CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE KYO-ORASHI ARENA

The expression on my face, more than making San think that he had crossed a line, only seemed to amuse him further.

“Are you suggesting war?” I asked. “The Zarojo and Kyo-orashi…”

“And Oren-yaro,” Qun said, uncrossing his arms.

My nostrils flared. “And you really think I’d agree to this?”

“Prince Rayyel has forced our hand, Lady Talyien,” Qun replied with a smirk. “Believe me, it wouldn’t have come to this if you had only abandoned him then. Look where it got you.”

I bristled, turning to San. “You’d agree to this. You’d let us ally ourselves with the Zarojo—”

“As we once did,” San said with a snarl. “Do you remember, Lady Talyien, how we used to be allies? And how prosperous Jin-Sayeng was in those days? The Ikessars meddled, and look what it got us.”

“Rest assured,” Qun added. “We are not riding off to war. Not yet. First you need to show your nation that you are in fact alive and very much worthy of the throne, and not crawling around begging for help, as it were.” He gave another smug smile. Gods, but I wanted to wipe it off him, with my bare fists if I had to.

“Don’t presume to tell me what my nation needs,” I said in a low voice.

“Temper, my lady,” Qun crooned. “I thought we had an understanding.”

“You’ve heard of my arena,” San continued with a cough. “I believe I showed you the plans a few years ago. You even praised the design and my architect’s ingenuity.” He cleared out part of the table and began making a reconstruction using crab shells.

“I remember,” I murmured, forcing my attention away from Qun towards him. “For horsefights and Karo-ras tournaments, you said. What of it?”

San rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I may have expanded on that. You see the sides here? Seats for over three times what I wanted before. We built it right across the palace where the barracks used to be. Didn’t think the guards needed all that view, anyway. We hold more than horsefights here, my lady.”

“What Warlord San is trying to so eloquently say,” Qun said, “is that you need a glorious return to Jin-Sayeng’s public eye. War is not just about who has the most powerful forces. If we don’t sway the public, how much support would we get from the rest? You need to convince them that you are worth the trouble—that your defiance of the Ikessars comes from within.”

“And so what—you want me to put on a show?” I nearly laughed in outrage. “Hack my way through—what? A select force of your fighters, hand-picked? Do you want me to wear a blindfold and wave a wooden sword around?”

“Not quite,” San said. “Though the picture you painted would be amusing.”

“In case the expression on my face isn’t clear enough, my lords, I am far from amused.”

San smiled. “If we announce an alliance with the Zarojo, we are making a pact to return to tradition, to the roots that gave this nation strength. Traditionally, warlords got their titles by proving their worth in battle, or at least a worthy pursuit of some sort. Back in the day, most of this involved dragons. Chief Ryar won the hearts of the people not only by being part of a clan well-known for raising and training dragons, but also by being a renowned dragonrider, one who tamed his dragon himself. A worthy feat in all of Jin-Sayeng’s eyes.”

“Your clan was one of those who rebelled against Chief Ryar’s position as Dragonlord.”

“Of course we did,” he replied brightly. “The Kyo clan didn’t worship dragons like the rest of you did. They had their uses, of course, but we saw them for what they were: beasts of burden, nothing more. Do you not see how Kyo-orashi soldiered on while everyone else in the east crumbled? We didn’t pin our hopes and dreams on the existence of dragons.

“But still, we understood the significance. After your own glorious ancestor chastised mine severely, our clan came to realize how dragons can symbolize power, and why someone like Rysaran the Uncrowned could become so convinced that simply owning one would mean the difference between life and death for the nation.”

“Not that I don’t agree with you, Warlord San,” I said. “On any other day, I’d even drink with you on it. But today, I just feel like you’re making a joke at my expense. If your soldiers hadn’t confiscated my sword, you’d both be dead on top of those shells.”

San whistled for a servant. “The lady requires her blade,” he said.

I struggled to keep my mouth shut as the servant rushed out. She was back before I could form any coherent thoughts, all but tripping on a chair in her haste to deliver me the proffered item. It was the Zarojo sword Agos had stolen from the temple and gifted me for my nameday.

Expecting a trick, I took it with shaky fingers. I drew it from the scabbard and observed that it had been cleaned and sharpened. There was also a fresh coat of oil on the leather hilt, likely applied while we were having our meal. I wiped my hands on my trousers and glanced back at San, who was still grinning. “Well,” he said. “You were just speaking about running me through.”

I flushed as my bluff was called out. “You’ve got my attention. What do you want?”

