Blood of Empire

Chapter 14

“Do you know who she really is?”

The question came unexpectedly as the Mad Lancers set up camp, fumbling in the dark around the only empty site they’d spotted for several miles. Styke looked up from lighting the tiny lantern he kept in his saddlebags to find Orz’s shadowy face staring at him hard through the darkness. It was very clear which “she” he was talking about.

Styke finished lighting his lantern. He’d found a spot on the edge of the campground for himself, and the only person within earshot was Celine. He rounded his horse, ignoring the question while he used his lantern to light Celine’s and then helped her get her saddlebags down from Margo. Once he’d finished, he returned to Amrec and hung his lantern from a tree branch overhead.

“I’m not sure if she knows who she really is,” he finally replied.

“Don’t be cryptic with me, Ben Styke,” Orz said. “I need to know.”

At first, Styke hadn’t been sure if Orz was asking because he wanted to discuss Ka-poel’s lineage or whether the dragonman wasn’t actually certain. This made it clear it was the latter. Styke opened his mouth, a reply on his tongue, and thought back to his own relation to Lindet. He’d kept that secret his entire life. “It’s not my place to say,” he finally said.

“Do you know?” There was an urgency to Orz’s tone.

“I do.”

Orz’s jaw tightened in the shadows cast by the lamp. Styke imagined that if he were anyone else, Orz would resort to casual violence to get his answers. Styke wondered if he still might, and let his hand rest lightly in his saddlebag, fist tightening around one of the extra knives in his pack. A long silence stretched between them.

“It’s something I didn’t consider important at first. A foolish oversight on my part,” Orz finally said. “I assumed that Palo had their own bone-eyes and that she was one of them.”

“They do,” Styke replied. From what he’d been told, there were a few blood sorcerers in the deep swamp, but most Palo were bone-eyes in name only – elders of the tribe, wise men and women.

“Perhaps they do. But I’ve been studying her face since we encountered those soldiers. She is not Palo. She is Dynize. I don’t know how I missed something so obvious.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Styke said. He pulled his hand from his saddlebag and worked to relieve Amrec of his burdens, setting up his bedroll and laying the saddlebags beside it.

Either Orz didn’t notice the flippant remark or he chose to ignore it. He continued, “Knowing that she is Dynize brings up so many questions. Why was she in Fatrasta? How did I not know that such a powerful bone-eye existed? Is she a member of Sedial’s cabal, broken from her master and changed sides? Is she a hidden weapon of the Fatrastans? Is she a member of another Household?”

Styke disregarded the barrage of questions and continued to work in silence, getting the saddle off Amrec and then taking some time to brush the beast down and check his hooves. Orz watched, a frustrated look in his eye, squatting at the edge of the lamplight like a creature who’d crawled out of the swamp and wasn’t certain he liked what he saw.

“If she has connections with the Dynize,” Orz voiced his thoughts again, “then she would have known about the capital. She would have known about the Jagged Fens. Did she warn you?”

“She didn’t know,” Styke answered quietly.

“She is not of Dynize, but she has a Dynize name and a Dynize face.” He scowled. “I’ve heard rumors of Dynize fleeing the mainland from the very beginning of the civil war until the very end. Is she a lost Household? Are those common in Fatrasta?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

Styke finished his work and turned to face Orz. He’d noticed that the dragonman was guarded with his expressions, choosing when to let his inner thoughts play out upon his face. At the moment he appeared deep in thought, looking inward, the wheels of his brain in motion. Nearly a minute passed and no spark of understanding appeared in the dragonman’s eyes. He straightened suddenly and snatched Styke’s lantern. “Come with me, girl. I need you to translate,” Orz said to Celine before striding across the camp.

Celine looked at Styke, startled. Styke felt his heart flutter. There was going to be a confrontation, and he needed to be there. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “But if he starts to get angry, I want you to get behind me.” They followed in the dragonman’s footsteps.

Ka-poel was down by the stream, no more than thirty yards from the edge of the camp. She was alone, sitting in the dark, her legs pulled up with arms wrapped around her knees. It was the position of a fearful child, and even with the dragonman standing above her, lantern swinging, she stared into the middle distance as if her mind was in another place.

“Ka-poel,” Orz said.

Her eyes flickered to him briefly. A finger twitched – such a small gesture, but it held the venom of a person who preferred to be left alone. What do you want? the movement demanded.

He seemed to get the gist, though if he read the subtext, he didn’t care. “I need to know who you are and what you plan to do with the godstones.”

Styke approached slowly with Celine, and urged her with one hand to move around to where she could face Ka-poel and see her hands easily. Ka-poel looked at all of them without moving her head, her expression darkening before being overtaken by something akin to resignation. Her hands flashed. It’s a long story, Celine translated for her.

Orz hunkered down next to Celine. “I have time.”

I don’t wish to discuss it right now.

“I don’t care.”

