Chapter 8
Eight
Lord Yiilipo stood, his expression assessing, eyes moving around the room, trying to read what his response should be through the reactions of courtiers around him. His wife, clearly more familiar with the court, was faster on the uptake.
She stood, touching his elbow briefly until he raised his arm for her to place her hand in the crook of his elbow. Then she led them both closer to Tallu’s seat until they were in front of our table.
Once in front of Tallu, she bowed, as low as was physically possible, her fingers forming a triangle.
Yiilipo was only a moment behind her, and both of them stayed bowed until Tallu gestured with three fingers to the seat Domusho had abandoned.
There was a fraught, hesitating moment, but then Yiilipo sat, his wife taking the seat Domusho’s nearest loyalist abandoned quickly at Tallu’s sharp glance.
And with that, the power in River Otter Province changed. By the end of the dinner, all of the important people from Otter Cub City had turned their attention to Yiilipo and his wife. All of those Domusho had assumed would be loyal to him were now bowing in front of Yiilipo.
When Domusho left dinner, I watched as one of the blood mages trailed him. It would be easier if he did something obviously disloyal, but we might have to satisfy ourselves with him traveling with us to Tavornai, away from the province he had hoped to rule over backed by Tallu’s power.
That night, after dinner, I lingered on one of the many balconies that overlooked the city.
The expansive view let me see all the way from Domusho’s estate to the edge of the city, where lights flickered and the houses were packed so close together that the glittering lanterns looked almost like fireflies in the grasses.
Behind me, Asahi shifted. I turned. “One of Sagam’s sisters lives in Otter Cub City, doesn’t she?”
For a moment, masked and cloaked in shadow, Asahi looked like a statue, frozen in place. After a long beat, he nodded.
“Won’t he visit her?” I asked. “I’m not sure when His Imperial Majesty will pass this way again.”
“He’s training with the Kennelmaster,” Asahi said. “They went into the city.”
I could hear, under Asahi’s voice, a razor edge of something. Resentment or anger or jealousy.
His mask hid any evidence of what the feeling might be.
“And they won’t meet with his sister?” I asked.
Asahi gave me a look, everything hidden behind his mask, his eyes in deep shadow, but even without being able to see them, I could recognize annoyance in the tilt of his head.
“No,” I said, “I suppose they wouldn’t, unless she is secretly a member of the Kennel.”
Asahi inclined his head, and I considered his silence.
“He was the best choice,” I said quietly. “The Kennelmaster wouldn’t agree to train you, and Tallu couldn’t trust Gotuye.”
“Because of my father? Is that why?” But Asahi didn’t sound angry. So his upset wasn’t that he had been passed over.
“You’re afraid that this will trap Sagam even more?” I asked.
“The Kennelmaster’s position is one that is only abandoned in death,” Asahi said.
“No emperor can risk letting loose the man who knows all of his secrets and who holds the reins to his spies. He is not some horse put out to pasture, or a dog that one can let sleep in front of the fire in its old age.”
“The Kennelmaster is dying,” I said bluntly. Some night insects began to sing, cutting the silence around us with their music. “He is dying, and the emperor needs someone capable in that position. Who would you have had him choose?”
Asahi looked aside, his chest rising and falling.
“If he asks for his freedom, the emperor would grant it.”
Asahi let out a sound that might have been a snort, but it was muffled by his mask. “He will not.”
“Then accept that he is the one the emperor knew he could rely on. His Imperial Majesty has every faith in Sagam.”
I couldn’t tell from the silence what Asahi was thinking, but eventually, he dropped his head, his chin nearly touching his chest. I took it as assent.
We traveled on, but the mood among the courtiers who had tied their own power to Tallu’s had shifted.
In the next province, Tallu lent his support to the courtier who had followed him, even going so far as to let the man fly Tallu’s ruby and gold colors above his massive estate when we stayed there.
It drove a rift into the alliance of merchant guilds who had begun dividing power among themselves.
Tallu trusted the lord he backed little, but he trusted the guilds less.
According to the blood monks and the ravens, the servants were happy under their current lord, and the farmers were pleased that he never demanded taxes in years when they lost their crops to disease, instead dipping into his own coffers to pay whatever was owed to the emperor.
