Sea of Shadows (26 page)

Fifty-one

T
he Seeker—Ellyn—came first, walking with a warrior’s haughty stride, despite her age. The Keeper—Thea—followed behind, her hands folded in front of her. It was said that when a Keeper and Seeker were chosen, the beasts determined which would be which. Then the babies were quickly given bracelets. Moria was convinced that some early nursemaid had switched Thea’s and Ellyn’s bracelets.

Even their beasts didn’t seem as bonded to them as Tova and Daigo. When Ashyn was little, she’d say it was because Thea and Ellyn hadn’t named their beasts. They were simply the Hound and the Wildcat. That was, however, the tradition. It was their father who had let the girls break it—one of his small, quiet rebellions.

“Moria,” Ellyn said as she strode through the gate. “What is the meaning of this, summoning us?”

“She didn’t,” Ashyn said softly. “I did.”

The old Seeker turned a disdainful look on her student. “Don’t take the blame for your sister, Ashyn. I know which of you is the impetuous one.” She turned to Moria. “And the disrespectful one.”

“I’m sure Moria meant no disrespect, sister,” Thea said as she caught up.

“No, she didn’t,” Ellyn said. “She’s simply thoughtless. As demonstrated by coming here, knowing the danger it puts our city in, having two Keepers and two Seekers.”

“We haven’t even passed our seventeenth summer,” Moria said. “Our combined powers should barely add to one of yours.” She paused. “Unless you’re concerned that we’re more powerful than we ought to be. Or that you’re weaker.”

Ashyn elbowed her to silence. “We’ve had a long journey. My sister is tired and even more impatient than usual. However, we bring an urgent missive—”

“Which you will give to us. Then you will leave the city.”

Moria stepped up to the old woman. “Edgewood is gone. Our village has been massacred by shadow stalkers—”

“Shadow stalkers?” Ellyn laughed. “Your village was massacred by figments of your imagination?”

Moria gripped her blade, and it took everything in her not to draw it. “No, my
father
was killed by
shadow stalkers
, as Ashyn and Gavril will attest—”

“Your sister and a traitor’s son? Those are your witnesses?”

“My witnesses are the dead of Edgewood. My father and the governor and the commander—”

“This will be investigated. In the meantime, you shall not—”

“I will pass!” Moria roared, Daigo snarling beside her. “My village is gone and its children are held prisoner, and you will let me pass, old woman, or I swear by my ancestors—”

Thea drew her blade, lunging forward, still spry for her age.

Gavril stepped between them. “This is unreasonable. They ask only to see the emperor. It is their right to do so. If you will allow us to explain . . .”

“Yes, ladies,” said a voice behind the women. “Please let them explain.”

It was the young prince, Tyrus. He’d sheathed his sword and was walking toward them from the palace gardens.

He looked—as she would have expected from the emperor’s son—empire-born. Of course, they were all born in the empire, but the term was used to denote those who came from the original kingdom that had eventually conquered the surrounding lands and formed the empire. His skin was the color of golden sand, his hair straight and black, his cheekbones high, and his dark eyes slightly tilted. It was, within the empire, considered the highest standard of beauty—a standard, Moria suspected, set by those who ruled it. She was not herself given to preferring any regional “look” over another, but even she would admit the boy was very well formed from face to physique, and she allowed her gaze to linger as he approached.

“Hello, Gavril,” he said with a genuine smile. “It’s good to see you back.”

Gavril managed a stiff bow. In turn, Tyrus bowed to Ashyn and Moria.

“The Keeper and Seeker of Edgewood, I presume. I’m Tyrus Tatsu. Welcome to the imperial city.”

“This does not concern you, your highness,” Ellyn said. “It is a spiritual matter.”

“Oh?” He stopped before them. “It sounded like a martial matter from where I was standing. Do you always discuss the spirits with shouts and drawn blades?”

“Your highness—” Thea began.

“Have the young Keeper and Seeker come for guidance? Additional training?”

“No, your highness,” Ashyn said. “We bear a message for your imperial father. One that we have been instructed to deliver to his hand.”

“Oh?” He gave a feigned look of confusion for the old women. “That does not seem like a spiritual matter at all.”

