The Grace of Kings (28 page)

Jia decided to stay behind in Çaruza, in light of her condition. Phin Zyndu promised to look after her as though she were a daughter.

“Be careful,” she said to Kuni, and tried to put on a brave face.

“No need to worry. I never take unnecessary risks—ahem, as long as I haven't been given certain herbs.”

She laughed at this, and Kuni thought Jia looked especially beautiful with tears still not dried on her face, like a pear tree after rain.

His voice turned tender. “Besides, you'll soon have a Little Garu with you.”

They held hands and said nothing for a long time, and they only let go of each other when the sun rose and the sound of men and horses mustering grew too loud to ignore. He kissed her hard, once, and then did not look back as he left the little hut that Jia was staying in.

The trip back to Zudi took much less time than the trip down to Çaruza. Five thousand horses could really move.

Kuni smiled at Than, riding next to him. “I'm hoping that I won't have to hear about needing more horses for a while.”

But Than did not respond. His attention was entirely occupied by Réfiroa, Mata's otherworldly mount. He couldn't believe that such a horse existed, much less that it could be ridden. He longed to get to know the horse better when he got a chance.

As soon as the red banners of Cocru could be seen amidst the dust kicked up by the horses, the soldiers manning the walls of Zudi had a change of heart. Maybe General Namen would still win, but the Imperial army was still nowhere to be seen, whereas King Thufi's forces were right at the gates. Lieutenant Dosa was quickly arrested and tied up, and the flags flying over the walls switched to match the banners flapping over the horses coming up the road. (The soldiers on the wall, however, carefully folded and hid the white Imperial flags. One never knew if they might become handy again in a few days—
always be prepared
.)

Mata Zyndu was in full chain armor, with Na-aroénna, the Doubt-Ender, and Goremaw, its companion, on his back. Before they set out, Kuni had asked to see his unusual sword, but it was so heavy that he could barely lift it with both hands, and he stuck out his tongue and laughed at himself as he asked Mata to take it back.

“I could practice for a hundred years and not be one-tenth the warrior you are.”

Mata had nodded at the compliment but said nothing. He could see that Kuni was sincere and not merely trying to curry his favor.
A man who willingly acknowledges his own weakness is strong in his
own way.

Mata's great black stallion, Réfiroa, dwarfed all the other horses just as Mata dwarfed their riders. He strained at the reins, impatient with having to keep pace with lesser horses. Kuni Garu, wearing a traveling tunic, rode next to Mata on an old white mare who had been a draft horse all her life—next to Réfiroa, she resembled a pony or a donkey. Her chief virtue was steadiness, as Kuni was no great horseman.

The odd couple rode side by side and led the Cocru army into Zudi. The Zudi garrison lined up at the gates to welcome them, acting as if they had not been flying Imperial colors just hours earlier. A few of the Zudi soldiers brought over Lieutenant Dosa, trussed up like a sheep bound for the market, and threw him at the feet of Mata and Kuni's horses.

Lieutenant Dosa closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

“Is this the man who betrayed the Duke of Zudi?” Mata Zyndu asked. “I think we'll have him drawn and quartered. And then we'll send the bits to Namen as a welcome present.”

Dosa shuddered.

“That might be an easy end for him,” Kuni Garu said. “But General Zyndu, would you give me the pleasure of dealing with this man?”

“Of course,” Mata said. “He insulted you, so it's only proper that you decide his punishment.”

Kuni got off his horse and walked to the tied-up man.

“You really thought that we had no chance against Namen?”

“Why ask a question whose answer you already know?” Dosa's voice was bitter.

“And you figured that there was no point in wasting soldiers and people's lives.”

Dosa nodded wearily.

“You didn't have much confidence in my ability to defend Zudi.”

Dosa laughed. “You're nothing but a bandit and a gangster! You don't know the first thing about fighting a war!” There was no point in lying. He might as well let this idiot know what he really thought.

“I can see your point. If I were in your position, I might have done the same.” Kuni knelt down and untied Dosa. “Since you were trying to save the lives of the people of Zudi, including the lives of my parents, brother, and in-laws, according to the teachings of Kon Fiji, it would be wrong for me to punish you harshly, even if you did betray me. But I assure you that we'll beat old man Namen and his Imperial thugs. As for your punishment, I'm leaving you in charge of the men who had followed you, so that you can now teach them faith and courage.”

