Griffin's Shadow (19 page)

“Damn!” Keizo exclaimed. “If this plague takes hold in a serious way among Odata’s people, we are in very deep trouble. I don’t need to tell you what devastation an unchecked illness can wreak on an army.”

“I’m researching a preventative,” Raidan stated. “I’ve been studying the writings of a certain human physician who has come up with a very interesting theory, which I intend to test… on myself if I have to.”

“That sounds too dangerous. I can’t allow you to risk your life in such a manner. I rely on you too much!” Keizo replied forcefully.

Raidan raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “I promise I won’t take any foolish risks, Brother, and I swear I’ll do nothing until I have learned more about Nazarius’ theory.”

“What does this theory say?” Sakehera asked. “How can the disease be prevented?”

“Nazarius proposed that the essence of the disease itself can be utilized in producing a kind of natural blockage,” Raidan answered. “Unfortunately, Nazarius himself died before he could test his theory.”

The king shook his head. “This all sounds so fantastical. How can a sickness prevent itself from afflicting a body?”

“Your question reveals just how little we know about the workings of illnesses. It’s why I’ve devoted myself to science…to find out the answers.”

The king appeared unconvinced, but Raidan knew the futility of arguing any longer. His brother remained firmly mired in the traditional view that magic and science existed as separate entities, rather than the more rational view that each stood as two different aspects of the same discipline. To Keizo, magic would always be the superior path.

“We need to have our force on the road to Kerala as soon as possible,” Keizo said.

“They can leave by the end of the week,” Sakehera answered.

A heavy silence fell over the room. Raidan knew that each of them shared the same dire thoughts which no one wished to speak aloud.

A shout, followed by the sound of a young woman’s laughter— lighthearted and joyful—floated up from the yard below.

“Our children are down in your private sparring yard, hitting each other with practice swords,” Sakehera commented. “I wonder how wise that is, given Jelena’s condition.” Raidan noted the fatherly concern in his voice.

“I’ve known my daughter barely two months,” Keizo said, “but I’ve come to learn that she is very much an Onjara. When she sets her mind to something, nothing will deter her. She has insisted on serious weapons training…to aid in the defense of Alasiri, she says.”

“Keizo, we need to formulate plans for what we might do if…if it looks like the Soldarans will prevail.” Sakehera’s voice was grave.

“Don’t you think that is a little premature?” the king shot back. “We haven’t even had so much as a skirmish yet! You’re selling us short if you’re already talking of defeat before the war’s even begun!”

“Sen’s right, Brother. Our forces are outnumbered at least three to one. The Soldarans have the most formidable army in the known world. He’s just trying to be realistic. We need a backup plan should the unthinkable happen and the Imperial Army succeed in breaking through our lines at Tono.” Raidan paused, then added, “I also believe we should plan to utilize magic as part of our overall defense plan.”

Keizo cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you were a man of science, Brother. Now, you advocate using magic?”

“I believe we need to use every weapon at our disposal. The humans have no magic; therefore, they will be unable to mount any defense against ours. It could give us the advantage we need to counter their superior numbers.”

“Yes, yes, that’s true!” Sakehera agreed.

Keizo laid his hands flat against the table and looked up with troubled eyes. “The amount of skill and energy required to conjure the kind of powerful workings we are going to need will be enormous. It will take several high level sorcerers, and even then, the risks to each of them of death or insanity will be significant…Still, I agree with you.”

“We should consult my wife,” Raidan replied. “She, better than anyone else at court, will know exactly what needs to be done.”

“I will hear from Taya tomorrow, then, during the council meeting.” Keizo paused, then added, “I plan to allow Jelena to attend as well. It’s high time she started learning the skills of statecraft. The future has become too uncertain. I want her to have at least a basic knowledge, in case…” Keizo frowned and would not meet Raidan’s eyes.

“In case…what? What are you trying to say, Keizo?” The unspoken part of the question hung like a dark shadow between them. The king stood and went over to the window. He stared out over the sunswept rooftops for awhile, hands folded behind him, rocking back and forth on his heels. A stray breeze lifted a tendril of silver hair and blew it back over his shoulder.

“I’m not trying to say anything, Brother, other than I wish my daughter to be prepared for any eventuality,” he said at last, turning from the window to face Raidan. “Both of us will necessarily have to risk our lives on the battlefield when the time comes, as will your son Raidu. It may come to pass that Jelena will be the only one of our blood left who can carry on. I want her to be ready.”

Raidan felt the heat of anger rise within him, but he ruthlessly quelled it. As much as he hated to admit it, Keizo was right. He remembered Taya’s admonition that he do nothing, even if Keizo took the unthinkable step and proclaimed Jelena his Heir. There were larger forces at work, and Raidan had to give them time to play their part.

“Keizo, I want to go talk to my sons, tell ‘em they’re heading home and what they’re to do when they get there…If I have your leave?” Sakehera asked. Despite their lifelong friendship and the familiarity that came with it, Sakehera never forgot that Keizo was his sovereign first and foremost.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Keizo consented. “And when you see my daughter, please tell her to come to me as soon as is convenient. I’ll be in my study.”

“I will. Raidan,” Sakehera said, nodding his head in farewell. He rose from his chair and departed.

“Brother, I know you too well,” Keizo said after Sakehera had left the room. He returned to his chair and poured himself another cup of tea before continuing. Raidan remained silent, waiting. “I’ve known since the day our brother Okame died, when I ascended the throne and you became my Heir, that you’ve desired the crown for yourself, or if not for you, then for Raidu.”

“I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise,” Raidan replied. “But I have always stood behind you and supported you as a brother should. I’ve never allowed my ambition to cloud my judgment.”

