CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE WARLORD OF KYO-ORASHI

Kyo-orashi City lay at the tip of a peninsula somewhere in the middle of the coastline of Jin-Sayeng. It was a good few days’ travel from Fuyyu, if the weather was fair. Not that I would know anything about the state of the wind or waves during that time. I was separated from the men and stuffed unceremoniously belowdeck with about thirty other women chained to each other, with only a single chamberpot shared among a number of us. I quickly lost track of time.

Most of it I spent in a trance, half-asleep, half-awake. It was difficult whenever the ship rolled and the women would strain at their chains or wail out loud, wanting to know the reason for their capture and why they were being treated this way. I was the only one keenly aware of our predicament. I was the reason for all of this, after all.

Not that I knew exactly why, but I could tell enough from the snippets of conversation I was able to gather from the guards. Warlord San, not liking the uncertainty surrounding the Dragonthrone during that time, had taken matters into his own hands. He had seized control of Fuyyu in order to find the queen himself.

Or so it seemed, anyway. After everything that had happened in the Sougen, I was no longer as sure of myself as I once was. Warlord San had always seemed harmless. A tall man, muscular, younger than most of the warlords—though he had at least two grown sons already—and with a booming laugh that could travel from one end of the courtyard to the other. He never took anything seriously, didn’t attend meetings unless he had to, and went as far as to relinquish his offered seat in the council to his cousin Lady Esh. “I’ve got no head for ruling,” he liked to brag. “If my father had given me a choice, I wouldn’t have inherited Kyo-orashi. I’d have gone sailing.”

Sometime during the first day of my imprisonment in the ship’s hold, I pulled out Rayyel’s letter to the Anyus, the same one he had sent out to every corner of Jin-Sayeng. I had kept it tucked in my pocket the whole time. I held it up to the porthole, under the shaft of sunlight, wondering why my husband would do something so drastic so quickly. As embarrassing as it was to admit it, such an impetuous decision was something I would’ve done.

I stuffed it back in my shirt and let out a sigh.

“From your lover?” the woman beside me asked.

I smiled at her, choosing not to answer. Not that she would’ve heard my response—from across the other end of the room, we heard a piercing scream as one of the women was unclipped from her chains. Two sailors tried to drag her up the ladder.

The other women grabbed her before they could get her up the first rung and reached out to attack the men. The sailors fought back with clubs and chains, but soon retreated to the deck without their prize. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I felt myself sigh with relief.

“That’s just going to keep happening until we get there,” the woman beside me whispered. “Do they think they’re going to get away with this?”

Yes, I thought. But I kept my mouth shut and my eyes downward. The woman found my silence uneasy, and shuffled close, her chains clinking against mine. “You’re a strange one. You don’t like it when people talk to you or something?”

“Oh, leave her alone,” someone behind us piped up.

“I’m just trying to make our situation less miserable,” the woman snapped. She turned her gaze back to me. “Look. Maybe you just don’t like to talk to strangers.”

I cleared my throat. “It’s not that,” I said.

“Well, there you go,” she replied, her eyes brightening. “Not so bad, is it? How did these bastards get you, anyway?”

“Came in from the Sougen.” I tried to keep the rough, rural slang in my voice. It was harder than I thought.

“I came to visit my mother-in-law, who works at the docks. If I knew this was going on, I would’ve just been a bad daughter and stayed home. You think they’re serious about sending us home after Warlord San questions us? What would he want to ask us about, anyhow?”

“I think they’re looking for the queen,” another woman replied. There was a general buzz of assent.

“Whatever for?” the woman talking to me asked.

“Haven’t you heard? She fucked around.”

I had to let the rush of anger go right through me.

“We’ve been hearing that for years,” someone else added. “Her guardsman, or something like?”

“Guardsmen is what I heard.”

“And her husband got tired of it and complained to the council.”

“Wait a moment,” she said. “This the husband who’s been missing for years?”

“I guess so,” the other woman replied.

“So he’s finally gone and shown himself. And the queen—she’s still missing?”

A confused murmur.

