"I know."
Isao fumed, hating himself for his naiveté. Surely anyone but a sheltered prince would have known instinctively that they weren't fleeing for only a few hours. He should have known that.
Isao bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling.
"It's too risky," Khalem said, eyeing him from the corner of his eye. "Too much could go wrong."
"But my father!"
Khalem shot him a cold glance. "Your father will not die, young Sheng. He is the Emperor of Marugan and the great hero of the Horat-Vu war. He can take care of himself without you there to fight for him. Don't insult him."
Isao's nostrils flared. "I never thought you to be a coward, Khalem," he bit out.
"It is not cowardice to save ourselves. You, Isao, are now the most important person in the Empire. They'll know that you escaped, and everyone will be trying to track you down to kill you."
"It's not right. I should be there helping my people fight. The city of An Wan was burning! Even if I can't save my father, perhaps I could save some of the people! Didn't you teach me how to lead? Didn't you teach me how to fight? How to evade?" He clenched the reins with a white-knuckled grip. "And now I'm running…like a coward."
"You are the only hope for the Empire!" Khalem barked. "Do not insult me, for I have taken direct orders from your father. He commanded me to take you and flee. To keep you alive on this bloody night. My first duty is to serve him without question and without fault. It is my duty. This is my life."
Isao silenced, buffeted by equal parts rage and shame. What kind of leader fled at the first sign of trouble? How could he be the only hope for the Empire?
None of it made sense, and attempting to figure it out only made his head spin. He swallowed, his throat still raw from all the smoke. He longed for a cool drink of water. He longed to speak with his father. Gain his sage advice, his reassuring words.
But none of that would be possible for some time.
"Now," Khalem said, his voice calm, "we continue on our current path until we find some place safe enough for us to regroup and make a new plan. The horses will need rest, and so will we."
Another long silence fell, broken only by the clop of the horses. Celty didn’t shift a muscle behind Isao. She seemed unnaturally still and calm, as if she'd never been frightened before, and Isao envied her even temperament.
He schooled himself back into control. Yet, no matter how hard he fought to control his thoughts, to breathe through his rage, there remained a sadness that refused to fade.
"Why did this happen, Khalem?" he asked, not even realizing the question was there until it came out. He hated himself for sounding like a little boy, but he couldn't hide the despair. "Why was the Ameya clan attacking? Why the Nari?"
"Hatred is the strongest poison."
"Who could hate us so much?"
Khalem sighed, his barrel chest lifting and falling. For the first time that night, something like regret softened his hard features.
"Hatred has many catalysts, young Sheng. It most often starts with a lust for power, or a deep-rooted envy that takes over one's life. In the Nari clan, however, it likely began with the thirst for revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Your father killed a member of the Nari clan during the Horat-Vu war. A man named Wu. The Naris have been resentful ever since. I think they fostered their vindictiveness for years, until it became too strong to control. I may be wrong – they may just be a power-hungry people – but it often goes so much deeper than that."
Isao's shoulders slumped. "Oh. I . . . I didn't know about that."
"Your father never liked speaking about the Horat-Vu war."
"No, he didn't."
A pang struck Isao's heart. He hoped he still had time to discuss it with his father later, after all of this settled down. He wondered, for a brief flash, what Celty thought of all this, but decided against asking her. He had a feeling that her wild spirit didn't care much about details such as this. She didn't seem like the type of girl to hold deep alliances to political factions, and certainly no slave had the time or free ability to do so.
"One day I will tell you more," Khalem said. "But for now, there's no time for memories, only focus and concentration. If we want to hide our trail better, we need to move away from the main path. If I'm correct, there's a stream not far away. We will have the horses walk through that for a while, just in case."
Isao nodded once, grateful to turn the lead over to Khalem. He wasn't surprised that Khalem didn't explain more; it wasn't like him to remove his focus from the immediate goal. Isao had once found this quality in the General nearly intolerable, but tonight he derived deep comfort from it: If he had to be running with anyone, he would want it to be Khalem.
"I have an idea for a place to go," Khalem said. "We'll need to decide soon if we're going to do so."
"What is it?" Isao asked.
"We could ask the support of the Ular clan in the nation of Isan. They are the White Snake clan, as you know, and their ruler is Juben Ular. He’s a longtime friend of your father; they were like brothers. I'm certain he will help us without question."
A warm wave of hope rippled through Isao, giving him a moment's reprieve from the pressing hopelessness. He knew Juben. He would help.
"Yes," Isao murmured. "His first born son is Kamon. We used to play together as children, when the clan rulers met in the capital for meetings and ceremonies. I know they will honor that friendship and bond."
Khalem shifted in his seat, grimacing when he moved his right shoulder. "There's only one problem."
"Oh?"
"Ular’s city, Havin, is far from here. We have to proceed toward the southeastern border of Sunsan and then cross the Shonin Mountain Pass."
Celty perked up. "Ah," she drawled. "The cannibal pass."
Khalem sent her a glare. "Don't be dramatic."
"What is this?" Isao asked. "What cannibals?"
Although he couldn't see her, Isao thought he could feel her grin.
"The Shonin Mountain Pass is notorious for several things," she said. "It's very rocky, with hard terrain and high cliffs. Not exactly an ideal ground to pass through. Worse than that, however, are the rumors of cannibals that live there. A fierce tribe of them, I hear. The slaves used to speak about them all the time. No one goes there unless they have to. Terrifying, really, to imagine another human feasting on your flesh."
A light trill flowed from her voice, as if she delighted in such a macabre story.
Isao shuddered. As if this night could get any worse. "I don't like the sound of that, Khalem," he murmured. "Cannibals should not be something we have to worry about."
Khalem lifted a hand. "Don't worry, my young Sheng. Legends. Rumors. Tall tales created by slaves who have nothing else to speak of,” he sneered. “You know how impressionable slaves can be. We shouldn't be concerned with cannibals when we have more reason to fear the mountain itself."
Celty shrugged and leaned back in the saddle.
Isao’s back felt cold without her warmth against it.
"I will not be stopped by a mountain," Isao said. "If my father and my people must fight for their lives, we will fight also for ours. Let us go on."
"What about me?" Celty asked. "Where shall I go?"
He turned in his saddle with a smile. "You are free now. You can do whatever you want. Come with us or go on your own adventure."
Her brow furrowed. She frowned. "Free?"
"Yes. Free."
"But…you saved my life. I have to repay you. At the very least, I can help the two of you reach your destination to fill my debt."
Khalem turned, a scowl etched deep in his face. "My young Sheng, such is not wise. We know nothing about her, but she knows everything about you."
"Not everything," she mumbled.