CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE STREETS OF FUYYU

That night, I dreamed of Thanh walking towards me with blood pouring like rivers down his face, his skin as white as snow. I woke up before I could reach him, grappling in the dark with a mouth that tasted like cotton. I spat to the side and tried to drown out the image with the thought that my son was still alive. He had to be. If anything had happened to him, they would’ve trumpeted the news from every corner of the nation.

Why did I think I could save him by myself? The terror was a cold hand around my throat, choking me senseless. Alone with my thoughts, I could almost admit that I wasn’t sure what I would do once I returned to Oren-yaro. The survival of Thanh the boy seemed all but impossible between my husband and my own people’s treachery. My eyes wandered over to the dagger beside the mattress and briefly considered if my own death would solve anything. Without me as the prize, Yuebek’s claims would fall on deaf ears. Without me to blame, wouldn’t Rayyel show mercy to the boy? He would be free to marry anyone, Chiha even. Perhaps he might even be generous enough to let Agos take Thanh away from court.

The temptation was strong. I picked the dagger up, running my hand over the length of it before I slid it out of its sheath. The sharp edge glinted in the dark with a sort of predatory smile.

I was Yeshin’s daughter. The thought of death didn’t scare me. My father had threatened suicide in front of his lords and officials before, the few times he didn’t get exactly what he wanted out of them. I had already given birth—I figured the pain would be similar, though probably not as far-reaching. It certainly wouldn’t hurt half as much as losing my son.

There were two gentle knocks at the door. I froze, dropping the dagger with a flush of shame. “We’re ready to go, Tali,” Khine called out.

I glanced at the window, noticed that the sky was grey. Dawn. “Yes,” I managed to croak out. “I’ll join you shortly.” Shaking my head, I got up and returned the dagger to its sheath. The promise of sunlight brought a glimmer of hope. I didn’t really want to kill myself. I wanted to see my son grow up—I wanted to hear his laughter again so badly that it hurt just to think about it.

But to have slipped so far that every step I took felt like a mistake, like I was sinking deeper into the mud, was not a good feeling. That the thought of rejecting my father’s upbringing came with the rejection of the nation itself didn’t seem like a coincidence. I was a dead woman walking. Was a dead woman worth risking my son’s life for? It wasn’t even much of a question.

I got dressed and followed the path out of the riverside hut. The fog had lifted, revealing much of the village that I hadn’t seen the day before. It wasn’t much more than a handful of small houses, separated by bamboo fences. The smell of chicken and pig droppings pervaded the air. Off in the distance, I spotted a log mill, the only structure of noticeable size in the vicinity.

I strode up to the mill and watched as the men pulled logs from a barge with a pulley and dropped them into a chute that led straight to a rusty circular saw. A man with a towel around his neck stepped out of the mill to wipe his face. He was shirtless, with a rotund belly that spilled over his trousers.

“Where do you deliver these?” I asked, pointing at the wrapped piles of sawed logs gathered on a platform a few paces away.

He turned to me and gruffly said, “Those in particular?”

I gave a small shrug.

“They’re going to a builder outside of Fuyyu. Special order by his client—man wanted narra wood all throughout his house. Rich folks.” He rubbed his moustache and sniffed to show exactly what he thought about such extravagance. I felt a pang of embarrassment—Oka Shto was decked with the beautiful red wood from top to bottom.

“May I ask about your delivery schedule?” I gave him the sweetest smile I possibly could.

He glanced back at his men for a moment before nodding curtly.

“We’re travellers,” I continued. “If you can bring us all the way to Fuyyu, I’ll make it worth your while. There’s three others with me.”

He stared for a second. “You a royal?”

“No,” I said quickly.

“You sound like a royal.”

“How does one sound like a royal?”

“Like that.” He sniffed. “And royals ask things like that all the time. Don’t stop to think about what my boss will think.”

“What will he think?” I asked.

The man paused for a second, scratching his belly while he thought. “Well, I don’t know. He ain’t here, so…”

“I’ve found us a ride,” I told the others as soon as we met back in the village square. “They’ve got a delivery of lumber ready to go. It’ll only cost us—oh, about a couple hundred aekich.”