“That doesn’t sound right,” the woman beside me continued. “You all know what this sounds like to me? Those damn royals are getting into a pissing match all over again, and we’re caught up in it.”

“Nothing new,” someone agreed. “Not surprised. It’s not like the queen’s done any good this whole time. Having her as ruler was supposed to mean progress, but look. We’re just as poor as ever, and the royals are still having their way with us. And I thought moving to Fuyyu meant I could put all of that behind me.”

She shook her head. “It’s gone too far. It’s a fucking royal who’s gone and taken us against our will. Like we’d know anything about the queen.”

“Maybe Warlord San thinks the queen’s among us.”

She laughed. “Then he’s deluded. Look at us! Any of you look like a queen?”

They began to laugh with her. I adjusted my chains and closed my eyes. I told myself there was no sense in getting angry. The women didn’t know what they were talking about, and trying to correct them wouldn’t do any good. If I couldn’t even convince my own husband, what more strangers?

Numb it, I thought. Numb the pain. Why are you so upset? I must’ve known what being queen meant. My father had tried to prepare me. “They will bring blades, Tali. And they will strike you everywhere it hurts. Don’t let them.” He used to say these things when I was going through my sword practice, so I thought he meant physically. It was only lately that I was starting to understand the layers in both Yeshin’s words and actions, the tangled depths of his mind. They had all feared my father for a reason.

But the pain was still there, a drop of blood spreading like a cloud in a vat of water. If I was Yeshin’s sword beyond the grave, what had I done wrong? Had it been up to me to decipher his cryptic plans even before I married Rayyel? Perhaps if I had been smart enough to learn of them in time, I could’ve avoided the whole thing. I wouldn’t have married Rai at all. That my people still followed my father meant one thing, at least: they didn’t see me as a capable leader. Everything I had done up to that point was not enough, not when you are one person struggling against the tide of thousands of others whose interests did not always align with yours. Even if you are a queen.

I mulled over these in the next few hours, the thoughts digging deeper than I expected them to. I kept thinking back to the courage I thought I’d found when I faced that dragon while trying to save Eikaro, and what had gone wrong. If I made the decision to be a queen on my own terms and not how my father and my husband wanted me to be, how would I go about it? You’d first need an army, I found myself thinking, falling back on the same old patterns my father had instilled in me. There was power in strength, in fear.

Except the Ikessars never needed either. Not the feeble regime that gave birth to the Shadows, but the old Ikessars, the ones who made Warlord Tal concede. He wanted his son to inherit a land that wasn’t drenched in blood. My own words to Khine, coming back to haunt me.

The sailors tried to come back the next night. There were more of them now, blades instead of clubs in their hands. They pointed at the women who had fought back in the previous assault. As they came for them, I stood up. Amongst the throng of women who were now frightened into stupor, the clang of my chains was almost deafening.

“What do you want?” a sailor asked.

“I would like to speak to your captain,” I replied. I felt a woman’s hand on my leg.

“Sit down,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Let’s end this,” I continued as the sailor came up, his face twisted in disbelief.

“Think this one is volunteering,” he sneered. He tried to grab me.

I struck him in the crotch with my chain. He jumped back, howling in pain. Another sailor came rushing to his aid and tried to frighten me by brandishing his sword. I looped the chain around the blade before he could bring it down and wrenched it off his hand. I tugged, and the blade fell to the deck, where I quickly grabbed it. I was still bound, but now armed. I grinned at them.

“Get her,” the one on the ground groaned.

I now had their full attention. “Warlord San sent you on an errand that came with explicit instructions to return these women to their homes after his questioning. How do you think he’ll react if he finds out you’ve been sampling them behind his back?”

“What’s it to him?” one of the sailors spat.

“Everything, I would imagine,” I said. “I know Warlord San doesn’t like it when his men are presumptuous. You must be new to his employ. Where are the soldiers?”

