"Ashi, you’ll squeeze the life out of me!” Jelena gasped. Ashinji loosened his fierce hold and cradled her body more gently against his.
“I’m sorry, my love…it’s just I still can’t believe I’m not going to lose you,” he whispered into her ear. Jelena caressed his cheek and entwined her fingers in his hair. She lay her head on his chest and felt the steady, slow pulse of his heart beneath his skin. A delicious lassitude weighted down her limbs. She wished never to move from this place.
It had been a long, emotionally exhausting night, and the two of them had only just crawled into their bed, after closing the shutters against the rosy glow of dawn. The king had provided her with an escort back to the Sakehera family quarters, and after thanking and leaving them at the door, she had entered to find Ashinji and both his parents awaiting her return.
Sen and Amara exchanged embraces with her, but neither one asked any questions; still, Jelena knew her in-laws would expect a full account after she had gotten some much needed rest. Sen had promised to allow her and Ashinji to sleep undisturbed for as long as they wished.
Now snug beneath the coverlets, Jelena’s mind drifted for a while in the gray country between the waking world and the realm of dreams. At first, she remained aware of the comforting warmth of Ashinji’s body next to hers, but gradually, she lost all sense of him as her consciousness slipped away and she found herself walking alone on a featureless, unending plain.
A leaden sky merged with the dull horizon. She felt no breath of wind, nor heard any sound. Off in the distance, she spied a peculiar splash of color and altered her course to move toward it.
The blot of color gradually came into focus as Jelena drew closer, resolving itself into the figure of a woman. She stood straight and regal as a queen. She wore a long gown of vivid flame-red, form-fitting and low cut, a perfect match to the fiery tresses that cascaded around her shoulders. A mask, porcelain-smooth and white as bone, concealed the woman’s face. Only her eyes were visible, sea-green and glowing with chilly intensity. A round black stone, hung upon a gold chain, nestled in the cleft between her pale breasts.
Jelena’s eyes were drawn to the stone almost against her will and as she stared into its depths-helpless to look away-she realized that the stone seemed alive somehow. She shuddered in horror as the malignant intelligence coiled within its crystalline structure extended a tendril to caress her mind. Jelena moaned in fear and tried to run, but her feet had merged with the gray dust, trapping her where she stood.
You cannot run, little one, the woman crooned in a voice as sweet as honey. Nor can you escape your fate. He will have the Key, and his triumph will be assured.
Without warning, the woman raised her hand and struck Jelena’s face. A blood-red fingernail, sharp as a dagger, scored a burning trail across her cheek.
Jelena screamed…
…and awoke, fighting for breath.
“Jelena! I’m here…you’re safe, love!” Ashinji pinned her flailing arms to her sides and held her tight as she struggled. “You were having a bad dream, that’s all, but you’re safe now!”
The surreal terror of the dream leaked from her body, leaving her weak and trembling. “I feel sick,” she whispered, and pushing out of Ashinji’s arms, she fumbled for the chamber pot.
Ashinji rubbed her back as she purged. Afterward, she lay against the pillows, drained and miserable as he stroked her hair and face with gentle fingers. “Can you handle a little wine, or perhaps tea would be better?” he asked.
“Tea, I think,” Jelena answered.
“I’ll just get rid of this,” Ashinji said, gingerly picking up the chamber pot as he left the bed. Jelena heard him slip through the bedroom door and pad down the stairs. Her stomach did another roll and it took all of her concentration not to vomit once more. She wondered at the vividness of the strange dream and its unsettling effect on her. She had experienced nightmares before, but never had they resulted in physical illness.
She opened her eyes at the sound of Ashinji’s return. He carried a tray with a teapot and two cups, along with a small round loaf of bread. He carefully placed the tray on the bed.
“The family’s up and eating breakfast. Mother thought a little plain bread would help to settle your stomach,” he said.
“Ugh, I don’t know, Ashi. Maybe just the tea.” Jelena sat up and leaned forward to allow Ashinji to mound the pillows behind her back. He filled both cups with the hot brew and placed one in her hands. Tentatively, she raised the cup to her lips and took a small sip.
The morning sun glowed through the shutters of their bedroom window. By the strength of the light, Jelena guessed it to be well past dawn. She had only been asleep a couple of hours, at most. Ashinji drank his tea in silence, studying her over the rim of his cup with worried eyes.
“I suppose we’d better get up and get dressed. I don’t think either of us will sleep any more today.” Jelena sighed and took another, larger sip of her tea.
“How do you feel?” Ashinji asked.
“Better. The tea is definitely helping.” Her rebellious stomach did not feel in quite such an uproar any longer.
“Tell me about your dream.”
Jelena sorted the images in her mind, trying to make sense of them, then recapped her vision as best she could recall. “I had the same dream once before, or one very much like it, except the woman in the red gown wasn’t there that time,” she added. “She frightened me, Ashi. I felt like I was in the presence of evil, but it didn’t seem to come directly from her, which was odd. It came from the strange stone she wore around her neck. What can all this mean?”
“Dreams aren’t literal. Their imagery is symbolic,” Ashinji explained. “The woman could represent an actual enemy…or an ally, sent to warn you. One of the most common manifestations of Talent is lucid and prophetic dreaming. My own small Talent manifests that way. I dreamt of you long before I found you on that riverbank. This woman in the red gown…she spoke to you of a key… A key to what, I wonder?”
“Oh!” Jelena exclaimed. ““With all the worry and excitement about my meeting with the king…I completely forgot to tell you!”
“Tell me what?”
“Yesterday evening, right after you and your father and brother went to meet with the king, your mother sat me down and told me she knew all about my blue fire.” After she had repeated to Ashinji what Amara had told her, she shook her head and said, “I still have trouble believing any of it is true, but how can it not be? Your mother has said it is so.”
Ashinji tugged hard on the rings in his ear, frowning. “Why didn’t my mother tell me any of this?”
“Perhaps she did not wish to worry you. Ashi, your mother says that the Kirian Society can deal with…this key thing.”
Ashinji shook his head and a stray lock of hair fell across his eyes. He brushed it away impatiently. He took her face between his hands and looked deep into her eyes. “Whatever this all means, if it bodes danger for you, I will protect you.” He kissed her on the lips then, with visible effort, smiled and said, “A delivery came for you just now.”
Jelena raised an eyebrow. “Who would want to send me anything?” she asked.
“I think it’s from the king,” Ashinji replied, pausing for dramatic effect.
“What? What is it?” Jelena cried, goaded by the look of sly amusement on her husband’s face.
“I saw a most becoming tunic and trousers in green and blue with a matching pair of slippers. Quite suitable for a high-born lady, or, dare I say, a princess? Shall I go get them, or perhaps you’d rather keep your old clothes?”
Jelena growled and playfully punched Ashinji’s shoulder. “I’ll take the new things, thank you very much!” she exclaimed, then sighed and looked down at her hands. “I may be the king’s daughter, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the idea of being a princess,” she remarked softly.
Ashinji did not reply, and when Jelena looked at him to gauge his thoughts, she could see the war he waged with his feelings-apprehension and happiness together made of his face a shifting landscape of emotion. She knew Ashinji found it just as hard to process the stunning change in her circumstances as she did, and Jelena believed she understood why.
All of her life, she had struggled with feelings of inferiority. Because she had believed herself unworthy of it, she had almost let the blessing of true love slip through her fingers. Now, the man who had freely given her this most precious of gifts suffered from the very feelings that had afflicted her for so long.
“I love you, Ashi,” she murmured. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what.”
“I’m only a captain in the army, my love,” Ashinji said. “I have nothing but what my father, and when he’s gone, my brother, chooses to give me.” He hung his head as he spoke. “You’ve said to me in the past that you felt you were not worthy of me, but in truth…it is I who is not worthy of you, Jelena.” The pain in his voice tore at Jelena’s heart.
“Stop talking nonsense, Ashinji Sakehera!” she chided. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “You are stuck with me. Did you not promise to always protect me?”
“Yes, but…”
“But nothing! I am proud to be an army captain’s wife… Here, let me show you.”
She pushed him down and straddled his hips. As their bodies joined in the timeless rite of lovemaking, Jelena strove to drive out all of Ashinji’s doubts with the strength of her passion. Afterward, as they lay in each other’s arms, the steady rise and fall of Ashinji’s chest soon lulled Jelena back to sleep.
She awoke a short time later to find Ashinji propped on one elbow, watching her. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About an hour. Mother just knocked. She says it’s time for you to get up and get dressed.”
Jelena sat up and stretched. “She’s presenting me to the other members of the Kirian Society today,” she said.
“Oh, yes. My mother’s mysterious society of mages. I had no idea she even still practiced magic until she started tutoring you. The idea that this ‘blue fire’ of yours must be removed from you because it’s too dangerous for it to remain where it is…it scares me, love.” He huffed in annoyance. “I just wish she’d told me about all of this herself.”
“Please try not to worry, Ashi,” Jelena said, stroking his cheek.
“Impossible,” he replied. He rolled out of bed and crossed to the window to crack open the shutters. Jelena smiled with admiration. The sight of Ashi’s bare backside made her want to drag him back to bed for another lovemaking session, but she knew Amara waited downstairs.
“How do you feel?” he asked, pulling a robe over his nakedness. “Nausea all gone?”
“Yes, thanks,” Jelena replied. “The tea really helped. Truth be told, I haven’t felt myself lately…I just hope I’m not coming down with the flux.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“What? You’ve been ill and you didn’t tell me?” Ashinji came over and sat beside her, frowning. “How long has this been going on?”
Jelena sighed. “Since Nadaka Castle…”
“Nadaka Castle!” Ashinji cried. “That was over a week ago!”
“Yes, I know, but really…Ashi, it’s nothing. I didn’t want to worry you.”
“You didn’t want to…”
Jelena laid a finger on his lips to forestall any further outburst. “Hush, Husband. It’s nothing. Truly.”
“Everyone is keeping secrets from me,” Ashinji muttered crossly.
Jelena kissed him. “I love you, Husband,” she said, and her words seemed to mollify him. “Now, where are my new clothes?”
Ashinji stood and went to scoop up a bundle by the door. “Your new raiment, my princess,” he announced in his best imitation of a court herald’s pompous voice. He held out the garments with a flourish. “My mother brought them up.” Jelena took the clothing from him and spent a moment admiring their color and cut.
“My father is a man with exquisite taste,” she commented.
Having no time for a proper bath, they had to make do with a ewer and washbasin. Afterward, Jelena put on her new outfit, marveling at the luxurious feel of the fabric. It brought back the bittersweet memory of the gown she had worn on that fateful Sansa night at Amsara Castle, nearly a year ago.
Ashinji, as usual, donned his plain, soldier’s leathers. When he had finished dressing, he sat down at the end of the bed. Jelena braided his hair in a single queue, a task she had taken to doing for him each morning, just as he had made it his job to comb the snarls from her mane each evening. These small, loving gestures served to strengthen the bond between them.
When she had secured the braid with a leather tie, she stepped back and he stood and turned to face her. He raised his hands as if to touch her, then lowered them to his sides. “You…you look beautiful,” he whispered. “Your Highness.”
“No, Ashi, never ‘Highness’ to you,” she insisted, shaking her head. “Only ‘Jelena’ or ‘my love’.”
He nodded and offered her his arm. “Allow a simple soldier to escort his lady, then,” he replied.
She smiled and slipped her arm through his.
From atop its lofty perch on the blue tiled roof of the keep’s north tower, the raven watched and waited. Or rather, the intelligence that had enslaved the bird and now used its eyes waited, knowing that soon, the woman would come to walk in the garden below.
The bird held a shiny black stone within its beak. It knew nothing of the purpose of the stone; in fact, it knew nothing at all. The mind that now controlled the bird’s body had obliterated the tiny part of its brain that had contained its rudimentary self awareness. It served as a tool, nothing more.
The sun passed zenith, and still, the raven waited.
At last, the woman came, as she always did, alone except for a small, silky-haired dog capering by her side.
The raven spread its wings and sprang from the roof. It glided unsteadily downward and came to a rough landing on the gravel path at the woman’s feet. The stone tumbled from its beak.
The woman let out a startled cry and the little dog jumped back in a frenzy of barking. The raven stretched out its neck and squawked.
The woman swiftly recovered her composure. She turned and scooped the dog into her arms. “Hush, Jewel!” she scolded, and clutching the struggling animal to her breast, she approached the bird where it crouched upon the path, unmoving. She stopped a few paces away and stood regarding the raven with cool sea-green eyes, her sensuous mouth twisted a little in puzzlement.
The aura of her Talent outlined her body in a fiery halo.
He knew she was the right choice.
From across the vast distance that separated them, through sheer force of will, the Nameless One summoned a wave of energy and sent it spinning through the aether. It tore through the frail body of the raven and blasted the woman between her eyes. She fell backward onto the ground, her brilliant red hair fanning out on the gravel beneath her head. The dog tumbled out of her arms and fled, yapping in terror.
He spoke to the woman, mind to mind.
When he finished, he withdrew, leaving behind a link with which he could join with her when needed.
The ultimate tool was prepared and ready to use. It would bring the Key to him so he could complete the Working.
Deep within the icy darkness of his prison, the Nameless One writhed in pleasured anticipation of his freedom.
Back in the garden, the woman awoke from her swoon. She moaned softly and massaged the back of her head, but despite the pain, her eyes sparkled with understanding. She rose to her knees and searched the path until she found the black stone. Clutching it tightly in her hand, she climbed to her feet.
As she turned to run back toward the keep, the hem of her gown scattered a pile of scorched, black feathers.
“Jelena, these two of my colleagues, plus myself, are the only fully active members of the Kirian Society,” Amara stated. She inclined her head toward the two women who sat, side by side, on a silk-upholstered couch. “Princess Taya Onjara, wife of the king’s Heir and Mistress of the Society,” she indicated the older of the two with a nod, then acknowledged the younger, “…and Lady Sonoe Kazama, official Companion of the king.”
Jelena bowed low, in the elven style.
“Her manners are good, at least,” Princess Taya commented. “Come here, child, and sit. We have much to discuss.” Jelena quickly obeyed, settling cross-legged on a floor cushion at the feet of the two women. Amara pulled up a chair and sat to the right of the couch.
No one spoke for a long while, or at least, not out loud. Jelena kept her eyes on her folded hands, but she did not need to see the faces of the three women to know that they conversed in mindspeech. A surge of irritation threatened her composure, but she quickly suppressed it. The Kirians would address her when they had need to.
At last, Princess Taya spoke. “Jelena, I can only imagine the immense emotional strain you’ve had to endure in so short a time. How do you feel about all of this?” Jelena looked up sharply, surprised by the question.
“How do I feel?” She studied each of their faces, worried that this was some sort of test, and if she gave the wrong answer, they would deem her unworthy. She ran her tongue over lips gone dry and cleared her throat before answering. “I feel…uncertain. I mean, I am overjoyed to have finally found my father, and relieved that he accepts me, but…but my presence may cause him a lot of trouble, and I don’t want that. As for the other, I have to admit that I am still struggling to understand just what part I am to play in this upcoming battle with…with…”
“The Nameless One,” Lady Sonoe said, finishing Jelena’s sentence. Her green eyes shimmered hypnotically. Jelena bit her lip.
There’s something about her…
Jelena felt as if she had met her father’s Companion before, though she knew she had never laid eyes upon the striking red-haired sorceress until now.
Suddenly, she remembered.
My dream!
“Do you know why we do not speak the true name of our adversary?” Lady Sonoe asked.
Jelena nodded. “A thousand years ago, when the Kirians defeated the sorcerer king Onjara, they stripped him of his power and erased all references to his true name from the records,” she answered.
Lady Sonoe could be the woman I saw in the dream, but…but then that must mean the vision showed me an ally…not an enemy. Why, then, did I feel so afraid?
Aloud, she continued, “The Kirians did this to prevent the power of his name from falling into the wrong hands…of those who might use it to awaken him and usurp his magic for their own purposes.”
“Very good.” Princess Taya inclined her head in approval. “Amara says you are clever and a quick study. There is much to do to prepare you, but I have no doubt that you’ll be ready. Now, there is just one final ordeal you’ll undergo today. Sonoe and I must scan you. We both need to see for ourselves just what it is that you harbor.”
Jelena took a deep breath; she had been expecting this. “May I lie down?”
“Of course,” Princess Taya replied. Jelena made herself comfortable, closed her eyes, and waited.
This scan didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first one Amara had performed on her back at Kerala. Jelena found the discomfort far more bearable because of the special breathing technique her mother-in-law had taught her. Even so, she felt wrung out and a little sick afterward. She remained prone until Amara lifted her into a sitting position and pressed a cup to her lips.
“Drink this, Daughter. It will ease you,” Amara urged. Jelena swallowed a mouthful of the pungent, bitter liquid, gagged, then forced herself to swallow again. Almost immediately, she felt better. Resting her head against Amara’s shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that clung to her mother-in-law’s skin and clothing, a profound sense of peace seeped into her bones. Briefly, Jelena wondered if this was an effect of the drug she had just ingested, but then she decided to enjoy the sensation and not question its origins.
She allowed Amara to ease her back onto the pillows. She could hear the three women murmuring above her but it sounded more like the sighing of the sea heard from afar. She fell into a light doze, and when she awoke, she found herself lying in her own bed, still fully dressed. Someone had thoughtfully removed her shoes.
The drug Amara had given her had the desired effect; Jelena’s fatigue and nausea-aftereffects of the mind scan-had dissipated. She felt as refreshed as if she’d slept an entire night, though the quality of the light streaming in from the bedroom window told her that no more than a couple of hours had passed, at most.
Plenty of time to go down into the city , she thought. Ashinji had left the family quarters shortly after breakfast in order to reunite with his company and spend the day with them. Jelena did not expect to see him again until evening, so she would have to go on her own.
No matter, it’ll be an adventure. I’d better change clothes, though. Don’t want to risk getting my fancy new outfit dirty.
The Sakehera quarters were quiet and still as Jelena made her way downstairs. The entire family must be out, she thought as she departed and made her way to the front of the castle complex, where she paused just outside the main gates to scan the vast sweep of the parade ground. Thin wisps of cloud smeared the otherwise perfect cerulean of the sky. She glanced over at the impassive guards standing motionless at their posts. They all stared straight ahead, ignoring her. She pulled a wide-brimmed hat down on her head and set off across the empty expanse, gravel crunching beneath her boots.
As she walked, Jelena thought about all that had transpired over the last two days, and, not for the first time, a swooping feeling of unreality seized her. The ground beneath her feet had, metaphorically, shifted so drastically that she felt uncertain if she would have the ability to walk the new terrain. She reached up to touch the familiar, comforting shape of her father’s ring, back in its accustomed place beneath her tunic. The king had returned it to her and had promised to have a smaller copy made to fit her finger.
He had made no other promises, but this did not surprise or upset her. Jelena wanted nothing from Keizo Onjara that he did not wish to freely give her.
It’s enough that he’s acknowledged and accepted me as his daughter.
As for the Kirian Society, she still didn’t know what to make of them. Clearly, they believed they would soon be called upon to battle this so-called Nameless One, but Jelena had a hard time accepting that ancient, evil ghosts could rise up to menace the living world. Still, they had promised to train her to use what Talent she had, the prospect of which filled her with excitement.
As she made her way out of the castle precincts and down into the city, the sights and sounds of the streets captured and held her full attention. Never had Jelena seen so many people gathered into one place.
Her main objective was to find the hikui district, called Jokimichi. Ashinji had promised to escort her there himself, but she had released him from his obligation so that he might spend the entire day with his company. In lieu of his personal guidance, he had provided her with written directions, so that she could locate her destination on her own.
She paused outside of a shop selling all types of iron implements and glanced around, getting her bearings. This must be the street of the ironmongers, she thought, noting that all the shops in the vicinity stocked similar wares. Ashinji’s directions indicated that she should walk to the end of the street and turn right at the first crossing.
As she made her way along the street, Jelena strained to take in every detail. As children, she and Magnes had loved to look at Duke Teodorus’ big, leather-bound book about the Imperial city of Darguinia. The book contained drawings of all the architectural marvels of the ancient capital of the Soldaran Empire. Jelena could still remember the sense of wonder she had felt while thumbing through that book, imagining what it would be like to stroll Darguinia’s elegant streets.
That childish wonder was as nothing compared to what she felt now, walking through the streets of Sendai. How the elves had managed to so thoroughly integrate their city within the confines of a mighty forest seemed nothing short of astounding. Most of the houses and shops were constructed of wood, topped with roofs of brightly glazed ceramic tiles. She saw buildings of stone as well, and even a few made of red brick, but these looked like meeting halls, rather than private homes or shops. The streets were paved in gravel with cunningly worked stone gutters and curbs.
The people of Sendai themselves appeared to be well-fed and prosperous; Jelena soon discovered that physically, there existed a bit more variation among them than she had previously believed. The folk of Kerala all tended toward fairness of skin and eye color. Now, she saw some elven people with skins the color of bronze lamps, and a very few had complexions so dark, she thought at first that they must be of an entirely different race, but they were, indeed, elves.
For a girl who had been raised in the insular world of a Soldaran castle, the city of Sendai seemed like the busiest, most exciting place in the known world.
The street of the ironmongers crossed a smaller road and as Jelena turned the corner, she nearly stumbled over a boy curled in a tight little ball against the side of a building. She gasped in dismay as her foot connected with the small body, then exclaimed in shock as the child scrambled to his feet and she got a look at his face.
He’s hikui!
The boy stared at her for a heartbeat, then took off running.
“Wait! Come back! I want to talk to you!” Jelena cried out, but the child quickly disappeared, lost among the throng.
Jelena’s heart fluttered as she looked around with more deliberation, searching for other faces with humanish features.
She spotted an old man in front of a tavern, sweeping out the doorway, his face weatherworn and deeply furrowed. The hands that clutched the broom handle were gnarled and thickened with the joint-ill.
Jelena stood in the shadow cast by the shop opposite the tavern and watched the old man for a time. The stoop of his shoulders, the stiffness of his movements, his shabby clothes, the way he looked downward whenever another person walked by him; all of these things Jelena took notice of and a nasty suspicion took root at the back of her mind.
The old man finished his task and retreated into the tavern. Jelena started walking again, her eyes only confirming what her heart didn’t want to believe. She saw more hikui scattered amongst the crowds of elves, and always, they seemed to be engaged in the most menial of tasks: unloading wagons, carrying burdens behind elven masters, sweeping, washing, hauling refuse. Those that weren’t laboring appeared to be beggars. Not once did she see any elf in similar circumstances.
It seems as though my kind aren’t treated any better here than I was back in Amsara, she thought. It’s as if I’ve had a veil over my eyes, hiding the truth, but now, the veil’s been pulled away. How naïve I’ve been! Ashi loves me and I know he only wants to protect me, but he should have been more honest about things!
A cloud of melancholy settled over her, and the day that had started out so bright and full of excitement now seemed much more dim and sad. She contemplated returning to the castle, but quickly changed her mind when she sighted a well-dressed hikui woman at a street stall, purchasing pies.
Jelena’s spirits lifted.
Perhaps not all of my kind live at the bottom of elven society after all!
The woman completed her purchases and moved along up the street. Jelena hurried after, determined not to lose sight of her.