“We don’t even have ten left.” Khine patted his pockets to emphasize his words. “Maybe if you gave me a bit of time to find someone to pilfer from…”

“Begging for transportation. Stealing. How far have we sunk?” Agos grumbled, a basket of rice cakes in his arms. I took one from him. Unwrapping the banana leaf covering revealed a flat, purple cake frosted with dried coconut and brown sugar. I hadn’t eaten one of those in so long and I had to stop myself from cramming all of it into my mouth.

“And it’s not like we can leave someone behind to work it all off,” Khine said as we walked back to the mill. “Although if we have to, if we really have to, I think Agos would be happy to volunteer.”

“I was about to say the same thing about you, Lamang,” Agos growled. “They’d prefer you. You’re fresh. Exotic.”

“No, no, I do think they’d probably like someone more seasoned.”

“Did you just call me old?”

“I did no such thing.”

“Maybe you’d like me to even out that cut on your head. Give you another.”

“I was praising you, you big lump,” Khine said in exasperation. We reached the mill, and he came up to the foreman with a big grin. “My dear man,” he continued, patting him on the shoulder as if they had been friends forever. “I want to give you my most heartfelt thanks in allowing us to secure your carriage for transportation.”

The foreman grinned. “Er, it was my…pleasure?”

Khine squeezed his arm. “If you must know,” he said, lowering his voice to barely a whisper, “my lady here is on a secret errand. For her to ask your help at all is a great honour.”

“Are you a foreigner?”

“We both are,” he said. “Officials from the Empire of Ziri-nar-Orxiaro, sent by the Esteemed Emperor’s Fifth Son, Prince Yuebek, himself.”

It took a great deal of restraint for me not to choke on the rice cake. “Indeed,” I said, after I swallowed the last of it down. “I wasn’t truthful earlier because—well, you can understand why. Your assistance, you know, will be seen as a great thing by the Zarojo Empire.” I dropped a few Zirano words into my speech.

The man narrowed his eyes. “So you mean I’m not getting paid now,” he said.

I smiled. “Not immediately.”

“So no.”

“My good man—” I reached for his other arm. Both Khine and I were clinging to him now. “Let’s not make hasty judgments. It’s not every day that an opportunity like this presents itself.”

“Aren’t we at war with your empire?”

“We are most certainly not at war with Jin-Sayeng,” I said firmly. “If you must know, it is more than that.”

“Indeed. Do you know that Queen Talyien will be marrying Prince Yuebek soon?”

I wanted to punch Khine in the face. Instead, I smiled even more, so much that my lips felt stretched out. “It’s a big secret. You know how the queen has been having problems with her husband, Lord what’s-his-face…”

“Lord Raiju,” Agos said.

“Raikar,” Khine corrected.

“Raijel,” Cho chimed in, catching on to the joke.

The man cleared his throat. “Prince Yuebek,” he repeated. “I think I’ve heard that name before. Funny I’m hearing it again.”

The smile fell from my face. “You have?”

“Years and years back, when I was still a young man, some foreigners hitched a ride on the barge up to Yu-yan. Didn’t mention anything about him marrying the queen, but one did brag about preparing Yuebek’s kingdom for him. Laughed about it, too, like he wasn’t even taking it seriously.” He sniffed. “Just get in the wagon and try not to get into trouble.” He stepped away from us quickly, looking like someone who had been badgered into something against his will. He returned to the building, grumbling under his breath.

“Must be those Zarojo mages,” Khine said as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Not a stretch that Yuebek is behind them. But what would they mean by preparing Yuebek’s kingdom? They came out here to assist the Anyus with the dragons. Not that the Warlord Ojika even wanted their help in the first place. Eikaro told me that his father’s hand was forced under threat of…” I trailed off as a thought clicked solidly into place. Yeshin knew Eikaro’s secret. Did he hand that knowledge over to Yuebek? What for?

I took a deep breath. No—I couldn’t kill myself, not now. I needed to see my son safe, and my death would do nothing to protect him from my dead father, my husband, and Yuebek combined. Their plans had permeated the land, right down into its very crevices, and if I wanted to discover them, I needed to return to where it all began: back home to Oren-yaro, where my betrayers waited for me with open arms.

