Page 29

J ai panted on the floor, more from adrenaline than any true exertion. It had all happened so fast, it could have been less than thirty seconds before the floor was littered with corpses.

Lai nudged at the man she had killed, her face inscrutable. Jai knew the life of a steppe trader was a treacherous one, but even he was surprised by her cold indifference.

‘I know this man,’ she said.

‘Who are they?’ Jai demanded.

Lai gave him a look that told him he should watch his manners, and Jai relented, taking a deep breath.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘I heard one of them was called Wei.’

She shook her head, and hunkered down, bringing the lantern close. Winter snarled nearby, as if Lai were stealing her food.

‘These are traders. This is Wei’s brother, Bao. There were five of them?’

Jai nodded, reaching out to Winter and laying a calming hand on her head. She snorted, and shook it off, prowling to the place where the men had cut their way in.

‘Your uncle must’ve offered a fortune to get this cowardly lot to risk their necks here,’ she said. ‘They’re no assassins. Just bullies.’

‘You know about my uncle?’ Jai asked.

Lai shrugged.

‘I knew the Kidaran prince had arrived back when you and Feng approached me, but I never thought you were who he said. Not least because you’re of mixed blood – the rumours said you were Arjun. I did not even know you existed. More fool me – should have asked for more money for this shirt.’

She sniffed, and stood again, picking her way over the bodies to replace Jai’s lantern upon the tent pole. As she passed him by, she handed him a towel.

Jai realised he was still entirely naked. He swiftly wiped himself dry, scraping off as much of the oil as he could. Then he pulled on his trousers, nearly falling over in his haste.

It was just in time too, for Jai heard the approach of footsteps, and snatched up a blade, even as Feng burst into the tent.

Feng stared, wide-eyed, and began to curse.

‘It’s all right, Feng,’ Jai said.

Feng’s eyes bulged.

‘What...? They dared...’

‘It’s okay, Feng,’ Jai said again.

Feng took a deep breath, closing his eyes from the bodies. ‘Jai, the Great Council is starting earlier than they said. I should never have trusted the messenger – it’s happening right now.’

Jai took the shirt from where Lai had left it, and shrugged it on, along with his father’s armour. He didn’t bother to button it, for his chest was red with blood. He tugged on his socks, hopping from one foot to the next.

‘Listen,’ Feng said. ‘You have to delay. You’re half-dressed, and your hair isn’t braided. We can use this. I just need time to—’

‘We do this now,’ Jai snapped, pulling on his boots. ‘While the blood is still wet.’

He turned to Lai, and bowed, as was the custom of their people.

‘When this is all over, come to me. I owe you a debt.’

She smiled at him. ‘You can count on it.’

Jai ducked down, and picked up the man who had been called Wei. He humped the body onto his back, and called Winter with a thought.

‘You can come with me,’ Jai said to Feng. ‘Or go with Lai. I don’t know how tonight is going to end.’

Feng’s throat bobbed as he gulped, and he knelt and clutched Sum close.

‘Be good,’ he whispered. ‘Stay with Auntie Lai.’

Sum nodded, and he gave her a kiss upon the forehead. Feng set his jaw, and straightened his tunic, before scooping up Leonid’s diary from Jai’s rucksack.

‘I’m ready.’

THE JOURNEY TO TEJI’S grand abode was not far, yet Jai chose the long way, ensuring his grim cargo was displayed for all to witness. The dead assassin bore the weight of his stark message, slung over his shoulder in a morbid display of the dangers of crossing the returned khan.

The guards at the entrance blanched at the sight of him, but neither barred his way as he strode through, Feng and Winter on his heels.

Within, Teji’s bedchamber had been cleared away, leaving an enormous space filled with what looked like every Kidaran man and woman worth their salt. Heads turned upon his arrival, and Jai could see their kohl-darkened eyes widen at the sight of him, a bloodied, open-shirted ruffian striding down the red-carpeted corridor towards a raised throne.

Each of the Kidaran nobility was dressed in their most ostentatious finery, decadence on full display. Jewels, both precious and semiprecious, glittered from earlobes and necklines, catching the torchlight. Gold and silver bracelets encircled wrists and fingers, and every one bore the sigil and colours of their house, a menagerie of animals, flowering plants and the natural world embossed upon their attire.

