Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
“I still don’t understand why I have to strike the blow,” he persisted.
“If Jelena knows it is you who will wield the knife, she is less likely to be afraid,” Gran replied. “If she dies without fear, the Sundering will go much more smoothly, thereby improving our chances of success.”
“And what about bringing her back? If she dies quickly, will it be easier to restore her to life?” Ashinji stared hard into Gran’s pale eyes, searching desperately for any shred of hope.
“I give you my word. If it’s within our power to do so, we will restore Jelena to life.”
If it’s within our power…
Ashinji stood and drifted over to a window overlooking a courtyard garden. He leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking down. He had first told Jelena he loved her in that very garden, only to have her run away from him in tears. He had buried the lock of Seijon’s hair there, as well, fulfilling his promise to the boy, if only in a symbolic way, to bring him to Alasiri.
Regret tasted so very bitter.
“Does Jelena understand what is to happen?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Gran replied. “In truth, it may be better if she doesn’t, at least not until it’s time.”
“If you can’t bring her back, then you may as well kill me too,” he said in a low voice.
Gran stood behind him now. “You’ve become very dear to me, Ashi.” She laid a hand on his forearm. He turned to face her; the tears upon her cheeks surprised him. “I wish there was some other way to accomplish what we must, but there isn’t. I know how much you love your Jelena, and I understand how death might seem preferable to going on without her. I was responsible for the deaths of my entire family, so believe me,
I understand
. But remember. You have a child now, and your child will need a father. Hold that thought close to your heart. Let it keep you strong.”
“When the time comes, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to go through with it,” Ashinji whispered.
“I have complete faith in you, dear one,” Gran replied. “You will not fail us.”
Ashinji glanced out the window one last time. “It’s getting late. Time we were leaving.”
***
Two days after they rode into Kerala Castle, Ashinji and Gran prepared to ride out again, this time mounted on swift Kerala-bred horses.
The morning of their departure, Gendan and Iruka, Kerala’s seneschal, met them at the main gates. Kami came with her husband and she brought along their son.
“I don’t know when my parents or my brother will return,” Ashinji said, bouncing the little boy in his arms. “You will have to continue to run things as best you can. Kerala is in a perilous position, lying so close to the Soldaran border. You may have to flee at a moment’s notice.”
“We’ll do whatever we have to, my lord,” Gendan answered. He reached out to caress his son’s wheaten head. “Don’t forget the troops that fought at the Saihama fords last fall are still billeted here.”
“Thessalina Preseren has no doubt taken her forces west to Tono to join the main Imperial Army,” Ashinji said. “I’m still worried, though. The Soldarans could still decide to march a division east to attack through Kerala as well.”
“You can rest assured we won’t allow Kerala to be taken by the humans, not while there’s one of us left standing and hale enough to hold a weapon,” Gendan vowed.
“My main concern is for the safety of Kerala’s folk,” Ashinji responded. “Protect them first, Gendan, even if it means abandoning Kerala to the Soldarans. If the worst happens, we have to survive as a people if we’re to win back our land some day.” He gently kissed the child’s cheek and returned him to his mother.
A small crowd of castle folk turned out to see them off. Many wept, some coming forward to clutch at Ashinji’s hand so they might press it to their foreheads in obeisance. He realized they were afraid, yet Ashinji could see their collective resolve in their faces. He knew that if they had to, his people would master their fear to defend themselves.
He and Gran climbed aboard their mounts then rode through the gates, Gendan, Kami, and Iruka keeping pace beside them.
At the far side of the bridge linking the castle to the mainland, Ashinji drew rein and turned to look back at the whitewashed walls of his birthplace. He wondered if he would ever see it again.
Gendan, his young son in his arms, Kami by his side, and Iruka stood in the shade beneath the guardhouse, watching. Ashinji raised a hand in farewell and Gendan raised his in salute. High overhead, a pair of hawks soared in the early summer sky, black shapes against azure. Their mating screams drifted on the warm air; the sound struck a melancholy chord in Ashinji’s heart.
When this summer is over and the hawks’ chicks have fledged, will my home still stand, or will it lie in ruins?
He sighed and pointed his horse’s head west toward Sendai.
***
“Did you reach her? Did you speak to my mother?” Ashinji burned with impatience.
Gran’s eyes fluttered open and she took a deep breath before answering. “Yes, Ashi, and I’m quite surprised I was able to. At such a distance, mindspeech without an amplifier is very difficult. We are still at least a week’s ride from Sendai, after all.”
After pushing their mounts hard for most of the day, the two travelers had stopped for the night at a small manor house set atop a low hill, surrounded by tidy parklands. The manor had been left in the care of its steward; the lord and his adult children had ridden south with the main army while the lady had fled north with her little ones. When Ashinji and Gran had arrived and introduced themselves, the steward willingly extended the hospitality of the manor in the name of his absent master. After serving them a meal of poached fish and salad in the sitting room, the steward had left them to themselves.
“Naturally, your mother was shocked to hear from me after so many years.” Gran relaxed into the comfortable embrace of the yellow silk-upholstered couch that served as the centerpiece of the room. “I couldn’t hold the link for very long,” she continued, “but I did manage to tell her I was on my way to Sendai and that you were with me.”
“Now that she knows I’m alive…she’ll…she’ll tell Jelena…” Ashinji’s voice trailed off as he swallowed a sudden spate of tears.