The transport wagon was drawn by four water buffalo—large, hefty creatures with enough strength to carry lumber down the rough southern road. One pressed its wet nose on my arm as we passed by, and I obliged by tickling it under the muzzle. As it stretched under my fingers, Khine laughed. “Do you remember the rok haize figurine you bought from that first shopkeeper we tricked?” he asked.

“Yes. I have it in my pack somewhere.”

“It feels so long ago,” Khine mused. We followed Agos onto the lumber pile, seating ourselves on the top of the sawn logs. It was the sort of dangerous arrangement that would’ve had Arro frothing at the mouth. I could hear his voice now, begging me to use my head, to please consider the consequences of my actions.

Ah, but Arro, I thought. Did you know you would be killed in a private dining room half a world away? I gazed out at the horizon as the drivers yelled at the beasts and we began to inch slowly along the road.

It was late at night when the workmen finally let us off at the main road about an hour’s walk from Fuyyu. The stars and the moon had appeared, a blue haze over them. Tiny bats flitted over the trees.

Khine took a deep breath. “I can already smell the city.”

I sniffed. There was a slight acrid tinge in the air. “They’ve got tanning factories at the outskirts,” I explained. “The Kags prefer leather over woolen cloaks in the winter.”

“How harsh are your winters here?”

“More rain than snow around these parts. In Oren-yaro, we get a few days of snow every year—still not as much compared with the regions near the mountains—the Ikessar lands, in particular. That’s why they say the Ikessars took to studying and reading so much. Long winters, nothing else to do.”

“How did the Ikessars come to power, anyway? You’ve painted them as a people entirely different from the rest of you. Without a sizeable army like the rest, what got them to where they are now?”

“Ah, a history lesson,” I said brightly. “Agos, cover your ears.”

Agos made a choking sound.

“You’ve seen what Rai was able to do in a matter of days,” I continued.

“I find it hard to believe it had anything to do with his charm or…anything to do with him, really. Not that I don’t like the guy, mind you—”

“Wait,” I said. “You like Rayyel?”

“He’s interesting. I’ve met worse fellows.”

“You’re an idiot, Lamang.”

“And you were telling me a story. Let’s not veer off course here.”

I sighed. “Rai is reaping the benefit of hundreds of years of work by his ancestors. Back in the day, the Ikessar clan was just one of many, living in the mountains among Kibouri priests and monks and whatever else they had up there. Like all the major clans, they became well-known because of their connection with dragons. There were a number of famous dragonriders from the clan, most of whom served the warlord of the city of Darusu, which lay right at the base of the mountains in that region.

“The Ikessars also made a name in capturing and training dragons. For a time, the majority of dragons came from the eastern mountains—small, hardy creatures who were easily tamed, or so the texts say. There’s still dragon-towers scattered among the villages in those mountains. So the lords from all across the land would come to take their pick of the creatures, and somewhere along the way a friendship between the warlord of Bara and the head of the Ikessar clan was formed. Warlord Luban, I think was his name; he brought the Ikessar clan chief to his palace.

“Now, I’ve got to confess that I don’t quite remember the entire chronology of events. I know that this man, Chief…”

“R—?” Khine ventured.

“Ryar,” I said with a grimace.

“Spirits, how do they keep track of everyone? At least without sounding like a spirits-be-damned pirate?”

“It’s why I named my son Thanh,” I replied. “I wasn’t going to follow along with that madness.”

“So instead you started your own? Talyien. Thanh.”

I frowned at him. “Maybe you don’t want to hear this story.”

“I don’t,” Agos sighed.

“Please go on,” Khine said with a grin.

“Chief Ryar quickly gained the reputation as a levelheaded, intelligent man. He was also a devout follower of the Nameless Maker and the prophet Kibouri. The land, which was suffering from all sorts of skirmishes among the warlords, greatly admired him. In the following years, an idea for peace was born: why not have one ruler? Someone wise and powerful, and more important—someone who posed no threat to the warlords who could put him in such a place.”

“Let me guess,” Khine said. “The Baraji warlord suggested this.”

I was surprised. “You’ve been paying attention.”

He bowed with false modesty.

“They did not want to use the word king, not directly. Such a word implied power and dominion over all. No, instead they chose to bestow the title Dragonlord, peacekeeper and uniter of the royal clans. Dragon, you see, because they chose Chief Ryar for this and he came from the dragon-lands of Darusu.”

