Текст книги "Dragonfly"
Автор книги: Julia Golding
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Chapter 18
The slave revolt acted like a spark to dry tinder. By the end of the second day, Ramil had more
recruits than he could easily accommodate in the makeshift barracks around the square. Slaves
were simply walking out on their masters and presenting themselves at the market to have their
chains struck off. Nursemaids left their charges on their mistresses' doorsteps, cooks abandoned
the stoves and let the bread burn, gardeners picked up their shovels and headed to the harbor
side.
Ramil's pretense that this was all about ransoms for the rich people had worked. What he feared
most–an immediate assault by trained soldiers–had not materialized as the influential families
were concerned for the lives of their hostages. The authorities held back from a counter-attack,
believing the slaves could be bought off, separated, defeated in dribs and drabs, then executed
at their leisure. They were already devising a spectacular demise for the ringleader, something
to make all slaves in the Empire tremble. But Ramil was not worried about
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their plans; his main problem was keeping his troops focused: too many yearned for revenge
and had no vision beyond making the masters suffer.
He needed something to hold them together and raise their spirits before he attempted to take
more of the city. Sitting in the market, watching the ships at anchor down by the water only a
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few streets away, he thought he had the solution.
"So, Melletin, what do you think about taking on the pirate fleet?" he asked casually at
breakfast.
The Brigardian choked on his mouthful.
"They're sitting there like fat ducks," Ramil continued, gesturing to ten vessels tied up at their moorings. "It would be a brilliant stroke if we could sink them."
"But what about the galley slaves?" Melletin pointed out once he had found his voice. "We can't just burn them–we'll be roasting a lot of innocent men if we do that. And if we just march upon
them, the sailors will massacre us from their decks."
Ramil shook his head. "You're thinking like a soldier. I'm thinking like a devious slave trying to get even with his master."
Melletin laughed. "Are you, Prince? So what's the big idea? I assume you have one or you
wouldn't look so pleased with yourself."
"I think this is a job for the girls."
At dusk, mist rolled in from the Inland Sea, wrapping the port in its featherlight embrace. A
gaggle of pretty dockside girls sauntered up to the fleet at anchor. Two
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approached the gangplank leading to the flagship, the Bloody Spear. A bored sailor standing
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guard peered over the side and made out the comely form of a black-haired girl. She had a dark-
skinned companion swathed in a veil hovering shyly at her shoulder.
"Hey, gorgeous!" called the girl, raising her skirts to flash a shapely ankle.
"Need some company?"
The sailor glanced behind him. "Sorry, sweetheart, not allowed to have visitors on board. Not
with all the trouble yonder."
"Aw!" said Yelena. "Those cursed slaves are ruining our fun–everyone is saying the same." She minced a few steps up the plank, her friend following.
"But I wouldn't have thought you would be a spoilsport."
The sailor scratched his head. "What about my boss?"
Yelena put her hand on the rail. "Don't worry about him," she said breathily.
"My friend will see to him."
The veiled girl nodded and dropped onto the deck. She was surprisingly tall for a woman, but
then the sailor knew that Captain Jirk liked an armful. He beckoned the pretty one towards him.
"He's in his cabin," he told the dark-skinned girl. "Say I sent you with my compliments."
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The second girl padded off in a rustle of silk and cloud of cheap perfume.
"Now, what about you, my lovely?" the man said, reaching eagerly towards Yelena to pull her
into a hug. But he never touched her. Everything went black and he ended up headfirst in the
water with a quiet splash. Yelena ran across the deck and swiftly despatched a
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second sailor on watch. A muffled cry came from the captain's cabin–Ramil emerged wiping his
sword on his dress.
"Don't do that!" said Yelena. "You'll ruin the material."
The two "girls" crept down the ladder to the lower deck. The smell of the pit holding the galley slaves was worse than the pens in the market. Four sailors were playing cards on an upturned
box while their slaves slept over their oars. Yelena approached, swinging her hips provocatively.
"Hello, lads, looking for some fun? My friend and I, we're full of surprises."
A big bald-headed man nudged his card partner. "Things are looking up, Toburt. The captain's
sent us a present."
A bell outside began to sound the alarm. Yelena and Ramil exchanged a glance: one of the
attacks must have been spotted. Oarsmen stirred in their seats. Thinking quickly, Yelena
grabbed on to the big man's arm, pretending to quiver with fear.