“The spiritual matter is that they ought not to be in this city. Two Keepers and two Seekers ought not to occupy the same location.”

Again he faked confusion. “But it’s been done, hasn’t it? I seem to recall that one of the traveling pairs visited court last summer.”

Moria bit her cheek as Ellyn’s face darkened. Challenges and arguments posed as innocent questions were not Moria’s style, but she could see the advantage of the strategy. There was no way the old Seeker could argue without seeming rude, particularly when the one asking was an imperial prince.

“Your highness,” Ashyn said to Tyrus. “If we could explain the situation—”

“There is no need to bother the young prince—”

“The village of Edgewood is no more,” Moria said. “The people of Edgewood are dead, massacred. The children were spared, but if we do not get this missive to the emperor, their lives are forfeit, as are the lives of every villager in Fairview.”

Silence. Tyrus stared at her, stunned. “Your entire village . . .”

“Yes, your highness. Every man and woman. Now mercenaries hold the children in Fairview, under siege.”

“We have only their word, your highness,” Ellyn said. “Three children, one of them the son—”

“One of them a
warrior
in service of the empire,” Tyrus said. “A boon companion who trained with me. Although given that Gavril is several moons my senior, I suppose that means I am merely a child, too.”

“Of course not, your highness.”

Tyrus turned to the two guards. “Would you leave us, please?”

Once they’d walked out of earshot, Tyrus turned to Moria and Ashyn. “The deeper problem, I fear, is that my father is not in the city.”

“Your highness!” Thea said.

“It is, as you see, a matter of some secrecy. The people do not like their emperor to leave, yet my father feels the occasional need and does so unbeknownst to his subjects and most of his staff. I will, of course, have my brothers send a party to retrieve him. In the meantime, I would like to offer you the hospitality of the court. It has very richly appointed guest rooms for visiting dignitaries, which you are. Our Keeper and Seeker will remain in their quarters, in the Chambers of the Divine, suitably separated from you, should the proximity make the spirits uneasy.”

Ellyn grumbled but allowed that this was reasonable.

“You ladies may take your leave, then,” Tyrus said. “I will escort the young Keeper and Seeker to their quarters. The less time you spend in their presence, the safer it will be.”

Thea and Ellyn withdrew with their beasts trailing after them.

“My apologies for that,” Tyrus said when they were gone. “Things have been . . . difficult this last moon, which is why my father needed a rest.”

“Problems?” Gavril asked.

Tyrus shrugged. “Tensions. Internally and externally, with mountain tribes. Do not ask me for details.” A flash of a smile. “You know how I hate politics.”

“But you’re good at it,” Ashyn said as they began walking. “You handled that admirably.”

“A bastard must have some head for political wrangling. If not, he risks losing the head he has.”

Another affable smile, as if the prospect of assassination was simply part of everyday life. Moria supposed it was, for him. The children an emperor fathered by official concubines were recognized, like Tyrus. They were raised in the palace as princes and princesses. They received their father’s name and, apparently, modified clan tattoos for the sons.

While bastard princes could not succeed as emperor, they could attain any other high office—even marshal. The problem was that the emperor had several sons by the empress, and only one could succeed him, so the others would need to fight the bastards for court appointments. It was an old joke that emperors bred like rabbits because, like the rodents, so few of their offspring survived. It would not be nearly as amusing an analogy if you were one of those young rabbits.

Tyrus continued, “My place of choice, as Gavril knows, is the battlefield.”

“I saw you practicing,” Moria said. “You’re very good.”

“I had an excellent sparring partner,” he said, with a nod toward Gavril. “But thank you, my lady. You are . . .” A glance down at Daigo. “The Keeper. Of course.”

“Moria,” she said. “My sister is Ashyn. This is Daigo and that is Tova.”

“Ah, yes. I’d heard the Edgewood twins named their hound and wildcat. They are magnificent beasts.” He paused, sobering. “About Edgewood. You said
all
except the children were killed.”

Ashyn nodded. “We suspect they only spared us because they feared spiritual reprisals.”

Moria snorted. “I think they spared us more because we’re useful. We could get their message to the emperor, and Gavril could help us survive the journey across the Wastes.”

