Sui Writes

Tag: Writing

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 7-1

    Arc 2: The Case of the Belladonna Poisoned Palace Maid

    Ch. 7-1

    Raithion watched the Sura ship disappear on the horizon, and a soft sigh escaped. He wished for the millionth time that he and Azula had a better ending. There was a harrowing rawness to their separation that left him filled with anger. He wanted to return to the capital city and defy his father and the Basileus. He would clear the Sura Clan and hope to see Azula’s cheerful smile again.

    But, he could not do that, not with his youngest sister marrying Basileus Dio.

    Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

    “Your Highness.”

    The title grated at his last nerve. It was new and filled with the consequences of betraying Azula. He hated it.

    “Report,” Raithion growled at his lieutenant.

    “Your orders have been carried out,” the lieutenant said. “The magistrate’s compound is under control, and the policing force has arrived from the Draeya Estate. Everyone knows how to assist the Sura Clan members. They will use the port city’s ships to make drop-offs.”

    “Good work,” Raithion said, giving the horizon one last glance before he turned away and walked to a waiting black horse.

    “Where to, Your Highness?”

    Raithion fought a grimace at the title as he mounted his horse.

    “Draeya Estate first,” Raithion said. “Then we shall head to the capital city, Genad, to take up the commandery.”

    “I’ll relay your orders,” the lieutenant said as he hurried away to mobilize the troop following Raithion.

    *****

    Soriel Maenaer watched one of the palace attendants arrange her clothes on a rack mounted in what they called her dressing room. The room was large enough to fit the chambers she used at the Maenaer Estate in Draeya County.

    The Basileus’s palace left her breathless with the sheer size of everything. Basileus Dio’s ancestors had spared no expense as they built up the palace to mark their reign and the magnitude of their power.

    She still could not believe she would marry into the Adertha family and become a Basilinna. Not because she feared managing the palace. No. Her disbelief was tied to her soon-to-be-husband. She could not believe he had looked at her and wanted to make her his wife.

    With a soft sigh, Soriel arranged the skirts of her deep blue dress around her and focused on the three palace attendants working in her so-called dressing room. The three women unpacking her chests were from her family’s manor.

    Her father had insisted she bring her own people into the palace. After all, the palace had a more powerful mistress hidden in the deepest halls. She needed all the help to withstand a battle with her husband’s mother, the Dowager Basilinna.

    Soriel shuddered at the thought of the dowager and frowned when one of the ladies let out a startled scream. She was cleaning out a closet in the corner of the dressing room and had jumped back with fright. Soriel’s frown deepened when the lady pressed a hand over her mouth and pointed at the open closet.

    Thinking it was a pest terrorizing her people in this old place, Soriel got up to see what would make her attendants so weak-willed. She stopped short when she moved closer and could see into the open closet. She could not help the gasp that escaped her.

    Folded into the bottom of the closet was a young woman dressed in the familiar pale-yellow dresses worn by the palace attendants working beyond her suite. She was not alive. Her skin was too pale and lacking the healthy pink glow of vitality.

    Soriel took in a deep breath, clenched her fists, and glanced at her personal attendant.

    “Vaeri, find my father. Do not let anyone else into my rooms before he shows up,” Soriel said. “Trust no one. Do you understand?”

    “Yes, My Lady,” Vaeri said and hurried out of the dressing room to find Thanir Maenaer.

    Soriel stared at the dead girl in her closet.

    Only one person could do this to her in this vast palace.

    Great move, Dowager Basilinna, Soriel scoffed. Let’s wait for my turn.

    *****

    Raithion returned to Draeya County in a complicated mood, his affection for the Maenaer Estate both a comfort and a reminder of his responsibilities. The family manor, Maenaer, had been built up over generations—a fortress and a sanctuary embodying the Maenaer lineage and its enduring military legacy. Tall, ancient walls, fortified and vigilant, encircled the estate, a testament to the family’s unyielding strength. A dedicated troop maintained the fortifications year-round, preserving the estate’s resilience across countless generations.

    The guards at the gates greeted him with broad smiles and enthusiastic waves. Raithion returned the greetings with a wave of his right hand, riding fast along the road heading to the main house.

    The sight of expanded fields along the way brought Raithion quiet satisfaction.

    The most considerable expense for any army was food, so he was always glad for the thriving fields. Acres of land stretched out in orderly rows, bearing rice and seasonal vegetables under the care of soldiers’ families who had made the estate their home. The estate always had rice and various vegetables, depending on the season. What they could not produce, they traded with counties nearby.

    Raithion had yet to face disappointment with the management of food supplies thanks to the efficiency of the estate’s staff. They encouraged the soldiers’ families living within the estate to farm ducks for the eggs and the meat. Through trade and production, the estate maintained a steady, well-managed supply. It was an invaluable duty that every Maenaer cultivated carefully.

    As Raithion rode up to the main entrance of his family’s manor, he took in the sight that never failed to lighten his heart.

    Deep red bougainvillea cascaded over the four towering pillars at the entrance of the three-story estate, the blooms vivid against the smooth stone. Raithion’s ancestors added these touches over centuries, the graceful arches and commanding columns shaping Maenaer’s timeless elegance. Expansive terraces and balcony gardens adorned the upper floors, transforming the manor into a sanctuary of beauty and strength—a legacy worth protecting.

    Dismounting his horse, he lingered a moment, gaze fixed on the crimson flowers. For a fleeting second, he wondered what Azula would think of this home, layered with history and tradition.

    Raithion crossed the threshold with steady steps and entered the atrium, one of his favorite places in the manor.

    A high, glass-covered ceiling arched above, pouring warm afternoon sunlight over every corner and adding to the airy, open feel of the space. The glass itself, a more recent addition to the ancient home, provided an unobstructed view of the sky—a luxury within a stronghold built for defense.

    Marble floors, crafted by Storait artisans, glowed under the sunlight, each veined stone shining as a mark of refinement amid the manor’s unyielding structure. Raithion found comfort in the openness, a peace he rarely afforded himself, and the vantage this room provided.

    Through the atrium’s high, expansive windows, he could see the land dotted with sentries and trees swaying in the breeze across the estate, over its fields and fortified walls. The view was both beautiful and strategic. From this space, he could watch for signs of approaching visitors or potential threats.

    Long, white curtains hung along parts of the great hall beyond, adding privacy without diminishing the room’s airy openness. His mother had decorated parts of the atrium with her careful touch, tucking leafy plants in wide clay pots into corners and scattering plush cushions across the long couches. It was a space of rare warmth and subtle splendor that welcomed all who entered.

    His second favorite place in the estate was the residence his father helped him build in preparation for his having a family in the future. Through the years, he had filled the residence with comfort, but now…the thought of Gesi Ajai’s daughter calling it her home made him sick.

    “Lord Raith.”

    Raithion dragged his thoughts away from Gesi Ajai and turned to see the butler who managed his residence approaching him with fast steps.

    Raithion removed his dark coat and nodded at the older man, who was five years older than him.

    “Oh, I think I should change my address to Your Highness.”

    “Daron, I beg you, please keep calling me Raith. Don’t bring the capital’s complications to this place,” Raithion said, shaking his head.

    Daron chuckled and took the black coat from Raithion.

    “As you wish, Lord Raith.”

    Raithion was glad for Daron’s uncomplicated acceptance. He walked along a wide corridor from the atrium to the north of the manor. His residence was separated from the main house with an enclosed walkway. His father had thought it would be an excellent idea for him to have a separate household from the main house.

    ‘Managing your own affairs will give you character,’ Thanir had said with a pleased smile as he handed Raithion the key to the separate residence.

    Daron opened the heavy double doors with a flourish when they reached them.

    The residence was decorated with deep wood colors. The floors were polished wood tiles, and the metalwork on the furniture was intricate. The ceramics on the shelves were beautiful and exciting. They were gifts from his sisters, Noriel and Soriel. His mother had hung long curtains in the living area to divide the spaces. Raithion liked to sit by the tall windows in the living room when he could find time.

    Raithion removed his dark tunic and draped it over an armchair as he walked through the living area, down a long corridor to the bathing hall at the back of the residence.

    The sunken bath that took up a room was filled with warm water. Raithion assumed Daron had heated it up when the first scouts reached the manor.

    He stripped fast and stepped into the pool, eager to cleanse the worst of the dust. He swam to the center of the deep pool and sank deep until his hair was soaked. He stayed underwater for three minutes before he came up with a loud sigh, sweeping his fingers through his dark hair to push it out of his face. Satisfied with the momentary relief, Raithion moved to the pool’s edge and sat on the concealed bench in the water.

    Daron brought him a box filled with soap, a comb, and a loofah to scrub his skin.

    “Who is home?” Raithion asked as he settled in for a bath.

    “There is only you at home. Your parents pulled the manor’s core staff to Genad City. Noriel and her husband stopped by days ago to tell us about Soriel’s marriage to Basileus Dio and your impending nuptials. Noriel ordered to close the manor and move everyone to the capital.”

    “Hm,” Raithion sighed at the mention of his upcoming marriage. “My father claims to have found a mistress for this residence.”

    “Will she agree to move away from the capital?” Daron asked as he helped Raithion wash his back.

    “I don’t want her to take ownership of this residence,” Raithion said, shaking his head. “This place, I will close it up first before I allow Gesi Ajai’s daughter to enter it.”

    “But—”

    “This marriage is temporary,” Raithion insisted when Daron started to speak up. “I will not have her here.”

    “If not her, then who?” Daro asked, taking the comb and tackling Raithion’s long, dark hair. Raithion sat back and closed his eyes, allowing Daron to help him with the tangles in his hair. It had been a long journey in the woods to protect Azula’s clan. He had not stopped to clean up.

    His memory filled with Azula. He doubted he would ever forget the sight of Azula laughing as he placed all his chess pieces in the wrong spaces.

    Raithion smiled at the memory and again wondered what Azula would think of his personal residence. He would love to watch Azula placing all the chess pieces on his stone table by the bedroom terrace in the wrong places.

    “Maybe there will be someone,” Raithion said, his tone filled with longing. “I’ll leave it to the fates.”

    “Then, where will you live with your new bride?” Daron asked, confusion evident in his voice.

    “As my father says, I’ve come to close this place for a time. Our family will live in the capital until Soriel finds stability. It may take a few years. Pack up my clothes,” Raithion said as Daron combed his hair. “Leave old man Cassius here with ten attendants to look after the manor and ensure the bougainvillea grows. Otherwise, mother will be unhappy.”

    “Are we really going to the capital, too?” Daron asked.

    “You, Aryn, and her sister, Sira, plus your son, Sharian, are the only people I can trust to run my house once my so-called bride moves in,” Raithion said with a shudder. “My new father-in-law is a snake in disguise, seeking power while offering gifts. Daron, my new household will be like living in a warzone. We cannot leave anything to chance. Even the food we eat needs attention. It will be a hardship.”

    “I understand,” Daron said, putting away the comb when he finished working on Raithion’s hair. He patted Raithion’s left shoulder, and Raithion moved away from the bench. He swam deeper into the water and rinsed his hair in the deep waters.

    Raithion swam to the steps and exited the sunken bath, feeling refreshed.

    Daron handed him a large bath towel, which he tied around his waist.

    “I’ll sleep for four hours,” Raithion said, leaving the bathing hall and walking barefoot to his bedchamber. “Get everyone ready. We’ll travel to the capital through the night. I need to take over the Imperial Commandery tomorrow.”

    “I’ll get it done, Lord Raith. Rest easy,” Daro said and left, closing the door quietly as Raithion sat on the edge of his bed.

    Raithion started to pull back the sheets but paused when he saw the blades Azula gifted him on the side table. Sharian must have brought them in while he was bathing. He reached for the scabbard and unsheathed the blades.

    Raithion traced the carvings on the handles, his memory filling with the sight of Azula carrying his sister on board their ship. The memory of the scream Azula let out when his sister was shot with the arrow had Raithion closing his eyes for a moment. He shook his head and wished again that things were different between them.

    Suddenly, Azula’s teasing voice filled his head.

    “I heard the Draeya General was having a meal on the balcony. I heard Draeya General has a horn growing on his forehead, making him fierce. I came out to have a good look.”

    Raithion smiled and shook his head.

    “You took a good look at the ship and turned away,” Raithion murmured as he sheathed his blades and returned them to the bedside table. “You must be very angry with me. I hope your anger cools before we meet again, Azula Doriel, Sura Prince.”

    Raithion sighed and stretched out on his bed. He would indulge in the peace and quiet for a few hours before returning to the capital’s chaos.

    *****

    The Basileus’s engagement sent shockwaves through the capital. Most people who attended Noriel Maenaer’s wedding were unsurprised that the Basileus had chosen the Maenaer family. In fact, their questions as to why the Maenaer family was suddenly so favored seemed answered by the engagement.

    Dio had a rare moment of excitement as he watched his court scramble to find favor with his new father-in-law. Even the Prime Minister had extended an invitation.

    The Imperial Diet decided to title Soriel a princess inside the palace as she prepared for the wedding. Her family was helping move Soriel into the Basilinna’s residence, Rose Hall. The progress was impressive. The Maenaer family had enough resources to renovate Rose Hall and add in attendants loyal to Soriel.

    “Soriel will not be lonely at Rose Hall,” Dio noted. “I’m more worried that my chambers will become lonelier as her people take on the palace’s management.”

    “She’s a kind girl. If you find love with her, you won’t have to worry. I have news.”

    “What news?” Dio asked.

    “A palace maid was found murdered in Princess Soriel’s chambers,” Theod said, watching Dio pace the length of his desk. “Her Highness is smart. She utilized her father’s soldiers to report the matter, claiming a cleaning maid found the dead attendant. Still, the inner palace is in turmoil. Your mother insists the dead palace maid is a close confidant and wants answers.”

    Dio scoffed at his mother’s machinations.

    Olneth Adertha could scheme the devil’s fire out of his pit.

    Shaking his head, Dio clasped his hands behind his back, deep in thought.

    Soriel was indeed quite clever. Pulling Thanir Maenaer into the case allowed Raithion to investigate the matter, but the Commandery Prince was not back yet.

    “Any news on Raithion?” Dio asked.

    “He is halfway to the capital,” Theod said. “Our spy reports he stopped at his family home in Draeya County. He stayed a few hours, then closed the place and started a convoy to the capital.”

    “That’s good news for the future of my armies, bad news for the current case,” Dio said. “Olneth will ask the imperial diet for an investigation. She wants to cast doubt on Soriel as a candidate for Basilinna. Soriel has to come out of this clean to retain her status as the Basilinna.”

    “What do we do?” Theod asked, his frown deepening.

    Dio closed his eyes and stopped pacing. He was so close to placing his pieces in the right spots. He could not lose the game now.

    Soriel needed to win so that he could gain the support of both Thanir and Raithion Maenaer. If something happened to Soriel, Raithion would not forgive Dio. Raithion might even become an enemy.

    Gesi Ajai was already on his way to becoming the Minister of Finance. The moment Gesi Ajai gained a foothold in parliament, who knew what plan he would start next.

    Dio could not afford a rebellious Raithion Maenaer.

    “The imperial diet has seven members,” Theod said. “Four on your side, while three follow the Dowager Basilinna’s instructions. Perhaps Princess Soriel will gain their support—”

    “No,” Dio shook his head. “She cannot face an inquiry from the Imperial Diet over the death of a palace attendant. It will cast doubt on her with the parliament. They will ask how a palace attendant died just as Soriel entered it. We need to settle this before my mother seeks an inquiry.”

    “Then—”

    “We need to find my aunt, Princess Sanan,” Dio said, snapping his fingers. He started for the door and turned to look at Theod when his guard remained frozen. “Come on, Theod. There is no time to lose.”

    ****

    Soriel wished her brother was around to give her strength, but Raithion had disappeared two days ago. No one in the family could find him. Not even her father, who tracked Raithion like his shadow.

    “Lord Haedor, are you sure he is not sleeping off a drunken night?” Soriel asked her brother’s most trusted legion officers. “You can tell me. I won’t be angry.”

    “I apologize, Your Highness,” Haedor said, his hands clasped behind his back, standing tall as he held her gaze. “His Highness is completing an assignment.”

    “How can the Draeya Commandery Prince be missing for two days without news of his whereabouts?” Soriel demanded, shaking her head. “Lord Haedor, I really need his help—”

    “Do you need his help to forge evidence after murdering a palace maid?” Dowager Basilinna’s voice filled the room, and Soriel gasped as she stood from her chair.

    The door to her living room opened, and the Dowager Basilinna walked in, followed by three of her attendants and an unfamiliar older woman who looked of rank.

    Soriel swallowed down her fear and curtsied gracefully as her training lessons demanded.

    “Welcome, Your Majesty,” she said in greeting. “Soriel wishes you good health.”

    Olneth ignored her greeting and moved to sit on the chair Soriel had vacated, her attendants moving to stand behind the chair.

    Soriel took three steps away from the armchair. The lady of rank chose to sit on the long couch next to Olneth’s armchair. Soriel stood in the middle of her sitting room, facing two censuring gazes.

    “Greet your elders,” Olneth said, her forbidding tone grudging as she waved to the woman on the long couch. “Princess Sanan is Basileus Dio’s paternal aunt. She lives with the grand dowager Basilinna, Basileus Dio’s grandmother.”

    Soriel took in a deep breath to calm her rioting nerves. She turned to face the new face and executed an elegant curtsey.

    “Soriel greets Princess Aunt. I apologize for not greeting you sooner.”

    “You wouldn’t have known where to find me,” Princess Sanan said, her tone filled with amusement. “Two days in the palace, you’ve already had such a dangerous accident. Child, you need to grow stronger.”

    Soriel lowered her head and nodded, acknowledging the scolding.

    Princess Sanan’s words were too true.

    “Speak, why are you harassing the legion officer?” Olneth asked as she turned her attention to Haedor.

    “He is a legion officer working under my father,” Soriel said. “I asked him to find my brother because I miss him. I wanted to request that my brother toast my wedding.”

    “Hm,” Olneth frowned. “There are rumors that Draeya Commandery Prince has disappeared from the capital. Are you sure he is not out there causing trouble?”

    “He is now responsible for growing the Basileus’s armies,” Princess Sanan said, her tone filled with authority. “Why would a new princess know what Draeya Commandery Prince is doing for the Basileus?”

    Olneth frowned, meeting Sanan’s gaze for a moment before she shrugged.

    “Your big brother is no longer a small official you can demand to see as you wish,” Olneth told Soriel. “He has no time to cater to your whims. He certainly won’t be around to help you resolve this case in your favor.”

    “What case?” Princess Sanan asked. “A Palace Maid was found dead in the new Princess’s chambers. How does such a case involve Princess Soriel other than to frighten her? She must be scared by the skeletons in the closets as she tries to move in.”

    “Your Imperial Highness,” Olneth started to protest.

    “Dowager Basilinna must be concerned about the skeletons in Rose Hall’s closets, too,” Princess Sanan continued. “My mother worries she left ghosts lurking in this residence when she left it to you. She has decided to manage the investigation.”

    “What?” Olneth asked, her eyes widening in shock. “Grand Dowager—”

    “My mother has every reason to involve herself in her grandson’s affairs,” Princess Sanan said. “Princess Soriel is going to be the next Basilinna. We invited her into the palace to learn etiquette and prepare for the wedding. She encountered a frightening scene of a corpse in her closet. Why wouldn’t the Grand Dowager Basilinna involve herself? At the very least, we should clean the closets to ensure this doesn’t happen again. What part do you protest, Dowager Basilinna?”

    Soriel bit her bottom lip as she realized someone had sent her a helper in the form of a Princess Aunt. She kept her gaze down, staring at the red carpet covering the tiled floor.

    “No part,” Olneth said after a moment of silence. “Princess Sanan is right. The closets should be scrubbed clean. No one wants the new Basilinna to think we are savages in the palace.”

    “I’m glad we all agree,” Princess Sanan said, her cheerful tone making Soriel glance up. She caught a brilliant smile on the older woman’s face. “Lord Haedor, am I to understand that you work for the Draeya Commandery Prince?”

    “Your Imperial Highness, my name is Haedor Ayas, a newly promoted general working under Draeya Commandery Prince.”

    “Lord General Haedor,” Princess Sanan said with a nod. “A young woman has lost her life within our palace. The Draeya Commandery Prince’s station is tasked with the safety of our palace. Before we settle matters of clean closets, can I ask you to relay my orders to the Commandery Prince?”

    “Yes, Your Imperial Highness,” Haedor said.

    “Princess Soriel, find me a paper and pen,” Princess Sanan said, reaching into the pockets of her cream dress and pulling out a large gold ring with the Adertha crest, a majestic gold griffin.

    Soriel hurried to her writing desk in the corner and returned with a lap desk, paper, and an ordinary ink pen she used for her daily writing. Thankfully, she had written notes to her big sister Noriel this morning, so the pen was filled with ink.

    Princess Sanan wrote fast and used the red inkpad on the corner of the writing desk to ink the crest on her ring before pressing it to the finished letter.

