Exile (2 page)

Chozai nodded, agreeing with the unspoken need for more privacy, and two of his warriors moved up closer behind him. Adran and Ian came forward from either side of the dais to flank Yiloch. It was a given that they would attend him, as it was apparently a given for the two lead warriors of Chozai’s retinue to accompany him. Suac Chozai stepped aside to let Yiloch walk ahead of him, more out of a lack of trust, he suspected, than any show of deference to his rank within the realm. The suacs of Kudan were, among their own people, considered above the rule of men. Knowing that, Chozai’s curt manner wasn’t surprising, but it still galled.

Yiloch led them to a door off the side of the main room. The usher hurried ahead of them, opening the doors into a room covered in maps. Maps hung on the walls and covered the surface of every table. Old maps, new maps, maps of places he knew as well as he knew his own bedroom, and maps of places he wasn’t certain even existed. There were few chairs in the room, pushed against walls to give the option of comfort if so desired, but the room served primarily as a place to peruse maps and plan strategies.

Adran and Ian flanked him as he walked around the back of one table with a map of Kudan stretched across it, then they moved off to the side where they could keep watch over him and his visitors and still be close enough to intercept an attack.

The map they stood over was a rare, beautifully detailed piece. Yiloch’s father, the late Emperor Rylan, obtained it from a Kudaness sea captain before Yiloch was born. The tribal borders within Kudan had changed since its creation, as they often did, but it still gave a reasonable approximation of reality and he appreciated the artistry of it.

Suac Chozai approached the opposite side of the table while the usher shut them into the room. He glanced once at the map, his gaze impassive.

Yiloch considered the situation for a long moment. He had noticed Lord Terral’s unease when the suac mentioned betrayal. It might merely be a show of discomfort with the suac’s strange display, but Terral was one of very few left in his empire who could claim to be family. If there were any truth to the suac’s prophecy, Terral would be a prime suspect, a possibility that prompted the move to a more private setting. If there were guilt behind Terral’s unease, then perhaps the desire to know what occurred behind these doors would drive him to carelessness.

“From your words, Suac Chozai, I gather you believe the Murak may fall before this savage power if I refuse to send aid.” Yiloch kept his eyes upon the map to avoid showing too much interest in the answer. The suac expected no more courtesy than he gave when dealing with heathens from outside his lands. Yiloch was inclined to meet his expectations.

“You understand correctly. If our fates were not intertwined, I would not be here.”

Yiloch’s gaze snapped up, boring into the Murak priest. “Then tell me, who will betray me?”

Suac Chozai reached a tattooed arm across the table and touched Yiloch’s chest. One finger, tipped with a thick cracked nail, came to rest upon the ring that lay hidden under Yiloch’s shirt, pressing it against his skin. “Your greatest downfall shall come from here,” he stated with conviction.

Defensive rage, wild and unreasoning, blazed to life in Yiloch. He wanted to tear the man’s hand off. To leap across the table and strike him down. Chozai drew back from him, apparently alarmed by the change in his bearing. The ring, Indigo’s ring, burned against his skin for a few seconds, blazing with the intensity of emotion symbolized by that delicate band. Every second he had spent with her, all of the sacrifices she had made and risks she had taken for him, rushed to the forefront of his mind. His ascard ability flared up, taking on a life of its own so that he had to fight back control.

Ian, with his extreme sensitivity to ascard in others, tensed, his eyes growing wide.

“All this talk of foresight,” Yiloch snarled, fury driving the words past his lips. “I saw that display out there. I thought the Kudaness considered it sacrilege to use ascard.”

He attacked their religion, seeking to repay some of the turmoil that the suac’s accusation caused him. It worked. Suac Chozai’s copper eyes flashed and his two warriors stepped into a wider stance, shifting their weapons out of ceremonial position to something far more threatening. Adran’s hand dropped to his sword hilt and he too moved into a more aggressive posture.

Yiloch felt calm washing over and through him then. He glanced at Ian, whose pale eyes had taken on a certain inward facing intensity. The manipulation was unsolicited and unwanted, but not necessarily unwise.

