Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists) (45 page)

The emperor listed the names of the fallen duelists, all thirteen of them, and designated them with new names. The remaining duelists stood proudly with unashamed tears on their cheeks, hearing their friends and colleagues honored so permanently. Yet, the living duelists did not receive the same honor.

You have to die around here to get the emperor to notice you, it seems. Bayan felt a dark tendril of anger return.

“For the living,” Emperor Jaap said, unintentionally countering Bayan’s thoughts, “I offer a different sort of reward, one that can be earned more than once. Though the next time any of you should earn it, I must confess that I hope it is in a different manner than throwing yourselves between me and a steelwielder’s blade.”

He gestured to a servant bearing a wooden tray that held several folded white cloths shot through with silver threads. The emperor himself took the cloths one at a time and handed one to each of the Kheerzaal duelists, murmuring a few words to each.

Bayan was about to gripe silently again when he noticed there were more cloths on the tray than there were Imperial Duelists. Sure enough, the emperor handed one to a suddenly-flustered Tarin. Her fair skin turned bright red, and she bobbed a curtsey as she held the slender fabric with exquisite care.

After the emperor handed Bayan his cloth and thanked him for his service, Bayan unfolded it, unable to believe he was seeing such a rare item up close. A slender strip of cloth no wider than his hand but nearly as long as his arm, it trailed to a point on one end, with cloth loops on the other. The fabric was pure white, gleaming with silver threads that winked in the sunlight.

It is a battle pennant! I can’t believe it!

“Thank you, young duelists, for your service,” Emperor Jaap concluded, “for your timely warning, and for your efforts to save not only my own life, but those of my family. It is my privilege to honor you thus at the beginning of your careers. Young duelists bearing battle pennants are rare in this golden age. Such a distinction early on will no doubt help you find placement in any duel den you choose.

“Now, I beg you all, excuse me while I send missives to the Aklaa border dens. The perpetrators of this heinous rebellion will not escape justice at my hand.”

The emperor turned, his smudged robe swirling, and walked away, drawing several counselors and servants into his orbit.

Turning to Calder, Bayan murmured, “Wait for me.” Before he could tell himself he was insane, he darted after the emperor.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty.” He fell in next to the emperor. “Might I have a moment?”

“Well spoken for a boy whose land is newly-come to the empire,” Emperor Jaap replied. “You have done your homeland proud today. What is it you wish?”

“Sire, there is one who isn’t here to be honored: the eunuch Kipri Nayuuti. He works for Surveyor Philo Sallas. Kipri came to Muggenhem to warn me about the Lady Qivinga, and it turned out that some of the rebels were his own extended family members. He had to choose between them and you, and he chose you.”

“Did he now?” The emperor waved over a servant who carried a portable writing desk on a stabilizing strap around his neck. At the emperor’s nod, the man began taking notes.

“Yes, he did.” Bayan took a deep breath. “And I don’t think it’s fair of you to take the punishment for this rebellion out on all of the Raqtaaq people.”

The emperor raised his dark eyebrows. “You don’t, do you?”

“No, Sire. You were attacked by eleven Raqtaaq, out of everyone in Aklaa and Nunaa. I think that, in the interest of justice, you should punish the guilty, but you shouldn’t make the innocent suffer along with them.”

“That’s an interesting notion. You learned that in history class? From de Rood?”

“Yes, I did. And, Sire, speaking of the Academy, I couldn’t help but notice that Balanganam has been part of the empire for seven years and has only ever sent one duelist student to study at the Academy: me. Worse, the Raqtaaq lands have been part of the empire for two decades. I’m sure I don’t need to tell Your Majesty how many Raqtaaq students the Academy has. Everyone sees the imbalance. Right now, they think that’s the way it should be. But the border peoples in the Waarden Empire are not crops to be harvested. You can’t just discard the stalks, clear the paddy, and plant a whole new crop after you’ve taken what you want, and expect us to be content with that. Not when we see how the other cultures are treated.”