    “This is an order from the Grand Dowager Basilinna’s office,” Princess Sanan said. “My mother tasks the Commandery Prince to investigate the death of the girl in the closet. He must find out the truth about the palace attendant’s death and how she came to be found in Princess Soriel’s chambers. Is that clear, Lord General Haedor?”

    Haedor moved closer and took the order with both hands, nodding his head with utmost respect before he stepped back.

    “You may go,” Princess Sanan said to him.

    Haedor met Soriel’s gaze for a minute before he left her living room.

    Soriel took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

    “Dowager Basilinna, the order I gave to Lord General, asks the Commandery Prince to report his findings to parliament and Basileus Dio. I hope this meets your requirements for answers?”

    Olneth stared at Princess Sanan for a full minute before she stood in a graceful sweep. The soft fabric of her rich peach dress whispered with the movement. Her hair, long gone gray, was pinned back from her face with expensive jewels. She had a beautiful face, but the beauty looked wicked when Olneth gave Soriel a hateful look before she turned to Princess Sanan.

    “I have no place to protest when Princess Sanan orders an inquiry and involves the parliament,” Olneth said. “I hope to meet the culprit soon.”

    Olneth walked out of Soriel’s living room, followed by her three attendants. Their pace was so fast that it felt like they were going on a running marathon. The attendants slammed the living room door closed.

    Soriel breathed out in relief and stiffened when she heard a soft chuckle. She turned to find Princess Sanan sitting on her long couch, biting her bottom lip.

    “You need to build up your expressions,” Princess Sanan said, her tone amused. “Otherwise, Olneth will eat you alive.”

    “She’s frightening,” Soriel said with a sigh.

    “She can be,” Sanan said, smiling. “Now, come over here and sit with me. I need to hear everything about your encounter with the unalived palace maid in your closet.”

    Soriel stared at Basileus Dio’s aunt for a minute, then because she seemed pretty friendly, she hurried to sit next to her, hoping to make a friend in this place.

    *****

    Raithion returned to the capital with a convoy of stuff. He led them to the Maenaer mansion with confidence. The family had long moved out of the private residence they rented before. Everyone in the capital now knew who they were and was interested in their comings and goings. He found a crowd of carriages waiting outside the gates of the manor.

    “Lord Raith,” Darion said, exiting his carriage to take charge of the chaos at the entrance. “The carriages belong to ministers in court. They want to meet your father.”

    “Where is my father?” Raithion asked, still on his horse, outside the gates.

    “He is in the palace,” Darion said.

    “Direct one of the lieutenants to make a list of the visitors,” Raithion said. “Tell them my father will reach out to them when he has time.”

    Darion nodded to Sharian, who hurried away to complete the task.

    “Who else?” Raithion asked.

    “There is a carriage from Gesi Ajai’s residence,” Darion said. “And another from the palace.”

    “Hm,” Raithion frowned and dismounted his horse. He held on to the reins, still debating whether to head straight to the army commandery before settling in at home. “Where are these two carriages?”

    Darion pointed to his left, where two carriages waited by the manor’s wall. Their presence was relatively discrete, unlike the loud display from the court’s ministers.

    Raithion approached the carriages and stopped a few feet away.

    “What is your message?” Darion called out to the first carriage.

    When he spoke, a delicate hand pulled open the curtain of the first carriage, and Naeri Ajai peeped out with a small smile.

    “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said in greeting. “I wanted to bring you a care package and welcome you back to the capital.”

    Raithion fought a frown. He had no words for Naeri. Looking at her reminded him of the terrible plot her father had hatched against an innocent clan. Thinking about the Sura Clan put him in a bad mood.

    “Your Highness,” A familiar voice said, and Raithion’s attention was drawn to the carriage waiting behind Naeri.

    “Galor?” Raithion frowned, recognizing the lieutenant whose job was to guard Soriel. “Why are you here and not with Soriel?”

    “I have a note for you,” Galor said as Darion hurried to his carriage window. Galor handed Daron a note and bowed his head. “I’ll head back now. See you around.”

    Daron gave the note to Raithion.

    Raithion ignored Naeri’s expectant expression and read his little sister’s note.

    ‘Palace maid murdered in my residence. Worried it was a plot to discredit our family. Please help.’ – Little Bird.

    Raithion reread the note, worry taking over at the fact that his little sister had faced a threat in the place. He moved to mount his horse without a second thought.

    “Lord Raith,” Daron said.

    “Manage everything here, Daron,” Raithion said. “I need to find a little bird.”

    “I will,” Daron promised.

    Raithion turned his horse toward the palace and rode fast, eager to find Soriel.

    ****

    Naeri watched Raithion Maenaer ride away without glancing at her, and fear enveloped her heart. She had known it was madness to come here to find him, but for him to ignore her so thoroughly…it was like she didn’t exist in his world.

    And what a vibrant world it was, Naeri thought, watching the people exiting carriages and carrying packages and plants into the Maenaer manor. The mood was jovial and energetic, and everyone was friendly. It was nothing like her family’s mood; everyone tiptoed according to Gesi Ajai’s whims and mood.

    “My lady,” the man Raithion had called Daron said.

    “Yes,” Naeri said.

    “I’m sorry we cannot receive you today,” Daron said. “The residence is in transition after travel. Perhaps we can receive you another day.”

    “Of course,” Naeri said. “Let me give you the care package for His Highness.”

    Daron gave her a polite smile. He even took the package her maid handed him with politeness. However, as Naeri’s carriage drove away, she looked out the window in time to see Daron give her package to a legion officer and not the woman she had noted managing Raithion’s personal items. Naeri frowned but did not think much of it.

    After all, she would soon be responsible for Raithion’s personal matters. Maybe he had a legion officer serving in his personal residence. In time, she would perhaps get Raithion to rush to her side the way he had gone to meet his little sister in the palace.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 6

    Arc 2: The Case of the Belladonna Poisoned Palace Maid

    Ch. 6

    Good fortune and smart spending allowed Gesi Ajai to own a home on a quiet street near the palace. It was a neighborhood where most palace officials lived, allowing wives to form groups and children to keep the right company.

    Gesi appreciated the pretentiousness of Crystal Lane. It came in handy now, with his daughter’s marriage ceremony in preparation. Officials from various ministries sent gifts and stopped to talk, offering congratulations and seeking deeper connections.

    Gesi seized this goodwill to promote his thoughts on the finance ministry and seek support for his nomination by the Prime Minister’s men. So far, he had met fifteen palace court officials and felt confident about his nomination. But he intended to continue until no question would be the next minister of finance.

    Gesi smiled at the thought and settled into an armchair in his great room. He watched his wife talking to three ladies-in-waiting who would move into Draeya Commandery Prince’s manor with his daughter. A young woman with dark hair turned and glanced at him, giving a short nod. Gesi held her gaze and smiled when she focused back on his wife’s words.

    He had placed one of his assets in his daughter’s staff. The girl, Rassa, was tasked with spying on the Maenaer house and reporting back to him. If she managed to get any intel, it would be beneficial; if not, she would act as a protector for Naeri.

    He hated to admit it, but his daughter refused to understand his ambition. She held on to the ideals she learned in her schoolroom, clinging to the idea of love and recoiling at any mention of treason or murder. She was a noblewoman. Gesi chuckled. He probably deserved this retribution after years of plotting and deeds he dared not speak of.

    Shaking his head, he picked up the teacup from the stool on his right. Gesi sipped the warm tea and smiled. He watched his wife admonish the three young women.

    Sazama entered the great hall, walking at a hurried pace. He greeted Gesi’s wife before navigating the many chairs to reach Gesi.

    “How is it going?” Gesi asked as Sazama sat on a stool near his armchair.

    “I’ve been cleaning up our traces in the forged silver case. The magistrate at Naga Port claims the Draeya General received an order to capture the thieves stealing the Sura Clan Ore. We can’t find Hulan, who we placed at the port to track the Sura. Draeya General may have caught him.”

    Gesi Ajai frowned.

    “It doesn’t matter,” Gesi said, shaking his head. “The deal I made with Basileus Dio to get Naeri married into the Maenaer house gives us some protection. Basileus Dio will suppress any evidence brought to him by the Draeya General. Still, we should find Hulan. In case he has turned on us.”

    “I’ll keep looking for him,” Sazama said. “The Sura workshop leases have all reverted to the finance office. I have one of our men working to take them over with the magistrate’s help.”

    “That’s good news,” Gesi said with a satisfied nod. He sipped his tea again and smiled at the thought of the revenue the workshops would bring him. “The Sura?”

    “The Sura Chieftain is dead,” Sazama said. “His subordinates held a funeral in the Sura Manor before they left. We found burned pyres in the backyard. Most of the Sura have left the city. Should we let them be? What if they return? What if they discover what we did?”

    “Send a few mercenaries after them,” Gesi said. “Scare them from returning as they flee to the port. If possible, take care of any Sura Clan members who try to stay on the mainland.”

    “I’ll make sure,” Sazama nodded. His gaze strayed to Gesi’s wife and the three ladies-in-waiting who were now sipping tea. “Congratulations on Naeri’s wedding.”

    “It’s a good result,” Gesi said. “I had hoped she would become the Basilinna, but a Commandery Princess is also useful.”

    “Don’t you find it strange how Basileus Dio is marrying Soriel?” Sazama asked. “We managed to get the Dowager Basilinna to approve Naeri. Days after, Basileus Dio is engaged to Soriel Maenaer, and Naeri is entering the Maenaer house.”

    “It is suspect,” Gesi said. “But we all have our schemes. The Basileus would be an idiot not to have his own. I’m sure there are reasons he didn’t want to marry Naeri. What matters now is to grow Naeri’s power and gain a foothold in court. A Basilinna can always change. She must also follow her husband’s edicts. I’ll take it as my good fortune that Naeri fell in with the Draeya General. After all, a Commandery Princess has more freedom.”

    “Hm,” Sazama said, his tone quiet, though he did not voice more thoughts on the matter.

    “What’s next?” Sazama asked.

    “We need to solidify our business in the Sura workshops. Get people to forget that the Sura Clan ever existed in this capital. I need profit flowing,” Gesi said. “The next part of our plan requires a considerable amount of money. Get started.”

    “I’ll see to it,” Sazama said as he got up from the stool and headed out of the great room.

    Gesi watched him leave and smiled at the thought of having someone so energetic working for him. Things were flowing quite well.

    *****

    The Sura carriage stopped at two rest stops on its way to the Naga State Port.

    The first time it stopped, Alise, Azula’s big sister, was ill. A healer saw her at the inn and prescribed calming herbs to help her get through the journey.

    The second time, Azula exited the carriage and entered a busy inn. He stayed for an hour. Three passenger carriages followed him out when he exited the inn.

    Raithion could only assume the passengers in the carriages were Sura Clan members struggling to get to the port. He watched the carriages form a convoy, moving steadily to the port. His heart ached with guilt and pity. He grew angry with his father and hoped to change the case’s outcome in the capital, but there was no way now.

    The only thing he could do was quietly escort Azula’s people to the port and make sure nothing happened to Azula. He could not trust his father or Basileus Dio.

    The Sura Clan was inconvenient. The Forged Silver Case would only end when Azula’s people stayed quiet.

    Shaking his head, Raithion adjusted his hold on his horse’s reins. He led his horse through the thick trees, forging his path parallel to the main road. Behind him, fifteen legion officers followed. He had left Haedor in the capital to keep up appearances. He was supposed to be preparing for his wedding, not out here protecting a criminal clan.

    “Your Highness,” the acting lieutenant said, using his new title. “We have movement on the other side.”

    “Let the carriages pass and intercept,” Raithion ordered.

    Raithion stopped his horse, dismounted, and focused on beating back the mercenaries he had been sure would be sent to clean up the Sura Clan. He pulled out the daggers Azula had given him from the sheaths the Maenaer blacksmith had given him before he left. He looked at the carriage carrying Azula and his sister before he turned back to join his officers as they engaged the approaching fierce mercenaries.

    The fight was fast and bloody. Raithion cut down three of the men, all dressed in black. They could not keep any of them alive. They chased down anyone who tried to return to the capital. He could not have them report back to their master until Azula and his people were safe.

    The journey to the port was slow. The carriages following Azula were filled with women and children. Azula’s carriage led the way to the Sura Clan’s shipping dock when they reached the port city.

    Raithion made sure his soldiers remained hidden. It was difficult to forget Azula’s anger when they last met, and he was not sure Azula would like to see him now.

    ****

    Azula helped two children out of the carriage and watched them run up the gangplank, boarding the last Sura Clan ship headed to the island. The port city was eerily quiet beyond the docks. News had reached the merchants and the port city dwellers of the Sura Clan’s misfortunes.

    There was no easy way to discuss the matter.

    Azula had no idea where to begin to understand what had happened to his father.

    Why did his father die? Who dragged his father to the magistrate’s compound? Why did his family have to leave the capital?

    Alise was not talking. She could not provide the answers.

    The Sura Clan’s main council was already on the island. The only person who could provide answers was Juya or his mother, but they had no time to discuss. Between getting the women and children into the last ship and ensuring their warehouse was emptied and no Sura Clan member was left behind, there was no time for a good conversation.

    “What about the carriage?” Sennin asked Azula when everyone was onboard.

    “Um,” Azula stared at the carriage he had hoped to give to Alise for her wedding. It had carried his father’s ashes instead of a bride. “Let my father finish his journey on it. I’ll disassemble it when we reach the island.”

    “Alright,” Sennin called out to the men who had journeyed with them, and they worked on getting the carriage into the cargo hold.

    Azula stood on a path he had stood at days ago and stared at the Sura Clan’s warehouse. He remembered the happier days, arriving on this dock to deliver Magnus’s mangoes to the many merchants in the port city or delivering ore to the warehouse for transport to the capital. To meet Alise when she returned to the island after weeks of being away. Now, the warehouse doors were closed. The port city dwellers watched them warily; no one dared approach them to escape trouble.

    Shaking his head, Azula started to turn to board the ship, only to stop when a commanding shout rang out.

    “Halt! Azula Doriel, the port’s magistrate, wants us to confiscate your ship. Get everything off. That ship is not going anywhere.”

    Azula turned to find four lieutenants from the magistrate’s compound with dozens of port officers. They held big sticks, ready to beat Azula and his people into submission at the first sign of resistance.

    Azula chuckled and sneered as he turned to look at the lieutenants.

    “Catching thieves is too difficult, but stepping on those who have fallen is easy,” Azula said. “Let me see you try to get my people out.”

    “Don’t think we won’t beat you to death to get through,” one of the lieutenants said.

    “Try it,” Azula shouted, his fingers in tight fists. Rage built up so deep inside him he worried he would explode into tiny pieces. “Beat me to death if you can.”

    “Azula.”

    A scared voice called his name and pulled him out of the rage. He turned to find Alise hurrying down the gangplank, still dressed in the white mourning dress she had worn at their family’s manor in the capital city.

    “Be careful,” Alise said, gripping his left arm. “Nothing can happen to you. I’ll try talking to them.”

    Azula started to protest her gentle approach, but she never got a chance to speak. An arrow sunk into her left shoulder, dragging a scream from Azula. He wrapped his arm around Alise tight to keep her standing and turned to see one of the magistrate’s officers holding a bow. How dare they! How dare they!

    “Return…to the ship,” Alise managed, gripping the front of Azula’s shirt.

    Azula could not look away from the arrow lodged into her shoulder, holding Alise tight, frozen in place. Blood soaked Alise’s white dress, and he let out another cry as she gasped.

    “Azula,” Alise pulled on the front of his shirt with her free hand.

    Azula stared at the wound on his sister’s left shoulder with growing despair and anger. Alise tugged on his shirt another second, then pushed away from him. He reached for her, but she slapped his left cheek with unprecedented strength.

    “Azula Doriel, our Sura ship is strong enough to withstand the rigors of the sea. A few arrows will not bring it down. Let’s go, or we will die here,” Alise ordered. “Let’s go.”

    Azula ignored the magistrate’s officers behind them and lifted Alise into his arms. He raced up the gangplank.

    “Raise the gangplank. Cast off port bow line,” Azula yelled, carrying his sister to sit on a crate.

    He was glad when the ship’s crew got to work, calling out orders and scrambling to get the ship sailing.

    “Casting off port bow line,” One of the crew called out.

    “Women and children below deck,” Azula called. “Arrows inbound, prepare to defend. Standby to raise the main. Find Torak. I need his help.”

    “Bowline all clear!”

    Sennin led strong men to the rails, each holding arrows and bows. A wave of arrows lined the side of their ship, and Sennin’s men retaliated by releasing arrows to the line of attackers.

    Juya, one of the council members, hurried to Azula and Alise.

    “Torak is no longer with us,” Juya said when Azula gave him a confused glance. “He was with Chief Marius at the magistrate.”

    Torak was his father’s most trusted aide. He lived in the Doriel Manor in the capital and knew everything about their family. He was practically an uncle.

    Azula sighed as another loss hit him.

    “Help my sister to her quarters. Get a healer to remove the arrow. Tell the healer to ensure the arrow was not poisoned,” Azula said. “I have to get us away from this port.”

    “Don’t worry,” Juya said, lifting Alise with care. “Your mother and mine are with us. They will help. Don’t worry about anything below deck. I’ll handle it.”

    “Thank you,” Azula said, watching Juya hurry away as fast as he could with the chaos on deck.

    “Bow clear!”

    The confirmation pulled Azula out of his thoughts, and he decided to worry about Alise once they were in the middle of the sea.

    “Raise the main,” Azula called and hurried to join Sennin on the rail. He was surprised to find the magistrate’s legion officers fighting off men dressed in black.

    “What’s going on? Who are they?” Sennin asked as he watched the fiercest man in black fighting with two blades.

    The unknown fighter slashed at the magistrate’s officers down without mercy, turning the dock into a bloody scene. Then, the majestic fighter joined the daggers he held in a fast, efficient move and turned the daggers into a long blade.

    Azula breathed in as he recognized the blades he had crafted and gifted to Raithion Maenaer in a show of naïve trust. He remembered enjoying Raithion’s smile as they rode the carriage to the capital. Raithion thanked him for the blades.

    Azula closed his eyes when the image of his father lying on a palette in the city’s morgue filled his brain. Raithion’s promises were so easily defeated.

    “Why is he here?” Azula murmured and frowned when Raithion finished dealing with the magistrate’s legion officers and hurried to the end of the dock, watching him.

    “Should we stop our departure?” Sennin asked. “Whoever he is, he helped us. We should thank him.”

    “Alise is injured,” Azula said. “Our clan is hunted. We can’t stop. Whoever he is doesn’t matter anymore. Our Sura Clan has nothing to do with a master of ashes.”

    “Azula,” Sennin started, but Azula gave Raithion one last glance and turned away.

    “Azula hands over to the shipmaster,” he called out and nodded when their Ship’s Captain took command.

    Azula headed below deck in search of Alise and his mother.

    As for his crush on Raithion Maenaer, he would consider it a period of bad judgment.

    ****

    Raithion watched the last Sura Clan ship sail away with a heavy heart. He gripped the joined dagger handle tight and wished he could change the outcome of the Forged Silver Coins case. Shaking his head, he wished he and Azula had met under better circumstances.

    “What are your orders, Your Highness?” his lieutenant asked.

    “Clean up the magistrate’s office,” Raithion said. “Send a message to the Naga State King. Tell him the port’s magistrate has succumbed to injuries incurred in a training exercise. Appoint the number one scholar from our Draeya County to the magistrate’s position. Replace the legion officers with the forces from Draeya.”

    “You’re taking control of the port,” the lieutenant said.

    “Quietly,” Raithion said with a sigh. “Do it quietly. Don’t alert my father or Gesi Ajai. Use secret soldiers to get any Sura Clan stragglers to the Sura Island. No harm should come to them. Those are my orders.”

    “I will relay them. Do you think the young Chieftain’s son will ever return?” the lieutenant asked.

    Raithion felt his heart clench with disappointment.

    “I hope he returns,” Raithion said. “I hope I’m strong enough to protect him when he returns.”

    *****

    Azula sat on a chair beside his mother. They watched the healers work on Alise on her bed. Alise was pale. Her strawberry-blonde hair was scattered on the pillows, clean and free of the dark charcoal they had used to hide its color. Azula’s gaze lingered on the bloody bandages on a tray next to one of the healers.

    She ensured they did not fall on the floor, even as the second healer added more.

    “The wound is clean,” the healer said. “Lena, pass me the yarrow powder.”

    Lena stopped arranging the bloody bandages and handed over a bottle from a clean tray.

    “How is it, Evie?” Lasma asked, a frown creasing her brow as she gripped Azula’s right hand tight. Her worry for Alise was palpable.

    “She’s going to be in pain for a while,” Evie said as she worked. “The wound is deep. We’ll need to worry about the use of her shoulder later. For now, I’ve stopped the bleeding and cleaned out any debris left by the arrow. We’ll work to keep her comfortable and the wound clean until we arrive home.”

    “Thank goodness,” Lasma said with a nod.

    “There is something else you should know, Chief Lasma,” Evie said, pausing to look at Lasma and Azula.

    “Out with it, Evie,” Lasma said when she hesitated. “Is my daughter in danger?”

