“Now you flatter me, Master Anturasi.” She shot him a gaze that did send a flutter through his stomach. “Toward what end, I wonder?”
Keles widened his eyes. “Oh, my lady, you do not think I mean to seduce you and despoil your honor? I could never do that. What sort of guest would I be to Prince Pyrust were I to use one of his citizens so?”
“I do not take offense, Master Anturasi.”
“Oh, but you should, my lady.” Keles turned his head so he could not see her. “You come here as a friend, knowing I am lonely and far from home. You play for me, seeking to make me feel better and . . . The truth is, my lady, that a part of me may indeed have been trying to seduce you. A dark, dishonorable part. I’m sorry. You are kind when you say you take no offense, but I know you must be shocked.”
“Truly, Master Anturasi, I understand.” She set her instrument aside and rose from her knees. “I can see the pain you are in. The longing: for home, for friends, for confidants, for a kind touch . . .”
He held a hand up to stop her. “No, Lady Inyr, you mustn’t. It’s all true what you say. You have defined my weakness perfectly. And you, a true friend, would help me.”
“I wish to be more than your friend, Master Anturasi.” The warmth and underlying hunger in her voice would have made him succumb, were he not well aware she was a spy in his household. “I, too, feel loneliness, the need for the touch of a friend . . .”
“No, my lady. No.” Keles shook his head, still refusing to look at her. “You are a sympathetic soul. You empathize with me, but at your peril. Your Prince has told me I will be sent home at the end of six months, perhaps sooner. I would be weak and use you, but you deserve more, so much more.”
She said nothing, letting the rustle of her silk robe speak for her. She reached out and touched his hand. “Perhaps, Master Anturasi, I would be permitted to leave with you.”
A Desei spy in Anturasikun? Even if I were madly in love with her, that would not be possible.
Keles jerked his hand back. “Don’t say that, my lady.”
“Would it be so horrible?”
“For you, yes. To be ripped from your home and settled in an alien city where you would be viewed with suspicion or pity or both? To have no life save for existing in Anturasikun? I remember the day I met you, in the gardens here. I could never see you captive in my family’s tower. Though I might desire it, it would kill you.
“No, you best go now. Hurry, my lady, before my resolve evaporates. Go now, quickly, I beg of you.”
“As you wish, Master Anturasi.” She walked swiftly to the door, slid it open, and stepped through, but paused a moment to look back before closing it. The moment it closed again, he glanced to the corner where she had been sitting and saw her necyl and bow still there.
And now she has a reason to return.
He devoutly wished she would not. He’d not slept well, having had another dream about his sister in some faraway paradise. She seemed happy enough, but spoke only nonsense about the Sleeping Empress. Something about the dream made it feel more like a nightmare, and he feared his sister was in some sort of danger.
A light rap came at the door, and that surprised him, for while he’d expected her to come back, he’d not expected her return so quickly. He turned toward the door, but before he could offer permission to enter, the door slid back. Princess Jasai entered and shut it behind her.
Keles slipped from his chair to his knees and bowed. “Greetings, Princess Jasai.”
“And you, Master Anturasi. I have come to see the plans you have prepared.” The Princess kept her voice loud for the benefit of the ears on the other side of the room’s thin walls. “Has there been much progress?”
Keles answered in kind. “I’m delighted to show you what I have done.”
Jasai rose and crossed to his table. She shot a glance at the necyl, then shook her head.
Keles smiled and returned to his chair. Jasai joined him at the table. She smelled of roses, for she had a bhotcai whose skill was sufficient to grow the flowers year-round—even through the fierce Desei winter. Keles had never really cared one way or the other for roses, but the scent suited her perfectly—beautiful, but thorny.
“As you can see, Highness, the new residences are fairly far along. All that delays them is the need for building stones, which are slow to come from the quarries.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Jasai lowered her voice. “It is as you guessed. The strongest among the people are being culled from the work gangs. I don’t know yet where they are going.”
