means abandoning Kerala to the Soldarans. If the worst happens, we have to survive as a people if we’re to win back our land some day.” He gently kissed the child’s cheek and returned him to his mother.
A small crowd of castle folk turned out to see them off. Many wept, some coming forward to clutch at Ashinji’s hand so they might press it to their foreheads in obeisance. He realized they were afraid, yet Ashinji could see their collective resolve in their faces. He knew that if they had to, his people would master their fear to defend themselves.
He and Gran climbed aboard their mounts then rode through the gates, Gendan, Kami, and Iruka keeping pace beside them.
At the far side of the bridge linking the castle to the mainland, Ashinji drew rein and turned to look back at the whitewashed walls of his birthplace. He wondered if he would ever see it again.
Gendan, his young son in his arms, Kami by his side, and Iruka stood in the shade beneath the guardhouse, watching. Ashinji raised a hand in farewell and Gendan raised his in salute. High overhead, a pair of hawks soared in the early summer sky, black shapes against azure. Their mating screams drifted on the warm air; the sound struck a melancholy chord in Ashinji’s heart.
He sighed and pointed his horse’s head west toward Sendai.
“Did you reach her? Did you speak to my mother?” Ashinji burned with impatience.
Gran’s eyes fluttered open and she took a deep breath before answering. “Yes, Ashi, and I’m quite surprised I was able to. At such a distance, mindspeech without an amplifier is very difficult. We are still at least a week’s ride from Sendai, after all.”
After pushing their mounts hard for most of the day, the two travelers had stopped for the night at a small manor house set atop a low hill, surrounded by tidy parklands. The manor had been left in the care of its steward; the lord and his adult children had ridden south with the main army while the lady had fled north with her little ones. When Ashinji and Gran had arrived and introduced themselves, the steward willingly extended the hospitality of the manor in the name of his absent master. After serving them a meal of poached fish and salad in the sitting room, the steward had left them to themselves.
“Naturally, your mother was shocked to hear from me after so many years.” Gran relaxed into the comfortable embrace of the yellow silk-upholstered couch that served as the centerpiece of the room. “I couldn’t hold the link for very long,” she continued, “but I did manage to tell her I was on my way to Sendai and that you were with me.”
“Now that she knows I’m alive…she’ll…she’ll tell Jelena…” Ashinji’s voice trailed off as he swallowed a sudden spate of tears.
“I’m sorry for your pain, my son,” Gran murmured.
Weariness bent his shoulders and dragged at his eyelids. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. He departed the sitting room, leaving Gran alone with her thoughts.
“Captain Sakehera! You sure look good for a dead man,” the city guardsman observed.
“I’ve heard that a lot, lately.” Ashinji and Gran had just been admitted into the city through the smallest of its four gates and now found themselves surrounded by a clutch of curious guards. Ashinji’s gelding snorted, prancing in place, tail lashing. He patted the animal’s neck to calm it, but his own anxiety only fueled its fractiousness.
“A lot’s happened since you’ve been gone, sir,” the guard said. “The army’s already marched south.”
“I expected as much.” Near desperate to ride on toward the castle, Ashinji had to force himself not to scream for the guards to get out of his way. “Please. I need to go to my wife now.”
“The king’s deathly ill, Captain.” The other guards nodded in somber confirmation. “We hear it’s the plague. The princess has hardly left his side for days.”
“Ai, Goddess,” Gran sighed. “This is a catastrophe.”
“We must go now. Please let us through!” Fear turned Ashinji’s request into a harsh command. The guards melted aside. Ashinji drummed his heels against his horse’s flanks and the gelding broke into a ground-eating lope. With Gran’s mount close behind, the horse pounded up the avenue toward Sendai Castle.
An eerie stillness reigned over a city that had once bustled with sound and motion. Only the clatter of hoofbeats broke the quiet. Shop fronts turned blank, shuttered faces to the street; the few people abroad in the lanes and alleys scurried like scared rabbits seeking sanctuary. All of Sendai had battened down, as if awaiting the arrival of a massive storm.
At the summit of the avenue, as its feet touched the sand of the parade ground, Ashinji whipped the horse into a gallop then bent low over its neck as the gelding hurtled straight for the open gates.
When the horse barreled through, scattering the guards who had come to investigate, Ashinji paid no heed to their cries. He fixed his gaze on the massive iron-banded doors, and like a thrown knife, the horse shot toward them. Gran’s mare had fallen far behind, but Ashinji remained heedless to all but his goal.
A heartbeat shy of disaster, he hauled back on the reins and the gelding slid to a stop amid a shower of gravel, tossing its head in distress. Ashinji vaulted from the saddle as the horse pirouetted away with a snort, then sprinted toward the broad, shallow steps leading up to the entrance.
He called to her, with his voice and with mindspeech.
She answered…
…and he saw her running toward him, arms outstretched, crying his name.
She fell into his arms, sobbing.
His own tears mingled with hers as he covered her face and throat with kisses, whispering her name each time his lips touched her skin.
Nothing else mattered, except her.
Part II
The Lie is Revealed
Ashi, is it really you?” Jelena whispered.
“Yes, it’s really me. I’ve come back to you, my love.” He clung to her with such strength, she could barely
