“What is your name?” Isao asked in a gentle tone.
The question took her by surprise. She whipped her head around to find Isao staring at her, eyebrows lifted and an intent expression on his face. She hesitated, thinking about the calluses on her hands and the dirt caking her body.
She’d never given the Emperor nor his son a second thought except to hate them when she saw them, but now that she stood in front of him and sensed no judgment from his gaze, she wished she didn’t appear quite so . . . slovenly.
“Celty,” she murmured, giving her dry lips a lick.
“Celty. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”
She swallowed, unsure of what to say now. The sound of her name on his lips sent a little thrill through her, but she brushed it aside.
The clop of hooves on the cobblestone road followed. General Khalem appeared, pulling along two horses by their reins. The horses jerked at the reins, their eyes wide. They pranced to the side, commanding all of Khalem’s attention to keep them under control.
Once he came to a stop, he pressed a hand to their necks, saying something to them under his breath. The horses calmed.
Isao stepped toward Celty. “Come with us,” he said.
Khalem whipped around. “Isao!” he objected fiercely.
Isao ignored the outcry, his eyes not straying from Celty’s face.
She hesitated, staring at the hand he was offering her.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You need to escape as well as I do, and you can’t stay in the city. There’s no one who can protect you better than Khalem.”
She tilted her head back. “I can protect myself, thank you very much.”
His eyes darted to the stable and back in silent rebuttal.
She swallowed. He was correct: Without his help, she’d be burning alive right now.
As the heat of the nearby fire warmed her skin, she couldn’t dispute the power of what he’d given her.
Another chance at life.
Freedom from bondage.
“We only have two horses,” Khalem barked. “We can’t slow our pace for another person. She’s free. We’ve already saved her life twice. She can go take care of herself now. We cannot trust people we don’t know at a time like this!”
Celty lifted her eyebrows toward Khalem as she said in a measured tone, “He’s not wrong, you know.”
Isao shook his head, peering into her eyes. “I don’t care. I want you to come with us.”
Khalem mounted the tallest horse, grimacing as he swung into the saddle. He put a hand to his shoulder, rubbing at it again.
Celty stepped away from Isao, backing away toward the street.
“I don’t need you,” she said, using the rough, common dialect of Saman. Surely he wouldn’t know the language of the common people, she thought. “Go away with your General and protect yourself. I can take care of myself now.”
He responded in Saman. “No.”
She growled. “Give up, already! I’m not going to go with you.”
“You will.”
“I don’t need anyone! I’m no beggar who asks for help and can’t care for herself.”
“No one said you were.” Isao twitched his hand. “Come.”
“Isao – ” Khalem growled.
“Come, Celty,” Isao interrupted. “I know we can trust you. I can feel it. You’ll die out here alone, and I don’t want that to happen. Not now. You have to come. I won’t leave without you.”
“You’re mad.”
“No. I’m quite sane.” He reached forward, gently clasping her wrist with his hand.
She stared at his hand, at the spot where it touched the skin on the inside of her wrist. On its own cue, her arm jerked back, but he held on.
His grip was firm, but not painful, she thought.
Celty opened her mouth, but closed it again.
Would he really be so stubborn for someone like her?
Isao didn’t take his eyes off her, his expression steady and certain. His confidence took her breath away.
She grabbed his hand with hers and leaned in toward him, closing the space until they were eye-to-eye.
Something warm and comforting filled her body, and slowed her secretly terrified, racing heart. The unease of the past couple of days trickled away.
A thought stirred in her mind. Go with him.
Celty swallowed hard, and made a decision.
He offered safety and freedom. Wasn’t that what she had craved all of her life…what she could remember of it, anyway?
“Fine. I will go,” she whispered shakily. “I will help protect you if I can. I don’t know what you’re running from, or why . . . but I will assist you as a way of repaying you for what you’ve done for me.”
“All right!” Khalem conceded, shaking his head. “Just get on the horse so we can leave already. The Ameyas are continuing to slaughter all whom they encounter.”
With surprising dexterity Isao sprang onto the horse, then offered an outstretched hand to Celty. She accepted. He helped pull her up onto the horse.
She settled on the steed behind him, feeling a bit uneasy.
“Hold onto me tightly,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to fall off and get hurt.”
She blinked. No one had ever been concerned about her wellbeing before.
After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist. His body was lean and firm, a reassuring pillar at a time when everything around them was falling apart.
“Let’s go!” Khalem said, spurring his horse.
As Isao guided his steed past the entrance to the burning stable, Celty’s gaze caught on a pile of bodies in front. She blinked, started to recognize Jin pinned beneath Goro and a mutilated horse. She frowned, her gazing linger on Jin’s young body. Goro deserved whatever death he met, that filthy, disgusting man. But not Jin. Jin wasn’t like the rest of them. He was like…her. He deserved better than a grave of stinking horse innards on a field of death.
If Jin had just listened. . .
Celty discarded this thought with a shake of her head.
If Jin had listened to her, they may not even be alive. They may have been killed or worse. She would never start on this new adventure that might take her away from a life of slavery.
And a prince and his general were going to lead the way.
General Khalem led them south out of the city.
The two men pushed the horses as fast as they could, cantering down the broad road and leaving the battle and the fires far behind. Many times they swerved to avoid corpses along the road.
Soon enough, the city was out of sight. Celty hoped never to return to it.
The red moon overhead illuminated their escape route as they continued on. The light of the strange moon seemed to be racing after them, chasing them out of the city.
Azuma
Azuma Nari gazed around the throne room of the Jade Cradle palace with a grim sense of satisfaction. The thrill he had experienced so far from subduing his enemies was unparalleled.
Victory for the Nari clan is imminent, he thought, if my men can just keep these battles going in our favor.
“Go,” he commanded his remaining soldiers. “Make sure any Ameyas you find are dead, and if they are not, take their lives!”
Azuma glanced out a high window as the soldiers departed with the clank of armor. He could see soldiers from the Imperial Army charging into the courtyard. These Hiwan soldiers had been located a distance away from the palace, and unlike their brothers had not been affected by the burning of the Dhul powder. And indeed, they plunged into the fray, fighting energetically and with great skill.
A few of the Hiwan soldiers slipped through the outer boundaries and came sprinting into the palace.
At the sight, Azuma turned around to move to the top of the throne room. Here, Sheng Saemon – the former Emperor – lay on his back, his face slack and blood dripping down his side. When the sound of rushing feet sounded in the corridor outside, Azuma dropped to one knee next to the old Emperor, recalling the plan.
This would work, he thought. There was no way it could fail.
When the group of Hiwan soldiers stormed in, Azuma threw his head back with a wail.
“It’s Sheng Saemon!” he cried in dismay. “NO!”