“Since you’re so kind to ask, about two or three women with alabaster skin and luscious red lips—”

I sheathed the sword. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re right. At my age, maybe just two—”

“Let’s start with the dragons,” I said. “Do you want me to tame one?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Qun drawled.

San grinned. “Tame? Ah—you’ve just come from the Sougen. You’ve been talking to the Anyus.” He waved his hand. “Nothing so drastic, I assure you. We caught a dragon wandering out along the plains some time ago. Not a huge thing—small, but vicious enough. Rysaran would’ve gone into convulsions if he had seen the thing. I simply want you to slay it.”

A few ready responses flittered through me. I settled on the most diplomatic one. “You buffoon.”

“Careful there,” San said, lifting one brow. “People may think you’re being unreasonable.”

“You’re the one who just asked me to slay a dragon for entertainment!”

“And you’re the one in my lands,” he reminded me coolly. “Let’s not split hairs over this. It’s not a big creature. It could maybe fit in—oh, that kitchen over there. With the kind of training you Oren-yaro go through, I’m sure it won’t be a problem. We’ll provide you with all the weaponry you need.”

“How about twenty archers equipped with the largest bows you can find?”

He smiled. “One-on-one combat.”

“I’m sorry—buffoon was too kind. You’re both madmen.”

San chuckled. “I’ve been called worse things. Look, Lady Talyien. I’ll be honest with you. I have no desire to keep you here any longer than I have to. Once the word gets out, sooner or later one of the other warlords or even your own vassals from Oren-yaro will come riding in to rescue you. Dying in a sea of blood is on the bottom of my priorities.”

“It won’t come to that if we play our cards right,” Qun said. “Kill this dragon. And then declare war on the Ikessars.”

“And you’ve got enough men to hold against every warlord who desires to contest us?” I replied.

“With Kyo-orashi and Oren-yaro forces backed by Prince Yuebek, the land will fold in a matter of time.”

“I see,” I said, glancing at Warlord San. He was chewing his moustache as Qun spoke. “You’re prepared for this, I suppose. These reinforcements won’t come overnight. Or have you grown fat and senile over the years?”

San didn’t even flinch at the insult. “I like you, Lady Talyien. Always have. Have I ever shown you anything but honour and respect in the past? When Prince Rayyel abandoned you for reasons unknown, I kept my mouth shut, choosing to let you prove yourself as a capable ruler in your own time. Oh, they all had their misgivings, and I wouldn’t be lying if I told you more than half of your lords have been sitting on the sidelines, waiting to see you fail. But while others may disagree, your rule has been good for me. Profitable, even. Our apiaries have been yielding good honey, and our fishing boats have returned full every season. Clearly, the gods favour you. Yes—we will throw our swords behind you.” He said this looking straight at me, with nary a glance at Qun.

I very nearly laughed. “Me. Are you sure, Warlord San?”

He gestured at my sword. “But first you must prove your worth. Slay the dragon.”

I shook my head. “Madman,” I repeated.

“In this land, we are all mad,” he replied. “You want to know how your father nearly won his war? He was madder than the rest of us put together.”

“A dragon.” I smiled. “All right,” I finally said. “But you better hope I die quickly, because if I live to sit on that throne again, I may just have your head for this insolence.”

His reply was a booming laugh, one that could’ve been heard across the sea.

The prospect of facing a dragon shouldn’t have scared me as much as it did. I had faced too many in the last year alone, and managed to survive every encounter with all my limbs and my sanity intact. But you don’t live through dragon attacks only to throw yourself at yet another. I would have been perfectly happy never meeting the damn creatures again in my life.

My unease was multiplied by Qun’s presence and because there was no one I could turn to who didn’t seem to have his own hand in the rice pot. Warlord San might have claimed I was a guest, but he had certainly done his part to make sure his servants kept quiet about my arrival in the region. No fanfare greeted me in Kyo-orashi. In fact, we waited until it was late at night to stride through the gates, and the guards who met us seemed to avoid looking at me altogether. Rumours of where I really could be still permeated the palace gossip. The very servants who led me to my room were talking about how there had been sightings of me in Kai to the northeast, or even up in the islands of Meiokara.

But at least I had a room, where clean clothes were laid out for me. Another servant arrived to take me to the baths. I had not had luxury of that sort for months—Dai Kaggawa’s people, perhaps surprisingly for someone as prosperous as him, washed themselves with cold water straight from the pump—and I allowed the servant to strip me down and scrub me from head to toe. Under orders by Warlord San, no doubt. She didn’t refer to me by name, but I suppose it was enough that I was a royal.