"What's that?" she gasped. "Don't tell me the filthy slaves are making more trouble! Oh no, what's going to become of us?"
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There were yells and cries outside. Toburt and the other two men grabbed their swords and
disappeared up on deck. The bald man hung back a
moment to pat Yelena condescendingly on the rump.
"Stay here, darling; I'll go sort it out and be back to look after you."
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"Perhaps I should look after you now," Yelena said, moving in closer.
The man grunted and fell back, clutching at the dagger slipped between his ribs, his eyes wide
with surprise.
Yelena rubbed her bloodied hands on his shirt with disgust as the slaves cheered and rattled
their chains.
"I hope he deserved it," she said wistfully as Ramil unchained the first bank of slaves.
The first oarsman limped forward and kissed her hand. "He did, miss, a nasty brute. Even his
wife'll thank you."
Ramil put an arm around her. He knew how she felt. Taking a life in cold blood like that made
you feel no better than the enemy.
"I'm sorry, Yelena. Perhaps I should've come up with a different plan," he said as the slaves 322
rushed the ladder, sweeping the remaining sailors out of their path.
Yelena straightened her shoulders. "No, Ram, it's what I was trained to do.
I'm saving far more lives than I'm taking–that's the main thing."
Ramil kissed her brow, honoring her courage. "Come then, let's see how the others have fared."
From the evidence of the dockside, the operation had largely gone to plan.
One ship had rumbled the fake "girls" and put up a fight, but that was soon ended by an influx of slaves freed from the other ships. Ramil watched with satisfaction as the freed men set about
firing their former prisons. They knew exactly
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what to do, doubtless having dreamt of such a day for years. It seemed only right that they
should have the pleasure.
March had arrived and with it the spring. The meadows and forest were bursting with blossom
but no one greeted it with joy. Each petal that unfolded was another step nearer to invasion.
King Lagan had done
everything he could think of to prepare. Wardens had formed into bands of fast-moving raiders,
ordered to harass Fergox's army as it marched through the forest, but Lagan knew that the
major battle would happen outside the walls of his city. That was where the war would be
decided.
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Lady Egret, now one of the King's counsellors, approached him on the battlements one sunny
morning as he stared out across the ocean. The twenty Blue Crescent ships were still moored in
the harbor. They had defended Falburg from pirate raids, but Lagan wished heartily that the
alliance had gone ahead as planned.
The King turned on hearing the distinctive tap-tap of her cane. Lady Egret was smiling.
"Good news, my lady?" the king said, guiding her to a seat. "I could do with some."
"Yes, I think it is good," she said, lowering herself carefully onto the bench.
"Duke Nerul reports that Fergox has handed over command of his army to Junis and is returning
with al speed to Tigral."
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This news was so unexpected; Lagan was aware that he was gaping in a most unkingly fashion.
"And this is certain?"
"As certain as my bones ache every morning," she replied with a smile.
"And does the duke say why?"
"There is a full-scale slave revolt in Tigral. Beautifully timed, I may say, thank the Father."
Lagan rubbed his hands. "I could not have ordered it better myself. I don't suppose you can add
icing to this cake of news by giving me word of Ramil?"
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She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. All I know is that he and the Princess headed
south, attempting to reach the sea and sail to the Islands that way. Perhaps you should look to
the ocean for news of him now, not to Brigard."
The King nodded. "Thank you, lady."
"No more proposals of marriage today?" the old woman said with a glint in her eye as she rose.
Lagan put his hand to his chest. "Having heard your warning, I am too afraid of Lord Egret to
dare to importune you."
She chuckled. "Ah, would that I were young again and then maybe I would make my lord
jealous. Sadly, those days are long gone." She bent her head to him and hobbled away, a distinct
spring in her step.
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Zaradan escorted Tashi to the southern shores of the Inland Sea. The way lay through the
pastures of the great herds, jealously guarded by the desert people. Without the Umni as her
guide, Tashi would have been stopped before she had gone very far. As it was, they rode
through the tent villages and were made welcome each evening by a different headman.
"My grandson's betrothed," Zaradan would say with a regal sweep of his hand to Tashi, now well hidden under purple desert robes. This was enough for her to be accepted.
In the hours spent together in the saddle, Tashi grew to admire the old man.
He was no friendly soul like Lagan, ready with a hug and a word of encouragement, but harsh
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and indomitable, rather like his land. Yet he had a kindly streak and a respect that showed in his
dealings with her. He had begun to call her "daughter," as if he considered her already married to Ramil– a bittersweet title for Tashi, not knowing if she would ever see him again.
