CHAPTER 52
Butu took a step back, closer to Tirud, Phedam and Jani. “Why? Our orders are to make Jusep king.”
Blay met their shocked stares one by one. “Only for a little while — long enough to bring Pisor safely to Jusep. It’s the only way to save the Ahjea.”
“You expect me to make you king only to unmake you? You know how that will end,” Butu said.
“Yes.” Blay’s eyelid twitched.
“Do you want to die?” Jani asked.
Blay set his jaw. “I am the servant of the Ahjea. I will die gladly for my clan, if it is necessary.”
“That’s not the same as wanting to die.” Jani buried her hands in her armpits, her eyes wide at his words.
Butu felt disgusted. “I’d sooner Pisor fall into Akdren hands than make you king, Blay.”
How can I tell you, Blay? Butu thought of the Urgarun infants around them, of the city and the Wail and all the other terrible things a king’s wrath had wrought. I don’t want to make the kind of king who would do something like that.
“How can you say that?” Blay sounded wounded to the core.
He isn’t a bad person. If he really wanted to be king, he could’ve killed me and had Lujo make him king. But if he were my king, he would keep secrets from me. He’d lie to me about important things the way Philquek lied to Amber about not executing us.
Butu raised Pisor. “If I make you king, I can see only two results. You might keep your word of honor and lay down your life to bring Pisor to Jusep. But if you’re loyal enough to die for the Ahjea, I know you well enough to know you’ll make sure I die with you so Jusep can choose a new kingmaker.”
“You’re a sordenu, Butu.” The corporal grimly pushed his sword back. “You must be willing to sacrifice everything for the Ahjea. The kluntra might reward you by letting you remain kingmaker. It’s not my decision to make, nor is it my place to question the decision.”
Butu waved the argument aside. “The second possibility is you’ll decide to remain king. You’re ambitious, Blay. We know that.”
“I’m a loyal sordenu,” Blay said firmly, one hand reaching up for his goatee.
Retus? Probably not old enough, and he’s too inexperienced to be a good kingmaker. Phedam? He knows war and is smart enough to learn the rest, but he’s too much of a follower for the job.
“I’m not going to make a king just to unmake one,” Butu announced. He stepped away from Blay so he could see Tirud and Jani as clearly. Jani’s hands clasped at her side, and Tirud looked ready to run. “You’re all my squadmates and my friends, and I’d rather die than kill any of you.”
Tirud is a teacher and a natural leader, but he’s also a spy, and I don’t know much about his life before he joined our squad. That leaves Jani. She’s old enough and understands Pisor as well as I do. She also knows politics better than I do.
Butu walked around him and stood before Jani. He held the sword up, resting it in the palms of his hands, which still bled freely. Sweat appeared on her forehead. Butu hesitated.
Am I just picking her because I’ve already eliminated the others, because she and I had ... have feelings for each other?
“Jani. No one deserves the power of Pisor as much as you do,” Butu said. “Rule well, Queen Jani pi’Ahjea.”
Tirud frowned as Jani took a step backward, shaking her head violently. “No, Butu. This is a bad choice.”
“Shanubu, it is,” Blay muttered, but he didn’t intercede.
Butu frowned in confusion. “What? How? This makes sense. Even though you’re a ku, Jusep won’t object because he still thinks of you as his brother’s daughter. You’re smart, and you know politics better than anyone here. Who would make a better queen than you?”
Jani shook her head. “We’ve known each other since we could walk! We’ve been friends, sweethearts and squadmates. I’m not comfortable with the…relationship you’re offering me. You’ll have an obligation to kill me if I become a tyrant, and I’m sorry if that doesn’t appeal to me.” She put her hands resolutely behind her. “No, I’m not sorry, actually.”
“But you won’t do that! I know you better than that, Jani,” Butu pleaded, thrusting the sword at her. She stepped away from him. “I wouldn’t offer it to you if I doubted you.”
“Butu, enough,” Tirud said, stepping between them and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You found Pisor, so you have a right to choose who becomes king, but can’t force someone to do it. Jani has made her choice, and whether or not you agree with it, you must not reject it.”
“You’re saying I don’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Butu, but so do the ones you offer to make king.” He leaned in close to Butu’s ear. “I heard your promise to Amber.”
Butu looked up at the red-skinned sordenu, who removed his hand from Butu. “Would you help me keep my promise, Tirud?”
“Promise? What are you talking about, Butu?” Blay asked.
Tirud licked his lips nervously, staring at the sword. In his face, Butu saw desire and fear, and most importantly, understanding. He nodded once, sharply.
“And if I offered you Pisor, would you accept it?” Butu asked, lifting Pisor. “Would you rule as king, if you had that choice? Would you put an end to this war and prevent others like it?”
Tirud wrenched his gaze from the unremarkable sword, looking around at everyone. Fear warred with pride behind his eyes.
Please, he thought. If it’s not you, we’re not leaving here alive, and thousands of Turu will die before the day is done.
Tirud froze, suddenly, looking at something behind Butu. Then the emotions melted, coalesced into something Butu couldn’t quite name. His posture straightened, and he turned back to Butu.
“Yes,” he said. “I will be king.”
His hand closed around Pisor’s plain hilt, and Butu’s Turun sight returned instantly, causing him to let out a sigh to match everyone else’s.
He stepped away as Tirud lifted the sword and looked down its blade, noting every mar and imperfection. Butu half-expected him to explode or start glowing, but he just stood there, blinking and staring at the sword with an awe out of proportion to its dull appearance.
“How do you feel?” Lujo asked, breaking the silence.
Tirud blinked, and tears fell from his eyes. His face looked a cycle younger as he smiled.
“I feel like a king,” he said in a hushed voice. Then he straightened even more and held Pisor high over his head, face a mask of exhilaration. “I feel like a king!” he cried, and with a great booming roar, all the infants in their cribs exploded into clouds of dust and became a whirlwind around him.
Butu shivered.
“Long live the king!” Lujo cried, and the others took up the cry.