Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
Intrigued, Ashinji followed the akuta to the far end of the yard where another barracks stood.
“This is where the veteran females bunk,” Aruk-cho explained. He paused before the curtained entrance. “Gran!” he called out. “Gran...There is someone here to see you!” The curtain twitched aside and an old woman poked her head out, squinting in the sunlight.
“What do you want, you big ugly beast!” the woman scolded. “Can’t you see I’m trying to take my nap…Oh!”
Ashinji’s eyes widened in shock.
The old woman was an elf.
The Key To The Conspiracy
Silence and the musty smell of places long shut away from the sun surrounded Prince Raidan. As he strode along, the lantern in the prince’s hand cast crazy shadows on the frost-rimed stone walls; his breath rose in thin puffs of steam from his lips and nostrils.
The prince had chosen the location for his secret conferences with care. This part of Sendai Castle had been closed up and abandoned years ago during his father’s childhood. As a boy, Raidan had stumbled upon a hidden doorway into the block of rooms by accident, during an expedition of discovery. He had revealed his secret to no one, not even his brothers.
Raidan reached the end of the corridor and paused at what appeared to be a blank wall. Raising the lantern to eye level, he located and twisted aside a round metal disk covering a spy hole. He placed one eye to the hole and looked into an adjacent corridor. A group of people stood in a nervous clutch opposite Raidan’s position.
Good. They’re all here
, he thought.
He fitted his fingers into a set of depressions in the stone and triggered the releasing mechanism, then pulled the hidden door open. He stepped through and motioned for the others to enter. Silently, they obeyed, and followed the prince as he led them to their meeting room.
Raidan had already prepared the room beforehand. Several lanterns dangled from wall hooks, their flames flickering in the drafts from the ventilation shafts set high in the walls; braziers burned in each corner, providing some small respite from the biting cold.
After everyone had taken their seats, Raidan sat for several moments, silently studying the faces of his supporters. He thought about the underlying motives that had driven each of them to endanger all they had to stand behind him and against their king.
Morio of Ayame and Coronji of Tohru, brothers-in-law and unrepentant racists, would both rather see Alasiri plunged into civil war than accept a hikui as their queen. Saizura of Kinat, the oldest of Alasiri’s great lords, worried more about propriety than purity. She objected to Keizo’s daughter because the girl had been born outside of a legal marriage.
Seitan of Ograi owes his position to me,
thought Raidan. He had convinced the king to name Seitan as Lord over an older sister who had proved herself unfit to run the fiefdom after the death of their mother.
Seitan will support me unquestioningly.
Odata of Tono worried most about the reaction of the hikui populace to the naming of a hikui Heir. She feared the impetus it would give to the hikui movement for social equality.
Ebo of Suiren had agreed to back Raidan for one reason only. Recently widowed and without an Heir, her price for her support had been simple—a child sired by an Onjara. Raidan had accepted, and his middle son, Kaisik, would perform the service upon his next birthday, when he would officially come of age. The boy was handsome, cheerful, and above all, obedient—a stark contrast to his brooding older brother, Raidu. Ebo would, no doubt, find him more than acceptable.
“Let me begin by thanking you all once more for your support,” Raidan said. “I pray each day that there will be no need to call upon it. I, more than anyone else in this room, wish to avoid open confrontation with my brother, especially during this time of extreme danger to our nation. Civil conflict right now would only aid our enemies and hasten the demise of the elves as a free people.”
“Yet, you clearly are willing to take the risk, if necessary. Why else bring us all here?” Morio responded with a voice roughened by years of pipe smoking.
“None of us wants war among ourselves, but neither do we wish to see one of impure blood ascend the throne of Alasiri. There must be a better solution,” Ebo added.
“She’s a bastard, plain and simple! How could Keizo have elevated her to such a high station?” Saizura fretted. “He should have just dealt with the girl quietly, provided her with a settlement and sent her packing back to Kerala.” The elderly Lady of Kinat sliced the air scornfully with her bird’s claw of a hand.