“Across the Wastes?” Tyrus paused. “Yes, of course. If the village was massacred, you had to cross. I cannot imagine . . .” He shook his head. “Do you know who killed your people? Tribesmen? Sending missives seems very well organized for tribes—”

He cut himself off with an audible click of his teeth. “And that is none of my business.”

“We’d be happy to tell you all we know,” Ashyn said. “We appreciate what you’ve done for us.”

A wry smile her way. “No, I mean it is truly none of my business, and it’s best if I leave it as such. My brothers will already find fault with my involvement. They are always looking for a sign that I take an interest in court politics. I’ll hear the rest of the story when my father does. He ought to be back before dawn.”

“Dawn?” It was not even midday.

“When my father leaves, he doesn’t stay close. It may be nightfall before the riders even reach him. But he will come, and he will come swiftly. You have my assurances on that.”

Fifty-two

T
he court was comprised of two dozen buildings, as Tyrus explained. The Chambers of the Divine were at the back, near the storehouses and the tea garden.

“The tea garden is magnificent,” he said. “Particularly now, as the cherry blossoms begin to bloom, but I’ll ask you to stay away from that end for now.”

“So Thea and Ellyn have no cause to complain,” Ashyn said.

“Yes. That seems best.”

He pointed out the Hall of the Eight Ministries—the large building he’d been sparring behind. To the side was a small, lushly landscaped garden, centered about a pond. He left them there on the bridge overlooking the pond while he went in to make arrangements for their visit.

“Will you stay here?” Moria asked Gavril once Tyrus was gone.

“I will,” he said. “They require my statement on the matter, and they’ll not want to waste time fetching me from my mother’s house.”

Moria nodded. Ashyn wandered along the bridge, leaning over to look at the koi fish sparkling in the clear water below. She continued off the bridge, heading for a collection of unusual rocks arranged beside the pond.

“So Tyrus,” Moria said when her sister was out of hearing range. “You don’t like him.”

Gavril stiffened. “If I gave that impression, I apologize—”

“Stop politicking, Kitsune. There’s no one to hear you.”

“We are in the imperial city. There is always someone to hear us. Remember that, Keeper.” He lowered his voice. “As for Tyrus Tatsu, he is the emperor’s son. I cannot afford to have a personal opinion on him. If you are asking if I suspect him of ulterior motives, I do not. Tyrus is as he appears. When I knew him, he had no interest in politics, and I cannot imagine that has changed. He knows it’s not in his best interests, and it doesn’t suit him anyway. He lacks the guile to compete in that snake’s nest. He is best suited for his chosen profession: a warrior.”

“So he can be trusted.”

“No one here can be trusted, Keeper.” He gave her a stern look. “Remember that, too.”

“I misspoke. Is he honorable?”

A pause. It didn’t seem as if Gavril was considering the matter, but more as if it pained him to speak the words. “Yes,” he said finally. “Tyrus is honorable.”

Moria realized
that
was Gavril’s problem with the young bastard prince. He respected him. He might even like him. Which was unacceptable, because Tyrus was the son of the man who had, in Gavril’s eyes, betrayed his father.

They were taken directly into a large chamber, where they were seated on cushions and given food and drink, and then told that the chancellor and one of the three major counselors were on their way. Gavril had warned them to expect a delay—the men would be briefed first, and would not rush, for fear of seeming panicked.

Politically, the chancellor ranked just below the emperor and marshal. He was in charge of all matters of state. Major counselors were the emperor’s advisors. Sending both showed that their situation was being taken seriously.

Gavril and Moria decided Ashyn would speak for them. Letting Gavril do so would be politically dangerous. So would letting Moria, though in a much different way.

There was little need for restraint. When the men arrived, with their scribes and their attendants, it was nothing like their encounter with Ellyn and Thea. The chancellor and major counselor listened to their story with incredulity, but they did not question its veracity. Or, Moria suspected, they did not question that the three young people
thought
it was true.

Whether the village had truly been massacred by shadow stalkers seemed dubious to them, but clearly a large number of citizens were dead and the children had been taken hostage by mercenaries, who threatened the people of another town. These were events on too grand a scale to be wholesale fabrications.