Dosa could hardly believe his ears. He looked at his freed arms. After a moment, he knelt before Kuni Garu and touched his forehead to the ground.

Mata Zyndu frowned. This was surely a mistake. The Duke of Zudi seemed to have a woman's mercy and little sense of discipline. To be so lenient to a traitor would only invite more betrayals in the future, but since he had already said that the man's fate was up to Kuni, he couldn't intervene.

He shook his head and decided not to worry about it for now. There was still much to be done. Namen's forces could arrive at any moment.

During the time Dosa was in charge of Zudi, he had left Kuni's and Jia's families alone. Kuni was grateful when he heard this and even more certain that he made the right decision to spare Dosa.

Kuni first went to visit Gilo Matiza, Jia's father. Gilo received him politely, but he was cold and distant, and Kuni understood that the man still didn't trust that Kuni's position was secure; he quickly left.

The reception at Féso Garu's house was rather different. Mata had come along with Kuni to pay his respects to the co-commander's parents.

Kuni ducked as a shoe was thrown at his head.

“How many more times do you want to put your mother and me in danger with your reckless ways?” Féso shouted from the doorway. Anger made his eyes round as plums, and his bushy white beard floated up like the whiskers of a carp as he labored to catch his breath. “I just wanted you to find a nice girl and settle down with a real job; instead, you've gone and made it so that the whole clan could lose our heads at any minute!”

Kuni ran away, wrapping his arm protectively around his head as another shoe sailed past.

“Kuni, I know you're trying to do the right thing,” shouted Naré as she struggled to hold back Féso. “Stay away for a bit while I try to talk some sense into your father.”

Mata was stunned by this display. Having grown up an orphan, he had always wondered what it might be like to have a father. The scene between Féso and Kuni was not something he ever imagined.

“Your father is not proud of your achievements?” asked Mata. “But you've become a duke! That's surely the highest honor in at least ten generations of Garus?”

“Honor is not everything, Mata,” said Kuni as he nursed the spot on his shoulder where the first shoe had struck. “Sometimes parents just want their children to be safe and ordinary.”

Mata shook his head, unable to understand such common sentiments.

In contrast to his relatives, Garu's old followers, those who had gone into the Er-Mé Mountains with him to become bandits and who had then come with him to Zudi to become rebels, were ecstatic to have Kuni back. During his absence, some had obeyed Dosa only reluctantly, while others resisted outright and had been imprisoned.

Otho Krin, the awkward youth who had brought Jia to Kuni in the mountains, was one of these. Kuni went to the city jail right away and unlocked the door to the dank cell himself. Otho blinked at the sudden appearance of light.

“I'm sorry for how much you've endured on my behalf,” Kuni said, and he helped Otho stand up from his straw mattress. Then he bowed down to Otho. Wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeves, he added, “I'm ashamed that all of you who have followed me have suffered so much. I vow today that I will never consider this debt I owe you repaid until I have brought you, my brothers, all the riches and honor that you deserve.”

All of his old followers who had come to the prison with him knelt and bowed back.

“Lord Garu, do not speak in this way! We cannot bear it!”

“We will follow you to the top of Mount Kiji and the bottom of the Tazu whirlpool!”

“We're blessed by the gods to have a generous lord like you, Lord Garu!”

Mata frowned at this breach in etiquette—he could not understand how a superior like Kuni could bow to a servant like Otho Krin, and now these lowly peasants were speaking in such foolish ways.

A momentary smile appeared on Cogo's face before fading away. No matter how many times he saw it, he was still amazed by how Kuni's sincerity shaded into an instinct for political theater. He was, of course, moved by the loyalty of a man who would rather be in jail than betray him, but he also knew to play it for all it was worth to cement even more loyalty.

“Is . . . Lady Jia here?” Otho asked, his voice trembling.

Kuni held him by the shoulders. “Thank you, Otho, for caring about her so much. Lady Jia remained behind in Çaruza because it's too dangerous for her to be here . . . in her condition.”

“Oh,” Otho said, and he could not hide his disappointment.

“Cheer up,” Kuni said, and laughed. “Why don't you write to Lady Jia? You were friends in the Er-Mé Mountains, right? I'm sure she'll be glad to hear from you.”

Kuni and Mata let it be known that any survivors from the Krima-Shigin Expeditionary Force were welcome to join them at Zudi. Small bands of straggling soldiers wandering the Cocru countryside after the fall of Dimu heeded the call, and soon the five thousand men at Zudi swelled to more than eight thousand.