Chapter 7 #2
My eyes are forward, my head unable to move. Dimly I am aware of Zhasna and Uma behind him, spotting us from the gates and shouting, but Eliyas’s voice in my ear is all I hear clearly.
‘You’re a little bird. I’d rather flay my skin than ever hurt you, Younger Sister. Please, I need you to wait. Wait before you report to the emperor,’ he murmurs.
My trembling mouth opens. I whisper, ‘I am sorry.’
From behind us, the emperor and three guards surge forward from the garden.
Before Eliyas could flee to Warlord Akashun, I kept him here, for the emperor.
The emperor comes to Eliyas wearing a detached expression, but a fire burns in those eyes. I know there is anguish there – I know the emperor feels the pain keenly in himself, for this is his prized son, the prodigal warrior.
Eliyas’s mouth parts, his expression changing as he glances between us. Surprise, betrayal, and finally disappointment.
Eliyas gave me a choice. And before he could take me in with his sweet words, I chose.
‘To think my own kin,’ the emperor spits.
Eliyas stands to his full height and brushes his indigo robes, a smile in place. ‘I don’t deny it, Dada. Do as you please.’
The emperor raises a hand and before I can blink, smacks Eliyas hard. His back slams against the eucalyptus tree. The emperor tugs him up, another fist to his face, and another, and another. With every squelch of bone against flesh, the ground trembles.
‘Eliyas!’
I sink to the ground, covering my ears. I’ve seen Older Brother spar faster than any clansman.
Here, he does not raise a hand to defend himself against the emperor.
For once I do not see him as a powerful adviser, a warrior monk.
He seems a young man. A son who cannot raise a hand against his dada.
He takes each fist, as if he’d endured this violence from him before.
The revelation of this makes it feel both familiar and worse.
A bloodied Eliyas grips the trunk, somehow shakily back on his feet. The emperor raises his hand again.
Without thinking, I lunge forward; his knuckles connect against my left cheekbone instead.
My head snaps into Eliyas’s chest.
The emperor’s eyes pin me in place before he snarls. Instead of continuing, he turns and shouts orders to the guards.
Eliyas cradles me to his chest, his back against the trunk. ‘You f-fool,’ he coughs out, tone wet.
‘I-I had to tell him,’ I say as he lifts his hand, touching my swelling cheek.
‘No, you are a fool for taking his fist. You are not my shield. I am yours, little bird,’ he says thickly.
‘You are supposed to despise me. I didn’t wait. I told—’
‘Quiet,’ he soothes. ‘I expected it. Akashun assured me you would ally with us, but I know you better. Your heart is with your clan, a violent bond of love.’
‘Love,’ I echo. ‘What is that? I don’t know anything of it. If I loved you, why did I betray your trust?’
‘I betrayed yours. We are both horrid at it,’ he laughs melancholy.
‘We don’t have time before the guards take me.
’ He grips my chin. His head presses against mine in earnest, his voice a murmur.
‘I dreamt long ago of the emperor’s courtly birds.
The bird of a king reflects the nature of their rule.
Sometimes I see you as the bird. But in one terror, I saw his crane fighting with another on the divan.
It’s a sign, a new enemy will arise for the empire.
I knew it was Akashun. I knew I would support him, if only to take another enemy out . . . our father.’
He pauses and shuts his eyes. ‘Whatever comes next, I do not hate you. You, who’ve been misled and used, by Dada, our umas, our elders – by me – still I know you and I trust my upbringing of you.
I’ve seen and interpreted my dreams. You are the most resilient girl.
You will be powerful, even on a path of solitude.
One day you will pave your own way, with your own power.
I’m sorry, little bird. I could not save you from the emperor, from any of them, from what is to happen to you, and I could not give you the family you deserve.
I could not even save myself. But you are strong.
You do not realise it, but, on the Divine, this court is not fit for the likes of you, to be caged inside its walls.
It’s not the ways of your true tribe, for you are still your uma’s daughter.
The people you were born from; the ones who walk with the winds of Brother-Nature.
Sooner or later, even a caged bird is let free. ’
‘Why do you speak like this, Eliyas? Dada will lash you; he might even imprison you, to halt your doings. But I will convince him to release you, even if it takes years!’
He kisses each cheek gently. ‘That is not the way of honour in our clan, little bird.’
‘But—’
He kisses my temple then. ‘Beware of our father. The danger in ignoring your pain for so long is that the more you experience it, the more you become accustomed to it. Until you trick yourself into thinking you deserve it. You are better. I was not, but I’m honoured to leave as a martyr.