“There’s people who will disagree with that explanation,” Agos broke in. “Dragonlord. King. It was always the same thing.”

“I don’t see them around anywhere, so I’m telling this story the way I understand it,” I snapped. “So. Not all the warlords agreed; I believe only half even attended the coronation of this so-called uniter. But the important part is that suddenly, some of the warlords were cooperating, which was something that the land had never seen before. They contributed coin from their own treasuries to fund the Dragon Palace in Shirrokaru, a small town on the shores of Lake Watu. Of course, most did it to further their own interests—to increase their influences and grow closer to Dragonlord Ryar.

“Except Dragonlord Ryar…wasn’t that kind of man. It’s funny to admit it, but it was clear why people found him endearing. He was kind to all but himself, and clearly more interested in working with the warlords to better the land than to seize power for his family. Incorruptible, the texts say. Warlord Tal of Oren-yaro, of course, didn’t agree.”

“Warlord Tal,” Khine breathed. “I just realized. Gods, you people.”

“He had clashed with Ryar from the moment he appeared in the Bara court,” I continued, ignoring him. “Warlord Tal was always one step behind him, breathing down his neck. Nothing Ryar did was ever good enough.”

“This story sounds oddly familiar.”

I smiled. “Warlord Tal was one of those who refused to attend the coronation, finding the whole thing ridiculous, a sham orchestrated by the other warlords to seize more power for themselves. Nevertheless, the palace in Shirrokaru was built.

“Some of the warlords who opposed the Dragonlord banded together. Kyo-orashi, Osahindo, and Natu gathered over three thousand soldiers and marched for Shirrokaru and the Dragon Palace. Dragonlord Ryar didn’t have enough men to defend the palace and was forced to flee. He thought this was enough to dissuade the rebels.

“But the soldiers came anyway, and they ransacked the city. The Slaughter of Shirrokaru, the textbooks call it. What the soldiers did to the civilians was atrocious. Rape and murder, and even children weren’t spared. You know how it was in Dar Aso? It was worse than that, and for what? Just to send a message to the others that they didn’t agree with the idea of peace? Oren-yaro, the closest city, could no longer stand to listen to the stories of refugees as they rushed through our gates. Warlord Tal gathered what men he could and rode to liberate Shirrokaru. They caught the rebels unaware, entering the city through the sewers. And then they fought their way out, down to the last man.”

“Five hundred against three thousand,” Agos said. “The Oren-yaro legacy.”

I couldn’t tell if it was pride or scorn in his voice, and berated the interruption with a sigh. “Mind you, it was three thousand mostly drunk and unarmed men, caught unaware. A good number were enjoying themselves in brothels. I believe Warlord Tal released several dragons from the pits to spread chaos through the streets.”

“I think you’ve told me part of this story before,” Khine said. “This Warlord Tal was the last one standing when Dragonlord Ryar returned with reinforcements.”

I nodded. “He finally conceded to the Dragonlord when he died. He wanted peace himself. Who doesn’t? He wanted his son to inherit a land that wasn’t drenched in blood.” I fell silent as we approached the gates. There were guards checking the horde of newcomers. I tugged at Agos’s arm. “Those don’t look like Shirrokaru soldiers,” I whispered.

“They don’t,” Agos said. His eyes focused in the darkness. “They’re Kyo-orashi.”

“They’re not supposed to be there. Kyo-orashi has no authority in these lands.”

“Well, they’re there,” Agos hissed. “Let’s turn back before—”

“You!” they called out. “To the front of the line, now!”

I took a step back and glanced at my companions. If I could make a dash for the bushes, perhaps…

“There’s archers on the towers,” Agos hissed. “Don’t do anything hasty.”

“It’s too dark,” Khine replied. “Will they even hit us?”

“Oh, they’ll hit you,” Agos said through gritted teeth. “The Kyo clan have mastered the bow and arrow. You’ll be riddled with arrows before you can take two breaths.”

“What’s this?” I said out loud as the soldiers approached us. “Mere travellers like us getting accosted by guards at night. Except—” I pretended to peer closely at the soldier’s helmet. “You’re not a guard. You’re a warlord’s soldier!”