At the port of Tarqui, a ramshackle town of white houses and wind-blown palms, Tashi realized
she had reached the point where she would have to leave the stallion behind.
"Umni," she said as they dismounted on the harbor, "please take Thunder for me." She handed him the reins. "Keep him for Ramil."
Zaradan touched his head then his heart. "I promise to deliver him to my grandson."
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Tashi took off her light saddle bag, containing Ramil's shirts and her old clothes ruined in the
river, then said her farewells to the horse.
"If you find Ramil," she told Thunder solemnly, "take care of him for me."
The horse bumped noses with her, then butted her gently away.
Zaradan sent a man ahead to scout the dockside. No Empire ship would be safe for Tashi; it
would have to be a trading vessel from another nation, like the neutral lands to the south or the
Ice Archipelago. Tashi waited patiently, watching the seabirds diving for the scraps thrown to
them by the fishermen gutting their catch. The man returned swiftly.
"Umni, there is a Blue Crescent trader in the harbor!" he declared. "They said they'd take on a passenger."
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Tashi felt her heart leap. Finally, the Goddess was smiling on her.
"Well then, let us negotiate your passage," said Zaradan, offering her his hand. "It will be interesting to have proof of your identity from a countryman."
"Countrywoman, I expect," Tashi corrected him, hurrying towards the square-sailed boat with a feeling of coming home.
The return to her people, however, did not proceed smoothly. Uniloma, salt trader from
Phonilara, refused to believe Tashi's claim that she was the Fourth Crown Princess, even when
she removed her desert veil and showed her blonde hair. Instead, the hard-bitten old
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trader called the Goddess's curses down on the head of the girl who could make such a
sacrilegious assertion.
"I've seen the Fourth Crown Princess," Uniloma declared. "She was on her barge heading off on some grand voyage. Beautiful she was: so poised and calm, face white as it should be, hair
veiled."
"But that was me!" protested Tashi from the dock-side. "I was sitting on the Throne of Nature wearing an orange sash."
"Any fool knows what the Fourth Crown Princess wears. That proves nothing. You don't behave
like an Islander, young miss; you look like one, but you're acting like an Easterner."
Tashi opened her mouth to refute this but then closed it again. It was true: her countrywomen
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would hardly recognize her these days as she had
become so emotional. Her behavior was indecent by Blue Crescent
standards.
Zaradan stepped in. "So you say this girl is an impostor?"
"I can't see how she can be anything else," Uniloma stated resolutely.
"But, by your admission, she is an Islander. Will you carry her to Rama? I will pay you well for
your trouble."
"As long as she does not come up with any more nonsense like this, I'll take her." Uniloma's eye was on the purse at Zaradan's waist.
Zaradan nodded and dropped a bag of coins into the woman's wrinkled palm. Tashi turned
away, humiliated. A cloud covered the sun and the water turned grey.
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Small waves chopped at the jetty. Everything looked bleak and colorless.
She felt a pressure on her arm and found Zaradan at her side. He bent and kissed her on the
brow.
"It took me a while but I believe you, daughter. Captain Uniloma will too when she realizes that
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people, even crown princesses, can change. You've become more yourself, that is all."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for having faith in me."
"And you, my daughter, have faith that I will help Ramil. And when I see him, I will tell him
where he can find you."
It was a slight hope he offered but far better than nothing. Tashi nodded and bowed a deep Blue
Crescent bow to a king. She then picked up her bag and boarded the ship. Uniloma was ready to
sail, having loaded her cargo. Tashi kept out of the way as her countrymen cast off and turned
the boat westward.
The southern shore with its little ports and rocky inlets dropped below the horizon, leaving only
the golden glow of the distant sand dunes to hint at the presence of land.
On the journey home, Uniloma and the rest of the crew watched their passenger suspiciously.
The girl said very little, but they were surprised to see she knew the rituals of the Goddess and
followed them faithfully each morning and evening. It was clear that
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she found great solace in this task; her face was calm and content as she completed the prayers
with skill and no fuss. A whisper of doubt crept into the captain's mind.
"Where did you say you were from, girl?" Uniloma asked gruffly one morning. The vessel was far out to sea, giving a wide berth to the coastline of western Holt and any bold pirate vessel.
"From Kai."
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"And your name?"
"Taoshira." Tashi did not risk giving her title again but neither was she going to lie.
