Griffin's Shadow (8 page)

When Sen failed to elaborate, the king prompted him. “Yes, what is it?”

“If I was the empress, I’d first send a smaller, more mobile force early on, to the northeast, before the first thaw.”

“That would mean…” Raidan began, but Keizo finished his sentence.

“Sending part of our army back to Kerala, further worsening the odds when the major offensive is launched against Tono. We are already outnumbered at least three to one. If we are forced to defend ourselves on two fronts…”

“I don’t think Constantia wants to spend the resources to keep two separate armies in the field at the same time,” Raidan interjected. “Her ultimate goal is the conquest of Alasiri. In order to accomplish this, she must take Sendai. She can’t come straight at us from Darguinia because she won’t be able to get an army through the Shikhat Fens. The surest way to open a road to the capital is by taking the Tono Valley.

“I agree with you, Brother,” Keizo said, “but I also believe that she’ll send a diversionary force into Kerala, regardless.”

As the lengthy discussion progressed, Raidan continued his observation of Sen’s two sons. Sadaiyo, clearly annoyed at having to stand, struggled to hide his displeasure. His arrogant face and proud bearing spoke of one used to getting his way in all things. His garments, though dusty and rumpled from travel, were rich and fashionably cut.

In contrast, Ashinji wore the smooth, expressionless visage of a professional soldier, trained to stand for long stretches of time. Despite his high station, he had chosen to wear the plain, serviceable clothing of a cavalry officer. Only his eyes betrayed his interest in the tactical discussion; Raidan could sense a keen mind behind the blank face.

The prince felt a momentary pang of pity for Sen Sakehera. The general had always been shrewd, competent, and completely devoid of arrogance. Raidan understood now why Sen loved his younger son with such tender devotion and his Heir, perhaps, not at all.

No good can possibly come of it,
Raidan decided.

“Ai, Goddess, I am tired,” Sen grumbled. “I need a hot soak and a good night’s sleep to clear the cobwebs from my head. I’ll be of far more use to you tomorrow, Majesty.”

“Please forgive me, old friend,” Keizo apologized. “I am keeping you from your much needed rest.” He glanced at Sen’s sons. “I’m sure all of you will be happy to seek your beds.”

“There is one last thing I want to discuss with you before we go,” Sen said. The king nodded. “Last spring, I took a young girl into my employ…a hikui refugee, fled from her home in Amsara, the Soldaran duchy across my southern border.”

Raidan sensed an immediate, profound change in the attitudes of both younger Sakeheras. They stood like two hounds, alert and quivering, one with hostility, the other with apprehension.

“From Amsara, you say?” Keizo leaned forward with interest. “What about this girl?”

“A few weeks ago, she saved my life during a hunting accident. If it hadn’t been for her sharp-shooting, I would have been gutted on the tusks of a wild boar.” Sen chuckled. “I’m still amazed by it. A single arrow, right through the eye! Anyway, as a reward for saving my sorry backside, I promised to present her to you.” Abruptly, Sen’s cheerful expression turned serious. “Majesty, she is seeking information on the identity of her sire.”

“Who is an elf, I presume?” Keizo asked.

“Yes.” Sen gazed intently at the king. “She has a signet ring which she claims the man who fathered her gave to her human mother, so she would know that she came from a noble elven house.” Sen paused.

Raidan stared at his brother. Keizo now sat rigidly upright in his chair, his fingers clenched and bone-white upon the armrests. “Go on,” the king said slowly.

“I have the ring with me. I promised Jelena that I’d show it to you. I believe that you may be able to shed some light on…on her possible identity.”

“Show me the ring now,” the king commanded, holding out his hand.

Without another word, Sen reached into a small pouch at his belt and withdrew an object, which he dropped onto Keizo’s open palm.

The king stared at the ring in his hand for several heartbeats, then closed it up in his fist. He leaned back in his chair and gazed past Sen’s head, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in a memory.

Raidan stared at the king in astonishment. He recognized the ring immediately as his brother’s, made especially for Keizo and presented to him on the day he had achieved his majority. Supposedly, Keizo had lost it many years ago. Raidan wore a similar ring, in keeping with the tradition of all Onjara princes. Both rings were non-magical copies of the White Griffin Ring of State that now encircled the third finger of Keizo’s right hand.

How, by the One Great Goddess, did my brother’s ring fall into the hands of a half-human girl?

“You say the girl’s name is Ja…”

“Jelena, Majesty. A popular Soldaran name for girls, apparently. She soon proved herself a good worker and became a valuable member of my household. We all became quite fond of her, especially my son Ashinji. So fond in fact, that he married her!”

Keizo focused on Ashinji, his expression unreadable. “Your son is married to this girl? You freely gave your permission?” he asked.

“Yes, Majesty, I did. She had no family to speak for her…so there was no one else I needed to consult.” Sen’s eyes narrowed; his voice remained meticulously neutral.

A disturbing suspicion nibbled at the edges of Raidan’s thoughts. He cast his mind backward in time. A little over eighteen years ago, just before the tragic accident that had set him on the throne, Keizo had returned from a journey in the far eastern reaches of Alasiri, several weeks late and with a poorly mending broken leg. It had taken all of the skills of the court physician and the magical abilities of a well-known mage to restore his brother’s leg to full function. Keizo had always insisted an elderly farmer and his wife had rescued him after he had taken a nasty tumble from his horse.

Raidan had always known his brother concealed important details about what had really happened; long ago, the prince had suppressed most of his Talent in favor of scientific training, but he still retained the ability to Truthread. Despite knowing of his brother’s deliberate deception, Raidan had never pressed Keizo on it. He had decided to respect his brother’s privacy.

Now, it seemed that the truth might, at long last, be revealed.

“Sen, my old friend, I want you to bring the girl to me tonight… now, in fact.”

