Chapter 17

Zaidna

The Empire of Chalei

The Jungles

The fat male sazi abruptly ceased his flight, skittering to a halt on a high, craggy branch. He dropped down to swing back and forth from his tail. “Hey! Hey, stinky pointy-ear!”

Sorai, who had been chasing after him, stopped and caught her breath, bending forward to hug the back of her aching knees, where the skin beneath the glyph scabs was swollen and burning hot to the touch. Her head was pounding and her flesh was moist with sweat.

“Hey! You listen?” The fat male broke a twig between two paws and threw it down at Sorai, after which all his feathered minions mimicked his action.

Sorai shielded her face as she was showered by nuts, leaves, and more twigs. This childish assault did nothing to ease her nerves. “I hear you!” she cried out, and the onslaught stopped as quickly as it had begun.

The fat male cleared his throat in indignation. “Close to blue pelt nest, close. There!” His body went rigid, his nose pointing straight ahead.

Tears of relief streaked Sorai’s face as she picked up her heels and ran through the brush, with the throng of sazis in pursuit overhead.

When she at last crashed through the fronds, she dropped to her knees in awe, a small sob bursting from her throat. A mammoth tree, as big as any of Sayora’s towers, stood before her. It supported a series of wooden huts, connected by roped catwalks. The roofs of the huts were constructed out of thatched palm leaves, and ragged blue banners, each emblazoned with the imperial star of Chalei, draped below the windows of the largest, most central hut. “An outpost!” she cried.

The fat male perched upon a low branch beside her and proudly corrected, “Nest!”

Such warden-run outposts were the only places of refuge in these otherwise inhospitable territories. Each outpost was linked, much like the individual huts, by a web of wide suspended bridges, large enough to support the weight of narus and silk-laden wagons. Up there in the jungle canopy, merchants and travelers had no fear of padu attacks.

Sorai raised her trembling arms and waved them wildly above her head, but before she could open her mouth to cry out for aid, a number of sazis dropped from their perches. Within seconds they had surrounded her by the dozens, each one staring at her with furious blue eyes. “Fish, fish, fish!” they began to chant until their calls became a frenzied roar.

Sorai lowered her arms and stared in surprise as the fat male stalked up to her on his toes, his fur and feathers all puffed up, creating the illusion that he had doubled in size. “Trade! We take you blue pelt nest. Now you pay! Give shiny! Give fish!”

Sorai reached up and removed her remaining earring. “Be patient for the fish. The wardens up above will have to give it to you.”

“You give fish now! No wait!” the fat male screeched. The other males in his group yowled, their backs arching aggressively as they circled her.

Sorai stammered as she tried to explain, but her voice was stolen away as something whizzed past her face, close enough to unsettle the air against her skin. There was a loud thunk, and she turned to see a vibrating arrow jutting out of a tree behind her. The sazis scattered, flying or skittering higher into the trees all around, but their screams for payment did not cease.

Men were shouting now. Sorai looked up and saw a number of blue-uniformed wardens lined up on one of the rope bridges above her, crossbows nocked and aimed at the sazis who now stalked back and forth through the canopy. “Who’s down there?” one of the men bellowed.

Sorai tried to stand, but her muscles spasmed, and she fell with a sharp cry. She swept back the hair covering her forehead and pressed her hand to her scalp, revealing the imperial star of Chalei to the wardens, hoping that they would recognize it from that distance. “It’s me, Sorai! The empress!”

The men stared down at her a moment, before one of them yelled, “The empress?” Several of the group broke off, and within moments a long rope ladder uncoiled and dropped from a wooden platform that ringed the main tree’s gargantuan trunk. Several wardens in shabby caftans climbed down in haste, exclaiming as they rushed to her upon reaching the ground.

Sorai nearly broke down in her relief, crawling on hands and knees to meet them, but the sazis reappeared to block her path. They circled the wardens and hissed their displeasure.

“Trade! Trade! Brought stinky pointy-ear for fish and shinies!” the fat male snarled.

