Griffin's Shadow (7 page)

When I examined him, I found the swellings to be firm, inflamed, and discolored. The patient’s wife and children were, quite naturally, terrified that he might die. I questioned the wife closely about her husband’s contacts with any humans that lived in the area. She readily admitted that both she and her husband had frequent dealings with the human folk of a certain village just across the border, as well as several human traders who traveled the area calling upon all of the farms thereabouts—human, hikui, and okui.

She then told me a troubling tale of a sickness spreading rapidly among the humans, killing many of them. They called it the ‘black death’, because it apparently turns a human victim’s skin a mottled purple-black just before the unfortunate wretch meets a rather messy and painful end.

In my readings, I have come across many references to the ‘black death’, so I am familiar with the symptom. Heretofore, it has been commonly believed that we elves could not contract this disease. Yet, there I stood over the sickbed of an elf, looking at a man with the unmistakable signs of the ‘black death’! I did what I could for the man, and tried to reassure his family, but I did not have much faith in my own mind that anything I did would make a difference. Sadly, I was correct.

Three days later, the youngest child, a girl, fetched me back out to the farm. Her father was dead, and now, her mother and all the rest of her siblings were ill. By the whim of the Goddess, this one child had been spared the sickness but not the agony of having to watch her entire family die, for die they did, despite everything I tried to do to prevent it.

Your Highness, as Court Physician and a learned colleague, I knew you would wish to be informed of this new and frightening ability of the human plague to attack our people. I fear for the health of the Tono garrison, as well as all of Lady Odata’s people, for they are our first line of defense against any invasion mounted by the Soldarans. Goddess help us if our forces down here, small as they are, should be further reduced by the ravages of disease.

Your Obedient Servant and Colleague,
Kujaku Remei

Raidan sighed wearily and leaned back into his padded chair. He rested his chin upon steepled fingers and pondered the implications of the information contained within Remei’s report. As a trained doctor, Raidan had studied most of the medical texts written by elven physicians, as well as a few written by human doctors. He knew of the ‘black death’—an ancient scourge of humankind—but only as a medical curiosity, something an elven healer would study purely for the sake of knowledge. No elf had ever contracted the disease…until now.

Something has changed
, the prince thought,
some fundamental aspect of the disease itself, to allow it to attack elves now, as well as humans.

A controversial theory, put forth by the human physician Nazarius, sprang to Raidan’s mind. The theory proposed that some diseases were caused by a particle or essence that entered the body of a healthy person and then somehow disrupted its natural function. This mysterious essence could pass—by as yet unknown means—from one person to another, causing illness in some while sparing others.

Prince Raidan believed in Nazarius’ theory. The essence that caused the ‘black death’ in humans had somehow been altered, but how?

Could the Soldarans have done this deliberately as a first assault in order to weaken our troops guarding the Tono Pass?
The prince shook his head.
Impossible.
The Soldarans have little real magic and this is certainly beyond their science. More importantly, though, is the question of how will we protect ourselves against it. Remei is quite right to be concerned about the health of the fighting forces stationed in and around Tono Castle.

Sweeping the papers up into his hands, Raidan went to see his brother the king.

The prince’s apartments lay at the opposite end of the main keep from those of the king’s. He had a fair distance to walk, but walking had never bothered him. Most of the castle’s inhabitants were still at their dinners; the few people Raidan encountered along the near silent corridors, servants all, bowed politely as he passed. His footfalls made little sound on the finely woven reed mats covering the stone floors.

His mind remained so preoccupied with the disturbing contents of the report crinkled in his hand that he arrived outside the king’s quarters with no conscious memory of the journey.

The two soldiers of the King’s Guard standing at either side of the painted double wooden doors snapped to attention. Ignoring them, Raidan pushed open the left door and strode through.

He crossed a large antechamber—dimly lit by a few small brass lamps—to stand before a smaller set of doors that opened into the inner sanctum of his brother’s private apartments.

A second pair of soldiers, also elite King’s Guard, stood watch over the finely carved wooden panels. They, too, came to attention at Raidan’s arrival, but this time, he did not continue forward.

Not even the Crown Prince could enter the king’s private quarters without permission.

“Tell the king I’m here,” Raidan commanded.

“Yes, your Highness,” the taller of the two guards responded. He disappeared through the portals while his partner assumed the traditional defensive stance—hand on sword hilt, spear extended over the doorway in a crosswise block.

Raidan understood their duty well; each member of the King’s Guard would defend the king with his or her life against all attackers, even should those attackers be members of the royal family.

He waited, as he knew he must, albeit impatiently.

The first guard returned. “The king will see you now, your Highness,” he announced. Then, in unison, he and his partner stepped to either side of the doors and inclined their spears away from the prince.

Raidan entered and made his way to his brother’s study. He found the king seated at his writing table, flipping through a stack of papers. The king looked up, head canted slightly to one side; for an instant, Raidan saw, not his brother sitting there, but their father.

Keizo Onjara, also known as Silverlock, King of Alasiri, pursed his lips in a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look as though your wife just threw you out.”

Raidan shook his head. “If only it was so simple,” he replied in a heavy voice. He sank onto a low couch opposite the king’s desk and brandished Remei’s report. “I’ve just received this from a traveling doctor down in Tono. It’s not good.” He offered the papers to Keizo. The king took them and began to read.

When he’d finished, the king laid the papers down beside the others stacked on the desktop and looked at his brother. “What do you advise?”

“At present, I have no advice, other than to warn Lady Odata, though I’m sure she is well aware of the situation.” Raidan ran a hand through his sable hair. “If this plague takes hold amongst the troops of her garrison, Tono will lie defenseless, leaving the way open for the Soldarans to sweep clear through to Sendai.”

