The Heir (Fall of the Swords Book 3) (21 page)

“Just for fun, Lady Water,” Snarling Jaguar said, smiling, “let's compare the talents of Flowering Pine and Guarding Bear, eh? How are they similar? First, no one can quantify those talents. No one knows just how far their talents will go toward protecting them, not to mention promoting their fortunes. I've heard it whispered that Flowering Pine wouldn't have become Flying Arrow's consort without the intervention of her talent. Perhaps that's true as well for her having conceived the twins.

“Your father's talent is similar. Remember how he saved me from an assassin? He told me later how he stumbled and caught the hem of my robe, causing me to fall as the assassin struck. He claims his talent tripped him. He told me of a few other incidents in which his talent intervened either to save him from certain death or to ingratiate him into another person's confidence.

“I question why these two people share a talent that's so rare only one person in a hundred thousand possesses it. Finally, why does the Heir look so much like Brazen Bear?”

Rippling Water acted surprised. “He's Flaming Arrow's grandfather?”

“You knew already!” accused Snarling Jaguar.

She nodded sheepishly. “My mother discovered the truth just after she cleaned out Nest. She admonished me never to tell.”

“If Flying Arrow knew, he'd have Flaming Wolf executed and Flowering Pine banished. Well, at least we know Flaming Arrow's maternal grandparents. Who do you think fathered him?”

“I honestly don't know, Lord Emperor.”

“Neither do I, Lady,” he replied, staring into her face. He plucked several grapes and popped them in his mouth, never averting his gaze.

He knows something, Rippling Water thought, and he's challenging me to ask. The question of Flaming Arrow's paternity had always bothered her, and she found she didn't want to know.

“Speaking of paternity,” Snarling Jaguar said, “I told your mother years ago what I'm about to tell you. Purring Tiger is your sister.”

“Impossible!”

“Your mother didn't believe me either. I think Guarding Bear fathered her, not Scowling Tiger. Purring Tiger's mother, Fleeting Snow, who now lives on the southern coast of my Empire, refuses to confirm or deny my suspicions. This is what I think happened:

“Scowling Tiger betrays Brazen Bear. Fleeting Snow mates with Scowling Tiger to make his life miserable. Just before you were born, Guarding Bear retires from all positions but Prefect so he can finally avenge his brother. Fleeting Snow tires of the whole affair and wants out. Scowling Tiger wants a child, all his brothers and their sons having died in the civil war. After impregnating your mother with you, Guarding Bear goes north to assassinate Scowling Tiger. The retired General's talent intervenes. At its instigation, Fleeting Snow intercepts him and tells him instead to impregnate her. Satisfied to exact his vengeance that way, Guarding Bear leaves Scowling Tiger's head on his shoulders. Fleeting Snow bears a daughter. Scowling Tiger trades Fleeting Snow to me. Purring Tiger inherits the fortress.” Snarling Jaguar spread his metal-encased hands. “It's all so simple, Lady Water.”

Her eyes round, Rippling Water covered her mouth. “We
were
born the same day!”

“I've seen images of Purring Tiger. Only the hair and eye color differ. Facial structure, carriage, height are all the same. About her talent, however, I don't know.”

She barely heard him, still processing the implications. From somewhere in her shock, she heard him say something else. “What did you say?”

“That leaves us, Lady Water, with this mysterious bandit Seeking Sword.”

“The one who has the Heir Sword,” she said distractedly.

“Why do you think
that
, eh?”

She looked at him closely, saw his guarded gaze. “Instinct, intuition, whatever you call it. Healing Hand and my father participated in the siege of Seat. On the evening of the attack, Flaming Arrow greeted them near the ruins of Lofty Lion's castle. Both swear by the Infinite it was Flaming Arrow. Flaming Arrow swears by the Infinite he was inside the fortress. Lord Emperor Jaguar, both Healing Hand and my father have known the Heir all his life. Even
they
couldn't tell it was Seeking Sword! My father and Seeking Sword embraced, by the Infinite, and
still
my father thought he was Flaming Arrow!

“The number of similarities between the two of them scares me to the core of my being, Lord Emperor. If I didn't know otherwise, I'd say they were identical twins.”

“As would I. Odd that such a disgusting man as Icy Wind could father a natural leader like Seeking Sword. Very odd.”

Rippling Water met his gaze, the unspoken question between them.