I returned to the room, where the servant left me to dress myself. I recognized the view from the window—a small outcrop of islands in the distance—and realized that this was the same room I had stayed in the last time I was here. Back then, there had been a feast—one of the warlords had casually mentioned Rai and harsh words were exchanged. I remember leaving Arro behind and storming up here while my handmaids walked on eggshells around me. “Will you be returning to the party, my queen? Will you require a change of jewellery?”

I had sent them out with a roar before locking the door, which did little to dampen the music below. Later, Arro came by, announcing his presence with three knocks. “Are you well, my queen?” I never thought about it then, but he always said queen differently. Most people said it with respect; Arro said it with love.

“No,” I remember replying.

He opened the door, shuffling inside with small steps. “Well,” he continued after gazing at me for a moment. “You look well. I suppose that’s all that matters tomorrow morning, when you have to face them again. You are aware that Warlord Graiyo enjoys irritating you. Try not to give him more ammunition.”

“How am I supposed to do a good job of this when people don’t even start by giving me a chance?”

Arro was silent for a few moments. “The problem,” he finally replied, “is in thinking that you are entitled to chances. You do or you don’t, my queen.”

“And if I don’t?”

“If you don’t,” he said, “you die trying.” He was a true Oren-yaro, Arro, even though he was half a foreigner and his mother was a Kaitan. I should have never let him die.

But did you ever consider that I would die trying by dragon-fire, Arro?

I went to bed, wrapped up in silken sheets while the sound of the waves crashed on the cliffs underneath me.

A servant came by the next morning. I washed my face in a basin, changed out of my sleeping clothes, and was led out of the hall, where another servant appeared to ask how I would like my breakfast. I asked for a drink of water and nothing more. The last thing I wanted was to be heaving my guts out in front of an entire arena.

They gave me herbal tea instead, to calm me. Maybe Warlord San was being presumptuous—I didn’t think I looked nervous. Afterwards, they brought me to the armoury, where I spent the better part of the hour looking through various pieces. The image of a dragon crunching through a thick piece of scale armour and then leaving me to bleed inside a cage of sharp, twisted metal made me recoil towards the leather. I needed maneuverability, anyway. There was no sense trying to meet a dragon’s attack head-on—avoidance was my best defense.

For my weapon, I picked a spear and kept my sword. I lingered at the selection of bows, the craftsmanship of which was one of the things the Kyo clan prided themselves with. Dropping a dragon before it got close to me would be nice, but I had never been a good shot. Making a fool of myself by fumbling around with a bow and arrow—especially in front of this crowd—was probably not what San had in mind.

No, I told myself. You have to face the damn thing. Not that I put much thought on Warlord San’s rationale—a leader should be able to command respect, dragon or no. How often had my father preached against the sort of madness that consumed Rysaran? Still, San had promised a small dragon, one that would’ve been weakened by its time in captivity. Certainly nothing compared with the wild dragons I had faced in the Sougen. I just needed to use my wits, control my nerves, and use my surroundings to my advantage. Perhaps I could trap it somewhere. I knew now that it needed momentum while in the air to stoke the flames inside its belly, so if I could keep it grounded, pin it down the way I did last time, I might have a chance.

I reconsidered my equipment and took an extra spear.

Warlord San’s people had been thoroughly informed of the whole situation. Every step seemed rehearsed. No one made small talk around me or even questioned what was happening. From the palace, they led me down a long, narrow hallway, which opened up into a stone tunnel. The far end was lit with torches. A guard came up to check my equipment and to ensure that my armour was strapped on properly. From behind the giant wooden door, I heard the thunder of what sounded like thousands of people cheering.

“Warm-up sessions,” the guard said to my confused expression. “Don’t worry—you’re the main attraction. Shifted in at the last moment. We didn’t think anyone would actually take it. I know the prize money is big and all, but a dragon! You’re a braver woman than most.”

I gave him what I thought was my most foolhardy smile. “Maybe I just don’t know enough to be scared. Have you seen it?”

He patted my shoulders. “I saw the first. Bony little thing—not much fit for a battle. It’s been sick the last few days. Good thing we found a new one before Warlord San found out, especially now that we’ve learned he actually got someone to take the offer—”

“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “What do you mean a new one?”