    “She is with child,” Evie said.

    Lasma gasped and stood up to hurry to the bed. Lena picked up the tray of dirty bandages and took it away. Lasma sat on the clean covers and reached for Alise’s left wrist.

    Azula froze in his chair and prayed Evie was wrong.

    Lasma was a healer’s daughter and had grown up learning to read pulses. Now, as the wife of a chieftain, she had spent most of her time helping women through their pregnancies. It took her no time to read her own daughter’s pulse. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and Azula nodded.

    “Do you know the father?” Evie asked, her voice soft and kind.

    “Yes,” Lasma said, shaking her head. “Yemin.”

    Evie let out a sad sigh, and they all stared at Alise.

    “Did father acknowledge him?” Azula asked.

    “He did,” Lasma said. “Alise invited him for a meal at home. Yemin came over and promised to protect Alise for the rest of his life. We waited for her to braid Yemin’s hair for the first time when you arrived. We should not have waited.”

    “Then,” Azula swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Let’s take it that she did. Yemin is my brother-in-law. We shall give him this honor from now on. I’ll help him raise his son or daughter as a second father.”

    “It is the right thing, Azula,” Lasma said, holding Alise’s hand tight.

    “Well, then I’ll let everyone know. It is good to have something to celebrate after all the tragedy,” Evie said. “We’ll work to make sure Alise is in good health. She’s now two people.”

    “Thank you, Evie,” Lasma said and nodded when Evie started to right Alise’s clothes.

    Evie and Lena had helped her change into a fresh white dress. The color made Alise look too pale, but it was one they would all have to wear for the next three months as they mourned the dead.

    “Mom,” Azula said. “What happened in the capital? Why did Pa end up in the city morgue?”

    Lasma shook her head and shifted to help Evie arrange the covers around Alise. When Alise was comfortable, Evie left to brew medicinal herbs with Lena.

    “Someone set your father up,” Lasma sighed heavily.

    She wore a long white dress, and white strands stained her strawberry-blonde hair. A white band controlled her hair, keeping the braids she wore as the Chieftain’s wife down her back.

    Azula did not rush her, watching as Lasma rubbed Alise’s left hand to infuse her energy into Alise, who had passed out from the pain of removing the arrow earlier. She had not woken up since.

    “Your father worried the scarcity of ore in our workshops would anger our customers. Which was why he asked you to deliver the ore in person,” Lasma said. “Tensions in the capital were rising. Forged silver coins were flowing in the markets. Everyone suffered a deficit in the exchange bureaus. Losing too much and not making enough,” Lasma shook her head. “Thinking about it now, we had no chance.”

    “Why?”

    “Someone analyzed the forged silver and said the ore at the core of the forged coins was ours,” Lasma said. “The imperial court took over the matter, and the finance minister started an investigation. Worried there would be trouble, your father asked Yemin to make sure our workshops had no molds that could make coins in the workshops. He also asked the old General Maenaer for help. Something went wrong in between. The magistrate’s officers caught Yemin destroying molds in one of the workshops. They arrested him and everyone in the workshop.”

    Lasma started crying, and Azula closed his eyes.

    “The Inspector General in charge of the forged silver coin case dragged your father away to his offices,” Lasma said. “They said it was an inquiry, but he was worried. He asked Alise to move our assets and start clearing out our Doriel Manor in the city. I helped her where I could, getting the old clan matriarchs out of the city. We rushed everyone out, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, and we could not save Marius.”

    Azula opened his eyes and stood. He hurried to hug his mother as she cried hard.

    “Marius did nothing wrong,” Lasma said, sobbing into his shoulder. “He cared for the clan and ensured our workshops were running well. He never stepped foot into the political world of the capital. Never. As we left the city, I was shocked to hear strangers accusing him of collaborating with the finance minister to forge silver coins. The rumors escalated. People started throwing stones at our clan members. Our hair is too distinct. It was so easy for them to turn against us. They lynched the Remming boy outside one of the exchange bureaus. That’s when we knew we had to get everyone out.”

    Azula swallowed down his anger and held his mother tight.

    “What are we going to do now?” Lasma asked, sobbing. “What will we do now.”

    “Don’t worry about that right now,” Azula soothed. “I’m here, and so is Alise. We still have Magnus on the island. Mom, don’t worry. We’ll get through it. I’ll see to it.”

    Azula held his mother tight as she cried for a while, then when she was stable, she took a deep breath and leaned on him.

    “When we get to the island, you’ll have to lead the funeral ceremony,” Lasma said. “So many of our people are dead. Complete the funeral ceremony well.”

    “I will arrange it,” Azula said.

    “Juya is reliable. He knows the procedures and does not mind helping,” Lasma said. “Alvas won’t mind managing the meals. You can also lean on Kalas and Sennin. Do you remember how to blow the mourning horn?”

    “I won’t forget how,” Azula said, staring at Alise’s pale face in the bed. “Our family has faced such a catastrophe at the hands of someone. The least I can do is send them to rest well and find a way to get our family justice.”

    “Don’t be vengeful,” Lasma said, gripping Azula’s right wrist tight. “Look at me, Azula Doriel.”

    Azula tried not to, but she tugged on his wrist.

    “Now!”

    Azula swallowed his anger down and met her green gaze.

    “You have your father’s eyes,” she said. “Marius was kind and took care of his clansmen first. He lived for his people. You are his son. Your priority is the clan and your sister’s well-being. You have already promised to be a father to her child. Do you know vengeance will destroy everything you hope to protect?”

    “Mom.”

    “Promise me now,” Lasma said. “You will not avenge your father.”

    Azula cursed inside and held his mother’s gaze, wondering if he could lie to her, but she narrowed her gaze at him.

    “You,” Lasma said. “The only vow I want to hear is that you will focus on protecting your people.”

    Azula sighed.

    “I vow to protect the Sura, my family, and the generations to come,” Azula said.

    “No vengeance,” Lasma said.

    “I will not seek vengeance,” Azula said, but he would discover the truth of his father’s death. Draw it out to the open and let others take vengeance.

    “You’re a good man,” Lasma said with a nod. “I’ll hold you to your promise.”

    Azula kissed his mother’s left cheek, then her right, and hugged her tight.

    *****

    The sun rose bright, and the Sura Clan’s wild forests were awash in vibrant greens, cheerful birds, and wild animals living their lives. Harmony filled the wild, but sorrow ruled the descendants of the Sura Clan.

    Azula Doriel, the second child of the fallen Chieftain, stepped down the steps outside the grand hall found in the village center. His feet were in flat sandals adorned with gold satin straps.

    White ash covered Azula’s feet. He wore a long white sarong with shorts underneath. The white sarong was tied fast around his hips with a thin gold belt. He also wore a wider gold belt embedded with carnelian stones, large and small, to protect the bearer of the dead. On his wrists were gold cuffs, also adorned with carnelian stones. His long strawberry blonde hair was combed out today, with no braids in sight. His hair was left to fall free down his back to symbolize profound loss.

    Azula wore nothing else. His bare chest was clean and free of jewelry or clothing. Azula looked up at the bright sky and wondered when some of the light would penetrate his grieving soul. Shaking his head, he walked down the stone path with deliberate steps. Ahead of him was a tight circle made by the people who had lost a relative in the capital’s massacre.

    The grieving made a path for him to enter the circle, and he held out his hands and closed his eyes. Each approached Azula and marked his bare chest with wood ash mixed with carnelian stone dust. He waited with patience as they marked his body.

    When they stopped, Magnus walked up to him with a torch drenched with sulfur and had a long gold handle to protect the bearer. The sulfur would keep the fire burning for an hour. The torch symbolized an eternal fire burning to light the way for the departed.

    “Azula Doriel, son of Chieftain Marius Doriel, we task you with leading the departed to the afterlife,” Magnus said, his voice booming as everyone stood quiet, listening. “Lead them so they may find their way to peace and forget the woes of this life. May your steps be steady so they may find the courage to follow. May your loss be eased when you reach your destination so that you may return to find us, the living, waiting for you.”

    “The message is heard,” Azula said, his voice laced with unshed tears. “I will lead the way.”

    Magnus took the torch from him with his left hand and held out his right to indicate the way to the mourning horn. Azula looked around the crowd of his people, giving each one a nod of reassurance, before he took the necessary steps to the massive coiled horn forged with bronze. It sat on a stone pedestal, its surface carved with the Sura clan tribal designs. An ancestor had forged it long before Azula was born.

    Azula climbed the broad steps to the blowing end of the horn and took several breaths to control his breathing. He made the first blow. It was thunderous, signaling the start of the final journey. He was to blow the horn three times to indicate the clan’s chief had died and left his seat vacant. Otherwise, one blow of the horn was enough for the clan members.

    Azula blew the second one, and tears filled his eyes when he spotted Alise coming out of the large hall with Juya helping to steady her steps. She was still in pain; her wound had not healed yet. Alise gripped Juya’s hand tight when Azula started blowing the last one, long and hard to share the brevity of the loss.

    Azula stopped and stepped down, tears streaming down his face. He took the torch from Magnus and would have started walking to the path leading to the mountain’s caves, but Alise shouted his name.

    “Wait,” Alise said. “Wait for me, Azu.”

    Azula stopped and turned to see Juya carrying and hurrying to his side. When she stood before him, she held out a thick gold necklace with a large carnelian stone hanging on the end. Azula bent his head and let her place the necklace around his neck. She ensured his hair was free and reached up to wipe his tears with her palms.

    “May your steps be steady so that they are not afraid. When you finish your task, return home, and I’ll make sure a bowl of soup waits for you,” Alise said.

    “Mm,” Azula said, not touching her. He did not want to make her white dress dirty with all the ashes on his body. He took in a deep breath and stepped away from Alise. He gave Juya a grateful glance, then headed out to lead the procession to the mountain caves.

    The stone path leading to the mountains was wide enough for a carriage. Four men led the way, hitting the drums to make way. The sound was more symbolic than practical, as everyone on the island was attending the procession.

    Azula followed the four men, his steps steady and deliberate. He carried the gold torch high, lighting the way for the carriage with four horses behind him. The carriage he forged for Alise now carried the ashes of his people to their final resting place.

    The walk took an hour. Everyone Azula met sprinkled him with carnelian stone dust, hoping to add to the stones he already carried on his jewelry. The path turned uneven at the mountain, and thirty-six volunteers retrieved the ash bags from the carriage.

    Azula was not surprised to see his mother carrying her husband’s ashes as she stopped right behind him. If Alise could, she would stand next to Lasma, holding Yemin’s ashes. Instead, Alvas stood next to Lasma in Alise’s stead.

    When everyone was ready, Azula led the procession deeper into the mountains to the sacred cave with the deepest tunnel. The tunnel led to a hot lava river in the depths of the Sura Clan. The lava river had long gone silent, but there were seasons when it turned active. The Sura ancestors believed the fire god would lead them to the afterlife, burning away their sins and bad luck, leaving only good fortune.

    Azula stopped at the most prominent spot, holding the torch above his head. His mother stood on his right, and Alvas stood on his left. They waited as the others came and dropped the bags of ashes down the tunnel. Thirty-one bags of ashes were released down the tunnel. Then, it was Alva’s turn. Azula pulled off the chain around his neck and handed it to Alva. She tied it around Yemin’s ashes and let him go to the afterlife.

    Then, there was Lasma.

    Azula held his left hand to her, and she took off the wide gold cuff with carnelian stones. Holding the torch with his left hand, he moved his right hand to her. She took off the second gold cuff. Smiling at her, he extended his hands and nodded to the gold belt around his waist. It was heavy with carnelian stones. Alvas helped him unclip the belt. She was careful to leave the thin gold belt around his waist as it held the long white sarong in place. Azula watched his mother wrap his father’s ashes in the gold belt, clipping the cuffs to the belt.

    Lasma held his gaze for a minute, and then she let out a soft breath as she let go of Marius’s ashes. As the ashes descended and left their sight, none of them cried, not wanting to burden him with their grief. Crying would be later.

    Azula nodded to Alvas. Alvas wrapped strong arms around Lasma and led her out of the cave.

    Looking at his fellow clan members, Azula lifted the torch and tossed it into the tunnel.

    “The fallen have found their way,” Azula said, raising his voice for all to hear. “May they rest in eternal peace. Now and forever.”

    “May they rest in peace,” the answer came.

    Azula stared at the disappearing torch down the tunnel and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to seek vengeance. He would work at protecting his people for now, for his sister and her unborn child. As for the truth that had led to this tragedy, it would wait, but he would get it out.

    Letting out a soft sigh, he turned when Kalas gripped his left elbow and pulled him away from the tunnel’s edge of the tunnel.

    “Let’s go,” Kalas said. “You still have to walk back to the village hall for everyone to be at ease. Don’t linger here.”

    Azula met Kalas’s gaze, nodded, and left the mountain cave.

    Outside, he spotted the gorgeous carriage he had built with love. Azula had doused the carriage with igniting fuel before it started its journey up the mountain. Kalas set the horses free and sent them on the path back to the village.

    Azula took the fire torch Kalas handed him and stood before the carriage. His thoughts filled with the memory of playing chess with Raithion, playing cards, and eating snacks as Raithion sat still on the bench. Then, the memory of Alise curled on one of the benches as she clutched Yemin’s ashes took precedence.

    Shaking his head, Azula stepped forward and set the carriage on fire. It was good to burn away bad luck and hope for good fortune in the future. When he had time, he would make a new one.

    “What about the ore hidden inside?” Sennin asked, coming to join them.

    “Let it burn,” Azula said, his voice turning cold. “Let it serve as a reminder that someone dared use our ore to frame our clansmen. None of us should forget this painful lesson.”

    Kalas sighed, and Sennin squeezed Azula’s right shoulder tight. They watched the carriage burn to ashes, and once it crumbled, Azula threw the torch he used to ignite it into the broken mess and headed down the path.

    Someone sprayed him with cold water from a bottle, and he hissed but did not complain. There would be more as his clansmen worked to wash away the ashes from his body. He was drenched with water when he reached the village hall.

    Kalas and Sennin pulled Azula into a white tent, where he found a bath filled with warm water and a set of fresh clothes waiting on a stool.

    Azula bathed fast, washing away ash remnants from his hair and body. When he was clean, he dried himself and wore fresh clothes. They were white, too. White shorts, trousers, and a long white tunic adorned with gold embroidery on the hem. His hair was to stay unbraided for three months. He was unmarried and now without a father. The loss was his lot.

    Azula wore white socks and sank his feet into comfortable white boots. He stepped out of the tent, and Kalas placed a long, heavy wool coat on his shoulders.

    “Your sister worries you’ll catch a cold,” Kalas said.

    Azula wore the coat and freed his hair as he walked up the steps and entered the large village hall. It was alive with activity. Long tables and benches filled the large hall. Attendants served food, and everyone was tending to bereaved families. They all greeted Azula when they saw him, stopping to give him comforting words, promises for a better future, and kind words about Marius.

    It took him a long time to reach the bench at the dais where Alise, Lasma, and Magnus waited for him.

    “Sit, child,” Magnus said, leading him to the chair between Alise and Lasma. “Eat first. You might fall at this rate. Kalas, get him hot spiced teas. His hair is not dry yet.”

    Azula ate when they placed a bowl of vegetable soup before him. He drank the hot spiced tea when it came and listened when people walked up to the table to talk about Marius. He kept his thoughts carefully blank, dealing with only the immediate events in the hall. He was comfortable until Magnus’s voice broke in.

    “We need to name the next chieftain,” Magnus said.

    “There is no need to name the next chief,” Azula said. “Alise is the next one.”

    “No,” Alise said, shocking Azula.

    “What?” Azula turned to face her. “Alise—”

    Alise glanced at him, then smiled as she looked at their mother.

    “You should tell him,” Alise said. “It will be easier coming from you.”

    “Tell me what?” Azula asked, frowning at Alise. “If you are worried about the baby, don’t. I’ll help you raise the child. Yemin is my brother-in-law. You don’t have to worry—”

    “Her pregnancy is fragile,” Lasma said, cutting into Azula’s tirade. “Alise wants to keep Yemin’s baby. She needs to be taken care of with no stress and no chances of infection. Today was an exception. She could not miss her husband and her father’s funerals. But from now on…”

    Lasma trailed off.

    “Azula,” Alise said, reaching for Azula’s left hand. “Please help me find a way to save Yemin’s child. It is the last thing he left me. I can’t lose this baby. Please take over as Chieftain. We need someone who can help rebuild our strength. Everyone has lost so much. Our island is home, but we need supplies to keep going. We need commerce and education. Otherwise, we will stagnate and disappear.”

    “I-I-,” Azula started to protest, but then he caught Magnus’s gaze. “You too?”

    “There is no other choice,” Magnus said.

    “You can be—

    “Marius was Chieftain,” Magnus said. “His children shall take over the mantle. I’m too independent to care for a clan, Azu. You know that. You’ve been managing this island on my behalf for ages.”

    “But—”

    Azula stopped when Lasma slammed her fist on the table, upsetting her plate.

    “Step up,” Lasma said. “The clan is looking to us for a way forward. If you’re hesitating and unsure, what do you think will happen to all of us?”

    Azula gripped Alise’s hand tight and stared at the people talking and moving around the hall. They managed their grief and the loss of their livelihoods and lifestyles they had forged on the mainland. The island was going to change now, and it would take work.

    Azula met Alise’s expectant gaze and let out a sigh. He wanted Alise to take care of her unborn baby. She was injured now, and her baby was too small and defenseless. Yemin was gone, and she could not get another from him. If she lost this child, he shook his head, unable to imagine the loss.

    “Fine, I’ll do it,” Azula said. “But, Alise, we must agree. I’m stepping in for now because we are in a fragile state. Much later, if I come to you—”

    “I know,” Alise smiled and leaned in to kiss his right cheek. “I’ll listen when you come to me much later. I’ll take it on without protest by then.”

    “Good,” Azula nodded and hugged her with care. “I love you, Sis.”

    “I love you too. I’ll try to help out where I can, but it might not be much,” Alise said as she sat back, her hand over her stomach.

    Azula stared at her protective hand on her stomach and nodded in understanding.

    “Okay.” Azula nodded, meeting Magnus’s gaze. He gave him a decisive nod.

    “Glad we have cleared that,” Magnus said with a relieved sigh. “I’ll call the council now, and we can announce it. Rebuilding will start tomorrow. I received a message from the port master at Rewa Port. The Nerasa Kingdom in the northeast has been interested in our ore for some time. We have been relying on Lyria to keep us safe, but now the island is abandoned. We need to find protection.”

    “Nerasa has wanted to annex our island since they discovered we exist,” Lasma said. “Are you sure we can trust them now that Lyria Kingdom is against us?”

    “We’ll have to,” Magnus said.

    “Alternatively, we can also change our political structure,” Alise said, her tone thoughtful. She shook her head as she rubbed her stomach. “Our current standing makes us easy to discard. Sura Mountain is wanted when we provide goods the larger empire wants, but they discard us when they have no use for us. It is fracturing our people. We can’t go on like this.”

    “We belong to the Lyria Kingdom,” Azula reminded her. “Some of our clan members have married partners from the kingdom.”

    “And I don’t take it lightly, Azu,” Alise said. “Still, to be easily discarded, our people murdered like they are flies to swat away. No one should normalize it.”

    “What is your thought?” Lasma asked, looking at Alise.

    “We relied too hard on the kingdom for schooling, commerce, healers, and protection. The Sura Clan men are strong enough to make a good army. We should grow one. We can build our schools and forge products like your carriage to make a kingdom come looking for us. When they do, we shall trade by our rules and our circumstances. No one in the Sura Clan shall bow down to another kingdom again.”

    Silence filled the hall, and Azula lifted his head to see their people listening to Alise. She remained a leader, even though she had fallen for the moment.

    “Then,” Azula said with a nod. “Let’s build our Sura Island on our own.”

    “Hm,” Alise said, then turned to Magnus. “Then let’s do it now so that he can rest.”

    Azula watched Magnus hurry away, intent on convening the council. Azula gripped Alise’s right hand, afraid of never being able to let go of the yoke about to fall on his shoulders.

    “I’ll hold you to your promise,” Azula said, meeting Alise’s green eyes. “When you are stronger in the future, you will take back the mantle. It will always be yours.”

    “What are you afraid of?” Alise asked, reaching out to caress his right cheek. “I’m here with you. You’re not alone, Azula. Let’s get through this one. I’ll lean on you for now.”

    Azula nodded, then got up when Magnus returned, followed by the council members, including Juya. Two spiritual monks from the Sura Mountain temple near the deep caves followed.

    Azula let out a soft breath. It looked like he could not keep his clothes on today.

    Lasma stood, too, and urged him to remove his white wool coat. She handed it to Alise, who remained seated. Azula removed his tunic and dumped it on his chair. Clenching his hands tight, he paused when Lasma took his right hand and led him around their table to meet the council. The clan could not celebrate a chieftain named on a day of mourning, nor did he get braids in his hair.

    No, he got a prayer in the form of a tattoo on his back to give him strength and to protect him as he fought to protect the clan.