Was Icy Wind really Seeking Sword's father?

I
n the annals of history we find not a single instance of an Emperor's personally trying to assassinate another Emperor. Open combat and battlefield duels, of those we have many. Of assassinations, not one.—
The Fall of the Swords
, by Keeping Track.

* * *

Flying Arrow stared at Lofty Lion in disgust.

Looking each other over, the two men stood on the north bank of the River Placid, forty miles northeast of Emparia City, ten miles south of the border. In the fifteen years since their last meeting, both men had aged more than the elapsed time would suggest.

Flying Arrow's temples were gray now. Emaciation had begun to exhibit itself on his already thin frame. A great weight stooped his shoulders. Blue-black half-moons of insomnia bagged the skin beneath his eyes. He was a shadow of the Emperor who had once conquered the north.

Lofty Lion had almost no hair at all, only silver wisps above each ear tufting the mottled, scaly scalp. Gnarled, trembling hands—constructed of shriveled skin, prominent vein, knobby knuckle—clutched a polished staff. Narrow nostril dripped nasal mucus, sleeved on crusted cloth. Twisted posture suggested crimped spine. Spittle slathered a prognathous jaw, the mouth nearly toothless, two rotted stubs remaining. A cystoid larynx swelled the throat, like an apple half-swallowed. The neck was a corded, wrinkled pillar, buttressing jowls that sagged in scaly folds below cheekbones collapsed into the face. Glistening, bloodshot, jaundiced eyes peered like dregs from sunken sockets below a precipitous, lupine brow. He was a ghost of the Emperor who had once ruled the north.

“Why can't you leave me to die in peace, scum!” Lofty Lion said, his voice acid to eardrums, as repulsive as his looks. His smell was worse.

“That's no way to talk to the man who spared your life!”

“Put it in your back passage! I don't owe you anything but the misery you've made of my life!”

“Ungrateful wretch! I not only let you live but I gave you a son. Why did it take you so long to get here, anyway?”

“Am I a lackey to obey your summons instantly? No! I'm a
ban
dit. I make my own rules. Put me to death if that displeases you!”

Flying Arrow gripped the hilt of the Imperial Sword tightly. “That's what you want, isn't it? If I have you killed, our son will surely turn against me, which would please you immensely. You've probably spent your life poisoning his mind against the Eastern Empire, eh? Tell me you didn't try!”

Lofty Lion grinned toothlessly.

“What you forgot is that nothing you could say makes him anyone other than my son. Who
wouldn't
come running when I offer the Heirship? Who … Why are you laughing?!”

“No reason, Lord Emperor,” Lofty Lion said. “What you say is true.”

The old man's sudden submission defused Flying Arrow's anger. “I'm glad you realize the futility of your actions. How is the boy, anyway?”

“He's doing well, Lord. Not long ago, unfortunately, we had a difference of opinion. We haven't spoken since. I keep track of him through mutual friends, though. He's to mate in two days—lovely woman, she really is. Oh, you should see him handle a
sword
! You'd be proud. Also, he's a great archer, better than Scowling Tiger ever was. The boy's stubborn, though. In sum, I'd say he's an admirable young man. I'm curious to know how such regality sprang from
your
empty quiver.”

Flying Arrow almost took his head. With an effort he sheathed the Sword, knowing the goading deliberate.

Lofty Lion grinned mightily, seeming unafraid.

“Infinite grant me patience,” Flying Arrow said. “What's his name?”

“Seeking Sword.”

“
What
?!” Flying Arrow's left arm went suddenly numb.

“Purring Tiger will be his mate!”

Pain constricted across Flying Arrow's chest.

“He wields the Northern Heir Sword!”

Agony splintered through his right temple.

“My revenge is now complete!”

The knobbed end of the staff crashed into the side of his head just above the ear and Flying Arrow knew no more.

* * *

He woke to antiseptic smells and bright lights and the face of the Imperial Medacor Soothing Spirit.