One of the wardens, the commanding officer, narrowed his eyes at the fat male and took aim with his crossbow. An arrow pierced the ground at the sazi’s feet, causing the little beast and his fellows to shriek and tear back up into the trees. “Get out of here, Chubbachoo!” It seemed the wardens knew this particular tribe of sazis.

“Chief Chibchatchu!” the fat male declared above a chorus of hisses and caterwauls. “She trade us! Trade!”

The warden rolled his eyes and nocked another arrow, but as he aimed again at Chibchatchu, who perched in his tree, Sorai gasped and shouted, “No, wait! I owe them my life!”

The warden grudgingly but immediately obeyed her command. He lowered his weapon and bowed deeply to her.

Sorai took her earring and tossed it as far as she could to Chibchatchu, who scuttled down the trunk, snatched up the earring in his mouth, and returned to the relative safety of the trees.

“Fish now!” Chibchatchu demanded.

The wardens all seemed irritated at this, murmuring about “Chubby’s” strange demands, until Sorai raised her hand and said, “I made a deal with them. Go and get the flock as much fish as they can eat!”

“But Empress, the last search party to pass through here took most of our dried and salted fish,” the commanding officer said, remaining in his stooped bow. “We don’t have nearly enough to feed this whole flock.”

The sazis all screeched in agitation, and a shower of twigs and nuts began raining down around Sorai.

“Then go find more!” Sorai cried, once again shielding her head with her arms. “Go to the nearest city or outpost—catch the fish yourselves if you must!”

The officer nodded before straightening himself and shouting orders up at the men situated above on the rope bridge. They immediately rushed off, presumably to acquire the requested fish.

Chibchatchu squawked up at his flock. Several males took off after the wardens, scampering across the rope bridge. “They go watch!” he explained smugly, as the rest of his minions snickered sinisterly.

The wardens groaned and cursed as the sazis all leapt across the outstretched boughs and began to settle in the outpost itself, perching across the rope bridges, squatting on platforms, and making nests out of the thatched roofs, where they curled up with their cubs for naps. There were hundreds of sazis everywhere, each one more brazen and disruptive than the last.

“This our nest,” said Chibchatchu to the wardens. “Ours until get fish!”

The commanding warden clenched his fists. “You—I’ll deal with you later, Chubby!”

“Chibchatchu!” Chibchatchu spat, offended. He took off and made himself comfortable atop the tallest hut he could find.

Now safe, Sorai became fully aware of her state of undress and attempted to tuck her naked tail beneath her bent legs. An eshtan would not have noticed or even cared about her tail, but dalanais definitely would. No man, including these wardens, should see it except her husband.

The commanding officer tore the blue mantle off his shoulders. “Avert your eyes!” he snapped at his men, doing the same as he lowered the mantle for Sorai to take.

Sorai accepted the mantle gratefully and tied it about her hips so that it would keep her tail mostly hidden. With her modesty secure, she stood, but immediately fell forward onto her hands and knees, exhausted.

“You’re wounded!” the warden gasped as he pulled her up to stand, noting the glyphs on her arms and chest through the half-parted tunic. “Who did this?”

“The one who took me,” Sorai murmured, stumbling a little as he led her to the great tree. “He’s a cultist who thinks he’s the Dread God. He and his followers are responsible for the coastal raids.”

The men reacted with shock and unease, while the commanding warden was visibly tense. He nodded at one of the officers closest to him. “Ready the narus. We must leave for Sayora immediately.”

“How far away are we?” Sorai asked, suddenly feeling dizzy as her glyphs began to prickle.

“It’s not far,” he answered. “A two-day ride if we don’t stop to rest.”

As Sorai’s eyelids began to droop, she noticed something odd about the warden’s face, something—interesting. His skin was weathered, the creases near his eyes hard and deep, but that wasn’t it. Something else was there—thin, white strands that extended several inches from his temples, undulating slowly. She’d never seen anything like them before, and wasn’t even sure she saw them now, but something about their faint glow made her mouth feel dry.

“Empress, you look ill. We will take you back to the palace as quickly as we can.”