I should be delirious with joy
, he thought.
My wife knows I’m not dead!
And yet…
“I’m sorry for your pain, my son,” Gran murmured.
Weariness bent his shoulders and dragged at his eyelids. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. He departed the sitting room, leaving Gran alone with her thoughts.
***
“Captain Sakehera! You sure look good for a dead man,” the city guardsman observed.
“I’ve heard that a lot, lately.” Ashinji and Gran had just been admitted into the city through the smallest of its four gates and now found themselves surrounded by a clutch of curious guards. Ashinji’s gelding snorted, prancing in place, tail lashing. He patted the animal’s neck to calm it, but his own anxiety only fueled its fractiousness.
“A lot’s happened since you’ve been gone, sir,” the guard said. “The army’s already marched south.”
“I expected as much.” Near desperate to ride on toward the castle, Ashinji had to force himself not to scream for the guards to get out of his way. “Please. I need to go to my wife now.”
“The king’s deathly ill, Captain.” The other guards nodded in somber confirmation. “We hear it’s the plague. The princess has hardly left his side for days.”
“Ai, Goddess,” Gran sighed. “This is a catastrophe.”
“We must go now. Please let us through!” Fear turned Ashinji’s request into a harsh command. The guards melted aside. Ashinji drummed his heels against his horse’s flanks and the gelding broke into a ground-eating lope. With Gran’s mount close behind, the horse pounded up the avenue toward Sendai Castle.
An eerie stillness reigned over a city that had once bustled with sound and motion. Only the clatter of hoofbeats broke the quiet. Shop fronts turned blank, shuttered faces to the street; the few people abroad in the lanes and alleys scurried like scared rabbits seeking sanctuary. All of Sendai had battened down, as if awaiting the arrival of a massive storm.
At the summit of the avenue, as its feet touched the sand of the parade ground, Ashinji whipped the horse into a gallop then bent low over its neck as the gelding hurtled straight for the open gates.
When the horse barreled through, scattering the guards who had come to investigate, Ashinji paid no heed to their cries. He fixed his gaze on the massive iron-banded doors, and like a thrown knife, the horse shot toward them. Gran’s mare had fallen far behind, but Ashinji remained heedless to all but his goal.
A heartbeat shy of disaster, he hauled back on the reins and the gelding slid to a stop amid a shower of gravel, tossing its head in distress. Ashinji vaulted from the saddle as the horse pirouetted away with a snort, then sprinted toward the broad, shallow steps leading up to the entrance.
Close, so close!
He called to her, with his voice and with mindspeech.
She answered…
…and he saw her running toward him, arms outstretched, crying his name.
She fell into his arms, sobbing.
His own tears mingled with hers as he covered her face and throat with kisses, whispering her name each time his lips touched her skin.
Nothing else mattered, except her.
Ashi, is it really you?” Jelena whispered.
“Yes, it’s really me. I’ve come back to you, my love.” He clung to her with such strength, she could barely breathe, and yet she wished he could hold her even closer.
Cries of astonishment echoed against the whitewashed stone façade of the castle as a small crowd of guards formed about them.
“Ashinji! My son!” The guards fell back, bowing in respect, as Amara swept through them. Jelena shifted in Ashinji’s arms so he could see his mother. For a few heartbeats, mother and son gazed at each other, and then Jelena relinquished her hold so Ashinji might go to her.
“My child,” Amara sighed as she pulled him against her breast. “My son is returned to me.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” Ashinji whispered. He laid his head on his mother’s shoulder and wept as Jelena looked on, her heart full to bursting. Amara murmured words of comfort, stroking Ashinji’s face and hair until he regained control of his emotions. As he stepped out of her embrace, Amara gasped.
“Son, your Talent…” Her hand lifted to her mouth, then fluttered back to her side. “You are no longer blocked! How is this possible?”
Ashinji shook his head. “Never mind about that now, Mother.”
“Greetings, Amara. It is good to see you again.”
An elderly woman stepped from the circle of onlookers. She carried herself with the unmistakable air of an aristocrat, and yet Jelena sensed no arrogance in her. She wore a simple blue cotton robe and split leather riding skirt, her silver-blond hair held back by a braided leather cord.
“It is good to see you as well, Chiana,” Amara replied, smiling. “The news of your return is already the talk of Sendai’s magical community. We are in sore need of your help.” The two women clasped hands and stared into each other’s eyes. They stood thus for several heartbeats, then both nodded and released their hold.
Ashinji had taken Jelena back into his arms again. “Jelena, this is Lady Chiana Hiraino, my friend and companion,” he said. “If not for her, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“Then I owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid, Lady Chiana,” Jelena said.
“Please, child, call me Gran,” the old woman instructed, “and you owe me nothing.” She turned to Ashinji. “She is every bit as beautiful as you’ve described, Ashi.” Jelena ducked her head, blushing with embarrassment, still uncomfortable with high praise, even now. “Look at me, Jelena,” Gran commanded softly. Jelena raised her eyes to meet the other woman’s. They were ice-pale, yet they shone with warmth and kindness. “Your husband says that were it not for me, he wouldn’t be here now, but he’s wrong.
You
are the reason Ashi fought so hard to survive.”
Gran turned to Amara. “We have much to discuss,” she stated.
Amara nodded. “Yes, but all that can wait. You must be exhausted from your long journey.”