“Now, Majesty? I…I think she’s probably sleeping….”

“That doesn’t matter. Wake her if you have to.” Keizo’s voice held the unmistakable tone of a command.

“Yes…of course.” Sen stood and bowed, his sons following suit. All three men then left the room.

Raidan sat and stared at the side of Keizo’s face for several heartbeats. Finally, he summoned the voice to speak.

“This girl, Brother…who is she? I need to know the truth!”

“So do I, Brother,” the king replied.

Questions And Answers

Keizo tightened his hand around the ring. “I’ve never told anyone the entire story of what happened to me during those weeks I went missing, just before I became king. There was a girl…a human girl. She saved my life. Let me show you her face.”

Raidan opened his mind and allowed Keizo to share the image—a face, unmistakably human, smiling and dark-eyed. Even now, the prince felt the potent emotions the memory awakened in his brother.

“You
loved
this human, Zin?” Raidan asked.

“Yes. I would have died, if not for her.”

“A
human
girl…”

“Is it so hard to believe?” Keizo snapped. “We elves and humans are not that different, not really! Yes, I loved her and she loved me, but in the end, I had to leave her. I gave her my prince’s ring as a token of my love. I never considered the possibility…” The king paused, then whispered, “Brother…I think Sakehera’s hikui stray might be mine.”

With those words, the very foundations upon which Raidan had built and ordered his life crumbled and blew away like dust upon the wind. A cloud of anger threatened to overwhelm his mind, but he quickly suppressed it.

I can’t let Keizo know how his confession has affected me. There’s too much at stake!

Raidan rose to his feet. “If this hikui girl is yours, Brother, you must handle the matter with the utmost care. The last thing Alasiri needs right now is a scandal.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Keizo glared at Raidan with challenging eyes. “But if she is my child, I’ll not turn my back on her.”

“I think it’s time for me to leave you alone. When you’ve finished interviewing the girl, send for me.” Raidan turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

Keizo has fathered a child!

The words buzzed through Raidan’s brain like a swarm of angry hornets as he strode down the deserted, night-silent corridors of the castle. The implications were enormous and far-reaching.

What if my brother decides to acknowledge this girl? Will he attempt to set her above me and my sons?

That must never be allowed.

I’ll kill her myself if it comes down to that. I’ll not let some bastard hikui rob me and mine of what is rightfully ours!

Keizo the Younger had ascended the throne of Alasiri only after a freak accident had claimed the life of King Okame—Raidan and Keizo’s eldest brother—and his entire family. Keizo had yet to marry; in fact, he had shown total disinterest in the idea, and his longtime companion, Lady Sonoe, had so far produced no children.

As long as his brother remained unmarried and childless, Raidan and his sons were Keizo’s official Heirs.

It won’t matter if this girl is Keizo’s offspring. She’s a half-blood, and illegitimate. By law, she can’t be the Heir, unless…

Keizo could officially recognize and legitimize her, but in order to name her as Heir, he would have to change the law of the land. The King’s Council would surely fight such an action, and in the end, Raidan doubted the elven people would accept a hikui as their future sovereign.

Let Keizo recognize this girl as his daughter, let him bestow upon her every rank and privilege of an Onjara princess. She can be no threat to me, unless she foolishly dares to set herself up as one. And if she does, she can be eliminated.

Raidan took a deep breath to steady himself.

I must remain calm. I’ve nothing to worry about.

His heart ceased its headlong gallop and his steps slowed as he approached the double doors that led to his family’s private quarters. As he entered, the sound of his wife’s voice, raised in anger, drifted from an inner chamber. He followed the trail of heated words into his wife’s day room.

Princess Taya Onjara stood with her back to the door, hands clenched into fists by her side. Her head whipped around, green eyes flashing, as Raidan entered the room. “By the Goddess, your son has really done it this time!” she exclaimed.

Raidan’s heart skipped a beat. Even after forty years of marriage, he still thought Taya the most beautiful of all women.

The object of his wife’s fury—their eldest child, Raidu—stood before her, radiating defiance. She turned away from Raidan to face their son. “Go ahead… Tell your father, if you dare!” The young man’s chin lifted in obstinate refusal.

Raidu had always been rebellious by nature—even more so, now that he had officially reached adulthood. Raidan knew he ought to deal with his son’s perceived misdeed immediately, but he could not afford any distractions now.

“Not now, Wife,” Raidan responded.

Taya’s eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to object but Raidan cut her off. “Whatever Raidu has done this time, we will deal with it later. I have serious news.” He turned toward Raidu. “It’s late, Son,” he said quietly. “Go to bed.” Raidu regarded his father speculatively for a few moments.

There’s so much of his mother in him,
the prince thought.
Same green eyes and auburn hair, same nose and chin.

Raidu departed with a final backward glance, leaving Raidan alone with Taya. He reached out and grabbed her hands, and before she could speak, he opened his mind to her.

Taya entered easily through the mental link they had forged years ago, a link that had grown stronger and more secure with the intimacy of their long marriage. She soon knew everything he did about the girl claiming to be Keizo’s daughter.

Taya withdrew, then lifted her right index finger and traced a glowing symbol in the air. As it flashed, then dissolved, Raidan felt the tingling caress of magical energy against the bare skin of his face and hands.

The two of them stood in silence for several heartbeats, then Taya said, “The room wards are up. We can speak freely.” Raidan nodded in understanding. “This girl is undoubtedly an Onjara, and dangerous, Husband, but not in the way you think,” Taya continued.

“What do you mean?” Raidan replied. “How do you know for sure?”

Taya drifted over to the room’s single, large window, open to the cool evening breezes. “What I am going to tell you now must not leave this room, Husband. Only two others know the entire truth, and it is vital that it remain so, for now.”