A pregnant silence hung over them, the rush of murmured conversations and whispered intrigues cut short, replaced by a palpable tension that seemed to choke the air. Jai could feel their eyes boring into him, questioning his audacity, some excited, others grim and troubled.

Jai came to a halt at the end of the pathway, where the great horns of the Kidaran throne cast shadows across his face. Teji reclined there, a leg draped nonchalantly over its arm, making no move to greet him.

The Kidaran king was a picture of controlled power and inscrutable calm, fingers steepled against his lips as he watched Jai, the bloodied interloper, draw closer. His clothing was a sight to behold, all draped swathes of embroidered silks, and a crown made of khiroi teeth resting upon his head. A blue jewel of enormous size nestled in his ear, glittering in the torches arrayed behind him.

And there, beside him, was Nazeem. His hands were in constant motion, fussing with a sheaf of parchment, another adjusting the robes of his master. A silver chain hung from his neck, supporting a pendulous amulet that bore the great horned Alkhara, the crest of the Kidara tribe. At the sight of Jai, Nazeem leaned closer to Teji, a sense of urgency in his hushed whispers. His dark eyes flickered with calculation, underlined by a faint hint of trepidation.

Jai let the corpse fall, the grim thud against the rug all the greeting he offered. The audience rippled with gasps, the grisly sight breaking the decorum of the regal gathering.

‘You do not kneel for your khan?’ Nazeem demanded, his voice like slick oil.

‘Whom do you ask?’ Jai replied. ‘Our dear regent? Or the true heir, returned?’

Nazeem faltered, his eyes bulging at Jai’s forthright words. The devious man had once again underestimated him it seemed.

‘So kind of my uncle to greet me so,’ he called to Teji, for the benefit of the onlookers. ‘He sent five men to warmly welcome me during my bath, unarmed and unprepared.’

He looked directly at Teji now.

‘Only five?’

With a defiant lift of his chin, he slapped his chest.

‘It will take more than that, Uncle, to usurp my throne.’

Teji finally rose, his hands raised in an attempt to quell the rising chaos. His command was met with almost instantaneous silence. It was clear, Jai’s uncle still held sway in this court.

‘Which men?’ Teji asked, his voice strangely different without the booze slurring his tongue. ‘This is the first I hear of it.’

‘Who else would want me dead?’ Jai called out. ‘The Sabines? So soon, after my arrival? Perhaps a little bird flew to Latium and back, to tell of it?’

‘Quite,’ Nazeem said, nodding gravely.

There was laughter in the audience, enough for Nazeem to cast a glare until it silenced.

‘I have come for my throne,’ Jai called out. ‘My claim is greater than yours. Everyone here knows it. Do you deny it?’

Teji responded with a hearty laugh, throwing his head back in apparent amusement. ‘Oh, what an entertaining spectacle this boy has arranged,’ he commented, rising to his feet with Nazeem’s assistance. ‘I can only apologise to my esteemed guests for this diversion.’

Jai stood in silence, crossing his arms. Blood pooled at Jai’s feet, and Teji wrinkled his nose in distaste.

‘What you see before you is an imposter. Bought and paid for by the Sabines.’ He turned his gaze to Feng. ‘No more my brother’s son than this lapdog, who lied to us so prettily in his audience.’

Feng stiffened at the accusation, but remained silent as Jai laid a calming hand. He sent a thought to Winter, and the dragon let out a deep rumble, enough to quell the murmuring of the nobles behind. A reminder of the lies that dripped from Teji’s tongue, for Winter might be strange, but she was evidence enough that Jai was no imposter.

Jai turned, and pulled his shirt wide, displaying his father’s breastplate upon his bloodied chest.

‘My uncle would paint me as Emperor Titus’s pawn, sent here to usurp him. Why, pray tell, would Titus need another pawn when he already commands one? Do enlighten us, dear Uncle. Tell them of our peace mission with the Sabines.’

The tent was still as a grave then. Teji cleared his throat, his mouth forming and reforming words, until Nazeem stepped forward, raising his hands for a silence that was already there.