If I could just talk to her…I know she’ll tell me the truth.
The woman soon turned off the main street into a narrow lane. She walked quickly; Jelena followed as close as she dared, not wishing to be too obvious in her pursuit, yet not wanting to lose her unwitting guide in the maze of small streets and alleys. She realized she had no idea how to get back to the main thoroughfare leading to the castle. She would eventually need to ask for directions; for now, though, she was content to let this woman lead her onward to whatever encounter the gods had mandated for them.
The forest began to thin out and soon Jelena found herself in a clearing within the city. Well-kept, modest houses lined the hard-packed, dirt lanes. The people she saw were all of mixed blood.
This must be it! I’ve found Jokimichi! She felt a rush of excitement and quickened her pace in order to catch up with her guide.
“Excuse me please!” she called out.
The woman had paused in a doorway, a key in her hand. She looked up as Jelena approached.
“Yes, may I help you?” the woman said, a little smile on her lips. Her face still had much of its youthful beauty, despite the lines brought by middle age. Her dark brown hair, streaked with silver, hung down her back in a neat braid.
“I…I…” Jelena cursed herself for her awkwardness. Why did she feel this way-shy, yet exhilarated? She wanted to fling her arms around the woman but at the same time, she wanted to flee. She stared helplessly into the kind brown eyes, too tongue-tied to speak.
The woman set her basket down on the ground and took Jelena’s hand. Her palm felt rough and warm. “Are you ill, child? Is there something I can do for you, someone I can fetch?” she asked.
“N…no, no,” Jelena spluttered, finding her voice at last. “I’m not ill, just lost. Well, not lost, really. I wanted to find this place, wanted to find others…”
“Others?” The woman raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, others like me…like you, mistress. I am not from around here, you see.”
“That is abundantly clear. Your accent gives you away. I haven’t heard its like before.”
“I’m from Soldara, mistress. My Siri-dar is not so good yet.”
“Your Siri-dar is quite good,” the woman responded. She leaned over to pluck the basket off the ground. “Well, I suppose you’d better come in, then.” She fitted the key into a shiny brass lock, turned it, and gave the door a gentle shove with her foot. Jelena followed her into a small entry hall and waited while her hostess closed the door and set the basket down on a low table.
“Welcome to my home,” the woman said. “I am Sateyuka.”
Jelena snatched off her hat and sketched a quick bow. “My name is Jelena, mistress,” she replied.
“What a lovely name,” Sateyuka said, “and so different. You are a long way from home, Jelena. How is it that you find yourself in Sendai?”
“It is a long story, mistress.”
Sateyuka smiled wryly and shook her head. “Please, Jelena. Call me Sateyuka. There are no masters or mistresses in this house, only hard working common folk. Come into the sitting room. I’ll make tea and we can talk.”
Sateyuka led Jelena through a sliding door made of thin wood into a cozy little room just off the entry hall. Three low chairs, a table, and some floor cushions made up the room’s simple furnishings. An unlit fireplace anchored the wall opposite the door. Sateyuka crossed the room to throw open the shutters of the single window, letting in some of the late afternoon sunshine and fresh air. A heavy mesh screen shielded the interior of the room from passers-by.
“Make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be too long.” Sateyuka smiled and whisked from the room, brown braid swinging.
Jelena settled into one of the chairs to wait.
I have so many questions , she thought. Would Sateyuka be willing to answer them all? Or would she soon tire of her overeager young guest and find some excuse to send Jelena on her way?
I suppose I’ll find out.
Sateyuka returned quickly, bearing a teapot-whimsically shaped like a fat-bodied hen-and two cups on a wooden tray. In addition to the tea, two of the little pies that Jelena had observed her hostess purchasing just a short time ago were laid out on cloth napkins. Sateyuka set the tray down atop the table and poured each of them a cup of tea.
“Careful, it’s hot,” she warned as she passed a cup and a pie to Jelena. She then sank into the chair opposite her guest.
Jelena bit into the pastry with a sigh of delight, savoring the mix of honey-sweetened crushed nuts and berries. She had to stop herself from devouring the confection in a single bite.
“I’d heard rumors there were folk of mixed blood in Soldara,” Sateyuka said. “We here in Sendai have a tightly knit community, and I know of no one who has ever had any contact with hikui from beyond the borders of Alasiri.” She paused to take a sip of her tea, and to appraise her young visitor over the rim of her cup.
“I was born at a place called Amsara,” Jelena said, setting her teacup down on the table. She finished the pie and brushed the last crumbs from her fingers. “The duke’s only sister-my mother-died giving birth to me. My uncle could never really accept me as family because of my elven blood, but he couldn’t turn his back on me, either. He sent me to be raised in the servant’s hall. Luckily I had a foster mother and a cousin who loved me.”
“We hear stories of how hikui are treated in the human lands, and some among us say that we should be thankful we live here in Alasiri.” Sateyuka frowned and Jelena thought she could hear the faintest trace of bitterness in the older woman’s voice.
“It’s true that Soldarans have no places of honor or dignity in their world for mixed-bloods. The priests teach the people that elvenkind are the offspring of demons…and therefore, have no souls. They say that any child born of a mating between an elf and a human is soulless as well.” Now, Jelena’s voice trembled with bitterness. “The people of Amsara take their religion quite seriously.”
“Is that why you fled your home? To escape ill treatment at the hands of humans?”
“Partly so, yes. I also wanted very much to find the man who fathered me. On her deathbed, my birth mother passed on to my foster mother a ring that she said belonged to my father. She also swore that she and my father had truly loved each other.”
“A powerful force, love. It makes us do brave things…and foolhardy ones as well.” Sateyuka’s soft brown eyes grew hazy, as if she wandered in the country of her memories, reliving a moment in her past both painful and sweet. With a sigh, she refocused her attention on her visitor. “So, now I know part of the tale of how you came to be in Alasiri,” she said, smiling. “What brings you to Sendai? Have you reason to believe your father may be here?”
Jelena paused, considered how much of the truth to tell Sateyuka, then decided that the facts of her elven parentage must remain close-kept until the king decided otherwise.
“I came here with the Lord of Kerala. I am married to his younger son.”
Sateyuka’s eyebrows shot up. “Your fortunes have risen, indeed. The House of Sakehera is old and powerful. Lord Sen is well respected among the people, okui and hikui alike. He is the only lord on the King’s Council who has spoken up in support of equal rights for our folk.” Jelena shifted uneasily in her chair, eager to ask the question that had been uppermost in her mind since she first entered Sateyuka’s small, neat house, but yet afraid of the answer.
“I know Lord Sen and the people of Kerala are…more tolerant. This they told me themselves. Most of them accepted me, and treated me well.” With one notable exception , she thought. “But I wish to hear the truth spoken of…the truth which I can see with my own eyes as I walk the streets.”
Sateyuka sipped her tea in silence for several heartbeats, her expression thoughtful. When at last she spoke, her response seemed careful and measured.
“My husband Azareshu died several years ago,” she said. “He was a master weaver-one of the very best in the city-but because of the laws that forbid a person of mixed blood from becoming a member in any of the craft guilds, he was denied access to the best markets. Still, we managed. With hard work and perseverance, we built our business into one of the biggest weaving and dye shops in Sendai. That was before the fire.”
She paused, her mouth set in a thin, tight line, as if, at any moment, a wail of grief might break forth. Jelena waited in silence, recognizing the sight of old pain freshly recalled and felt anew.
After a moment, Sateyuka regained her composure and continued. “It was no accident-the fire-although we didn’t find out until after the flames had been put out. We lost our entire inventory and most of our equipment as well. My husband suffered lung damage from the smoke. He kept running back into the burning shop to save whatever he could, which was precious little. When it was all over, we were left with two looms, one dye vat almost too warped by heat to use, and three bales of raw wool. Not much with which to rebuild a shop as big as ours had been.
“The next day, while searching the ruins for anything that might be salvageable, my eldest son came across a medallion half-buried in the ashes. It was one of the tokens worn by apprentices of the Weavers and Dyers Guild. Somehow, it had survived the flames. Engraved on the back was the insignia of Kai Kaiori, our biggest competitor.”
“This Kai Kaiori sent apprentices to burn you out? But why?” Jelena immediately realized the naievite of the question.
Sateyuka laughed sharply. “Kai Kaiori is a high ranking member of the Guild. Our shop had been seriously cutting into her business, a situation that she couldn’t tolerate!”
“Did you confront her?”
“My husband and sons went to her shop with the medallion as evidence, but it was useless. She denied she had anything to do with the fire, and she challenged us to prove otherwise. Azareshu tried to fight. He went to the authorities, but they refused to investigate. He even petitioned the king, but we never received a reply.”
Sateyuka rubbed at her eyes, either to relieve an itch or wipe away tears- Jelena could not tell. “The stress of it all proved too much for my dear husband. His lungs became worse and soon, he was too weak to rise from our bed. He died, and my sons and I were left alone.” Sateyuka fell silent, but only for a moment. Their eyes met and Jelena saw a woman who had survived unbearable grief and hardship, yet remained unbowed, with not a particle of self-pity anywhere within her to otherwise poison her recovery.
“After Azareshu died, I determined to rebuild. Thankfully, we had some money put aside, so I was able to rent a small space and purchase enough supplies to deliver some smaller orders. Ai, things were very hard that first year, but we survived. Our best customers were patient. They refused to abandon us, and because of them, we were able to stay afloat.
“Now, the business is almost back to where it had been before the fire. My eldest and his wife are the master weavers now. My other daughter-in-law oversees the dyeing and my youngest son attends to all of the daily business matters. I see to the accounts.”
Sateyuka raised the teapot with an expectant lift of her chin. Jelena held out her cup for a refill. “I’ve told you all of this, Jelena, so that you can better understand what it’s like for us. A few hikui families have managed to prosper, despite how things are, but most just get by, and too many still live in poverty, though Alasiri itself is rich. Still, we live our lives as best we can. We get married, raise our families, run businesses, pay taxes… As long as we remain separate-apart from mainstream elven society-the burden of our situation is barely felt by many of us, and the okui folk can go on pretending that we are all content. It’s only when the interests of a hikui collides with that of an okui that the ugly truth rears its head.”
Jelena sighed and forced herself to relax back into her chair. Sateyuka hadn’t revealed anything Jelena didn’t already suspect. “What am I to do?” she mused. “How can I reconcile all of this with what my life has become?”
“You are very lucky, child,” Sateyuka pointed out. “You are protected by virtue of your marriage into the House of Sakehera. Legally, you now have the same rights as an okui.”
“Maybe so, but it does not change the fact that I am still hikui. How can I live with rights that are denied others of our kind?”
“I haven’t the answer to that question, Jelena. Only you know what is truly in your heart. If your husband loves you and you love him…and I can see that you do by the look in your eyes…then perhaps that is all that should count for you right now. These are weighty matters, these questions of the rights of hikui people. Many women and men, both stronger and wiser than you and I, have spent their entire lives fighting for equality under elven law for our people. It has yet to happen.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps it never will.”
Jelena set her cup down with care and rose to look through the ornate window screen out into the street. The sunlight glowed orange and mellow; soon, dusk would fall. She hadn’t realized how much time had gone by. Talking with Sateyuka, sharing tea and pies with her-it had felt so comfortable and safe, like how Jelena imagined visiting a favorite aunt would be.
She turned to face her host. “I must go,” she murmured, then in a slightly stronger voice, added, “This has meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
Sateyuka stood and held out her hands; Jelena clasped them warmly. “You must come back to see me again,” the older hikui woman said, her soft brown eyes twinkling. “I have many friends here in Jokimichi, all of whom will welcome you and lend support, if you should feel the need.” Jelena understood the implied message behind the other woman’s words. “I wish you luck and pray that all will turn out for the best.”
“Thank you,” Jelena replied.
Sateyuka saw her to the door, and after giving Jelena directions back to the avenue that led up to the castle, stood at her threshold and watched as Jelena made her way up the street. At the first crossing, Jelena turned and waved before rounding the corner. Sateyuka lifted her hand in farewell.
As Jelena headed back toward the castle, she realized a seed had been planted within her this day. What form it would take as it grew, she could only guess at, but one thing she felt certain of: her relationship with Ashinji and his family-with all elves for that matter-would never be quite the same.
“It’s wrong, Ashi! Wrong and unfair!” Jelena exclaimed as she paced around the sitting room, hands clenched into fists at her side.
“I agree, love, but it is the way it is.” Ashinji sprawled on the couch beside the hearth, watching Jelena as she stalked, filling the room with her righteous indignation.
Abruptly, Jelena halted and rounded on her husband. “How can you be so…so unconcerned?” she demanded, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.
Ashinji sat up and held out his hands. “Please come and sit down,” he beckoned gently. After a moment’s hesitation, Jelena came and settled beside him, allowing herself to be held. At first, she remained rigid with anger, but the feel of Ashinji’s body against hers worked its own special magic and her fury slowly cooled. She sighed and relaxed into his embrace.
“I’m not unconcerned, love, just practical,” Ashinji said, brushing her cheek lightly with his fingers. “The weaver and her family deserved justice, and it sounds like they didn’t receive any. It is unfair, but the majority of okui don’t even acknowledge that there’s a problem. They truly believe that all hikui are content to live as our servants and laborers, never stopping to consider that the hikui woman or man they employ might just have higher aspirations.”
“Why are your parents different, Ashi?” Jelena asked. “Even though your father objected at first to our marriage, he did come around. Why?”
“I believe it’s because they were both raised in the borderlands where matters of blood and race are not as important,” Ashinji replied. “Many people out on the frontiers have a human or two hidden in their family trees.”
And a few, like Aneko, pass as okui, Jelena mused silently.
Jelena thought about the crime done to Sateyuka’s family and wondered how many other hikui had suffered unjustly-were still suffering-and her anger kindled anew. Ashinji must have sensed her hardening mood, for he pulled away and regarded her with cautious eyes. She looked into his face and, for the space of a heartbeat, she saw, not the man she loved, but the visage of an oppressor.
Gods, what am I thinking!
Jelena gasped with dismay. The anger fell away, to be replaced with intense sadness and regret. “Oh, Ashi,” she whispered and her eyes filled with tears. That anything could make her look at Ashinji with something other than love felt like an unbearable agony to her spirit, yet the injustice inflicted upon hikui by pure bloods remained undeniable, and she could no longer ignore it. She remembered Sateyuka’s words -If you and your husband love each other, perhaps that will be enough- and slowly shook her head.
“What are you thinking?” Ashinji asked.
“About…” Jelena paused, then drew herself up with new determination. “About how much I love you. And about how I can’t ignore what’s going on when I might have the power to help change things. I’m the king’s daughter, Ashi! I’m the king’s hikui daughter, and that obligates me to take action.”
Ashinji reached out and pulled her close. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “King Keizo is a fair man. I believe he’ll listen to you.”
“Hallooo! Where is everyone?” Lord Sen’s booming voice rolled into the room just ahead of the general himself, who strode in, trailed closely by Sadaiyo. Both father and son were dressed in heavy leathers, sweat-stained and dusty from the saddle. “Amara!” he called out, then noticing Ashinji and Jelena, he said in a somewhat quieter voice, “Hullo, children. Do you know where your mother is?”
“I think she and Misune took the girls out to tour the castle gardens, but they should be back very soon. It’s nearly dark,” Ashinji replied.
“Taking Lani out to dangle her in front of the eligible young bucks, is more like it,” Sadaiyo commented. Sen frowned.
“Must you always be so crude, Sadaiyo?” Ashinji responded, tight-lipped. “At least try to control your natural savagery where our sister is concerned.”
Sadaiyo shrugged at the insult, unfazed, and said, “While you’ve been lazing away the day on your backside, Father and I have been out working.” He crossed the room to stand by the hearth. Jelena eased herself off the couch and went to sit on the floor near the window. She found it difficult enough being in the same room as Ashinji’s brother. At the very least, she would put the length of the room between her and him.
“Your brother and I accompanied the king and Prince Raidan on a tour of the city’s defenses,” Sen explained. “Fortunately, most of the fortifications are sound, but I can’t say that about the old fort out on the Meizi Road. That’ll have to undergo major renovations before winter. Some enterprising local has turned it into an inn. Raidan was livid! I thought his head would burst!” Sen chuckled at the memory. He turned and addressed Jelena. “The king has invited us all to dine with him this evening. You’ll get to meet your uncle Raidan and his family, Jelena.”
“I’ve already met my uncle’s wife this morning,” Jelena said, remembering the strength of command that had radiated from Princess Taya.
My uncle must be a man of great strength himself, to have such a wife , she thought.
“Oh, yes. The Kirian Society. She is part of that, isn’t she?” Sen sniffed loudly and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand. “Hmm, well. I need a bath and a drink. The rest of you’d better think about getting ready, ‘cause we don’t want to be late.” He looked pointedly at Sadaiyo, then turned and stumped up the stairs.
With Sen’s departure, an uncomfortable silence descended upon the sitting room. After enduring several moments of the tense atmosphere, Jelena spoke up.
“Ashi, let’s go to the bath house now.” She stood and held her hand out to him.
“Good idea,” Ashinji replied. The two of them left Sadaiyo standing by the fireplace, his eyes hooded and inscrutable.
"Things are happening so fast, Ashi…perhaps too fast.” Jelena sighed and lay back on the bed beside Ashinji. “In two days time, I am to be presented to the King’s Council as Keizo Onjara’s daughter…and then…” She paused, momentarily overcome. Ashinji gently rubbed the back of her neck, offering silent support. “And then,” she continued in a shaky voice, “my father will present me to the people of Sendai, legitimize me and invest me with the title of Princess.”
The king had made his announcement that evening during dinner in his private quarters.
“My uncle Raidan and his sons…What must they think?” she mused.
Prince Raidan, Princess Taya, and their two sons-sullen Raidu and cheerful, curious young Kaisik-had greeted her politely enough; with the exception of Raidu, they had treated her as a welcome new family member. When Keizo had announced his plans, however, Jelena felt the change in her uncle’s attitude like a breath of chill wind upon her face. Raidan had remained unfailingly polite, but his hazel eyes had gone flint-hard.
Ashinji stretched languidly and stifled a yawn behind his hand. “The prince is a good man, and well-respected…and he is loyal to the king,” he said. “You have nothing to fear from him, I’m sure.” He frowned. “I couldn’t help but notice how your father’s Companion kept staring at you all evening. It was a little disturbing…like watching a lioness licking her chops over a rabbit.”
“Yes, she did make me feel a little uncomfortable, but she’s a Kirian, after all…she knows about my blue fire. I think she must be able to sense it somehow.”
“Perhaps,” Ashinji replied.
“My cousin Raidu did a fair amount of chop-licking over your sister, Ashi,” Jelena commented.
“Huh. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Lani’s at that age now. She’s beautiful, smart-and marriageable-and she knows it.” Ashinji rolled over and pulled Jelena against him. His hand strayed down to rest on her thigh.
“Whatever changes are in store for us, we’ll face them together, love,” he whispered.
Jelena twined her fingers in his hair and kissed him.
“Mother, Father…Misune and I have an announcement to make,” Sadaiyo said. The family had just sat down to breakfast. Jelena had awakened that morning to more nausea, and had no appetite. Ashinji, ever sensitive to her mood, kept throwing worried glances her way as she slowly sipped a cup of tea.
“Well, what’s your news, Son…tell us,” Sen urged around a mouthful of bread. Sadaiyo took Misune’s hand and together, they faced Sen and Amara. “We waited to tell you because we wanted to be sure.” He paused for effect, then crowed, “Misune is pregnant. You’re to be grandparents!” Misune smiled triumphantly.
“Goddess be praised!” Sen whooped with joy. Amara rose from her seat, embraced Misune and kissed her on both cheeks. She then turned and put her arms around Sadaiyo, who seemed caught off-guard by his mother’s affection. Awkwardly, he returned her embrace.
“Today is a very good day for this family,” Sen said. He stood up, arms half-raised as if he, too, were about to embrace his son; instead, he reached out and squeezed Sadaiyo’s shoulder, then his arms dropped to his sides.
For only a moment, Jelena saw something she’d never seen before-Sadaiyo’s cold face transformed into that of a child desperately yearning for his father’s love-then, just as quickly, the child faded and the man returned.
“I’m glad I’ve…at last…made you happy, Father,” Sadaiyo said, a rough catch in his voice.
Sen sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “Yes…well…,” he huffed and sat down.
“Jelena, how are you feeling this morning?” Jelena looked up, surprised by her mother-in-law’s question.
“Not well, Mother, but it’s nothing, really,” she assured.
“It’s not nothing,” Ashinji countered. “Mother, Jelena has been unwell for nearly two weeks now.”
Amara nodded, a knowing look in her eye. “Perhaps it’s time to send for a doctor,” she said.
“Oh, no, Mother, please. I really don’t need a doctor.”
“Yes…you do!” Ashinji glowered at her.
Amara exchanged a look with her husband. “I believe I’ll send for one right now,” she said.
Jelena nodded in acquiescence. She knew when to give in.
Later that morning, as she and Ashinji waited in the sitting room for the doctor to arrive, Jelena, who had sensed a mood change in her husband beyond worry for her, prodded him to talk.
They had the room to themselves; Sen and Sadaiyo had gone out on official business, Misune and Lani had retreated to the bathhouse for a long soak, and Amara was upstairs dressing the twins.
“What’s gotten you so upset, Ashi?” Jelena laid her hand atop his and gazed at his profile. “I know you’re worried about me, but…”
“Yes, of course I’m worried,” he responded, then said, “That was the first time I’ve ever seen my mother embrace Sadaiyo like that. I don’t think he quite knew how to react.”
“Your parents are thrilled that their Heir is expecting his own Heir,” Jelena replied. “It means the House of Sakehera will continue after your father is gone.”
“Of course, you’re right…” Ashinji paused, then exclaimed, “Ai, Goddess!” He shook his head slowly, eyes closed. “I know it’s evil of me, but…I can’t feel any joy for my brother. I’m ashamed, Jelena… ashamed to admit I would secretly enjoy any misfortune that might befall him.”
“Oh, Ashi.” Jelena rested her head on his shoulder. “There is nothing about you that is evil. If you feel this way about your brother, then it is his own doing. He has tormented and abused you your entire life. You aren’t the one who should feel ashamed, it’s him!”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Ashinji brushed his lips against her neck.
“Yes, but I can never hear it enough.” A knock at the door interrupted the moment. Amara had declined to accept full-time servants while they lived at Sendai, and so it was left to the younger family members to perform certain tasks like opening the door to visitors.
“I guess I’ll have to answer that.” Ashinji got up and exited the room, returning a moment later with a tall, gray-haired man in tow.
“Lady Sakehera summoned me to attend her daughter-in-law,” the man said to Ashinji.
“Yes, Doctor. You are here to examine my wife. She has been ill for nearly two weeks now.”
Jelena stood up and came forward. The doctor’s eyebrows shot up, but he swiftly recovered. “Come, let’s sit and you can tell me about your symptoms, my girl,” he prompted gently.
After Jelena had described the nausea and dizziness that had plagued her, the doctor nodded and asked, “When did you last bleed?”
Jelena had to stop and think.
It has been awhile, she thought. Gods! Could I be…?