Ka-poel looked up sharply to meet Orz’s eyes, but the dragonman did not flinch away at her glare. They froze into a sort of battle of wills, and Styke found himself holding his breath, wondering which of the two would break first. If Orz made a move toward violence, Styke would need to step in. But he was also aware just how much they needed Orz’s help. He wanted to take the two of them by their collars and shake them, but he imagined that such an attempt would just earn him a pair of knives in the gut.

Neither of them broke the staring match, but slowly Ka-poel’s hands began to move.

I don’t know it all.

“Explain.”

Ka-poel hesitated. She was not nearly as good as Orz at concealing her thoughts, and her face was writ with irritation. Styke wondered if she would refuse just out of stubbornness, and found himself letting out a breath he did not know he had held once she continued.

I’m an orphan. I grew up in a Palo tribe in the Tristan Basin in western Fatrasta. I’ve always known I was different. I’ve always known that I was Dynize, and that my sorcery was strong. The rest I have only begun to piece together. She made a downward sweeping gesture of uncertainty that Celine either did not know how or did not bother to translate. Most of what I know about who I am has come in just the last few months.

“If you’re Dynize,” Orz asked, “how did you come to be in Fatrasta?”

That is one thing I’m still trying to discover.

“But you know who you are?”

Mostly. I know who, but not why. I know that my nurse brought me out of Dynize. She told me stories of wars and palaces whose names are lost to my memory. She told me to fear other bone-eyes – to fear the men of the dragon and to fear the turquoise soldiers.

Celine broke her translation for a moment and looked at Ka-poel curiously. “Dragonmen and Dynize soldiers?”

Ka-poel nodded, giving Celine a sad smile before continuing on. I know that my name is Ka-poel. I know that I have a sister named Mara. I also know that my grandfather is the bone-eye you call Ka-Sedial.

Styke looked sharply to Orz. The dragonman sank farther back on his haunches, his chin lifting slightly to regard Ka-poel down the length of his nose. If anything, he seemed more wary than alarmed by this new information. “Ka-Sedial only has one granddaughter. Her name is Ichtracia.”

Say that name again. There was an urgency to the gesture.

“Ichtracia.”

A small smile cracked Ka-poel’s weariness, and she went through a series of gestures that Celine did not translate. It took Styke a moment to realize that she was spelling out her sister’s name.

“Her name isn’t Mara,” Orz said again.

A nickname, Ka-poel explained. It’s all that I could recall. I’m not even certain whether I heard it myself or my nurse told it to me. It’s been too long. She spelled “Ichtracia” one more time with her fingers. Slowly. Fondly. She wiped something away from the corner of her eye. I have gathered rumors from the Dynize that I’ve met. Some willingly. Others… not. I have tried to piece together my own life. From what I know, Ka-Sedial had his son and daughter-in-law murdered, along with two of their three children. Ichtracia is the third child.

Orz settled back even farther until he was sitting, and he no longer looked like a man performing an interrogation but a child listening to a story. “There are rumors,” he said. “But no facts are known. Ka-Sedial’s son and his family disappeared long ago – all except Ichtracia. Supposedly they were strangled and burned for some untold treachery. Ichtracia was the only one spared.”

I am one of those two other children that were said to have died.

Orz pulled a very distinct impression of disbelief across his face. “That is quite a story.”

Do you know anything else about it? About my past? Ka-poel leaned forward eagerly.

“I don’t.” Orz made a noise in the back of his throat. “Like I said, rumors. What you’ve already heard is the unofficial story, and Ka-Sedial never gave an official one.”

Do you know who my parents were?

Orz frowned. “Distantly. I know your mother fought on my side of the civil war.” He snorted angrily. “Your mother.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I take you at your word, yet this is too fantastic to believe.”

Fantastic or not, this is my life. I’ve never known what it meant. I still don’t.

“So what are you using these soldiers for?” Orz gestured around at the Mad Lancer camp. “What hidden goals do you have? Which of them have you seeped your influence into without their knowledge?” His voice began to rise, the cadence of his speech increasing.

Styke took a long step forward, laying a hand on Celine’s shoulder. “That’s enough,” he said.

Orz shot to his feet so quickly that Styke fell back into a defensive stance. The dragonman whirled on his heel and stalked into the night without another word, leaving Styke with a mixture of anger and relief. He looked down at Ka-poel, who herself was staring in the direction that Orz had gone.

“Is this going to be a problem?” he asked.

I don’t know, she gestured. I thought he already knew who I was.

“I thought the same thing. But he didn’t, and telling him now hasn’t made him trust us any more.” Styke ground his teeth. “Why is he so angry about it?”

He doesn’t know whether to believe me. Even if he does, how can he trust me? I am Ka-Sedial’s kin. Ka-poel frowned. I think this is a very confusing time for him.

Styke tapped the side of his lantern, staring off into the dark after Orz. “I really hope he’s still here when we wake up in the morning.”