“You don’t think everyone is treated fairly in my empire?”

Bayan took a deep breath. “I can’t say that I do, no. Today’s events have made it clear that your people don’t enjoy being made unwelcome. They rebel, they get some illegal steel, and then they try to kill you with it.”

“Ah. Point well taken. But this isn’t something I can change overnight, Bayan. There are politics and policies to consider, as well as the willingness of the Raqtaaq to step forward and join us. And their young elementalists have cultural issues all their own.”

“Well, Sire, I hope for all our sakes that you find a way to change it soon. I have a feeling that, since anima magic is sneakier than we all thought it was, you might want to have a few more duelists on your hands, just in case.”

The emperor stopped and looked down at Bayan. “Thank you, Duelist, for your perspective. You’ve made a few salient points, and I shall take them under advisement.”

He paused, and Bayan waited for a dismissal. But the emperor spoke again.

“You’ve not been content at the Academy, I take it. I’m sorry for that. My father would never have let that happen; he adored the Balanganese culture. But he died suddenly while in negotiations with the Danatu, and I have had to step into his very big shoes in many areas, while knowing that my feet just aren’t big enough. I hope you will accept that I haven’t let this happen on purpose. I’m still trying to find my own empire, as it were.”

Bayan blinked in surprise at the emperor’s confiding words. Unable to formulate a reasonable reply, he murmured, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, about your brother. I know I’d hate to lose mine even once.”

Emperor Jaap simply nodded. “Best you hurry back, Duelist. I understand you have the remainder of your Talent Tournament to perform.”

Bayan looked over his shoulder. His hexmates waited for him in the middle of the square. “Yes, Sire.”

Kiwani watched Bayan return from speaking to the emperor. “I can’t believe he got away with that,” she muttered, though her tone was admiring.

“It’s that smile,” Calder said.

“Nae, it’s because he’s short and friendly. Like a stuffed toy,” Tarin said.

Eward laughed. “Maybe he should have put one on his sigil flag.”

The others laughed with him. Kiwani caught sight of a noble couple approaching with concerned haste from the other direction. “Excuse me. Find me before you leave?”

“Sints watch you.” Tarin put a comforting hand on Kiwani’s arm.

Kiwani silently joined her parents—
they’re not my parents!
—and led them into an unused scribing room off the square. Kiwani pressed her back against the jamb of the door. As the noble couple stepped in and moved deeper into the room, their passage stirred the air, bringing the scent of vellum and ink to Kiwani’s nose. She pressed her lips into a firm line and met Wateyo’s eyes. “I have half a mind to tell him.”

“Please, don’t.” Iyanu sat on one of the wooden scribing benches. “Kiwani, you don’t understand what happened,” she said, her voice urgent, “and we don’t want you to make things worse by exposing the emperor to pressure from his opponents among the Lord Ministers.”

“Explain it then.” Kiwani crossed her arms.

“Sixteen years ago,” her father began, pacing back and forth, “your mother gave birth to a beautiful little girl. We named her Kiwani. Emperor Hedrick gave her his blessing and became her godfather, a role which Emperor Jaap inherited. But when she was two months old, she died. Your mother was heartbroken. She had her heart set on a dozen children, but after Kiwani died, she was terrified that none would ever survive. And, worse, we’d let the emperor bless a fatally-flawed child. If word of that had gotten out, certain political factions would have used it against both us and him. And they still will, if they learn of it.”

After Kiwani died
. Resisting the shudder that threatened to climb up her spine, Kiwani frowned, focusing on the political ramifications of her parents’ choice.
Bad luck to have a blessed child do poorly in life. How much worse if she dies right after the emperor blesses her?

“So, where did I come from, then?” Usually, children get this question out of their system when they’re six, not when they’re sixteen. Am I going to have to start my life all over again?

“You remember Ginina and Okatin, back at the Wisnuk Bay estate?” her father asked.

