Authors: Joanne Bertin

Dragon and Phoenix (67 page)

BOOK: Dragon and Phoenix

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Maurynna rubbed his nose. “Silly,” she said affectionately, her good humor restored. Beyond him she could see Trissin and Jhem coming up.

Boreal snorted, the noise almost covering up the small, wistful sound behind her. Maurynna looked over her shoulder.

Shima was staring at Boreal like a hungry little boy at a tray of sweets that he wasn’t allowed to touch. A thought came to her.

“We’ll have to ride to Mount Kajhenral, won’t we?” she asked.

A nod was all the answer Shima spared her.

“And if—And
when
we make our escape, we’ll have to ride like hell to get away, yes?”

Shima came back to himself at that. “Spirits, yes! They’ll try to ride us down.”

“They won’t ride Boreal down. But your horse will never be able to keep up with him,” Maurynna said flatly.

Shima drew himself up. “Pirii will do what she can,” he said. But she heard the faint note of defeat.

This is probably useless
, Maurynna thought as she looked once more at the Llysanyins.
If Linden couldn’t convince them before … Ah, well, they won’t trample me for asking.

Yet before she said a word, Trissin nipped at his brother to chase him away, and strode up to Shima. The iron grey Llysanyin rested his nose on the man’s shoulder. When Shima—whose eyes were huge—didn’t move, Trissin nudged him sharply and swung broadside to him.

“Mount up,” an astonished Maurynna said to the stunned Shima. “You’ve been chosen.”

“The child you bear is a danger to mine,” Shei-Luin said. “Whose is it?”

“I never knew his name. He wouldn’t tell me, so that I couldn’t curse him and his ancestors.” The pale, bloated face turned to her, eyes red from crying.

Nama was oddly calm; surely she must know why Shei-Luin was here, and what it meant. Calm—or too exhausted to care.

Nama pushed herself up from the bed and staggered to her feet. Her swollen belly dragged at her; she shuffled across the floor to stand face-to-face with Shei-Luin. Her lips pulled back in a terrible parody of a smile.

At last, Shei-Luin, thought with contempt, the rabbit stands up for herself. But she suppressed a shiver. For an instant, with her red-rimmed, bloodshot
eyes and grimace, Nama looked like one of the demon masks actors wore onstage.

The burning eyes fixed on Shei-Luin. Said Nama, “I don’t know who he was, or where he came from. All I know is that he looked like Xiane, and that was why my uncle had him brought to the imperial city—so he could get me with child.”

The voice, harsh as a crow’s with weeping, rose to a shriek with the next words. “He raped me—again and again and again! He would tell me he was sorry—hah!—then force himself on me. For moons it went on, no matter how I begged, no matter how I fought, until I was pregnant. Only then did it end!” There was no longer any trace of the pretty young girl in the contorted face.

Nama turned sharply, nearly falling. She showed none of the heavy grace common with pregnant women; it was as if she hated the child within her so much that she could reach no compromise with what it did to her body. She pointed at her maid huddled at the foot of the bed, her finger stabbing the air. “And she helped! When I fought too hard, she held my hands down! Always she watched me so that I might not kill myself to escape my torment and my shame.”

The maid cowered from that accusing finger. Apologies and pleas for mercy poured from her lips, a tangled jumble of words that made no sense.

Shei-Luin swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. This was not what she had expected. She had thought to confront another player for the throne. Instead, she found a victim.

It was the sight of Yesuin and me together that gave Jhanun the idea for this atrocity, she thought. I will never be able to remember the joy I had with Yesuin without remembering what this poor child went through.
And she would never see Yesuin again to forge new memories.

Jhanun would pay; Shei-Luin vowed that. But there was justice that could be dealt out now.

“Do you wish mercy for this woman?” Shei-Luin asked.

Nama looked over her shoulder. “Are you mad? No! I don’t! Give me a knife, and I will cut Zuia’s throat myself!”