“Which is why we must move the bulk of our armies into the Tono Valley as soon as possible,” Keizo said. He tapped the pile of reports before him with a well-manicured forefinger. “Intelligence has been coming in from as far south as Darguinia. Empress Constantia has begun a full-scale mobilization of her armies. It appears as if she intends to send at least two divisions north to retake Tono.”

“We both know her ambitions are more far-reaching than just retaking Tono,” Raidan replied. “The Soldaran homeland is bursting at the seams. The humans breed like field mice and they need more land. They look north to Alasiri and they see our fields and orchards, and all of the open land we have, and they covet it. The empress would happily slaughter us all in order to re-settle her excess population in our territory.”

Keizo rose from his chair and paced about the small room, filling its confines with his nervous energy. Raidan followed his brother’s movements with his eyes, holding his body still, betraying none of the tension he himself felt.

Abruptly, Keizo stopped pacing. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead, then spoke. “I estimate that we have until the end of next spring to prepare. That gives us almost eleven months. Constantia won’t risk coming out until then. She’s not nearly ready yet, and besides, the Tono Pass will be blocked with snow until the end of Daira at least. Then, there’s the late season rains. If she marches on us before Kishan’s over, she risks her forces getting bogged down in mud.” Keizo shook his head. “No. She won’t march until early Nobe, I’m sure of it, and we must be ready to meet her. As you pointed out, if we don’t stop her at the Tono Valley, all is lost.”

Raidan opened his mouth to reply when a soft knock at the door interrupted him.

“Come!” the king called out.

One of the guards stepped into the room and offered a crisp salute. “Your Majesty, General Sakehera awaits your pleasure,” he announced.

Keizo’s face broke into a smile. “Send him in.” The guard saluted and withdrew.

“Now that Sakehera is here, we can plan in earnest,” Raidan said. The prince had a keen regard for the gruffly affable Lord of Kerala, stretching back many years to the time when he, Keizo, and Sakehera were just boys. Young Sen had spent several years fostering at the court of their father, Keizo the Elder, where he had gained a secure place for himself as Keizo the Younger’s favorite companion. Even then, he had often demonstrated a cunning intelligence that seemed at odds with his placid exterior. Raidan considered him one of the best minds in the realm.

A good man to have on one’s side, if the need should ever arise,
Raidan thought.

The door swung open and Sen Sakehera strode briskly in, trailed by two younger men. All three bowed in unison. “Your Majesty,” Sakehera said.

“My friend! It’s been too long! Come, your king gives you permission to embrace him!” Keizo held out his arms and the two men embraced with unabashed pleasure. “You look exhausted,” the king observed.

Sen flashed a rueful smile. “We’ve just arrived. Haven’t even had time to knock the dust from our boots.” He indicated the two young men behind him with a wave. “I’ve brought my sons.”

“Yes, I see,” Keizo nodded. “Captain Sakehera, you have been away from my service for quite some time now. Your company—the Peregrines, I believe—will be pleased to have you back.”

“I sincerely hope so, Your Majesty,” the younger of Sen’s sons answered politely.

Raidan recognized Ashinji Sakehera and knew him to be a captain in the army, stationed in Sendai; his older brother Sadaiyo, Sen’s Heir, he did not know.

“Sakehera, your son Ashinji has a fine reputation within the service,” Raidan said. “He is a young man with a very bright future.” Sen beamed and laid a hand on the shoulder of his second son, a simple, yet telling gesture.

Skilled at both the art of observation and the science of deduction, Raidan surreptitiously studied Sen and his two sons. A slight downturn of the mouth, the appearance of a tiny crease between the eyes; the details were so subtle that even Raidan might have missed them had he not been specifically alert. Sadaiyo Sakehera hid his emotions well, but Raidan could still read them.

Jealousy was a terrible, corrosive force and when it stood between two brothers, it would surely destroy one or both of them. Raidan could only guess at the reasons for Sadaiyo Sakehera’s hatred of his younger brother, but one factor might be favoritism.

Sen had made it quite clear, with only a single gesture, which of his sons he loved best, and it was not his Heir.

Keizo sat at his desk and indicated with a wave of his hand that Sen should sit as well. The Lord of Kerala settled down on a cushioned stool with a grateful sigh. His sons moved to stand behind him.

The king regarded his old friend thoughtfully, then spoke. “I’ve tried to keep you as current as possible on the situation, but here is the latest,” he began. “The Soldarans are preparing for an attack, but they won’t be ready for nearly a year. That much you already know. We’ve just learned that there is an outbreak of a deadly disease known as ‘black death’ sweeping through the human population just over the Tono frontier.”

“But this is good!” Sen exclaimed. “This ‘black death’ will pose a serious danger to the empress’s troops. It could do half our work for us, if we’re lucky.”

“I would agree, except that it seems this plague can now attack elvenkind as well as humans. Raidan has received a report from a local doctor working in Tono. He personally tended an entire okui family that had fallen ill, and he fears that they were only the beginning.”

Sen shook his head, clearly troubled by this disturbing new development. “I had problems with human bandits last spring, raiding farms on my southern border,” he said. “There were reports about a strange sickness afflicting some of the folk who’d suffered raids. I figured the bandits had to be the source, though there’d never been any other times I could remember where elves came down with a human sickness. I sent my son Ashinji to investigate. He did find and destroy a gang of raiders but whether any of them carried the illness…” Sen shrugged.

“Did any more folk fall ill after your son wiped out the bandit gang?” Raidan asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” Sen replied. His grey-green eyes darted from side to side, then locked onto the king’s face. “Great Goddess!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just had a thought, and it’s not a pleasant one.”