“Soldiers promised to keep quiet,” the sailor grinned. “We’re not getting paid enough for this shit. Maybe if you bend over now—”

I shook my head. “You’re still not getting it. Maybe the soldiers will keep quiet, but you don’t think these women will talk? Do you even know how Warlord San will react if he learns you’ve tainted his invitation?” The women lifted their heads, and I turned to them briefly. “You all heard what the soldiers said when they took us in. Warlord San does intend to offer his full hospitality if we cooperate.”

“This doesn’t look like hospitality,” the woman said, glancing around the hold.

“Of course it doesn’t,” I snarled. “I would assume he gave orders and these men didn’t see them for what they are. Maybe you should go ask your captain. Go on.”

The sailor lifted his fist. “Fucking bitch…”

“Fucking bitch has a sword and knows how to use it,” I reminded him. “Maybe I’ll ask him myself. You all went through this trouble to find a certain someone. I’ll make this really easy for you. Take me to your captain now. Tell him you’ve found her.”

I wasn’t sure if they believed me or thought I was just mad, a woman spouting nonsense to save her life. But they removed me from the hold—still in chains—and took me up to the captain’s cabin. I had to give up the sword for them to agree to this, though it wasn’t much of a loss, anyway. I didn’t think the rusty thing would take two blows without shattering.

I ducked my head as they pushed me through the narrow doorway and slammed the door shut, leaving me alone with who I thought was the captain. The man turned at the sound of my arrival, and I realized my mistake at once.

It was Ino Qun.

“Ah,” he said, holding out his hands. “The Bitch Queen comes home at last.” He was seated near the desk, legs folded over each other. He smiled. “Although, forgive me if I’m getting it wrong, but aren’t you lacking a title at this point in time? Your husband made an announcement regarding your infidelities, I believe. A grave accusation. Such a shame. And you were trying so hard.”

I took one step towards him. “Don’t test me.”

“Test you? I’m not testing you, my lady. Although you’re not a lady anymore, either, are you? No, the accusations were too harsh, and Warlord Ozo had no choice but to salvage your city, your lands, and your people for the good of the realm.” His eyes twinkled.

I reeled back at his words. Warlord Ozo?

“Oh,” Qun said. “You didn’t know? How awful! Your own general, and a man your father trusted! And it wouldn’t have been possible if the rest of your lords didn’t agree! Well, no shame in being the last to hear the news. The report came right around the time we left for Fuyyu, at the heels of the council’s stripping down of your title. Your nation has very interesting ways to do things. I’m sure you’re dying to know what I’m doing in a Kyo-orashi-sanctioned ship, surrounded by Kyo-orashi guards.”

“Not as much as I’m dying to strangle you to death with these chains.”

“Such language.” Qun shook his head. “You should learn by now I am not as easy to get rid of as so many others who had the misfortune of crossing your path. Did you think, for instance, that your little trick in An Mozhi would’ve worked for long? It was almost brilliant—using Lo Bahn to incriminate himself and drag me with him.”

“It worked.”

“So it did,” Qun said with a grin. “But I think you were hoping for more, else you wouldn’t be surprised. Ah, but what can you do? The word of a common thug, against the word of a prince…” His smile deepened, gleamed.

I knew there was no sense pretending as if none of this was happening. I kicked one of the spare chairs close to me and sat down on it, my chained hands on my knees. “How’s Yuebek doing these days? His nose fall off yet?”

“He’s at An Mozhi cleaning up after the mess you made. He entrusted me with preparing Jin-Sayeng for his arrival.”

I crossed my legs, mirroring his posture. “And, er, how are you supposed to do that, exactly?”

“My, but aren’t you chatty? It’s nothing you need to concern yourself over. You’re exactly where I need you to be.”

“Let’s imagine that I’m willing to entertain Yuebek’s proposals,” I said. “What’s the point? You already know what’s happening out here. No longer queen, and as you said yourself—no longer lady of Oren-yaro.” I smiled, now. “An impasse, Qun. Your prince wants a pauper for his wife.”

He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think we know that?”

I stared back at him.