“Please be still, Lord Emperor,” the Imperial Medacor said, emanating peace and serenity. “You've suffered a fractured skull, a massive coronary infarction and an aneurism. You've lost a lot of blood and the use of your left arm. The right sensorimotor cortices and temporal lobes of your brain have extensive damage. I saved as much as I could. Please don't speak yet, Lord. You've been unconscious for about twelve hours. The Lord General Scratching Wolf and a medacor found you and, uh, the other man about forty miles from here. We know he struck you with his staff. We're holding him until you're fit enough to decide his fate.” Soothing Spirit looked toward the door. “The Lord Heir wishes to see you. When he heard you'd almost died …” Soothing Spirit winced. “He rushed back here from the border. I'll let him see you only on the condition that you don't try to speak or send, Lord Emperor.”

Flying Arrow tried to nod. Blinding pain rewarded his effort.

Soothing Spirit touched his forehead, draining away the pain. Standing, he left the room.

When Flying Arrow opened his eyes again, the Heir was peering into his face.

“Hello, Father,” Flaming Arrow said. “You scared us all. You're too young for the Infinite. I'm too young to take your place. The Lord Spirit tells me you don't have the use of your arm. So what? What do you need an arm for, eh? You have all the servants in the world to do what you can't.

“Well, I guess you can't speak, but you can blink? Good, blink once for yes and twice for no, all right?

“Promise me something, Father. I want you to promise me you'll live. While I understand how you might not want to live without a whole body, the Empire needs you more than you need that arm, eh? So, please promise me you'll live.

“You didn't blink. Don't you
want
to live? Two. Well,
I
want you to live, Father! I'll see that you get the best of care.”

Flying Arrow watched his son in wonder. He hadn't known that Flaming Arrow cared so much.

“That, uh, prisoner died a few minutes ago. He kept screaming for his staff, but we couldn't move it. It kills everyone who touches it. I didn't know it's a talisman. I didn't know it kept him alive. He claimed to be Lofty Lion. Probing Gaze says his name was Icy Wind, a hermit who lived near the Elk Raiders. Who
was
he, Father? Was he whom he claimed to be? Just blink once for yes, eh? He
was
Lofty Lion? You left him alive, hoping he'd lead you to the Heir Sword?”

One blink.

Flaming Arrow bowed his head, nodding. “He never did. Too bad. That would've solved this problem with the bandits. I can see why he named his son Seeking Sword. The Imperial Sword that he seeks won't help anyone now, though, not without the Heir Sword. Lofty Lion was our last hope for a peaceful resolution, eh Father? I think your plan was a good one. I'm sorry Lofty Lion never led you to the Heir Sword. I'm sorry your plan failed, especially this way.”

Flaming Arrow looked at him, a single tear dripping from an eye bloodshot with sleeplessness. “I want you to recover, Father. Please tell me you'll try?
Please
!”

Moved by his son's pleading, Flying Arrow blinked away a tear.

“Good, Father, that pleases me. Thank you. I'll feel much more at ease knowing you want to live.” The Heir stood and began to pace.

Flying Arrow regarded his son, regretting he had learned so little about this man, his Heir. His ritual was just a formality. In the few minutes they had spent together in this room, the Emperor knew Flaming Arrow to be a loyal citizen. More important, a caring and devoted son.

“Why are you crying, Father?” Flaming Arrow returned to the bedside and dabbed at his father's eyes. “You'll be all right. When they found you, half your skull was gone and your brains exposed. The Infinite must be watching over you because a medacor found you and put your head back together. How fortunate, eh? Aged Oak's running the Empire until you recover, which lets me complete my ritual. Is that all right with you, Father?”

One blink.

“Good. Mother wants to see you, if you're up to it. Yes?”

One blink.

“I'll send her in if Soothing Spirit approves.” Flaming Arrow hugged his father and kissed him on the forehead, the only part of the cranium not bandaged.

After his son had gone, Flying Arrow closed his eyes, relieved and grateful that a semblance of love existed between them. Knowing he had been a poor father, his parenting skills inadequate, he wondered why his son bore him no grudge. Perhaps he did, and chose to conceal it while he recuperated. Flying Arrow desperately wanted to believe otherwise.

Flowering Pine was at his bedside when he woke. Red rimmed her eyes from crying, her hair disheveled. “Lofty Lion almost got the last laugh,” she said.

He closed his eyes and wished her gone.