    Azula glanced at Alise before he stepped down. She gave him a slight smile and nodded. She looked confident in his ability to lead the clan, but Azula worried. He had grown up carefree, free to roam the Sura Mountain to his heart’s content, never once thinking of taking over care of a clan.

    Now, Lasma tugged on his right hand, and he looked away from Alise, thinking things were different.

    The clan was sensitive to important ceremonies, and the moment they saw Lasma lead her son to meet the council and the spiritual leaders of the temple, they got up and started arranging the hall. Lasma led Azula to the middle of the hall. The spiritual leaders stood on each side of them while the Sura Clan council, including Magnus, made a circle around them. From there, the clan members made circles around the council, round and round, weaving an intricate web around Azula and his mother until an intricate wide circle filled the hall.

    Lasma met Azula’s gaze, then spoke loud enough for all in the hall to hear.

    “Marius Doriel has taken a journey to the afterlife. He has left behind Alise, wife to Yemin, sister to Azula, and Azula, brother to Alise and Yemin,” Lasma said.

    “I, Marius Doriel’s wife, name Azula the next chieftain. He is the one to help the clan recover after a calamity. I ask the Sura Mountain temple leaders to bless this child, make him strong, and keep him safe as he faces the adversity that awaits him.”

    “Azula is named,” Magnus’s voice boomed. “Is there any protest?”

    Azula bit his bottom lip, sure there would be someone who would raise a concern, but the hall remained quiet. When no one protested, Magnus continued.

    “The Sura Clan Council accepts Lasma Doriel’s decision,” Magnus said.

    Azula breathed in as he turned to the temple leaders. The two men dressed in deep burgundy robes, their hair cut short, walked up to Azula Doriel.

    “Everyone, please sit,” one of them said, and Azula sank to the floor, his legs crossed.

    Azula was conscious of Magnus coming to sit on his left while Kalas took up position on Azula’s right. Azula let out a soft breath as Lasma gathered his hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail. She made sure the strands were falling over his shoulders before she moved away. The lead monk sat behind him, and Magnus handed him a triangle pillow to lean on.

    “Azula, Sura Clan Chieftain, prince of the clan, are you ready to receive your blessing?”

    “Yes,” Azula said, his voice sounding strong enough.

    “Then we shall start,” the lead monk said and started a prayer. As he did so, his assisting monk wiped Azula’s back with a blessed spirit.

    Magnus and Kalas gripped Azula’s arms tight as he leaned on the triangle cushion. The first sting of the monk’s long, sharp steel needle on his skin made him gasp.

    The pain was so deep that Azula bit his bottom lip hard to keep from screaming out in agony. The monk continued his chant as he dipped the needle into a mix of ink, palm oil, and snake venom.

    The monk continued tapping a protection tattoo on Azula’s back. He worked fast, and his hands were swift with the work.

    Pain made Azula’s head muddled. He lost count of the time he sat on the floor with Magnus and Kalas gripping his arms. Each tap on his skin was more painful than the next. Somehow, amidst all the pain, his mind cleared as he realized he was now responsible for the people his father had protected all his life. The thought both scared him and inspired him.

    Closing his eyes, he listened to the monk pray and inserted his quiet request for assistance from the almighty above. The jabs on his back could have been more than three thousand. Azula hoped the pain was enough to seek guidance from the one beyond.

    “Azula, chieftain of the Sura, shall not commit evil deeds, must protect his fellow clansmen, will not get intoxicated and lose his mind, shall not lie to others, and will always do good deeds to farther the clan’s good fortune,” the lead monk said as he completed the tattoo.

    “I have inked a prayer into your back, protecting you from evil deeds against you, filling you with protection, and asking the almighty to grant you strength to fight the battles you face. May good luck always find you and good health and courage embrace you. Guardian of the Sura Clan, may the path be wide and steady.”

    Azula stilled as the monk sprayed blessed spirits on his back, adding to the sting of the tattoo. He was grateful for Magnus and Kalas, who helped him sit up and turn to thank the monks for their prayers.

    Azula pressed his palms in prayer and bowed his head down. He waited for the monk to touch his head before he sat up with Magnus’s help. Fighting back the urge to give in to pain, he took a deep breath and stood with his strength.

    “I vow to protect and to bring prosperity to all the Sura,” Azula said as he looked at the people sitting around the large hall. “Rise, my people. Let’s walk into the future together.”

    Shouts of encouragement rose as everyone stood. Magnus gripped Azula’s right arm when he started to stagger from the pain in his back.

    Juya stepped forward to greet Azula on behalf of the council. Azula fought a frown when Juya placed a gold collar on his neck and locked it with a round carnelian stone that rested between his collarbone.

    Azula took Juya’s extended right arm in a warrior’s handshake, then looked around the room, taking in all the hopeful looks directed his way.

    ‘General Raith, look what your people have done to us. Are you happy in the capital? I hope my father’s death was worth it. Look, they now watch me with a burning hope. What should I do with it but make us stronger? What will you do when I come for answers, master of ashes?’

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 5-3

    Arc 1 – The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    Ch 5-3

    Night came down on Azula like a hammer. His family’s existence burned down to ashes, returning to nothing. No rain fell, and the night breeze was warm and almost comforting. The moonlight was bright.

    Thanks to Sennin, Azula had found Alise and Juya in a remote warehouse where Sura Clan members were boarding carriages and heading to the Naga State Port. When their mother boarded a carriage with Juya’s family, Alise insisted on finding their father.

    So, the four of them took horses, taking advantage of the night to head to the magistrate’s compound in their district. Juya had a contact he was paying who would show them a way into the prisons to visit Marius, Yemin, and all the other Sura Clan members who were under arrest.

    However, when they found the contact, the man led them to the district morgue and asked them to identify the Sura Clan bodies lying on countless mats in the open space inside.

    At first, it felt like a bad dream until Azula recognized his father’s distinctive hair clip. It held several braids crafted by his mother. Azula had crafted the silver clip and gifted it to Marius as a birthday gift two years ago. Their father had worn it every day since.

    “No.”

    Azula wasn’t aware of the words leaving his lips as he jumped over his fallen clans’ men to the pallet where his father lay. A white sheet covered his face. Azula pulled it down, half hoping he was wrong, but then he stared at his father’s face, and the world crashed.

    *****

    Raithion found Azula too late. It was right before dawn, the moonlight fading to give way to the sun. Raithion had raced through the Doriel Manor when he saw smoke rising in the backyard. He stopped at the open back door when he saw the large fire burning in the middle of the back courtyard.

    Azula knelt on the ground in their family’s back courtyard. He wore white robes. His hair was without braids and turned a strange black color. The messy strands fell down his back in disarray.

    Next to Azula was a young woman who had also dyed her hair black. She wore a white dress and seemed unresponsive. She knelt next to her brother, staring at the large funeral pyre that was burning away.

    Two men hovered next to the two siblings. Their gazes were wary when they caught sight of Raithion and Haedor, who stood behind him.

    ****

    “We should go, Azula,” Sennin said. “Let’s go back to the Sura Island. You and your sister will be enough to give our people a way forward and to rebuild. We’ll survive this.”

    “How?” Azula asked his gaze on the burning funeral pyre, his father’s remains burned to ash, reduced to nothing.

    “Step by step, breath by breath, Azula. We will gain back what our family has lost. Build a strong foundation so that we don’t fall this hard again. You are your parents’ son. I know you can help us rebuild. But we need to leave here,” Juya said. “Your sister needs you now.”

    Azula closed his eyes, trying to take in Juya’s words. They sounded like a dream. A dream he did not think he could bring to life. Opening his eyes, he stared at the funeral pyre where his father and Alise’s betrothed, Yemin, burned.

    Alise had fainted the moment she saw Yemin’s body. Her reaction was so strong that they needed a healer to help wake her up. So, Juya and Sennin were looking to Azula for decisions.

    He could barely believe his father’s death. Marius Doriel was dead.

    Azula let that truth sink in for the duration of his father’s cremation. He kept kneeling until the fires cooled, and only the ashes of twenty-eight Sura Clan members remained. Sennin was resourceful. He put Marius and Yemin’s ashes in different bags and brought them to Azula and Alise. Alise held the white cloth bag tight, hugging it to her chest. Juya and Sennin worked fast, packing away the other twenty-six ashes and labeling each one carefully for transport.

    Azula waited on his knees. He untied the white cloth bag and stared at his father’s ashes. He dipped his right thumb into the ashes and brought the pad to his forehead, making a large black dot.

    “I vow to protect our clan, Pa. They will never suffer injustice again,” Azula said. “I’ll find out who did this to you and Yemin. I, Azula, will see to it.”

    “We’re ready,” Sennin said, coming to help Azula up while Juya helped Alise to her feet.

    Azula tightened the tie on the bag he held and turned away from the spent fires. The manor was no use anymore. If it was up to him he would burn the place down, but there was much he did not understand yet. Maybe his father had left a clue here. He had no time to look at it now, but maybe later…much later, he would return to see.

    Azula paused when he saw Raithion standing by the back door, staring at him in the fading moonlight. Anger rose up so hot it threatened to drown him. Sennin’s grip on his left arm tightened to restrain his reaction.

    “We can’t touch him,” Sennin reminded him.

    Azula nodded and kept walking, aware of his sister, who was still listless. Juya was guiding her into the manor. They would not stop. The carriage Azula had brought with him would carry them back to the port. No one knew whose it was, so they would not be stopped.

    Azula walked up the short steps to the back door and froze when Raithion blocked his way.

    “Azula.”

    “Get lost,” Azula said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    “I’m sorry,” Raithion said. “I’m really sorry that I was late. I—”

    “Get lost!” Azula shouted now, his voice gaining strength. “You broke your promises. I thought you were going to protect us, but instead…instead—”

    Azula gripped his father’s ashes and shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. He looked up and met Raithion’s distressed green eyes.

    “Those blades I gave you, consider them blades of doom,” Azula said, barely able to hide his hatred of all that Raithion stood for. “Draeya General, you wield nothing but blades of ashes. I never want to see you again. Get lost!”

    Azula pushed Raithion away with his right hand and continued into the house, walking fast. Sennin followed behind him, and Azula’s tears fell faster as they stepped out the front door. Sennin led him out of the manor’s compound and into the carriage. A carriage that was meant to bring hope to his people was now packed with ashes and his unresponsive sister.

    Azula broke into hard sobs as he hugged his father’s ashes and wondered what the Sura Clan had done to deserve so much tragedy.

    ****

    Later in the afternoon, Gesi Ajai stood beside his wife in their great room, watching Thanir and Silveren Maenaer lead their eldest son, Raithion, into the room. They came to a stop before him and his wife and exchanged pleasantries.

    Basileus Dio and Soriel Maenaer followed behind the trio. Their hands were clasped tight, and a happy glow wrapped around the couple. The new imperial couple was engaged to be married in a week’s time.

    Their union was to be blessed by the Grand Dowager herself.

    Gesi had never thought there would be another making plans to wed the Basileus to a powerful house. Had he known the Grand Dowager had more power than Dio’s mother, he would have approached her instead.

    It’s too bad he missed out on the Basileus.

    However, he did not suffer any losses this time.

    The finance minister was no longer a threat thanks to his careful plans. Gesi Ajai anticipated the Basileus would appoint him to the Finance Ministry in the coming weeks, as for the Sura Clan. The Counterfeit Inspectors Unit had done its job. Scaring everyone in the capital into giving up business with the prosperous clan. The Sura were suspected of forging silver, thanks to the ore samples, coin molds, and the Sura transport carriages discovered in their busiest workshop. The evidence was not enough to convict Marius Doriel and his clan members, but the torture they received in the interrogation had led to death. Leaving the case closed and the Sura Clan exiled from the capital.

    Gesi was satisfied for now.

    Plus, his daughter marrying the Basileus’s brother-in-law was an added bonus.

    After all, thanks to Basileus Dio’s marriage to Soriel Maenaer, Raithion had risen in the ranks of nobility. He was a Commandery Prince, a title Gesi Ajai could not hope to understand how it had been crafted. He could only assume the Grand Dowager was getting on in years.

    Either way, it meant Raithion Maenaer had access to the kingdom’s armies and weapons. He could command an army to defend the kingdom, which meant his wife would have some power in his domain.

    Gesi smiled with glee.

    Perhaps fate was helping his ambitions.

    Gesi squeezed his wife’s arm, urging her to accept the engagement letter Silveren Maenaer held out to them. Benira stepped forward and took the letter with a graceful curtsy.

    “I accept the engagement of our children,” Benira Ajai said with a cordial smile as she rose up and met Silveren’s kind gaze. “May my daughter find happiness by your son’s side.”

    “I’m glad,” Silveren said, then held her right hand to Naeri Ajai.

    ****

    Naeri was apprehensive as she took Silveren’s hand. Her gaze was wary when she stole a look at a quiet Raithion.

    “Welcome to the Maenaer House, daughter,” Silveren said as she pulled Naeri into a tight motherly hug.

    Naeri loved Silveren’s warmth and hoped they would be good friends as the years came. Silveren held her right hand as she introduced her to Thanir Maenaer and Raithion.

    Raithion was so handsome that her heart fluttered with excitement at the sight of him. He was so tall, too, with green eyes and dark hair. She blushed at the thought of him kissing her. He stood tall, untouched by the events happening around him.

    Naeri frowned when it was time to toast their engagement.

    Raithion was cold through the short ceremony of their engagement. She tried to smile at him more than once, but his gaze remained indifferent, even as he hooked his right arm with hers to sip from his goblet for their toast.

    Naeri worried she was marrying an iceberg.

    What fate was this her father had bought her?

    ****

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 5 – 2

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    Chapter 5-2

    Raithion sat on the side bench on Azula’s left. He sat straight, his arms crossed against his chest, and his eyes closed. He tuned his senses to the pace of the carriage as it moved and listened to the rhythm of the horses his legion officers were using, memorizing the pace.

    “My older sister packed beef jerky for me. She’s always afraid I’ll starve during a journey. Would you like to try some? It is well cured,” Azula said, breaking his concentration.

    “Not now,” Raithion said, opening his eyes to find Azula holding the beef jerky in a cute wooden container.

    “Suit yourself,” Azula said, eating with a pleased smile.

    Raithion wondered how he could be so carefree.

    Raithion watched Azula chew on his beef jerky for a while. A frown creased his forehead as he wondered how Azula could be so relaxed. He was not at all worried that he was taking on a fight that may lead to his death.

    What the hell was with Azula Doriel? Why was he so maddening?

    ****

    The carriage offered a comfortable ride. It was not cramped, but with only two passengers, that was expected. Azula was glad to discover his carriage design was quite good. Maybe they could offer a cheaper version of the model for sale in time.

    “Do you live on the Sura Island all the time?” Raithion asked, interrupting Azula’s thoughts.

    “Yes,” Azula said, studying Alva’s packed food. He liked the beef jerky, but now that he had had a taste, he could not eat the sweet dried mangoes. It would make the taste in his mouth strange. He closed the lid on the container and placed it on the bench beside him.

    “Where is Chief Doriel?” Raithion asked.

    “My parents live in the capital,” Azula said. “My sister travels between the island and the capital every three weeks. She keeps us together.”

    “Your older sister will be the next chief, right?” Raithion asked.

    “That’s the plan,” Azula said with a happy nod. “My parents must travel to the Sura Island for the ceremony. The crowning ceremony for a new chief is considered sacred and is done when the new chief decides to marry. Alise has chosen a partner, but she has not stated an intent to marry him yet.”

    “Ah,” Raithion nodded in understanding. “Everyone in the capital knows that the Sura Clan has the most yearly weddings. Your father is always hosting marriage ceremonies every weekend.”

    “More pairs mean our numbers will grow the clan,” Azula said.

    “Why don’t you live in the capital?” Raithion asked.

    “Pa says I am too unruly for the civilized streets of Genad,” Azula said with a smirk.

    “I agree,” Raithion said without hesitation.

    Azula scowled at him.

    “Actually, I prefer the wildness of our home island. I would rather swim in the lake near our home and climb the steep slopes of Sura Mountain or work in the workshop forging metal into useful tools than be in the capital.”

    “We’re alike in that perspective,” Raithion nodded.

    “Where do you prefer to live?” Azula asked.

    “In our family home in Draeya County,” Raithion said. “Our home is also near a lake and we have a lot of family living in the area. Every time I return, it feels like my heart is lighter.”

    “What do you do when you’re not in the army camp?” Azula asked.

    “I raise war horses and work with wood to make furniture and tools,” Raithion said with a smile. “I also like to fish for naughty prey playing in the water. If I’m lucky, I can save them from being in trouble.”

    Azula noted the pointed look Raithion gave him and threw the last piece of the beef jerky he was eating at him.

    Raithion caught it mid-air with practiced ease. He took a bite and nodded in approval.

    “The jerky tastes good,” Raithion said.

    “Mm, my sister is very good at curing meat.”

    “Alise?”

    “Not Alise,” Azula said, shaking his head. “I have another sister, not related to me called Alva. She takes care of our family home. She’s the one who makes the jerky. Do you have sisters, General Raith?”

    “I do, two sisters younger than me,” Raithion said. “They are my closest family…”

    “You smile when you talk about your sisters,” Azula noted with a grin.

    “I can’t help it,” Raithion said with a nod. “Noriel had her wedding days ago, and Soriel is twenty this year. She is still too young. We’re all hoping she accompanies our parents for another year or two. By then, I will have discovered what kind of man Soriel wants to marry.”

    “General Raith, I did not know you would be a doting big brother,” Azula said with a happy chuckle.

    “I can’t hide it,” Raithion said. “Our mother blessed them both with unprecedented beauty. I’ve had to fight off unwanted suitors for a time. This task grows tougher as they grow older and their beauty intensifies.”

    “What a good big brother they have,” Azula said with a happy laugh. “If I tried to chase suitors for Alise, she would bash me with the hefty stone she carries on her belt. I’ll be sure to tell her about you and your ideas.”

    ****

    It was three days after Dio Adertha officiated the Draug wedding. Noriel and her new husband would visit her parents’ house to thank them for the ceremony and show they were getting along in their new married life.

    “Lord Draug has already sent word to his parents’ in-law,” Theod Dorn reported. “He will bring his wife to Marquis Draeya’s manor for the lunch hour meal tomorrow, and they will stay the night and leave the next day.”

    “I want to visit with them,” Dio said. “Make preparations for me to leave the palace unnoticed tomorrow.”

    “I’ll plan for it,” Theod said, looking around Dio’s private office.

    Dio took the opportunity to take him in. Theod Dorn was in his late fifties and head of the palace guard. Theod made sure Dio was safe at all times. He quite literally trusted Theod with his life.

    Over the years, Theod had turned into a reliable confidant. He had helped Dio get through the difficult transition of power after Basileus Rokas died. There was nothing more dangerous than a hostile palace. Dio frowned, thinking about his ambitious mother.

    The Dowager Basilinna had secrets that worried Dio. Secrets he could not dig into yet, until his freedom was secure. It was taking everything he had to stay out of her clutches.

    “Your Majesty,” Theo said. “Dowager Basilinna met Lord Gesi Ajai’s daughter two days ago. The meeting was disguised as a visit to one of her oldest friends in the capital. Thanks to the two legion officers Marquis Draeya gave us, we followed her and discovered the formal meeting. Dowager Basilinna had Lady Ajai pour her a cup of tea in the introduction. The Dowager will find a way for you to meet the girl and propose an engagement.”

    “My grandmother is opposed to the match,” Dio said, sitting back in his chair. “For the same reasons, I’m opposed to Gesi Ajai gaining more power in my court. My aunt Sanan is my strongest backing in the Imperial Diet. The owner of Rose Hall will be someone I love, not some woman my mother wants to consolidate her Witia power.”

    “It’s easier said than done,” Theod said.

    “Yes,” Dio agreed. “So, I’m going to gamble. If I can make a better match before my mother’s proposal is heard, her bid with the Imperial Diet will fail.”

    “Is this why you are choosing Maenaer?” Theod asked.

    Dio studied the jade ring on his right thumb, then smiled.

    “My father sent me a powerful chess piece, complete with a private army. They are strong and loyal to each other. To the Maenaer home, their blood, and their house’s ambitions.”

    “Thanir Maenaer does have ambition burning in his eyes,” Theod nodded. “His son has a different kind of energy. Raithion Maenaer invests in the property his father gave him in Draeya County. Anyone looking into him will see he hopes to return there to live a quiet life.”

    “I’m afraid I cannot let him,” Dio said. “I don’t want to let him go. I want to keep Raithion Maenaer close. To do that, I need to marry his little sister.”

    Theod nodded but made no comment on Dio’s thinking.

    Dio glanced at Theod and found him frowning.

    “What? Am I cruel in your eyes for plotting against Lord General Draeya?”

    “Perhaps,” Theod said with a pained tone.

    Dio could see that Theod respected Rathion Maenaer. There was no reason not to, after all, Raithion was quite impressive to have reached the station of General at twenty-seven. The Naga State King also relied on the Draeya General. What was not to admire?

