The Black God's War (52 page)

Lucia shivered with an ill sensation. His reminder made her question herself again for trying to work with him. “I wish we had been able to finish that conversation. My father told me he prayed for me to come back. He told the gods he would retreat if they returned me.”

“So that’s why your forces left?”

“Yes.”

“And that would explain why our conversation was cut short.” Rao chuckled. “Your gods didn’t give me the chance to say more.”

Lucia stared off at the dark cliffs, forgoing any effort to understand the gods’ motivations.

“Lucia, on the subject of your gods, I haven’t told you what happened at the duel. At least not everything.” Rao waited for her to look back to him. “I had interactions with two of your gods that day. First, Lord Oderigo and then the goddess Mya.”

“What do you mean?” she blurted out.

“Oderigo seemed to chastise me. We discussed metaphysics, of all things, including the origins of the gods.”

Spare me.

“But the most surprising thing,” he continued, “an ironic thing, is that your goddess Mya saved me.”

“What?” again her mouth moved before she could think.

“Your brother nearly destroyed my body. The pressure was unthinkable. My spirit left my body and I hovered, watching. Your brother held his spear over me—this was when he started arguing with Narayani—and I forgave him. I dedicated my suffering to a higher purpose and forgave him. That’s when your goddess appeared. She healed me. I’ve been trying to make sense of this. Can you tell me why she would do that?”

Caio’s own goddess?
“I told you before, I don’t understand the gods at all.”

“Mya is a goddess of healing, isn’t she? You call her The Compassionate One?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe that’s why she responded to my, well, my prayer. Your beliefs have always seemed odd to me. I always thought they were just figments of your collective imagination. I’ve always thought it was spiritually immature, like a childish dream or a story someone wrote down and then took literally. But that childish story seemed to save my life.”

“If you are telling the truth, all of it surprises me.” Not entirely, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “About your lady, Narayani? I’m sorry you’ve lost her. You must feel horrible.”

Rao mumbled an affirmation. He looked away and Lucia looked off in the opposite direction to give him space. “I try not to think about her, and try to focus on what needs to be done. Do you think she’s all right?”

“I am sure she is.” Lucia had no idea. She remembered Danato’s message. If true, then either Rao and his lady or she and her brother would not be reunited for long, if at all.

A stray thought slithered through her mind. If she killed Rao, would it not satisfy Danato’s latest prophecy? She put her hands on the hilt of Ysa’s sheathed sword. With the prince dead, Rezzia might crush Pawelon and take their fortress. But this was a problem, too. Her father would keep pushing for more conquest and when she last spoke with Caio, he was of the same mind as her father.

I can’t believe I have more in common with the prince of bloody Pawelon than I do with my own brother.

“If I can help it,” she said, “you will see Narayani again soon.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve done some things for me.”

He seemed nothing like she believed him to be. Rao was principled, and either brave or foolish. And he still seemed sincere. Pawelon was lucky to have him.

“I would have hated you forever for what you did to Ilario, and a part of me always will. But it changes things, knowing that you didn’t come to hurt us, that you weren’t hunting us. Is that really the truth?”

“Completely.”

She could distract her mind for short stretches, but she always came back to Ilario. She could still sense his lips, see his face. But the image was a mirage, only a flash. It never lasted.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “It’s something I still can’t comprehend.”

“Neither can I.” She heard her voice bend with emotion and regretted revealing her sorrow to him.

“I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I have no idea about the depths of what you must be feeling, but I can tell you that what happened to him haunts me, too.”

That only made it more depressing. “I am glad you still have someone, if we can get her back for you.”

“How does it make sense that one innocent person dies and leaves others behind, while another continues? How can we live with that? You lose a love forever and life just goes on? I don’t know how to make sense of it. What would your religion say about this?”

“You’re not asking the right person.”

“Why not? You are the royal daughter of Rezzia. You have a divine patron.”

“I don’t really care. I tried to protect him. I was right there next to him, holding Ysa’s shield. It did no good at all.” She was saying too much. Death was Danato’s province. She’d never understand anything under his domain.

Rao waited some time. “I understand how hard that must be to accept. Oh, Lucia, I forgot something. Here, is this yours?”

Unsure of what he had for her in the dark, she slowly reached out toward his hand.

“It’s a necklace I found near your armor.”

The holy black anvil of Lord Sansone fell into Lucia’s dark palm. She clutched it and looked away, fighting off her emotions.

“These gloves are yours, too.”

They didn’t speak again until the moon rose and they found a place to camp for the night. A dry ravine that must have once been a riverbed gave them an opportunity to conceal themselves. They walked along the rocky ditch until they found an area with dry tree branches arching over it.

