I have to sit on my hands and wonder for hours. I literally have no way to do a single thing. It’s Larin’s fault, but it feels like it’s mine. I’m not even yours.” He faltered. “Not in any way to make it worth this for you,” he tacked on quickly. “In fact, no shehzha would be worth your death, Trenne. But you don’t want to hear that, especially not from me, so I have nothing to say and nothing to do, and I can’t sleep.”

  “I will decide what my honor is worth.” Trenne didn’t raise his voice or change his tone. His steadfastness was him planting his feet stubbornly. “It is a hurat’s honor, but it is mine.”

  Taji turned back over to look at him. Trenne was standing, half-dressed and unarmed, his hands at his sides. Taji swallowed. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “I know.” Trenne flicked one ear, and tipped his head to the side, not a smile, but something soft meant for Taji to see. “That is why I do this.” His gaze was too heavy with everything on Taji’s mind. Taji looked away but Trenne didn’t. “You should rest.”

  Taji’s sigh was heartfelt. “I can’t.” He directed a frown at Trenne’s shoulder, which was easier than meeting Trenne’s stare with tomorrow looming over them. “Anyway, so should you.”

  Trenne took a half step forward, then stopped. Taji wondered what his ears were doing, but still could not look up.

  As if Trenne was waiting for just that, it took him another moment to speak. “May I be permitted on the bed with you?”

  Apparently, Taji’s brief show of temper had made Trenne hesitant. Taji shut his eyes, because he couldn’t face this now without doing something foolish. He sighed, louder. “You know damn well you’re permitted here.”

  “With you, I would never presume.” Trenne climbed onto the bed without a single noise. Taji only knew from the weight next to him and his body heat.

  Presume away, Taji thought. He opened his eyes and was confronted with Trenne’s bare chest. He exhaled slowly.

  “I have another thing to ask of you, if you will allow it.” Trenne tread carefully, as if Taji was the danger here.

  Taji braced himself before looking up into Trenne’s pretty eyes. He still wasn’t prepared.

  He could feel the vibrations from Trenne’s chest when he spoke. “If it pleases you, I would like to comfort you in the manner humans do.”

  Processing that was harder than marveling at Trenne’s oddly formal tone. That was not simply his grasp of Anglisky. Trenne chose to talk like this. For the life of him, Taji couldn’t understand why, or even think to ask about it.

  “You want to touch me?” Taji whispered finally. He gave Trenne a jerky nod, then scooted closer too eagerly, so his face was nearly hidden against Trenne’s throat, and his knees brushed Trenne’s legs.

  Trenne placed one hand at Taji’s back, part of his arm warm across Taji’s side. Taji thought, a little hysterically, that this shouldn’t relax him. And yet if anything could in this moment, it would be the already familiar weight of Trenne’s hand on him.

  “Is there nothing I can do for you?” he asked recklessly, desperately, in a hoarse voice. He wished Trenne would read what he really meant, then wanted Trenne to never know. He couldn’t tell which it was.

  The silence stretched out, with Trenne breathing shallowly. Then Trenne’s hand twitched against Taji’s back.

  “If it pleases you,” Trenne said, and it was as if he was fighting not to say it at all, “I would like…tomorrow, if the emperor is there, if you are there to see, before or after this hunt, I…” Trenne splayed his fingers over Taji’s skin, warm through Taji’s thin shirt. “I would like for no one to doubt that…”

  “For no one to doubt I’m your shehzha?” Taji guessed anyway, and was answered with a silence that meant yes. “That I am utterly devoted to you?” he added softly. “That I will ache for you while you are gone?”

  He wondered if Trenne was embarrassed. “I would not ask. But—”

  “They are trying to dishonor you.” Taji nodded sympathetically, pretending he wasn’t flushed or anxious or that he wouldn’t do the same right now even without witnesses. “I understand. And I will. I can, and I will. You’re right to ask me. It will be realer than anything Larin has, I promise.” He should shut up. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t. “They will have to pull me away from you.”

  He didn’t think he imagined Trenne leaning in or drawing him closer. “I will fight to keep you.”

  Taji realized he was shaking. “Don’t die tomorrow,” he ordered bluntly, uselessly.

  Trenne lifted his hand and resettled it at the base of Taji’s neck. His breath stirred Taji’s hair. “Yes, Taji shehzha.”