    “Draeya General is a good man. He is loyal and true. If you corrupt his life with politics and machinations—”

    “I have no choice,” Dio said. “Gesi Ajai is at my door with a daughter he wants to make a Basilinna. That insidious politician cannot gain more than he plans to. Thanks to Thanir Maenaer, I have a way to escape his plans. I also now understand Ajai’s purpose with the forging of silver.”

    “Which is?” Theod asked with a deepening frown.

    Dio stood up from his chair and walked around his desk. He paced across the marble floor to the windows. He stared out into the cool evening. The palace was quieting down. Most officials had left for the day, leaving the resident palace attendants to clean up and lockdown for the night.

    Dio’s office was on the ground floor of the palace. He had a wonderful view of the central gardens. The central gardens were a hundred and fifty feet long rectangle divided with four paths. The paths divided the garden, allowing for a spectacular walking view. The gardener took pride in his work, and the flowers growing in the courtyard were neat and vibrant.

    A young palace attendant walked along the paths now lighting the garden lamps built in intervals.

    Dio dragged his attention back to the case that had taken over his court for weeks.

    “The ministry of agriculture, Ajai’s ministry, can only do so much for his political career,” Dio said. “He needs the Ministry of Finance to make an impact. It is the same path the current prime minister took to gain a foothold in the capital. So, what would an insidious politician do to gain power in a largely peaceful ministry?”

    “Find a way to make trouble for the finance minister,” Theod said with apprehension.

    “There will be losses before the case of the silver forgery is concluded,” Dio said. “The battle between the ministries has already started. Ajai’s allies attacked Finance Minister Pamplona in court today, asking him what he is doing to protect farmers against the volatile silver-gold exchange.”

    Dio shook his head at the memory of watching Pamplona try not to drown in the face of so much opposition from the agriculture office.

    “The inspector general in charge of the case has named the Sura Clan the source of the ore used in the forgeries. Minister Pamplona tried to defend them and faced backlash for his efforts. I had no choice but to order a thorough investigation on the Sura Clan’s workshops and the Ministry of Finance offices.”

    “Ajai will ensure evidence is found to remove Pamplona,” Theod guessed.

    “I have talked to Thanir Maenaer,” Dio said. “I asked him to do his best to save Pamplona’s family from the aftermath of Ajai’s machinations. Ajai may turn heavy-handed and force Pamplona’s family into a deadly corner.”

    “What about the Sura Clan?” Theod asked.

    “Silver forgery is deadly,” Dio said, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. “Draeya General is in pursuit of clues that may help the Sura. I’m afraid he will not make it in time to stop the damage here in the capital. At best, any evidence he finds will be enough to save the clan’s lives. They have become collateral damage.”

    “Why are you so sure, Your Majesty?” Theod asked.

    “The Inspector-General will raid the Sura Workshops tonight,” Dio said. “I hope there is no evidence to bring before a magistrate for their sake.”

    “What is your plan now?” Theod asked.

    “I must protect my position before I can help anyone,” Dio said. “That means visiting Marquis Draeya’s manor tomorrow. Grandmother has agreed to write the proposal for me. Aunt Sanan will come with me and present it to the Draeya Marchioness. I will marry Soriel Maenaer. I will gain Raithion’s full support, forcing him into the military command office.”

    “He may hate you,” Theod pointed out.

    Dio turned to smile at Theod. Theod looked handsome even in his late fifties. Theod was a staunch supporter of Basileus Rokas and the Adertha House. He was the first courtier to point out to Rokas that there was a problem with the Witia Basilinna. The suspicions remained dark for a while before they became strong and hard to ignore.

    When Rokas died, Theod continued to support Dio. Doing his best to support Dion in a palace and with an imperial diet filled with three very strong supporters of the Dowager Basilinna.

    “Draeya General will forgive me in time,” Dio said now. “Most importantly, the Imperial Diet needs new blood. You know that as well as I do. Mother has two strong supporters, Jonas Gella, the imperial history minister, and Frio Briale, the imperial tutor now a magistrate.”

    Dio leaned on the window sill and thought about the people who helped him manage his bloodline as the Basileus. The Imperial Diet had seven seats. Three were controlled by his mother, Dowager Basilinna Olneth. The other four were controlled by House Adertha.

    “On my side, I have the Military Commander, an old fierce general who is always in the defense ministry with no time for palace antics. I have Lathan Ryul from the Ministry of Rites and grandmother. Aunt Sanan breaks the tie, but if anything happens to Grandmother—”

    “You will be vulnerable,” Theod said when Dio broke off. “Olneth will put her relatives in your grandmother’s seat.”

    “Yes,” Dio said with a scoff. “If I marry Soriel Maenaer, her mother will take my grandmother’s place.”

    “Thanir Maenaer will join the Military Commander’s office, and on the outside, you will have Raithion Maenaer,” Theod said. “That is a strong political move, Your Majesty.”

    “Draeya General is my powerful chess piece,’ Dio said with a pleased smile. “I may ask too much out of him, but I’ll work at making it up to him.”

    Theod stood studying Dio for a minute, his gaze quite speculative. He stood tall, dressed in the palace guard uniform. A dark green military coat decorated with gold embroidery and insignias of his rank. The six chevrons on his sleeves were enough to declare his considerable service to the Lyria Kingdom.

    His brown hair was cut short on the sides and left to grow long at the top. It was dusted with gray, thanks to his age. He was a handsome man.

    Theod’s brown eyes turned worried, and Dio sighed.

    “What have you thought of now?” Dio asked.

    “Marrying Soriel Maenaer will not remove your problem. Ajai will still have his daughter and will be looking for a match to serve his purpose,” Theod said.

    “Yes,” Dio nodded. He had spent a considerable time thinking about the consequences of his choices.

    “What will you do about Gesi Ajai’s daughter?”

    “Send her into the Maenaer manor,” Dio said.

    “What?”

    Dio smiled at Theod’s wide gaze.

    “I told you, I will ask quite a lot out of Draeya General this time. In time, I’ll find a way to make it up to him.”

    “That’s—”

    “There is no other way, Theod,” Dio said, holding his gaze. “Now, please make plans for my visit to Marquis Draeya’s home. No one can know my intentions until Soriel Manor walks down the palace court aisle to take her place as the new Basilinna. I’m afraid Ajai and my mother will try to stop me from marrying Soriel.”

    Theod let out a heavy sigh and then nodded. As he left, Dio thought he read disappointment in Theod’s eyes. He did not stop his old friend. He did not want to explore that look further.

    He would if he could keep Raithion from marrying Ajai’s daughter. However, the most logical place to stuff such a volatile chess piece was in the Military Commander’s house.

    The Maenaer family could control Ajai’s daughter, and nullify Gesi’s influence while growing Soriel’s power as a Basilinna.

    Besides, Raithion had not mentioned having a lover. His marriage was to benefit the court as Thanir Maenaer had promised himself. Dio needed this play for now, so he would take it and worry about the outcome later.

    “It’s the only way,” Dio murmured to the empty office.

    ****

    “Good news,” Marius Doriel said, holding a note to his wife, Lasma. “Azula reported the thefts to the port magistrate. “The boy has become sensible. I can’t believe he followed instructions. At least with a report of theft, we can have a good standing in the magistrate’s court.”

    “I hope so,” Lasma said changing into the simple white plain dress she wore to bed. Sinking her fingers into her hair, she finger-combed the long strawberry blonde hair with a blissful moan.

    “The day has been too long today,” Lasma said as she moved to sit at the foot of their large bed. “I spent most of the day convincing our clients we will fulfill their orders in time. This is the first time we’ve ever had to deal with such ore scarcity. I’m worried we will lose trust.”

    “It’s temporary,” Marius said keeping Azula’s note in a box in his side of the open closet. He was already dressed in comfortable white cotton trousers and a simple matching tunic for bed. His graying hair was in neat braids that Lasma had restored the night before. Marius closed the closet doors and turned to smile at his wife.

    “Once Azula arrives, we’ll be able to meet our promises to our customers and find a way forward so that this never happens. Maybe we will convince Azula to stay here with us.”

    Lasma chuckled.

    “Until he drives you insane with mischief,” Lasma said.

    Marius broke into a rich laugh and crossed the room to join his wife at the foot of the bed. He sat beside her, taking her left hand with both of his. He studied the ring on her right middle finger. It was silver with a dark ilmenite stone as the centerpiece. He had designed and forged the ring when he wanted to marry her.

    Over twenty-five years ago, he thought. So many years of ups and downs. Lasma had stood with him, by him, for him and their children through every minute of it.

    “We’ll get through this one, too,” Marius said, squeezing Lasma’s hand. He looked up to meet her gaze and smiled when she leaned in and kissed him.

    Yes, they would get over this small crisis, too.

    The sound of hurried footsteps distracted Marius from his wife’s kisses, and then an urgent knock came on the door.

    “Pa, it’s Alise.”

    “Come in,” Lasma called out, breaking their kiss.

    Alise opened the door and hurried in her expression one of extreme worry.

    “The inspectors in charge of the silver forgery case have raided all our workshops across the city,” Alise said, her voice shaking. “Yemin says they are headed to our manor next. What do we do?”

    “Has there been a message from Marquis Draeya?” Marius asked. “He promised to help—”

    “Yes,” Alise said, holding a rolled note to Marius. “We just received this from Marquis Draeya’s people minutes ago. I have our transport drivers watching the gates.”

    Marius took the note from Marquis Draeya and read it aloud.

    “The charge is treason like Black Cove. Save as many of your people as you can. The capital is no longer safe for your clan. There is no way to escape what is coming.”

    Marius frowned when he finished reading the note.

    “What does the Marquis mean?” Lasma asked.

    “He means we’ve fallen into a pit,” Marius said, getting up. “Alise, evacuate everyone. Use the plain carriages we use to transport Magnus’s mangoes. Let everyone dye their hair black. Lasma, pack the chests in our vaults and send them along with our people to the island.”

    “I don’t understand,” Alise said, taking the note from her father. She frowned when her mother ran out of the bedroom to do as Marius asked.

    “Pa, what is black cove?” Alise asked.

    “They were a mining clan similar to ours. They mined gold in the rivers near Brusan Lake during Basileus Rokas’ time. A case emerged of workshops forging gold coins outside the imperial mint. The members of the Black Cove clan came under suspicion. The ensuing case led to the massacre of all the clan members. It looks like we’ve offended someone in the capital city. We’re now facing the same problem.”

    “But we are not forging silver coins,” Alise said, shaking her head. “We can prove it before a magistrate—”

    “There will be no time to prove it,” Marius said, taking Alise’s right hand and squeezing it tight. “I trust Marquis Draeya’s reasoning. His warning is not light. The best you can do to help right now, Alise, is to get as many of our people out of the city. I’ll face the inspectors when they come. I will stall them enough to give you time to get everyone out.”

    “What about you?” Alise asked. “How will you come out?”

    “I’ll find a way. Yemin will be with me. You told me to trust him,” Marius said, smiling as he caressed Alise’s hair.

    Alise’s green eyes filled with worry. She was afraid.

    “Listen,” Marius said. “You’re my daughter. Brave and fearless. Our people have long looked up to you, Alise. You are their future. Show them they still have one. Get them to the Naga State Port. Make sure everyone crosses to the island and then hold our ships on the island. It will be the only way to keep the clan safe and out of imperial reach.”

    “What about you?” Alise asked.

    “Once I finish with the inspectors, I’ll head to the port. I can always get a boat from the fishermen and return home,” Marius said. “I may be your old father, but I was sailing our wicked seas before you were born. Hm…don’t worry. I’ll find my way home.”

    “What will we do if we lose trade in the capital?” Alise asked.

    “I’ll borrow Azula’s words,” Marius said, pulling Alise into his arms for a tight hug. “The world is vast, and our ships are sturdy. Lyria Kingdom is not the only land. Azula has always been too brave, but his courage will help you sail beyond our island to Genad. You can establish a new trade route. For now, though, we just need to save our people. Can you help me?”

    “Yes, Pa,” Alise said, letting go of him.

    “Good, now go,” Marius said. “Don’t forget to turn your hair dark. The inspectors will be using our traits to capture us.”

    Alise kissed his left cheek, then hurried out to complete her orders.

    Marius looked around the master bedroom he had used for the last decade as he tried to establish their clan’s presence in the capital city. All his plans had been hatched in this room. It was such a pity that it was now turning to dust.

    Thinking about Marquis Draeya’s note, his stomach tied in knots of dread.

    *****

    The night had grown older. Thankfully, the moon was out, the silver light illuminating the deserted road as the carriage raced along, heading to Genad City.

    Haedor rode alongside the carriage with his five of his legion brothers. While the rest of the team rode far ahead, heading to the first stop on the journey. Haedor gripped his reigns when he heard a boisterous laugh inside the carriage.

    Haedor winced, wondering how his general was handling that excitable little imp. A deeper laugh followed, and Haedor’s gaze widened. Azula Doriel was to be admired. He had somehow charmed the aloof Draeya General. No one knew how they were getting along inside the carriage.

    Azula studied the chess board on the bench between him and Raithion inside the carriage. The black and white chess pieces were carved from fine jade. Raith had produced the board from his bags to occupy Azula’s mind.

    Azula frowned as though in deep thought, and then he moved his queen to capture Raithion’s queen. He placed his black queen on Raithion’s side and held Raithion’s queen with a triumphant grin as he met Raithion’s surprised gaze.

    “What?” Azula asked.

    “That is not allowed,” Raithion said. “Azula, you’re not following any of the rules at all. You’re a game rule breaker.”

    “So?” Azula asked. “I don’t like your tone when you call me a rule breaker. I took possession of your queen on the board. Mine has taken over everything. The game is won.”

    “You ignored all the rules of the game. Your win doesn’t count. You’ve gone wild on the board. You have not won the game. You’re cheating.”

    “You said I needed to capture your queen or king. You watched me move my queen to capture yours,” Azula said, pointing to the board. “How did I cheat? Look, this is my pawn. I’ve moved it, and boom.”

    Azula moved his black pawn to knock Raithion’s white pawn to the side. He took Raithion’s white pawn and placed it on the side to join Raithion’s queen. He made no effort to move the pawn according to the game’s rules. It looked like a pawn jumped from one end to the other.

    “I haven’t cheated you one bit,” Azula insisted with a satisfied nod. “Your eyes are open. You watched me move my jade piece. What cheating? I’m clearly following your instructions.”

    Raithion released an exasperated sigh, then placed his hand over the chess board, scattering all the pieces.

    “Only a mad man would try to explain the game of chess to you,” Raithion said. “We’re not playing your way. Find another game to play.”

    “Are you giving up?” Azula asked as he stared at the scattered chess pieces. “I mean, this one was kind of fun. Moving white pieces around with fancy rules. General Raith—

    “Choose another game,” Raithion said.

    “Okay,” Azula said putting away the chess pieces into the handsome carved wood box Raithion had pulled out of his bag. “Do you play this game with your friends?”

    “Yes, with Haedor, my father, and my best friend Kailu, among others,” Raithion said.

    “Hm,” Azula said as he put away the last pieces.

    “Are you sure you don’t fall asleep through it?”

    “No, I don’t fall asleep. You’re the only one who would think of sleep while playing chess,” Raithion said.

    Azula chuckled at the annoyance in Raithion’s voice. He studied the various neat carvings and decided the queen he stole from Raithion looked handsome. He took the white queen and held it up to Raithion.

    “Can I keep this?”

    “The set will be incomplete,” Raithion said.

    “I can compensate you,” Azula said, closing the handsome box and handing it to Raithion. He held on to the white queen and grinned. “Come on, Draeya General. I know you can find another white queen to complete the collection.”

    “It will still feel incomplete,” Raithion insisted.

    “Then, think of me every time you pull this board game out to play,” Azula said and slipped the white queen into his jacket pocket.

    Raithion shifted on the bench so that he sat facing Azula.

    “What will you compensate me with for this loss?”

    Azula studied him for a moment.

    Draeya General was fascinating to spend time with. The man watched Azula too, gauging his every reaction, documenting his mannerisms. It was both interesting and unsettling.

    Oddly arousing, too, Azula thought with a smile. He suddenly had the mad urge to kiss Draeya General.

    So, this was what it felt like to spend time in the company of such a powerful man.

    Azula leaned down to touch the wood under the bench they were sharing. He unlocked a hidden compartment and pulled out a leather bag with a pair of daggers he had brought along on a whim.

    Azula momentarily examined the quality leather bag, then handed it to Draeya General.

    “I made this using precious ore I found in my home workshop. My master says the blades are stronger than usual. I have no use for them other than cutting deer meat and maybe firewood to roast it. Perhaps you can use them to defend someone.”

    Raithion took the bag, holding his gaze before focusing on untying the leather string and opening the leather bag. Inside the bag were two handsome blades. The handles were crafted with intricate designs meant to support a firm grip.

    Raithion placed the bag on the bench and pulled the blades from the leather bag. He studied them with keen interest. The blades were beautifully crafted. Not heavy as to feel cumbersome when in use. The handles were perfectly crafted to weather use. The blades themselves were even more fascinating. The steel used was tempered with an extra mineral that made the face of the blade shine like white ash.

    Raithion traced his right index finger on the blade, wondering if the shine would fade. But it did not. The blades were clean, and the glow was part of its structure.

    “The handles,” Raithion said after a period of study.

    Azula smiled.

    “I’m glad you noticed. Otherwise, it would have been quite a letdown, Draeya General,” Azula said.

    “How do they attach?” Raithion asked.

    “Face the ends together, and you’ll see,” Azula said.

    Raithion turned the handles to face each other, and the moment he held them close, they seemed to snap together. The outer layers of the handles twisted to lock the blades together into a double-bladed spear. One side was longer than the other.

    Raithion stared at the weapon with a rare smile. Azula felt like he had discovered Raithion’s most preferred weapon.

    “How?”

    “My secrets,” Azula said, then grinned. “A clever combination of magnets and levers. I like to tinker. The mechanism will hold up to the abuse of a true fight. I tested it by hitting it against mountain rock for three months. If it could withstand the abuse, a battle would be no issue.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, twisting the blade handles left to unlatch them. He watched the blades detach with a pleased smile.  “Your gift is more valuable than a chess piece from my board game.”

    “You’re helping me transport ore for my family at night with no pay,” Azula said. “It’s equal value.”

    “Okay,” Raithion said, returning the blades to their pouch. He would need to find suitable sheaths for them.

    Azula understood that was something Draeya General would manage with ease.

    “Should we play cards?” Azula asked, patting the space between them.

    He wondered if Draeya General would dare. So far, they had tried chess, before that there was a game of Go, in which Azula broke all the rules after claiming to be a master. Raithion had positively steamed with annoyance. Azula bit back a laugh at the memory.

    “Which card game do you want to play without breaking the rules?” Raithion asked.

    “Rules are for breaking,” Azula said, leaning over to look into the hidden compartment under the bench. Azula pulled out a neat pack of cards.

    “Your compartment can be considered a marvel,” Raithion commented. “It keeps a Go gameboard, cards, intriguing blades, and beef jerky box. What else will I find if I look in there?”

    “Many things,” Azula said, closing the compartment. He shifted on the bench to get more comfortable and held up the pack of cards to shuffle them. Raithion swiped a card from Azula’s left hand and spent a few minutes studying the beautiful designs on the card.

    The back of the cards was decorated with a deep blue background color and gold lines laid out in an intricate doodle. The face of the card had a handsome painting of a lake with a small boat sitting on the horizon. Gold lines made a delicate frame around the painting, and the numbers were embossed on the corners with gold.

    “My sister makes the cards,” Azula said, explaining the beautiful art to Raithion. “Each card holds a different painting. They are scenes from our Sura Island. Everyone appreciates having them around, especially when our clan members have missed home.”

    “The cards are beautifully done,” Raithion complimented.

    “My sister would be glad to hear that,” Azula said with a pleased smile. “Should we play?”

    Azula reached for the card Raithion held and started shuffling honestly. The carriage happened to go over a bump on the road, and Azula lost his balance, leaning forward with a startled gasp. Raithion gripped his shoulders tight to steady him.

    Azula looked up to thank the painfully handsome general and found himself looking into captivating green eyes.

    His breath caught at the punch of attraction that hit him in the gut. No, not attraction, really, but lust. He felt in lust with Draeya General. He wanted to taste Raithion’s lips and find out what it would feel like to have Draeya General hold him and run his hands all over his body. Fates, what would the weight of him holding him down feel like? Azula bit his bottom lip hard, forcing his brain back to the present. He dropped the cards on the bench and pressed his right fist to his hot cheeks, cursing his love for harsh-faced men to eternal damnation.

    “Um,” Azula started, hoping to fill the ensuing silence with anything other than his shaky breath.

    Raithion let out a small chuckle as he studied Azula’s blushing face.

    Azula scowled at him for his obvious teasing.

    Then, before either of them could say more, a knock came on the window.

    “Lord General,” Haedor said. “The team ahead sent a scout. Fifteen mercenaries are waiting in a forest clearing five minutes away.”

    Raithion’s expression changed, turning into a severe no-nonsense expression.

    “Do it as we planned. Let the carriage run without an escort, with only the driver and an attendant. Let’s catch them in the act,” Raithion said.

