The Grace of Kings (55 page)

Kuni Garu's voice cracked, and he made an effort to swallow and to wipe his eyes discreetly.

Torulu Pering rolled his eyes. This Kuni Garu was a consummate actor and liar. To claim that he did what he did in Pan for the benefit of Mata Zyndu was preposterous. Kuni was buying up the hearts of the people, laying the groundwork for comparison with Mata Zyndu's high-handed and brutal occupation later. Garu was banking on the fact that Zyndu wasn't as good as he at these political games.

Pering knew that Kuni Garu had a reputation as a talker. He was almost like a paid litigator in his ability to turn black to white, to make specious arguments about wrong and right. Mata Zyndu would be no match for Kuni Garu's verbal tricks. Pering berated himself for not foreseeing how this public spectacle could be turned to Kuni's advantage.

Kuni continued. “The troops stationed at Goa in Thoco Pass had orders to prevent scattered Imperial detachments from coming back to Pan. In their zeal to defend the fruits of the rebellion—fruits that we all know you deserve more than anyone else—they mis­understood and failed to welcome you properly. For this error I have already punished those responsible.”

Marshal Zyndu was unconvinced. “But your man, Ro Minosé, came to me and said that you were preparing to declare yourself king, perhaps even emperor. Your men were spreading malicious rumors, poisoning the hearts of the people against me.”

Torulu Pering wished he had some way of telling Mata Zyndu to be quiet. To bring up the name of Ro Minosé was like painting a target on Ro's back, inviting retaliation from those loyal to Kuni. And after that, who in the future would want to defect from Kuni's camp and join Mata, knowing that Mata didn't even care enough about them to protect their names?

“If Ro Minosé would betray me, why would he not betray you?” Kuni spread his hands and pleaded. “One should never give heed to the words of traitors, for they would lie to gain themselves any advantage.”

Torulu scoffed at this, but Mata Zyndu seemed to reconsider.

“You swear all that you've said is true?”

“I swear it on all the books of Kon Fiji.”

“Then I apologize, Lord Garu, for doubting your heart. Now will you drink with me?”

A servant handed a goblet filled to the brim to Mata, and Mata lifted it in Kuni's direction.

Kuni gulped the drink down.
He still won't call me brother
. Though the wine was of the highest quality, he felt his throat burn as he swallowed. He understood that he would never again be able to truly bare his heart to Mata.
It is how actions are seen that matters, not what was intended.

The other guests were relieved that tension seemed to be dissip­ating and eagerly joined in. Soon wine flowed freely, and merriment again filled the tent.

Kuni sat down and wiped his brow. “That was close,” he said to Luan Zya.

Luan nodded. He wasn't sure that the danger was past yet. He kept his eye on Torulu Pering. Among Mata Zyndu's retinue, Pering seemed the only one who had his eyes on the bigger picture.

Pering kept on trying to catch Mata Zyndu's eye. When Mata finally looked at him, Pering grabbed the centerpiece from his table, a great three-legged jade ritual vessel called a
kunikin
in Classical Ano, and made as if to smash the vessel against the ground.

Mata shook his head and looked away. Pering waited until Mata was looking his way again, and again raised the
kunikin
over his head and pretended to smash it. Mata again looked away. This went on a few more times, and Mata Zyndu always shook his head.

Pering sighed. He could not make himself any clearer. Having seen the man in action, he could tell that Kuni Garu was the most dangerous challenger to Mata's authority. He had to be killed right now, or else he would become an unmanageable threat. Pering would have preferred it if Zyndu could make Garu appear to be a traitor before the eyes of the others, but since Garu's slippery tongue had saved him from that fate, Pering was willing for Zyndu to resort to outright murder.

Pering had examined carefully the tactics that Kuni Garu employed in Pan, and there was no question that the man was ambitious and would not be satisfied until Mata Zyndu was ruined. But since Mata was unable to put aside his compassion, Pering had to make the hard decision for him.

Pering got up and made his way gradually to Ro Minosé, toasting the other guests along the way. He pulled Ro aside and whispered to him, “Marshal Zyndu has a special mission for you. Because you betrayed him, Kuni Garu now hates you more than any man alive. Marshal Zyndu desires you to prove the truth of your accusations with a demonstration of loyalty.”

Ro, who had been pondering his fate morosely, shuddered at this.

“Marshal Zyndu wants Kuni Garu to die?”

Pering nodded. “Kuni Garu has deceived the guests here with his clever words, so openly killing him is not an option. Can you make it look like an accident?”

Ro hesitated. He did not like the position he was in. Marshal Zyndu had exposed him to reprisal from Kuni Garu's men. But Kuni's words seemed to make the marshal distrust Ro as well. He was caught between two sides and had to do something to secure his own future.

“If I do this, won't the marshal preserve his own honor by leaving me to shoulder all the blame? I need some reassurance.”