Uniloma clucked in irritation.
"My family and friends call me Tashi."
"I'll call you Tashi then. I'm not using a princess's name for you."
Tashi sighed. There was no point arguing. The truth would come out when they returned to
Rama. It would only be an unseemly squabble if she pressed her claim here.
That's if anyone recognizes me, Tashi thought glumly. I'm not sure I'd know me either. I might
have to stand naked before my servants to prove my point.
She smiled at the idea. No, I'm definitely not the same person if I can laugh about that.
After two weeks at sea, Rama appeared on the horizon, the familiar mountain rising from the
Sapphire Ocean with the city on its slopes in a patchwork cloak of green, gold, and white roofs.
Tashi leant on the rail, wishing away the final miles, relieved that she had
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made it home in good time. The long journey through Brigard, Kandar, and Holt now seemed
almost like a dream as her life joined full circle with the girl who had sailed unwillingly for Gerfal 330
only a few months before.
Uniloma wanted no more to do with her dubious passenger once they had cleared customs.
Dumped with her bag on the dockside, Tashi hesitated as to her next step. There was no barge
waiting to meet her, no guard of honor.
The porters jostled her, the sailors ignored her, and the street vendors took one look at her
frayed shirt and Southerner robes and left her alone. Tashi realized she did not know how to get
from the port to the palace. In the past she had always been carried in state, having to make no
decisions herself.
The palace shone above her, walls golden in the setting sun. Its green curved roof, decorated
with dragon and lion gargoyles, glowed like polished jade. Down here in the dirt of the
harborside, it seemed impossibly far away, like an enchanted palace from legend. Tashi
understood why Uniloma refused to believe that a flesh-and-blood girl could be the same
creature as the untouchable Fourth Crown Princess. Stripped of her trappings of rank, she was
an unimpressive creature.
Well, thought Tashi, shouldering her pack, it's about time the rulers of the Blue Crescent Islands
got a bit closer to their people. I sat on the Throne of Nature: I've just become more natural,
that's all.
She set off up the hill following the line of the canal.
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In the twilight, the big bronze gate of the palace loomed above Tashi, oppressive and closed.
What now? she wondered. How do people get in to see us if they need to?
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She had never asked herself this before, accepting that there was a line of officials between her
and the public who filtered out the timewasters and the frivolous, in fact dealing with everything
but the most crucial business.
She knocked on the door.
A little window jerked open and a man put his face to the grille. "Palace hours are between nine
and six. Come back tomorrow." He slammed it shut.
Tashi knocked again.
The man reappeared. "Are you deaf? We are closed to the public."
Tashi jammed her fingers in the gap, yelping as he tried to squeeze it shut.
"You must listen to me. I am Princess Taoshira, the Fourth Crown Princess, and I'm going to sit
here until you let me in–or summon someone to check my claim." Tashi removed her bruised
fingers and the doorkeeper banged the portal shut.
Bells in the palace began to ring: it was the time of the evening service.
Disheartened by this final obstacle, Tashi slumped down against the door and began to pray. She
heard the grille open again but carried on.
An hour passed. Two soldiers came out of the palace.
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"You've got to move," the woman officer said, poking Tashi with a pike. "You can't sit here all night."
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"I'll sit here until someone comes to find out if I'm telling the truth," Tashi replied defiantly.
The officer gave a tired groan. "And that is?"
"That I am Taoshira, Fourth Crown Princess."
"Good try love, but if you want a free bed for the night I'd set your sights a bit lower." The officer chuckled. "I don't want any unpleasantness, just move along."
"You'll have to arrest me if you want me to move," Tashi said steadily,
"because I have no other way of proving my claim but to wait until someone in the palace
comes. Send for the Mistress of the Royal Chamber, or any of her assistants, but please do not
mistake me: I am neither mad nor a fake.
Just well travelled."
She closed her eyes and leant back against the bronze panels of the gate, wondering what the
guards would decide.
"Wait here," the officer said, motioning to her colleague, and disappeared back inside. She
returned five minutes later with the Under Mistress. Tashi could hear her apologizing for the
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inconvenience as she guided the lady to the gate.
"It's probably nothing–just a silly girl playing a joke on us–but I thought it best to ask you."
Finally, her luck had changed for the better. Tashi opened her eyes, looked up and smiled at the
elaborately gowned palace servant.
"Hello, Fa Rinira."