    “Yes, Lord General,” Haedor said.

    “Good hunting,” Raithion said.

    “You too, Lord General.”

    Azula put away the cards scattered on the bench and locked the hidden luggage compartment under their bench. He watched Raithion button his military jacket, then move the daggers to rest on the bench beside him.

    “We will face your thieves. Haedor will replace the driver, and one of the legion brothers will take over from your attendant. Your Sura people should already be at the rest stop. You will not face losses tonight.”

    Azula nodded and took a deep breath, calming the riotous butterflies in his stomach. He let it out with a nod for Raithion and sat back.

    “General Raith,” Azula said as they counted the five minutes to the attack.

    “Yes.”

    “Thank you,” Azula said. “In case I don’t get a chance later.”

    “You’re welcome,” Raithion said, leaning over to touch the braids in Azula’s hair. “Maybe we can have a mug of warm ale at our next stop. Talk about why you hate following the rules of any game we play together.”

    Azula chuckled and nodded.

    “Sounds like fun.”

    “Then, it’s a promise,” Raithion said.

    *****

    Azula looked apprehensive, even as he sat on his bench, back straight, arms against his chest, with a tough expression. He looked ready to face the bandits alone, but he was also very nervous.

    Raithion hid a smile and closed his eyes, listening to the rhythm of the carriage. The horses accompanying the carriage were gone. Their pace was faster. Haedor was never one to drive a carriage slow if it could get him someplace fast.

    Then, the sound of a log falling across the road disrupted the carriage’s momentum. The horses neighed in distress as Haedor pulled them to a stop. Then, a shout, and Haedor and his assistant fought off attackers with swords.

    Azula shivered, but he did not shake with fear.

    Raithion respected him for that. Not many could withstand the sound of vicious fighting. A scream rent the air. Azula shifted on the bench, but Raithion remained calm. Listening…the five officers in the legion soon joined Haedor and his partner.

    The fighting was intense, the sound of swords clashing turning more vicious.

    The inevitable scratch at the door came, and Azula took an apprehensive breath.

    “Stay where you are,” Raithion said when Azula started to move. “You’ve done everything you should. It’s my turn now. I’ll be happy if you stay still. That way, I can make sure you won’t get hurt, Azula.”

    Azula held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.

    “Okay.”

    “Good,” Raithion said as the door was smashed with a hammer.  The thieves had come prepared to break into the carriage. One moment, Raithion sat calmly on the bench, the next, the blades were in his hands and he was sinking them into the two men rushing in through the door they pried open.

    Raithion’s blade was swift. He was glad Azula stayed put in the corner, catching a glimpse of him in the corner of his eyes. Azula sat frozen, eyes wide as he watched Raithion fight off their assailants, not letting them enter the door.

    ****

    Hulan pushed his horse to the limit as he chased after Draeya General and the Sura Carriage he had spied at the port. Now that the Doriel Son had protection from the government, Hulan knew that he needed to stop the last raid on the Sura carriages. Otherwise, it would ruin his master’s plans.

    Hulan tried hard to catch up, but he was too late. When he came up on the Sura Carriage, it was to witness Draeya General and six of his legion officers fighting the small band of mercenaries that Hulan managed. A bulky, muscled legion officer cut down Levi with little effort. Stabbing his sword into Levi’s chest without mercy. Hulan fought a scream, caught between going to help his fellow mercenaries and running for his life.

    Three of the mercenaries had tried to unlock the carriage with a hammer. Draeya General stood at the doors fighting off two assailants. His blades swift, he cut into the two men fighting him and kicked them away from the door. The action was fast and brutal.

    Hulan realized Draeya General was guarding the entrance into the carriage.

    “Shit,” Hulan cursed as he watched his losses grow bigger. The only thing he could do now was run away. Live to fight another day.

    Hulan started to turn his horse back into the forests near the scene, but a sharp sword rested on his vital vein at his nick before he could run for it.

    “Caught a scurrying rat,” a soft, amused voice said.

    Hulan closed his eyes as panic set in, and the legion officer took over the reigns of his horse.

    ****

    “Lieutenant, I found this one trying to escape the net,” the legion’s scout said. “He was quite interested in the fight. Watched it for a while before he decided to escape.”

    “Good catch, Amola,” Haedor complimented.

    The mercenaries were subdued and looked at the new capture with wary gazes.

    “Boss,” One of them called out, and Haedor smirked, meeting Amola’s excited gaze.

    “A really good catch,” Haedor praised Amola, then dragged the man off his horse.

    Hulan did his best to walk under Haedor’s unforgiving drag, and soon, he found himself kneeling before Draeya General.

    “I remember you,” Azula said, peeping from behind Draeya General’s shoulder. “You were in the magistrate’s office. You made fun of me when I tried to report the thieves troubling us.”

    “Is that so?” Draeya General said, his sharp gaze resting on Hulan. “Who is behind you?”

    Hulan scoffed.

    “It doesn’t matter who is behind me. I’m a small part of the plan,” Hulan said.

    “Why the Sura Clan?” Draeya General asked. “They are a small clan that mines. They have no political power to exploit.”

    “Yet they run most workshops in the Genad City,” Hulan said. “Even a small cog is important in the grand scheme.”

    “Well said,” Draeya General said. “You will help clear the Sura Clan’s name. Where is the rest of the clan’s ore?”

    “You won’t find it,” Hulan said, then smiled as Haedor grabbed his arms and tied them behind his back. He met Azula’s interested gaze and grinned. “It’s too late to save your clan anyway. We’re all pawns in the end.”

    “What does that mean?” Azula yelled, jumping off the carriage and moving around Draeya General to grip Hulan’s wool jacket. “What do you mean by it’s too late?”

    Hulan laughed.

    “You’ll know when you get to the city. That’s all I will say.”

    “Take him away,” Draeya General ordered.

    Haedor dragged Hulan away.

    Azula panicked and worried, turned to Raithion.

    “Will my family be fine? You said as long as we reported, everything would be solved. You promised, Draeya General,” Azula said.

    “I did promise,” Raithion said, holding his daggers in one hand. He wrapped a comforting arm around Azula’s shoulders and led him back to the carriage.

    “Don’t listen to the bad guy when we haven’t reached the capital,” Raithion said. “Now that I have the thieves in hand, your case should get easier.”

    “Trust me,” Raithion said once Azula was settled in the carriage.

    Raithion left to make sure all the thieves who were alive were arrested. He left five mercenary corpses with four of his legion officers. Once they reached the rest stop, Raithion would send the morgue attendants to relieve his officers.

    It was lucky that Haedor had sent Azula’s companions ahead, allowing them to fight without restraint.

    Back in the carriage, Azula’s playfulness all but disappeared. He sat in the corner of one bench with his arms crossed against his chest. The expression on his face was full of worry.

    Raithion assumed he was thinking about his family in the capital. Understandably, the next few hours were going to be difficult for the Sura Clan.

    *****

    Chaos erupted in the capital city as inspectors from the Counterfeit Inspector Unit started a mass arrest of all Sura Clan members. Merchants closed their doors to anyone with strawberry blonde hair or the colorful clothes the Sura Clan liked to wear.

    People on the streets scolded Sura Clan members if they met them. Caught between annoyance and relief that the case of the forged silver coins was ending. No one wanted to suffer more losses at the exchange bureau.

    Inspectors dragged Marius Doriel out of his manor with a few subordinates while a coordinated search for the rest of his family started. They searched the Doriel Manor for clues, but when none could be found, the inspectors started a tough interrogation, hoping Marius would give up his secrets.

    “I have to get them out,” Alise said, pacing the length of the small waiting room at a warehouse owned by Yemin’s aunt. It was on the outskirts of Genad City and served as a station to get Sura Clan members on the Naga State Road to the port.

    “Your mother said no,” Juya said, packing up a bag filled with beef jerky to be eaten by children on the road. “You have to get to the port to direct our clan’s departure.”

    “I can’t just run to safety and leave Pa and everyone caught with him,” Alise said, shaking her head as she paced. She wrung her fingers together and closed her eyes. “What do we do?”

    “Let’s get everyone who has made it here into the carriages first,” Juya suggested, closing the bags he was packing behind her. “Your Ma is not here yet. We need to make sure she leaves too, then we can find out what to do about Chief Marius.”

    Alise stopped pacing and met Juya’s worried gaze. He gave her a wan smile which she returned and gave him a nod.

    “Alright, let’s do it as you say,” Alise said, taking four bags filled with jerky.

    Alise hurried to the back door of the warehouse. Three carriages waited there, all of them used for passengers. Inside the carriages were Sura Clan members, children and their mothers, the elderly and injured. The able-bodied men would ride horses in the forests and ensure the carriages made it to the port without catastrophe.

    Alise handed out the bags of beef jerky and then helped Juya distribute large bottles of water. When everyone was settled, she stepped back as the carriages closed doors and the carriage drivers took control of the reins.

    One of the women leaned out of the carriage window to wave at Alise.

    “Take care, Island Princess,” she said. “Be safe and return to the island soon.”

    Alise lifted her hand in goodbye and watched the last batch of her people leave for the port. It was almost midday. She and her mother had scrambled to get everyone out using secret routes, but some had not gotten the message to escape or dye their hair.

    The Counterfeit Inspectors Unit had captured close to twenty Sura Clan members, along with Yemin, her father, and the ten guards who were left at their manor.

    Lasma had taken her long-time guard to ensure Juya’s grandmother made it out. She still had not arrived at the workshop yet.

    Alise trembled, and her fingers tightened into fists.

    “Your mother will make it,” Juya said when Alise stood in the backyard, not making a move to enter the warehouse.

    ****

    After five hours of travel, Raithion and Azula finally arrived in Genad City. Azula was nervous, unable to sit still.

    “I’ll take the thieves to the Counterfeit Inspectors Unit,” Raithion said. “Along with the order to investigate from the Port Magistrate. From there, we will investigate the thieves and find out where they took the ore. Your clan should be cleared by our findings.”

    Azula gave him a swift nod but did not speak.

    “I’ll leave you to the carriage,” Raithion continued. “I’ll take my horse and Haedor. Your people should have joined us when we entered the city. You can rush to your parents’ manor. Don’t worry so much.”

    “Mm,” Azula said, finally looking at Raithion. “Thank you, General Raith, for everything.”

    “We never got to have that mug of ale together,” Raithion said with a smile as the carriage stopped.

    “No,” Azula said, thinking they had been in too much of a hurry to get to the city to linger at the rest stop. “Maybe we can try after all this is settled?”

    “Then it’s a plan,” Raithion said with a quick smile. He got up from the bench and reached out to pat the top of Azula’s head, rubbing his hair and tugging on the braids in Azula’s hair.

    “How will I find you?” Azula asked.

    “Don’t worry about that,” Raithion said, thinking he would be occupied with the inspectors and then with his father and Basileus Dio. “I’ll find you when I’m done managing everything.”

    “Okay,” Azula said as Raithion opened the carriage door. “See you.”

    Raithion jumped down and gave Azula one last glance.

    “See you, Chieftain’s son.”

    Azula gave him a small smile at the address. It was not as bright as the one from the inn or in the carriage while they played cards, but it was enough to make Raithion want to see it again.

    Raithion lifted his hand in goodbye, then closed the door. He turned to mount the horse Haedor led to his side and ensured Azula’s carriage was well-manned before it continued down the street heading to the Doriel Manor.

    “We should hurry,” Raithion said when he turned and saw the thieves in custody riding on horses with their hands tied between his legion officers. “The faster we conclude this investigation, the easier life will get for the Sura Clan.”

    “Yes, Lord General,” Haedor said, then called out the order to ride to the Counterfeit Inspectors Unit.

    ****

    Azula could barely contain himself when he reached his family’s home. He ran out of the carriage into the usually busy courtyard, only to stop when he found the place empty and the paths into their manor stained with dark blood.

    “Azula,” Sennin came running behind him, gripping Azula’s left arm when he would have hurried into the house. “There is news from our network. Something happened to Chief Marius. Everyone is running out of the city as fast as they can. Your sister told everyone to dye their hair black.”

    “What?” Azula tried to get away from Sennin to enter their house, but Sennin gripped his left arm and dragged him toward the kitchen. “I need to check the house.”

    “We need to follow your sister’s instructions. Disguise ourselves first before looking for what happened,” Sennin said, winning the struggle.

    The kitchen, usually had over twenty people working at any given time, was empty. Dishes were in disarray, and vegetables were trampled on the floor. Azula felt a pang of fear cut through his chest.

    “Something’s terribly wrong,” Azula said.

    “I know, let’s change the color of your hair first,” Sennin said, hurrying into the pantry. He returned with a pot filled with finely ground charcoal. “Looks like someone worked hard to grind charcoal for the change. Let’s get this done, Azula. The faster we finish, the better.”

    Azula fought the urge to scream with frustration and followed Sennin to the sink basins in the corner to change his hair color. His heart was pounding too fast as he wondered what had happened to their family.

    *****

    Raithion led his entourage determined to reach the Counterfeit Inspectors Unit, eager to complete his tasks. However, he never reached the gate to the compound. His father’s guard intercepted their progress, with over twenty soldiers armored and armed. The guard flanked them on all sides.

    “Lord General, Lord Draeya invites you back home,” the head of the guard insisted.

    “I am on official business,” Raithion said. “I have prisoners to turn in.”

    “Lord Draeya invites you back home now,” the head of the guard insisted. “We should go. Please don’t resist, Lord General.”

    Raithion understood that the guard would subdue his legion of officers without effort. It was difficult to fight on the main street in the busy capital. The Head of the Guard knew he had to comply with the request.

    Raithion turned to Haedor, thinking to let him take the prisoners to the inspectors.

    “Everyone goes with us,” the Head of the Guard said.

    Raithion frowned and gave Haedor a nod to do as the guard insisted. They changed directions and headed toward the new Draeya Manor.

    Thanir Maenaer and Basileus Dio were waiting for him when he arrived home. Raithion walked into his father’s study, feeling tired and irritated by the detour. He had wanted to conclude the case of the forged silver coins tonight, so he could have time to find Azula in the next few days.

    “Sit,” Thanir said when Raithion stood in the room, facing the large desk in his father’s study.

    Dio sat in his father’s chair behind the desk while Thanir stood by the windows, staring out into the bright afternoon. His window had a nice view of a rose garden below where Noriel, Hujan Draug, Soriel, and Silveren were having tea while sitting on outdoor chairs under a large umbrella.

    “I prefer to stand,” Raithion said, frowning as he studied Dio’s excited expression. “What’s going on? Why did you stop me from turning prisoners to the counterfeit inspectors?”

    “The case is closed,” Dio said.

    “What have you done?” Raithion’s gaze shifted to Thanir, who glanced at him with a scowl.

    “Not me,” Thanir said. “I’m not always the architect of political schemes.”

    Raithion tightened his grip on his gloves and turned to look at Dio.

    “It wasn’t me either,” Dio said, lifting his hands up. “Blame Lord Gesi Ajai. The court swiftly agreed yesterday to investigate the Sura Clan’s workshops and the Minister of Finance’s offices.”

    “No one has had a peaceful night,” Thanir said. “A purge has left the Minister of Finance dead and the chief of the Sura Clan in prison undergoing intensive torture to give up his accomplices. The Sura people are being captured on the streets like rabid dogs. Some are dead, others have managed to escape. Ajai is leaving no stone unturned to bring justice to the people who had corrupted the kingdom’s money. He attributes his good work to Basileus Dio.”

    Raithion closed his eyes, his thoughts filling with Azula.

    “Any evidence found is fake,” Raithion said. “I captured the ore thieves in the act. I have brought them with me. What happens now?”

    “The guard should have already managed them,” Thanir said, meeting Raithion’s gaze.

    Realizing what his father meant, Raithion started to turn away and head out of his father’s study to stop his father’s crazy plan.

    “There is a much larger plot at play here, Raith,” Thanir said, stopping in his tracks. “Soriel is engaged to Basileus Dio. The Grand Dowager has proposed to your mother, and she accepted.”

    “What?” Raithion looked at his father in shock. “No—

    “It is the only way to protect Basileus Dio’s position,” Thanir said, taking a few steps toward Raithion. “Gesi Ajai wanted his daughter to become the next Basilinna but we cannot let that happen. So, let him have the conclusion he wants to the forged silver coins. His success in closing this case will make him the new finance minister. Meanwhile, we will have thwarted his attempts to enter the palace as a relative.”

    “Dad, you—” Raithion broke off his thoughts filled with Azula’s hopeful gaze. “You’re killing the Sura Clan.”

    “Not all of them,” Dio said. “Theod, my palace guard, has secured one last deal with Lord Gesi Ajai. The Sura Clan’s future will depend on your answer to my next question, Raithion Maenaer.”

    Raithion’s grip on his gloves tightened as he met Dio’s gaze.

    “What question?” Raithion asked, his voice filled with unwillingness, even as he faced the rule of the kingdom.

    “Will you marry Lady Naeri Ajai?” Dio asked. “She will enter the Maenaer House. After your wedding, you will become Commander General of the Kingdom’s forces. Qualified to command all the army forces of this kingdom on my behalf. Your new position will make Lady Ajai a Commandery Princess.”

    Raithion closed his eyes then.

    “What about the Sura Clan?” he asked.

    “Your acceptance of this proposal determines their fate,” Thanir said. “Gesi Ajai will be willing to allow them to leave the capital unhindered, never to return again.”

    “You mean you want them to give up their livelihood,” Raithion said, his words bitter even to his ears. “You’re destroying an innocent clan.”

    “We are saving them,” Thanir answered in a harsh tone. “Your marriage will guarantee their lives. It was the least Basileus Dio could do for them.”

    “The least,” Raithion said, shaking his head, disappointment sinking into his bones. “Who will tell the Sura the truth?”

    “They can’t know,” Dio said, his voice a command and an edict. “Draeya Commandery Prince, Raithion Maenaer. You are forbidden from sharing this conversation with anyone else outside this room. Otherwise, you will ruin the plans that are yet to come.”

    Azula’s face filled his thoughts, and he blinked hard as tears filled Raithion’s eyes at the order.

    “You will never understand what you’ve done…” Raithion said, trailing off. He turned around, and Thanir hurried to grip his left arm.

    “Raith—”

    “Don’t worry, father. I will do what you say,” Raithion said, shrugging his father’s grip on his arm away. “Doesn’t mean I have to like or respect it. Now, I have to go. There is something I need to do.”

    “Raithion,” Dio called in a panic, but Raithion ran out of his father’s study.

    Haedor met him in the front courtyard of the manor.

    “Lord General, the guard has executed all our prisoners,” Haedor said. “I only managed to get Hulan to sign his confession before they cut his head off.”

    “Keep that confession safe,” Raithion ordered. “We need to find Azula and ensure he gets out of the capital city safely. He is not safe.”

    “What’s going on?”

    “Betrayal,” Raithion said, as he ran out of his father’s manor, mounted his horse, and raced toward the Sura Clan’s stronghold.

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 4-3

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    Chapter 4-3

    Azula read the thorough report written by the Port Magistrate with a mix of awe and annoyance. The document was signed and sealed by the magistrate and Draeya General who had made a solemn promise before the magistrate to catch thieves. It legitimized Azula’s need for a legion escort to Genad City.

    Shaking his head, Azula could only admit that the general had skill in dealing with the corrupt.

    Azula turned to look at Draeya General. They stood outside the magistrate’s office. Draeya General’s officers were getting their horses ready. Draeya General stood tall waiting for his officers to get ready. His expression was calm and ready for whatever came next.

    Azula frowned when the general looked at him.

    “What?”

    “What is your name?” Azula asked. “I can’t keep calling you Draeya General.”

    “Why not?”

    “You called me Azula in the magistrate’s office. If you’re going to be helping my clan, we should know your name. Otherwise, my people won’t trust you.”

    Draeya General studied him for a minute, then stepped closer and held out his right hand to Azula. Azula gripped the report from the magistrate in his left hand and took Draeya General’s right hand in greeting.

    “Raithion Maenaer at your service. My close family calls me Raith.”

    Raithion’s handshake was unexpectedly firm. His palm had calluses, convincing Azula that he was not spoiled despite his high station in life. Damn it, so sexy!

    “Can I call you Raith?” Azula asked as he let go of Raithion’s right hand.

    Azula grinned and brought the paper he held to cover his lips.

    “No.”

    “General Maenaer?”

    “That is my father,” Raithion said. “You can call me General Raithion.”

    “General Raith,” Azula said with a happy smile making Raithion scowl. Azula ignored it and stepped closer to Raithion.

    “Let’s go to the dock. My crew is waiting. We can’t delay delivery to Genad. I’m worried something will happen to my family’s workshops if we don’t make it in time.”

    “Why can’t you meet us outside the port town? There is only one road out of the port,” Raithion said, folding his arms against his chest. “We’ll wait for you at the exit.”

    Azula’s frown deepened.

    “No way,” Azula said. “Do you want to stay on the outside, offering protection without understanding what you’re protecting? How can we trust you?”

    Raithion narrowed his gaze as he studied Azula. Then, he seemed to decide as he nodded.

