The Grace of Kings (49 page)

Kuni administered Pan with the same care he had managed Zudi.

Every day, he spent hours dealing with the minutiae of getting the city back to some semblance of normalcy after the chaos of the conquest and the ensuing looting. He reorganized the surrendered soldiers and began to get to know their commanders. He met with the elders of the city and the surrounding villages to take measure of their thoughts and concerns.

Rin Coda, meanwhile, put his feelers out to the unsavory criminal underside of Pan, as was his wont.

“The king and I will need the support of all the business interests of Pan, especially yours,” Rin said, toasting the men assembled in the private dining hall of Pan's most luxurious inn. They were leaders of smuggling gangs, heads of secret societies, even “legitimate” business­men who made most of their profits in other, darker ways.

“As long as the king is reasonable, we will be reasonable,” the man who called himself Scorpion said. He claimed to be the owner of Pan's most lucrative underground gambling dens. Two earrings made of shark's teeth dangled from his earlobes. “But why has the king not made an effort to secure Thoco Pass?”

Rin nodded at him, indicating that he should continue.

“In my line of business,” Scorpion said, keeping his voice low so that everyone held their breath and strained to hear him, “much of my profit comes from promises being kept. For example, a man might promise that he would pay everything back within a day if the house would just spot him another thousand gold pieces for the next bet.”

Rin nodded, trying to determine if this story was going anywhere.

“I like to believe that people keep their promises, but it's always better if you can be sure. And the best way to be sure is to make sure the man understands that I have the power to hurt him a great deal if he tries to renege.”

Rin tried to keep the impatience out of his voice. “A charming bit of advice, Master Scorpion. The king and I will keep that in mind.”

Scorpion smiled. “King Thufi, the princeps, has promised that anyone who captured Emperor Erishi would be King of Géfica, a new Tiro state. But it seems to me that if King Kuni wants to be sure that the promise is kept, he ought to show others that he has teeth. Any claim becomes more legitimate when it is backed up by arms.

“And any army that wants to come into Géfica must pass through Thoco Pass.”

The next day, Rin Coda secretly dispatched an army to Thoco Pass.

Sure, Kuni had asked him to send messengers to Mata Zyndu as soon as possible and invite him to come to Pan to share in the victory and help defend it, but Rin always believed in self-reliance: Why ask for others to help when you were capable of taking care of everything yourself?

Besides, Pan was already secure, thanks to his own plan, and why should Mata share in a glory that belonged to Kuni and his loyal followers alone? Wouldn't it be better if just Kuni became King of Géfica? A man who didn't think of himself first was not someone the gods favored.

He was sure Kuni would agree.

Did you enjoy sleeping with Kuni Garu, Tazu the Unpredictable?

Ah, so you saw, Lutho. I looked lovely, didn't I?

He's harder to tempt than you thought, isn't he? I note that he didn't pick you as a favorite.

A matter I blame on his taste. Well, I had my fun, and that's what matters.

Where are Kiji the Storm-Bringer, the Twins of Ice and Fire, and
Fithowéo the Warlike? I thought they're the ones most invested in this war?

Those three birds and the wild dog are sulking. While their champions are engaged elsewhere, this nobody came in and stole the show.

Such is the danger of guiding mortals.

Don't act so innocent, you tricky old turtle. You've been plotting this
move for years. I was wondering when your man was going to make his move.

When you want to catch a big fish, you have to let out a long line.

This isn't over, you know? Winning is easy; staying as the winner, now that's hard.

Well said, but it all depends on what you mean by winning.

I'm heading home to Wolf's Paw; there's more fun to be had.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

THE SLAUGHTER

WOLF'S PAW: THE ELEVENTH MONTH IN THE FOURTH YEAR OF THE REIGN OF RIGHTEOUS FORCE.

Admiral Filo Kaima of the Imperial armada had only one thing on his mind: put as much distance between his ships and that madman Mata Zyndu as possible. Images of berserking rebels coming over the horizon like a swarm of bloody demons haunted him, awake or asleep.

It was a few days before he realized that he actually held the upper hand.

Since Zyndu had burned all the ships in Toaza Harbor, the rebels now had no navy left and no way to get off Wolf's Paw. What were the rebels going to do, swim out to fight him on the seas?

Kaima, now the highest-ranking military officer of the empire, gathered the dejected Imperial ships and airships and reversed course. He would set up a blockade around the northern and southern shores of Wolf's Paw. Since the great whirlpool that was Tazu made the Kishi Channel unnavigable, this would ensure that no ship could go to or from Wolf's Paw.

The empire might have lost on land, but they could lay siege to the whole island and trap Mata Zyndu and all his rebels here until Pan sent another army.

Zyndu wants to gamble with all the lives of his men? Well, let him.

Mata Zyndu began to call himself the Marshal of Cocru. Torulu Pering drafted a proclamation, and none of the kings and nobles on Wolf's Paw made a peep of objection.

Mata didn't wait for an order from King Thufi. That shepherd boy would be nothing without him and his uncle. Réfiroa alone was worth ten Thufis.
He
, not Pashi Roma, had saved the rebellion from certain defeat.
He
, not Thufi, had conquered the invincible Kindo Marana.
He
, and no one else, had overcome an army of forty thousand with two thousand berserkers. He had not resorted to tricks or strategems; he had won by pure courage and battle lust.

It was the fairest and therefore the sweetest victory in the world.

Thufi was a figurehead, and Mata didn't need him. Torulu Pering was right: Whatever he wanted and thought he deserved, Mata had to take for himself. Wallowing in self-pity had been foolish; the world respected a man who respected himself.