  Chapter Nine

  TAJI WOKE to an empty bed and Nev at the door, ready to take him to Tsomyal. The time was hard to judge, but he guessed it was early, and cleaned and dressed as quickly as he could. Markita was with Nev, which meant the final hunting party was most likely comprised of Trenne, Lin, Nadir, and Rodian.

  Nev was stone-faced, which Taji didn’t take personally. The Imperial Guards stayed close to them. Taji sipped
his tea and did his best not to get in anyone’s way, and didn’t speak until he was in Tsomyal’s room, alone with Tsomyal.

  Not a single item from Tsomyal’s luggage was visible on any of the room’s surfaces, as though the ambassador had not and would not unpack. Tsomyal was dressed in a thick, dark robe and half-reclined across some pillows in their bed. Despite the clear signs of exhaustion, their eyes were alert and intent on Taji.

  They took in his somewhat worse for wear soria and the return of some shimmer across his lip, his cup of tea, his expression. “You’re angry about this.”

  Taji put the cup down on what was either some kind of table or some kind of art with enough force to splash tea onto his hand. “You volunteered them for something that could get them killed, and it’s definitely not something IPTC would have required of them!”

  IPTC wouldn’t care, except possibly to mourn the investment they’d put into training soldiers with special skills.

  “You incited the emperor,” Tsomyal reminded him. “I did what I could to show him we were strong.”

  Taji impatiently licked tea off his hand. “Who cares if—”

  “Mr. Ameyo.” Tsomyal heaved a breath and leaned more of their weight onto the pillows, which suddenly seemed the only thing holding up their frail body. “This emperor does not want the I.P.T.C. here and many of his people agree with him. Whether we have the right to be here, of course, does not matter. IPTC will come. But how is a matter of choice—the choice of whoever is emperor.” Tsomyal closed their eyes, as though potential coups were exhausting. “IPTC will come in force, or it will come as traders, but it will come. You know that as well as I do. All of us serve them because we have to, but we try to give ourselves some control.”

  Taji understood that, but…“The Sha are all about control. But it’s an illusion.”

  “Yes.” Tsomyal opened their eyes. “Larin’s hold is not strong.”

  “On the country, on his nobles, or on himself?” Taji sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his arms. “Never mind. The end result is the same. Fuck.”

  They were in the middle of something bad. IPTC had left them on their own in the middle of a collapsing empire.

  “Another could take his place. Or he will come to his senses. Or he will kill us all.” Tsomyal watched Taji carefully, but didn’t rise from their pillows. “Whatever happens to us, most of the planet will be dominated by what decisions are made now. It might make things easier if the I.P.T.C. is seen as compatible with Sha values. Larin does not have the inclination to back down from a challenge even momentarily, even when it suits his interests. You made him feel small; he has decided to do the same to you.”

  Taji put his head in his hands. “So we hunt.”

  “So we hunt,” Tsomyal agreed. “So we have a shehzha.”

  “Glad that my being a public spectacle is finally of use to someone,” Taji grumbled. “They don’t like that part.”

  “Their rules.” Tsomyal braced themselves, then struggled to sit up. “It’s not our fault they left a loophole.”

  “Now you sound like an IPTC employee.” Despite his irritation, Taji hurried over to help Tsomyal get to their feet. He tactfully retreated while they straightened their robes.

  “I am very tired.” Tsomyal stood straight, as if in defiance of those words. “I am not well, Mr. Ameyo, and have not been in some time. I think perhaps this is a test, for Larin to bring me here, to have me sit next to him and eat his food.”

  They had never referred to the incident directly, the death of Taji’s predecessor, the reason for Tsomyal’s frailty. “You think it was him? You think he ordered it?”

  “If not him, it might as well have been. He has made his attitude clear and many want to please him. One does not have to wield the blade to be the killer.” Tsomyal gestured to one of their bags, so Taji went over to it. Another robe was inside. Tsomyal probably wanted it for extra warmth. Taji slowly helped them into it. “The questions now, Mr. Ameyo, are who of his nobles agrees with him, and who does not, and who has sufficient power to do anything about it?”

  Taji stopped. “What about us?”

  “Soldiers.” The combined weight of the robes had to be a strain, but Tsomyal was steady. “Even the sergeant major, as remarkable and determined as he is, is still just a soldier.”