‘A breastplate, even one of Damantine steel, is an easy forgery. Your dragon is simply proof of payment for your crimes. Your brothers hardly knew you. We’ve heard of you here, though. Leonid’s arsewiper. A preening peacock. Is that who you would call upon to be your khan?’

This last question, he addressed to the crowd, and Jai knew Nazeem had struck a chord. Yet Jai stood proud, letting Winter’s growl show his displeasure.

‘Who do you call khan now? Is it the one who sent my brothers and I there?’ Jai demanded. ‘Who agreed to the so-called peace terms that left tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters in fetters? This coward. A traitor to my father’s name.’

Nazeem derisively spat to the side at Jai’s words, and now it was Jai who held up a hand for quiet as the uproar began again. It came slowly, but it came. He had them. They were listening.

‘Let me get this straight,’ Jai uttered, letting disdain colour his words. ‘Titus allowed me to slay Leonid and abscond with his bride and a rare dragon. All to take a throne that is already mine by right?’

‘And murdered your own brothers,’ Teji interjected. ‘Beloved Arjun, and Samar. An exchange of life for life. You cleared his path to the throne, and he cleared yours.’

Jai responded with a hollow laugh, ‘And then this supposed puppet master sends assassins after me? Isn’t that your implication?’

He nudged the lifeless assassin with his foot, leaving Teji flustered. With false conviction he murmured, ‘The Sabines know I am reasonable. You... you are nothing but a rabid dog.’

‘Which is it?’ Jai demanded. ‘A preening peacock or a rabid dog? A Sabine target or their puppet? Why send me all this way, only to have me murdered?’

This even Nazeem had no answer for.

But Jai did.

‘I have bled, and fought, and killed to be here. I have clawed my way out of the dark pit you threw me into. Watched my brothers choke on their own blood, watched the life drain from their eyes. Killed the Lion of the Sabines, our people’s greatest nemesis. Travelled the length and breadth of an empire, broken the chains of the great gaol of Porticus. Survived captivity, survived assassins sent by my own kin, with nowt but my bare hands.’

He mounted the throne’s raised platform, and turned to address his people.

‘I am your king, by blood, by oath and by right. I bring you the body of my would-be killer, the diaries of our age-old foe, the breastplate that still bears my father’s blood, and a dragon from our allies in the next Great War. What does Teji give you? Lies, nothing more.’

Nazeem held up a finger.

‘But you are riteless,’ he said. ‘No more a man than a babe on his mother’s teat.’

To Jai’s surprise, this drew consternation. Feng joined Jai on the platform, as if sensing Jai’s confidence wavering.

‘And what chance has he had to be rited?’ Feng called out. ‘Was he supposed to Rite into the Tainted tribe that broke the Pact to capture him?’

Now men and women stood at the back of the tribe. Shouts of ‘nay’ and ‘no’ were audible, even amid the tumult of voices.

‘He will lead you to ruin!’ Teji bellowed, bringing his fists crashing down on the throne armrests. ‘This riteless pup is a warmonger, drunk on revenge. As if he does not already have enough blood on his hands. I will not stand by, and let our people suffer.’

‘Drunk?’ Jai spat. ‘Careful, Uncle. Lest you call the kettle black.’

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Teji rose, levelling a pudgy finger at Jai, then swung his gaze towards Nazeem, as if seeking approval. The vizier gave a barely perceptible nod.

‘If you wish to follow him into war, then I will abide by the rules of our people,’ he said. ‘But I have no desire to see the Kidara die for a lost cause. I renounce you, Jai, and whoever would follow you.’

And with that he stood, and allowed Nazeem to hand him the paper the vizier had been holding.

Teji straightened and accepted the parchment Nazeem proffered. With a flourish, he struck off his crown, allowing it to clatter upon the floor.

‘I hereby announce my severance from the Kidara tribe. I will depart, as is my right, establishing my own tribe, as permitted by the Pact. All those who wish to accompany me are welcome. But before you choose, think carefully. Remember, my khiroi and wealth go with me. It was Rohan who left this tribe in a state of frailty and penury. Claim your inheritance then, boy. What is mine leaves with me.’

And just like that... the council descended into chaos.