“That wasn't very tactful, was it?” she said. “I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anything else to say. We haven't been close in such a long time. I feel like I don't even know you anymore. Yes, I know, we have sex every month or so, but that's not the same. You don't say much to me because I so love to gossip and you have secrets to keep.” She looked toward the doorway, frowning. “I'm proud of our son. You know that without my saying so, but he doesn't. I can't think of a way to tell him. I get so teary when I try to talk to him that I have to turn away. My own son's a stranger to me. Yes, I know, it's more my fault than his. Talking to him is so difficult. He just stares at me with those big gray-blue eyes, as if he wants something from me. I just don't know what he wants. He won't ever tell me.

“Just like you're staring at me now!” Frowning, she looked away.

He realized she was very lonely. He knew he couldn't give her the companionship she really needed. Being Emperor extracted its price. He wondered if the time had come to let her go, to release her from her prison high in Emparia Castle. He knew she deserved a better fate than the five other consorts he had put to death. They hadn't borne him children. She had. With his right hand, he grasped one of hers and squeezed, despite the effort it cost him.

Flowering Pine returned her gaze to his face and looked puzzled at his sadness. “Are you in pain, Lord? Shall I fetch the Imperial Medacor?”

He blinked once to spare them both further discomfort. Understanding was something she had never had in abundance.

She looked bewildered. “Oh! One blink! All right, Lord. Right away!” she said, bowing several times as she backed from the room.

What is she so afraid of? the Emperor wondered.

Soothing Spirit strode in, robes flowing about him elegantly. He sat beside the Emperor, his ambience settling upon Flying Arrow like a warm blanket. “Nothing wrong beside what I told you already, Lord Emperor. The Lady Pine thought something was amiss. The Lord Oak's waiting to see you, Lord. If you feel tired, I'll send him away.”

He blinked twice.

“All right, Lord, but he's the last visitor today,” Soothing Spirit admonished, bowing and leaving.

Flying Arrow closed his eyes, feeling more tired than he had let on.

His debilitation seemed to be eliciting strange responses from those around him. He wondered if their pity for his physical incapacitation engendered these reactions. Both Flaming Arrow and Flowering Pine had certainly acted out of character. Or
had
they?

Thinking tired him, so he tried to quiet his thoughts.

“Glad to see you're all right, Lord Emperor,” Aged Oak said, disrupting Flying Arrow's quiet concentration. The old General bowed and eased his small frame to the stool at bedside. “Why didn't you tell anybody you were meeting that old carp, eh? Secret business? Yeah, well, I'd have concealed my fishing holes too, I suppose.” Aged Oak had taken on the Cove dialect, common to the coast of the Eastern Empire, where he had grown up. Long ago, the General had adopted the more formal language of the court. Now, he seemed comfortable enough, in these unusual circumstances, to revert to the dialect he had shed. “Glad you're alive, old chum. I like that boy of yours, but something's got to be done about his stubbornness before he'll be any good on the throne.

“At last count, Lord Emperor, we've taken twenty thousand heads up north and lost only four. By the time the Heir's done, we'll have hauled aboard thirty, easy. That fortress's always going to be a tough clam to pry apart, though. There don't seem to be nothing we can do about it either. After this Bandit Seeking Sword squirmed past our patrols into the fortress, Purring Tiger locked the doors of the place tighter than a chastity belt! I can't understand it. There's always somebody disgruntled with a new command—always! Yet not one bandit has escaped her net in ten days. Purring Tiger's probably fornicating herself silly to bait the bandits to stay. That hag's got something up her robes, is all I can figure. More than likely Seeking Sword's weapon, eh?

“Did you hear the Lady Water summoned Lord Bear south? Seems she was visiting the Emperor Jaguar on Matriarchy business and needed the Lord Bear to help her bring the barbarian to keel, or something. What good he'll be is beyond me. Fought well up north, like the General we all knew. He just wasn't there for anything else, like he's always dreaming. As Spying Eagle says, non compost mentis, which I guess means rot for brains. Seems like the General died when the Matriarch died.

“Beside the wharf, I wanted to thank you, Lord Emperor, for loaning me Spying Eagle and Healing Hand. With those two, you wouldn't need to lift an oar in ruling the Empire. 'Course, gaining their loyalty's like pulling spines off a sea urchin. They're always squatting in my mind. Got good intentions, though, both of them.

“Nothing going on I can't handle, Lord. I'll be needing to sail up north to help the Heir when he takes the next head. 'Course, Scratching Wolf could do as good as me. What do you say, Lord Emperor? Shall I put Scratching Wolf in command of the fleet while I'm haulin' the ship of state by its hawsers?”