“He won’t hint?”
She shook her head. “I’ve not seen him for three days.” She raised her voice again. “I meant to compliment you on how the building debris has been used to create berms for separating fields.”
“It preserves rich earth, Highness, and allows us to segregate fields for flooding in years of drought.” He glanced at her, again softening his voice. “If he has departed, vigilance will slacken.”
“Save for that woman. She gave me a very satisfied smile as she passed me. Did you enjoy her?”
Keles shook his head. “Nor do I have any intention of it.”
Jasai smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Good.”
“Let me show you these new sketches, Highness.” Keles shifted paper about, knowing his papers would be examined while he was out of the room to see if the two of them communicated in some manner that had been undetected. He’d already examined the paper closely and found one set of tiny marks on it. He was certain all the paper stock was inventoried, and if any of it was found missing, the Desei would grow suspicious.
Jasai did not move her hand and Keles didn’t mind at all. In fact, he liked it. He and Jasai had much in common. They were prisoners both of Prince Pyrust and of their bloodlines. They wanted to escape and knew it would be difficult. They also had nations they loved that were the focus of her husband’s plans, and anything they could do to forestall those plans would be wonderful.
Keles had also become aware that Jasai would willingly accept him into her bed to forge their alliance more tightly. The differences between what she was willing to do and what Inyr wanted were vast, however. Jasai would be acting of her own free will and clearly doing what was in her best interest. Since her interest was tied so closely with his, it would be to his benefit as well. Inyr, on the other hand, was an agent of the state, and what she did would only be of benefit to the state. There his interests and hers diverged sharply, which was more than sufficient reason for him to stay away from her.
But though the Princess would have made herself available to him, Keles did not avail himself of her charms. Her pregnancy didn’t concern him—his mother had explained the mysteries of pregnancy to all of her children in sufficient detail that they knew what was safe and what was not. As a skilled botanist, she also concocted many potions and tinctures to prevent or enhance fertility, or even to rid someone of its consequences.
He’d found one of Jasai’s thorns when he’d commented that it would be easy enough for her to lose Pyrust’s child if she hated him so. She’d turned on him, icy blue eyes ablaze, and fought to keep her voice down. “This child is not just his, it is mine as well. He wants an heir with a claim to the Dog Throne, and now I have an heir with a claim to the Hawk Throne. Just because I hate him, it does not mean I hate my child. If love and hate are but faces on the same coin, then the hate goes to him, and the love to my child. You will not speak of this again, Master Anturasi.”
He had apologized and she had accepted it, but things had remained icy for a couple of days. She never apologized for her reaction, and he knew she never would. She had, however, realized his comment had not been a malicious one, just something innocently helpful. He did take care after that, however, to hold his tongue until he had worked through the various ramifications of what he was going to say.
“If you look here, Highness, I have laid out a new pattern for the garden. While I am a cartographer, my mother worked with f
lowers and plants, so I appreciate her art. Each bed would represent one of the nine, and the flowers would blossom in the national colors.”
“Yes, but it would be a bad omen were one nation or another to become overgrown with weeds, would it not?” She squeezed his shoulder, then whispered to him, “I believe the Desei are going to attack Helosunde, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it. Even if the Council of Ministers knew it was coming, I doubt there is anything they could or even would do to stop it.”
“The ministers?” Keles frowned. “They are functionaries, nothing more.”
She laughed lightly. “You are lucky if you can believe that, Keles. Because of your grandfather and the power he wielded, the bureaucracy could do very little to interfere with your life.
“In my nation, however, the ministers were able to take power. While they have done things like elect my brother as the Prince, they chose him because he was weak. When the last prince died, the nation passed to their stewardship, and they had grown tired of being the power behind the throne. Instead of hiding behind a prince, they cloak themselves in patriotic pieties and claim what they do is for the benefit of Helosunde. And, yet, nothing they have done has won back a single inch of Helosunde.”
“They would have done better to elect you, Princess.”
