The Heir (Fall of the Swords Book 3) (20 page)

“Decide, Lord River! Serve me or kill me!” Seeking Sword turned around, his arms limp at his sides, his back to the fortress and to the ruthless killer Raging River.

A minute passed, then two. Raging River finally moved.

The Bandit waited until all motion stopped, his body as still as stone. Only then did he turn.

At his feet groveled Raging River. He held his sword toward the Bandit with both hands.

Seeking Sword sank to his haunches and placed his hands on the sheathed blade. “Swear, Lord River, by all you hold sacred that you'll serve me with unswerving loyalty, that my law is your law, that my wish is your command.”

“I swear, Lord Commander Sword,” Raging River said, his forehead in the dirt.

“I hereby accept the services of your sword, Lord River. My first wish is that you do everything as before. Why change what works so well, eh?”

“Yes, Lord Commander Sword, thank you. It will be an honor and a privilege to serve you.” Raging River leaned back, settling on his haunches.

“It is an honor, Lord River, to have your service.”

“The Lady Tiger sent me to bring you to the Lair, Lord Sword. She's afraid of the traitors among us. I and the six guards will escort you.”

“Very well, Lord. I want three of them five paces ahead, three of them five paces behind. You and I will walk side by side, Lord River. I'll not be paraded through the fortress like a prisoner, nor will I become prisoner to a position of command.”

“As you wish, Lord Sword,” Raging River said, standing and turning to issue orders, his age apparent now, his shoulders stooped.

The Bandit stepped over to the medacor. “How are the Lords Snake and Blade, Lord Comfort?” Looking into the deep blue eyes, seeing the blond hair and large hands, Seeking Sword remembered the two men at the oak, just south of Seat.

“With rest and food, Lord Sword, they'll fight again.”

“Good, Lord Comfort. I spoke with your son two days ago—a man any father would be proud of.”

“Thank you, Lord,” Easing Comfort said, looking unperturbed.

Seeking Sword clasped his shoulder and turned toward the escort. Raging River at his side, the Bandit entered the fortress.

A year before, he had possessed not an inkling of the destiny awaiting him. Even now, ascending into the vast warren that was fast becoming his own, Seeking Sword couldn't comprehend the magnitude of the power at his disposal, nor of the responsibility upon his shoulders. In spite of that, he felt for the first time in his life that he truly belonged.

He was home.

T
he power of the matriarchies reached its apex during the reign of the seventh Emperor Arrow. Flying Arrow's distant cousin and eventual daughter-by-mateship, Rippling Water, assumed control of the Water Matriarchy when she was only sixteen years old. By that time, the Water Matriarchy included almost half of all Eastern women and extended into all four Empires. So avidly did she barter her daughters' pleasures that her enemies called her “the Imperial Madam.” She withheld those pleasures for equal gain. Her mother, the Matriarch Bubbling Water, was the archetype of wanton female sexuality that instills so much fear in our male-dominated society today. Rippling Water, in contrast, was the archetype of the calculating sexual financier that inspires raw terror. Yet she bestowed her personal pleasures upon only one man—or so the histories say.—
The Women, The Power
, by Shriveling Stalk.

My mother was the guiding force in my life long after she died. Bubbling Water bequeathed her experiences to me—from her rearing as an aristocrat to the week before her death. While those memories have proved valuable, her most wonderful gift to me was how to use them. “More important to me than anything I ever teach you,” she said to me once, “is that you learn to pay attention to your innermost voice. Without that guidance, my teachings won't do you a servant's turd worth of good.” My mother had a gift for articulation as well.—
Noble and Peasant
, by the Matriarch Rippling Water.

* * *

Her robes were a shimmering aquamarine, made from the finest silk. Her hair was the color of turquoise and styled fashionably. Her eyes were the green of jade and set wide on her face. She was the Matriarch Rippling Water, and she bowed to the Emperor Snarling Jaguar.

Smiling, the dark-skinned man on the dais, third of his line, nodded.

The Matriarch had come to ask that the Emperor honor his bargain with her mother, struck nearly sixteen years before but never concluded. In the last stages of consolidating the Matriarchy, Rippling Water was attending to those matters that required her personal attention. In addition, from what she knew of Snarling Jaguar, she simply wanted to meet him.

Sitting back on her haunches, she noted how his appearance had changed in the years since he had traveled to the Eastern Empire to negotiate with Flying Arrow for possession of Swan Valley. While Rippling Water had never met him, among the memories Bubbling Water had bequeathed were those of her fraternization with the Emperor Jaguar.

Crow's feet splayed from the outer corners of his eyes, clear but for the yellowing of the whites. Swathes of gray hair ran along the sides of his head, but the hair on top was black, tightly coiled, thinning. Large and yellow, the teeth looked perfect. The gnarled hands were powerful and encased in metal jewelry. Tendons and veins embossed the skin, emphasizing Snarling Jaguar's age. “Infinite be with you, Lady Water,” he said amiably, speaking the Eastern language without flaw.