Peace on you, I will see you in the next life, in Paradise. ’
A forceful hand rips me away from Eliyas, dragging me across the courtyard. At the commotion, clansmen gather in the gardens; I spot Uma, Dunya, the other wives, my cousins and elders.
The emperor observes them all, calm. ‘The clans will witness the cost of defiance.’ He speaks low, but the words make me flinch.
Yun and Azra run from the outer walls, huge-eyed at the blood on Eliyas.
‘Older Brother!’ Yun starts, before spinning on the emperor, ‘You cannot do this. It will ruin us—’
The emperor lifts his hand and Yun flinches. ‘Do you wish to join him?’
‘It’s all my fault,’ I cry.
‘Do not look away, little sister.’ Yun, who I’ve never seen shed a tear, has wet eyes. ‘You must watch.’
A crowd of senior monks shoves through the gardens before a horde of palace guards thwarts them.
‘This is injustice!’ one of the monks yells, but he too is silenced.
Amidst the chaos, at the emperor’s orders, Eliyas is dragged to the front of the courtyard.
The horror of what I’ve caused sets in.
Uma reaches my side. The air lingers with a haze of smoke, half of the guards at the outer walls subduing the breach, with another sizeable number fending off the angered monks and priests. Something slithers in the air . . . as if the wind itself is holding its breath.
Despite the yells and clanks of fighting, at the emperor’s order, the notables of the eight great clans are forced to bow cross-legged in the courtyard, ivory blades pressed to their foreheads. A guard pushes me to sit between Azra and Yun.
Seeing Eliyas kicked down like a beaten dog, my vision blurs. I cannot sense anything, as if my soul is watching from afar. I see myself stand. I must go to him. Older Brother, my lips shape, but Yun hooks a finger into my collar.
‘If the emperor sees even a tear on your face, you will be next,’ he warns before tucking an arm around my waist. ‘Take my hand; squeeze it,’ he orders. ‘The urge to cry will disappear.’
The sky lightens above us. It’s a bloodied dawn, the stained-glass domes of the palaces reflecting the violent sky. The grounds shudder below the angered gusts of a grieving wind.
‘She lied!’ Dunya’s shrill cry breaks through the clans. ‘She is deceiving us!’
Quickly, a guard grasps a great axe, while holding the familiar cage of courtly cranes.
They are executed first, a symbol of Eliyas’s status as Chief Dream-Interpreter.
Their bloodied heads fall in a sombre manner, the white stumps of their long necks twitching in a final cry, but at least in death, they’ve been freed from their cage.
At them, Eliyas labours forward, struggling against the guards.
His lips move in a prayer, more concerned with the dead birds than his own well-being.
He’s struck in the face by a guard as if he was never the son of the emperor. I force back a cry. Eliyas is splayed down and laid out like a lamb to be butchered. He cranes his neck and our eyes lock. Even caked in blood, Older Brother looks calm – serene.
Life has been unkind to me, but with him, there were the sweeter moments.
Past the betrayals, the warlords, the clans .
. . he is my brother. I wish to see him smile again; to carry me on his back; to feed me halva; to hold my hand and guide it through martial stances; to tighten my shawl and tuck it beneath my chin.
As the tide of sorrow washes upon me, I remember that I am responsible for this, and it ceases. I keep my eyes steady upon him; I do not falter.
From Eliyas’s feet, a familiar black shadow rises that no one can perceive but I.
Wispy tendrils grow into knobbed, crooked limbs, and white eyes.
A gap carved into its face reveals pointy teeth.
The shadow droops, sniffing Eliyas in fascination.
My being trembles. The shadow pauses, glancing at me in question.
More smoke cloaks us like a dark burial shroud. In the row to one side, Uma’s expression urges: you can stop this. My fingers clench and I imagine nūr shielding Eliyas. It would only take a moment.
Eliyas mouths something, and I know it is the prayer that all the faithful do before their end: the Oneness of the Divine. Still looking at me, a bittersweet smile graces him. As if he’s always known who I would choose. My hand clamps to my lips.
Behind him, and eager, the shadow’s arm dives into Eliyas’s chest, tugging out a sinewy red organ. Its teeth tear into the pulsing heart. I watch on, numb.
I must save Older Brother. My fingers point up, flickering with a Heavenly bond.
I halt. The emperor is watching me.
I have power. Why must I sit here quiet? Why am I not using it?
The emperor blinks slowly.
I curl into myself. I do not move again.