Aloud, she said, “I…I think it was…well, before we left Kerala. At least two months…but I’ve been late before. I thought…I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Hmmm, yes,” the doctor replied. “Captain Sakehera, I need to examine your wife now. Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable waiting in another room?”
“Oh, no! Ashi can stay with me,” Jelena insisted.
“Very well.” The doctor indicated that she should lie down on the couch. After poking and probing Jelena with experienced hands, the doctor finished his exam by holding two fingers to the large vein in her neck for several heartbeats. He nodded once, apparently satisfied.
“Well?” Jelena asked. “Am I…?”
“Yes, my girl,” the doctor replied. He smiled and the creases at the corners of his eyes deepened. “And since you appear to be in excellent health, your pregnancy should proceed smoothly.”
“Ashi! Did you hear?” Jelena cried.
“I heard, my love…I heard!”
“Doctor, is it as I suspected?” Amara had appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes, my lady. Your daughter-in-law is indeed pregnant, and if she carries like most hikui women, she should deliver by next spring.” The doctor opened his leather satchel and removed a glass vial full of fine, white powder from its depths. He then poured a small amount of wine into a glass and shook a few grains of the powder into the deep red liquid, swirling it around until the powder had dissolved. Holding the glass out to Jelena, he ordered, “Drink this now. If you feel sick later, mix a pinch of the powder into a little wine, just as you saw me do, then drink it down. Just a pinch, mind! I will make arrangements with your mother-in-law to see you regularly from now until you deliver.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Amara said. “I will see you out.” After Amara and the doctor had left the room, Jelena wrapped Ashinji in a fierce embrace.
“Ashi, we’ve made a child!” she whispered and pressed his hand to her still-flat belly. “Our first child is in here!” She wanted to leap from the couch and fly out the window to soar high above the castle roofs. She longed to release the wild music in her soul and let the world know she carried a new life within her.
“My love…my beautiful wife.” Ashinji’s voice shook with the strength of his joy.
Slowly, Jelena ran her hands across her belly, savoring the wonder of it all.
Oh, dear Claudia…Heartmother! If only you could see me now! she thought. Your baby, your little girl. Soon, I’ll have a baby of my own . Hot tears flooded her eyes.
“The One has blessed us doubly this day.” Amara re-entered the sitting room and came over to kiss both Jelena and Ashinji.
“You knew, didn’t you, Mother?”
Amara smiled and touched Jelena on the cheek. “I’ve suspected for several days, now, but I thought perhaps you’d figure it out for yourselves.”
“I feel very dumb,” Jelena mumbled.
“Nonsense, girl,” Amara retorted. “You’ve never been pregnant before, so you’ve no cause to reproach yourself.” She looked toward the stairs. “Where are the twins? They know I’m waiting on them…Girls! Girls, come now!”
In a flurry of shrieks and giggles, Mariso and Jena came hurtling down the stairs at the sound of their mother’s voice.
“I’m taking the girls into the city to get them some new clothes,” Amara explained. “They grow so fast…” She shook her head in mock despair. “It seems as if I’m replacing everything I have for them every few weeks!” The twins, as usual, were chattering bundles of energy, each girl mirroring with uncanny precision the movements and mannerisms of her sister.
“You’d better go or they’re going to burst!” Jelena exclaimed, laughing.
“I’ve sent for some fresh food for you, since you barely touched breakfast. It should be here any moment… Yes, yes, girls! We are going now!” Amara gave Jelena a quick peck on the cheek, then herded her little daughters out the door.
Jelena’s hand crept up to her cheek to touch the spot where Amara had kissed it. The skin tingled a little, as if a residue of her mother-in-law’s Talent had been deposited there. Until now, Amara had shown little inclination toward physical affection with Jelena other than the occasional pat on the hand. It felt deeply significant, this breakthrough, and for the first time in their brief history together, Jelena knew with certainty that Ashinji’s mother accepted her completely.
“I hate to leave you, love, but I’ve got an officer’s meeting I must attend,” Ashinji said. “We’ll tell Father about our baby tonight. He’ll be beside himself. Two grandchildren in one day!”
“Of course, you must go. I understand,” Jelena replied. “I’ll just…um, maybe go to the stables and visit Willow. She must be very restless by now. She’s not been ridden since we arrived.”
“I’ll see you tonight, then.” Ashinji kissed her and departed, leaving Jelena alone in the stillness of the now deserted apartment.
A knock at the door broke her reverie. She opened it to find an elderly hikui man holding a tray. A young hikui woman stood behind and to the side of the man. Jelena pulled the door open a little wider to admit the pair.
“Your meal, my lady,” the man murmured as he swept past her to place the tray on the dining table. He bowed once, then exited, leaving the woman standing alone by the open doorway.
Jelena regarded her with curiosity. “Is there something you need?” she asked.
The woman-a girl really-nodded, all the while looking past Jelena’s shoulder into the room. “I was sent to serve Lady Sakehera. I am supposed to look after her daughters,” she answered in a pleasant, contralto voice. “My name is Eikko.” She bowed her head. Jelena guessed her to be about nineteen years old, plain of face and tending towards plumpness. She had wrapped her dark brown hair in a neat bun at the nape of her neck.
“Lady Sakehera and the twins just left. If you were supposed to accompany them into the city, you’re too late,” Jelena replied.
The girl gasped, her hazel eyes wide with distress. “I was told to be here promptly at the ninth hour! I know I’m not late! Oh, this will reflect badly upon me!”
Jelena couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy for the girl. “It’s going to be all right, Eikko,” she said soothingly. “Lady Sakehera left early. She must have decided she didn’t need help after all.”
Jelena paused to study the other girl’s face. She could see, beneath the distress, a frank curiosity in the young hikui’s eyes- curiosity about her.
She made a quick decision. “Please come in, Eikko. I would very much like to talk to you.”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t…” the girl said.
“I won’t keep you long, I promise,” Jelena assured.
“Well…all right. But I really can’t stay. I need to go tell my boss what happened.”
“Are you hungry?” Jelena picked up a sweet bun from the breakfast tray and offered it to the young servant.
“Oh, no!… I’m not allowed,” Eikko replied, shaking her head.
“Not allowed to eat breakfast?” Jelena responded quizzically.
“Not allowed to eat in front of you …” Eikko’s voice trailed off and she lowered her eyes.
Suddenly, Jelena understood. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
“Yes…Your Highness.”
Jelena shook her head in astonishment. “How is it that you know? My father has made no public announcement…I certainly haven’t gone about flaunting it…How can you know?”
Eikko seemed amused at Jelena’s bewilderment. “Servants talk, my lady,” she replied.
Of course! How could I possibly think my identity would remain a secret from the one group of people who know everything that goes on here? Jelena nearly laughed aloud at her own foolishness. “I should have known the answer to my own question,” she said.
Eikko shrugged. “Perhaps, Highness.”
Jelena frowned. “Please don’t call me that. I’m really no better than you.”
“You are the king’s daughter, my lady. That makes you a princess,” Eikko said, her tone indicating that she didn’t understand why Jelena could not see the simple logic of the situation.
“If you knew more about me, I doubt you’d feel the way you do. I’m hikui, same as you…an ordinary person.”
“Whose father just happens to be the king,” Eikko pointed out. “No, my lady, you are far from ordinary.”
Jelena sighed and picked up a sweet bun. Realizing the draught the doctor had given her had done its job, she hungrily bit into the bread. Noticing Eikko surreptitiously eyeing the food, she asked, “Have you eaten yet this morning?”, and when the other girl shook her head, she added, “Please have something. I insist.”
“No, my lady. I really am not allowed. If my boss were to find out, it would go badly for me.” Eikko’s eyes implored Jelena not to ask again.
Guilt poked Jelena like a sharp blade. “I can’t sit here and enjoy my meal while you go hungry,” she muttered, dropping the half-eaten bun back on the tray. She shook her head in dismay, remembering how Sateyuka’s words had confirmed the painful truth of how her fellow hikui were treated.
“Are all the servants in the castle hikui?” Jelena asked as she settled into a chair by the window.
After a moment’s hesitation, Eikko sat on a floor cushion. “All of the lower-downs, are,” Eikko replied. “The bosses are mostly okui, of course, though a few of us have made it up to that level.”
“The okui serving here don’t mistreat you, do they?” Jelena asked carefully.
Eikko framed her answer just as carefully. “The king doesn’t knowingly allow any of his servants to be mistreated, your Highness, but…things are as they are.”
Jelena sighed. “Maybe now, when the okui see that the king has a hikui daughter and that he loves her, things will be different,” she said quietly.
“Perhaps,” Eikko replied. “I really should be going, my lady. If I don’t report back soon…” The servant girl climbed to her feet.
“Thank you, Eikko, for staying and talking to me,” Jelena said, rising to her feet as well, “even if it was only for a little while. I’ve had so few opportunities to talk to other hikui,” she added. “I hope we’ll have another chance.”
Eikko’s warm smile transformed her plain face into something resembling loveliness. “I hope so, too…Highness.”
Jelena flinched. “I…I would rather you didn’t call me that,” she said. “I really don’t deserve that title.”
Eikko remained silent as Jelena escorted her to the door. Just before stepping across the threshold, the hikui girl turned to face Jelena. “Yes, you do,” she whispered, her eyes alive with unspoken meaning, before she hurried off.
“The One bestows yet another blessing on my House.” Sen folded Ashinji into his arms. “My son,” he whispered. “You’ve made me so very happy.” Sen held his son for many heartbeats, and never before had Jelena seen or felt their special bond more strongly. Finally, Sen released Ashinji and moved to embrace Jelena. “You, also, have made me very happy,” he said, his gray-green eyes shining. He planted a firm kiss in the center of her forehead then released her.
The remains of the evening meal had yet to be cleared from the dining table; Jelena and Ashinji had delayed their announcement until after the family had finished eating.
“I need to tell my own father soon,” Jelena stated. She shook her head, laughing. “He just found out he’s a father, and now he’s to be a grandfather as well!”
“He will be as happy as I am,” Sen replied. “Though I foresee a potential problem between us.” His face curdled into a scowl.
“What problem, Father?” Ashinji asked anxiously.
“Both of us will want to cuddle and spoil our grandchild, but we can’t do it at the same time. I predict a great deal of arguing over exactly whose turn it is to hold the baby!” Sen’s mock scowl melted into a mischievous grin.
“I wonder if I’ll have any time with my own child!” Jelena exclaimed. She turned toward Ashinji in entreaty, but he just shrugged and smiled. Jelena smiled in response, full to bursting with love for her husband and his father.
Amara, who had been sipping tea on the sitting room couch, Lani by her side, entered the conversation. “Jelena, now that you are pregnant, we must be especially careful with your training,” she said. “The energy within you can cause great harm to your unborn child. It must be meticulously controlled until the correct time.”
“You’re worrying me, Wife!” Sen rumbled. “Nothing…nothing at all must harm this grandchild!” He nervously plucked at his earlobe. “You know how talk of sorcery unsettles me. Whatever this business of the Kirians is, must it involve Jelena?”
Before Amara could answer, Sadaiyo, who had said nothing until now, spoke. “Goddess forbid that anything should happen to this particular Sakehera grandchild, for is this child not also an Onjara and thus far more valuable to you than my own, Father?” He made no attempt to soften the bitterness of his tone.
Jelena’s happy mood evaporated. Ashinji stiffened and she felt him struggling to remain calm.
Sen’s face fell; his eyes darkened with anger and sadness. “How can you say such a thing, Son?” he asked.
“Sadaiyo, not now…” Misune murmured, almost too low to be heard.
“I’m only speaking the truth, Wife,” Sadaiyo shot back. “Father agrees, but he’d never admit it-has never admitted it-though it’s always been plain to me and everyone else in Kerala! Ever since my little brother came mewling into the world, anything that is a part of him will be more precious to you, Father, than anything I can ever give you.”
The air in the room grew heavy, as oppressive as the atmosphere right before a summer thunderstorm.
“I think I’ll go up to bed,” Lani murmured.
“Take your sisters,” Amara directed softly, gesturing to the two little girls asleep before the hearth. Lani nodded, kissed her mother’s cheek, then rose to gather the twins up, one under each arm. They complained drowsily, but went along without much more fuss.
“Sadaiyo,” Sen said as soon as Lani and the twins had departed, “you are my firstborn…my Heir. When have I ever given you cause to doubt my regard for you?”
Sadaiyo shook his head in incredulity. “Every time you look at my brother,” his eyes flicked to Ashinji’s face then back to his father’s, “I see in your eyes the love you have for him…love I never had, nor ever will. Oh, I understand it,” he said, raising his hand to forestall Sen’s response, “but understanding is a long way from acceptance.”
“Brother, you need feel no jealousy toward me. I’ve never been a threat to you.” The anguish in Ashinji’s voice nearly broke Jelena’s heart.
“Not so, Little Brother!” Sadaiyo replied. “The people of Kerala love you about as much as they hate me. How will I ever govern them without their support? As long as you are around, my position as Lord will be severely compromised.”
“That is not true, Son! Our people don’t hate you!” Sen objected. “Perhaps, if you showed them a little more compassion…”
“Like Ashinji, perhaps? Oh, yes… kind, compassionate Ashinji! I’m sick to death of you-you and this…this half-breed who pretends she’s as good as a pureblood because she’s the king’s bastard whelp!”
“ Sadaiyo! ” Amara’s voice cracked like a whip.
Sadaiyo rose to his feet, ignoring his mother’s warning. “You’ve never said it, Father, but I know you wish it. You wish that your precious Ashinji could succeed you as Lord!”
Father and son stared at each other for several agonizing heartbeats.
“Go ahead,” Sadaiyo bluntly challenged. “Admit it!”
Something in Sen seemed to snap. Jelena saw his control give way and she braced herself for the consequences.
“Goddess forgive me, but it’s true!” Sen whispered hoarsely, then hung his head.
“Father!” Ashinji cried. He struggled to rise, but Jelena locked her arms around him and held him down with all her strength.
“I can’t lie to you anymore, Sadaiyo.” Sen raised his head and Jelena witnessed something she never thought to see-Sen weeping. The sight of his tears seemed to temporarily dampen Sadaiyo’s anger. Father and son stood a handspan apart, each searching the other’s face for something- anything -that would banish the terrible pain between them.
“I’m so very sorry, my son,” Sen murmured.
For an eternity, no one moved or spoke.
“Damn and curse you, Brother ,” Sadaiyo whispered at last.
“Sadaiyo,” Amara called softly this time, breaking the leaden silence. Sadaiyo turned to regard his mother with flat, pain-filled eyes. “Come here,” she commanded.
Even in his current state, Sadaiyo did not dare disobey his mother. Like a sleepwalker, he went to her side and sat down. Gently, Amara slipped her arms around him and rested her forehead against his. She closed her eyes. “Leave us, all of you,” she ordered.
“I’m going for a walk,” Sen mumbled and headed for the outer doors. Misune, loathe to leave her husband but fearful of disobeying a direct order from her mother-in-law, reluctantly retreated up the stairs.
“Let’s go to bed,” Ashinji whispered. “I really need to be in your arms right now.” Jelena nodded and took his hand. She glanced at the eerily still tableau of Sadaiyo and his mother, then looked away. The two were obviously joined in trance, and to Jelena, it felt like too intimate a thing for her to see.
When she and Ashinji finally fell into their bed, they held each other for awhile, taking comfort in simple closeness. Eventually, Ashinji moved to rest his head on Jelena’s belly, as if by doing so, he could somehow cross the divide that, by nature and necessity, now separated him from his unborn child. Jelena stroked his hair with one hand and wiped away her tears with the other.
By mutual, unspoken agreement, they remained silent about Sadaiyo’s outburst and Sen’s agonized confession. Jelena understood that things were too raw now. There would be plenty of time later to sort things out.
After a time, they both drifted to sleep.
Emerging from a tangle of disturbing dreams, Jelena sat up in bed, a vague sense of alarm jangling her nerves. She glanced over at Ashinji, who lay on his side, face slack. Too unsettled to remain in bed, Jelena finally gave up and slipped from beneath the covers, moving carefully so as to not wake her husband. She threw on her robe and went to sit in the window seat, pushing open the shutters so she could look out.
Thousands of stars glittered overhead in a clear, black sky. The moon had not yet risen-the bulk of the castle lay in darkness below, like a slumbering dragon. She leaned out over the sill and inhaled deeply of the cool air.
A tiny whisper of sound, like the soft chime of a bell, caused her to start. She peered into the darkness below, trying to pierce the veil of shadow that obscured the source of the mysterious noise.
A ghostly, bluish light flickered to life and revealed the dim outlines of a figure standing in the yard directly below the window. As Jelena watched with growing unease, the light waxed stronger, resolving itself into a perfect sphere that floated just above the head of a woman with fiery red hair.
Sonoe stood looking upward, right into Jelena’s eyes.
Jelena hissed in surprise and fell back from the window, nearly tripping over the hem of her robe. Trembling with reaction, she crouched on the floor beneath the sill, her thoughts racing.
What is my father’s Companion doing here at this time of night?
The beautiful mage’s eyes had looked like two black stones set in alabaster. Jelena felt a sudden wave of fear, like the cold exhalation from a freshly opened tomb.
This makes no sense! Sonoe is a Kirian, and if not a friend, then at least an ally!
Profoundly disturbed, Jelena scurried for the safety of the bed and Ashinji’s comforting presence. She climbed in, pressed herself against him, then lay unmoving for the rest of the night.
"This hikui girl, your Majesty. You are certain she is yours?” Lady Odata of Tono asked, disbelief coloring her voice.
“Yes, quite certain, my lady,” the king replied, clearly irritated by the implication. “The White Griffin confirmed it. You know as well as I that it only reacts when one of the true blood of Onjara touches it. I’d be happy to demonstrate to all of you!” He pounded his fist on the polished oak of the council table in frustration.
“Easy, Brother,” Raidan soothed. “Your lords only want assurances that this isn’t some sort of deception. You can’t blame them for that.”
“No…no, I can’t. You are right,” Keizo admitted. He sighed and unclenched his hands, laying them flat on the table. “My apologies, my lords and ladies.”
Raidan observed his brother over steepled fingers. They had spent most of last night arguing over how best to handle this situation. Raidan had urged caution, recommending that Keizo present the girl to the Council, but hold off on any public proclamations to legitimize her. Keizo would have his hands full just dealing with the shock and dismay of his advisors. He didn’t need a public outcry to add to his troubles.
In the end, though, Keizo remained resolute. The Council and the elven people would know about his daughter, and, in time, come to accept his decision-or so he believed.
Now, faced with the full wrath of his lords, Keizo remained in control, handling the situation well enough, considering.
Several of the lords shouted simultaneously, but one voice in particular-Morio of Ayame’s-rang out above the others. “Your Majesty, where is this leading? You have no child of your blood, save this girl…this hikui girl. If you legitimize her, then you are as good as declaring that you plan to name her your Heir!”
“That I cannot do, my lord of Ayame. It is against our law,” the king replied, tight-lipped.
“How do we know you won’t suspend the law?” Lord Morio continued. “With respect, Majesty, if you try, there are many of us who will oppose you! The elven people will never accept a hikui as their ruler!” Many voices cried out in agreement, adding to the general cacophony.
Sen Sakehera, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “My lords and ladies, I pray you, shut up !” he roared. All shouting ceased and every eye fixed upon the King’s Commanding General. “That’s better,” he said. “Now that I can hear myself, I’d like to get in my few humble words, with your permission, Majesty.” The king waved his hand in consent.
“It was I who brought Jelena here to Sendai. My son Ashinji found her along our southern border, fleeing from bandits. If he hadn’t come along, she’d be dead, and so would I, because some months later, Jelena saved my life. I owed it to her to try to help her find her elven kin.” He glanced at the king, who sat very still, face impassive.
“I’ve come to care for this girl very much, and so has my son. I know her mind, far better than even her own father does,” Keizo’s mouth twitched at this, but he otherwise showed no reaction. “and I know that she has absolutely no desire to be anything other than my son’s wife.”
Lord Sen turned to regard Raidan. “Your Highness, Jelena is no threat to you, even if the king claims her publicly.”
Raidan heard the unspoken message in Sen’s softly spoken final words and saw the promise in his eyes. You’d go to war against me to protect this girl! he thought . We’d both better pray to the One that it never comes to that, for then I’d have to destroy you, my friend!
The Lord of Kerala sat down and glanced around the table at his fellow advisors. A heavy silence, full of consternation and confusion, blanketed the room. The air hummed with energy, the result of fourteen individual Talents amplified by proximity and stress.
The whole situation threatened to give Raidan a vicious headache. He rubbed at his temples. “Brother, why don’t you send for Jelena now? I think it’s time that your Council meet your daughter and see for themselves just what she’s like.”
“I’ll go and get her myself,” Keizo murmured.
The king stood and exited the room. He returned a moment later with Jelena on his arm. “My lords and ladies, I present to you my daughter…Jelena.”
Raidan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at the transformation his niece had undergone. The girl wore a splendid, multi-layered court gown, an ornate silver headdress resting on her tamed locks.
By the One, she’s really quite pretty, he thought, and if she weren’t a bastard Onjara, and already married, she’d have no trouble finding a place as a concubine to some minor lord or court official.
Jelena held her head high, but Raidan sensed her nervousness; to her credit, she masked it well.
“My lords and ladies, I thank you for receiving me,” the girl addressed the Council in excellent, though heavily accented, Siri-dar. “Please allow me to sit and answer any questions you may have for me.”
Well said, girl, Raidan thought.
The king snapped his fingers and a servant came forward with a chair, which he placed next to the king’s. Keizo waited while his daughter sat with admirable grace and adjusted her skirts, then folded her hands demurely on her lap.
Keizo resumed his seat and held up his hand before anyone could speak. “Before you question my daughter, I have an announcement to make. There will be an official ceremony of legitimization for her in two days time. I will then present her to the people.” The king calmly gazed at his advisors, daring them to challenge him.
“Tell us about yourself, child,” Lady Odata spoke up first, breaking the tense silence.
“I was raised in the house of my mother’s brother, Duke Teodorus of Amsara,” Jelena began, her voice quiet but steady. “My mother bore me in disgrace, disowned by her own family because she confessed to the crime of lying with an elven man. She died giving birth to me, so I never knew her, except through the stories told to me by my foster mother.”
Jelena went on to tell her tale of growing up outcast among the humans of Amsara, ignored or openly despised by most of them; her foster mother and human cousin became her only sources of love and emotional support.
“I lived and worked as a kitchen servant for most of my life. I never dreamed anything else was possible for me, so I made the best of it.
It wasn’t all bad, though. My cousin Magnes taught me to read and write, to ride a horse and shoot a bow. He even taught me a little about swordplay and how to defend myself with a knife.”
“Why did you run away, then?” Lord Morio asked, his voice sharp.
“My uncle, the duke, was preparing to sell me as a concubine to another lord. I could live as a servant, but I would not be made a slave. So…I left.”
Many of the lords stirred uneasily.
Struck a sensitive spot, has she, Raidan thought . How many of you keep hikui concubines to warm your beds, eh?