Chozai followed his gaze, reading something different into the glance. He motioned to his warriors who returned to their prior stance. The suac wasn’t fool enough to pit his men against the power of a creator, and Ian’s exceptional strength with ascard had become well known in the time since Yiloch took the city from his father. Ironically, several of the acts that earned Ian the respect he now held were Indigo’s accomplishments in truth, but allowing Ian to take credit for them increased his influence and allowed her to keep her power hidden. It also made the youth into an effective political asset.

“My visions are not obtained through manipulation of the power of the gods. They are gifted to me,” he turned a sneer on Ian, not so wary of that power that he wasn’t willing too express his disdain, “not stolen.”

The tightness in his tone exposed the depth of his anger. Yiloch felt a hint of satisfaction at accomplishing his goal. If the suac, as representative of the Murak un Ani, had no more respect to offer him, the tenuous relationship between their people was not apt to change anytime soon, certainly not for the better.

“Suac Chozai, I need more to build a military alliance on than prophecy and brash accusations. I have an empire to fortify that Emperor Rylan made a fair effort at destroying the foundations of and a dangerous criminal to bring to justice. There are also some lords who have not yet pledged loyalty and I need my army at hand until they are brought to heel, preferably with as little bloodshed as possible. There is still much to be done to secure my rule. If you can offer me no greater proof of your need, or of my own, if you cannot even offer respect to my rank, then I think we are done here. You are welcome to return and present your case again if these things change. For now, I can offer you refreshment and rest if you so desire, but nothing more.”

Suac Chozai’s expression darkened, growing more and more hostile while he spoke. Yiloch felt a touch of unease at disregarding the man’s foresights and confidence in their accuracy, but, as Emperor, he couldn’t allow any man to disrespect him. Gambling resources on such uncertain information might also make his subjects wonder if he shared the madness that his father suffered from in the end.

Chozai’s lip lifted in an animalistic snarl, exposing one sharpened canine. “You will destroy yourself and your empire with your arrogance,” he stated.

“The same way you will destroy your people if your visions read true,” Yiloch returned. “You have not offered me enough sound information to work with. As I said, come to me with more and I will reconsider my position.”

The suac narrowed his eyes and gave a curt nod. “So it shall be.”

He turned away from Yiloch and his warriors fell in behind him. Yiloch watched Suac Chozai let himself from the room, making no move to follow them. The suac hadn’t stood on ceremony, nor had he behaved in a manner that acknowledged Lyran custom. As such, it seemed appropriate to let him show himself out. The usher would see to him from there.

Yiloch turned to Ian when the door shut again. “The foretelling he did, where did he draw his power from?”

Ian stared at the door, lips pressed in a troubled line. After a few seconds, he looked at Yiloch and shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t sense him connecting to his inner aspect or drawing on ascard around him, and he wasn’t masking anything that I could tell.”

Yiloch nodded and turned to gaze at the closed door. Silence reigned within the room. Several minutes passed before Adran coughed and Yiloch met his worried amber eyes. His slightly darker skin and dusty blond hair betrayed his impure blood, but he was a lifetime friend and advisor. Lineage carried little weight before the value of the trust that existed between them.

“The suac didn’t look pleased,” Adran commented, his tone conveying a suggestion of displeasure with the way Yiloch handled the situation.

Yiloch nodded once, dismissing the underlying message. “I’ve been thinking, Adran,” he began, walking around the table and stepping up to another map. This one depicted the allied kingdom of Caithin across the Gilded Straight. “We need healers in our army. Not borrowed healers, but our own formally trained healers.”

Adran walked to the other side of the table and rested his hands on it. His fingers tapped the surface a few times, the only outward show of his annoyance with the change of subject. “We could ask King Jerrin for an instructor, though it might be of more benefit to see if we could send some of our adepts to train at their academy.”

Yiloch touched the city of Demin with one finger, trying to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought of her there. “Discuss it with Ferin and see what he thinks of sending adepts to Caithin for training. Ask him how many he would send and who, then prepare a missive to King Jerrin and bring it to me.”

