“Your mother swore me to secrecy. I had to lie to Keizo, my friend and my king. Goddess’ tits, but that was hard. She promised me the Kirians had everything in hand, that the plan would succeed…She left out the part about having to kill Jelena, though.” Sen scowled, and seeing his father’s anger, Ashinji laid a hand on his forearm.
“Please don’t be angry with Mother. She hoped with all her heart the Kirians could find a way to accomplish their task without…without killing Jelena, but in the end, they could not.”
“I wish they’d left you out of it, Son. You shouldn’t have had to do what they asked of you. It wasn’t fair.”
“They had no one else. If I hadn’t agreed, then none of us would have survived.”
Father and son gazed at each other without speaking for a few heartbeats. Ashinji broke the silence first.
“Father, you knew about my Talent, didn’t you?”
Sen looked away. “I’m sorry, Ashi,” he murmured. “Your mother knew, even before you were born, how strong your Talent was. She and I both agreed…we felt it would be easier on you if she blocked your magic. That way, it wouldn’t be so hard for you to accept what our tradition decreed for you, that as a second-born child of my House, your life was pledged to the king’s service.”
Ashinji remembered how much anger he had felt toward his mother when she had admitted what she had done.
“I always knew a soldier’s life wasn’t what you wanted, Son,” Sen continued, “but you never complained. You did what was expected of you, and now…” Sen cradled Ashinji’s bruised face between his hands. “You are my Heir now, Ashi,” he whispered.
Ashinji lowered his head, unable to look his father in the eyes. “No matter how I felt about my brother, I never wanted him dead.”
“I know,” Sen replied. He let his hands slip down to Ashinji’s shoulders, gave them a squeeze, then dabbed his leaking eyes on his sleeve. His melancholy expression brightened a little.
“Now that you’ve recovered enough to travel, I’m ordering this division back to Tono Castle today. We should be on the road to Sendai within the week. I’ll send in Kamiro with some clothes for you.” Sen rose to his feet, pushed aside the curtain and left.
Ashinji lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. A hodgepodge of aches plagued his body, but nothing so severe that it would prevent him from walking, or even riding when he had to.
After assuring himself his body could function, albeit in a diminished capacity, he turned his mind to the task of assessing the state of his Talent. The energy fueling his magic had begun to replenish itself, but it had yet to reach full strength; even so, he decided to reach out with his mind to try to search for the familiar thread of energy that had bound him and Jelena together.
He sensed nothing.
Kamiro bustled in, bringing a fresh set of clothes. “May I assist you, my lord?” the valet offered.
Ashinji opened his eyes. “No thank you, Kamiro. I think I can manage,” he replied. The valet bowed, placed the clothing on the cot, bowed again, then departed.
Dressing himself proved to be a little more difficult and painful than Ashinji had anticipated. A mass of bruises covered his torso where Sadaiyo had pummeled him, and it hurt to raise his arms. After pulling on a pair of sandals then raking his fingers through his disheveled hair, he stepped out of the tent into the late afternoon sunshine.
A ragged chorus of cheers greeted him, causing him to start in surprise. A large group of Kerala soldiers stood before the tent, just as Sen had said.
Aneko stood at the forefront. “On behalf of all of the Kerala troops, I want to welcome you back, my lord,” she said, grinning.
Ashinji scanned the faces before him, seeing a new, deeper level of devotion in each one. Until this moment, he had given no thought to the full measure of profound change Sadaiyo’s death had wrought upon his life and future. He had no choice but to face it now.
Aneko stepped forward. “I’m very sorry for your loss, my lord. We all are,” she said, then added in a low voice, “For the first time, though, I feel confident about Kerala’s future. I apologize if my words offend you, my lord, but it’s true and I know all my comrades feel the same.” She glanced over her shoulder at the assembled troops.
“In the face of such love and loyalty, I can feel nothing but pride and love in return,” Ashinji replied. “I only pray I’ll remain worthy of your devotion.” He raised his voice so the entire group could hear. “Thank you all.”
“Let’s hear it for our young lord!” Aneko shouted.
The soldiers’ cheers flew into the cloudless sky like bright arrows.
“My lord Prince, General Sakehera has returned.”
Raidan raised his head from his clasped hands. “Thank you,” he murmured to the messenger. “I will go down and meet him.”
The new king had spent the last few nights in the castle’s chapel, keeping vigil beside his son’s body. The chapel attendants had washed the dead prince then redressed him in his armor, and now the body lay on a bier before the altar. Stiffly, Raidan rose from his knees, massaging the ache in his lower back. He looked around and spotted Kaisik, asleep on a bench by the east wall. Wincing with pain, he made his way over to the bench then stood a moment, looking down at the boy.
“Kaisik,” Raidan murmured, reaching down with a gentle hand to shake the boy’s shoulder.
“Mmmm.”
“Wake up, Son. It’s morning.”
Kaisik’s eyes fluttered open, blank at first, then clouding with grief as memory returned. He levered himself up into a sitting position, his gaze settling on Raidu’s body. “I keep praying for it all to be a bad dream,” he whispered.
“If only that were so. Come.” Raidan gestured for Kaisik to follow him. The messenger waited, fidgeting, by the chapel door. Raidan raised his eyebrow.
“My lord Prince, you won’t believe this news!” the man said in a rush. “General Sakehera’s son, the one everyone thought was dead? Well, seems he’s very much alive! He’s with the general now, my lord!”
Raidan nodded his head in silent respect. He looked up at the sky and saw that much of the morning had already passed. He had lost all sense of the flow of time while kneeling by Raidu’s body in the smoky dimness of the chapel, aware only of the bitter truth of his eldest son’s death.
With the messenger leading the way, Raidan left the chapel then walked down the gravel path to the main gate of the castle, Kaisik trailing after him like a mournful ghost. He spotted Sen standing amidst a group of his Kerala troops. Of Sen’s eldest son, he saw no sign, but Ashinji stood beside him, his face cut and bruised as if he
