Saemon choked, and stumbled back. Shivers racked his body. The Sheng knew this creature well.
The Gube. The mysterious, strange bird had appeared one other devastating, terrifying time in his life. The Horat-Vu war.
While men lay dying, having given their lives to stop the evil Shuran clan, the Gube had swooped through and around the battlefields, winging around the fields of dying men like a harbinger of doom. Its gray feathers had gleamed despite the dying light of day, the air full of thick smoke arising from fires within the ravaged cities.
Not once in the Horat-Vu war had the Gube looked at Saemon. It had only flown around, seeking others.
Death. Everyone knew that the Gube brought death.
Saemon pressed a fist to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "What was the rest? The rest of the words," he hissed into the night.
Below, the sounds of battle increased. Someone's scream turned into a gurgle. Saemon frantically searched the darkness of his mind, casting through the old memories and repeating the initial refrain to himself again and again.
"A veil of crimson cloaks the moon. A veil of . . ."
The words died on his lips. He straightened with a gasp, and supplied the words that came next with a faint whisper.
"The herald of the blackest night returns. Heed his mournful wail."
The herald.
The Gube.
An ear-splitting shriek broke the night, peeling through the air. Saemon clasped his hands over his ears with a cry as the Gube continued its hair-raising scream, and he fell to his knees.
Once the Gube finished, Saemon shot to his feet, rushing from the room.
"Guards!" he called, signaling the closest man. "We are under attack. Send Captain Jurobei to my chamber. Tell him to activate the Karu unit."
Saemon sucked in a sharp breath.
"We will be fighting for our lives."
Ren
Despite the cool marble floor and magnificent beauty of the imperial palace, Ren kept her eyes down and focused on the designs in the floor. The top edges of her slippers barely peeked out from underneath her hem with every careful step she took.
Behind her, the slight shuffle of her maids filled the strangely empty silence. When Isao had parted from her, turning to head down his own hall, the new couple had peeled away from each other without a word. Ren had wondered if she should have said something, then realized she didn't have the strength to try.
Halfway to her room, she noticed a vase on a pedestal. Intricate glass beads covered its outside in a swirling design of color meant to mimic the stars in the night sky. Ren paused, staring at it and feeling as small as one of the glass beads.
Small. Stuck in her place. Here because of the interplay of greater forces.
Ren blinked, the heaviness in her chest threatening to consume her.
Had it actually happened? Had she willingly married someone whom she didn't care for? Was her life knit with a total stranger? And, what would he say if he knew she had feelings for another?
Before these morose thoughts could consume her, a figure emerged from the shadows off to the right. Ren’s maids sucked in sharp breaths, then let them out.
Ren straightened, her eyes assessing the approaching figure until she spied a familiar head of short-cropped red hair in the flickering of the torchlights.
“Ren. Darling sister.”
Yuna lifted a hand, pressing it to Ren’s cheek and giving her a warm smile. Her fingertips caressed Ren’s skin softly.
“You look so sad, Ren. And this is your wedding day.”
Ren swallowed the lump in her throat. “I am happy to assist my clan.”
“Isao seems to be a good man. He will, no doubt, be a strong leader for the Empire. What more could you ask for?”
Ren nodded in assent, but said nothing more. She cast her eyes back to the ground, unable to meeting Yuna’s burning, cerulean gaze.
Yuna put her hand under Ren’s chin, nudging it higher. “Will you be so sad forever? Surely, your future cannot be as bleak as this.”
“Not forever. No.”
“Chin up, sister. There is much to celebrate.”
The words, spoken in an even, alluring cadence, settled the worst of Ren’s nerves, although her heart still ached. There was so much Yuna didn’t – couldn’t – know.
The bleak world that awaited her. A lonely one, filled with nights shared with a man whom she didn’t love. She would be forced to dream of the one she did for the rest of her life.
Eventually, her love’s memory would fade. Tear and shred as easily as the skin of an onion.
“Yes. There is much to celebrate,” Ren intoned, deliberately shedding such thoughts.
Yuna’s lips curved into a tilted smile. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve had a long day, and much has happened. Get some rest, and you’ll feel much better afterward. Everything always looks better in the morning, doesn’t it?”
Ren managed a small smile, exhaling a deep, heavy breath. Yuna was right. Everything looked darker through the lens of exhaustion.
“Yes, Yuna. You’re quite right.”
Yuna’s eyes lit up with a smile. “Yes. Yes, I usually am. Sleep well, sister.” She
ran her thumb across the apple of Ren’s cheek, then glided off into the shadows without a sound.
Ren watched her go until she disappeared into the darkness, seemingly at one with the night.
Upon Yuna’s departure, Ren’s maids seemed to come back to life .
“Come,” one urged, directing the bride down her hall. “We are almost there.”
In the privacy of her bedroom, Ren disrobed, letting the heavy dress drop to the floor. She was grateful to be ride of the long swaths of crimson silk.
After Ren briefly soaked in a quick, cool bath filled with rose petals, she got out. Her maids draped a loose robe around her, pulled her hair into a comfortable braid, and set out a fresh glass of water by her bed.
Darkness gathered again in Ren’s heart as she climbed into bed. It grew into an infinitely painful lump the size of which the universe could never measure.
With a wave, Ren dismissed her maids. They filed out the door, where they would wait in the hall for the rest of the night. Ren fell back on the downy mattress and grabbed the edges of her blankets. They were made from the soft fur of a silver mountain bear. Ren pulled them tight around her. Ensconced in their weight, she tucked her head into her chest and cried.
“My heart will always be yours,” she whispered.
Tears fell off her cheek, dropping onto the furs with a heavy plop.
Ren pulled a blanket over her face, crying into it until sleep claimed her.
Rakesh
The whispers of the crowd echoed through the square. “The whips!” they cried. “The Hangman will bring out the whips.”
“No, the chains. He’ll bring out the chains. They’re one of his favorites these days.”
“He hasn’t used the chains in months.”
“It’s going to be the whips. They have glass in them, you know. Embedded at the ends. It’ll shred skin on contact.”
“Yes. But the heavy weight of chains digging into the back is far worse. Chains bruise and break, not just rip. Most people don’t recover from chains. Whips? It can happen.”
From where he stood in the stocks, his head and hands shoved through tight holes that dug painfully into his skin, Rakesh stared straight ahead and tried desperately not to hear the words being uttered by those who had come to watch the spectacle.
With every bite of the whip into the skin on his back, Rakesh tried not to moan. The resulting pain numbed his mind, and everything around him now seemed to be happening at a distance.
The pain consumed him. Like fire, it licked up his back in long, burning flames.
The city square was crowded today, with even the most fearful and downtrodden having left their dank holes and hovels to gather and watch.