Almost against her will, Sorai found herself reaching for the warden’s face with a quivering hand, wanting nothing more than to wrap those threads about her fingers and pull. The last thing she heard was the warden’s startled cry as her limbs became heavy and her world went black.

***

“Are you ready, Emperor?” the physician asked as he placed a familiar wooden dowel into Tashau’s mouth. Tashau rolled the rough thing across his tongue and clenched it between his molars, hoping he’d break it this time.

He stared past the physician’s bent, white-capped head into the sitting room that lay beyond it. There, the kada stood shining dully in the sunlight. In the last three weeks, people had come and gone in a constant stream to visit him in his various states of consciousness, with only the kada standing vigil as his steadfast companion. As a symbol of Chalei’s power, it should have been a comfort to him. Instead, it stood as a constant reminder of his weakness and failure as an emperor and husband. His uncle Shauda continued to run the affairs of the empire in his absence, and his wife—well, what good was any man if he could not protect his wife?

The incision was as painful as it had been every other time the physician probed for infection with razor-focused ormé. Tashau ground his teeth into the dowel, further indenting the wood, gripping at the sheets with his hands. As the pain swirled slowly around his innards, the physician’s assistants swooped in to sop up the blood that rolled down Tashau’s sides.

Healing through ormé was far more an art than science, and Tashau knew that the flesh the physicians had created to replace his own wasn’t truly alive, and that his body would never be the same as a result. Still, blood would course through the scars, and he would continue to live, even if he was less of a man for it.

“Good!” the physician exclaimed, and the glow about his palms shifted color as he began to seal the skin across Tashau’s belly. “There is no more infection left to clear, and your bodily tissues are merging nicely with the grafts. I believe this may be the last time we will have to do this. Naltena has surely blessed you.”

Tashau pressed out an abbreviated sigh of relief, letting the dowel roll out of his mouth. “Then I am free to rise.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The physician looked hesitant but nodded, moving to scrub his hands in a bowl of water at the side of the bed. “Yes, if that is your desire, Emperor.”

Tashau wasted no time in standing up, brushing aside the attendants who were wiping his torso clean. Once on his feet, he winced, his hand reflexively moving to his gut.

The physician held out a wet hand. “Careful, Emperor! This is but the beginning of your recovery. You must not move much or too quickly.”

Tashau did not reply as a servant rushed forward to dress him before the room’s full length mirror. As the robe was placed over his shoulders, he noted that the bruises on his gaunt face had healed nicely, but the flesh of his stomach was a far different matter. He already knew that the skin would be gnarled from the times he had felt it, but up close in the mirror, the stark pink-whiteness of the scar made it appear as though candle wax had been melted and dried upon the entire left side of his stomach.

Still, he knew he could not complain. The physician had done a thorough job; the loss of a little vanity was a small price to pay for his life.

“I am still not comfortable with you traveling,” the physician muttered worriedly. “Even though the goddess herself compels you to take the kada to Judath for the summit, I fear that doing so will have bad consequences.”

“Then I assume you’d take umbrage with me if I rode my naru today?” Tashau mused as he belted his robe, ignoring the additional pain at his spine. Now that he was mobile, nothing would keep him from joining the search for Sorai.

“Goddess, no!” the physician cried. “You are not to ride a naru in the coming weeks at all, much less today. In fact, we have prepared canes for your use while walking. We cannot risk further damage to your back.”

Tashau scowled irritably.

“It will only be temporary if you are careful, Emperor,” the physician assured as he gestured to one of the servants, who rushed into the sitting room, returning with an armful of canes that he laid carefully on the bed. “The dowager empress has had several canes crafted for you to choose from. This ivory cane, in particular, is quite nice. Fashionable, even.”

Tashau bristled at the assortment of canes, each one an insult. Furious, he swept them all from his bed, causing them to clatter across the floor. “My wife has been lost for almost four weeks, and you would keep me an invalid!” He turned to the servants with a snarl. “Go and ready my naru at once, and bring me my riding leathers!”

The servants seemed surprised and frightened by Tashau’s outburst, but only looked hesitantly to the physician.