The guard clinked his helmet. “The first dragon wouldn’t eat. Wolves and wildcats have no problems feeding on carrion, but I think it wanted clean prey. It’s been listlessly lying at the end of its chain—can barely move—and we didn’t want to tell Warlord San until we found a replacement. As luck would have it, they found this new one wandering around the foothills near Natu. They brought it in just this morning.”

“And you haven’t exactly seen this other dragon?”

“No. But I wouldn’t worry—the men said it was big and vicious enough. You’ll have plenty enough beast to sate your lust.”

“That’s not really what I was worried about.”

A gong sounded from the arena. “That’s your signal,” the guard said, stepping to the side to lift the bar. “May the gods keep your sword sharp and your aim steady.” Before I could say anything else, they pushed me through. I heard the doors slam shut behind me.

The sun was in my eye. I lifted my hand to shade my sight and realized I was now standing on one end of a rectangular pit, covered with a near-transparent roof membrane of some sort. The crowd was seated above me from every corner. At the far end was a closed platform, where I could make out the figure of Warlord San as he stood on the edge of the railing, arms outstretched.

“And now, to grace our arena and attempt to slay a dragon to prove her worth,” he said, his voice booming, “may I present Lady Talyien aren dar Orenar, rightful ruler of Oren-yaro and claimant to the Dragonthrone, council be damned.” He turned to me with a grin.

The crowd fell silent.

It was the absurdity of the situation that caused it. Under any other circumstances, I could tell that they would’ve been inclined to disbelieve it. Right behind Warlord San, Qun was sitting as an honoured guest in a semi-closed platform with his soldiers. I also spotted a few robed lords among the crowd, most of them very close to the front. Only the banners of Natu and Meiokara, Kyo-orashi’s neighbouring cities, floated above the seats, which meant that Warlord San hadn’t planned this more than a few days in advance.

The certainty, even amusement, in his voice said it all: it was his plan to reveal me as a surprise all along. The queen of Jin-Sayeng’s triumphant return after slaying a dragon—and who else was responsible for her rise to glory but the Warlord of Kyo-orashi himself? Absurd and brilliant. I was starting to think that madness was a necessary component for a successful ruler. It certainly seemed to work for Yuebek. I wonder if Qun was aware of all of this. I doubted it—he wasn’t Jinsein. San’s subtle manipulations would’ve flown over his head completely. No—Qun wasn’t as much in control as he thought he was. San was playing him somehow.

The thought gave me renewed energy. I hefted the spears in my hand and made my way to where the royals could see me better. I wasn’t wearing a helmet, and the royals among the crowd recognized me. The silence turned to cries of outrage. The royals began to demand San remove me from the arena at once.

“My lords and ladies of Kyo-orashi!” I called out. “Why the pandemonium? Do you not want to see me crushed between the teeth of a dragon this fine morning?”

I clambered up the stone platform nearby, one of the many scattered among the pit. The steps were already slick with blood from the earlier fights. “My lords and ladies of Jin-Sayeng,” I continued, the words bubbling through my throat as if they had a life of their own. “Is this the best greeting you could give the queen you chose? I spent months trapped in the Empire of Ziri-nar-Orxiaro with no assistance from any of the royal clans. Yet here I am now, ready to kill a dragon to prove to you that I am more than what you say I am. More than Lord Rayyel’s unfaithful wife, more than Warlord Yeshin’s bitch whelp! At least stay and watch the show! Warlord Graiyo!” I lifted my spear and pointed it at the audience.

The pale-faced warlord of Natu turned on his heels. His wife, whom I recognized by the atrocious amount of paint she loved to apply, gawked at me.

“You would turn your back on me?” I asked, feigning shock.

“Enough of this farce, this play, whatever this is. You are not queen,” Graiyo replied. “I don’t know why Warlord San would go to such lengths, but it’s no matter to me. The council wants you. I intend to send a message to inform them of your presence in this city at once.”

“And here I thought you’d be the first to want to see me fed to a dragon,” I said. “I’ll be gone by the time the council gets here, one way or another. Unless—” I stabbed the spear in the air. “Perhaps you’d rather fight me yourself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Graiyo snorted. “We all know the Lady Oren-yaro is an unrefined, uncouth woman who would be more at home on a battlefield with her soldiers.” He laughed. A handful of his lords and ladies followed suit.

“Warlord San himself reminded me recently that in the old days, a warlord achieved his position by proving his worth in battle,” I said. “Of course, Warlord Yeshin’s treaty with the Ikessars was too effective. It seems as if most of you have gone fat and soft.”