“My cousin came with me to protect me. We ran into a gang of bandits on the border between Amsara and Kerala. My husband…I mean, my future husband-Captain Ashinji Sakehera-rescued my cousin and me, but I got badly hurt. Captain Sakehera took us both back to Kerala where I received treatment for my wounds. Even before I had fully recovered, Lord Sen offered me a place in his service as a messenger. I accepted and worked to make a good life for myself in Kerala. I had friends, decent work, and most important of all, I had my freedom.”
“What became of your human cousin?” old Lady Saizura asked in a thin, reedy voice. She wore an antique gown and an outlandishly tall headdress, which, coupled with her extreme age, made her look like a character out of a historical play.
“He decided it was best that he return home to Amsara. I have had no news of him since.”
Lady Saizura snorted. “No doubt he has given his father a complete description of your castle and its defenses, Sakehera. I’d be concerned, if I were you!”
Jelena’s eyes flashed with anger. “My cousin is an honorable man! He would never betray anyone he considered a friend, not even if his own father asked him to. If Duke Teodorus attacks Kerala, it won’t be because of anything Magnes told him!” Jelena glared at the old noblewoman defiantly.
“Hee hee! The girl has spirit, Majesty! I’ll give her that much,” Saizura cackled. “Pity she is not okui.”
“She is our king’s daughter, Lady Saizura, and my daughter-in-law! That should make her good enough to meet even your standards!” Sen growled.
“Peace, Lord Sen…my lady!” the king intervened.
Raidan studied his niece’s face. Her lower lip trembled a little, and her eyebrows drew downward at their inner corners. She surreptitiously rubbed her belly, as if in pain. Despite her apprehension, she was managing to maintain her composure. Raidan doubted that his own son Raidu could do as well.
“Fathers,” Jelena continued, emphasizing the plural and looking at Keizo and Lord Sen in turn, “And my lords and ladies. I know what I am, and what I’m not. Many of you are not comfortable with my presence, and probably wish that I’d never found my way here, but I did. I’ve no desire to overturn any laws that are fair , nor do I wish to take away something that is not mine. All I want is to know my father, and my family history, and to learn the history of the elven people.” She fell silent.
“Well spoken, Niece,” Raidan said. He scanned the faces of the others, and saw cautious acceptance on a few, but most looked decidedly non-committal. He had expected as much. If it came down to a battle of wills with his brother, then he could count on the necessary support of the majority of the Council.
It seems that my niece will be no real threat after all.
“She held up well. Even I felt a twinge of pride,” Raidan admitted. “She seemed a little pale, though, and she kept pressing her hand to her belly.” He sat for awhile in silence and watched Taya at her little writing desk as she jotted down notes in a small book bound in scaly red leather.
Raidan didn’t inquire about the nature of her work. He assumed it to be magical, and he preferred to stay out of all business pertaining to the sorcerous arts.
Taya sighed and put down her pen. She closed the little book with a snap and laid it aside. “The girl is pregnant. Amara Sakehera told me this morning,” she said.
“Will this complicate things?” Raidan asked.
Taya shook her head. “No…not really, though Amara will no doubt wish to delay the Sundering until after the child is born.” She paused, then added, “It would be the compassionate thing to do, but I’m not sure we’ll have that luxury. Of course, as Mistress of the Kirian Society, I will have the final word on when the ritual will be performed. Amara must abide by my decision.”
Taya rose from her chair and came to sit beside Raidan, who slid over to make room for her upon the small couch. The scent of jasmine, inextricably linked to all Raidan’s erotic thoughts about his wife, infused the air. “What about Keizo?” he asked.
“You must not tell your brother any of this!” Taya responded sharply. “I realize this puts you in a very difficult position…”
“Yes, it does!” Raidan exclaimed. “You are demanding that I withhold something so important that, by doing so, I’m committing a terrible betrayal! This is the life of my brother’s only child!”
“A life that you would not hesitate to take yourself if you felt it necessary!”
Raidan stared into his wife’s eyes and saw the iron-willed Mistress of the Kirian Society staring back at him.
“You must do this, Husband,” Taya murmured. “Greater things are at stake here than the life of one girl…The very existence of the material world.”
Forty five years of marriage had taught Raidan many things; the most important lesson being the absolute superiority of Taya’s instincts over his own.
He slowly nodded. “If you say that I must lie to my brother…that I have no choice but to do this thing…then I will do it, because I trust you completely.”
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Raidan found the smell of his wife’s perfume distracting. He gazed at Taya and marveled again at his great fortune. Most married couples counted themselves lucky if they even liked each other. He had received in Taya a gift beyond price-a best friend as well as a wife. He pulled her close and kissed her.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?” He brushed her cheek with a forefinger.
“No, of course not,” she replied softly.
“How could I ever live without you?” he whispered.
“You’ll never have to find out.”
Two days later, Raidan stood beside Keizo before a glittering assemblage of the elite of Sendai as the king formally claimed Jelena as his own.
“I hereby proclaim her to be my legitimized child, a true daughter of the House of Onjara, and I now elevate her to the rank of Princess.” Keizo’s voice rang out clear and strong, reaching even those who had to stand at the back of the vast, State Audience Chamber.
Jelena, looking a little overwhelmed in her formal court gown and makeup, nevertheless stood tall by the king’s left hand.
“She shall be known from this day forward as Princess Jelena Onjara Sakehera of Alasiri.” The king beckoned and Jelena knelt before him. He held out his hands to Raidan, who placed within them a coronet of white gold worked all around its circumference with a motif of griffins, each one clutching a moonstone in its claws.
The king placed the coronet on Jelena’s head. “Rise up, Daughter, and take your rightful place at my side,” he intoned. He took Jelena’s hand and helped her to her feet. She swayed a little, recovered, then moved to Keizo’s left.
The ceremony ended with a fanfare of horns, blown with melodic precision by the court heralds. The formal procession through the streets of Sendai would now commence, so that the common people could see their new princess. Jelena would ride in an open litter, flanked by members of the King’s Guard. Raidan and the king would ride before her, Sen Sakehera and her husband Ashinji directly behind. Raidan had heard his niece protested mightily about the arrangements, insisting that she wished to ride her own horse, but the king had held firm. Keizo had confided to Raidan just this morning that his daughter was with child, and would deliver next spring. Raidan duly congratulated his brother, keeping to himself the fact that he already knew.
The restless crowd parted before them as the royal party moved slowly toward the tall double doors leading out of the hall, which stood open to admit the hazy fall sunshine. Brightly caparisoned horses, held by grooms in formal livery, stamped and snorted on the gravel, harnesses jingling. Members of the King’s Guard stood at each corner of a litter upholstered in pale green silk, ready to hoist the conveyance onto their shoulders. Two additional guards would walk along either side.
Raidan carefully hid his amusement as Jelena frowned at the sight of the litter. She allowed the guards to help her in, then spent several moments arranging the many layers of her gown. Raidan suspected her efforts were not to create an artful display of the sumptuous fabrics, but simply to get them out of her way so she could recline more comfortably against the pillows. After she had composed her garments to her satisfaction, she adjusted the griffin coronet on her brow, then looked about her as if searching for something.
Someone, Raidan realized, as Ashinji Sakehera appeared at her side. He crouched down and the two of them bent their heads together, whispering earnestly to each other.
Your fortunes have risen quickly, young Sakehera. I doubt this sits well with your brother, Raidan thought.
“Your Highness, at your pleasure!”
Raidan looked away from the lovers to see that a groom had brought his horse. All around him, the procession formed up, preparing to move out across the parade ground and down the main avenue into the city. Even at this distance, the prince could hear, like waves crashing against the shoreline, the muted roar of the crowd gathered along the street.
Keizo had already mounted his horse and sat waiting. Raidan swung into his saddle and the king signaled to the litter bearers. Ashinji Sakehera stepped away as they raised Jelena and her litter to their shoulders. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then went to mount up beside his father. Raidan maneuvered his horse into position next to the king, and they moved off.
The procession wound its way slowly through the streets of Sendai. The largely okui crowds greeted their king and his newly legitimized daughter with polite cheers and muted applause.
All of that changed the moment they entered Jokimichi.
The hikui folk had turned out as if for a festival day. All the shops and houses were hung with streamers and brightly painted banners. The people greeted Jelena with tumultuous cries, surging forward in a desperate attempt to touch her.
At first, Jelena appeared too overwhelmed to move. She sat as still as a painted statue, one manicured hand pressed to her lips. Then, as if awakening from a dream, she turned her head from side to side, and Raidan could see tears flowing from her eyes, carving streaks through her heavy white court makeup. She leaned forward and thrust her hand over the side of the litter, like a woman dangling her fingers over the gunwale of a boat.
An old man seized her fingers, kissed them, then just as quickly released them. Another and yet another person grabbed her hand, each one pressing it fervently to adoring lips.
The King’s Guard made a move to close in and put a stop to things, but Jelena shouted at them to maintain their places. Keizo nodded his head, signaling to the bewildered guardsmen that they should obey his daughter.
“It appears that the hikui folk have already taken your daughter into their hearts!” Raidan had to shout in order to be heard above the crowd.
“So it would seem!” Keizo replied. “Would that the rest of our people were as accepting!”
“Give them time, Brother! The people love you, so they will love your daughter because she is yours!” Raidan spoke to reassure his brother, though he, himself did not really believe his own words, and he could see the uncertainty written on Keizo’s face. The king had always paid close attention to popular opinion, even before he had come to his throne. Raidan felt certain that his brother had noticed the lukewarm reception given to Jelena by the majority of the okui in the city. The prince did not think it realistic to expect that Jelena would be able to win over the okui people of Sendai, despite her likeability and determination.
The procession flowed like a colorful snake out of the hikui district, then turned around and began the slow ascent back toward the castle. Raidan glanced over his shoulder at Jelena, who now leaned back against her pillows, eyes closed. She looked so young and vulnerable, and despite the ruin of her makeup, exquisitely pretty. Raidan could now understand Ashinji Sakehera’s attraction to her.
The crowds had become once again mostly okui folk, curious to see the hikui girl from the east whom the king had declared an Onjara princess. They cheered, but Raidan knew they directed their devotions toward Keizo and not his newly proclaimed offspring. The prince was well-pleased.
It seems that ambition will be served merely by awaiting the inevitable turn of events, he thought.
Within a cold, shadow-haunted chamber, far below the light and warmth of the inhabited levels of Sendai Castle, the King’s Companion knelt before a small altar of rough-hewn stone. Scattered about the room lay the tools of the sorcerer’s trade-thuribles, rock crystal orbs of various sizes, wands, and an extensive collection of vials, bags, bundles, and bottles-all crammed together on plank shelves affixed to the plastered stone walls.
Sonoe had chosen her workplace with care-an abandoned storeroom deep within the warren of chambers that made up the undercroft of the castle. Hers was a secretive business.
The altar stood in the exact center of an intricate circular pattern of lines painstakingly etched into the hard-packed clay of the cellar floor. Viewed from above, a discerning eye could see the many smaller patterns that made up the larger arcane construct. At each point where two or more lesser patterns intersected, a small beeswax taper burned.
Sonoe focused her mind on the task at hand. She removed the gold pins holding her fiery tresses in place and shook them free. She then untied the sash of her thin silk robe and let it slip from her shoulders to the floor. Her bare skin-pale as fresh cream in the candlelight-roughened with gooseflesh in the chilly air, but she ignored the discomfort.
She removed the black stone pendant that hung about her neck and placed it on the altar, then paused to steel herself against what she knew she must soon endure.
The spirit will no doubt wish to…abuse me first, she thought . I mustn’t break, mustn’t show any weakness…No matter what it does to my flesh.
Casting a pinch of incense upon the glowing coals in the small iron thurible, she inhaled the pungent fumes and felt a rush as the mildly narcotic smoke entered her body. Her mind drifted into the still place at the center of her being-that part of her wherein dwelt the essence of her Talent. She drew on the well of energy that fed her power and directed it outward, so that it could be shaped according to her will.
Her fingers tingled and sparked as she picked up the small blade lying beside the thurible, and with a quick, sure stroke, she made a shallow cut across the ball of her left thumb. She squeezed and a crimson bead of blood appeared. Carefully, so as not to spill a single drop, she let her life force drip, along with her blood, into a silver chalice. One, two, three…
After she had counted six drops, she bound her slashed thumb in a strip of clean linen. The first part of the spell was complete.
Next, she poured a measure of wine into the chalice. “I maketh this draught from the blood of my veins and the life force of my body, so that it may be a worthy offering,” she murmured, stirring the wine with an ivory rod.
She cast another pinch of incense onto the thurible, then lit two red candles.
She raised her arms. “I entreat thee, O Nameless One! Thy servant Sonoe awaits your dread touch. I am ready to receive thee, Master!”
She let all of her mental shields drop, and waited.
The black stone now glowed from within, emitting an eerie, blue light. Sonoe could feel the approach of the ancient spirit, the one who had dwelt in darkness, imprisoned, for a millennium, and now hovered on the verge of freedom. He had first come to her in a vision, whispering promises of power beyond all imagining, the power of an empress who would rule at his side.
The stone served as a link, and she, Sonoe, acted as the living tool by which the Nameless One would obtain the one thing essential to his plan.
The Key.
He came like the wind before a storm, surging along the link forged between them by the combined strength of their magics. He slammed into her body, hurling her onto her back with brutal force. She felt her legs forced apart and then the sensation of some thing entering her. Though she had anticipated this, still she screamed in pain and fury as the Nameless One assaulted her. She felt as if she were impaled upon a spear of ice, the frozen organ of a frost giant.
It seemed as if the rape went on for hours, but in reality, it lasted no more than a few heartbeats.
The Nameless One withdrew and hovered before her, radiating malevolent satisfaction.
In form, he appeared as a black mist, ever-shifting, though always maintaining the rough outline of a man. Twin orbs, glowing like baleful red coals, occupied the space where the eyes of a living man would have been.
His voice rang in her head like the peal of a huge, brazen bell.
You are mine, to do with as I please.
Sonoe licked dry, cracked lips. She struggled to rise, wincing in pain, but the spirit lashed out and forced her into a servile crouch.
You will always be on your knees before me, unless I give you permission to be otherwise, or unless I wish you on your back.
Sonoe shook with fury and fear in equal measure. “When you first came to me, you promised me power! You said that you would make me an empress, but instead, I find that I am to be your slave?” She glared up at the Nameless One through a curtain of mussed hair.
A rough sound, like the grinding of metal upon metal, rent the air. Sonoe flushed in humiliation at the Nameless One’s scornful laughter.
The moment you forged the mind link with me, you became my slave, Sonoe. But do not despair. Though you are my slave, you shall indeed share my triumph and my power. No other shall be set above you, save me. I shall reshape reality to my will and we will rule over all things, side by side.
Sonoe’s anger began to cool, then hardened into steely resolve. “I submit then, willingly, Master,” she murmured.
Again, the metallic grinding of the Nameless One’s laughter tore at her ears and her mind.
Submission does not come easily to you, beautiful one, but you will learn, and it will be my pleasure to teach you.
Sonoe felt her breasts and thighs caressed by an unseen, icy hand. Though bitter bile rose in her throat and threatened to choke her, she remained still.
The one who harbors the Key. Tell me of her.
“She sleeps in the arms of her husband, in chambers near the king’s private quarters,” Sonoe answered in a rough voice. “I have scanned her and tasted her energy! It is…delicious!” Sonoe found herself becoming aroused at the memory of how the Key had felt. She had experienced nothing like it before – intoxicating, exhilarating, yet terrifying all at once. She had immediately craved more, but there had been a barrier, like a layer of clear ice, preventing more than a cursory touch.
The vessel knows nothing of what she harbors?
“She knows she has Talent, and she knows some facts about the Key. I couldn’t prevent my…colleague, Amara Sakehera, from telling her. The girl is her daughter-in-law, after all.” Sonoe paused.
You must be careful. I need not tell you the dire consequences if you are discovered.
“I am well aware of the risks!” Sonoe hissed in annoyance. If any of her fellows in the Society discovered her duplicity, not even the king himself could save her. But none of that mattered. The Nameless One offered a prize worth any amount of risk.
You must be prepared to kill them all to gain control of the vessel.
Sonoe knew full well that “them” meant her fellow Kirians, as well as anyone else who might interfere. Amara Sakehera she could deal with easily, but Taya Onjara was another matter. As for the rest of the Kirian Society, the one person who had the power to stop her-the former Mistress of the Society, Chiana Hiraino-mysteriously disappeared years ago. The only remaining members-Iza Fudai and Keyak Hyuga-were both retired from practice.
“I can do whatever it takes,” Sonoe declared. “But you must be ready to do your part when the time comes!” She watched the spirit’s misty form grow ever more insubstantial as the power that sustained the link between them weakened.
My strength is fading, otherwise you would be writhing in agony for your insolence. The link must be severed soon, so listen carefully. First, you must befriend the girl, earn her trust. Only then will we be able to gain control of her. I shall…keep watch…on…your… progress…!
“I understand…Master,” Sonoe replied.
The Nameless One severed the link.
Sonoe knew the spirit had withdrawn to his prison beneath the icy wastes of the Kesen Numai Mountains to rest and rebuild his strength. She felt like a spent wineskin. The dull pain between her legs served as a brutal reminder of the price for her ambition. She crawled over to where her robe lay and pulled the thin fabric over her naked and bruised body, then slowly climbed to her feet. How she would explain her condition to Keizo she had not yet decided, but he knew that, at times, her work as a high level mage could be hazardous. He would not question her too closely.
With her remaining strength, she conjured a magelight, then extinguished the guttering tapers and slipped the black stone pendant around her neck. Lifting the offering chalice to her lips, she drained it to the dregs. Her magical sense detected not a trace of her blood left in the wine. The Nameless One had taken it all.
With the magelight drifting before her, Sonoe began the long walk back to the king’s private quarters.
"I’ve just received an urgent message from my steward.” Sen Sakehera waved a small piece of paper in the air like a flag. “Several reports have come in, leading him to believe that a sizable fighting force is gathering just beyond my borders at Amsara Castle.”
Raidan had never before seen Sakehera so agitated. Raidan and Keizo, along with Sakehera, now met in the king’s private chambers each morning, to eat breakfast and review any reports that had come in from the previous day. Six weeks had come and gone since Keizo had presented his daughter to the people, and during that time, the plans for the defense of Alasiri had begun to take their final shape.
“So. It begins,” Keizo said quietly. “But why so soon? Winter will be on us in a matter of weeks. Surely, the humans don’t mean to attack us in the snow!”
“No, the Soldarans are not stupid; on the contrary, they are very clever,” Raidan pointed out. “This move is meant as a diversionary tactic. We expected they might try this very thing.”
“Of course,” Keizo said, nodding. “The Soldarans know we will have to send a force out to deal with them… The empress is trying to distract us, split our forces and disrupt our plans for the defense of Tono next spring.”
“My steward also reports that there’ve been some isolated attacks,” Sakehera continued. “Crops destroyed, livestock slaughtered or stolen… but so far, nothing more organized.” He paced around the room, pausing at last to gaze out of a window. “The duke’s been a good neighbor up ‘til now,” he said, “but, when all’s said and done, he’s a Soldaran nobleman and must obey his empress. Our peaceful coexistence is over, I s’pose.”
“I see no other alternative but to send your own troops back to Kerala, augmented with a contingent from the regular army. Kerala and its people must be protected,” Keizo said. “Unfortunately, I simply can’t spare you, Sen. Your son will to have to lead the troops in your place.”
“Sadaiyo may be my Heir, but he was not trained as an army officer. Leading a unit of Kerala guardsmen is one thing, but…” Sakehera spread wide his hands, as if offering an apology for his son’s perceived shortcomings.
“Then I’ll put my son-in-law in charge,” Keizo said. “He is a trained officer with years of experience.”
“No, Brother,” Raidan interjected. “Sen’s Heir should lead the force back to Kerala. It wouldn’t be proper to give command to his younger brother, even if he is more qualified. Let them both go, but send your son-in-law as his brother’s second. That way, rank is maintained and you have an experienced officer to keep an eye on things.”
“Yes, of course. A sensible solution,” the king agreed. He turned a rueful face toward Sakehera. “My daughter will not be at all pleased when she learns that she’s to be separated from her husband,” he sighed.
“No. Neither will my son, especially now, with his first child on the way,” Sakehera agreed. “But they both realize what’s at stake here. They know their duty.” The Commanding General came away from the window and sat down at the table where a servant had just finished laying out the morning meal. “My sons have never had anything other than enmity between them, much to my sorrow,” he said, rubbing his chin pensively. “It’s entirely my own fault. Truth is, I’ve always loved Ashinji best. Of all my children, he’s the one that comes closest to the person I wish I could be. I just pray Sadaiyo can put aside his bitterness…” He shook his head. “No, no. Both my sons will do what’s required of them.”
“Of course they will. They both have my complete trust, old friend,” Keizo assured. Sakehera nodded in gratitude. “With any luck, this operation should take only about two months time, three at the most,” the king continued. “The first snowfall will put an end to it, if we don’t succeed in driving the Soldarans back before then.”
Raidan drummed his fingertips on the dark, polished wood of the table. “There’s another pressing matter, I’m afraid,” he said. “I’ve gotten several more reports from Tono about the human plague. There’s been an increase in the number of cases of the disease striking elves, and what’s worse, Odata thinks some of her troops have come down with it.”
“Damn!” Keizo exclaimed. “If this plague takes hold in a serious way among Odata’s people, we are in very deep trouble. I don’t need to tell you what devastation an unchecked illness can wreak on an army.”
“I’m researching a preventative,” Raidan stated. “I’ve been studying the writings of a certain human physician who has come up with a very interesting theory, which I intend to test… on myself if I have to.”
“That sounds too dangerous. I can’t allow you to risk your life in such a manner. I rely on you too much!” Keizo replied forcefully.
Raidan raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “I promise I won’t take any foolish risks, Brother, and I swear I’ll do nothing until I have learned more about Nazarius’ theory.”
“What does this theory say?” Sakehera asked. “How can the disease be prevented?”
“Nazarius proposed that the essence of the disease itself can be utilized in producing a kind of natural blockage,” Raidan answered. “Unfortunately, Nazarius himself died before he could test his theory.”
The king shook his head. “This all sounds so fantastical. How can a sickness prevent itself from afflicting a body?”
“Your question reveals just how little we know about the workings of illnesses. It’s why I’ve devoted myself to science…to find out the answers.”
The king appeared unconvinced, but Raidan knew the futility of arguing any longer. His brother remained firmly mired in the traditional view that magic and science existed as separate entities, rather than the more rational view that each stood as two different aspects of the same discipline. To Keizo, magic would always be the superior path.
“We need to have our force on the road to Kerala as soon as possible,” Keizo said.
“They can leave by the end of the week,” Sakehera answered.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Raidan knew that each of them shared the same dire thoughts which no one wished to speak aloud.
A shout, followed by the sound of a young woman’s laughter- lighthearted and joyful-floated up from the yard below.
“Our children are down in your private sparring yard, hitting each other with practice swords,” Sakehera commented. “I wonder how wise that is, given Jelena’s condition.” Raidan noted the fatherly concern in his voice.
“I’ve known my daughter barely two months,” Keizo said, “but I’ve come to learn that she is very much an Onjara. When she sets her mind to something, nothing will deter her. She has insisted on serious weapons training…to aid in the defense of Alasiri, she says.”
