Page 23

J ai lay on the furs of his tent, staring up at the ceiling. It was enormous. Larger, even, than Sindri’s had been. Too large for Jai to pack away on his own.

He found himself grappling with the realisation that servants would now do that for him. Yet, as he lay within the empty tent, an unexpected pang of yearning gripped him.

He found himself longing for the modest tent the Valor gave him, where the wind would rustle the khiroi furs, and the scent of dew-kissed grass was always lingering. He yearned for the hum of life just beyond the fur walls, where laughter ebbed and flowed like a merry stream, the chatter of voices weaving tales yet to be heard.

Now he was engulfed in a silence that seemed to swallow all sound. It was just him and Winter, nestled in his lap, her rhythmic breathing all that disturbed the air. He pulled off his satchel, and then the ripped shirt.

It was time to take stock, for the tent contained nothing in the way of furniture – only the furs that kept him from sitting on bare grass. It was hollow luxury.

Which reflected his feelings precisely.

More than inside, though, he possessed little. The worn shoes that had journeyed with him from Latium itself, the simplistic Valor attire now torn and fraying at the edges. The gorget that graced his throat, and Leonid’s diary. His other possessions were but the detritus of his travels – a shrivelled carrot top, a single Sabine coin, and a sabretooth fang. His sword, however, was gone. It seemed Zayn had not been joking when he said they needed swords.

He had nothing, and yet he had everything. Everything that mattered. Winter.

A surge of emotion welled within him, too powerful to contain. His vision blurred as tears began to fall, each a remembrance to his brothers who would never see this day.

He was home. A dream he had never truly allowed himself to believe in. And yet here he was. Alone amid the grandeur, save for Winter’s unwavering presence.

He ran his fingers along Winter’s pearlescent scales, his heart swelling with the love he held for his faithful dragon. Winter, with her bottomless eyes and her warmth that seemed to seep into his very bones. She was his constant, her love the beacon that guided him in the darkest of hours. It was her love that gave him the strength to bear the unbearable, to find hope in the hopeless.

He reached for the diary. In this place, now, more than ever, he wished to read about his father. Even from the mouthpiece of the man’s nemesis, the scribbled writings were near all he had of him now. He would learn the truth soon enough, from his father’s people.

Our first major defeat today. Thirty cavalrymen, ranging our trail. Gone in an instant. Our men hardly dared collect the bodies, so quickly did these Steppefolk seem to come and go. Our horsemen are no match in open battle – they, who are more used to the cleaving of a retreating man’s back than the rigours of battle on beast-back. I was told by a survivor that they numbered only ten, and were not even seeking a fight. A band of shepherds, it seems, slaughtered my men.

On further investigation, these so-called skirmishes we had won in days past were little more than ambushes of small bands, traders and heathen families. No true victories, only the boastful tales of cowardly soldiers, embellished beyond recognition.

This war will not be won if it is one between horse and khiro, those great stinking beasts that are these heathens’ chattel of choice. I have sent every cavalryman back, but for a handful. And these too shall not range far beyond our camp.

Still, my spies have been busy at work, crossing the palms of Phoenixian traders with silver. Rumours, and whispers abound, but these shadows begin to take shape. I hear of a warlord who does not take kindly to my invasion, or any incursions into their lands. A man who is feared, even among his people. Only when silver turned to gold did they dare even speak his name.

Rohan.

There was a tapping on the entrance to the tent, and Jai swiftly wiped his eyes with his sleeves. Feng ducked his head into the tent before Jai was finished, and cast his eyes downward as he and his sister, Sum, shuffled into the tent.

In this moment, Jai’s stomach twisted. For Sum was so young. And now she was to be cast out, with Feng. Left penniless, with whatever merchants that rode the plains.

And it was his fault.

She smiled at him, shuffling forward. Her eyes were fixed on Winter, and she twisted her little hands. She couldn’t have been much older than eight or nine.

‘She likes scratches around her horns.’ Jai winked, gently moving Winter’s dozing head and standing.

Sum clapped her hands with glee, and Jai felt his spirits lift as she descended upon Winter with grabbing hands. The dragon didn’t seem to mind, rolling onto her belly and letting out a panting yap of pleasure.

He’d neglected her these past days. No longer. She was all he had in this world. That much was clear.

‘Feng,’ Jai said. ‘I thank you, for your part in what happened this morn—’

‘No thanks needed,’ Feng said hastily, holding up his hands. ‘You have done far more than any have for me before.’

Jai rubbed his eyes, trying to consider how to broach what Nazeem had told him.

‘We need to secure the entrance,’ Feng said. ‘Did Sindri leave you a weapon in that bag?’

Jai shook his head, bemused by his friend’s antics.

‘Why would I need one?’ Jai asked. ‘I’m in the safest place I could be.’

Feng stared at him, and Jai stared back. It was strange; Feng was looking at him as if he were the mad one.

Feng ran his hands over his face, shaking his head.

‘You have no idea, do you? Mother help us.’

‘What aren’t you telling me, Feng?’ Jai asked.

But in his heart, he knew what it was. The cold reception, the empty room, the hard negotiation. There was more to this.

‘The obvious!’ Feng snapped, wincing as Sum and Winter went quiet at the sudden noise. Feng smiled to them, though Jai saw it didn’t touch his eyes.

‘We’re just playing a game,’ he said to his sister. ‘Don’t worry about us.’