“My brother, so far, has given no indication that he intends to name my niece Heir over me. However, she and Keizo have become very close, and before she lost her husband, she was demonstrating a keen interest in statecraft. Even I have to admit she showed great promise. Now, she is too wrapped up in her grief to do much more than get through each day. And, of course, there is her child to consider.”
“Perhaps…an accident could be arranged,” Coronji suggested. “It would certainly take care of things. I volunteer to do the job.” His lips curled in a tiny smile, and Raidan thought of a snake anticipating the feast of a mouse.
The prince’s eyes flashed. “Whatever else she is, she is an Onjara and not some common by-blow that can be disposed of in a back alley!” His anger, he knew, arose from the fact that Coronji had dared speak openly of the very thing the prince himself had already considered.
“I apologize if I have given any offense, Highness,” Coronji said, but his tone indicated he believed Raidan’s outrage to be little more than pretense.
“Tell us your plan, Highness. Just what do you intend to do if the king should decide to elevate his bastard over you?” Odata queried.
“My plan is simple,” Raidan replied. “If Keizo decides to name Jelena his Heir, he will tell me first. He owes me that courtesy. I will then inform him, without naming any of you, that I have the support of over half the council, standing in opposition to his decision. I will also point out that the elven people won’t accept a hikui as queen, no matter that she is the daughter of their beloved Silverlock.
“My brother has ruled Alasiri wisely and well. He always takes into consideration the will of the people when making any decision that affects them, and this decision would have a profound effect. I believe he will understand this, and reconsider.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Odata pressed. “You said yourself that Silverlock and the girl have forged a very deep bond. Is there a possibility that he may not listen to reason?”
“Yes, there is,” Raidan answered slowly, “and if he won’t, then I’ll threaten him. Faced with the defection of half his lords and their levies, he’ll have to see the folly of his course. The loss of so many troops will be devastating to the army. The Soldarans already outnumber us. Sen Sakehera is an excellent commander, but even he couldn’t mount a defense with so few bodies. Keizo will realize he is risking the defeat and conquest of all of Alasiri. He won’t allow that.”
“You seem so sure, Highness.” Seitan, who until now had remained silent, finally spoke up. “You know the mind of the king far better than any of us, but are you
certain?
”
Raidan scanned the tense faces around him. He could feel the emotions of each blowing back at him like the dry wind off a wildfire: fear, anger, resignation.
Am I sure of my brother?
he thought.
No, not entirely, but I am sure of myself.
If Keizo will not listen, there’s only one thing I can do to save Alasiri. It’s extreme, but desperate times call for extreme measures. I’ll kill Jelena with my own hand, if necessary, then step aside, and the Kirians’ plans be damned. Raidu will become Keizo’s Heir.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said.
~~~
Raidan made his way back to his apartments through the late night stillness of the castle. The prince had always thought of Sendai Castle as something more than an inanimate structure; it felt like a living organism, with stone flesh and wooden bones. All of the myriad souls who made their homes within its walls were like the impossibly tiny disks he observed floating in his own blood when he examined it with his lenses. He didn’t know the exact function of the mysterious disks, but he knew they must somehow keep his body alive, just as all the maids, cooks, gardeners, grooms, and countless other workers kept the castle ‘alive’.
He paused outside the entrance to listen and thought he could hear the great fortress slowly, slowly, exhaling.
“What, still awake, Wife?” Raidan said as he entered the day room and saw Taya sitting on the couch, a thick book in her hands. She laid the frayed volume down on her lap and silently watched as he crossed the room to settle at her side. “You look troubled,” he murmured, then brushed her lips with his. She sighed. “What is it?” he asked.
“You’ve come from a meeting with your supporters.”
“Yes,” he replied.
She frowned, angry now. “Husband, you are playing a dangerous game! If Keizo discovers you’ve been plotting against him…”
Raidan held up his hand to silence her. “I am not plotting against my brother. I’m putting into place a plan that just might avert a civil war.”