“Keizo, we need to formulate plans for what we might do if…if it looks like the Soldarans will prevail.” Sakehera’s voice was grave.
“Don’t you think that is a little premature?” the king shot back. “We haven’t even had so much as a skirmish yet! You’re selling us short if you’re already talking of defeat before the war’s even begun!”
“Sen’s right, Brother. Our forces are outnumbered at least three to one. The Soldarans have the most formidable army in the known world. He’s just trying to be realistic. We need a backup plan should the unthinkable happen and the Imperial Army succeed in breaking through our lines at Tono.” Raidan paused, then added, “I also believe we should plan to utilize magic as part of our overall defense plan.”
Keizo cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you were a man of science, Brother. Now, you advocate using magic?”
“I believe we need to use every weapon at our disposal. The humans have no magic; therefore, they will be unable to mount any defense against ours. It could give us the advantage we need to counter their superior numbers.”
“Yes, yes, that’s true!” Sakehera agreed.
Keizo laid his hands flat against the table and looked up with troubled eyes. “The amount of skill and energy required to conjure the kind of powerful workings we are going to need will be enormous. It will take several high level sorcerers, and even then, the risks to each of them of death or insanity will be significant…Still, I agree with you.”
“We should consult my wife,” Raidan replied. “She, better than anyone else at court, will know exactly what needs to be done.”
“I will hear from Taya tomorrow, then, during the council meeting.” Keizo paused, then added, “I plan to allow Jelena to attend as well. It’s high time she started learning the skills of statecraft. The future has become too uncertain. I want her to have at least a basic knowledge, in case…” Keizo frowned and would not meet Raidan’s eyes.
“In case…what? What are you trying to say, Keizo?” The unspoken part of the question hung like a dark shadow between them. The king stood and went over to the window. He stared out over the sunswept rooftops for awhile, hands folded behind him, rocking back and forth on his heels. A stray breeze lifted a tendril of silver hair and blew it back over his shoulder.
“I’m not trying to say anything, Brother, other than I wish my daughter to be prepared for any eventuality,” he said at last, turning from the window to face Raidan. “Both of us will necessarily have to risk our lives on the battlefield when the time comes, as will your son Raidu. It may come to pass that Jelena will be the only one of our blood left who can carry on. I want her to be ready.”
Raidan felt the heat of anger rise within him, but he ruthlessly quelled it. As much as he hated to admit it, Keizo was right. He remembered Taya’s admonition that he do nothing, even if Keizo took the unthinkable step and proclaimed Jelena his Heir. There were larger forces at work, and Raidan had to give them time to play their part.
“Keizo, I want to go talk to my sons, tell ‘em they’re heading home and what they’re to do when they get there…If I have your leave?” Sakehera asked. Despite their lifelong friendship and the familiarity that came with it, Sakehera never forgot that Keizo was his sovereign first and foremost.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Keizo consented. “And when you see my daughter, please tell her to come to me as soon as is convenient. I’ll be in my study.”
“I will. Raidan,” Sakehera said, nodding his head in farewell. He rose from his chair and departed.
“Brother, I know you too well,” Keizo said after Sakehera had left the room. He returned to his chair and poured himself another cup of tea before continuing. Raidan remained silent, waiting. “I’ve known since the day our brother Okame died, when I ascended the throne and you became my Heir, that you’ve desired the crown for yourself, or if not for you, then for Raidu.”
“I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise,” Raidan replied. “But I have always stood behind you and supported you as a brother should. I’ve never allowed my ambition to cloud my judgment.”
“True enough. I rely on and trust you most of all, but I suspect that if I try to set my daughter above you, you will fight me, even to the point of open rebellion.”
Raidan’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Keizo, who stared back at him with eyes as hard and cold as glacial ice. He chose his next words with great care. “Brother, when have I ever given you cause to question my loyalty? I hold the good of our people before all else, just as you do, Keizo. The last thing I want is a civil war, which is what will surely happen if you try to name Jelena as your Heir.”
“Is that a threat?” Keizo asked in a conversational tone, but Raidan could see tightly controlled anger in the rigid lines of his brother’s body.
“No! It is merely a statement of fact. I happen to know over half the Council would oppose you, and in the ensuing fight, factions will inevitably form among the lesser nobility, further weakening us at a time when we need to be strong and united. And let us not forget the people!” Raidan stabbed the air with a forefinger, for emphasis. “Most, if not all okui will refuse to accept her as Heir, whereas the hikui will embrace her; in fact, they already have! Jelena would serve as a very potent symbol for them and encourage them to demand equal legal status.”
“Don’t you think the people will accept my daughter because she is mine? She is a true Onjara; the White Griffin proved it!” Keizo replied heatedly.
“Keizo, you should have married and gotten yourself a legitimate heir!” Raidan shouted. “I don’t know why you never did, because if you had done so, we wouldn’t be in this situation now! I would have gladly stepped aside for a legal child of yours, but for a bastard hikui …” He stopped and closed his eyes, unable to continue as his anger threatened to boil over and consume him.
“You dare speak to me thus?” Keizo asked in a low voice.
Raidan’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s stop right now before I…before we take this too far.” He leaned forward, his face close enough for Keizo to strike if he so chose. “Zin… Brother! I don’t wish to fight you, but…I beg of you. Don’t do anything that all of us will regret. At least hold off making any decision until after we settle things with the Soldarans.”
Keizo’s jaw worked, as if dangerous words fought to free themselves from the confines of his mouth. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and for one tense moment, Raidan thought his brother would punch him in the face after all. He prepared to dodge the blow, but it never came. Keizo sat back in his chair with a grunt and turned his face away. He rested his chin in his hand.
Raidan sighed with relief. “Keizo, I…” he began, but the king interrupted him.
“Leave me. I need to think.” He refused to meet Raidan’s eyes.
Without another word, Raidan got up and departed.
"You did very well with the sword today, love,” Ashinji said. “Your cousin Magnes would be proud.”
“I know you held back, Ashi, even though I’ve asked you not to,” Jelena replied with mock irritation. “You won’t hurt the baby. The swords are dull and besides, you aren’t aiming anywhere near my belly.”
The two of them had spent the morning in the king’s private sparring yard; after a quick bath, they had returned to the Sakehera family quarters for a lunch of cold meat, cheese, and bread. After helping themselves, they settled into their favorite window seat overlooking a small garden courtyard directly below the tower apartment.
Jelena’s weapons training now kept Ashinji busy most mornings. Within the short period of time he had been schooling her, she had made rapid progress. He felt Jelena pushed herself out of fear of the near future, but also from her desire to master some basic skills before her body grew too ungainly.
“I can’t help worrying, but…” he raised a hand to forestall her protest, “it doesn’t mean I don’t think you should learn how to defend yourself.” His undeniable need to protect her had to coexist with his desire to help her become strong and self-confident. Sometimes, he found it difficult to balance the two.
Five months into her pregnancy, Jelena glowed with robust health. The nausea that had plagued her early on had subsided; her appetite had increased to the point where she now ate more than he did. Ashinji gazed into his wife’s face and noted how it had grown rounder, softer. Even with her mouth full of food, he found her irresistible.
Jelena is carrying our child, he thought, smiling. She stared back at him quizzically.
“What? Do I have sauce on my nose?” She reached up to wipe her face.
“No, love. I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”
Jelena laid her hand on her swollen midsection. “I’m the lucky one,” she replied.
They continued their meal in companionable silence; ever attuned to her mood, Ashinji gradually became aware of a subtle change in his wife’s demeanor.
“Something’s troubling you. What is it?” he asked.
Jelena sighed and took a sip of wine from her tankard before answering.
“I visited Sateyuka yesterday,” she said.
“Your friend the weaver.” Ashinji had yet to meet Jelena’s new friend, but he approved of their acquaintance.
“Yes. Going down to Jokimichi, remembering what happened to Sateyuka and her family…it made me angry all over again, Ashi.”
“Have you spoken to your father about how you feel?”
Jelena shook her head. “No. Until now, I felt I didn’t know him well enough to speak to him about such things. But we have grown much closer in the last few weeks. My father is a good man and a good king, but I think he ignores the plight of the hikui…not because he’s uncaring, but because to change the laws would mean going against tradition.”
Ashinji picked his next words with care. “I know you’ll be angry when you hear this, but…perhaps now is not the time to distract your father with this.” Jelena looked at him sharply. Ashinji took her hand. “I don’t mean to say I think it’s right that a hikui should be less than any okui person under the law, but if the Soldarans succeed in overrunning Alasiri, none of that will matter. We’ll all suffer, okui and hikui alike.”
“I know what you are saying is right,” Jelena conceded, “but I still must tell him how I feel. I’m sure he’d want to know.”
“Ah, children!” Sen called out as he swept into the room, interrupting their conversation.
“Hello, Father,” Ashinji rose to greet his father. “You look troubled.”
“I have news, Youngest Son.” He regarded Ashinji with a solemn expression.
“Father, what’s happened?” Ashinji asked, frowning. He moved closer to Jelena and slipped an arm around her waist.
“There’s trouble back home,” Sen answered. “Soldaran troops are gathering at Amsara Castle. We have good intelligence that says they’re planning an attack on Kerala within the month.”
“No!” Jelena exclaimed. “My uncle can’t…” She stopped herself with a fierce shake of her head. “What am I saying…of course he can!” She swore a string of oaths in Soldaran. Sen’s eyebrows shot up.
“Easy, Wife,” Ashinji soothed, stroking her arm. “How large is the duke’s army, Father?”
“At least two thousand strong, by the best estimates of our scouts, and nearly half of that is heavy cavalry. And it’s not the duke who leads them.”
“Who, then?” Jelena asked. “Surely not my cousin Magnes! He would never…Wait, wait. It must be Thessalina. She’s always been the captain of the ducal forces. But then that means…” She grabbed Ashinji’s forearm and he winced at the strength of her grip. “Something has happened to my uncle, Ashi. He’s ill, or…or…” She paused, then added, “He would never allow Thessalina to lead his troops into battle if he could do so himself.”
“A woman does, indeed, appear to be in charge,” Sen confirmed.
“Have there been any reports of my cousin Magnes?” Jelena asked.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but the scouts don’t know what your cousin looks like. There’s really no way to tell if he’s even at Amsara.”
“I know you’re worried about Magnes, Jelena,” Ashinji said. “Let’s pray that he somehow finds a way to get through this trouble unscathed.”
“The king wants a force of our own in Kerala to stand ready to repel any sorties the Soldarans make across our border,” Sen continued.
Ashinji frowned. “Why would the empress choose to launch an invasion so far to the east…and why now? I thought her plan is to attack through the Tono valley next spring.”
“Think about it, Son. The empress knows that by sending an army out to the east now, she can split our forces and weaken us by making us fight an exhausting defensive action. This way, she wears us down before the main fight even starts.”
The harsh squawk of a raven drifted in through the open window. The sound filled Ashinji with foreboding. He shivered and pulled Jelena close against him. He could sense her puzzlement. “I assume Sadaiyo will lead our guards back to Kerala?” he asked.
“Our guard and a contingent of regular troops, yes,” Sen replied, then added, “You’ll go along as his second-in-command.” Ashinji felt Jelena stiffen in his arms. She pulled away and sank back onto the window seat, her face gone pale.
“My heart is telling me to beg you not to send Ashi away,” she whispered, looking at Sen, “but my mind understands what is at stake. I know where my husband’s duty lies.” The pain and fear in his wife’s voice cut like knives; still, Ashinji had never been so proud of her.
“Spoken like a true princess,” Sen replied. “Your bravery honors us, my dear.”
“I don’t feel very brave right now.” Jelena put an impatient hand to her face and dashed away the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
“When do we leave, Father?” Ashinji asked.
“Two days from now. I’ll be staying in Sendai. The king can’t spare me just now. The full council meets tomorrow. There’s still a lot of planning to be done, and in light of these new developments… Well, I’ve got to go find your brother, and I pray to the One that wife of his controls her temper when she hears Sadaiyo’s going away without her!”
“I’ll be ready, Father,” Ashinji assured. Sen nodded and squeezed his shoulder, then headed for the door.
Ashinji sat on the couch beside Jelena. She looked so young and frightened, like a little girl who faced the loss of her entire world.
“Jelena…” he began, but she laid a finger to his lips, stilling his words.
“Please don’t say anything, Ashi.”
He gathered her into his arms and held her while she cried.
That night, Ashinji dreamed of fire. Flames shot up in bright walls all around him, yet he could not run fast enough to escape. The sounds of pursuit-the thud of horses’ hooves, the hoarse shouts of men-echoed in his ears; suddenly, he found himself surrounded by shadows, all featureless, save one. He knew, with terrible certainty, that if he could recognize that face, he would be able to save himself.
‘ Help me!’ he cried, but harsh laughter drowned out his plea. The eyes of the one he should have known burned like stars-cold and distant. Ashinji realized at that moment he was lost. A high-pitched keening, like the wail of a damned soul tore at his ears. He looked down to see an arrow had sprouted from his chest. Bright blood, red as roses, spurted, and he fell, down, down, into darkness…
…and woke with a start, clammy with sweat. His heart hammered against his ribcage and his limbs shook with the knowledge that he had just experienced not a dream, but a vision of his future. He turned to look at Jelena, who lay facing him, sleeping soundly. As he watched, she sighed and muttered, then rolled onto her other side, away from him.
He lay back and took a deep breath, trying to will his body to relax, but to no avail. He knew he would sleep no more this night.
When Jelena awoke the following morning, she found him sitting in the window, staring out over the rooftops, his eyes narrowed against the red glare of the rising sun.
“Little Brother, your first duty as my second-in-command is to hold my stirrup while I mount.” Sadaiyo grinned in more of a wolfish display of his teeth than an actual smile.
“Good morning to you, too, Brother,” Ashinji replied, determined to keep a rein on his temper. “The company is assembled and ready to move out as soon as you give the order.”
“Lord Ashinji!” a familiar voice called. Ashinji turned to see Gendan approaching at a brisk walk, helmet tucked beneath one arm; Aneko trailed him by a few steps. The Captain of the Kerala Guard bowed crisply to Sadaiyo, acknowledging his presence, as did Aneko, but both gave their entire attention to Ashinji as Gendan spoke.
“It’s good to see you, my lord,” the captain exclaimed.
“Likewise, Gendan,” Ashinji replied, then turning to Aneko, he said, “Jelena has missed you. She wanted to visit you at the barracks, but…”
“I understand, my lord,” Aneko replied, smiling. “Things have changed a lot. My good friend Jelena is no longer as free as she once was. Such is the fate the One has decreed for her.”
“You must be anxious to get back home to see your wife, Gendan,” Ashinji said. “I’m sure it’s been hard being separated from her these past months.”
Gendan nodded. “Kami’s a strong girl, my lord, but no woman should have to endure childbirth without her man beside her. Your father, Goddess bless him, has given me permission to stay at Kerala ‘til after Kami delivers.”
“My father is a compassionate man,” Ashinji replied, studiously ignoring Sadaiyo.
“I have work to do,” Sadaiyo grumbled, clearly irritated at not being the center of attention. Both Kerala guards bowed their heads as he stomped off.
“Jelena should be here any moment,” Ashinji said. “She’s probably with my father and the king. She’ll come out with them to see us off.”
Ashinji observed Gendan discreetly watching his brother. The captain frowned as Sadaiyo berated a soldier for some minor infraction. His eyes flashed as they shifted to Ashinji. “May I speak freely, my lord?” he asked.
“Of course, Gendan. You needn’t ever be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I know why ‘tis Lord Sadaiyo leads this expedition, rather than you, my lord, and we’ll all obey him, as is our duty, but…” He paused, lower lip caught between his teeth. Ashinji remained silent, waiting for the captain to collect his thoughts and continue. Gendan leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just know, should you need us, the Kerala home guard’ll stand behind you, my lord.”
Aneko nodded in agreement. “We will always have your back, Lord Ashinji,” she said.
Ashinji tugged at his earlobe, unsure of how to respond to Gendan’s words. Kerala’s captain had made it clear where his loyalties lay, and the part of Ashinji that despised the kind of man his brother was, felt deeply moved. The other part that honored familial duty pricked him with guilt.
Ashinji’s father had placed him under his brother’s command, in a position of trust. He was honor-bound to obey Sadaiyo’s orders, whatever he might personally feel about his brother.
Shouts and cries of “ The king is here!” rose above the throng of soldiers and horses milling about the parade ground.
Gendan tapped Aneko’s arm. “We’d best be gettin’ back to our places.” He then looked pointedly at Ashinji. “Remember what I said, my lord.”
Ashinji watched as the two Kerala guards hurried away and were swallowed up by the crowd, then turned and headed toward the castle’s main entrance. Soldiers stepped aside to let him pass, many of them offering him words of greeting. Since becoming the son-in-law of Silverlock, Ashinji found himself in a position where he had never expected to be-he was famous.
And rich, in his own right. As a wedding gift, the king had given him the best thing he possibly could have-financial independence in the form of his own land. Just yesterday, Ashinji had received the first financial reports. The estate of Goura was small, but profitable, and would be even more so once a competent manager could be found to run it. It lay about two day’s ride northeast of Kerala Castle, just over the border in neighboring Manza, the demesne of Lord Dai, Sadaiyo’s father-in-law.
The family that had once held Goura had died out, leaving the estate vacant. Ordinarily, any vassal estate in which the family line became extinct would pass to the ruling lord to be disposed of as he or she saw fit. Most of the time, the land would be given to a younger child of the lord. No doubt, the king had compensated Lord Dai well for the land.
Misune probably would have received Goura, Ashinji thought. No doubt Sadaiyo has already pointed out to her how I’ve been given what should have rightfully been hers.
He reached the broad, shallow steps leading up to the castle’s main entrance just as his father, the king, Prince Raidan, and Jelena all emerged. He waited for them to reach the bottom stair, then bowed his head. “Your Majesty, your Highness.” He looked up and caught Jelena’s eye.
When he had left her behind in the warm haven of their bed before sunrise, he had made her promise she would eat something before she came down to see him off. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Yes, I ate,” Jelena replied, laughing, but her voice caught and he saw tears glittering in her eyes. Despite her brave face, put on for his benefit, he sensed her fear, though she held it well in check. She came and stood beside him, linking her arm with his.
“Where is your brother, Son?” Sen inquired, eyes scanning the crowd.
“I’m not sure,” Ashinji replied. He looked over his shoulder. “He was…”
“Here he comes now,” Prince Raidan said.
Sadaiyo emerged from the throng, looking harried and followed by an equally harried aide. He sketched a bow before the king and the prince. His eyes flicked over Ashinji and away again, as if his brother wasn’t worth his attention.
“The army is ready to form up and move out, your Majesty,” Sadaiyo reported.
“Very good,” Keizo replied. “You may give the order any time.”
“Father, have you seen Misune?” Sadaiyo inquired, his voice rough with irritation. Sen shook his head.
“Haven’t seen her, Son. I’m sure she’ll be here before you leave, though.”
“She’d better be,” Sadaiyo grumbled. He turned to Ashinji. “Go and give the order.” He bowed again and dashed off into the crowd, shouting for his aide to bring his horse. The king, Prince Raidan, and Sen had all moved off a little way and stood in a close huddle, their expressions intense. Ashinji slipped an arm around Jelena’s waist and pulled her close so he could speak to her without having to raise his voice. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could gaze into the warm hazel of her eyes.
He opened his mouth but no words would come, as if his tongue had lost all ability to form meaningful sounds .
I love her so much, it hurts, he thought . I can’t burden her now, not when we are about to part, with the vision I’ve been given of my future.
She gazed expectantly at him, love flowing out of her body like the blue fire she harbored within herself. It felt so sweet, and yet the pain of knowing he might not live to see her again made it almost unbearable.
His throat ached with unshed tears.
“Jelena,” he began, then paused to catch his breath.
“What is it, my love?” she whispered.
He rested his forehead against hers. “There’s too much to say and not enough time for all of the words,” he said. “Let me try and mindspeak to you.” She nodded and closed her eyes.
He rarely used his ability to mindspeak. It always made his head hurt when he tried, but any amount of pain seemed worth the effort to convey his innermost feelings.
He entered her mind as gently as he could, amazed anew at the brilliance of it. The blue fire burned at the core of her being, mysterious and powerful, but he shied away from it, wary of its strength. He opened himself to her and let the love that filled his soul pour from him like blood from an open wound. He gave every drop he could, and when he could give no more, he withdrew.
Jelena cried out as he staggered, momentarily weak as a kitten. She clutched at him, trying to hold him up while he willed his knees to lock and take his weight. The weakness passed, but he knew the ache in his head would linger for hours.
“Ashinji!” Jelena whispered fiercely. “Ashi, look at me!” He met her eyes and winced at the intensity of her gaze. “Ashi, you promise me that you’ll come back to me- to us!” She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her belly. “This is your child in here, a child that needs its father! Promise you’ll come back!”
He closed his eyes.
“ Promise!” she cried.
He kissed her, and though he tried, he could not keep the desperation out of it. Jelena sobbed once, then with a mighty effort, stifled her tears. When at last she lifted her head, she had fully regained her composure.
“I swear, my love, that I will do everything in my power to return to you and our child,” Ashinji murmured. Jelena nodded, and as she reached up to touch his face, he grabbed her fingers and pressed them to his lips.
“ Captain Sakehera!” Sadaiyo bellowed. Ashinji sighed and turned to face his brother, who approached the steps on the back of a bay stallion. “You’ve had long enough to make your farewells! Get to your horse and give the order to form up! Now!”
“Go,” Jelena said, pulling herself up straight and proud, like a true princess.
“Lord Ashinji, your horse!” Homan, first sergeant of Peregrine Company and Ashinji’s aide, came forward, leading Ashinji’s favorite black charger Kian. Homan held the animal’s head while Ashinji mounted, then handed up his captain’s helmet. Jelena moved over to stand at Ashinji’s foot. She rested a hand on his stirrup. He looked down into her beautiful face.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” she said. He pulled the helmet down on his head and buckled the chinstrap, glad his face was now hidden from her. He did not want her last memory of him to be one in which he wept.
Misune made her appearance just before Sadaiyo gave the order to ride out. Lifting the hem of her bright yellow gown, she swept down the steps and strode briskly towards Sadaiyo’s horse, golden lion’s eyes flashing and mouth set in a petulant frown.
Ashinji felt a twinge of sympathy for her.
She is a skilled warrior, after all, he thought, and if she weren’t pregnant, she’d be riding out with us.
Ashinji watched from a discreet distance as his brother and sister-in-law exchanged a few tense words. He couldn’t hear what they said, but from the looks on their faces, and by the way Misune stomped off, he deduced their parting had been less than tender.
He took one last glimpse of Jelena, who had moved to stand between his father and the king, before urging his horse forward into place beside his brother.
The grille of Sadaiyo’s helmet obscured his facial expression, but his movements as he readied himself to ride were sharp and angry. Ashinji refrained from any comments; long, bitter experience told him that to say anything now would only invite a vicious verbal attack. Instead, he checked his gear and waited for Sadaiyo to give the order.
