The Grace of Kings (81 page)

BOOK: The Grace of Kings
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Cogo Yelu was the first to recover. “How auspicious!” he proclaimed into the stunned silence. “The gods of Dara have together welcomed the hegemon into another realm. We who are left are witnessing the start of a new era of harmonious peace!”

A few other nobles with ears attuned to the shifting currents of politics immediately proclaimed their assent and congratulated Kuni Garu loudly. Others caught on, and a rising tide of praise for King Kuni soon filled the air, almost as cacophonous as the animals had been.

Kuni looked at Cogo and offered a wan smile.
How can we know the will of the gods?
he mouthed.

Cogo swept his arm at the throng.
It's enough they know yours,
he mouthed.

Lord Garu turned to the crowd and nodded slowly, regal and majestic.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

THE CORONATION

DARA: THE FIFTH MONTH IN THE FIRST YEAR OF THE REIGN OF FOUR PLACID SEAS.

A bald beggar in a white traveling cape walked down a road that wound its way through the sorghum fields.

He emerged into a tiny village with only thirty or so houses: plain, simple, poor. He looked around, picked one at random, and knocked on the door. A boy, about eight, opened the door.

“Could a stranger beg for a bowl of porridge, Young Master?” asked the beggar.

The boy nodded, went away, and soon returned with a bowl of warm porridge. He had even cracked an egg on top.

“Thank you,” said the beggar. “Was the harvest good last year?”

The boy looked at the beggar quizzically.

“I've been away,” said the beggar. “On the Big Island.”

“Ah, that explains it. Your accent tells me you're from Rui, but your question makes you sound from away. No, the harvest was terrible. Kiji was angry, it seems, and there were too many rainstorms last fall on Rui.”

The beggar's face fell at this news. “Then it is even more generous of you to share food with a stranger. You're certain your parents will not mind?”

The boy laughed. “There's no need to worry. King Kuni and Prime Minister Yelu ordered grain to be shipped from Géfica, and all of us have plenty to eat.”

“You like the king then? Even though he is not from Xana?”

“We no longer speak of Xana,” said the boy.

“But that's your country!”

The boy shook his head. “This is Rui, an Island of Dara.”

In this remote valley nestled deep in the Damu Mountains, where craggy peaks rose above the clouds like ships drifting in a misty sea, far from the sight and hearing of mortals, the gods of Dara had gathered again.

A simple meal of fruits, nectars, and wild game was laid out on the smooth grass, and the gods reclined or sat around it.

Lutho, Rapa, and Rufizo, the hosts, looked relaxed, joyful, even radiant.

“Of course you look happy,” said Fithowéo. “Your favorites won.”

“Come, come,” said Rufizo. “A new era among the mortals should herald a new era among us as well. Brothers and sisters, let's drink together and heal the discord between us.” He lifted a flagon of mead, and Rapa and Lutho followed suit.

“I've always said that we should have been drinking, not fighting,” said Tututika, and she lifted her flagon in response.

“I care not one whit whether the mortals fight or don't fight,” said Tazu, smirking. “As long as they stay interesting. I enjoyed watching Mata Zyndu make war; I think it will be just as fun to watch Kuni Garu try to keep the peace.” He lifted his flagon as well.

But the other three, Fithowéo, Kana, and Kiji, sat stone-faced and made no move.

“Oh, this will be entertaining,” said Tazu. “I'm glad I came.” He downed his mead without waiting for the others and refilled his flagon.

“The war is over,” said Rapa. “Are we to be less openhearted than the mortals?” When she saw no response from the three holdouts, she turned to focus on her twin sister. “Come, Kana-
tika
, how can you say no to me, your other self?”

“Don't play that game with me!” said Kana. “I should never have listened to you when Fithowéo and I went to retrieve Mata's body. ‘Oh, sister,' you said, ‘let me and Kiji come along. It will be good to have the mortals see all of our
pawi
so that they know how much we all care.' ”

“That is indeed all I wanted!” said Rapa. “We may have taken sides in this war, but in the end, we are the gods of all of Dara.”

“That may sound pretty,” said Fithowéo. “But you
used
Kana and me! You made it seem as if we supported Kuni Garu!”

“Don't forget Kiji,” said Kana. “He hates Mata and Kuni equally, and so she made an even bigger fool out of him.”

They looked over at Kiji, but the Lord of the Air remained quiet, looking thoughtful.

“You wrong me much,” protested Rapa. “In truth, the mortals completely misunderstood the dance I choreographed for our
pawi
. I had meant to show that the gods remained divided—”

“And that was why your ravens and mine were to separate and sort by color,” said Kana, finishing her sister's sentence as she used to do.

“Exactly. And then I suggested that Fithowéo's wolves face off against Kiji's falcons so that the mortals wouldn't get the mistaken impression that Kiji had forgiven Mata Zyndu, the Defiler of Mapidéré's Tomb”—Rapa saw that Fithowéo was about to object—“and also the Greatest Warrior of Dara.”