She nodded, her blonde hair a shower of gold over her shoulders. “They dared not, for I would have been too strong for them.”
Keles looked up at her and smiled. He had no doubt she was right about the ministers. She’s strong-willed enough to be a match for my grandfather!
“You know, if we try to escape and fail, they will kill us.”
She nodded. “There is no guarantee they won’t kill us at any time my husband desires, or his Mother of Shadows decides we have outlived our usefulness.” Jasai ran a hand over her stomach. “My child will be born in the month of the Rat. After that, my life is worthless.”
Keles grinned ruefully. “I don’t think I’ve got even that long.”
“And our chances to escape end even sooner. Once I begin to show, my ability to escape dwindles.”
“I know, but I’ve been thinking.” He tapped his plans of the city. “The Black River will flood sometime in the next six weeks. We make it out of here by then, or we’re never getting away.”
Chapter Thirty
21st day, Month of the Dragon, Year of the Rat
10th Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court
163rd Year of the Komyr Dynasty
737th year since the Cataclysm
The Plains before Moryne
(Helosunde) Deseirion
Clad in black armor, with a golden hawk emblazoned on his breastplate, standing on a hill and flanked by two banners that proclaimed his presence, Prince Pyrust watched the battle unfold on the plains below. To the southwest, far in the distance, he could see the grey smudge that marked Moryne—the city that had once been Helosunde’s capital. The cream of Helosundian martial glory—save those troops in service to the Naleni throne—had arrayed themselves in a formation across his line of march and advanced.
Their intent, it seemed, was to drive his line’s center backward until they could overrun his hill, taking him, his banners, and freeing themselves from the Desei yoke forever. He had no doubt many of them dreamed of pushing further, taking Felarati and making Deseirion their plaything. If he lost this battle, he would die. His country would die and his people would suffer.
And that cannot be allowed to happen.
A casual glance at the battlefield, however, would have suggested that that was exactly what would happen. Until four days previous, his Fire Hawk battalion had been the garrison in Moryne. Following his orders, they gathered up all the grain they could find transport for and began a retreat toward Meleswin. Helosundian rebels, having long since learned of the horrible harvest in Deseirion, accepted the rumors that food riots were the reason for recalling the troops and bringing their rice north. They decided they could strike a fierce blow against their conqueror by attacking the Fire Hawks and preventing the rice from leaving Helosunde.
Pyrust had expected a lot of opposition, but the number of troops arrayed against him had surprised him. He’d been able to move two entire regiments southwest from Meleswin—including the Fire Hawks, though he kept the Iron Hawks and Silver Hawks in reserve behind the hill. For all intents and purposes it looked as if he had just under a thousand troops at his command.
The rebels had amassed a force roughly three times that size. Pyrust recognized a number of banners in the rabble—primarily because the originals were displayed in Felarati. The reconstituted units might have laid claim to Helosundian tradition, but many of the soldiers had clearly come to battle with little training and weaponry more suited to agriculture than warfare. One whole battalion held in reserve appeared to be unarmed, but by the time they came to the fight, there would be ample arms to be recovered from the battlefield.
He had no idea who commanded the enemy force, and the absence of a clear command post buoyed his spirits. It appeared as if the Helosundians had been roughly divided into three parts—right, left, and center—each under its own commander. The center, which was set to engage his best troops, had more of the seasoned warriors. Despite their inexperience, the wings could easily encircle his force and, once it had done that, turn his flanks and win the day.
He shook his head. He hoped it was one of the Council of Ministers that sought to fight the battle against him. Bureaucrats repeatedly governed their actions in accord with Urmyr’s Books of Wisdom, but they seemed to have forgotten he’d once been a general for Emperor Taichun. He’d written another treatise based on his experiences on the battlefield titled The Dance of War, and Pyrust found his teachings of great comfort.
A battle is won before the first arrow flies or the first sword cuts.