At last, Sadaiyo was ready. He raised a gloved hand in the air and swept it forward. Shouts ran up and down the lines as the signal passed through the ranks. The army began to move.
The grinding crunch of gravel beneath hundreds of hooves, the mingled smells of horse and leather, the hard blue sky above-all of Ashinji’s senses were heightened, the knowledge of his impending death acting as a stimulant to his nervous system. Every scent, sound, and color seemed impossibly acute, crystalline and pure. The urge to look back over his shoulder to see Jelena one last time proved almost too much to bear, but he dared not.
I might not be able to leave, he thought.
The army snaked down through the city, making its way toward the gates. The people lined up along both sides of the street, watching somberly as it passed, over eight hundred strong. Ashinji, seeing the apprehension in their faces, realized they knew this represented only the beginning of what could prove to be a brutal, devastating war.
Sadaiyo remained silent until they had ridden beyond the outer gates and out on the broad road leading east toward Kerala. “So, Little Brother. Our father has finally found a way to force us to work together.” His tone, as usual, dripped with sarcasm.
“You are in command, Brother. I’ll follow your orders because that is my duty,” Ashinji answered. “All I ask is that you don’t allow your feelings for me to get in the way of your judgment. Too many lives are at stake.”
“If you mean my deep brotherly love for you, don’t worry,” Sadaiyo retorted. He urged his mount forward and soon, his bigger, faster stallion had pulled ahead of Ashinji’s black gelding. Ashinji was content to let his brother ride ahead.
As the morning wore on, the sun climbed higher and the day grew unseasonably warm. A late fall heat wave was not uncommon this far south-one last taste of summer before winter’s chill descended upon the land.
I know what a chicken roasting in an oven must feel like , Ashinji thought. He finally loosened the chinstrap and pulled his helmet off, resisting the urge to hurl it away from him. Instead, he hung it from the pommel of his saddle.
Looking over his shoulder at the ranks, Ashinji saw how the troops slumped in their saddles, wilting beneath the merciless sun. He made a decision.
Sadaiyo still rode a slight distance ahead with his aide, forcing Ashinji to urge his horse into a jog to catch up. As he moved alongside, Sadaiyo acknowledged him with the merest flicker of a glance.
Ignoring the implied slight, Ashinji spoke. “Perhaps it’s time to call a halt, Sadaiyo,” he suggested. “We’ve been riding steadily for at least three hours, and in this heat, the troops and horses will need more rest and water.”
“No,” Sadaiyo answered. “I’ve got to get this army to Kerala in ten days’ time, and unless I push hard, we won’t make it.”
“The troops will be in no shape to fight if they are pushed to exhaustion and they start dropping from the heat,” Ashinji pointed out. He kept his voice calm and reasonable. “Call a halt, Brother. It needn’t be a long one.” From the corner of his eye, Ashinji saw Sadaiyo’s aide staring intently over the tops of his own mount’s ears, pretending not to listen, but Ashinji knew better. The last thing he wanted was a public disagreement with Sadaiyo. Morale would suffer if the troops witnessed their leaders at odds.
Ashinji couldn’t see his brother’s face, but by the slump of his shoulders, he knew Sadaiyo had reconsidered and given in to good sense.
“Very well,” Sadaiyo answered through clenched teeth. “A brief stop. Give the order.”
The relief of the troops was palpable. The air rang with laughter and shouts as they pulled off their helmets and many upended water bottles over sweating faces. Ashinji poured water into a leather cup and held it up to Kian’s muzzle so he could drink. The horse eagerly sucked the cup dry and nosed Ashinji’s hand for more. He allowed the gelding one more drink before putting the bottle to his own lips.
Sadaiyo had removed his own helmet and now stood in the shade of a large old oak tree beside the road, deep in conversation with a man dressed in the plain garb of an estate worker. As Ashinji approached, he heard Sadaiyo tell the man to convey his thanks to his mistress. The man, after bobbing his head several times, turned and hurried off. Ashinji saw him mount an ugly mule and set off at a cumbersome trot down the road.
“Who was that?” he asked, pointing at the receding figures of man and mule.
“A servant from Enzan Estate,” Sadaiyo answered. He took a drink from his water bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Enzan’s only about another three hour’s march down the road. The Lady sent him out to invite us to camp on her lands. She’s even promised to feed all the senior officers…and put you and me up in the manor.”
“Amazing how quickly news of an army on the move travels,” Ashinji commented. He dropped to the ground and lay in the tough grass, folding his arms behind to cradle his aching head, still sore from mindspeaking with Jelena. “It will be nice to eat something other than camp food, but I’ll be sleeping under the stars tonight with my company,” he stated.
Sadaiyo rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself,” he replied. “I, for one, won’t pass up the chance to sleep in a real bed.”
“It will be strange, sleeping without my wife beside me,” Ashinji said quietly. Sorrow struck at his heart like a hammer blow. An image of fire obscured his vision for an instant. Sadaiyo said nothing. “You must feel the same way,” Ashinji added, looking up at his brother’s handsome profile. “I know it’s none of my business, but…” He paused, trying to read Sadaiyo’s mood, then decided to forge ahead. “I couldn’t help but notice that you and Misune parted on less than happy terms.”
“You’re right. It is none of your business, but since you are so curious, I’ll confide in you. Misune was furious that she had to stay behind. I tried to reason with her, but…” Sadaiyo threw up his hands in exasperation. “There’s just no reasoning with her sometimes! She’s like… a thunderstorm or a whirlwind!”
Ashinji hid a smile behind his hand. Clearing his throat, he offered words of sympathy. “I’m sure once she calms down she’ll realize that a campaign is no place for a pregnant woman, not even one of her considerable skill at arms.”
Sadaiyo snorted. “I doubt it…But what of your wife, Little Brother? How did the princess handle you leaving her?”
Ashinji thought he detected the slightest hint of distain in Sadaiyo’s voice when he said the word princess. “Jelena is strong, and incredibly brave. She’ll be all right. She has the king and our father to support her. And she’ll need their support, especially…after whatever happens… happens.”
Sadaiyo’s eyebrows lifted in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
Ashinji looked away, out over the stubbled fields shimmering in the midday sun. “Nothing. I just meant…we’ll be risking our lives in battle. Anything could happen.”
“I don’t know about you, but I plan on coming back alive,” Sadaiyo stated. “I’ve got a son on the way, and I intend to be there on the day he’s born.”
“A son?”
“That’s right. The child’s a boy. Misune can already sense his Talent. He’s going to be a grand mage, I’m sure of it.” Sadaiyo grinned. Ashinji felt his throat constrict with tears he dare not shed, tears for his own child who might have to grow up without a father.
Damn it! Visions are shades of what might be, not of what will be! I can’t give in to this! I’ve got to fight to change what I’ve been shown!
Ashinji rolled over and climbed to his feet. Restlessly, he paced around the hoary bole of the ancient tree, rubbing at his temples.
Sadaiyo regarded him with mild curiosity. “What’s gotten into you?” he inquired. “Nervous about facing the humans?”
Ashinji shot his brother a withering glance. Sadaiyo never missed an opportunity to needle him. “No,” he replied and turned to walk away toward the road where his sergeant Homan waited, holding his horse. He felt the strain of keeping a lid on his anger slowly but steadily wearing him down, and an entire day had not yet passed. How will I survive another nine? he thought.
“You look troubled, my lord,” Homan commented. “Anythin’ I can do to help?” The sergeant spoke with the slow drawl of the Arrisae Islands. Ashinji trusted him completely, but certain things were too personal to share, even with a trusted officer.
He shook his head. “Thank you, but there’s really nothing you, or anyone other than myself, can do about my particular set of problems.” He gazed down the dusty road. “There’s a good meal waiting for us at the end of our day’s march, I’ve heard.”
Homan grimaced. “Field rations are only for keepin’ the body from starving. No one really likes ‘em. A hot meal’ll be welcome. I s’pose there’ll be a soft bed for you and Lord Sadaiyo, eh?”
“I’m certain my brother will take every advantage of Enzan’s hospitality, but I’ll sleep with Peregrine Company.”
Homan nodded in approval. “You’ve always shared everythin’ with us, Cap’n. The good and the bad.”
Ashinji shrugged. “I’m a soldier, just like the rest of you.”
But not really, he admitted to himself . Not since Jelena’s ascended to her lofty position and pulled me up with her.
Even though they all tried to pretend as if nothing had changed, he could sense the difference in the way the men and women under his command viewed him, now that he had become Keizo Onjara’s son-in-law.
Before, he had shared an easy camaraderie with his company, the Peregrines. They followed his orders, not only because they had to, but because they genuinely liked and respected him. Ashinji knew none of that goodwill had changed, but now a distance existed between him and his troops that had everything to do with his new social status. Though unavoidable, it still saddened him.
Homan snapped to attention, and Ashinji turned to see Sadaiyo approaching, dangling his helmet carelessly by its chinstrap.
“Time to go,” he said as he brushed past, signaling for his horse.
“Pass the word along, Homan. We’re moving out,” Ashinji ordered. Homan nodded once in acknowledgement, then turned and began to shout out the order to mount up. His words echoed down the line and the army quickly rose up and fell in. On Sadaiyo’s signal, they resumed the march.
The sun hung low in a hazy sky when they finally reached Enzan Estate. The estate was large and prosperous, and the road leading to the manor wound through fields planted with row upon row of grapevines. Fruit hung heavy in plump, purple clusters on the gnarled vines, awaiting the harvest.
A figure stood in the road ahead of them, waving. As they drew closer, Ashinji recognized the man who had been sent to meet them several hours earlier. Sadaiyo held his arm up, signaling the column to stop.
The man approached and bowed low. “If it please you, my lords, my lady has bid me lead you to the ground where the army is to camp tonight.” Sadaiyo waved impatiently, indicating that the man should proceed. The servant bowed again and trotted off, leading them down a side road that curved away deeper into the vineyards.
Dusk had fallen by the time they left the vineyards and entered a large, open meadow. A single, massive oak tree stood near the center, like a well- armored sentry on guard duty. The manor house stood at the far edge of the grassy expanse, windows gleaming a soft gold from the light of many lamps. Sadaiyo reined his horse to a halt and dismounted. He handed off the stallion to his aide and turned around in a circle, surveying the ground. Ashinji waited, still mounted, for his brother’s command.
“Give the order to set up camp, and I want you and the other senior officers to assemble under that tree as soon as everything’s settled,” Sadaiyo directed. “I don’t intend to keep our hostess waiting any longer than necessary.”
The camp sprang up quickly. By the time Ashinji had passed the word to those officers who ranked high enough to dine at the lady’s table, most of the common troops had shed their armor and now attended to evening duties-grooming horses, starting small cooking fires, cleaning tack, laying out bedrolls.
Ashinji checked in with Peregrine Company before leaving to join the other senior officers.
“I feel sorry for you, Cap’n,” Homan drawled. “While you’re up at the manor eatin’ whatever poor fare the lady can scrape together, we’ll all be out here feasting on dried fish and journeycake!” A gale of laughter erupted all around. Ashinji grinned and for a brief moment, he felt the ease he had known with his people before he had been lifted so high above them by circumstance.
“I’ll try not to feel too envious,” he replied. “I’ll be back after dinner, so save some beer for me.”
“And a little something stronger, my lord?” Homan winked and held up a small metal flask. Ashinji recalled, with wistful clarity, the night he had shared a flask of muato with Magnes Preseren.
I wonder where Jelena’s cousin is now, he thought. Will we have the misfortune to come face to face on the field of battle? If I’m forced, can I fight, to the death, a man I call ‘friend’?
Goddess! Maybe the face I saw in my vision…belonged to Magnes! Can it be possible that my friend-my kinsman-will be the instrument of my death?
“My lord…Are you all right?”
Homan’s question broke Ashinji’s melancholy reverie.
“Yes, Sergeant, I’m fine…just thinking, is all.”
“We’ll see you later, then, Cap’n.”
“You surely will,” Ashinji replied. He waved in farewell and strode off into the darkness toward the great oak tree.
“There you are!” Sadaiyo called out as Ashinji arrived at the meeting place beneath the spreading branches of the old tree. “You’ve kept all of us waiting!”
“Sorry,” Ashinji murmured, glancing around at the six men and two women who made up Sadaiyo’s senior command. Like Ashinji, they all held the rank of captain, and, with the exception of Gendan, had served in the regular army for many years, two as far back as the reign of Keizo the Elder.
Gendan nodded in greeting. “My lord,” he said.
“Are the king’s officers treating you well, Gendan?” Ashinji asked quietly.
“Errrr…yes, Lord Ashinji, well enough, I reckon, though some of the troops are a little snotty to my guards. Guess they figure army regulars rate above a lowly provincial guard unit.” Gendan sniffed, clearly indignant.
“The Kerala Guard is far from lowly, and soon, the regulars will know your true worth, as I do,” Ashinji replied.
Gendan scuffed his boot in the litter of dried leaves and last year’s acorns.
“Thank you, my lord. Means a lot t’hear you say that,” he said.
A liveried servant arrived to escort the group of officers to the manor. As they proceeded across the meadow, now trampled down by the passage of hundreds of boots and hooves, Sadaiyo fell in beside Ashinji. “Why so broody, Little Brother?” he inquired. “Could it be that, like me, you miss the sweet company of your wife?”
Ashinji regarded his brother with surprise. Though he couldn’t discern Sadaiyo’s expression in the darkness, he thought he detected a note of sympathy in his brother’s normally sardonic voice.
“I miss Jelena very much,” he replied, careful to keep his own voice neutral. He didn’t trust Sadaiyo not to use any of his tender emotions against him, and he would never divulge the true reason for his bleak mood.
“Well, a fine meal, good wine, and a willing girl will lift your spirits!” Sadaiyo chuckled. “But, of course, you’d rather sleep alone, outside, on the hard ground.” He laughed again.
Ashinji slowed his pace in order to allow Sadaiyo to walk ahead, determined to avoid his brother’s direct company as much as possible tonight.
When they reached the manor, the lady herself greeted them at the door. Lady Kara was an elderly widow, and still attractive even though age had left its inevitable traces upon her face. A knee-length tunic and wide trousers of fine white cotton enhanced her graceful figure, and she wore her hair in a towering, old-fashioned coiffure. Three middle-aged women flanked her on either side, and by the close resemblances of all their faces, Ashinji deduced they were Lady Kara’s daughters.
“Welcome to Enzan, my lords,” the lady greeted them in a warm, melodious voice, inclining her head. For a moment, Ashinji caught a glimpse of the beautiful young woman she had once been. “My humble home is honored by your presence.”
“Lady Kara, it is we who are honored by your gracious hospitality,” Sadaiyo replied, taking the lady’s hand and pressing it to his lips. Lady Kara smiled, a look of satisfaction on her face, clearly taken in by Sadaiyo’s courtly gesture.
“Please, come inside. I’ve had a meal prepared for all of you. Nothing fancy, mind. We’re simple country folk, after all, but there’s plenty of food and it’s hot.” She turned and led the way into the house, her daughters falling in beside her.
The meal proved to be anything but simple. The long trestle table creaked beneath platters of roasted ducks in citrus sauce, rabbit pie, and tureens of baked trout from the local stream. Pots of boiled fennel root, a fresh salad of greens grown in Lady Kara’s own garden, and baskets of bread complemented the meats, and to wash it all down, several fine varietals produced at the estate’s own winery.
Despite the splendid quality of the food, Ashinji found it impossible to summon up much interest. He ate just enough to avoid offending their hostess, and allowed himself a single goblet of wine, steadfastly refusing any refills.
Two of Lady Kara’s three daughters had managed to position themselves on either side of him, and now gazed at him like hungry cats contemplating a nest of baby mice. Their sister had ensconced herself between Sadaiyo and her mother, where she now conducted a not-so-subtle seduction campaign. Sadaiyo basked in her attentions, clearly enjoying himself.
Ashinji wondered why the three women, despite passable looks and a decent fortune, had yet to find husbands.
“You’ve hardly touched your food, Lord Ashinji. Is it not to your liking?” asked the sister on his left. She regarded him from a heart-shaped face graced with full lips and sparkling blue eyes.
“Everything is delicious, Lady Tamina,” he replied. “I’m just not very hungry.” He lifted his wine goblet to his lips and took a small sip. Tamina leaned in close and the scent of roses caressed Ashinji’s nose.
“You seem sad, my lord. Such a handsome young face should never look so mournful.” She reached up to coquettishly twirl a loose strand of black hair between her thumb and forefinger.
“I miss my wife,” Ashinji replied, and though he tried, he failed to disguise the pain in his voice.
The sister to his right boldly caressed his forearm. “You must love her very much, my lord,” she murmured. “But a wife who is far away can’t keep her husband warm at night, can she? It’s perfectly understandable that a man, even one who loves his wife, would wish to take some comfort where he could… Ease the loneliness of the road.”
“My sister Shuzen is right,” Tamina purred in agreement.
A woman’s throaty laugh momentarily distracted him. Ashinji looked away from Shuzen in time to observe Sadaiyo engage Lady Kara’s oldest daughter in a firm kiss. He turned away in faint disgust, only to be skillfully ambushed by Tamina, who slipped one hand between his knees and grabbed his chin with the other. Boldly, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. He grunted in surprise, and tried to push her away but she held fast. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lady Kara smiling in approval.
“Lady Tamina, please!” Ashinji gasped, after he managed to disengage his lips from hers.
Tamina smiled. “Oh come, now. Why so shy? You’re wife’s not here. You’re free to play, and you can have both of us.”
“Our sister Uebaru gets your brother, of course, because he is the eldest and so is she, but Tamina and I are much better lovers than she is,” Shuzen purred. She tweaked Ashinji’s ear.
This is all too much, he thought. I’ve got to get out of here before I explode!
Ashinji rose from his seat. Conversation halted and all eyes fastened on him. “Lady Kara, I humbly apologize but I’m not feeling very well. I think I should leave now.”
He could see that Lady Kara saw through his feeble excuse, but he didn’t care. For an instant, intense regret and annoyance flashed across her lined face, but she quickly recovered.
“Of course, Lord Ashinji,” she replied, the gracious hostess once more. “I am so sorry you are…indisposed.”
“My lord, d’you want me to come with you?” Gendan asked, half-rising from his seat, a look of concern on his weathered face.
Ashinji shook his head. “No, Captain. Stay and enjoy yourself.”
Neither Tamina nor Shuzen bothered to disguise their anger at being rejected. Both raked him with withering looks, then turned their backs.
Ashinji bowed to Lady Kara and fled the room.
As he escaped out into the crisp, smoke-scented air of the fall night, the sound of renewed revelry followed him, mocking him with unbridled gaiety.
The moon rode high and full, bathing the countryside in quicksilver light. Fine gravel gave way to packed earth as he walked along the path toward the meadow where the army camped. He could hear the sounds of the camp off in the distance-the skirl of a flute, raucous laughter, the neigh of restless horses, voices raised in song. It filled him with intense longing and regret; never had he been more acutely aware of his own mortality than at this moment.
He paused on the moonlit path to drink in the sweet air. Closing his eyes, he visualized Jelena, standing before him, arms raised in love and welcome. In his mind’s eye, he reached out to embrace her.
If only I could hold you one last time, he thought. If only we could share one last kiss…
I could go to my death a happy man.
Sadaiyo returned to camp at sunrise, looking a little haggard, but well pleased. Ashinji had been awake and working for some time already, supervising the distribution of rations to his company.
Sadaiyo sauntered up and greeted him with a cheerful grin. “Good morning, Little Brother. Sleep well?”
“Yes, I did,” Ashinji lied.
“Well, I hate to brag, but I didn’t get much sleep,” Sadaiyo replied. “I didn’t think I could possibly keep up with three…but somehow, I managed to… rise to the occasion.” He chuckled lasciviously. “You know, you really hurt Tamina and Shuzen’s feelings, not to mention Lady Kara’s. You ought to have better manners.” He raised a hand as if to forestall a protest. “But don’t worry! I was able to, ah, smooth their ruffled feathers and sweeten their tempers.”
“Sex has never been a blood sport for me, like it is for you, Brother,” Ashinji retorted. He stared at Sadaiyo with weary eyes, wanting only to be left alone.
“Oh, Lady Kara and her daughters weren’t interested in sport, my naïve little brother. They were deadly serious.” Sadaiyo grinned again.
“What are you talking about?” Ashinji demanded, irritation and fatigue roughening his voice. He hated Sadaiyo’s word and mind games.
“Blood, Ashi. Heirs. In case you didn’t notice, none of Lady Kara’s daughters is exactly in the bloom of youth anymore. Enzan needs heirs or it will pass to the Crown upon the deaths of all the good ladies. I just stepped in and, uh, performed a little service for Lady Kara. With any luck, Enzan can stay in the possession of the family.”
Ashinji stooped to stuff a bag of dried fruit into his saddle bag, unsure of how to respond. That Sadaiyo would do such a thing, without their father’s permission, was outrageous, but not surprising. He looked up at his brother, considered several different replies, discarded them all, then settled for no reply at all.
Sadaiyo prodded Ashinji’s saddle bag with his toe. “Better fill up an extra water bottle. We won’t have time for a lot of stops today.” He strode off. Ashinji watched him go, wondering what Misune would do if she knew. He believed Sadaiyo loved Misune as much as he could love any person other than himself, but Sadaiyo’s idea of love clearly did not involve the concept of fidelity.
Homan trotted up. “Lord Ashinji, the company is ready to ride,” he announced.
“Thank you.” Ashinji stood and stretched the kinks out of his muscles. “Until my brother gives the order to form up, the company can relax,” he said. Homan saluted and headed off in the direction of the horse lines.
The morning sun had just topped the trees, bringing with it the promise of another hot day to come. The trampled grass in the meadow gave off a powerful, pleasant aroma. Bees buzzed in lazy circles among the late wildflowers growing in clumps along the margins. Ashinji retreated to the shade of the stately sentinel oak to wait and think. He leaned back against the rough bark, letting the trunk support his weight.
What little sleep he had gotten last night had been plagued with chaotic dreams. The vision of his death still haunted him, even though he knew no prophetic dream told of what would happen, only of what might happen. He could change his fate, if only he knew which path to take and which ones to avoid.
That’s the difficult part.
Ai, Goddess! You brought Jelena to me, chose me as her protector, and now, you show me my death? How am I to protect my wife if I’m dead? Why, then did you ever bring us together?
Raging to the heavens won’t help, you fool!
The bray of a horn, signaling the army to mount and form up, rang out. Ashinji sighed, pushed away from the tree trunk, and stepped from under the sheltering branches into the brilliant sunshine. He glanced up at the white disk of the sun and wished for the respite of a rainstorm. His brightly lacquered armor felt like an oppressive shell encasing his body, and he longed to strip it off and plunge into the nearest body of water. Even the little algae-filled pond at the bottom of the meadow looked inviting.
Homan walked up, leading Kian. Ashinji climbed into the saddle and Homan handed him his helmet. “I think I’ll ride bareheaded today, Sergeant,” he said. “The company has permission to do the same.”
“Thank you, Cap’n. I’ll pass the word along.”
Ashinji watched as the army coalesced into well-ordered ranks. Off in the distance, in the direction of the manor, he spied a splash of color. He focused his gaze until the splash resolved into the figures of four women, standing at the bottom of the path leading to the house. Sadaiyo, astride his stallion, cantered toward them.