“But your plan went wrong,” Fithowéo said. “That Cogo Yelu twisted everything and made it appear as if we were all there to show support for Kuni Garu.”

“And everyone listened to him!” lamented Kana. “Can't people think for themselves?”

“Our careful signs will be recorded in the annals of Dara only as the misreading of one man,” said Fithowéo.

“The mortals have never been good at getting history right,” said Tututika. “Ah, my Kikomi.” Her blue eyes moistened.

The other gods fell respectfully silent. All remembered the princess who sacrificed everything to save her people, even her own place in history.

Kiji spoke up for the first time. “Little Sister, Kikomi loved Amu as much as Jizu loved Rima or my Namen loved Xana. My heart weeps for her. Will you drink with me?” He lifted his flagon at her. “To the grace of kings, which fit her better than any crown or mortal tribute.”

After a moment, Tututika nodded, and the two drank.

Then Kiji said, “Too many have died who loved their land as much as Kikomi, Jizu, and Namen.”

Fithowéo and Kana were surprised at this. Of all the gods, Kiji should have been the most angry at how things turned out. The Xana Empire was no more.

But Kiji continued, “Time moves in cycles. The people of Dara were one when they arrived in these Islands, before they divided into the Tiro states. But even then they were of different appearances, indicating that the Ano had been coalesced from many tribes. All the Islands of Dara are now one again, and people may come to love all of Dara as much as they loved their Tiro states. We did promise our mother that we would be the gods of
all
of Dara.”

The gods considered this, and the scowls on Fithowéo's and Kana's faces relaxed.

“If the mortals already believe that we have reconciled, we might as well make it a reality. As long as the people of Xana are treated fairly, I'll speak no more of war. But if Kuni should turn out to be other than what he claims to be, I'll not stand by.”

“Nor will I,” said Fithowéo.

“Nor will any of us,” said Rapa and Kana, together.

And the gods drank and ate and conversed of happier things, and they agreed to retire to Arulugi, the Beautiful Island, as Tututika's guests for a few days.

As they left, Lutho and Rapa stayed a little behind the others.

“I noticed that you never spoke while everyone made speeches,” said Rapa.

“I had nothing useful to say,” said Lutho, smiling.

Rapa lowered her voice, “My tricky brother, suggesting that dance with the
pawi
was a good idea. But how did you know that the mortals would ‘misinterpret' it just the way we wanted?”

“I didn't. There was a chance that they could have interpreted it exactly the way you described it today. The mortals are never predictable, that's what makes working with them so hard.” He paused and then added, “And so much fun.”

“You took a gamble?”

“I prefer to speak of a calculated risk. Pure gambles are more Tazu's thing.”

“I think you have spent too much time observing a certain bandit-­king.”

The voices of the gods faded, and a passing breeze carried some dandelion seeds into the sky over the valley.

All of Kuni's most important advisers and generals were invited to gather in Zudi. The coronation of the new emperor was to occur in a few more weeks. But for now, there was nothing to do but to enjoy the sights of a world at peace and to catch up with old friends.

Rumors spread that Cogo Yelu was building a large estate for himself in Rui. It was so luxurious and extensive that it seemed certain Cogo had been skimming from the Dasu treasury to afford it.

Kuni frowned. Dasu relied on Cogo, now perhaps more than ever. His quick wit in guiding the public opinion after the hegemon's body disappeared was a particular stroke of genius. Sometimes he wondered if Cogo grew impatient with merely advising him . . . in any event, he certainly couldn't afford to have Cogo become complacent.

Kuni invited Cogo to tea.

“We've worked hard to win the hearts of the people,” said Kuni. “But let's not lose them carelessly now that success has been achieved.”

Cogo immediately apologized and begged forgiveness, but he didn't say what he was apologizing for.

Kuni laughed. “I'm not angry at you, Cogo. I understand that if the water is too clear, we will have no fish. A certain amount of privilege is allowed to those who hold power. But let's keep it reasonable, all right?”

Cogo thanked his lord and seemed to leave in such a state of anxiety that he didn't even finish his tea.

The people whispered to one another what a great lord Kuni Garu was.

As Luan Zya strolled through the streets of Ginpen, he watched and listened: Young scholars earnestly debated philosophy in bars; mothers window-shopped with babies strapped to their backs, chanting the times table or the simpler Ano Classics; the great doors of long-shuttered private academies were open, revealing servants sweeping and washing the floors of lecture halls to prepare them for new students.

He arrived at the site of his ancestral estate. The ruins remained undisturbed, but he saw that wildflowers were blooming in the nooks and crannies of the fallen stones: dandelion, butter-and-eggs, fireweed, columbine, chicory. . . .

BOOK: The Grace of Kings
6.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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