“You will do as I say!” Tashau barked.

Again, the servants did not move.

The physician rounded the bed and said softly, “Emperor, your health is our greatest concern and priority. You are to remain as immobile as possible until you are fully healed.”

An irate laugh burst from Tashau’s throat as he stormed past them and exited the suite, ignoring the shooting pains. “To Yalet with you, then!” he shouted over his shoulder as they chased after him. “I’ll ride in my bedclothes if I must!”

“Please, Emperor, you must rest! You risk further injury!” the physician begged before looking back at the servants and snapping at them through clenched teeth, “Go and get the dowager empress and High Prince Shauda at once!”

Tashau forced his body to move through the galleries and courtyards, all the way to the stables. “Ready my naru,” he ordered, pointing at a frightened stablehand. The boy scrambled to obey.

The physician and his attendants were breathing heavily as they caught up with Tashau. “You must not be hasty! You’re not dressed. Your back—”

“My back is fine!” Tashau lied.

The boy returned with Tashau’s sanguine-scaled naru on a tether. Tashau immediately tried to climb to the saddle, but lost his grip and would have ended up sprawled flat on the ground had the servants and physician not rushed in and caught him. Tashau shoved them all aside and reached for the saddle again.

“Enough!” Kia’s still-ringing command stopped Tashau in his tracks. She rushed into the stables with a troop of handmaidens following closely behind her.

“Mother,” Tashau muttered, not looking at her.

“Leave. All of you!” Kia ordered, and everyone aside from Tashau scattered. Once Tashau and Kia were alone, she stamped toward him and grasped his arm firmly, forcing him to face her. She looked particularly tall and ominous in her stiff brown robes—the color of death and mourning. “Why are you doing this, Tashau?” There was compassion mixed with anger in her eyes.

Tashau glowered uncomfortably. “It’s been weeks, and Sorai still hasn’t been found. The wardens haven’t been doing enough.”

“But you know they found her clothes shredded and covered with blood in the jungle,” Kia reminded softly, piercing Tashau’s heart. “She is dead, Tashau. They are only searching for her body.”

Tashau shook his shoulders, shrugging her off his arm. “She is not dead! I will take the kada and find the man who did this!”

“How can the kada possibly help you defeat this man if you don’t even know how to use it?” Kia challenged.

Tashau’s lips moved, but couldn’t produce any sound. It was his fault that Sorai was suffering, his fault that she was not in the palace tending to their happy child. Had he known how to wield the kada—or thought to even try—none of this would have happened.

“I know how much you love Sorai,” Kia whispered, “but you have more to think about now than just that. You have a son who cannot lose you, and Chalei cannot lose you, either. Your uncle may be willing to deal with the affairs of the empire until you’ve recovered, but you know he doesn’t have the constitution to do it for too long. He is much happier breeding his sazis and lazing around in the sun. He can’t teach Faro to lead the way you can. Look at what he’s done with your cousins! And he knows even less about the kada than you do. Naltena blessed you—permitted you to live. You should take that as a sign that she intends you to lead.”

Tashau’s jaw hardened. “You’re asking me to abandon my wife. If she’s dead—if we don’t find her body to give it the proper funeral rites—I will never see her again, not even in the Mother Star!”

Kia shook her head, her eyes beginning to water. “Tashau, you know how long it’s been. If she died that first night, she is already lost.”

“I refuse to accept that!”

Kia straightened to her full height, her expression suddenly cold. “Refuse if you must, but I won’t allow you to waste your life. You will remain in the palace until you heal. Try to leave and I will have you confined.”

Tashau stepped forward, glaring into his mother’s green eyes. “Don’t you threaten me, Mother. I am not a child!”

“But you are my child!” Kia retorted. “I gave you life, and you owe me obedience!”

Tashau ground his teeth. This was hardly the time for guilt trips. “I owe you nothing!” He turned and mounted the naru successfully this time, although the pain from his scars nearly caused him to lurch off the other side.

Kia’s face flashed shock. “Tashau, no!”