“Your plan calls for killing Keizo’s daughter. That, Husband, you cannot do. It would mean utter disaster!” Taya’s green eyes blazed with warning.
Raidan felt his temper give way. “Damn it, Taya!” he growled. “What would you have me do? Stand by passively while my brother disinherits me and our son? No, let me speak!” he demanded as Taya opened her mouth to respond. “You know I trust you completely, but the time has come when blind trust is not enough. I must have a sound reason for staying my hand. Jelena harbors important magic, and the Kirians need her for a vital ritual, one that will safeguard our world as we know it…This much you’ve told me, but I
know
there’s more to it!” He met Taya’s hard-eyed stare with one of his own. “If you want my cooperation, Wife, then tell me the entire truth now.”
Taya rested a hand on the book in her lap. She stared down at its faded brown leather cover for several moments before she spoke. “I will tell you everything now, because you have a right to know, but from this day forward, you are sworn to our cause.”
Raidan took a deep breath to both calm and prepare himself. He waited expectantly for Taya to begin.
“This book,” she tapped the cover for emphasis, “used to belong to a former head of our Society, someone who was once very powerful but is now departed. It is one of the oldest volumes of the chronicles of the Kirian Society that we have. It helped me put together the pieces of the puzzle, so I now know who, or I should say
what,
Jelena is.”
Raidan frowned. “I don’t understand. Jelena is my niece…”
“Yes, this is true…Your niece, Keizo’s daughter. But she is also something more,” Taya continued. “The girl we know as Jelena Onjara is a flesh and blood vessel—a container, if you will—for something very old and extremely powerful. This I’ve told you already.”
Raidan nodded. “The Key.”
“Yes,” Taya replied. “Jelena’s life force is intermingled with the energy of the Key, which is why she must die in order for us to remove it.” She paused for a moment, eyes pensive, before continuing. “Iku Azarasha, Master of the Kirian Society over a millennium ago, was a mage of extraordinary Talent. He was the greatest Kirian of his age…perhaps of any age. It was he who first constructed the energy pattern that allowed the Kirians to master teleportation.” Taya shook her head in frustration and regret. “Sadly, the knowledge of how to construct new portals has been lost to our generation, though we still know how to use the existing ones. There are two right here in Sendai Castle.”
“Wait.” Raidan interrupted. “You said Master Iku and the Kirians hid this Key inside Jelena, but how…how could a group of mages who lived a thousand years ago put a spell into a girl who is a mere eighteen years of age?”
“Patience, Husband. I’ll explain that part later,” Taya replied.
She lifted the frayed cover of the book and thumbed through the yellowed pages with great care, pausing at a spot about midway through. “This section chronicles the only time Alasiri was ever torn by civil war,” she explained.
“I’m familiar with the story,” Raidan commented. “We all are. My ancestor, one of the first Onjara kings, battled his daughter for the throne. He lost and his daughter had his name expunged from all official records.”
“Yes,” Taya confirmed, “but there is much more to the story than is widely known. For instance, why was the name of your ancestor wiped away, as if to delete his very existence?”
Raidan shrugged. “Vengeance?” he said.
“That’s the official reason, yes.” Taya paused, her eyes darting across the pages. “Princess Syukoe went to war against her father because of his plan to unleash a magical cataclysm upon the material world. The king was a powerful sorcerer in his own right, with a Talent that may have surpassed even Master Iku’s. The Kirians discovered what the king meant to do, and they set about trying to stop him. Master Iku was once the king’s most trusted councilor, but he threw his support behind the princess once he learned the full extent of the king’s plan.
“The king constructed a spell so powerful, it qualified as a Great Working. Such magic is hazardous in the extreme to anyone who attempts it. Many steps and safeguards are necessary to avert disaster, and even so, there is a significant failure rate. Part of the Working involved the very ring your family has used as a symbol of its royalty.”