“Cutting her throat would be merciful,” Shei-Luin pointed out. To Murohshei she said, “Call in two guards. Tell them to take this woman to the executioner. She is to die the death of a thousand cuts.”

Murohshei bowed and left the room.

The maid screamed and threw herself at Shei-Luin’s feet. “Mercy, have mercy upon me, lady!”

“Why?” Shei-Luin asked coldly. “You, a woman, aided in the rape of another woman. You had no mercy then.”

The maid wailed in terror.

Two of the women guards of the harem entered. Shei-Luin stepped aside, glancing at the guards’ faces. One look at their hard expressions as they each seized an arm told her that Murohshei had informed them of Zuia’s crime. Good; there would be no taking of bribes to look the other way while the maid escaped. It had happened, she knew. It would not this time.

The hulking women picked the maid up from the floor. Zuia screamed and fought like a madwoman. She was a strong woman, but the guards were stronger, and trained warriors. They dragged the maid to the door.

“Wait,” Shei-Luin said.

The guards stopped. They frowned, no doubt fearing a reprieve for the prisoner, a mercy they did not agree with. Zuia fell silent, her eyes filled with hope.

“When it’s over,” Shei-Luin said, “her head is to be struck from her body and nailed to the city gate as is the custom. Throw her body to the dogs.”

Zuia fainted. The guards smiled grimly; their eyes said,
It is no more than she deserves
.

“We hear and obey, Empress,” they said. There was a respect in the words Shei-Luin had never heard before.

After Murohshei closed the door once more, Shei-Luin turned back to Nama.

“Thank you,” the girl said.

Shei-Luin nodded. “Where’s the man who did this to you?”

“I know not. Once it was certain I was with child, I never saw him again.”

“Lady,” Murohshei interrupted, “I remember some moons back, there was talk among the lower servants that a body had been found in the river. There was no head, and it was the body of a young man. They had heard it from the farmers who brought the vegetables.”

“He was young,” Nama said. “Younger than Xiane. The head will never be found. At least he is dead.” Her fingers dug into her belly as if to rip the infant from her womb. “Must I bear this child?” Her gaze challenged Shei-Luin.

“You cannot,” Shei-Luin said as gently as she could. “You know why.”

Nama turned away a little. “Yes. Even if it was killed as it came from my womb, there’s the chance that one day a pretender would come, claiming to be that child—Xiane’s child—who was saved, and another infant killed in his stead.”

Silence filled the air between them. At last Shei-Luin said, “I’m sorry.” And she was. The girl deserved better, and she could not give it to her. Not when it meant danger to Xahnu and Xu someday.

Nama nodded, then drew herself up to stand as proudly as she could. “I would end my shame,” she announced. Only a glimmering of tears betrayed her fear. They did not fall.

I was wrong. This is not a rabbit. This is an eagle
. “I will help you.”

“How?” whispered Nama.

“Poppy juice. You shall sleep, and … never wake.”

Relief set free the tears that fear could not. “Thank you,” the girl said. “That is a gentle death. And after … ?”

“I will order your ashes set in the altar of the Phoenix. The priests will burn incense to your memory every day, and I will burn it myself each year upon this day for as long as I live. I promise you that.”

“You’re generous, Empress. Again, I thank you.” She smiled a little.

“You’re brave, Nama, and I had thought you a coward. I was wrong.” With that, she surprised Nama—and herself—by bowing to the girl.

Nama returned the bow as best she could. “Please—let it be soon. If I have too much time to think …”

“I understand.” Shei-Luin nodded at Murohshei. He bowed to both of them, and left. When they were alone, Shei-Luin took Nama’s hand and led her back to her bed. “Sit down,” she directed.

The girl obeyed. Shei-Luin placed a chair opposite her and sat. They waited.