Tashau kicked at the naru’s flanks, shouting at it as it tore down the earthen path. Tashau ignored the throbs from every one of his muscles, forcing himself to breathe in short bursts until he reached the front gates of the palace complex.

“Let me out!” he snarled at the sentries stationed there. “Don’t stand there! Do it now!”

The sentries uneasily took note of Tashau’s bedclothes, but still moved to open the gates, allowing him to rush through on his naru.

Once on the wide dirt road outside of the complex, he steered toward the right and headed up the mountain on a thin path. The nearest outpost was only a few miles away, and while the mountain path was rockier than the main road, it was also much shorter. The wardens at the outpost would provide him with supplies and information on how to aid the search.

He hadn’t been riding long before he heard the thundering gallops of narus closing the distance behind him. “Damn it!” he cursed. He looked over his shoulder and saw two guards riding quickly after him. His mother must have sent them out to escort him back to the palace. He kicked at his naru’s sides, increasing its already furious pace until it was breathing hard and frothing at its beak.

“Emperor!” one of the guards shouted as they inevitably pulled up alongside Tashau. “You’ve got to stop!”

Tashau did not respond. His vision was beginning to blur.

“Emperor, the wardens from the Kamali outpost have just ridden in! They found the empress!”

Tashau shot a suspicious glare at the guards. “A lie to trick me into returning to the palace!”

“No! They arrived just moments after you left! The empress is alive!”

Tashau’s eyes widened. His mother would not play such a cruel joke on him just to get him to return, would she? No, she wouldn’t be that heartless. He sat up and pulled hard on the reins of his naru, skidding to a halt. He gripped his inflamed belly and looked sternly at the guards as they stopped a little ahead of him. “Do you swear that she’s been found?”

The guards nodded uneasily.

Tashau wordlessly directed his naru to turn around. When they returned to the complex, Tashau found servants, advisors, and wardens already waiting for him at the stables, some looking excited while others looked racked with worry.

“Where is she? Show me,” Tashau commanded as he dismounted the naru jarringly, nearly stumbling.

A warden stepped forward, and Tashau grasped onto his shoulder for support. As they hobbled quickly toward the palace, the warden filled him in on the details of Sorai’s recovery. “A flock of wild sazis led her to our outpost. She was in a bad state—passed out before I could even get her to a naru, but she’s worse now. She won’t eat—won’t even take water. She’s woken a few times on our trip here. She gave us a full description of her assailant and account of what happened. Apparently she was held captive by two eshtans and a half dalanai man.”

“Her assailant was a half-breed?” Tashau demanded, recalling the man’s strange appearance. It would make sense if that were the case.

“She also claimed he could grow hair on his face, so we can’t say for certain what he is,” the warden said. “She was overjoyed to hear that you were alive, but—Emperor, before you see her you should know that the empress is badly wounded.”

Tashau released the warden’s shoulder and immediately stormed from the entourage, intent on rushing to Sorai’s side, but his advisors surrounded him, stopping him. “Please don’t be rash, Emperor,” one of them urged. “It won’t help her if you further injure yourself.”

“And the attacker hasn’t been found? Him or those eshtans?” Tashau demanded.

“No, not yet,” the warden answered.

“You are not to rest until they’ve been found!” Tashau bellowed, pushing his way past his advisors. “Where is your high chief?”

“He is already on a ship to Judath as far as I know,” the warden responded. He hesitated a moment before adding, “The empress claims that her captors are also on their way to Judath.”

“What?”

“They’re searching for something—she called them witnesses, which they can only find in Judath. She also said they’re the ones responsible for the raids on the coastal villages. The one who took the empress is a cultist who fancies himself to be the reincarnated Dread God.”

This new information surprised Tashau, but he simply turned and arched an eyebrow. “He is certainly powerful. I’m painfully aware of that. But to be able to lay waste to all those villages—the ones in Judath and Xeshun as well if they’re connected. He couldn’t do that with just a few followers. We must send a warning to the sun emperor before the summit begins.”