  “You’re not.” Taji pulled a gossamer shawl from the bag and draped that over Tsomyal’s shoulders to give them something like shimmer. “I’m not.”

  “No, you are not.” Tsomyal patted the shawl in surprise, but left it. “You were quite unexpected. You have immersed yourself in the culture more than I would have thought, certainly more than your predecessors did. I hope your records are stored and in order for those who come after.”

  Tsomyal said that too easily. Taji swallowed.

  “Was it wrong to?” he asked at last. “Language and culture are sort of bound together.”

  “Wrong?” Tsomyal’s sometimes unnerving gaze swung to him. “No. But you have drawn the attention of the one person it might have been better to avoid, and there is nothing to be done now but to see what will happen. How much do they truly honor their shehzha?”

  “Who will run to my rescue, you mean,” Taji corrected bitterly.

  “Yes—aside from the sergeant major.” Tsomyal turned to him and elected to ignore Taji’s stunned gaping.

  “He has a mission here,” Taji explained, although Tsomyal barely reacted.

  “I told you very little would change, aside from some biochemistry.” Tsomyal brushed something from Taji’s soria. “But human bodies and biological imperatives are not my current concern. At least, not one of my more important current concerns. Sha emperors lead by example. They are figureheads. The best at war, or statecraft, or trade—whatever is needed to keep the empire strong. But, as you must have noticed, this is not a true empire. This is a conglomeration of various territories controlled by noble families. Perhaps that is all it has ever been.”

  “And what, the emperor keeps them in line by being better than them? Or uses fear of the Guard?” Taji shook his head. “That wasn’t the impression I got from the histories. If the emperor doesn’t subdue or please the nobles…he must have spies. Otherwise, nobles could rise against him easily. That’s probably the Guard’s role too, right? He has the obvious ones, like my two guard dogs, and then less obvious ones.” Taji paused. “Probably working as servants; the rich never look at staff. But the Guard rarely come out in force. They’re not supposed to have to. It doesn’t reflect well on an emperor who has to use them as an army. Maybe that’s why the Guard have such a weird history.”

  Tsomyal watched Taji as he recalibrated and reconsidered the state of anxiety the nobles lived in. “There isn’t supposed to be in-fighting on a massive scale. The emperor is supposed to use the Guard to maintain the status quo. An emperor who loses control enough to require the Guard to act in full force isn’t much of an emperor. They exist to keep peace, or at least calm. The nobles see to the day to day running of the country—in theory—and the emperor sees to the nobles.” Taji inhaled sharply.

  “That’s why everyone is so unnerved by Larin. The violence, the threat of it, isn’t the scary part to them. He has upset their entire social order, and meanwhile, IPTC is at the door. Their histories might be full of bloody battles and renegade families seizing power through murder, but none of these nobles has lived through anything on that scale.” Taji caught his breath. “Shit. Is Larin daring them to attack him?”

  “You are missing a key point in this game, Mr. Ameyo.” Tsomyal mimicked a human smile, but it was calculating, not happy. “A recent addition to the board.”

  They meant him. But Shavians had been the ones to decide what Taji was. “I didn’t mean to do anything!” he protested.

  Tsomyal looked at him sideways. “Not at first,” they agreed before abruptly moving toward the door. “And I encouraged it. I wanted to see who would respond, and it seemed harmless since you were already attached to th
e sergeant major.”

  Taji sighed and let his shoulders fall.

  Tsomyal stopped without opening the door, head cocked. “Quickly. What are your impressions now, for our hunt?”

  Taji bit his lip before he could say the words, for a viable emperor for IPTC, out loud. It was possible Tsomyal meant a viable emperor for our survival. They might end up being one and the same.

  “Rinnah is willing to learn Anglisky, which means she could be forward-thinking. But she isn’t going to put herself out there with the nobles and the Guards, at least, not yet. She relies on Mos to control things for her. Maybe emperors are allowed to do that, but everyone keeps referring to Mos as Inri and it seems negative. But Rinnah overall is a likely candidate and everyone knows it, including Larin. I have no idea if she would be what the Sha need, but that’s not really IPTC’s concern, is it?” He realized he was all but chewing his lip in anxiety. “But she would try to avoid a war. I think she won’t hunt because a direct fight isn’t her style. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, to the Sha.”