“Infinite be with you as well, Lord Emperor Snarling Jaguar,” she replied in the Southern tongue. “Thank you for granting me audience.”

“I have an obligation to be there for my allies when needed, eh Lady?” The Emperor searched her face.

“I'm not your ally, Lord Emperor, please excuse me.”

“Your mother was my ally. I was sorry to hear of her passing. Your father
is
my ally. His diminished state grieves me. Even if you yourself aren't my ally, Lady Water, I offer my condolences on your double loss.”

Spoken simply, without theatrical gestures or emphatic inflection, the words moved her. Still not sure of this man, she sighed. “Thank you, Lord Emperor. However, sixteen years ago, my—”

Snarling Jaguar held up a scintillating hand. “Circumstance aside, Lady Water, I ask your forgiveness for my unconscionable delay in fulfilling the bargain I made with your mother sixteen years ago. Even as we speak, the trainers are preparing for transport the grizzly that I owe. Tell me where, Lady, and I'll ship the animal forthwith. Since the Lord Bear isn't himself, I instructed the trainers to hurry. Unfortunately, that means the bear isn't fully functional. The Lord Bear needs the animal
now
, however, not six months from now.”

She smiled, relieved. “Thank you, Lord Emperor. I'll be happy to forgive you the delay, if you can forgive me my doubting you.”

“Lady Water, you've done nothing to forgive. Doubts are normal, eh?” Snarling Jaguar shrugged. Standing, he brought his metalled wrists together, the opulent bracelets clashing.

Servants appeared. One placed an ornate cushion only a pace away from hers. Another placed a low tray to one side of the cushions. On the tray were coffee, toast and fruit.

Descending from the dais, the Emperor walked toward her, sat on the cushion and pulled his sword into his lap. Once more he brought his wrists together. Servants disappeared and they were alone.

“You do me too much honor, Lord Emperor.”

“I do you honor enough, Lady, to loosen your tongue.”

She smiled. “Not my robes, Lord Emperor?” She poured them each a cup of the hot, dark beverage, the smell rich, the beans the finest.

He chuckled. “No, Lady, not your robes. I'll leave that to the Lord Heir Flaming Arrow. I haven't spoken with an Easterner of your station for many years. When your father was my 'guest,' sixteen years ago, I learned more from him than I expected—and much about your political culture that displeased me. You were an infant. You're how old now, Lady, if I may ask?”

“Almost seventeen, Lord” she replied, sipping contentedly.

“So young to have such responsibilities,” he said through the steam wafting from his cup.

“I disagree, Lord. I'm my mother's only daughter, and she reared me from infancy to take the reins of the Matriarchy.”

“I don't doubt your maturity. I'm merely sad that your childhood would have to end so fast. Your mother and father were a good match for each other. Strong, intelligent, formidable individuals, both of them. I see their characteristics in you. All you lack is experience.”

“Again, Lord, I disagree. My mother was very thorough in my education. She bequeathed me her memories, the sum of her experiences—a resource that's been invaluable already. In addition, Lord Emperor, she required me to make the everyday decisions in running the Matriarchy for the last two years, reversing them only when I was about to make a major error. During the last year, she corrected only one decision.”

“She
was
thorough. She seems to have made few mistakes with your upbringing, Lady Water. I remember when she reversed her firstborn practice with her daughters, specifying that the first be male.”

“She did more than that, Lord. At first, she required all her daughters to bear a girl first and always more girls than boys. The policy was necessary to increase the size of the Matriarchy, which, under Steaming Water's management, had shrunk considerably. Many daughters had become discontent and found other Matriarchs to adopt them. That 'girl-first' policy was one of many strategies necessary to rebuild the Matriarchy.

“At the time I was born, the number of males born to Water daughters was thirty-five per hundred. About that time, the Lord General Oak started his school for women warriors. That was when my mother changed the basic progeny policy, requiring from then on that the first pregnancy be twin males, the second pregnancy either one or two daughters, and the third the same as the first.”

“What's the percentage now?” he asked, refilling their cups.

“You shouldn't be doing that, Lord Emperor.”

“You're my guest, and sincerely, it's my pleasure.”

She smiled, liking him. He had all her father's good qualities. Thus far she had seen none of the bad. “Sixty-five percent, Lord. Most are still too young to enlist. Males old enough to defend the Empire are far too few.”

“By the time they're old enough, Lady, the Empire won't need them.”

“Eh? What are you talking about?”

“Hasn't the Lord Heir taken upon himself the task of exterminating the bandits, Lady?”

She watched him through half-closed lids. “Are you making statements I'll disagree with, or am I imagining that, Lord?”

Snarling Jaguar laughed softly. “That's how I take your measure.”

Her expression didn't change. “I see.”

“Most people would have laughed with discomfort. My appraisal of you, Lady Water, has just increased a notch.”

Rippling Water didn't know whether to feel insulted or praised. “Exterminating the bandits isn't his intent, Lord, nor is he foolish enough to think he can. While he might be telling them what to expect when he becomes Emperor, I think he's just clearing the way for the next influx of bandits.”