He turned around to flick the shutters open, letting a spray of sunlight into the small cabin. “Prince Yuebek’s arrival, the ships we’ve chartered—these are, unfortunately, things not easily hidden, and smoothing things with Hizao was about all An Mozhi could talk about for weeks. Your husband Rayyel must’ve caught wind of everything and boarded a vessel ahead of me. His risky accusation was my welcome to these shores. To think that he would cut through you to get to us—”

“That’s not what he did,” I said.

“Isn’t it?” Qun asked. “I was under the impression your husband was a careful man. Did this sound like something he would do?”

He was right about it, of course. I had thought as much back in the hold. The husband I knew would’ve waited until he reached the capital first. The letter also claimed council approval. But there was no way the council would’ve had time to approve such a thing unless…

Rai had lied through his teeth.

It sounded even more ridiculous now that I thought of it that way. In time, the council would catch wind of what he had done and punish him accordingly. Either he was counting on the fact that the majority of the council were Ikessar supporters and would allow such audacities to slip through, or he only cared what would happen in the meantime. If I was disgraced, Yuebek’s claim was worthless. “Marry her then,” they’d say while they squabbled over everything else. “What kingdom could you claim?”

I turned to Qun. It almost sounded like an excellent plan. Almost. Except Qun wasn’t worried. He had the look of someone who was daring you to do better than your best just so he could show you what he had planned.

“You were telling me about Kyo-orashi,” I said, trying not to let the panic creep into my voice.

“Ah, Kyo-orashi,” Qun replied, settling into his seat with a satisfied smile. “Warlord San, for all his reputation, is a shrewd, reasonable man. We had him noted as a potential supporter, and we were right—and lucky enough that he was in Fuyyu the week we arrived. During our brief correspondence, we were able to formulate a way to not only flush you out of hiding—there were rumours that you were at the Sougen, and Fuyyu was naturally the easiest way to get back home for you—but begin the path to restoring your name just in time for the prince’s arrival. What! You look surprised. Did you think we would wait for all of this to blow over?”

He clapped his hands. The door opened, and a soldier stepped in, bowing. “Unchain her,” Qun commanded in deeply accented Jinan.

The soldier hesitated. “Are you sure, sir?”

“She’s not going to try anything,” he said with the confidence of someone who had never faced me with a sword.

I held out my manacles helpfully. The soldier held out a key and undid the locks as if he had been asked to pet a rabid dog. “You do understand what your cooperation means, don’t you?” Qun asked as soon as the chains fell off.

Rubbing my wrists, I turned to him. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

“So we have. I’m glad you remember.” Qun crossed his arms. “You will be treated as befitting who you are, Talyien Orenar. Not that I would mind if you acted like a common criminal.” He showed me his teeth to show exactly how much he would enjoy putting me in my place, just as he’d tried to do back in Anzhao.

The rest of the women were unloaded in the city of Natu and I was locked up in a tiny room in the upper deck, staring at the sea. My thoughts carried with them a potency that would’ve been dangerous if they had let me keep my sword. I wondered at how much easier the whole situation would’ve been if I had a loyal handmaid. If I still had Nor, even. She could’ve pretended to be me while I slipped away to rescue her later. The queens and princesses of old seemed to have no problem finding servants and dashing, charming princes who would stop at nothing to save them. Even someone like me, who had learned from an early age that life was not a fairy tale, had been swept away by such fancies. Most of us have. We want to believe that problems, once solved, pave the way for happily-ever-afters. We don’t want to know that life is always going to be a stormy sea and that you’re supposed to weather every wave until the waters consume you. Yeshin had been an old man, happily married with four grown sons. It should’ve ended there. Instead, he outlived them all. And someone who had been queen should’ve had more, shouldn’t have felt so powerless, shouldn’t have been alone.

But I was used to being alone.

I was used to staring at my reflection, my own dark eyes gazing back in silence. To the company of my thoughts, to conversation followed only by the echo of silence. It was no worse than what I had lived through during my childhood, when the palace staff and my father were too busy and I was ordered to stay in my room for days on end. I had learned later that my father intended it to teach me how to survive prison torture, that he had wanted to do more but Magister Arro somehow found ways to dissuade him. Well; it had worked for me back in Yuebek’s dungeon, and this was luxurious compared with that.