In comparison, the merchants were known for kidnapping any electro mage children whose parents weren’t willing to sell them, and lending money at too-high interest rates.
With one courtier displaced from the rule of his province and another reinforced, Tallu’s court grew wary and uncertain, and doubt flowed through it in a sickly, thick miasma.
More members of court visited Empress Koque and me as various courtiers tried to find the right route to Tallu’s affections.
Koque was careful never to promise any favor, and I played the fool when asked directly who Tallu planned to support.
“We will be in Pine Thorn Province soon,” I commented in our carriage, the electro magic keeping it running smoothly even over the steep peaks. Empress Koque nodded, running a golden brush through Prince Hallu’s curling hair.
“I have met with Lady Jolushi, who assures me that, although her husband is missing, she has his full authority to act as regent until their son comes of age.” Empress Koque kept her eyes on Hallu despite the reflections from the golden brush that flashed light on the walls of the carriage.
I wasn’t sure what to make of Lady Jolushi.
By and large, all houses were run by patriarchs.
I had yet to see one that even allowed a regent, much less a woman acting as one.
Empress Koque paused, her fingers tracing over a knot in Hallu’s hair.
He didn’t react as she tugged on it gently pulling strands free one at a time.
“What do you think of the lady, Your Imperial Majesty?” Koque asked.
Tallu looked away from the window, his eyes going distant. After a few moments, he shook his head.
“I know very little of her. Do you have information that you think I should know?” he asked.
“She was Lord Jolushi’s first wife,” Koque said. She finished untangling the knot in Hallu’s hair and returned to brushing. “I believe that, if the capital hadn’t been taken, Lord Jolushi might have thrown her aside in favor of someone younger and more fertile.”
“But, they have a son, don’t they?” I asked.
“Bastard,” Terror muttered from my shoulder. “She’s raising him as her own. You wouldn’t find me sharing a nest with a cuckoo, but she seems happy enough with him.”
Koque watched the bird with interest before answering the question. “I do not believe the son is hers, although he was recognized as Jolushi’s heir.”
“It’s interesting that she and the son made it out of the capital, while her husband was left behind.” With a significant glance at Tallu, I said, “I’m sure he died in battle defending you as Kacha’s and Bemishu’s forces took the capital.”
Tallu smirked. “We will have to consider.”
“Consort Airón, I understand Emperor Tallu is considering Lady Jolushi’s request.” Empress Koque spoke over her cup of tea.
The small tent that had been set up for her in the wide-open field we had taken over for the noon meal was carefully protected from listening ears by her loyal servants.
Of course, Nohe had sent one of my servants along as well, as though not to be outdone by the empress’s retinue.
My servant was a shy girl, often overpowered by Homisu’s strong personality when she assisted him in dressing me.
Irad?o had taken over for Asahi as my bodyguard, and from the way her head was tilted, listening to the flock of birds in the tree, she was taking the opportunity to catch up on gossip.
“Do you have something he should consider?” I took a sip of the tea, tasting the sharp and bitter notes that indicated it had come from the mountainous region we were entering. “I would think, being a lady whose husband is no longer with us, you might share some sympathy with her.”
“I would never seek to influence His Imperial Majesty’s decisions,” Empress Koque said carefully.
“I understand the grace that Prince Hallu and I have been given. However, I wanted to acquaint you, as one less familiar with our customs, with the game board on which His Imperial Majesty is playing. It is one thing for the emperor to throw his support behind Lord Yiilipo. Even Lord Domusho understands the position he put himself in, abandoning his wife. Despite the cut, Lord Domusho still feels safer with the emperor, given that he still travels with us rather than staying behind in River Otter Province.”
“But you think it is dangerous for Emperor Tallu to support Lady Jolushi?” I asked.
“It would threaten the structure that the Imperium is built on. If he lets her act as regent, it increases her station, and all women’s along with it.
Given the current instability in the Imperium, playing the games that His Imperial Majesty is used to playing and keeping the court on its toes might be seen as a sign that the emperor is not the strong hand that will lead us out of the crisis.
” It was amazing how carefully Koque worded her statements, as though merely informing me rather than stating an opinion.
“Who approached you?” I asked, unable to phrase my own suspicion as carefully as she phrased hers.