He took Jai by the shoulder, and pulled him a little further away.

‘Jai. You may have lived among royals, but you know nothing of the politics of our people. You’re in more danger here than you ever were with the Valor.’

Jai felt his worst fears confirmed. He didn’t want to believe it. He was home now. He was safe. This was all a trick, a manipulation. He needed it to be.

‘Why should I trust a word you say now? You didn’t tell Nazeem about Winter,’ Jai said, careless of the anger in his voice. ‘Nor the diary, nor the armour. Everything that would prove that I am who I say. Why?’

Feng shook his head.

‘I was trying to help you,’ he muttered. ‘Now you treat me li—’

‘Just tell me,’ Jai said, forcing out a breath to calm himself.

Feng stepped away, and Jai could see tears in his eyes.

‘I didn’t have to help you, you know,’ he said. ‘I could have told them the truth – made them think you really were the heir. You’d already be dead.’

‘I’m sorry, Feng,’ Jai said. ‘Truly. I just... I’ve dreamed of coming home my whole life. Now, you’re telling me I’m in danger? Help me understand.’

Feng chewed his lips, and wiped his face with his sleeve.

‘Sindri valued me for more than a middleman for the untainted,’ Feng explained, his eyes holding Jai’s firmly. ‘To survive as a trader in the Great Steppe is to master a treacherous dance, playing one tribe or clan, or even sect against another. My father danced it well. But he was too trusting of the Pact. And we paid the price.’

Feng motioned at the fur-lined floor, and Jai sat with him, the chortling of Sum discordant in the heavy atmosphere.

‘Trust, Jai,’ Feng said. ‘That is the heart of it.’

Jai leaned close, feeling his joy evaporating like rain in a hot skillet.

‘I learned at my father’s feet,’ Feng continued, his voice steady. ‘Then by his side. I sat through every negotiation, every parlay. Believe me, Jai, when I say this – I know of what I speak.’

Jai nodded silently, his mouth dry.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered.

‘Jai, you are the rightful heir,’ Feng asserted. ‘Your uncle may act as regent, but that’s all he is – a placeholder. The nobles loyal to your father never let him forget that fact, or at least, they did when we traded with them last. He is king only in name.’

‘What does that matter?’ Jai asked.

‘In Sithian succession, even a courtesan’s child can hold greater claim than a sibling,’ Feng explained. ‘With Arjun lost, you are not just a prince, Jai, but a king in waiting.’

Jai nodded slowly, understanding beginning to dawn. He had thought he would rule alongside his uncle. Or inherit it when he was passed, for his brothers had told him the man had no children of his own. He didn’t want to believe it.

‘I’ve no intention to oust my uncle. He paid for me. Kept my father’s tribe for my brothers and I. He’ll be right by my side.’

Feng shook his head, as if Jai were speaking in a foreign tongue. Jai’s confusion mounted.

‘What does any of this have to do with concealing my identity?’

‘Because had they suspected you were the true heir, we all would be dead by now. Sindri was reckless to even attempt the exchange.’

Jai’s stomach churned.

‘Why... why would they...?’ he stammered.

‘Because you are going to take his crown. If he had suspected, he would have orchestrated an “accident”. Claimed you were an imposter, that the Valor staged an ambush. None would be the wiser.’

Jai felt the ground shift beneath him. He was in the eye of a storm.

‘Why even agree to the ransom?’ Jai muttered aloud.

‘Because many Kidara are loyal to your father’s memory. Men and women who fought for him, whose families died for him. Many more remember your father fondly. So Teji had to show them he was taking the ransom seriously. All those weapons and khiroi you saw on your way in? It was a show, nothing more. Politics.’

‘How?’ Jai pressed.

‘When I delivered the Valor’s ransom terms, I ensured there was an audience. I spent the whole morning in that damned tent waiting for enough nobles to be within earshot before Nazeem’s men hauled me off.’

‘So Teji and Nazeem thought I was a fraud?’ Jai asked.

‘I did everything short of proclaiming it outright. I dropped enough hints under duress for that parasite Nazeem to conclude he’d extracted the truth from me. They thought they’d buy a tarted-up street rat for a handful of gold, and parade you around as the imposter they thought you were, to convince everyone that Rohan’s line was extinct.’

‘And instead, they got... me,’ Jai said. ‘The thing they feared most – the true heir.’

Feng glanced at the tent entrance, and scratched his head nervously.

‘They won’t attack us in broad daylight. But from now on, only eat food from the communal pots, and do not accept any drinks you are offered.’

Jai laid his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

‘That Nazeem is not what he seems,’ Feng murmured, his gaze intent on Jai, making sure he was heard. ‘He has his tentacles wrapped around Teji, guiding his moves. He is the puppeteer behind the scenes.’

‘If that’s true, why didn’t he kill me at the exchange the moment he realised I was the true heir?’ Jai asked.

‘His arrogance was our saving grace,’ Feng said with a wry smile. ‘So convinced was he you were an imposter, he invited your father’s loyalists to witness it. Thank the Mother he did.’

Winter nosed close, sensing Jai’s distress. He clutched her tight, drawing comfort from her warm embrace, and Sum toddled over, wrapping her arms around her elder brother. For a moment, they sat there, revelling in the reprieve they had bought, and fearing what was to come.

‘These loyalists, then,’ Jai said. ‘It’s time I met them.’