The Helosundians had come northeast expecting to ambush one battalion, so when morning dawned and they discovered that the Desei were not moving on, but had drawn up in a battle line and had been reinforced, they scrambled to prepare for battle. In their hasty pursuit, they had not brought much with them by way of provisions, thinking they would soon liberate the rice and feast. The Fire Hawks had always pushed on faster than the Helosundians, forcing them to march longer than they had any desire to do. As a result, they came to the battle tired and hungry.
His troops, on the other hand, were for the most part rested, well fed, and well trained. He did not doubt that each of them felt fear when they looked at the mob surging toward them. There would be jokes, about how each only had to kill three of the dogs and he could retire for the day, but each knew these Helosundian Dogs would take a fair amount of killing.
He’d arrayed his troops with the Golden Hawks to the fore. The Mountain Hawks and Fire Hawks were positioned to the right and left respectively, drawn back, with their flanks overlapping the Golden Hawk rear. The Shadow Hawks were right behind the Golden Hawks.
Pyrust snapped open a black fan with a large red ball emblazoned on it. He raised it above his head, flashing the symbol, then turned it edge on to the troops, and brought his hand straight down.
Commanders in the Shadow Hawks shouted orders. The Golden Hawks spread their rear ranks and the Shadow Hawks ran forward. They nocked arrows, drew, and loosed, rank after rank, into the Helosunde center. Each arrow found a mark, and while a few stuck in shields or skipped off armor, most sank to the fletching into flesh, and men fell screaming.
The Helosundian archers replied, but it was a whisper to what had been a shout. Some of his Hawks did fall when arrows found gaps in armor, but many of the Helosundian bows lacked the power they needed to penetrate armor. My men are not peahens to be stuck so easily.
The Shadow Hawks loosed another four volleys, thinning the ranks of the Helosundian center, then stopped and retreated. He didn’t know if the leaders on the other side understood the significance of five volleys, but five months hence it would be the month of the Dog, Helosunde’s month, and h
e had chosen to honor them that way.
Honor them before he slaughtered them.
Pyrust waited as his wounded and dead were evacuated. The other side closed ranks, squeezing the center. This he had expected, for what general would not do that? The Helosundian center had been its strength, but now it had become its weakness. The trained troops moved forward to fill in the front line, while the back ranks on the wings flowed toward the middle to take up the empty space.
Which moves them further from the battle than they want to be if they are to be effective.
He raised his fan again, displaying the red ball. He flipped it front and back, showing both sides, then brought it down to wave at the Helosundian lines. Orders were shouted below and the Shadow Hawks, in disarray, shifted behind the Fire Hawks on the right. The Golden Hawks moved forward, opening a gap between them and their supporting units. Their advance slowed as the Golden Hawks realized they had no support, then they began to retreat.
The Helosundians charged.
Barely fifty yards separated the two forces, but the Golden Hawk retreat stretched that distance. The Fire Hawks and Mountain Hawks started to pull back, too, shortening the Desei lines. Both Helosundian wings charged faster, trying to make sure they would all engage the Desei at the same time, but their flank companies never could quite catch up.
When the Golden Hawk flanks again touched the other units, orders were snapped and the retreat stopped. His soldiers tightened their ranks and set their spears. The Helosundians came on, slowing not out of fear but out of exhaustion. Batting aside spears, men smashed into the Desei line. Swords battered shields, clubs smashed limbs, swords stabbed deep, and screaming men rose into the air impaled on spears.
Pyrust lofted his fan into the air, letting it spin end over end. It slowed, then began to fall again, whirling down like a maple seed. The Helosundians, mistaking this gesture for one of surrender, shouted with great hope.
False hope.
Black arrows arced out from the Shadow Hawks, cutting down the ranks pressing the Desei center. The archers shot again and again, as fast as they could draw and release. Their arrows reached deep into the Helosundian formation and the standard-bearers for the Emerald Dog battalion repeatedly died as they fought to keep their unit’s standard from touching the ground.