Soon Murohshei returned, a flask of the best rice wine in one hand. “It’s already mixed,” he said softly. In the other hand he held a large goblet. It was gold and studded with pearls—one of Xiane’s. Shei-Luin nodded her approval. Murohshei poured out the wine and set the flask aside.

After catching Shei-Luin’s eye, he bore the goblet to the bed. Going down upon both knees, he raised it above his lowered head and presented it to Nama. She took it; he bowed, touching his forehead to the floor as if she were the empress.

Shei-Luin saw a spark of color bloom in the pale cheeks at the honor. Nama licked her lips; she stared at the death she held in her hands for a long moment. “Let my uncle know that I did this willingly to erase the shame he laid upon me.” Then she raised the goblet to her lips and drank.

“Eh!” she said, grimacing. Then she smiled a little, explaining sheepishly, “It makes the wine too thick and sweet,” and gulped the rest down.

After a time, Nama said, “My head is heavy.” Her eyelids drooped.

“Lie down,” Shei-Luin bade her in the same gentle voice she used for Xahnu or Xu.

When she and Murohshei had made the girl comfortable, Nama, her voice barely above a whisper, asked, “Will you stay with me? Please?” and held out her hand.

Shei-Luin took the cold, trembling hand in both of her own. “I will.”

“Thank you.” Nama’s eyes closed.

A little while later, her lips curved in a smile. “No one can ever hurt me again.” The words were slurred and her eyes didn’t open.

“No,” Shei-Luin answered. “Never again.”

The smile remained. Shei-Luin noticed that the girl’s breathing was slow and
shallow. She felt for a pulse; it was weak, but steady. Shei-Luin stroked the small hand.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

The explosion that Maurynna half feared never came.

She came upon Raven some time later, sitting on the wall that encircled the dancing floor, a flock of children squatting on their heels around him as he cleaned Stormwind’s tack.

At hearing that one of the Two Poor Bastards had agreed to bear a truehuman, all he said was, “A pity we lost their saddles. Nothing the tribe has will fit Trissin,” and went back to his task.

Maurynna threw her hands into the air and left him sitting on the wall, the children laughing and handing him things as he pointed to them and tried to name them in stumbling Tah’nehsieh.

But the moment she was out of his sight, she leaned against the nearest wall. “Thank the gods,” she muttered under her breath. One less thing to worry about.

She didn’t know just when it happened. One moment Shei-Luin heard the shallow breathing. The next, it had stopped. Once again she felt for a pulse. Nothing. Nama
nohsa
Jhi, last concubine of Xiane Ma Jhi, late emperor of Jehanglan and Phoenix Lord of the Skies, was gone.

Shei-Luin tucked the limp hand she had held for so long under the blanket covering Nama. “May you find happiness where you’ve gone, poor child,” she said. “I will send your uncle after you to be your slave.” She stood up, stiff after sitting for so long.

To Murohshei, she said, “Send for her women to wash her and prepare her body. When she’s ready, have the eunuchs carry her to the main audience hall so that the chief ministers may witness that Nama is dead and her child with her. Let them set their thumbprints to that.

“And when that is done, bid the priests come, and tell them her ashes are to be interred in the temple. She’s to be given the honors of a
noh.
She’s to have a shroud of the imperial golden silk, just as … just as my sister did.”

Her voice almost broke then. Had things been different, could she have been friends with Nama?

She had no time to dwell on might-have-beens. She was the empress of Jehanglan, and there was much she must do.

And the first was to issue a proclamation for the death of Lord Jhanun as a traitor.

Trissin stood with legs braced as Raven and Shima clambered over him. He snorted from time to time, and his skin twitched as the two young men worked
over him with a blanket and a long length of grass twine as they measured around his broad barrel, but otherwise the stallion was as steady as stone.

“Sorry, boy,” Raven said after one particularly violent twitch. “Didn’t mean to tickle you.”

“Hunhh,” Trissin rumbled deep in his chest. “Hunnhhh.”

BOOK: Dragon and Phoenix

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