For the first time in her life, the Under Mistress screamed.
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The Crown Princesses called an emergency meeting as the palace
simmered with the astounding news. The Fourth Crown Princess, last heard of in Gerfal, had
turned up like a beggar at the gate. Rumors had placed her in Fergox's prison, a convert to the
worship of Holin, dead, lost in Brigard; but no one had expected her to find her own way home.
On the urging of Korbin, the Third Crown Princess, a month ago they had even begun
deliberations on how to replace a princess who was only missing and not deceased, thinking this
would call for a new ritual and a vote. Now all this was thrown into confusion.
Tashi sat in the Hall of the Floating Lily waiting for her sisters to assemble.
Her throne was in Gerfal, so she made do with a wooden stool. The throne had never been very
comfortable in any case. She could sense people coming to look at her, peeking out behind the
pillars. By the standards of the court, the mood was tempestuous. Fans were flapping nervously;
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brows furrowed.
The three Crown Princesses came in together. Tashi guessed they had been in the antechamber,
conferring as to how to handle her return. She rose and bowed, proud to be standing before
them in her travelling robes and Ramil's shirt, wanting them to see her as she was after the
journey they had sent her on.
"Fourth Crown Princess, we rejoice to see you back among us," said Marisa, the First Princess, though her
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eyes were full of doubt and tone far from welcoming. "We expected you to return married with
your husband, but you stand before us alone. How is this possible?"
Tashi looked to her ally, Safilen, the Second Princess, and saw that her eyes were glistening. Had
she been crying? With joy or sorrow to see her back? Korbin was her usual inscrutable self.
"The Goddess chose another path for me to the one we elected," Tashi said quietly. "Tested by many trials, the alliance stands. I have come to ask that we defend our friends, the Gerfalians.
The man responsible for my
abduction, insulting our entire nation in doing so, stands at the borders of King Lagan's land. I
move that we send our fleet to Gerfal's aid."
The Third Crown Princess raised a finger. "It is too soon to talk of such things when we do not
understand what has happened to you. You are not married to the Gerfalian Prince?"
"No."
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"The Gerfalians let you be taken by Fergox Spearthrower?"
"They failed to prevent it, yes. Prince Ramil was also abducted."
"And are the rumors true that you wavered in your faith before the whole of Fergox's court?"
Tashi felt the question like a blade at her throat but had no intention of pretending she was
better than she was, whatever the consequences. Her journey had stripped her of the desire for
such artifice.
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"I did."
The hisses of collective censure buzzed in the room, but Tashi felt she was beyond shame now.
The events in Fergox's court seemed to involve a different person.
Korbin regarded her coldly. "You are not worthy to stand here."
"Then I kneel." Tashi sank to her knees. "I have never been worthy; I have been taught this by bitter experience. I am a goat girl from the smallest island made princess through bribery and
corruption. But I say to you, sister, that none of us are worthy of the Goddess. She chooses the
most unexpected instruments to do her work–even warlords, even goat girls."
Tashi turned to Safilen and saw that she was nodding.
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"I know it is not our way to show emotion and I am showing my feelings now, but you sent me
on this journey and should not blame me that I come back changed. I cannot pretend that none
of this matters to me or hide my feelings from you all. You should at least listen to what I have
learned as, believe me, I have suffered to gain this knowledge."
She paused, waiting for permission to carry on with her plea.
The First Crown Princess inclined her head. "Continue, sister."
Tashi knotted her fingers together in her lap. "I have learned that the Goddess wants us to risk
ourselves in her service. Her love is not just for the Islands but for the Easterners too. If we do
not help defend these people, 324
we will condemn them to Fergox's rule. I have seen it and it is founded on rottenness and
cruelty. If we do nothing, we also condemn ourselves. Fergox will turn his eye on us and destroy
our culture, just as he tried to destroy me."
Tashi stopped, her throat too tight to continue. She felt angry with the Princesses sitting there so
calmly when she was living through such a maelstrom inside.
In the silent cloisters, water tinkled from a fountain into a pool, the ripples rocking the lilies.
I'm like the fountain, merely rocking them in their complacency, Tashi thought bleakly, gripping
her knees to stop herself from clenching her fists.
Marisa spoke: "We know that our safety and that of Gerfal are connected, but we must be able
to trust them as an ally before committing our navy. That was the reason for the marriage, an
unbreakable bond between our two nations. Yet this did not take place and you sent word that
you were returning unmarried. Why should we trust them now?"