Qun knew it wouldn’t be enough to break me.

On the second night after we left the port at Natu, I woke up to knocking, and nearly bumped my head on the windowsill as I scrambled out of bed. And then I heard Qun. “I hope you’re sleeping well, Beloved Queen,” he said in a voice that indicated the complete opposite.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked.

“The captain said we should be at the next port in three days, if the weather remains fair.”

I sucked in my breath, waiting.

He cleared his throat. “I do hope you continue to be on your best behaviour. I hate to think of what I’ll have to do otherwise—like what will happen, say, to little Thani if you don’t remain in perfect compliance. Tan? Your infernal names make me dizzy. Thanh! There you go.”

“Qun, lay a hand on him and I swear to all the gods of this land you will not live to see the day.”

I heard a muffled laugh from behind the door. “You threaten me as if you have a sword at my throat and not, proverbially speaking, the other way around. It’s oddly amusing. I think it’s because you know there’s not much I can do to you while we’re on this ship. If I said I could have the men take turns raping you, you’ll probably just laugh and threaten to break their cocks off.”

“How perceptive of you.”

“And of course, my prince wouldn’t appreciate that. He still wants to preserve whatever little…dignity…you have left.” He chuckled once more. “Having said that, have I mentioned that some of my men have a fondness for little boys?”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Yes,” Qun continued. “That would do it. He’d squirm, probably. I’m told they do that. So they’ll have to break his arms and legs first, make it easier to stick it up his little bunghole. But no, you’re thinking. They would never dare do such a thing to the heir of Jin-Sayeng! No. Have you forgotten that in the eyes of your whole kingdom, your boy is a worthless bastard? Nothing but a sack of meat, and by the time my men are done he’ll have less value than the most disease-ridden whore in Shang Azi. It’ll be a mercy to chop him up and feed him to the dogs, which I’m told you have more than enough of in Oren-yaro. Remember this on the off chance you’re tempted to forget your manners, Beloved Queen. Do everything I ask and maybe you’ll find the chance to redeem your boy from your debaucheries.”

I heard him walk away, my eyes on the foaming waves as I imagined the things I would do to Qun in return for the things he had said. When we have nothing else, even despair can be a weapon.

The days passed. I woke up early enough to see the faint outline of the Orashi Peninsula on the horizon, marked by the tall cliffs that bordered the shoreline. The city of Kyo-orashi itself lay on top of a hill. With only three dragon-towers around the base of the tall, imposing palace, it looked like a lighthouse. Rai told me once that a lighthouse, indeed, was the inspiration for its design, and that in the days of the dragons their fire could light up the city so that you could see it halfway across the Zarojo Sea.

We docked at the harbour, about an hour’s walk from the city gates. There were guards gathered at the far end of the platform when we arrived. They all stepped aside as we walked through, me one step behind Qun. As soon as we reached the sandy bar along the docks, we came face-to-face with the tall, imposing figure of Warlord San aren dar Kyo.

Boyish is perhaps the first word that comes to mind when you look at Warlord San. Though he was dressed every bit as a warlord, in full armour and helmet, the attire didn’t seem to fit him. He smiled often, with wrinkles around his eyes to show exactly how such an expression had served him all his life. Despite his age, most of his hair was still black, though I had heard it uttered more than once that his women dyed it for him.

“We meet again, Warlord—” Qun began.

San walked right past him.

“Warlord San,” I said, allowing him to take my hand. He pressed his lips over it. “You’ve been expecting me, then.”

He laughed, pulling away to spread his arms in a warm gesture of welcome. “I did send a ship after you, didn’t I?”

“And an entire hold of other women you were hoping might be me,” I said. “Is one Lady Talyien truly not enough for you?”

“You know full well it’s not,” he said, using his most flattering tone. Now he turned to Qun, who didn’t look too happy at being ignored. “Deputy,” he began.

“Governor,” Qun corrected.