“True enough. I rely on and trust you most of all, but I suspect that if I try to set my daughter above you, you will fight me, even to the point of open rebellion.”

Raidan’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Keizo, who stared back at him with eyes as hard and cold as glacial ice. He chose his next words with great care. “Brother, when have I ever given you cause to question my loyalty? I hold the good of our people before all else, just as you do, Keizo. The last thing I want is a civil war, which is what will surely happen if you try to name Jelena as your Heir.”

“Is that a threat?” Keizo asked in a conversational tone, but Raidan could see tightly controlled anger in the rigid lines of his brother’s body.

“No! It is merely a statement of fact. I happen to know over half the Council would oppose you, and in the ensuing fight, factions will inevitably form among the lesser nobility, further weakening us at a time when we need to be strong and united. And let us not forget the people!” Raidan stabbed the air with a forefinger, for emphasis. “Most, if not all okui will refuse to accept her as Heir, whereas the hikui will embrace her; in fact, they already have! Jelena would serve as a very potent symbol for them and encourage them to demand equal legal status.”

“Don’t you think the people will accept my daughter because she is mine? She is a true Onjara; the White Griffin proved it!” Keizo replied heatedly.

“Keizo, you should have married and gotten yourself a legitimate heir!” Raidan shouted. “I don’t know why you never did, because if you had done so, we wouldn’t be in this situation now! I would have gladly stepped aside for a legal child of yours, but for a bastard
hikui
…” He stopped and closed his eyes, unable to continue as his anger threatened to boil over and consume him.

“You dare speak to me thus?” Keizo asked in a low voice.

Raidan’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s stop right now before I…before
we
take this too far.” He leaned forward, his face close enough for Keizo to strike if he so chose. “Zin…
Brother!
I don’t wish to fight you, but…I beg of you. Don’t do anything that all of us will regret. At least hold off making any decision until after we settle things with the Soldarans.”

Keizo’s jaw worked, as if dangerous words fought to free themselves from the confines of his mouth. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and for one tense moment, Raidan thought his brother would punch him in the face after all. He prepared to dodge the blow, but it never came. Keizo sat back in his chair with a grunt and turned his face away. He rested his chin in his hand.

Raidan sighed with relief. “Keizo, I…” he began, but the king interrupted him.

“Leave me. I need to think.” He refused to meet Raidan’s eyes.

Without another word, Raidan got up and departed.

Danger In The East

"You did very well with the sword today, love,” Ashinji said. “Your cousin Magnes would be proud.”

“I know you held back, Ashi, even though I’ve asked you not to,” Jelena replied with mock irritation. “You won’t hurt the baby. The swords are dull and besides, you aren’t aiming anywhere near my belly.”

The two of them had spent the morning in the king’s private sparring yard; after a quick bath, they had returned to the Sakehera family quarters for a lunch of cold meat, cheese, and bread. After helping themselves, they settled into their favorite window seat overlooking a small garden courtyard directly below the tower apartment.

Jelena’s weapons training now kept Ashinji busy most mornings. Within the short period of time he had been schooling her, she had made rapid progress. He felt Jelena pushed herself out of fear of the near future, but also from her desire to master some basic skills before her body grew too ungainly.

“I can’t help worrying, but…” he raised a hand to forestall her protest, “it doesn’t mean I don’t think you should learn how to defend yourself.” His undeniable need to protect her had to coexist with his desire to help her become strong and self-confident. Sometimes, he found it difficult to balance the two.

Five months into her pregnancy, Jelena glowed with robust health. The nausea that had plagued her early on had subsided; her appetite had increased to the point where she now ate more than he did. Ashinji gazed into his wife’s face and noted how it had grown rounder, softer. Even with her mouth full of food, he found her irresistible.

Jelena is carrying our child,
he thought, smiling. She stared back at him quizzically.

“What? Do I have sauce on my nose?” She reached up to wipe her face.

“No, love. I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Jelena laid her hand on her swollen midsection. “I’m the lucky one,” she replied.

They continued their meal in companionable silence; ever attuned to her mood, Ashinji gradually became aware of a subtle change in his wife’s demeanor.

“Something’s troubling you. What is it?” he asked.

Jelena sighed and took a sip of wine from her tankard before answering.

“I visited Sateyuka yesterday,” she said.

“Your friend the weaver.” Ashinji had yet to meet Jelena’s new friend, but he approved of their acquaintance.

“Yes. Going down to Jokimichi, remembering what happened to Sateyuka and her family…it made me angry all over again, Ashi.”

“Have you spoken to your father about how you feel?”

Jelena shook her head. “No. Until now, I felt I didn’t know him well enough to speak to him about such things. But we have grown much closer in the last few weeks. My father is a good man and a good king, but I think he ignores the plight of the hikui…not because he’s uncaring, but because to change the laws would mean going against tradition.”

Ashinji picked his next words with care. “I know you’ll be angry when you hear this, but…perhaps now is not the time to distract your father with this.” Jelena looked at him sharply. Ashinji took her hand. “I don’t mean to say I think it’s right that a hikui should be less than any okui person under the law, but if the Soldarans succeed in overrunning Alasiri, none of that will matter. We’ll all suffer, okui and hikui alike.”

“I know what you are saying is right,” Jelena conceded, “but I still must tell him how I feel. I’m sure he’d want to know.”

“Ah, children!” Sen called out as he swept into the room, interrupting their conversation.

“Hello, Father,” Ashinji rose to greet his father. “You look troubled.”

“I have news, Youngest Son.” He regarded Ashinji with a solemn expression.

“Father, what’s happened?” Ashinji asked, frowning. He moved closer to Jelena and slipped an arm around her waist.