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Tashi held up open hands in despair. Her passion was not swaying them and she was running out
of reasons. "Because the King is a worthy man–
because his son risked his life to get me home–because, despite what I said a few months ago,
Ramil and I are pledged to each other." She raised her eyes to meet the First Crown Princess
defiantly. "Because I, Taoshira, the Fourth Crown Princess, trust them."
Marisa nodded, giving nothing away. "Then, sisters, let us vote. Shall we send our fleet to the aid of Gerfal?
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Cast your color to the floor: on my right for yes, on my left for no."
Tashi reached for her voting sticks but, of course, she had no throne and she had transferred her
rights to the Second Princess. Korbin saw the gesture.
"We have not said the ritual to return Taoshira her vote in matters of state; neither has the
question of her fitness to rule been satisfactorily resolved,"
Korbin announced. "There should at least be an inquiry into her conduct at Fergox's court. She
will have to abstain if we make the decision now."
"Do you still wish us to proceed, Taoshira?" Marisa asked.
Tashi looked down at the lily mosaic, seeing the lines rather than the whole picture. She
remembered the body of the priest sprawled in front of her in the temple and the shame of her
time in the hands of the priests of Holin. She had no idea how merciful or understanding her
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sisters would be when she told the detail of that story.
"I wish for no delay," she declared. "I trust my sisters to make the right decision." She looked meaningfully at Safilen, the only one so far not to have spoken.
A bell rang. The First Crown Princess closed her eyes and cast her vote to the right.
"I say we should send our navy."
The bell rang again and the Third Princess threw her stick to the left.
"I say we should defend our home waters, not leave ourselves exposed to the Pirate Fleet."
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The Second Crown Princess held two sticks in her hand. She kept her eyes open as she cast her
votes, looking unflinchingly at Tashi.
"I say that sound policy points to helping our allies; our sister's love for these people confirms it."
Orange and green sticks tumbled down to join the white of the First Princess.
"Then it is decided. The fleet will be despatched immediately," announced the First Princess.
Tashi sank down, the tension gone from her body. She had done it: she had fulfilled her promise
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to Ramil.
If Korbin was disappointed, she hid her dismay well. She rose. "It will be my task, as the one
responsible for the dispensing of justice, to undertake the inquiry into the recent conduct of
Taoshira. We must discover if she has broken any of her vows and investigate the validity of her
election."
"It is your right, sister," said the First Princess gravely.
Safilen frowned.
"Then Taoshira of Kai must be confined for a period of reflection and examination in the
Goddess's Enclosure while I complete the investigation,"
Korbin continued.
Tashi had been expecting something like this, but confinement to the Enclosure was an unheard
of step. Only maidens and single men dedicated to a lifelong silent worship of the Goddess were
allowed there. It was the most sacred place in the temple complex within the palace walls. To
send her there without being one of the devotees was to isolate her completely.
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"But why treat our sister with such harshness?" objected Safilen, anger flashing in her eyes.
"What has she done to be kept imprisoned? For that is what you are proposing, is it not?"
"I do not know what she has done. It is the purpose of the inquiry to find out. I am merely
thinking of the security of the Islands," the Third Princess said calmly.
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"I think my honored sister doubts my loyalty," Tashi said in a weary tone.
"She is wondering if Fergox has made me into his creature. I will submit to the inquiry. I ask
nothing for myself now that my mission to aid Gerfal is accomplished."
"Then lead our sister to the Enclosure and see she is suitably accommodated," Marisa instructed Korbin. "We will hear the results of your investigation at the New Moon."
The meeting broke up. Numbly, Tashi followed the dark robes of the Third Princess along the
corridors. She could hear the bustle of messengers running through the courtyards, the murmur
of people spreading the news about the decision to send the fleet and the disgrace of the
youngest princess. It was a bitter homecoming. Palace servants peered at her from behind
doors, speculating as to what taint she brought with her: loss of faith, deceit, treason? Tashi
knew in her heart of hearts that she no longer belonged here. She had grown too rebellious for
her role in the state administration. They might judge her guilty and cast her out, but even if she
regained her position, she would only break the system of government like an
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ill-fitting cog in a machine. Perhaps the Third Princess sensed this and knew the real danger.
Korbin stopped at the door leading into the Silent Courtyard.
"Please do not mistake me, Taoshira," the Princess said stiffly. "I am driven by no personal animosity towards you and think only of our nation."