This time, it was San’s booming laugh that echoed through the arena. “Oh,” San managed, after regaining his composure. “Do take the challenge, Warlord Graiyo. A duel would be most welcome on this fine day.”

“I’ve been wanting to beat that golden helmet into your skull for years,” I added.

“I refuse to entertain this nonsense,” Graiyo hissed. He started to walk away again.

“If I’m at home on the battlefield, then let it be said that Warlord Graiyo belongs in a dress shop!” I called to his retreating back. “And Akaterru knows, it would still be an insult to the seamstresses!”

The crowd parted as Graiyo and his retinue disappeared through the doors. I turned back to the remaining royals. “One down,” I said. “Any of you want to try your luck here with me?”

They stared in silence. If madness was the route I was going for, I was doing a damn good job. The fear in their eyes had a touch more panic than usual.

“If we’re done talking…” Warlord San broke in.

“I’m bored. Bring the bastard out,” I droned.

San nodded towards his guards. The gong sounded a second time. I checked my spears and my sword, noting that somewhere during the entire process of addressing Warlord Graiyo and the rest of the crowd, my fear had all but dissipated. My every movement was smooth, unhampered by nerves, and I was almost excited to see the dragon.

I heard gates creak open from the far end. The dragon came barrelling like a bull and my heart sank.

It was Lord Eikaro.

The black dragon was gaunter than the last time I had seen him, as if he hadn’t eaten since. I felt my whole body grow limp. The spear I had been holding with confidence this whole time suddenly felt like a red-hot poker. I wanted to drop it—I had no desire to kill Lord Eikaro, not after what he had done for me. Not for a mere throne.

I made my way down the steps to meet him. “My lord—” I began.

The dragon continued running towards me with an open mouth. I swung my spear out, dodging just in time. He crashed into the platform, sending loose rocks spraying. He turned.

“Lord Eikaro!” I called out again. I could barely hear myself above the sound of the cheering crowd. The dragon snapped his teeth, black scales quivering. I knew I wasn’t mistaken—it was the same dragon, that very same head. Only…

His eyes were black.

They had been yellow with black slits when this body contained the original dragon and the corrupted soul, and then brown and human-like when it was Lord Eikaro speaking to me. Now they were just black, and I gained the impression that he wasn’t seeing me so much as he was reacting to my presence.

I made an arc with my spear and began to walk around him. He watched me like a wild animal, a creature wary of a hunter who had dared step too close, before he spread his wings and flamed. It was a weak fire, no bigger than a torchlight; I rolled out of the way and half-heartedly jabbed at his exposed belly with the tip of the spear. He smacked the weapon with such force that it broke.

The crowd cheered louder.

I was down one spear now, and I still had no plan. I managed to avoid the dragon’s tail and found myself standing close—too close. His jaws came snapping again and I hurled myself onto the familiar shape of his back.

He flapped his wings and tried to make his way to the ceiling. My body swayed with the motion and I felt as if a club had come swinging down on my skull. I tried to gather my senses, grabbing onto the scales of his neck for dear life just as he reached the end of his chain.

“Eikaro,” I tried again, getting close to his head. I thought that if he heard my voice, it would be enough. “Eikaro, it’s me, Talyien. Snap out of it, Eikaro. Remember? You said you were going to fight it. Lord—”

The dragon turned his head and grabbed me by the shoulder, his teeth catching on the cloth of my sleeve. He flung me halfway across the arena. I crashed into the ground. If he had been flying any higher, I would’ve smashed into a thousand pieces. Not that it didn’t feel like it. I struggled to get up, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I glanced down and realized the dragon’s teeth had punctured my flesh. The jolting pain was spreading throughout my arms and down my fingers.

But there was no time to think about the damage it had caused. The dragon had returned to the ground and was lumbering towards me once more. I forced myself to draw my sword. Even just wrapping my fingers around the slippery hilt felt difficult—I could feel the blood pulsing around the swollen flesh on my shoulder, and my fingers were tingling. I faced the realization that there was no way on earth I could fend off another attack. My mind began to run through my decisions. Couldn’t I have tried something else? Had I really come out here just to die?

The crowd’s roar had become deafening.

I took a step back, keeping my eye on the dragon’s jaws. My head was spinning. I felt like if he didn’t kill me in the next instant, I was going to black out, anyway.

The gong sounded a third time. The ground began to shake. Before I realized what was happening, bars shot up from the floor just as the dragon lunged at me. His body battered on the iron barrier.

Although I had been trained never to turn my back on an opponent, I found myself gazing up to Warlord San for an explanation.