“Eh? 'Next influx'?” Snarling Jaguar dipped toast into his coffee.

“How old are
you
, Lord, if I may ask?”

“Sixty-seven, young lady, old enough to be your grandfather.”

“Will the Lord Heir Stalking Jaguar win the loyalty of every General, every Matriarch, every Patriarch, every citizen? I thought not. What'll happen if, Infinite forbid it, the Imperial Sword kills him? We both know the answer. So, small or large, the northern lands will see an influx of bandits when you die. Do you know how long you have?”

He glared at her.

She sipped her coffee, amused with his ire.

“Secrets are a burden to those who hear them,” he said.

“As they are to those who tell them. In the telling the burden lifts a little, eh Lord?”

He smiled. “Shall we trade secrets, Lady Matriarch?”

“What's your question?”

“Have you given him your virginity?”

“Not much of a secret, Lord. Half the castle knows I did.” She smiled, thinking of her betrothed. The first time had pleased her. “Even
he
doesn't know I'm pregnant.”

He laughed softly, congratulating her. “One year,” he answered.

She let the sadness move into and through her. “I wish you a peaceful ending, Lord. I'll miss you—we
all
will.”

A companionable silence followed, the two of them liking each other and being content to enjoy the moment. He emptied his cup and she refilled it. He offered her a peach and she accepted gratefully. Slicing it into eighths with her mind and arranging the pieces in the shape of a flower, she offered him the first choice. They ate and drank in silence, their gazes on each other, the edges of their minds touching. He in the winter of age, she in the spring of youth, he a Southerner, she an Easterner, he ebony, she ivory. They bonded despite their differences—and because of them.

“I'd like you to share my bed,” she began, “unfortunately—”

Snarling Jaguar laughed and pounded the floor with a metalled fist.

“—I'm afraid Flaming Arrow would misunderstand. Perhaps in ten years he'll accept the necessities of promoting the Matriarchy, but not now, not yet.” She watched him quizzically.

“Like mother, like daughter,” he said, chuckling still.

“Thank you, Lord,” she said, smiling.

“Listen, young lady,” he said, suddenly serious. “Your betrothed has a most difficult decision ahead of him, a decision different than his father had to face. The bandits want the Northern Imperial Sword, which Flying Arrow decided to keep, hoping he'd acquire the missing Heir Sword. A decision different, Lady Water.”

Her gaze narrowed, his non-sequitur intended. What was he trying to tell her that he was reluctant to state outright? Slowly, she put the pieces together. “The bandits have the
Heir
Sword?!”

His face neutral, he looked at her blankly.

She understood his reticence. What he hadn't said wouldn't return to haunt him. Her conclusion was without basis in fact and she couldn't prove it unless the bandits confirmed the information. Snarling Jaguar had arranged for her to know in such a way that no one could hold him responsible for revealing the information. Empires had fallen for lesser indiscretions.

“I'll wager I know who has it,” she muttered.

“What do you know about these 'psychic storms,' Lady.”

The abrupt change of subject didn't surprise her. She understood his reluctance to venture further into a subject so sensitive. In addition, he was telling her that she too should be discreet. “I only heard the dispatch sent by Flaming Arrow, and haven't talked with him personally, or anyone else who witnessed these 'storms.' I understand that just after he removed Scowling Tiger's head, he was about to lose his own when he blanked out. The gap in his memory corresponds to the time and duration of the first psychic storm. According to other reports, he was asleep during the second storm and dreaming. He awoke as the storm ended and panicked—except that I've never known Flaming Arrow to panic.”

“Confronted with the impossible, we all act strangely.”

She nodded, frowning. “The Lord Wizard Spying Eagle is doing a detailed analysis on the storms, Lord. Would you like to be informed of his conclusions?”

“Please, Lady, I'd be most appreciative. Just the extent of the storms piques my curiosity. By the way, I wanted to say that the Lord Heir's innovative solution gave me a good laugh. A month ago, I analyzed the situation and concluded that armed confrontation wouldn't work. While what he's done is only a temporary setback for the bandits, he showed me how I was wrong in my analysis. I congratulate him on his foresight and audacity.”

“I'll convey your sentiments, Lord, if you so wish. When he first told me of his plan, I tried to dissuade him.”

Snarling Jaguar chuckled. “He'll be a better Emperor than
I
was.”

“Why do you say that, Lord?”

“The Lord Bear taught him. You'll be beside him. He has Healing Hand and Spying Eagle and Scratching Wolf. Then there's his questionable lineage.”

She frowned, feeling insulted.

Snarling Jaguar laughed at her, then grew suddenly stern. “Take that expression off your face! If you can't face realities, then you'd better disembowel yourself! That's better. As I was saying, Flaming Arrow's parentage couldn't be more obscure. Only one grandparent known—Rustling Pine. Scratching Wolf
isn't
his grandfather, as she asserts. I'll tell you why: Simple genetics. The chances of two red-haired children being born to two brown-haired parents are next to nothing. Whoever's the father of Flowering Pine and Flaming Wolf, he's red-haired and blue-eyed.