    “Haedor and I will go with you,” Raithion said. “The rest of the legion will wait for us at the port exit heading to Naga State. Azula, having my legion officers crowding your dock station will make everyone nervous. I assume you’re still conducting business as usual. So, Haedor and I meeting your clan members is enough. In any case, you’re right. Visiting your ship will allow me to understand more about your operations and why anyone would come after you.”

    Azula suddenly remembered the people who were following him and Sennin. He had forgotten about those two women when he met Draeya General and was then dragged to the Magistrate’s Office by him. Looking around the busy compound, he wondered if he would catch a glimpse of them.

    “They’re not here,” Raithion said, drawing Azula’s gaze.

    “What?”

    “The two who were following you,” Raithion said. “They retreated when we entered the Magistrate’s Compound. We have not seen them since.”

    “Oh,” Azula frowned. “You saw them too?”

    “They followed you to the inn but stayed away when they saw my legion officers. I’m glad you were aware.”

    “Hm,” Azula shrugged. “A lot of people want to take our ore or tools, sometimes the wares we make. It pays to be vigilant. Then, let me take you to our ship.”

    “Alright,” Raithion started to head to his horse, but Azula shook his head.

    “You don’t need the horse,” Azula said. “We’ll walk, it’s not far.”

    “But—”

    “Come on, General Raith,” Azula said, taking Raithion’s right hand, and started leading him to the open gates. “Also, let Lieutenant Haedor let go of my friend. I need Sennin.”

    ****

    Raithion stared at the spot where Azula held his right hand as they walked along the main street of the Port City. He could not remember the last time someone had held his hand. Azula reminded him of an anxious child. Azula’s steps were energetic as he walked. He gripped the report from the magistrate in his right hand like a trophy. The smile he directed at Raithion in intervals made him want to laugh.

    “You can slow down,” Raithion said when Azula looked on the verge of breaking into a run. “I won’t run away.”

    “Really?” Azula turned to look at him, his grip on Raithion’s right hand still tight. “This is the first time legion officers are helping us with no payment. I’m nervous.”

    “Are you afraid I will run away?” Raithion asked with a chuckle, amused by Azula’s logic.

    Azula stopped in the middle of the street, forcing Raithion to a stop too. Azula stepped in close and then looked up. Suddenly, Raithion met intense hazel eyes. The noise of the street disappeared and they stood in perfect stillness.

    Azula was shorter than him but that did not deter his presence in the moment.

    “The thieves we’re chasing or evading have taken twelve of our people,” Azula said, his voice soft but full of passion. “Twelve families are mourning the loss of a breadwinner in their homes. The pain of this loss hurts us all. So, when you walk into our ship and promise to protect, we’ll take your word seriously. That’s who we are. The Sura takes the promise of protection with solemn belief. If you won’t be able to meet us on the same level, then it will be better if you walk away.”

    Azula let go of Raithion’s right hand and lifted the magistrate’s report.

    “This is nice to have for use later. But it is secondary. Right now, I need to know I can trust you with Sennin’s life, and the lives of the men who are helping me reach Genad City.”

    Raithion held Azula’s determined gaze for a minute, then his lips shifted into a small smile. It had been a long time since he met such a passionate soul. The capital city was full of people wanting to get ahead. Thieves, liars, insincere, and without gratitude, that’s what he dealt with most times. To meet such a passionate individual… was refreshing.

    Raithion took in a deep breath and let it out with a nod. He reached down and took out a dagger he kept in a hidden scabbard in his boot. Holding the smooth handle, he brought it up for Azula to see.

    “Hold it too,” Raithion said, nodding as he held Azula’s gaze.

    Azula broke their gaze to study the dagger he held, then brought his right hand to the dagger. He met Raithion’s gaze again.

    “What are we doing?”

    “Your Sura values your family,” Raithion said. “I’m a soldier first. And my oath is to protect. I will not run away or shirk my duty if you’re under my protection. This is my oath, on my blade, I will protect your people. Do you believe it?”

    Azula held his gaze for a moment longer then tightened his hold on the dagger, his callused fingers gripping Raithion’s right hand.

    “I believe you,” Azula said, then smiled, a startling curve of his lips that left Raithion stunned as Azula let go of his hand and turned away. “Let’s go, General Raith.”

    Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 4-1

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    4-1

    “Sir,” Azula said, facing the magistrate of the Naga Port Town. “I’m here to report a series of thefts.”

    “Yes, you’ve already said that,” the magistrate said, his attention on the bowl of grapes on the desk before him. He sorted them out, one by one, removing skins and piling them on a small saucer.

    Azula frowned at the habit.

    Who peeled grapes?

    The magistrate’s office was a hall with six other desks arranged around the room. Six officers sat at their desks, each one busy. Not with matters of the magistrate’s office. Oh no, that would be too much to ask of this lot.

    One read a book, laughing as he ate peanuts from a bowl on his desk. Another was busy assembling a miniature boat on his desk. Azula would have admired his concentration in a different setting. Three were sleeping. The last one watched him while he chewed on a stick.

    Azula returned his gaze to the rotund man sitting behind the official magistrate’s desk. The magistrate’s face was round and soft, like a fresh bun from the oven. His hair was receding leaving him with an impressive bald spot at the top of his head. His dark brown hair was still held in a ponytail.

    The magistrate’s uniform was a rich purple tunic and a matching jacket decorated with gray embroidery on the sleeves and the collars. A medal of his office was pinned to the lapel of the embroidered jacket.

    Azula could not see more of the magistrate because he sat behind his mammoth desk. He looked overly fascinated with the grapes he was peeling.

    “Sir,” Azula said.

    “Consider the problem reported,” the Magistrate said, picking up the saucer filled with peeled grapes.

    Azula winced when he started eating them in a handful. Grape juice trailed down between the magistrate’s fingers and he wondered how this man kept his office.

    The magistrate smiled wide at Azula.

    “We’ll do our best to catch the thief.”

    “Don’t you want to know what is stolen?’ Azula asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

    Azula looked back at the open doors of the magistrate’s office. Four soldiers guarded the entrance. They each held a spear and wore a sword, ready to defend their magistrate’s office at any sign of trouble.

    “What is stolen?” the Magistrate asked, though he was not interested. He ate another handful of grapes and looked at Azula with a bored expression.

    Azula cursed Draeya General under his breath for the hundredth time. Thirty minutes ago, when he and Sennin finished eating, they got up to leave the table. Azula wanted to return to the ship to start preparations for unloading the carriage. However, the moment they stepped outside, Draeya General’s lieutenant arrested Sennin and asked their legion brothers to hold him.

    Shocked, Azula turned to Draeya General.

    ‘If you want your friend released you will go to the magistrate’s office with me. Report the theft of your ore.’

    Draeya General did not give him an option. He kept walking with eight of his legion officers following him. Haedor, the brute, gripped Azula’s left arm and dragged him away from the inn. Poor Sennin was held by the rest of Draeya General’s legion.

    When they got to the magistrate’s office, Draeya General pushed him to enter alone.

    Azula cursed under his breath. If Draeya General was going to help him, why insist on him reporting to the magistrate? Everyone knew the magistrate did not care to investigate cases that did not benefit him.

    Azula took in a deep breath and prayed for patience.

    “Our Sura Clan’s cargo carriages have been hijacked six times on the road to the Capital City. The thieves have murdered twelve drivers and taken our ore. We seek the government’s help,” Azula said, looking at the Magistrate.

    “That is a sadness,” the Magistrate said with a nod, staring at Azula.

    His expression had not changed. It felt like Azula was reporting that the sun had risen this morning and was now overhead. Azula fought a scowl.

    “And what do you think our magistrate’s office can do to help?”

    “Start looking for the thieves?” Azula suggested.

    “Hm,” the Magistrate said with a nod. “Yes, that is a very good idea. But…”

    Azula frowned when the Magistrate trailed off and glanced at the man chewing on a stick.

    “But what, Hulan?” the Magistrate asked.

    “If the thieves are so vicious as to murder twelve drivers, how can our office of four officers help?”

    “Yes, exactly,” the Magistrate said, smiling at Azula. “It sounds perilous.”

    Azula started counting back from a hundred. His temper would not help him here. There was Sennin to save and he had cargo to offload at the docks, and a journey to Genad City to complete. He could not be arrested here.

    “Will you record the crime?” Azula asked.

    “Oh,” the Magistrate said, with a nod. “Yes. I guess we should note it down somewhere. Don’t worry. We’ll get it down as soon as Siva wakes up. He had a difficult night last night. His wife gave birth to twins and they do not get enough rest in their house anymore. It’s all the crying. I say, babies and wives should live in one residence, while the husband lives in a nice quiet room. But that’s me. What do you think?”

    Azula cursed under his breath, forgetting to count down his temper.

    Clenching his fists, he started to take a step forward, determined to shove the remaining unpeeled grapes into the magistrate’s mouth. The imbecile deserved it, what a horrendous idiot.

    A commotion started before he could reach the magistrate’s desk, and he turned to find Draeya General entering the office with his lieutenant and legion officers. They were fully armed and looked like warmongers.

    Two of the legion officers used their sword handles to hit the desks of the magistrate’s officers, startling them to attention. The sleepy officers fell out of their chairs and stood when they saw legion officers with panic in their eyes.

    Hulan, who had answered the magistrate earlier, stood at attention staring at the ground hoping to go unnoticed.

    Azula frowned.

    Hulan was suspicious. His stance looked confident even as he lowered his head in the presence of Draeya General. His eyes watched Draeya General with intent. A slight smile curved his lips. Azula’s frown deepened, but he had no time to dwell on why.

    The magistrate dropped the plate he held on the floor making a mess of his peeled grapes as he stood up with a gasp. His eyes looked like white balls as they took in Draeya General’s eventful entry.

    Azula frowned at Draeya General who came to stand next to him with casual grace.

    The general wore his formal coat. The black coat with its gold embroidery announced his station and rank. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the magistrate with interest. His legion officers were busy intimidating the surprised magistrate officers on each side of the room.

    “Why did you make me come in here if you were going to follow me?” Azula asked, with annoyance. “Making me report a crime to this idiot before you can help me. Did you want to watch me turn into a fool?”

    “It was interesting watching you try to look humble. Don’t insult yourself by calling yourself a fool, Chieftain’s son,” Draeya General said. “And stop scowling at me. I’m not the one who has pissed you off.”

    “You’re holding my friend hostage.”

    Azula cursed under his breath and turned his scowl to the shocked magistrate.

    “You should breathe, Sir,” Azula reminded the Magistrate. “You may choke on the peeled grapes in your mouth.”

    The magistrate sneered and started to point at him, but the grapes in his mouth choked him and he started to cough.

    Azula laughed.

    “Ha, that’s what you get for treating me like an idiot,” Azula said.

    “Hush,” Draeya General warned next to him and stepped forward.

    The general pushed a goblet of water standing next to a jug on the table to the magistrate. The magistrate took the goblet and drank deeply. When he stopped coughing, he placed his goblet on the table and looked at Draeya General.

    “What is the meaning of this? How can a general walk into the Magistrate’s Office armed and cause a commotion?”

    “I heard there was a problem of thieves terrorizing the citizens. I came running to help out because it is what I should do. What do you think, Magistrate Netan?” Draeya General asked. “I, Draeya General, am responsible for looking out for the small citizen.”

    “Draeya!” Magistrate Netan gasped and straightened to his full height. “Ay, if you told me you were coming we would have met you at the gates into the compound. Why—?”

    “No need for the ceremony,” Draeya General said, lifting his hand to stop the magistrate from coming around his desk. “I’m here to pick up a task from the magistrate. How could I announce myself for you to meet me at the gates? I’m not so insolent.”

    Draeya General turned to look at Azula and winked.

    Azula made a face at him, but the general had already returned his attention to the magistrate.

    Magistrate Netan was busy wiping the table and arranging his chair behind his desk.

    “Draeya General, please,” Magistrate Netan said, holding out his hands to his desk for the general to sit.

    “No. Magistrate Netan should sit,” Draeya General said, holding out his right hand to the chair. “I still need you to write down everything this young man said to you. Otherwise, how can you ask me to help him catch thieves?”

    Magistrate Netan stared at Azula in surprise, he stuttered, frowned at Azula, then nodded with enthusiasm.

    “Right. General is right,” the Magistrate said and sat in the chair with a shaky sigh. “Siva, bring me a paper and a pen. I’ll write down the young man’s statement, and orders to catch the thieves.”

    “You need three copies of the report,” Draeya General said and folded his arms against his chest. “Azula, why don’t you start your statement?”

    Azula was caught between awe and annoyance with how fast Draeya General got the magistrate to work. He wished he had half the power. Their Sura Clan would be far richer he thought with a frown.

    Draeya General touched his right shoulder and he scowled at the man before he stated his grievances, one by one.

    *~*~*~*

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • Crown Prince Yoshi – 2

    The village Telia spoke of was in a deep valley surrounded by the Furian forest.  Yoshi had exchanged horses with her in case someone else recognized Senbon.  When they reached a path leading to a bridge, a girl appeared from the bushes with a black horse following her.

    Telia stopped Senbon and jumped to the dirt road.  Sando looked at him with a raised brow when Telia hurried to hug the girl.  The young girl had short spiky red hair, wore burgundy leggings that disappeared into soft leather boots and a warm red sweater that she tied at the waist with a black belt.

    Telia ruffled the girl’s short locks.  “Your Highness, I apologize for using the title, but I must to make this introduction.  My sister, Hinna, is going to be with us.”

    Yoshi met light-green smiling eyes, “Nice to meet you, Hinna.  I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

    “Is it a good idea to bring a child along?” Sando demanded of Telia.  “We’re in danger here.”

    “Hinna is a Furian,” Telia said as though that was the only explanation needed.  She nodded to Hinna who mounted her horse.  “We’ll follow her; she has found us a place to stay for the night.”

    Yoshi gave Sando a warning glance.

    They followed the two women along the dirt road into the village in the valley.  A cluster of houses filled the bottom of the gorge.  Tiered farming patches made up the land to the tree line.  He wondered if their harvest would last the villagers through the coming winter months.  The first buildings they passed were made of mud with thatched roofs.  Curtains covered the windows.  A girl dressed in a plain rough tunic and pants led an old ox into an adjoining barn.  She waved at them in greeting.  Hinna returned the gesture with a slight smile.

    “We’re staying at her grandmother’s house,” Hinna explained.

    Where he slept didn’t matter anymore.  Yoshi sighed, his thoughts centered on his mother and the assassins.  He glanced at Sando and wondered if his chamberlain could return to the palace unnoticed to tell his mother that he was alive.

    He’d be left alone with Telia…he bit his lip.

    Trust was important right now, and he didn’t know Telia.  She could be part of this treasonous plot.  How many in the palace were involved?  What of the Imperial Army?  If they hadn’t relieved Princess Naria in the north, where had they gone?  Who had the power to control the Imperial army?

    “Yoshi,” Sando called.

    He looked up to find they’d arrived at a modest compound.  The houses were made of mud bricks, the roofs tiled and the entrance was lighted with two lanterns.  An old woman stood there waiting for them.

    Telia, Hinna and Sando dismounted.  He sighed and got off Telia’s horse.  Sando took the reins out of habit.

    “Welcome, I was worried young Hinna got lost.  She told me she’d wait for you in the forest.”  The old woman smiled wide.  “The horses can stay in the barn.  The young serf can take care of them.  I don’t have anyone else working here.”

    Sando started reaching for the reins and the old woman frowned.  She gave Yoshi a hard disapproving glance.

    Yoshi glanced at his clothes and sighed.  He’d forgotten he was still in the clothes he’d borrowed from the serf.  With a pained frown, he bowed and called out to Sando.

    “Master Sando, I’ll take the horses.  Why don’t you go have a rest?”

    Sando froze in his tracks.  Yoshi hid a smile and nodded to the old woman.  Sando handed him the reins while Telia chuckled under her breath.

    “Brush them, check for injuries, and give them water,” Sando murmured.

    He smiled at Sando as he urged the horses toward the barn the woman indicated.  He was keenly aware of Hinna, Telia and Sando watching him as he disappeared into the barn.  An ox stared at him as he got the horses settled in their stalls on one side of the barn.  He found a brush on a worktable in the corner.

    He worked steadily for the next hour, brushing the horses, making sure there were no injuries or swelling joints.  He got fresh hay and water from a pump outside the barn.  It was dark out when he finally settled Senbon.  He stood in the stall petting Senbon’s mane, his thoughts on his mother at the palace.

    He’d be preparing to have dinner with his mother if he were at the palace.  He’d always thought it tedious to dress in the evening for a meal, but now he missed the routine.  Was his mother seated at the dining table worrying for him?

    “That is a magnificent horse,” an appreciative masculine voice interrupted his thoughts.

    He jerked his head up to stare at the tall dark figure standing right outside Senbon’s stall.  His hand moved to his waist, a curse escaped as he realized he didn’t have his sword.

    “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you, serf.”  The stranger shifted at Senbon’s trough.  “Who is your master?  I must compliment him on such a magnificent creature.”

    Yoshi bit his lip and lowered his head reluctantly.  “My master is inside, my lord.”

    “What is your name?”

    “Yoshi,” he said, lowering his head farther in case the man took a closer look.

    “Your parents named you after the Prince.  How ambitious.  They must have wished you well.”

    He didn’t think the statement required a reply.  The man’s voice was deep, thrilling, and mysterious.

    The stranger walked into the stall moving closer to Senbon.  The white stallion shifted, nervous.  Yoshi laid a hand on the stallion’s mane to calm him.  The stranger smiled and reached out to touch Senbon’s mane too.

    “Tell your master to take care; I might want to buy his horse.”

    As if he’d ever allow that, he scoffed with a frown.  He couldn’t stomach the idea of selling Senbon.

    The dark stranger stunk of sweat from days of not bathing.  He lowered his head, hoping to bury his nose into his tunic but the scent assaulted him as the stranger continued to pet Senbon.  His gaze fell on the black leather military boots the man wore.

    He frowned.

    The dark leather was stained with dark mud and splatters of…blood?

    His head came up fast, his frown deepening when he saw the sword sheath.  Red and gold tongues of fire decorated the carefully crafted wood.  The man was from Fier.

    “I came to ask you to look after my horse.  He’s in the next stall.  Be careful, Midnight is spirited.  You have to be gentle with him.”

    Yoshi bit back a groan before he bowed lower.  He froze when a callused hand caressed his jaw.

    “If you do a good job, you could make extra money later tonight.  I’ll look for you after dinner.”

    The hand dropped away and he breathed out in relief.

    The man left the barn in quick strides.  Yoshi straightened up wondering what that meant.

    Make extra money, how? He looked at Senbon.

    “What do you think he means?” he murmured to Senbon.

    Afraid the dark stranger might return, he rushed out and made short work of the large dark stallion.  He left the barn once he finished and was glad to see Sando waiting for him right outside the main house.

    “What took you so long?” Sando asked, a frown dancing on his forehead.

    “A rider from Fier wanted my help.  He also told me he’ll look for me later, if I want to make extra money.”

    Sando gasped and closed his eyes in anguish.  “If she finds out, she’ll have my head.  How dare he ask you such a thing?”

    Yoshi patted Sando’s shoulder.

    “Don’t worry, Sando.  I won’t tell if you don’t.  Besides, I doubt the rider will remember.  He didn’t see my face.”

    Sando scoffed.  “Have you seen your face?  Don’t forget you’re the only serf on the farm.  I need to find a better clothing solution for you.  I asked the old woman to bring food to our room.  There is a bathhouse near the river behind the main house.  I ordered hot water for you.  We must get you a change of clothes.  I won’t have others mistaking you for a serf.”

    “The Fier Officer, did he introduce himself?” Yoshi asked as Sando led him to the bathhouse.

    “He didn’t.” Sando opened the door into the simple large room built with wood.  Warm yellow light from the lanterns on the wall brightened the bathhouse.  “I will go find you new clothes while you bathe.  I’ll ask Telia to talk to the Fier Rider.”

    Sando led him to the middle of the room where a large copper bathtub stood filled with water.

    Yoshi pulled off the serf’s tunic and trousers eager to enter the heated water.  A soft appreciative moan escaped as he sunk into the moderately hot water.

    Sando reached for the turban on Yoshi’s head and removed it, undoing the braid he’d made in the coach earlier in the day.

    Yoshi’s long dark hair tumbled down his back and he sighed as the pressure from the tight braid eased.

    “I’ll be right back.” Sando patted his shoulder gently.  “You have a few minutes to yourself.”

    Yoshi murmured his thanks and ducked his head under the warm water.  The heat soothed his aching muscles.  Small stings on his arms reminded him of the scratches from branches in the forest.  When he couldn’t hold his breath anymore, he sat up wiping water from his eyes with his right palm.  He blinked a few drops out of his eyes and pushed his hair back pushing it to one side to squeeze out the water.

    A gasp filled the room and he turned fast to find the tall man he’d met in the stables standing behind him.  Panic brought him to his feet in the tub, his hair dripping water to the floor as he turned to face the intruder.

    “What are you doing here?”

    “I came to bathe, obviously, you’re no serf.  Why did you let me think you were?”