“Smart woman,” the soldier said, reaching for my arm.

I jerked back. “What happened to the city guards?”

“Quit your yelling, woman,” the soldier snapped. “Haven’t you heard? The Dragonthrone’s in disarray. Nobody’s sitting on it right now. The council has removed Queen Talyien from her position, but since Lord Rayyel has never been crowned—”

“We won’t get very far if we explain the details to everyone,” another soldier broke in. He looked like the other’s superior.

The first soldier frowned before turning back to me. “You are cordially invited to Warlord San’s palace, along with every woman travelling into the city. Don’t worry. Warlord San merely wishes to ask you a few questions, and if he’s satisfied, you’ll be returned to Fuyyu on the next ship.”

“And if I don’t go?” I snapped.

The soldier gave an ear-splitting whistle.

I drew my sword just as more soldiers came around the corner, enough time to pin the first soldier against the gate with my left elbow. With my right hand, I slammed the hilt of my sword against his jaw. Before he could counter, I pulled his helmet off and struck him with it, hard enough to draw blood. He sank to his knees. In the meantime, Agos charged the officer—both men crashed to the ground.

“Into the city!” I ordered Khine and Cho. “We’ll find each other later!”

Cho hesitated; Khine punched him on the shoulder to get him to move. They disappeared around the alley.

Agos got up before his opponent, and stabbed the officer through the throat. In the meantime, my soldier was still reeling from the head wound I had given him. I pulled out his sword and flung it straight into the path of the incoming soldiers before dragging the man to his feet, using him as a shield. I pressed my sword against his throat and whispered something into his ear.

“Stop!” he screamed.

To their credit, his friends listened.

“It’s the queen, isn’t it?” he asked me, his breath whistling through his teeth. “It has to be.”

“How perceptive of you,” I replied. I continued dragging him into the alley with Agos at my flank. An open sewer gurgled to my left, with a stench so thick it made me dizzy.

“Except they all say you’re not queen anymore,” the soldier said. “They say you—”

“Shut up.”

“—can’t keep your legs closed so—”

I struck his mouth with my sword handle.

“You can’t kill me,” he hissed. “You’ll lose your hostage.”

“You’ve got a bloated sense of your own importance here, soldier.”

“So do you, Lady Oren-yaro.”

“Why are you even here? Has the Kyo clan decided they’re done sitting things out? Warlord San must have run out of entertainment in his fine castle.”

We heard footsteps behind us.

“We don’t have time for this,” Agos snarled. “We have to run!”

I twisted the soldier’s arm before shoving him into the ditch. He stumbled, falling face first into the dirty water. “My bloated sense of importance showed you mercy,” I said. “Remember that, soldier.”

He spat.

I turned to follow Agos around the next bend. “They’ll be waiting for us when the street opens,” he ventured. “Can we go up the rooftops?”

I glanced up. The walls were very high up here, with moss-covered stone. I tested the edge with the tip of my boot and swore as it slipped. “We’re out of luck,” I grumbled.

“Shit.”

The soldiers were gaining on us. I swore again, turning around to meet them. There were two that I could see, though there might be more down the narrow alleyway behind them. “More coming down that end, too,” Agos said, his back against mine. “Has your time in dragon country whipped you back into shape?”

“You talk like you haven’t gained weight. Can you even see the ground from where you’re standing?”

“Hey, now hold on, I didn’t say you were—”

The soldiers charged.

I shouldn’t enjoy fighting as much as I did, but it was easier to admit now. Fighting with Agos felt like a dance, a dance I was good at, and it felt like fire through my veins. It isn’t that I don’t feel fear during the process—that I don’t worry about taking the wrong step, or neglecting to see a strike that would end it for me then and there. If anything, it was like wading into an ocean of uncertainty, a sensation that felt like I was hanging off the edge, with nothing to catch me below.

But every blow I dealt my enemies was a blow against those fears; here, with my oldest guard at my side, I wasn’t striking at nothing. I wasn’t helpless. I struck the sword out of one soldier’s hand before I met the incoming attack of another. My blade grazed his side and I stepped away, letting him run straight into Agos’s blade. He cleaved him from the neck down across his chest, almost splitting his torso in half from the strength of the blow as easily as a butcher’s knife cracking a chicken. Kyo-orashi soldiers didn’t wear much armour; maybe Warlord San would start seriously rethinking that after this.