They had, of course, dispatched fast runners to Fairview to “assess the ongoing situation,” and to Edgewood to “search for survivors.” Moria would argue with neither. Their story was indeed incredible, and the chancellor would be a fool to take it at face value.

Ashyn said nothing of death worms and thunder hawks. That would come later. Adding more sightings of presumed legendary creatures would not aid their cause.

So they told their story, and then were escorted to their quarters, where they would await the return of the emperor.

Moria wandered about the confines of their room. It was large enough, though the design was not truly to her taste. It was done in the imperial style, starkly white, with “windows” made of thin paper that let in light, but were impossible to see through. Bright, colored pillows decorated the floor and the sleeping mat, adding enough color to ease the chill of the white, but Moria still found herself shivering as she walked.

“Stop pacing,” Ashyn said. “You’re making Daigo dizzy.”

Moria glanced at the wildcat. He was on a bed of pillows like a sultan, sleeping soundly, his wounds cleaned and tended by the court doctor.

“Fine,” Ashyn said. “You’re making
me
dizzy. And Tova.”

The hound grunted in agreement.

“Go to the library and fetch a book.” Ashyn lifted the one she was reading. “You’ve never seen such a collection. They’re sure to have new ones for you, with new beasts you can use to scare children.”

Ashyn smiled, but Moria was in no mood to think of fantastical creatures. At this point, it seemed as if merely to consider them would be to conjure one in their quarters. She had no interest in new tales of wild adventure either. She would be quite happy when this one was done.

“Let me see the envelope,” she said, walking to Ashyn.

“And let you nearly set it on fire again, holding it to the flame trying to read the message inside?” Ashyn shook her head. “You’ll find out soon enough. We cannot risk tampering with it.”

“I’m not tampering. I’m trying to learn more. Once we hand it to the emperor, we have only his word on what’s written within.”

Ashyn’s brows shot up. “You think he would lie?”

“Perhaps not, but I don’t like knowing so little. Let me see the seal again.”

Ashyn sighed and took the envelope out. Moria examined the wax seal.

“It looks like a family crest,” Moria said. “But there is no creature in it, and Gavril did not recognize it.”

“Because if it is a family crest, it is not from a family of the empire. These are mercenaries. They must work for a foreign king.”

“If we could identify it, then . . .”

Another sigh. “Then what? What difference does it make?”

“It would be knowledge. Insight. Before we hand it over.”

Ashyn shook her head and pocketed the envelope. “You’re bored, Moria. Go for a walk. Visit Gavril. He’d be happy to see you.”

“No, I’m quite certain he’s enjoying the respite.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure.” Ashyn smiled. “I think he’d welcome a visit, particularly if your sister is not tagging along.”

“Do not play matchmaker, Ash. Or, if you must, find a more suitable target for me. Gavril is a valuable ally. I respect him.”

“Meaning you do not find him attractive? Because I’m sure I caught you watching at the stream when he took off his tunic to bathe.”

Moria shrugged. “He was doing so within view; it was no invasion of privacy, and it was a sight worth watching. So is a pretty sunset. It does not mean I wish it for my own. I respect Gavril. I admire him. Therefore, he is not a potential lover.”

“
Because
you respect and admire him? That may be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

“Not wishing to dally and amuse myself with someone I hold in regard?” Moria sat cross-legged on the end of the sleeping mat. “I think that is perfectly reasonable. I like Gavril. I enjoy his companionship. He infuriates me, but he challenges me, and I appreciate that. I can talk to him honestly. That’s rare.”

“And all qualities you ought to seek in a lover.”

“Why? I don’t want a lover so I can talk to him. That would defeat the purpose. I can think of much better uses for a lover’s energy. And his mouth.”

Ashyn’s cheeks colored. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“You keep your notions of romance, Ash, and I’ll keep mine. Just understand that they do not include Gavril Kitsune.” She crossed the room and peered out the window into the courtyard. “Is the sun not even down yet?”

“Go to the library and get a book.”

“I don’t want—” She stopped. “Give me that missive again.”

“You’re not—”

“I want to draw the seal. Perhaps I can find references in the library.”

“An excellent idea.” Ashyn sat up. “One that ought to keep you busy and allow me to finish my book. I’ll copy it for you.”