Sadaiyo reined his mount to a skidding halt before Lady Kara and her daughters. He flung himself from the saddle and strode boldly to the first in line, who, by her height, Ashinji could tell must be Uebaru. They exchanged a few words, then Sadaiyo swept her into his arms and kissed her. He proceeded to do the same to Tamina and Shuzen. To Lady Kara, he bowed low and kissed the back of her hand.
What Sadaiyo had done for the Enzan family was not unheard of, but it usually happened only after a contract had been executed between all of the involved parties. Sen would be furious when Sadaiyo got around to telling him.
Sadaiyo remounted his horse, and with a final wave, turned and galloped back to where Ashinji waited along with Homan and Sadaiyo’s aide Lanic. “Let’s go,” he said.
As the army wound its way out of the meadow, the four women of Enzan raised their hands in farewell.
Nine days later, the army crossed into Kerala. They rode straight for the castle, arriving just as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of orange, pink, and red. Iruka, Kerala’s steward, stood waiting at the outer gate to greet them. Ashinji and Sadaiyo dismounted and two stable hands came forward to take hold of their mounts’ bridles.
Sadaiyo spoke first, forgoing any greeting. “Iruka, I know Kerala has no place to billet eight hundred extra troops. What arrangements have you made?”
“Welcome home Lord Sadaiyo, Lord Ashinji. It is good to see you both.” Iruka bowed, his snow-white soldier’s braid falling forward over his shoulder.
“There is room for at least a hundred in the lower yard, and another hundred can camp in the upper,” the steward said. “It’ll be crowded, but that can’t be helped. The rest will have to make do out in the rear pastures. I had ample warning from your father, so there should be enough extra provisions laid by.” Supremely capable, Iruka had served Lord Sen for more years than Ashinji had been alive, and before becoming Kerala’s steward, he had been a sergeant in the army of Keizo the Elder.
“If it please you, my lord Sadaiyo, you may give me your requirements, and any instructions you may have now.”
Sadaiyo turned to Ashinji. “Eagle and Kestrel Companies will camp at the castle. The rest of the army will go out in the pastures, and you’ll ride with them to supervise. When the troops are settled, you may return to the castle.”
“Yes, Brother.” Ashinji’s voice was cool but his eyes burned with anger. Sadaiyo knew full well Ashinji believed in sharing the living conditions of his company while in the field. By relegating the Peregrines to the pastures outside the castle walls, he had compelled Ashinji to join them. While his brother slept in comfort, Ashinji would have the hard ground as his bed.
Sadaiyo betrayed his satisfaction with a tiny smirk; he would never dare to gloat or laugh aloud at his cruelty in front of the troops.
Ashinji remounted Kian. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” He wheeled the black gelding and started back across the bridge to where the army waited, strung out along the far bank of the river like a large, shiny millipede.
“I’ll save your old place at table!” Sadaiyo called out after him.
Three days later, Ashinji sat astride Kian under a hazy yellow sky, staring at a swath of forest in the distance. The force that had left Sendai thirteen days earlier now occupied a position a little to the east of the Saihama River fords, the only place where an army of any size could safely cross the river. Elven scouts had put the Soldaran forces about a day’s march south of the fords.
“We beat them here, Little Brother!” Sadaiyo had crowed triumphantly upon their arrival, and even Ashinji had to admit the hard march out of Sendai had been a wise decision. It had gotten them to Kerala Castle ahead of the enemy, and given the troops some time to rest.
A field of golden-brown grass, waist-high and dried to hay in the relentless sun, stretched in a gentle slope down toward where the trees began. The hay should have been chopped weeks ago, but fear had kept the farmer who worked this land cooped up at home. Ashinji felt a surge of anger, for now, the hay would go to waste.
“We’ll set up camp here and post guards at the fords,” Sadaiyo ordered and his officers, including Ashinji, moved quickly to obey. As he rode Kian through the tinder-dry grass, Ashinji thought about the danger of fire, and the questionable wisdom of Sadaiyo’s decision to make camp in this spot.
I couldn’t disagree with him in front of the troops , he thought. Dissent before the ranks looks very bad…Besides, he’d only ignore me.
He decided to give an order forbidding any cooking fires. The troops would grumble at having to eat cold rations; still, he couldn’t run the risk of a stray spark starting an unintentional blaze that would almost surely lead to disaster.
After he had seen to Kian, he spent some time arranging the postings to the fords, and making certain his order about no fires got disseminated through the camp. Only after he finished his duties would he see to his own needs.
By the time Ashinji could finally sit down and rest, dusk had fallen. Homan had already set up his camp chair and as Ashinji sank into it with a grimace, the sergeant held out a plate and cup. Ashinji took them with a murmured word of thanks. A hunk of cheese, two journeycakes, and a pile of dried berries rested on the plate, and a sip of the mug’s contents confirmed that Homan had fetched some beer from the supply wagons. Ashinji sighed with gratitude and took a bite of cheese.
As he ate, his mind drifted back to his last evening at Kerala Castle, three days past, when he had paid a visit to the home of Gendan and Kami. The couple had invited him to help celebrate both their reunion and the impending birth of their child. Over a special meal prepared by Gendan himself, they had listened as Kami caught them both up on all the latest news and gossip. Though Kami’s pregnancy had progressed without any problems, she had expressed great weariness of her physical state.
“I’m actually looking forward to my labor!” she had claimed. Upon hearing the news of Jelena’s own pregnancy, she had wept with joy, and Ashinji had been genuinely touched at the depth of affection the young guard still felt for his wife.
That evening had been one of peace and friendship, of quiet good cheer and the deliberate banishment of all fear and uncertainty of the future. For a few short, precious hours, Ashinji forgot his anger and grief.
The thud of footfalls and the hail of a sentry broke into Ashinji’s reverie, dragging his mind back into the present.
“Runner’s here, Cap’n,” Homan announced. Ashinji nodded and gestured to the messenger to approach. A slim young woman trotted up and bowed. In her hand, she held a folded piece of paper.
“My lord, I bring orders from the general,” she said, a little out of breath from running.
So, he’s calling himself ‘the general’ now , Ashinji thought. His eyebrow lifted in sardonic amusement. He set his plate and cup on the ground and held out his hand. The girl relinquished the paper, then stood waiting expectantly. Ashinji unfolded the paper and held it up, squinting.
“Here, Cap’n. Don’t strain yourself,” Homan said, raising a lantern over Ashinji’s head so the light could illuminate the message.
“Thanks, Sergeant.” Ashinji read in silence, then looked at Homan and said, “It seems that we are to hold the left flank tomorrow.” He turned his attention to the runner. “No answer,” he said. The girl bowed, then darted off into the darkness.
A ferocious itch developed just below the upper edge of his breastplate, a hair’s width lower than his finger could reach. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the torment. “Goddess’ tits, I wish we didn’t have to sleep in armor tonight!” he grumbled.
“I hear you, my lord,” Homan commiserated. “Best you be turning in soon, after you finish your dinner, o’course. The humans’ll be here and spoilin’ for a fight on the morrow. Your cot’s all made up for you, whenever you’re ready.”
How wonderful it would be if I could just sleep tonight…no dreams of fire and death…just nothingness.
“Thank you, Homan. I think I’ll take your advice, but not until I’ve walked a little.” Ashinji stood and stretched. “I’m feeling a bit restless,” he added.
“What, now, my lord? You’ve not finished your dinner.”
Ashinji shrugged. “Not that hungry, I guess.”
“I’ll walk with you, if you like, Cap’n,” Homan offered.
“No, no. You stay here… finish your own dinner. I’ll not be long, and I won’t go far.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Ashinji set off at a leisurely pace, threading his way between clumps of men and women, some sitting on the ground, others standing or reclining as comfortably as they could on the hard earth.
As he made his way through the darkened camp, he could see no details in the faces around him, but he kept his ears wide open, catching every snippet of conversation. He never paused, preferring to listen as he walked, and what he heard did not surprise him.
The troops were nervous-understandably so-but unafraid, and determined to hold the line against the enemy. The Soldaran Imperial legions were arguably the finest fighting force in the known world, but the army awaiting them across the border in Amsara consisted of local levies, not professional Imperial regulars. The Duke’s force had the advantage in numbers only.
The Alasiri force, in contrast, consisted entirely of professional soldiers, all highly trained and well equipped. Ashinji knew both his father and King Keizo counted on the superior skill of the Alasiri regulars, along with the small contingent of Kerala guards, to offset the disadvantage of their lesser numbers. Despite his own confidence in the abilities of his troops, Ashinji had no illusions. The battle to come would no doubt prove brutal and bloody.
“Halt! Who goes there!” a familiar voice barked from the shadows.
Ashinji stopped in his tracks, realizing he had reached the edge of camp. “It’s just me, Aneko, out for a walk,” he answered.
“My lord!” Aneko exclaimed, materializing out of the darkness. “You shouldn’t be out this far.” She gestured with the tip of her spear toward where the Saihama River ran, chuckling and gurgling over its stony bed. “D’you remember the last time we were out here, my lord?” she asked.
Ashinji couldn’t see her face, but he heard the smile in her voice.
“How could I not remember? I almost killed my future wife that day.”
“You knew it even then, didn’t you, my lord? That you and Jelena were meant to be together?”
“I did,” Ashinji replied. “Although it took a great deal of work on my part before I could convince her.”
Aneko laughed. “Lord Ashinji, Jelena loved you from the very moment she laid eyes on you. She just didn’t believe that someone of your high station could love someone like her… a hikui, I mean. It’s obvious now how wrong she was about you.” Aneko paused, then added “She has been truly blessed by the One.”
Ashinji shook his head. “No. I’m the one who’s been blessed.” He made no attempt to disguise the emotion in his voice. “Aneko,” he continued. “There’s something you must do for me.”
“Anything, my lord,” Aneko replied.
“If…if anything should happen to me…” Ashinji had to stop talking for a moment because his mouth had gone as dry as old bones. Aneko waited in silence for him to continue. He took a deep breath.
“Go to Jelena and tell her I was thinking of her and our child…every waking moment. Tell her that my love never faltered, even as I drew my last breath. Promise you’ll do this for me, Aneko.”
“Lord Ashinji, I promise, but you’ll be able to tell her yourself!” Aneko whispered fiercely. Ashinji sensed her body shifting position in the darkness. “My lord, you must take care, watch your back. Kerala needs you too much. Your father needs you!”
My wife needs me even more, and I can’t be there for her!
“Thank you, Aneko, for being a friend to Jelena,” Ashinji said. “I think I’ll head off to bed now, before I fall down from weariness.” He turned to go.
“Lord Ashinji,” Aneko called softly. Ashinji paused. “I know I speak for most everyone at Kerala when I say that we wish things could be different.”
Though she had chosen her words with care, Ashinji understood the unspoken message behind them. He opened his mouth to reply, but Aneko had slipped away, leaving him alone in the dark of a moonless night, with only his thoughts for company.
Ashinji stood under a vault of glittering stars, surrounded by a sea of rustling, sun-dried grass. An acrid odor tickled his nose and he sneezed. Off in the distance, he heard shouts. The sick sensation of extreme danger streamed through his subconscious mind. A voice howled his name.
Lord Ashinji! My lord, you must wake up!
Ashinji’s eyes flew open and he sat up with a gasp. Homan stumbled backward to avoid a collision with his captain’s head and fell hard on his rump.
“Lord Ashinji!” he croaked, his expression grim. “The meadow’s afire! They’ve set it alight, an’ the entire camp’s in danger!”
“Who, Homan?” Ashinji scrambled to his feet, heart hammering in his chest. He grabbed his sergeant’s hand and hauled the man up.
“The Soldarans, Cap’n! You must hurry!”
Ashinji snatched up his sword and buckled it on, then grabbed his helmet. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that Homan should follow him. “Are they coming, Homan? Are they here?” Ashinji shouted as he and the lanky sergeant made their way through the maelstrom of running bodies toward Sadaiyo’s tent.
“Dunno!” Homan gasped. “Might just be a small party sent ahead to burn us outta this field… Sow confusion amongst us so’s we’d be too exhausted to put up a good fight tomorrow.”
A reasonable deduction , Ashinji thought . If the positions of our respective armies were reversed, I might have suggested just such a tactic myself.
The two of them arrived at Sadaiyo’s tent just as he emerged, shadowed by his aide, Lanic. “Little Brother, it seems the humans have gotten the jump on us,” he said. For once, his voice contained not the slightest trace of condescension. “The meadow has been fired on three sides.” Thick smoke now billowed across the elven encampment in stinging clouds. Ashinji’s eyes filled with tears, and a coughing fit lurked at the back of his throat.
“How did they get past the sentries?” he rasped.
Sadaiyo made an impatient gesture with his hand. “That’s just it. The fire started beyond the picket line. They must have known the flames would burn toward us. Damn it!” he cursed. “Get to your horse and form up your company. I want you to ride down to the fords and station yourself there quick as you can. If there’s to be an attack now, it’ll come from there!”
“Yes, Brother!”
Horns blared all over the camp. Sadaiyo’s other captains arrived. Orders were given, and men and women scattered to carry them out. Ashinji and Homan rushed into the smoky darkness. The sky glowed with the eerie orange light that only a wildfire could produce.
“This way, my lord!” Homan shouted, waving his arms over his head, then pointing in the direction of the horse lines. As they waded through the swirl of bodies, Ashinji felt relieved to see that most of the activity, while frantic, appeared organized. The troops seemed focused, intent on getting themselves and their comrades out of danger.
Shrill neighs alerted them to the uneasy state of the horses. Ashinji quickly spotted Kian, a groom at his head stroking the big black gelding’s nose. Kian’s eyes gleamed like wet stones in the ruddy light of the fire. He appeared nervous, but not yet panicked.
“There, there, my friend!” Ashinji spoke soothing words as he approached the horse. Kian threw his head up and whickered. Ashinji took the lead rope from the groom’s hand. “Bring my saddle and bridle,” he ordered. The groom scampered off, returning quickly with the heavy war saddle in his arms, bridle draped over his shoulder.
While the groom held Kian’s head, Ashinji tacked him up. As he worked, his mind feverishly attacked the problem at hand. The Peregrines would have to ride around the fire line to get to the fords. Once there, he would position them on the Soldaran side of the river, and pray they did not have to hold off the entire human army on their own.
Even so, Sadaiyo has given me an order and I’m duty-bound to carry it out… The Peregrines must hold the fords until Sadaiyo can bring up all our forces!
After checking the girth one last time, Ashinji flung himself onto Kian’s back and snatched up the reins. Homan handed up his helmet and he pulled it on. “Mount up quick as you can and get back to the company. We need to ride out now!” He heard Homan call out “Yes, Cap’n” as he spun Kian around and tapped the warhorse’s flanks with his heels, keeping a firm hold on the reins. He could feel the gelding’s mounting excitement through his legs and hands. The big horse wanted to run, but Ashinji held him down to a brisk walk, unwilling to risk trampling a hapless trooper too slow to get out of the way.
All around, companies were forming up. Sergeants screamed orders and troopers shouted to one another. Bedding and dishes lay discarded on the ground, creating a dangerous jumble for Kian to pick his way through. Smoke and ash filled the air. Ashinji tried to stifle a coughing fit, to no avail. His eyes and nose streamed wetness down his face, but he could not wipe them without stopping to remove his helmet.
At last, the standard of Peregrine Company loomed ahead. A man ran up and skidded to a halt just in front of Kian, causing the gelding to snort and start in surprise. Ashinji recognized Goran, Homan’s immediate subordinate.
“Lord Ashinji,” he gasped, then doubled over in a fit of coughing.
Ashinji waited until he recovered, then asked “Is the company formed up?”
“Yes, my lord,” Goran croaked. “We were awaiting your return.”
“We’re moving out now. Our orders are to get to the fords and hold them.” Ashinji pointed over his shoulder. “Homan is right behind me. When he comes up, tell him to bring the company around to the north. There’s a break in the fire there. I’ll ride ahead to scout.”
“You shouldn’t ride out alone, Captain,” Goran protested. “It’s not safe! There could be humans swarming all over the riverbank by now!”
“I’ll be careful,” Ashinji replied. “If I see anything suspicious, I’ll hold back and wait for the company.” Goran looked unconvinced, but he didn’t dare argue. Instead, he bowed in acknowledgement.
Ashinji clicked his tongue and Kian started forward. He steered toward the northern end of camp, the area farthest from the river.
It soon became clear to Ashinji what the humans must have done. A small party had forged ahead of the main body of the Soldaran force and had crossed the river under cover of darkness. The moon was new, so the only light would have been from the stars, perfect conditions for sneaking close to the elven camp without serious risk of detection.
Once the raiders had come in as close as they dared, they had spread out and fired the tinder-dry meadow simultaneously on three sides. After completing the job, the raiders fled back to the river to make good their escape.
Once Ashinji had broken free of the main body of the army, he spurred Kian into a rolling canter. The gelding snorted and tossed his head; the lather on his neck testified to his nervousness in the face of the fire. Still, he obeyed his master and carried Ashinji willingly enough.
The fire roared and crackled like a living thing as man and horse sought to circle around it. Thick clouds of smoke billowed all around, obscuring Ashinji’s vision, but a momentary thinning allowed him to spot the break in the flames. He turned Kian’s head toward the clear space and urged the horse forward.
Kian whipped past the fire line, hooves throwing up gouts of hot ash. With the flames now behind them, Ashinji steered the gelding to the west and south and gave Kian his head, allowing him to run.
Onward they raced, the red glare of the flames lighting their way. Up ahead lay the dark wall of shadow that marked the tree line along the far bank of the river. On the near side, the bank-rocky and overgrown with thick tussocks of vegetation-dropped sharply to the water. Ashinji pulled back on the reins and sat deep in the saddle, checking Kian down to a walk. The gelding, barely winded, pranced and jigged at the bit, eager to be off again.
Ashinji approached the river with caution, wary of the thickets which might conceal any number of dangers. At this distance from the camp and the fire, he could once again hear the normal noises of the night. Crickets chirped from deep within the tangled growth and cicadas shrilled rhythmically from the trees across the gurgling expanse of water. An owl hooted overhead.
Ashinji brought Kian to a halt and sat very still, listening. With a sigh of frustration, he unbuckled the chinstrap of his helmet and pulled it off. He imagined he could hear Homan scolding him for taking such a risk but he needed a few moments free of the encumbrance of the helmet. A stray night breeze ruffled his hair.
Kian snorted and threw up his head.
“What is it, my friend?” Ashinji whispered. A prickling sensation tickled the back of his neck, and the air grew heavy with menace.
Too late, he realized his peril.
Out of the darkness they rushed, eerily silent. Kian trumpeted in alarm and reared, striking out with his front hooves. Ashinji clung to the saddle, struggling to free his sword from its scabbard, but too many hands pulled at him. Before he could react, they had dragged him to the ground.
Kian whirled and let fly with a vicious kick of his hind legs, scattering their attackers and allowing Ashinji to scramble to his feet and draw his sword. Instinctively, he assumed a defensive stance, his eyes and brain analyzing his situation with the speed of desperation. He cursed himself for a fool.
He faced at least a dozen attackers, all armed, probably one of the raiding parties sent ahead to fire the meadow. For some reason, they had lingered on this side of the river, perhaps to watch what their handiwork had accomplished. Now they had Ashinji surrounded and cut off from escape.
Without warning, Kian let out a shuddering groan and went to his knees. Ashinji gasped as the big horse flopped over on his side and lay quivering. He saw the pale sheen of entrails through a gaping wound in the gelding’s belly, and horrified, he realized Kian, his mount and his friend, had been gutted.
Ashinji swallowed his anger and grief. He had no time for them now, for if he didn’t think of some way to get out of this situation fast, he would soon join Kian in death. He raised his sword and shouted in Soldaran, “There are a hundred fighters hard on my heels! They will be here any moment!”
“This ‘un speaks Soldaran!” one of the humans cried in apparent astonishment.
“Shoot ‘im an’ let’s get outta here!” another voice demanded.
“I hear hoof beats!” cried a third.
Ashinji heard them as well, but it sounded like a lone rider, not Peregrine Company. His heart sank. Who else had been foolish enough to ride out here alone?
Could it be Homan, coming to search for me…? But no, Homan would come with all of Peregrine Company behind him, as ordered. Where are they? Surely they should have been here by now!
The humans all stood frozen, heads cocked like dogs, listening. The hoof beats had stopped.
“Ain’t nuthin’ but yer imagination, Caius,” one of them spat. The others muttered in agreement.
Ashinji’s eyes strained to see into the darkness. He knew he’d heard hoof beats. I’ve got to warn whoever is out there, he thought. “Hoy, soldier! There’s an ambush here! Beware and help me if you can!” he shouted.
The humans flung themselves at him. He managed to dodge the first few blows but a solid swing from a blunt weapon connected with his back plate, knocking him to his knees. Reflexively, he brought his arm up to parry a sword blow.
“No, no! Take ‘im alive!” a harsh voice barked.
Ashinji looked around wildly, seeking any opening that would allow him to live, and caught sight of the unknown horse and rider, standing a spear’s toss away in the darkness. His heart leapt into his throat.
“ Help me! ” he screamed.
No! It can’t be happening! I won’t let it!
The rider shifted a little in the saddle as if trying to get a better view of the unfolding violence. At the same instant, Ashinji caught a glimpse of the rider’s armored chest and the intricate designs lacquered onto its surface. Even in the dim starlight, he recognized the pattern.
“Sadaiyo,” Ashinji whispered.
“ Help me, Brother! ” he screamed again.
A sharp blow to his shoulder, followed by searing pain, cut off his next cry. He looked down to find an arrow sprouting from the narrow, vulnerable space between the edge of his breastplate and his left pauldron.
“Sadaiyo…help,” he gasped, and slumped to the ground.
As he lay bleeding, his body slipping into shock, his mind drifted along the threads of several thoughts. First, he felt admiration for the skill of the human archer, then profound sorrow for all he was about to lose, and finally, bitter hatred for his brother’s betrayal.
“You idiot! I told you I wanted ‘im taken alive!”
Ashinji struggled to raise himself off the ground so he could face his slayers with some semblance of dignity.
The humans closed in, weapons raised; intent as they were on killing him, none of them had spotted Sadaiyo. Through a gap between two of his attackers, Ashinji watched Sadaiyo wheel his horse and lash the animal’s flank with the quirt-end of his reins. The horse snorted and sprang away, disappearing into the dark.
Ashinji choked back a sob and forced his face to settle into a calm, expressionless mask, determined to meet his death with bravery.
I’m so sorry, Jelena my love ! I tried to survive for you…and for our child. I guess it’s no longer up to me to be your protector. I’ll see you again, when we are reunited in the loving embrace of the One.
The humans had formed a tight circle around him, looking down on their victim.
“Hurry up and do it!” Ashinji snarled in Soldaran.
A man stepped forward, raised the butt of his sword and swung downward. Ashinji’s head exploded in pain and his mind dropped away into oblivion.
“Hmmm. You are asking for a very difficult manipulation, my lord. Very tricky.”
“Can you do it, old man?”
“Yeeees…I can…but…”
“The memory must be completely erased and replaced by a new one, and the tampering must be undetectable.”