“Don't you dare to bargain!” Pering whispered harshly. “A servant cannot have two masters. You must make a choice and stick to it. You have to trust the marshal to take care of you, or you'll be on your own to face Garu's wrath.”

Ro gritted his teeth and nodded glumly.

As Pering made his way back to his seat, Ro got up and pretended to stumble. “Honored Lords, it's boring to eat and drink without something more to delight us. The men of Cocru have often enjoyed the art of sword dancing at a banquet. If you would excuse my lack of refinement, I'd like to entertain all of you with a sword dance today.”

The assembled guests clapped and whistled, and Pering called for music. As the coconut lute and whale-skin drums created a synco­pated and rousing beat, Ro unsheathed his sword and began to dance. He leapt, parried, swung his blade overhead in bright circles of flashing light like blossoming chrysanthemums, and slowly made his way toward Kuni Garu's table.

The guests cheered while Pering whispered in Mata Zyndu's ear. Mata's face was filled with uncertainty, but he said nothing as the chill wind from Ro's sword moved closer and closer to Kuni.

Ratho watched Ro's dance and furrowed his brows.

He was familiar with sword dancing, but Ro was dancing so close to Lord Garu that the blade of the sword often passed within inches of the man. Lord Garu's smile was forced, and he was already up, out of his seat, dodging left and right and awkwardly jumping out of the way of Ro's swings.

Something was not right about this. Ratho had served under Lord Garu at Zudi and liked the man. Daf and he often spoke about how Lord Garu seemed someone who genuinely understood what the common soldier wanted, and he was glad that Lord Garu's speech had convinced Marshal Zyndu. He never believed that Lord Garu would betray the marshal.

But now Ro Minosé, a known traitor, seemed to be trying to kill Lord Garu. If he succeeded, some foolish people might even whisper that Marshal Zyndu authorized it out of petty jealousy for his good friend's bravery—imagine, capturing Pan with only five hundred men!

Ratho had to protect Mata Zyndu's reputation.

He got up and unsheathed his own sword. “I'm also from Cocru,” he said. “One man dancing is not fun at all. Why don't I help by joining in?”

He swung and twirled his blade to the music, and within seconds he moved next to Ro. Their swords clashed, swung apart, and clashed again, and Ratho did his best to keep Ro's sword from coming near Lord Garu.

But Ratho was only a common soldier, and Ro was a far better swordsman.

Luan Zya got up and excused himself. He quickly left the big tent and found Mün Çakri outside.

“You've got to do something. Lord Garu is going to die in an ‘accident' unless we intervene.”

Mün nodded, wiped the grease from his mouth with his sleeve, and picked up his shield with one hand and his short sword with the other. Mün's shield was unique, designed by himself. The outside of the shield was studded with a set of butcher's meat hooks, the better to catch his opponents' swords and twist them out of their hands.

With Luan Zya running behind to catch up, Mün rushed to the great tent. The guards at the door tried to stop him, but Mün stared at them, his eyes full of fury. The guards hesitated for a moment, and Mün was past them.

Mün entered the tent and stood right next to Kuni Garu's table. Planting his feet in a wide-open stance, he roared at the top of his lungs—the way he used to make himself heard above the squealing of pigs—“Stop!”

The assembled guests thought they had gone deaf temporarily. Both Ro and Ratho stumbled and leapt away from each other. The music stopped. The tent was completely silent.

“Who goes there?” Mata Zyndu, the first to recover, asked.

“Mün Çakri, a lowly follower of Lord Garu.”

Mata recalled their days at Zudi. “I remember you. You're a brave man and a good fighter.” He turned to an attendant. “Come, bring this man some meat and drink.”

Mün did not sit but took the platter of food from the servant and stood where he was. He grabbed the steak from the plate and hooked it onto the outside of his shield, and began to carve pieces from it with his sword. He ate heartily and washed it down with gulps of wine from another guest's goblet. The assembled guests were amazed by the vitality of the man. He was like a barbarian from another age, and he made all of them feel effete, weak, and small.

“Marshal Zyndu, I'm surprised that you still remember me. I thought you forgot all about your friends from Zudi.”

Mata Zyndu flushed and said nothing.

“Lord Garu may have come into Pan before you, but we were all on the same side, fighting against the empire. He's done everything he can to honor you and to explain his actions, and yet you keep on pressing him, even permitting others to do him harm. If I didn't know better, I might have thought you were jealous of Lord Garu's favor among the people.”

Mata Zyndu forced himself to laugh. “You are a good man, and I always appreciate a loyal retainer who speaks from the heart in defense of his lord. Lord Garu and I have come to an understanding, and you need not be concerned.”

He gestured for both Ro and Ratho to sit, and the banquet resumed. The air of merriment felt very forced, however.