Rao said they would have to get up very early, before the sunrise, to watch out for Pawelon patrols. They remained invisible due to Aayu’s power, but by morning the effect would expire. Making a fire would have posed a huge risk, so Lucia prepared herself for a cold night with little comfort in the desert. She insisted on keeping the sword and shield next to her and lay against the wall to hide from any scouts.

Rao sat two paces away, facing the opposite side of the ravine. “Lucia, I’ve been wondering about something you said about that night.”

“Go ahead.” Lucia opened her eyes. “You don’t have to look away.”

Rao nodded and turned around to face her. It was too hard to make out his features in the dark, but she could see his mop of brown hair. “You said that your Lord Danato sent you to the lake that night. Of course, your religion says he presides over death. That part makes sense, but why would he take away someone that you and your brother both love? Don’t you believe that his duty is to watch over you, especially you and Caio?”

“I said it before. I
don’t
understand them. I pray to my goddess, and sometimes she answers those prayers. Sometimes she doesn’t. Lord Danato,” Lucia hurried through a deep breath and fought the ridiculous urge to tell him more, “I don’t understand.”

“Has he done things like this before? Has he done anything else that has hurt you?”

Ha!
“Yes.”

“Interesting. Things that didn’t involve death?”

“Sometimes.”

“I was thinking about this. He is your god of death, but he is a complicated figure in your myth—” he corrected himself, “in your religion. I remember reading about him and wondering,” Rao paused as if gathering his thoughts, “his domain also includes the dark processes of life, including the balancing of what you might call sin. Our concept is karma. It suggests that whatever we do returns to us because in truth there is no separation between us all. So when we act upon another, we truly act upon ourselves. Evil acts come back to us, while good deeds bring good karma. As I understand your Lord Danato, it’s as if he is a god of karma.”

“This is the kind of thing I have no interest in. You might as well be talking to yourself right now.”

“I’m sorry. I …” Rao sat back and looked up at the stars. Moonlight revealed his handsome face and clear, dark skin. “I was just trying to make sense of something senseless. I shouldn’t have brought it up again.”

Lucia turned onto her back. A bright star drew her attention and she stared at it for some time. She turned onto her side again and tried to ignore the rough ground against her hip and shoulder. “Listen, if you have any answers for me, I’ll entertain them. I shouldn’t have bristled at you.”

Rao looked back to her and his facial features became blackened again. “It just occurred to me that if Lord Danato effectively took Ilario’s life that perhaps it has to do with some kind of karma, or balancing.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know if I should talk about it. It’s just speculation. I don’t know if you know—”

“About what?”

“Do you know about what happened to my mother and my brothers?”

“No.”

“Your father never said anything to you?”

“No.”
Why?

“According to my own father,” Rao paused as he looked up at the moon, “your father sent assassins to kill them. They nearly killed me as well. I was the youngest of the three boys. I was a baby.”

Lucia’s mind twisted and turned. Was he lying? Would her father do such a thing? She thought he could have, but didn’t want to believe it.

“So,” Rao continued, “wouldn’t your Lord Danato be the one to enforce the balancing of this sin? He would be the one to bring that karma back to your father.”

“Then why would he do anything to me?” Lucia blurted out, then regretted revealing too much.

Lord Danato crouched in the ravine, beside the tree branches, hidden from all forms of life. His midsection came up to the level of the ground above Lucia and Rao and the rest of his body stretched above it. He stared at Rezzia’s royal daughter.

“Maybe the burden was passed around—to you, and to Caio also. But, most likely, someone would need to die.”

My mother.

Rao continued, “Ilario was almost like a son to your father, wasn’t he? He was chosen by your father to watch over Caio.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know a lot about your royal family. We have good sources in Remaes.”

“Then you know my mother died.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. You were young. It happened when you were ten, soon after your brother was born.”

Gods! What else does he know about me?

Lucia sat up and leaned against the rocks. “Well if what you are saying is true, then that could be—”

“Karma, maybe.
My
mother died. And Ilario would be like a son.”

“And his death hurt me, and Caio, and my father. So, would it be possible that this debt would’ve been settled with his death?”
If this whole thing isn’t completely ridiculous.

“Perhaps. That might be true. For your sake, I hope so.”

Lucia rolled onto her back again and found the same star. Its twinkling looked yellow sometimes, then blue, then yellow again.
I’m sure he could’ve done it
. An image of Rezzian blades cutting through the chests of Pawelon boys forced itself upon her.

“I am going to meditate for some time. I’ll sleep later, but we need to wake up before the sun rises.”