“My lord,” Adran inclined his head, the concern in his eyes taking on a more personal nature.

Yiloch looked away. They had been friends and more far too long for him to expect Adran to miss the distress that hid behind his carefully managed expression, well concealed from anyone else, but he had no wish to discuss it until his head was clearer. Besides, there were far more urgent matters to worry about. “Any news of Myac?’

“Not yet.”

He nodded, hiding the chill of dread that always came with thoughts of the dangerous adept who had almost killed Indigo. “You may both go.”

The two men left him to himself in the map room, Adran lingering in the doorway a few seconds before moving on. When the door shut, Yiloch reached down the collar of his shirt and drew out the ring that hung there. Two clear stones nestled in a delicate band on either side of a large stone the color of her eyes, the color of her name.

“Indigo,” he murmured, letting the name roll off his lips like a caress.

Holding the ring, he closed his eyes and let every touch they had shared, every kiss and intimate moment, play back in his mind. Extraordinary power filled her, hidden beneath a gentle beauty and charming vulnerability. She helped him take the throne from his father, using her uncommonly strong ascard connection to assist him to the point that it had almost cost her life more than once. She offered him her all because she loved him and, even though his motives for using her power had been somewhat selfish in the beginning, he couldn’t help reciprocating her love by the end. Still, she was Caithin, and the exalted pure blood of Lyran royalty was part of its power. He could not ask her to be his bride, not without losing the faith of his people, and she had her own battles to fight, so she returned to Caithin, leaving him with only the ring and a deep aching in his chest.

No. Betrayal couldn’t come from Indigo. How could she turn against him after what they had gone through together? His trust in her made him suspicious of everything the suac said after he implicated her. Still, as he played the ring about in his fingers, a deep disquiet took root in his heart that hadn’t been there before.

CHAPTER TWO

Indigo ran the thumb of her left hand along the barren spot on her ring finger and gazed out the window of her new residence at people passing in the street below. There was comfort in knowing that they couldn’t see her. Comfort, but also sorrow that she had felt it necessary to work ascard into the glass so her windows would always appear empty from the outside. Jayce would never see her standing there, though she had seen him a few times. Even Andrea didn’t know where she was living now and Indigo was inclined to keep it that way. As much as she missed her friend, Andrea’s friendship with Jayce made Indigo nervous about interacting with her. For all that she appreciated her new sanctuary, watching people going about their lives with no thought to the things that troubled her left her feeling more isolated than ever.

The light of dawn was spilling over Demin. Across the Gilded Straight, the sun would be starting to rise in Yiroth, its light dancing through the magnificent created crystal ceiling of the palace throne room. Was Yiloch there watching it from his throne? Did he think about her or did his new role as emperor demand so much of him that she no longer crossed his mind?

Her gaze lifted to the brightening sky. Who else was watching that sunrise? Was Myac somewhere, his wounds healed, watching the coming of day and plotting his revenge?

No. She wouldn’t think of him right now.

She released a long exhale and closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Yiloch’s fingers on her skin and the taste of his lips, letting those memories chase Myac away. If only…

“Are you sure your differences can’t be worked out?”

Drawn from her reverie, she glanced around at her uncle, Lord Theron, where he sat in a plush chair, sipping at a goblet of wine. This was his first visit to the city since her return from Lyra. Recently trimmed dark hair hung, neatly arranged, around his handsome features. His dark eyes peered at her with a casual impatience that managed somehow to convey displeasure with the situation without disrupting his relaxed demeanor. Propriety was everything to him, she knew, but he wouldn’t force her hand, even though, as her guardian, he had the right to. The scandalous death of her parents left her in his care, but he always claimed to enjoy the responsibility, despite her often-unconventional choices and behaviors. This particular decision, the dissolution of her engagement, caused him considerable consternation, but he never let his inner turmoil show on that smooth surface. She admired his self-control.

“I am sorry, Uncle, but this was the only way. Lord Jayce was becoming dangerously violent. Lord Caplin told you what he was like the day I left with the healers bound for Lyra. I tremble to imagine what he might have done if Caplin and his men hadn’t been there to help me move out of the residence.”