    Yoshi stared at the tall man, his gaze lingering on a flat defined chest, a washboard stomach.  Silk drawstring trousers tied low on slender hips.  Delicious body, he forced his gaze back to knowing dark eyes.

    “I didn’t let you think anything.  You assumed I was a serf on your own.”

    The man laughed.

    “The fire in your eyes certainly proves your point.  No serf would dare look at me as you do, Yoshi.  Will you tell me who you are?”

    The warm yellow light did nothing to soften the harsh chiseled jaw or the hard dark eyes studying him.   The stranger’s dark hair fell around his shoulders in wild disarray.  A white cloth was thrown over a broad shoulder in preparation for a bath.

    Yoshi found he couldn’t look away from the stranger’s lips delicately framed by a trimmed thin beard.  Hating the attraction, he scowled.

    “I don’t like being at a disadvantage.  Tell me your name, Fier Rider.”

    “How do you know I’m from Fier?”

    “The sheath of your sword, and your boots,” Yoshi said meeting amused dark eyes.

    The man nodded with a small smile, “My name is Midori.”

    Midori came closer and walked around the tub.  Yoshi started to turn with him, but a soft touch on his right shoulder stopped him.  He tensed as that hand pushed strands of his long dark hair over his shoulder.  Callused fingers traced gently over the curve of his neck, skimming down his spine, stopping at the small of his back.  He closed his eyes afraid those exploring fingers would stop.

    A finger caressed the small of his back.  He felt it trace over the jade vine that stopped at the curve of his buttocks.  Midori’s fingers skimmed up his back, drawing the vibrant red phoenix perched on the jade vine on his back.  He’d cried hours when he’d gotten the tattoo.  He’d been ten years old, lying on his stomach while his mother did the tattoo.

    “What does it mean?”  Midori’s fingers circled his neck gently.

    He felt mesmerized by those strong fingers on his skin.

    “It means nothing,” he managed when those exploring fingers rested on his shoulders.

    He shivered when Midori came around to stand in front of him and he decided it was because his bath water was getting cold.

    “Your hair is beautiful.”  Midori got closer, so close he could feel the brush of Midori’s chest against his.  With every breath, he took in Midori’s scent.  He swayed when Midori leaned in to whisper in his left ear.  “I want you.”

    “No.” Yoshi opened his eyes and stared at Midori’s golden skin.  “It’s forbidden.”

    A husky laugh had him tensing.  He looked into dark eyes in surprise when Midori’s hand ran down his stomach and slid lower to capture his hardening erection.

    “Your body doesn’t think so.”

    “Even if my body wants it,” he managed to say conscious of Midori’s heat, that hand stroking him slowly.  He bit his lip to keep from moaning.  “It’s still forbidden.”

    A sword appeared at Midori’s neck.  Midori let go of him slowly and raised his hands.  He turned to find Sando standing a few feet away a bundle of clothes and wooden sandals in one hand, the other holding the sword.

    “Get out of the water, Yoshi,” Sando ordered, his grip steady, the tip of the sword against Midori’s vital vein at his neck.

    “Sando, relax.”  Yoshi got out of the water.

    Sando held out a black robe, he took it and pulled it over his wet body.  Sando dropped the sandals on the floor for him and he jammed his feet into them.

    “You have a body guard?” Midori raised a brow when Sando growled a warning.  “You should have told me I needed permission to touch you, Yoshi.”

    “I warned you, you didn’t listen.”  Yoshi tied the belt on the long robe and smiled.  He gave the taller man a short bow.  “Have a good bath, my lord.”

    “I’ll see you around.”  Midori looked at Sando.  “Take him with you.  I like my privacy.”

    Yoshi left the bathhouse aware that Sando wouldn’t withdraw his sword until he was out of sight.  Sando caught up with him a few minutes later still carrying the bundle of clothing.

    “You have no sense of preservation.”  Sando admonished walking fast.  “I leave you alone for a minute, and you get yourself in trouble.”

    “It’s not my fault.  He came to bathe.  I can’t control what other’s think.  You looked very convincing with that sword.”

    “I was going to chop his head off, but you looked like you wanted his touch.”

    “Did I?”

    Sando led him into their room.  The room was large enough to hold two beds and a small sitting area.  Telia and Hinna sat at the small table talking.  When they saw him, they started to stand but he waved them down.  Sando closed the door behind him.

    “I have news,” Telia said as he sat on one of the beds by the wall.  “The army is headed for Fier.”

    “Are you sure?” Sando frowned dumping his load of clothing on the other bed.  “The Princess is not in Fier.  Who gave you this information?”

    “We have contacts in this village.” Hinna held up a yellow token.  “One of the merchants in the village was paid with this by a sentry.  The army is headed for Fier.”

    Yoshi closed his eyes in disappointment.

    Four Quads made up the Empire of Amana.  The Fier quad was to the north of the Empire.  Fier was vast with rich red soil that came from the volcanic mountains at the heart of the quad.  The Furian forest bordered Fier’s south side.  The Sanori clan had ruled Fier for millennia.  Namik Sanori was the current head of the clan, a son in his mid-twenties was to succeed him.

    Yoshi frowned; he couldn’t remember the name of the son.  His mother was always talking of Namik, it was difficult to remember he’d die one day and another heir would take over.  One thing he did know was that Namik was no friend of Almira Taimeng.  Namik hated the Empress.  Yoshi was sure Namik would love to see him dethroned, to spite Almira.

    “What are you thinking about?” Sando asked him.

    “Two weeks ago, Namik Sanori sent two of his officials to request the Empress’s presence in Fier.  He claimed concern of high tensions between the rebels and his soldiers.  He claimed the rebels were attacking the small villages surrounding Fier.  Namik suggested making a peace agreement with the rebels.  The Empress promised to make the trip in order to show stability to the people.”

    Yoshi looked at Sando, a frown dancing on his forehead.

    “It could have been a trap,” Telia said shifting in her seat to look at him.  “They must have known the Empress wouldn’t make it and would have to send you.”

    “What does Namik hope to gain from having my cousin on the throne?” Yoshi asked.  “If the Imperial Army is heading to Fier, Namik will be unstoppable.  He’ll raid all the lands around him, including the Furian forest and move on to the capital city.  He’ll destroy, leaving nothing to rule over.”

    Telia stood up and started pacing the length of the room.  “We have to find a way to make sure the army doesn’t get to Fier.”

    “The Chief General does not deviate from the orders given by the Imperial Diet.” Sando turned to Yoshi, “unless an order comes directly from a Prince or the Empress.”

    “No one can know he’s alive until we understand the situation.”  Telia protested shaking her head.  “It is better to let the army go to Fier.  We can head west.  We need allies, Your Highness, people loyal to the House of Taimeng.”

    “We can’t allow the army to reach Fier,” Yoshi said shaking his head.  He couldn’t imagine what Namik would do with the power of the Imperial Army.  “That‘s too much power.  The Princess Naria can’t handle three times the enemy no matter how good she is.”

    “She can handle herself.” Telia responded her eyes flashing a bright red that had Hinna running to her side.

    The Furian temper was always so close.  He watched her reign it under control a bit unnerved by her outburst.

    “We head to Earith in the morning,” Telia said, her tone rough.  “We need to start creating an army of our own.  If Earith’s army joins forces with the Princess Naria, we’ll be able to fight against Fier.”

    Yoshi narrowed his gaze, noting the moment Telia regained control.  “Very well, Earith’s army will help me save my mother.”

    “You must consider the possibility that your mother might already…” Telia stopped when he jumped off the bed his eyes blazing with anger.  She bowed her head quickly.  “Forgive me, Your Highness.  I pray for the Empress’s good health.  Please have a good night.”

    She and Hinna hurried out of the room and he was left standing with his fists clenched tight.  He had to believe his mother was alive.  He had no choice.

    ***

    Amana Palace

    Almira Taimeng ran a long finger over the delicate clear bowl, her gaze fixed on the golden tips on her fingers.  Her head hurt, the flower pins stuck into her hair felt tight.  The richly embroidered yellow robes felt hot, she wished she could rip them off.

    Yoshi would have teased her about her ceremonial clothing by now.  He hated formality always chafing against the palace rules.

    She pushed the bowl away, refusing to sip the water her chamberlain had poured for her.  Yoshi, she fought to keep a calm facade.  The room had eyes in the walls, watching, always watching.

    “Your Majesty,” a taunting tone said into the large dining hall.  “You must eat your dinner.  You must look after your health.”

    She held her tongue refusing to look at the man standing at the other end of the table.  It was difficult to think of him as her cousin.  She’d spent most of her fifty years searching for something to love insider her younger cousin.

    Her parents had been sage rulers of the Amana Empire.  As such, she’d gained the birthright to rule the Empire the moment she’d taken her first breath.  She was an only child and had spent her youth training to be the Empress.

    Her cousin however, she studied her dinner plate; he’d always chafed against their different statuses.  Tailen wanted the chance to take the crown from her, to the point of urging the Imperial Diet to change the rules so that only a man could inherit the throne.  Being an only child, had that rule passed, he’d have been next in-line for the throne.  The bill had fallen through but it was the first time she’d truly realized how much Tailen Meng hated her.  She should have known her cousin’s jealousies would only deepen with the years.

    She considered Tailen Meng evil.  It was a sad thing to think about a member of her family, but he’d committed too many atrocities in the past forty years for her to forgive him.  He enjoyed torturing people especially if he knew she would get hurt in the process.  Lately, his agenda to gain power had intensified and she now worried for her son’s safety.  He was unable to remove her from power but assassinating Yoshi would give him power by birthright.  The Imperial Diet’s rules stated Tailen’s son was next in line after Yoshi.  She fought her shudder.  Why hadn’t she forced Yoshi to get married sooner?  He’d have an heir to take his place….

    “Your Majesty,” Tailen said.

    She sat back in the large chair slowly and feigned indifference.

    “What brings you to my palace, Tailen?” she asked deliberately leaving out his title.  He hated it when she did that.  She noted the wince on his face immediately.  “Don’t you have a house of your own?”

    Tailen gave her a mock bow.  “I have news, Your Majesty.  There is a terrible rumor in Lexin city.  The Court Ministers won’t share it with you until they have proof, but I think you should know.”

    “Do share, dear cousin.  What is this rumor that I must hear?”

    “The Prince Yoshi is dead.”  Tailen gloated as he declared his news.

    Almira ruthlessly controlled her panic.  She held on to her calm façade not moving a single muscle.  Tailen never gloated without proof.  She wondered if her plan had failed.

    “Prince Tailen, thank you for your consideration.”

    “This is such a tragedy, isn’t it?” Tailen paced along the dining table coming toward her slowly.  “You were just about to formally declare him the successor to your throne.  Such a young age to die, twenty-one, perhaps you should have done it sooner.”

    She gritted her teeth and stiffened every muscle to keep from scratching his eyes out.  How dare he come to gloat?  Yoshi was alive.  Tailen stopped right before her and gave her another mocking bow.

    “I promise to be at your side, Your Majesty, through this difficult time.”

    “We shall remember your offer, Prince Tailen,” she said with a small dismissive nod.

    He scowled when she didn’t give him a larger reaction.  His gaze narrowed on her and then he turned and left without a backward glance.

    She watched him leave the dining hall.  Once the doors closed, she waited a few minutes before she stood up and left the hall through discrete doors behind her chair.  She headed to the inner palace, her only current sanctuary.  She’d needed to be at the dining hall for appearances.  Guards stood in intervals along the corridors; she schooled her steps, fighting the urge to run to her rooms.

    She entered her suite and waited until the doors closed before she allowed the trembling.  She held on to a flower stand and closed her eyes.

    Yoshi, she mourned.

    A soft knock on her door had her taking a deep harsh breath.  She moved around the flower stand to a bench and sat down.

    “Enter,” she ordered, her voice strong.

    The doors opened and her two trusted confidants entered her suite.   She braced for the truth.  They closed the doors and came to stand before her.  Zia Sayu and Tai Migi were twins she’d saved from a raided farm in the South of the Empire.

    She’d brought them back to the palace and raised them along her son as royal guards.  These past three years, the twins had become her most trusted servants.

    “Tell me,” she ordered, her gaze fixed on Zia Sayu.

    Zia kept her hair in a tight bun on top of her head.  Her dark clothing hid her figure and the double swords she preferred.

    “He is safe for now,” Zia said, her tone low, wary of eavesdroppers.  “The Furian found him on time but there is a complication.”

    “Complication,” Almira frowned.  “If they don’t have him, they can’t force me to choose that stupid brat.  They must have proof to convince the Imperial Diet and the people.”

    “They have a body dressed in The Prince’s travel clothing and a ring.” Tai bowed lower.  “It is my fault.  I should have gotten to the carriage sooner.”

    “What do you mean?”  Her cousin’s excitement made sense.  If he had a body, gotten from the Prince’s carriage—

    She got to her feet.  “The moment I declare that body is not Yoshi they will send more assassins after him.  Prince Tailen wants his son, Saki Meng, on the throne.  He has planned for this.  I have no choice but to announce the death of my son in order to protect him.”

    “Then we must get the Prince back to the palace.”  Zia consoled her.  “Let us go and get him.”

    “He is safer out there.  If he returns to the palace, it will be easier for them to kill him.  We have spent the past month protecting him from assassins.  Opposition has strong allies in this palace and with the Imperial Diet.  I can’t watch my son poisoned.”  Almira stopped pacing.  “He must remain out of the palace until I find a solution.  I need to clean out the Imperial Diet.  I need to remove the ones Tailen has corrupted.”

    “Give us your orders,” Tai asked.

    She paced the length of the bench.

    The Princess Naria was fighting rebels to the North of the Furian forest.  Her son was lost in the Furian forest.  She suspected the Imperial Army was under her cousin’s command.  The way they’d left…she frowned.  She didn’t like it.  The House of Meng was controlling the Imperial Diet.  Tailen was pushing her into a corner, he wanted her to roll over and allow his son to inherit the throne.

    She hurried to a writing table a few feet away and pulled out a small box from a drawer.  She poured wax from a red candle on to blank rice paper and rolled it.  She tied the paper with a red ribbon from her desk, took the ring and walked back to Zia.

    “Take this to Terra in the south.”  She handed Zia the rolled letter and slipped the ring deftly into Zia’s palm.  She met Zia’s gaze.  “Be safe.”

    Almira turned to Tai.  “Find the Phoenix.  Guard him until he returns to the palace.”

    “What about you, Your Majesty?” Tai asked worried.

    “I have Sayuri.  I will be fine.  The Phoenix is more important, bring him back to me.”

    ****

    ←Chapter 1

    yoshi2

  • Five Favorites about the Assassin

    May is swinging by to the end and I am delighted to discuss one of Sui’s upcoming e-books.  The Assassin is not yet available as an e-book, although if you search it out, you can find it to read on GA.  I’ve had the privilege of reading this story, so here is a list of my favorites about The Assassin.

    1. I’m in love with Kian Raja – He is dangerous, handsome, and makes my heart ache I'm Your Assassinas he does not believe he deserves anything good that happens to him.  He loves strawberry milkshake, coffee and a certain man with locks.  He is breathtaking.
    2. Daven Noland is a doctor who has gone to the darkest depths in strange corners of the world and come back braver.  One of Kian’s friends calls him a man with a bleeding heart.  I love how he loves, without any reservations and that’s the best thing you can hope for in life.
    3. The Assassin sweeps you across the globe, city to incredible city.  Daven and Kian’s time in Amsterdam remains my most favorite as it is both beautiful and heartbreaking, which is all I look for in a story.
    4. The Action! Kian is badass.  If I was in trouble, and needed a rescue, he would be the guy I would seek out.  Of course, you have to make him care about you first to get him to move a finger, but once you do, he will take a bullet for you.
    5. Diversity – Sui does an incredible job of mixing cultures in her stories, but with The Assassin, she’s gone ahead and created such a great cast of characters.  I love multi-culture stories, and the great melting pot they create.  It paints a world that is fundamentally about accepting who people love, and not where people are from, or what they are.  The Assassin does that without much thought.

    Sui is at hard work editing The Assassin.  It should be available to download on Smashwords in June.  Meanwhile, enjoy this cover, and a great Daven and Kian scene.

    The Assassinexcerpt from The Assassin

    Daven cleaned Kian’s wound, concentrating on removing dirt from the raw skin to prevent infection.  He used warm cotton balls, at times forced to scrub at stubborn bits.  Kian made no sound through the process: no groan, no wince, and no sense of discomfort.  Daven stared at the pile of dirty cotton balls on the napkin on the sink.  By now, any patient would have cursed him out, or cried out for him to end the torture.

    That level of control should have disturbed him.  Instead, it reminded him of Musimbi.  The young man he met in Dadaab.  Musimbi was fearless, immune to pain, his heart hardened by a lifetime of hardship and political wars.  Daven first met Musimbi on a field trip on the outskirts of the camp.  The first vehicle in the security convoy went up in a bomb explosion and despite protests from the security officers in his vehicle, Daven jumped out and rushed to help any survivors.

    Musimbi appeared out of nowhere, clutching a young woman with blood trailing down her face.  ‘Help her’, Musimbi told him, his voice bereft of emotion.  Daven remembered wondering who the woman was to Musimbi.  He should have seen through Musimbi in that moment.  Seen the cruelty behind those eyes, instead, Daven only saw the wounded woman.

    Daven sighed and applied ointment on Kian’s bruised skin.  Placing clean pads over the wound, he taped them into place with care.

    “We’ll need to keep checking on it,” Daven said.  “Taking a shower will sting, but you don’t have to worry about that for the next few hours.”

    Daven smoothed his palm over Kian’s shoulder.

    “Thank you,” Kian said, bending to pick up his t-shirt.  He wore it in one swift shrug and remained seated on the toilet seat.

    Daven washed his hands and disposed off the dirty cotton balls, wrapping them with napkins and throwing them in the trash.  He closed the first aid box, and stared at Kian’s bent head.  Kian’s silky straight black hair called to his fingers.

    Daven frowned.

    “I want to trust you,” Daven stated.

    Kian remained silent.

    “You confuse me,” Daven continued, leaning on the little sink.  “One minute you’re pointing guns at me, pulling the trigger, the next you save me.  You get hurt in the name of protecting my profession.  I can’t read you, Kian.”

    “You’re not meant to.  I’m well trained, that’s all you should care about.  Keeping you functional is a plus for me.  Any minute wasted worrying about your health, be they your hands or other injuries, delays us.  It makes handling you difficult.”

    “Handling me?” Daven frowned at the sting growing in his heart.  “I’m not a sack of potatoes—

    “You are a target, one I need to keep moving.”

    Kian got up from the toilet seat.

    The space between them disappeared, and Daven met startling brown eyes.

    “Trust is not easy,” Kian said.  “Still, I only tell you the truth.  There is nothing to read with me, Daven.  It will benefit you to think of me as walking armor to get you to your destination.”

    Kian opened the bathroom door.

    “Try and sleep,” Kian advised.  “Who knows what we’ll meet in Europe.”

    Daven stared at the open door.  Kian’s little tirade stinging more than he dared confess.  Here he was, trying to connect.

    What the hell?

    Handling, Daven scoffed.  As if!

    Enjoy your May!

    Keep Reading!

    love Moon

  • Falling in love with Reading

    In a quiet, mundane moment this past week, I fell in love with reading, again.  You might find that statement strange coming from a writer, but it is true.  I was reading before, of course I was reading…books, stories, newspapers, magazines, and it all filled me up as good content often does.  But, what I’m referring to here is that falling into another world, peaceful and absolutely liberating feeling of holding a book and only finally looking up when the there are five pages left.  I look at the time, and the day has disappeared, and I don’t feel bad about it because the book in my hand made it all worth it.  In fact, I wanted to go back to the moment right before I cracked the spine and fall in again.  I didn’t want to finish the last five pages because it meant that I would have to give up the moment, merge back to the present.  Then I thought, all I need to do is find another book.

    I had forgotten this feeling.  Lost it between endless work-related meetings, obligations and commitments.  It is hard to lose yourself in a book when clients are calling your phone, constantly seeking your attention, reports are waiting on the desk, and everyone has a problem waiting for you to solve. I love the challenge the day job provides, and at times I absolutely find solace in it, but it has also taken away from some simple things like reading.

    Perhaps it was the book I was reading…I can’t quite express it.  Whatever it was, I fell in love again with reading.  The bug bit me so hard, I ran back to the bookstore and I now have a pile of books by my bedside table waiting for me.   The excitement of it makes me high.

    I’m currently deep in the grip of Maggie Steifvater’s The Raven Cycle, where kisses might mean the end.

    Gansey, Blue, Ronan and Adam are an absolute delight. 

    Over at the Daily Post, I found this quote:

    Writer Rebecca Solnit on stories:“Stories are compasses and architecture; we navigate by them, we build our sanctuaries and our prisons out of them, and to be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of a world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra or sea ice.”

    I feel as though it might describe a bit of me before this rediscovery of reading.  While the writing part of my life is essential, absolutely needed that it can keep me up at night.  But the reading part too, the reading is essential.  Stories can truly liberate you in a way you can’t define.