“But Emperor,” cautioned an advisor, “Sayora’s fastest ship is already being prepared for your journey to the summit in a few days, and the other warden flagships have already departed in advance. We cannot spare your ship for a single messenger. We will have to bring a messenger with us to Judath and send him on ahead once we make landfall.”

“So be it,” Tashau conceded. “The timing of this cultist’s journey to Judath is not a coincidence. I’m sure he knows that most of the nobility from all three empires will be there.”

Another advisor spoke up. “Emperor, perhaps it would be wise for you to avoid the summit altogether. With your condition, and the as-yet-unknown condition of the empress—”

“Of course I will attend the summit!” Tashau interrupted. “It is by mandate of the goddess that I bring the kada to Judath for the proper rites. I will not dishonor Naltena after she has preserved my wife’s life.” In truth, he hoped the cultist would reveal himself so that Tashau could enact his revenge.

The advisor nodded unhappily. “Very well, Emperor. Then we are left to determine which warden would be able to most quickly ride to Marin.”

Not interested in any more details, Tashau left the advisors and the outpost wardens to their discussions. He moved up the stairs, toward his bedchamber. At the top of the stairs, he found his uncle, Shauda, crouched before his chamber doors, shaking a pathetically mewling Rao.

Shauda looked over his shoulder to grin at Tashau. “Tash! You’re finally up and about!” He stood up and gripped Tashau in a firm hug, oblivious to the pain he was inflicting by doing so. “Good news about Sorai! Your mother was screaming at me to go out and get you when the wardens suddenly rode in. It’s a relief! Now that you’re up and the wardens have found Sorai, you can take your imperial seat back and I can get back to my sazis.”

“Have you seen her yet?” Tashau asked. He could hear his mother’s muffled weeping through the doors, even above the sound of Rao’s wails.

“Sorai? No, not a chance with how the servants swarmed her,” Shauda replied as he stared distractedly down at Rao. “I’ve been waiting here for Kia to come out. She was livid at you for taking off like that—claimed you were being insolent. I would tell you to apologize if I weren’t so proud. Good on you.”

Rao sniffled and shuddered at their feet, erupting into a loud sob. “Fishman, why?”

Shauda, who was never one to resist a sazi bred from his prized dam and sire, bent forward and picked Rao up by the scruff of his neck. “Fishman? Your fishman’s right here! Stop your crying. Your mama is alive! Come on, let’s go and get you some fish.”

Rao tried to wriggle away as Shauda tucked him under his arm. “No! No fish ever again!” He yowled. He continued the same cry as Shauda gripped Tashau’s shoulder and left, disappearing with Rao down the stairs.

Tashau stood a moment and stared after his uncle, before he turned to face the doors. He took a deep breath, running his hands nervously through his hair. Everything would be fine now. How bad could Sorai’s injuries possibly be? He threw open the doors of the suite and strode through the sitting room, quickly entering the bedroom.

There, he saw Sorai thrashing deliriously atop their bed. She had been stripped nude, and the same physician who had examined Tashau earlier now ministered to her. At first, Tashau’s mind didn’t process Sorai’s wounds, but as he drew closer, he couldn’t ignore them.

Glyphs! Red, oozing glyphs glared up at him from what had once been pristine skin, carved across every limb and over every one of her major organs. As the physician attempted to clean the largest glyph scab on her chest, Sorai sobbed in misery. What had the cultist done to her?

“It’s awful,” Kia whispered as she appeared at Tashau’s side. “I’ve never seen something so awful!”

Tashau slumped against a wall as his legs nearly gave out beneath him. It was bad enough that he carried the scars of his battle with the cultist, but he could not bear to see Sorai also damaged and in such a brutal way. They would never forget now. There was now a permanent, constant reminder of his failure to protect her. And he still didn’t know if she would live through it.

After a few more minutes of ministrations, the physician finally subdued Sorai’s spasms with a pattern, then turned to give Tashau a grim but comforting nod. She would need to rest.

As Tashau quietly exited the room, he vowed that he would atone for this injustice. He would find this cultist in Judath and make him pay.