“Memories cannot be erased, young man. They can, however, be walled away behind barriers and made inaccessible to the conscious mind.”
“Can you render the barrier itself invisible, so that even a high-level mage can’t detect it?”
“Depends on how high.”
“The highest. A Kirian.”
“Oh, my. That is high… I can disguise the barrier, make it look like part of the background, so to speak. It will for all intents and purposes be invisible to all but the deepest probe, but if this Kirian you wish to hide from knows what to look for, it won’t remain hidden very long.”
“What about the replacement memory? Will it feel authentic?”
“Oh, yes. You, yourself will believe it to be true, and so will anyone casually scanning you. I must warn you, though, there is a chance, especially as time goes by, that the barrier will eventually break down and allow the genuine memory to reemerge.”
“Yes, well…I don’t care. I need only hide it for awhile. So, mage. We come to the last detail. Name your price.”
“I can ask for no less than thirty gold, my lord.”
“Thirty…! My entire monthly allowance is only twenty!”
“Nevertheless, that is my price, young man.”
“Goddess’ tits! If my life didn’t depend on this…Very well. Thirty gold. Do I need to count it out for you?”
“Oh, no, my lord. I trust you. Now, I’ll just put this away and you lie back and make yourself comfortable…”
Sadaiyo emerged from the mage’s cottage, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief. He had come to the old man’s home on the advice of Lanic, seeking respite from the tormenting guilt of witnessing Ashinji’s death at the hands of a human raiding party, nearly three weeks ago.
The mage had helped Lanic in the past with some painful memories; for a reasonable sum, the old man entered a person’s mind, softened the edges, removed the hurt, and soothed the guilt, thus allowing acceptance and healing.
Now, Sadaiyo could begin the process of forgiving himself.
As he rode back to Kerala Castle beneath a sky heavy with storm clouds, he thought of the last moments of Ashinji’s life-he’d tried so hard to reach his brother, but the humans had rushed him and beaten him back.
There were just too many of them! I tried, Ashi, I really did…but by the time I could get a few arrow shots off, they’d already cut you down. I couldn’t even retrieve your body…they dragged you away across the river. Ai, Goddess! How will I tell our parents? How will I tell your wife?
A cold drizzle pattered down from above, and Sadaiyo pulled the collar of his heavy, fur-lined cloak close around his neck. Tomorrow, he, along with a small contingent of troops, would leave Kerala and head back to Sendai to report on the actions at the border.
Within the last week, the weather had turned, and with the first frost, the Soldaran army had withdrawn to Amsara Castle. The bulk of the elven force that had marched out from the capital would remain in Kerala to serve as a deterrent against further incursions, but no one expected the humans to return before spring. Winter had brought an end to all military operations.
I’ll be glad to get back to Misune , Sadaiyo thought. He spurred his horse and the stallion sprang into a gallop, throwing up clods of mud with each stride.
The old mage hunkered down by his fireplace, savoring the heat of the flames. In his wrinkled hands, he held a small glass sphere. The sphere glowed with a soft white light, like a large, illuminated pearl.
Good thing I thought to make a copy of this memory, he thought as he rolled the sphere gently between his palms. Never know when it might come in handy. Always prudent to keep a little insurance.
The old man chuckled and began recounting his coins.
Eight weeks after Sadaiyo led his army out of Sendai, a small contingent returned to the city. A messenger arrived midmorning, sent ahead with news of the expedition’s success. The human army had withdrawn to Soldaran territory, and Sadaiyo had left behind the bulk of his forces to guard the border. They would remain encamped around Kerala Castle for the entire winter and into the spring. The loss of their numbers would no doubt prove a serious blow to the defense of the Tono Valley, but the elves dared not leave their vulnerable southeastern flank unprotected.
Jelena heard the news as she finished her morning routine, assisted by Eikko, the hikui servant girl whom she had met soon after her arrival in Sendai. Eikko’s duties had gradually shifted as she and Jelena had become better acquainted. Now, instead of helping Lady Amara with the twins, the young servant spent most of her time as a companion to Jelena.
A note, delivered from her father, informed Jelena of the company’s imminent arrival. Brimming with excitement, she threw on her clothes and hurried down to the parade ground.
The weather had grown much cooler in the weeks since the army had left, and today, a chilly wind numbed Jelena’s cheeks as she exited the castle’s main entrance. Eikko, who followed dutifully after, clucked in dismay. She shook out the heavy woolen cloak she carried and flung it around Jelena’s shoulders.
Jelena murmured her thanks and pulled the warm folds close about her body, shivering a little from both excitement and apprehension.
For the last few days, she had been unable to shake the feeling that all was not as it should be with Ashinji. She could not lay her finger on it; no unusual dreams disturbed her sleep nor had she any flashes of prescience. Nevertheless, she felt unsettled and out of sorts.
Part of it, she knew, could be attributed to her advancing pregnancy. The child had grown quite active in recent weeks. Perversely, she-Jelena’s doctor had informed her that she carried a girl-seemed most energetic at night, when her mother wanted to sleep.
“Your Highness, you really shouldn’t wait out here in this wind,” Eikko admonished. “It’s too cold. I know you want to be here to greet Captain Sakehera, but he won’t arrive for a while yet.” The hikui maid tugged gently on Jelena’s sleeve, a liberty she never would have taken with an okui mistress. “Come back inside,” she coaxed.
Jelena pursed her lips in irritation and snapped, “Stop fussing, Eikko!” Immediately, she regretted her ill temper . Eikko is only concerned for my well-being and that of my daughter, she thought. Chagrined, she apologized. “I’m sorry, Eikko. I didn’t mean to be cross with you…I miss my husband so much and I want to be right here when he rides in.”
“‘Course you do, Highness,” Eikko replied. “I understand.” She flashed a quick smile.
“We’ll wait just inside the door.” Jelena waved toward the castle’s entrance. “There’s a bench we can sit on.” Eikko nodded and the two young women retreated out of the chill wind into the relative warmth of the entrance hall, where they settled on the bench to wait.
They sat for a time in comfortable silence. Jelena tried to relieve her anxiety by practicing the meditation taught to her by Princess Taya. In recent weeks, the Kirians had stepped up her training, and Jelena was now proficient in many of the basics. She could mindspeak with ease, perform a simple surface scan on another person, and maintain a shield against unwanted mental intrusions by any non-mage-trained attacker. Her swift progress had surprised her.
Jelena’s dreams of learning to control her Talent, and more specifically, the blue energy the Kirians referred to as the Key were being realized, but she now found herself in a strange and tense situation. Jelena had known for some time that Taya and Sonoe were, if not outright enemies, then rivals, for sure, and each one believed she knew best how to conduct Jelena’s training. Consequently, they often clashed, and only the moderating presence of Amara kept a lid on things.
Ever since spotting Sonoe standing below her bedroom window, Jelena had felt uneasy in the presence of her father’s Companion. The red-haired sorceress had offered no explanation for her behavior; in fact, she had said nothing at all about the incident. Soon afterward, however, Sonoe had become very solicitous towards Jelena, going out of her way to offer gestures of friendship. She did seem genuinely interested in Jelena in a sisterly way so, in time, Jelena’s unease abated. Lately, she found herself more and more in Sonoe’s company. It felt good to have the friendship of an older, more experienced woman.
“Are you warm enough, my lady?” Eikko inquired, breaking the silence and recapturing Jelena’s attentiton.
“Uh…Yes, Eikko, thank you.” Jelena turned to gaze with speculation at the hikui maid. “Eikko, do you have any Talent?” she asked.
Caught off-guard by the question, the other girl stammered, “I…I don’t know, Princess…I mean…I’ve never thought about it.” She shrugged her plump shoulders. “I s’pose I must have, at least a little. Our elven blood gives us all a touch. Both my parents, though, are hikui, as were their parents, so it’s been a few generations since there’ve been any purebloods in my family tree. I suspect most of the Talent’s been lost in us.” She regarded Jelena with a puzzled expression. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking, would you want to know?”
“I’m curious, I guess. There must be some hikui who have strong Talent,” Jelena mused.
“If they dared show themselves, you can bet the okui wouldn’t allow them to use their abilities. They might even be killed.”
“You can’t mean that, Eikko! There’re laws against murder. Even the hikui are granted that protection.”
Eikko snorted. “There’re laws for okui and laws for hikui, Princess. Surely you know that by now.”
Jelena sighed, realizing the futility in arguing the point; besides, Eikko’s frank statement contained an undeniable kernel of truth. “I’ve been working hard on my father, Eikko, to get him to see the injustice of having a different set of laws for hikui,” she said. “The good news is that he is listening to me. How could he not? I’m hikui and his daughter.”
Eikko looked dubious. “Begging your pardon, Highness, but okui folk have lorded it over us since…well, since always! It’ll take nothing less than a miracle to change ‘em.”
“Then get ready for a miracle, Eikko, because it’s going to happen. I’m determined,” Jelena replied.
The heavy main entrance doors of the castle stood ajar. From somewhere outside, faint shouts drifted in on a chilly breeze that swirled around Jelena’s toes. She shivered and pulled her cloak more closely around her. An instant later, a messenger burst though the doors and pelted across the broad hallway to the sweep of the staircase, heading up toward the king’s private quarters.
Jelena sprang to her feet. “They’re here! Ashinji’s home!” she cried and rushed out into the cold, Eikko hard on her heels. The wind whipped back the cloak from her body and snapped loose coils of hair about her face as she stood gazing out across the parade ground toward the upper gates of the castle. The strange apprehension building within her crested until she now shook with anxiety.
Where are you, Ashi?
“Daughter, I see you’re already here.”
Jelena spun around to see the king descending the broad steps, Sen and Prince Raidan flanking him on either side. Sonoe, resplendent in a green velvet cloak lined with fox fur, followed Keizo. Jelena ran to her father and clung to him, on the verge of tears.
Keizo looked startled, then concerned. He folded his arms around Jelena and asked “What’s all this now, child? Why are you in such a state?”
Jelena looked into her father’s winter-grey eyes.
“I…I can’t explain, Father. I just feel like something’s terribly wrong with Ashi. I’ve felt this way for a while now.” She shook her head in irritation, angry with herself for her emotional weakness. She pulled away from Keizo’s embrace and drew herself up straight. “I’m being silly,” she stated. “Ashi is well and he’s riding home to me.”
“’Course he is, my dear,” Sen chimed in. “If anything had happened to him…to either of my sons, I’m sure we’d have heard already.” He looked back over his shoulder and muttered, “Hmm. I wonder where Amara and Misune are?”
“Misune is not feeling well, Father-in-law, and Mother stayed behind with her,” Jelena explained. “She’s had such a hard time, you know.”
Despite Misune’s excellent health, her pregnancy had not gone well, and she often could not rise from bed. Jelena actually felt sorry for her. She and Misune would never warm to each other, but of late, they had arrived at a peaceful coexistence, due, Jelena felt, to their shared condition.
“You’re right, of course,” Sen replied. “We men can be incredibly insensitive at times.” He scratched his head, looking a little sheepish.
“Oh! I think I see them!” Eikko burst out, then covered her mouth with her hand and shrank back behind Jelena.
“Yes, here they come,” Raidan confirmed, glancing at the hikui girl with a frown.
Jelena ran down the last steps to stand on the cold gravel of the parade ground, ignoring the chill seeping through the thin leather soles of her slippers. She focused her entire attention on the company of riders, just coming into view.
Three riders detached themselves from the vanguard and galloped ahead, sliding to a stop before Jelena, the hooves of their mounts spitting gravel. Sadaiyo, in his distinctive black-lacquered armor, dismounted first. He handed over the reins of his horse to the man on his right and approached Jelena. Something in the way he carried himself set off a wave of fear that rushed from her head down to her toes and back again, leaving her dizzy and a little sick.
Ashinji isn’t with him!
Sadaiyo halted in front of her and pulled off his helmet.
“Where is my husband?” Jelena demanded.
Sadaiyo’s eyes flicked to her face, then away. He shifted his gaze past her right shoulder, then bowed low.
“Lord Sadaiyo, you have returned safely and with success. I congratulate you and offer you the profound gratitude of our people.” Keizo had come up behind Jelena, and now rested a hand upon her shoulder.
“Thank you, Majesty,” Sadaiyo murmured. Jelena glared at him, willing him to look at her, but his eyes once again skipped over her face to focus on his father, who had come to stand at Jelena’s left.
The terrible pressure built up within her gave way.
“ Where…is he? ” she screamed. Eikko gasped in dismay, and Keizo squeezed her shoulder hard, as if to steady her.
“Father…Sister-in-law,” Sadaiyo began. The clatter of dozens of hooves rang in the air around them as Sadaiyo’s company fell in behind him in orderly ranks. Still refusing to meet Jelena’s eyes, he continued. “We were caught by surprise while encamped at the Saihama fords. The humans sent several small raiding parties ahead to set fire to the meadow where the army lay sleeping. My brother rode out-alone-toward the river to scout, according to his sergeant.” Sadaiyo looked over his shoulder and indicated with a lift of his chin a man with the insignia of Peregrine Company on his tabard.
He paused, as if to gather his thoughts. “When I heard where he had gone, I knew Ashinji was in terrible danger, so I immediately rode after him,” Sadaiyo continued. “I did find him…but…” His voice faltered and his eyes swiveled downward.
“But what, Son? Please, tell us!” Sen’s voice shook.
Sadaiyo raised his head and addressed his father. “Ashinji had been ambushed by one of the raiding parties. By the time I got there, they had already dragged him off his horse. I saw them… hacking at him. He tried to defend himself, but there were just too many. I got off a few arrow shots before…before they saw me and started firing back. Ashi wasn’t moving; I knew he was dead. I tried to get to him…I really did! I couldn’t even retrieve his body because…because they tied a rope to him and dragged him away across the river… I’m so sorry Father!” Sadaiyo lapsed into silence.
Jelena threw back her head and wailed.
Ashi is dead? No, that can’t be true!
Her knees buckled, and she fell backward into the arms of her father.
“Are you absolutely sure that my son-in-law is dead?” she heard Keizo cry.
“My child…my son!” Sen moaned in anguish.
Rage, like a white-hot star, flared to life within Jelena. She struggled to her feet, then, without warning, launched herself at Sadaiyo, screaming, “ You’re lying! You did this! You killed him! ” She swung a vicious punch at Sadaiyo’s face, snapping his head back with the force of the blow. His nose exploded in a spray of blood. Cursing, he clapped his hands over his face and staggered backward, gore leaking through his entwined fingers.
Strong hands seized Jelena’s arms from behind and pinned them to her sides. Everyone shouted at once, a crazy babble of voices. Jelena screamed again. “ I know you did this! I swear I’ll make you pay! ” Her eyes burned dry and hot. The terrible rage within her had boiled all her tears away before they could form. Within her womb, Jelena’s daughter began to kick frantically, as if she understood the awful tragedy that had befallen her and her mother.
Without warning, blue flame erupted in a brilliant geyser of energy from the tips of Jelena’s fingers, blasting the gravel at her feet and causing those that held her to fall back in consternation. Her vision narrowed down to a dark tunnel with Sadaiyo’s face staring at her, open mouthed, from the far end. Slowly, she raised her hands and stretched them toward Ashinji’s murderer.
“Jelena, stop this now!” a voice cried.
Blinking in confusion, Jelena came back into herself to find Sonoe standing in front of her, blocking her view of Sadaiyo and preventing her from flinging the lethal energy that crackled from her fingertips.
“Jelena,” Sonoe whispered. “I can’t allow you to do this. You’ll destroy yourself as well as him.”
The blue fire sputtered and died. Jelena’s hands fell to her sides and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
Gods, what did I almost do? Her entire body trembled.
“I want to see my wife,” Sadaiyo mumbled through his bloody fingers.
Jelena turned and collapsed into Keizo’s arms.
“Jelena, my sweet child,” the king murmured. “I know the agony you feel right now, but surely… Ashinji was Sadaiyo’s brother! It’s unthinkable he could have had a hand in your husband’s death. I’m certain what he says is true.”
Jelena shook her head. “No, Father…He’s lying…I know it! Sadaiyo hates Ashi… He always has!” She threw a wild look at Sonoe. “Truthread him!” she wailed. “Please, Sonoe! Do it now!”
Sonoe’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I cannot, Jelena. It’s…it’s not proper for me to enter the mind of a nobleman uninvited.”
Jelena pounded her fists against Keizo’s chest. “Help… help me!” she moaned. Her entire world had just collapsed and she felt herself sliding down into the madness of overwhelming grief.
A thick silence had settled over the parade ground. Those troopers in the front ranks witnessing the drama as it unfolded stood still as statues.
“Lord Sadaiyo, I want a full report as soon as you can make it,” Prince Raidan spoke up.
“Yes, Highness,” Sadaiyo replied. He sniffed loudly and wiped his dripping nose with a cloth. “I ask permission to dismiss the troops, your Majesty.”
“Granted,” Keizo said. Sadaiyo turned to the two men behind him and gave the order.
Jelena closed her eyes and tried to retreat to the still point in her mind Taya had shown her, the spot of refuge and peace, but no peace or solace for her pain awaited her there. Ashinji, her husband and soul-mate, the father of her child, was dead and lost to her.
How will I survive?
“Come, Daughter. Let me take you inside, out of the cold. It’s not good for you or the baby.” With gentleness, Keizo took her by the arm and led her toward the castle doorway. Eikko, weeping piteously, followed a few steps behind. Jelena allowed herself to be led, unresisting. She didn’t care where she went; nothing mattered any more.
As she passed through the massive portals of the castle, she paused once to look over her shoulder, in the vain hope that Sadaiyo’s news was a horrible mistake and she would see Ashinji galloping across the parade ground on his horse Kian, alive and whole.
Instead, she saw Sen, his face contorted by grief, the agony of his loss like a gaping wound. He stood before Sadaiyo, eyes closed and hands clenched into fists, looking as though he would shatter at any moment. Sadaiyo laid a hand on his father’s arm, but Sen flinched away, as if he found the touch of his surviving son too painful to endure. Shoulders slumped, Sadaiyo turned and walked away, leaving his father standing alone, inconsolable.
We both loved him almost too much , Jelena thought, and then all thoughts ceased, leaving her mind enveloped in cold, bleak despair.
Now is the time to strike, when she is most vulnerable!
“No, Master, not now! She is too well protected. Taya has her wrapped about with so many wards, I can barely sense her anymore.”
Sonoe stood at the center of the Summoning Sigil etched into the floor of her cellar work room, the Nameless One floating before her like a miniature storm cloud.
She twirled a lock of hair around her forefinger, then flung it away in frustration. “I’ve tried breaking through, but they’re just too strong and well-crafted.”
A surge of energy-blue-black and deadly cold-lanced out from the spectral form and struck Sonoe between the eyes. Agonizing pain tore through her skull. She screamed and fell to the hard-packed earth, writhing and clutching her head.
Your efforts have been pathetically weak so far! I am beginning to regret my choice of you as a tool. You are proving yourself to be unequal to the task, woman.
“No, no!” Sonoe gasped. She levered her body up into a submissive crouch, hands still pressed to her throbbing skull, and gazed through narrowed eyes at the entity she had chosen to serve. “I am equal… more than equal, I swear! I am making good progress with her; she considers me her friend. She trusts me. If I move too fast I will arouse too much…suspicion…Ai, Goddess!”
The pain ceased, and Sonoe moaned in relief. She wrapped her arms around her body to stop it from shivering. Several of her warding candles had sputtered out; she re-ignited them with a wave of her hand.
I am growing impatient. Every moment you delay, each hour that passes without the Key in my possession…my enemies gain that much more time to gather their strength and plan their opposition. The nebulous entity twisted slowly in on itself, then extended a tendril, snake-like, to loop around Sonoe’s body, caressing her as gently as a lover. A second tendril wrapped around her neck and began to squeeze.
The sudden increase in pressure around her throat cut off Sonoe’s cry of alarm. Her thoughts swung wildly from pleas to curses and back again as darkness blurred the edges of her vision. She struggled, to no avail. The Nameless One held her fast in a grip as solid and cold as iron.
Just as quickly as he had struck, he released her. She slumped onto her back, choking and gulping for air.
A reminder of my strength, which grows as each day passes. I am still not strong enough to break free completely, but the chains my enemies imprisoned me with so long ago are weakening.
Sonoe sat up, rubbing her neck. Cautiously, she climbed to her feet, her eyes never leaving the slowly writhing spirit-form-the only manifestation the Nameless One could manage at present. Despite his apparent fragility, he nevertheless still posed a deadly threat, as he had so effectively demonstrated.
“I need more time to find a way around Taya’s protections,” Sonoe said. “Taya is not the only one shielding the girl. The king himself is using some of his Talent to block access to her, although he is unaware on a conscious level of what he is doing. Also, I can’t work openly. I must move with stealth or I’ll be discovered.”
The Nameless One lashed out again but this time, Sonoe was ready. The energy washed harmlessly around her, blocked by her own protective shields. A wave of pure hate-putrid and corrosive-flowed from the entity like poison from a festering wound.
Sonoe choked back the bile rising in the back of her throat. “Master… please !” she gasped. The Nameless One withdrew in on himself and hovered, a dense ball of smoke. Sonoe stood waiting, tense and wary as a lioness confronting a thunder lizard. She could sense his strength waning. Soon, he would be forced to sever their link and retreat to his prison. She felt a flash of annoyance.
He’s like a petulant child…one with enough power to destroy my mind if I’m not constantly on guard!
“Master,” she cajoled. “Jelena trusts me. Now that her husband’s dead, she will reach out to me even more. I shall be there for her like the loving older sister she never had. The closer we become, the easier it will be for me to find a way to break down the wards that guard the Key.”
Very well. Do what you must. The voice in her head sounded faint and hollow. I grow weary and must rest.
In the heavily guarded place in her mind where Sonoe sequestered all thoughts she didn’t want the Nameless One to know, she indulged in a mental sneer.
He’s squandered most of his energy lashing out at me. As painful as that was, it’s far better than what he usually does.
Sonoe was a proud woman, accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed. She would never consider herself a slave, and she suffered all the indignities the Nameless One heaped upon her for one reason only.
Power.
Sonoe had a plan-a secret strategy she kept hidden away behind mental shields that not even the Nameless One could pierce . Let him use me now, she thought , but when I’m ready, the tables will be turned and the master becomes the slave. The power of the Key was too seductive, too all-encompassing. She could not allow the corrupt spirit of a long-dead sorcerer king to wield it for his own twisted purpose.
Sonoe had determined to take the power for herself and rule the known world as its benevolent queen.
But I will rule alone.
“Go and rest, Master,” she said, her voice softened with just the right amount of servile sweetness. “I will contact you later.”
The spirit formed no words in her mind, but Sonoe felt him fuming at his own weakness. She waited as his essence drained away, like dirty water sluicing down a gutter, then heaved a sigh of relief and rubbed at her bruised neck.
Poor Jelena, she thought . I must go to her at once.
A wave of genuine sadness washed over her, catching the young mage by surprise. Fiercely, she shook it off.
You’re getting soft, Sonoe! Stay focused, she chided herself. After extinguishing all the candles with a finger snap, she left her work room to the dark and the spiders.