“Ah. Indeed. Forgive my oversight.”

My eyes flicked between their faces. Qun had his politician’s smile on. San’s seemed more genuine, but his eyes were distant, like he didn’t really want to look directly at Qun at all. Blackmail? Yuebek’s information on Jin-Sayeng must’ve been extensive. Did they unearth skeletons from Warlord San’s closets and were now using this against him? Potential ally, indeed.

San made a sweeping gesture before leading us down the road to a restaurant overlooking the wharf, one that his ancestors had built long before they were ever recognized as a royal clan. His family had been running it for years. Their specialty was crab, which was hardly surprising. I had the satisfaction of watching Qun hesitate at the sight of the tray heaped high with cooked crabs, glistening orange and yellow—his fastidious native Zarojo ways didn’t know where to start. In the meantime, I cracked a crab in half without missing a beat and drew out a piece of white meat, covered in the rich, yellow fat that lined the inside of the shell. A fat, happy crab—Kyo-orashi must’ve been blessed with a good season. I popped the meat into my mouth, followed by a pinch of rice and squash. It was heavy with the taste of the coconut cream they had boiled them in.

San smiled. “It’s all delicious, isn’t it?”

“Delectable,” I said with a drawl.

“They’re coconut crabs, fresh from one of the islands.”

“Warlord San—”

He glanced at Qun before switching to Zirano. “You seem to think you’re here against your will.”

“I really wasn’t given much of a choice,” I said. “Isn’t that right, Governor?”

“You wouldn’t have come if we’d asked nicely,” Qun scoffed. “You do have a reputation.”

“And leaving you to be picked up by just about anyone, to be sent off to the Ikessars, seemed a bit…unreasonable.” San spat out a piece of orange shell and wiped his mouth. “It was their missing brat that you went to meet in the empire, wasn’t it?”

“Brat—” I started.

“We’re in Kyo-orashi, Lady Talyien,” San said with a grin. “We can speak frankly, can we not? You are among friends.”

“Am I?” I asked. “I seem to recall being trapped in the empire and not having a single soul come to save me. You certainly didn’t.”

He waved a crab leg at me. “While you were in the Zarojo Empire, I waited to see what the Oren-yaro would do—I didn’t want to be blamed for imposing. You can hardly fault me for not having the sort of resources the rest of them have. Well, forget all of that. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“You undermined Fuyyu authority.”

“I did! Not that the Fuyyu guards had any sort of authority without a Dragonlord on the throne. I told my men to point out this little fact when I ordered them to march for Fuyyu, and considering there was no reported bloodshed, I’m sure the city guards were more than happy to step aside. You can punish me for it later.” His eyes twinkled. “This meeting with Prince Rayyel—I suppose he didn’t get what he wanted, else he wouldn’t have started accusing you like he did.”

“You could say that.” I gathered rice and squash between my fingers and took another bite. From the corner of my eyes, I observed Warlord San’s expression. He had turned away from his food to look out at the shore.

I wiped my fingers on the wet cloth beside me. “Let’s not mince words, Warlord San,” I said. “Why am I here?”

San smirked underneath his thin black beard. His small eyes seemed to smile with the rest of him. “I signed the pact to put you on that throne.” He bared his arm, revealing a long scar from his wrist down to his inner elbow. “You could see I was rather enthusiastic with the blade.”

“So it looks like.”

“The point—” Qun said.

San snarled at him. “I was getting to that. Look, Lady Talyien. I’m not in any sort of hurry to throw the land back into the days of the Ikessars. I’m a traditionalist, and the Ikessars entertain too many strange ways—ways that have been curbed ever since your father’s little war.”

“I see.” I glanced at Qun. “And what was the dear governor’s idea?”

By now, the crab on his plate was nothing but a pile of orange shells, piled higher than the candles around us. San flicked his fingers and grinned. “A chance to gain some respect back, to remind the land who you truly are. Not Prince Rayyel’s forlorn wife, brooding with her infidelities, but Yeshin’s bitch pup, all grown up.”