Maybe.

An arrow struck my leg, lodging itself partway into the meaty part of my thigh. My breath turned into a scream. I doubled forward, heading for the archer, who was hiding behind a shrub, desperately trying to load another arrow into his bow.

The blow took me from behind.

When my senses returned, I was lying on the ground, drenched in blood. “Princess,” I heard Agos whisper over my ear. I gazed up. We were in an abandoned house. Piles of stone and debris littered the ground.

I stirred, lifting my fingers, which were soaked in red.

“Not yours,” Agos croaked. “I killed them all.” His eyes were red, as if he had been crying.

I tried to get to my feet. He held me down, before pointing at my leg. The arrow was gone. “Wasn’t a bad wound,” he said. “But maybe you should rest it a little longer.”

I tested the muscle. “It’s nothing,” I said.

“Still…”

“Agos. I’m fine.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I know you’re fine.” But his face remained shadowed.

“Out with it,” I sighed.

“It’s nothing.”

“Talk, Agos.”

He looked like I was twisting his arm. “It’s just that…how much longer are you going to be fine? Look at us. This is…this is pathetic. I can’t protect you like this. No guards and four rusty swords between us, with two idiots who can’t even hold a blade or throw a punch properly. I thought you were dead. That asshole—the one you spared—cracked a log over your head. Don’t know how he got the jump on us. I cracked his head open but it was too late. Fuck, Princess. I try, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I don’t know how to keep you alive long enough to get to Oren-yaro.”

“What are you saying?”

“Kaggawa’s offer isn’t too bad, is it?” he asked. “We just have to swallow our pride.”

“I can’t play politics while my son’s life is in danger. That letter from the council—”

“It could be fake.”

“Even if it is, the damage is done. Kaggawa will want me dancing to his tune all so he and that soul inside of him can quench their thirst for power. I won’t entertain him further.” I took a deep breath and tried to stand again. The cut on my leg didn’t hurt much, and I could still put weight on it. I turned around to find my sword.

Agos handed it to me. “I can’t protect you all the time, Princess,” he said in a low voice.

“I don’t need you to. It’s not your job anymore.” I paused for a moment, gazing at the pained expression on his face. “You’re here as my friend. Can you do that for me, Agos?”

He looked confused. His eyes flicked downward. “I don’t know how to be your friend anymore,” he said at last. “It was different when we were children. Easier. Simpler. Your life wasn’t in danger, then. Now it is—all the fucking time. And it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“It’s—”

“Before your wedding. I should have said no. Fuck. I should have refused. You gave me a choice. But the fucking idiot I was didn’t know…” Agos shook his head slowly, his face flooded with discomfort. “Lamang, now, he’s your friend. I know you’ve got with him what we used to—that you can be in his company and not be reminded of every chain and every lock of our damn lives. That’s why he’s here, even when he’s barely keeping himself together. I didn’t appreciate that before. Me, I’m just your guard now. I don’t know what I am if I’m not. I told you. I’m no good at anything else, and even this I’m failing miserably at. I just…I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to you, Princess.” With a sigh, he turned away and stepped through the cracked doorway.

I followed him wordlessly, both of us stumbling through the alleys like drunkards.

We had barely gone two streets down when we encountered more soldiers on the path. Agos fiddled with his sword; I touched his arm, imploring him to back down. There were too many, and I didn’t have it in me to fight again so soon. He held his breath, his jaw tight.

“You’re that troublemaker,” an officer said, pointing.

“Spare my companion, and I won’t resist,” I replied.

The officer hesitated. But it was too easy of a catch, and I could tell he didn’t really want Agos. He nodded. His soldiers stepped aside, giving Agos room to walk past them.

“I can’t do this,” Agos said. “I won’t.”

“You will. Go and find Lamang.”

He conceded, though it seemed to take forever for him to turn around and walk away.

“Don’t worry,” the soldier said as they strapped chains around my wrists. “We’re not barbarians. If anything, this is the most fun you’ll have all week.” I found myself being dragged down the streets.