The weak and sniveling men around him disgusted him. Traitors and cowards, they did not deserve to be called noble at all. Though they might have been born with the right names, they did not have even one-tenth the courage of his guard, Ratho Miro, a peasant boy, or one-hundredth the spirit of his brother, Kuni Garu, a farmer's son.

Mata evicted King Dalo from the palace in Toaza and took it over. Owi Ati and Huye Nocano, the Faça and Gan commanders who had come to Mata's aid during the Battle of Wolf's Paw only when it was clear that he would be victorious, were put under house arrest until he could try them as traitors. He was not fooled by their halfhearted support after he had already won the day.

But Namen and Marana he treated with respect. They were not great warriors in his estimation, but he respected their stations. There was no shame for men who strove to carry out their duties but were denied victory due to the limitation of their abilities—and how could anyone expect to win against
him
, Fithowéo incarnate? He gave Namen's sword—since the body was not available—a burial befitting a duke, and he even allowed Marana to keep his sword. Marana's small frame had surprised him, and he could not understand why Kikomi had chosen this sallow, weak man over him—more evidence of her lack of judgment and true nobility, perhaps. Faced with such an inferior specimen of manhood, Mata found himself unable to even summon feelings of jealousy at this “rival” for Kikomi's affections—it was beneath him. He might even magnanimously ask Marana to serve him one day like the ancient heroes did with their defeated foes—he hadn't thought that far yet.

I am the princeps,
he thought,
first among equals.
No, that was not quite right. What other mortal man could compare to him in valor and strength of arms? He would march into Pan and put his foot on the neck of Emperor Erishi. He would be the foremost hero of the rebellion. He was the Conqueror, the
Hegemon
, a title of legends and myths.

Only then would the Zyndu name be finally redeemed.

But first, he had to get his army off Wolf's Paw and into Géjira, from where he would march through Thoco Pass and into the Immaculate City.

The blockade of Wolf's Paw by the armada presented only a minor difficulty. He set his army to the task of building new ships, and the island's verdant hills were soon denuded of trees.

An old woman came to see the new Marshal Zyndu. She walked with the aid of a cane, and her hair was all white. But her face glowed with health and vigor above her shawl of shark skin and necklace of shark's teeth.

“I can speak to Tazu,” the old woman said in a trembling, piercing voice that made listeners wince.

The priests of Tazu shouted in outrage.

“We're the messengers of Tazu.”

“She's nothing but a fraud, a witch who fools the gullible villagers!”

“Throw her off the cliffs, and let her speak to Tazu directly!”

But Mata silenced them with a dismissive wave. He took perverse pleasure in seeing these men howl like young children at the smallest hint that their authority was challenged. To Mata, the priests seemed of a kind with the effete and greedy nobles and kings that he now found so contemptible.

This old woman, on the other hand, had courage. She stood without trembling in front of the most powerful man in the rebellion and looked him straight in the eyes. Mata liked that.

“What message from Tazu do you bring me?” he asked.

“Tazu can help you leave Wolf's Paw. But first, he must be given sacrifices.”

The old woman refused to tell him any specifics until Mata dismissed all others from the audience hall. Then she whispered in his ear.

Mata's eyes grew wide. He shrank back. “Who
are
you?”

“That is a foolish question,” the old woman said. But she didn't sound like an old woman anymore. Her voice was deep and sonorous, and the walls of the audience hall shook as she spoke. She sounded like waves striking against the sea wall and strong currents swirling in the deep.

She stood with her back straight and held her cane like a weapon. She smiled, and her face was as fierce as a shark's. “You already know the answer.”

Mata stared at her. “You ask for much.” Though he tried to keep his voice steady, he trembled.

“No,
you
ask for much,” the old woman said. “I'm merely hungry.”

Mata continued to stare at her. He shook his head. “I can't. I won't.”

The old woman chuckled. “You're wondering what Kuni Garu would think of you if you did as I asked?”

Mata said nothing.

The old woman shrugged. “I've said my piece. Do as you will.” And suddenly, she was frail and ancient again as she shuffled her way out of the audience hall.

A whole fleet of ships was constructed within twenty days. With steady keels and tightly joined, smooth hulls, they bobbed gently in Toaza Harbor, gleaming with fresh paint. Mata's army had worked as hard and well as they had fought.

“Marshal Zyndu is a master shipwright! Is there anything on earth that Marshal Zyndu does not do a hundred times better than any other man?”

“How dare you compare Marshal Zyndu merely to other men? He is a general sent to us by the gods!”

“How dare you suggest the Marshal Zyndu is merely a mortal? He is Tazu incarnate, master of the seas and waves!”

Marshal Zyndu only half listened to the nobles and courtiers vying to outdo one another in their flattery. He knew that they were foolish, but he couldn't help how good he felt as they talked. Their words tickled his heart and made him feel like he was floating on clouds.

“Enough,” he said. The chattering voices around him stopped immediately. “We set sail for the Big Island tomorrow. Let Kaima come to us on the sea, and we will crush him as easily we crushed Namen and Marana on land!”

And everyone cheered.

That night, the greatest storm in living memory swept through Toaza Harbor.

The howling of the winds clashing against one another caused those living closest to the sea to go deaf. The waves smashing against the coast were so high that they flooded the palace. The streets of Toaza turned into canals, and sharks swam through them in the morning, as dazed as the citizens watching them from third-story windows.

The fleet of new ships disappeared. Only a few broken masts and smashed boards were left. A thousand men who had already boarded the ships to break them in and keep watch were killed.

When he heard the news, Mata Zyndu ordered everyone to search for the old woman who had come to see him. But though Toaza was turned upside down, no trace of her could be found.

“Is this the price for defying the gods?” Mata talked to himself rather than the cowering courtiers. “Or perhaps this is a reminder of the weight of history?”