Kiwani nodded. Ginina was a fabulous baker whose tiny pies were worth waking up early for. Okatin managed Wateyo’s business acquisitions in the local towns. “They’re my parents?”

“Ginina and I gave birth the same month,” her mother explained. “She and Okatin were indentureds. They weren’t married yet, and the pregnancy had been hard on Ginina; she didn’t have a lot of strength to perform her duties in the kitchens. So we offered them a deal. We would raise you as our own child, and they would be free of the remaining years of their indenturement, hired on as permanent staff, and given the ability to see you grow. But they had to agree to keep the secret.”

“Well, I’m not sure
I’m
interested in keeping your secret any longer.”

“Kiwani.” Her father tried to sound both reasonable and authoritative. “It’s your secret too.”

“It’s not my secret. It’s yours. You made it. You kept it. You could have told me at any point before I found out on my own. But you never did. You never said a word! And I’m not sure I want to be like that. You’re liars, and a duelist must always seek the truth.”

Her mother stared at her, shock and hurt writ large across her face. “How can you turn on us like that?”

“I don’t even know you! Who are you, really? Maybe you have other, more dangerous secrets, too! Such a powerful lord and lady, so close to the emperor. And me, his loyal servant. I can’t trust you anymore. Now if you will excuse me, Lord Wateyo, Lady Iyanu. I need to find my hexmates and depart for Muggenhem. There’s something I need to tell them. Something I should have told them days ago.” She turned to go. “I trust that they’ll keep my secret for you; you should too.”

“Kiwani, sweetling.” Her mother jumped up from the bench and wrung her hands. “Write us, still, won’t you? We miss you.”

Kiwani paused in the doorway, stared out at the cleansed square. Most evidence of the battle was gone, erased. As if it had never existed.
Like my life. Vanished in an instant.

“I understand the situation you found yourselves in, and how it must have made you feel.” She felt a squirming dislike for admitting such a thing, but knew it for truth nonetheless. “But I can’t agree with the choice you made. I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done to me, and to my faith in the nobility of this empire. I had sixteen years of luxury and privilege that weren’t mine to live. I never got to know my real parents as anything other than my
servants
, for sints’ sake. And I would have ended up at the Academy no matter how my life started out. You should have left well enough alone.”

Kiwani stepped out into the square and turned back to the people inside the room. “I’m not your daughter. I’m a servant of the emperor. It wouldn’t be proper for someone of your high standing to contact me further.” She walked away into the freshening spring breeze.

~~~

The imperial carriage rolled north, carrying Bayan and his hexmates to Muggenhem again.

“It’s finally spring, according to the imperial calendar,” Bayan murmured.

“Odd, how it feels the same as winter did,” Calder said.

“Things change slowly,” Tarin said. “It’s hard to notice the differences sometimes.”

Kiwani shifted her gaze to the countryside out the window. “Not always. Sometimes you get an earthquake.”

Bayan took her hand and squeezed it; she squeezed back.

“We’re the rock that never moves,” he said. “The center, the constant. We’ll always have each other. All of us.”

“Aye, that’s all well and good, Bayan,” Calder said, “but if you try to hold my hand, I’m gonna Bluebolt you.”

Bayan pouted good-humoredly. “And after all I’ve done for you, too.”

Later, the carriage stopped at a depot to switch out the horses for a fresh team. While the depot hands led the tired horses to a nearby barn, the hex got out and stretched their legs. Kiwani approached Bayan as he ate an orange.

“Bayan, do you think I can learn to harness my emotions into my magic like you do?”

Bayan dropped his orange slice in surprise. He stared at Kiwani for a long moment. “How did you know?”

“There were plenty of clues. Like when Braam’s anger potion didn’t affect you at all.” She smiled. “I don’t think Duelist Savants are good at subtle.”

“I—well—um.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know anything about trying to meld emotion with magic on purpose. You were in the same classes I was. The whole point was to avoid doing exactly that. Why would you want to be like me? It could kill you, trying to become what I am. It nearly killed me, and Eward and Calder and Odjin too, one night.”