Chapter Twenty-Two The Emperor

The emperor surveyed the expanse between the encampment and the border hills. Brittle grasses filled the slope. On the other side of that rise was the desert. “Tell me about the prisoners who escaped,” he said.

“Two women,” one of his lieutenants said. Several other lieutenants stood silently at attention. “One of them was blind. The other needed to be subdued. They claimed to be from the Silk Clan and Scorpion Clan—”

Hairs on the back of the emperor’s neck prickled. Mulaf had stolen the deities from both of those clans. They slept in their diamond statues inside the emperor’s tent. “Did either of them have tattoos on their arms?”

“I do not know. Your Imperial Majesty, please accept my apologies. Interrogation of a blind woman and her companion was not a priority.” Fist over his heart, he bowed low.

“I should have been informed of their capture immediately,” the emperor said. The prisoners had been taken only a few hours before Liyana walked into his camp. He didn’t believe in coincidences. “Why was this not brought to my attention?”

The lieutenant fell to his knees. “Forgive—”

“Stand,” the emperor said crisply. “Answer my question.”

“We often apprehend desert men who stray too close to the border,” he said, rising. His head hung low like a dog who had been struck. “We did not think it warranted Your Imperial Majesty’s attention—”

“You were mistaken.”

The lieutenant cringed and began to babble. “Until their escape, there did not seem to be anything unusual . . .”

The emperor breathed deeply and pictured the lake as the soldier continued to rattle through excuses. As always, the lake calmed him. “Demote this man. Devote resources to recapturing these women. Alive. Bring them directly to me when you have found them.”

Another lieutenant saluted. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”

The emperor strode back toward his tent. Everything inside him shouted to run, but his people could not see their emperor afraid. Compromising, he lengthened his stride. It had been a strategic move to leave Liyana alone. She valued her independence, and he wanted to demonstrate that he would not seek to control or force her, or her clans. He pushed open the tent flap and halted.

She lay alone in the center of the tent. Beautiful and peaceful, she could have been asleep. “Summon a doctor,” he ordered his guards. He felt his heart beat painfully in his chest. In two strides he was beside her. He knelt and pressed his fingers to the pulse in her neck.

She moaned. Alive.

“Stay back, Your Imperial Majesty,” one of his guards said. “We don’t know the cause.”

The goat statue lay beside her. Its neck was severed. She must have used the sky serpent blade. This was his fault. He’d returned it to her. “Summon the magician as well.”

One of the guards bowed and exited.

He stroked her forehead. Breaking the false vessel should not have hurt her. If she had conducted the ceremony . . . But how could she have without a magician? And why would she have? He had offered her freedom! Life on the desert was bleak and cruel. He’d offered all her people an escape. She could have led them to a better life.

He felt her pulse again. Faint but there.

A doctor burst into the tent. He wore an ill-fitting uniform. A protective surgical cloth obscured his face. All that the emperor could see was his eyes, but those eyes quickly assessed the situation. Without a word the doctor knelt next to Liyana and began examining her. She was breathing shallowly. Every few seconds she twitched and moaned.

The emperor paced around them. He picked up the broken statue and turned it over and over in his hands. Spasming, Liyana screamed, and the emperor hurled the statue against the wall of the tent. It smacked against the tarp and tumbled down. In a calm voice he said, “This was an unnecessary waste of a life.”

“She still lives,” the doctor said. “But I must take her to my tent. I have supplies and equipment there that may be of use.” He waved a hand. Three doctor’s assistants, also dressed in blue uniforms with the traditional face coverings, scurried forward with a stretcher. They loaded Liyana onto it.

“Accompany them,” he ordered the nearest soldier. “Ask her name when she wakes. If she answers ‘Liyana,’ return her to me. If she answers ‘Bayla,’ kill her immediately.”

She was carried out of the tent, and he turned away to face his shelves of statues. He touched his cheek. It was damp. Absently he rubbed his tears between his fingers and thumb. Funny that he should mourn the loss of one desert woman while he prepared his army to invade. In the end, though, eliminating the deities would free the desert people. They would see that their best course was to join the empire. In the end they would be grateful.

“Alert my generals,” the emperor said. His eyes were clear. “We move out at dawn.”

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