Jealousy was a terrible, corrosive force and when it stood between two brothers, it would surely destroy one or both of them. Raidan could only guess at the reasons for Sadaiyo Sakehera’s hatred of his younger brother, but one factor might be favoritism.
Sen had made it quite clear, with only a single gesture, which of his sons he loved best, and it was not his Heir.
Keizo sat at his desk and indicated with a wave of his hand that Sen should sit as well. The Lord of Kerala settled down on a cushioned stool with a grateful sigh. His sons moved to stand behind him.
The king regarded his old friend thoughtfully, then spoke. “I’ve tried to keep you as current as possible on the situation, but here is the latest,” he began. “The Soldarans are preparing for an attack, but they won’t be ready for nearly a year. That much you already know. We’ve just learned that there is an outbreak of a deadly disease known as ‘black death’ sweeping through the human population just over the Tono frontier.”
“But this is good!” Sen exclaimed. “This ‘black death’ will pose a serious danger to the empress’s troops. It could do half our work for us, if we’re lucky.”
“I would agree, except that it seems this plague can now attack elvenkind as well as humans. Raidan has received a report from a local doctor working in Tono. He personally tended an entire okui family that had fallen ill, and he fears that they were only the beginning.”
Sen shook his head, clearly troubled by this disturbing new development. “I had problems with human bandits last spring, raiding farms on my southern border,” he said. “There were reports about a strange sickness afflicting some of the folk who’d suffered raids. I figured the bandits had to be the source, though there’d never been any other times I could remember where elves came down with a human sickness. I sent my son Ashinji to investigate. He did find and destroy a gang of raiders but whether any of them carried the illness…” Sen shrugged.
“Did any more folk fall ill after your son wiped out the bandit gang?” Raidan asked.
“Not to my knowledge,” Sen replied. His grey-green eyes darted from side to side, then locked onto the king’s face. “Great Goddess!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just had a thought, and it’s not a pleasant one.”
When Sen failed to elaborate, the king prompted him. “Yes, what is it?”
“If I was the empress, I’d first send a smaller, more mobile force early on, to the northeast, before the first thaw.”
“That would mean…” Raidan began, but Keizo finished his sentence.
“Sending part of our army back to Kerala, further worsening the odds when the major offensive is launched against Tono. We are already outnumbered at least three to one. If we are forced to defend ourselves on two fronts…”
“I don’t think Constantia wants to spend the resources to keep two separate armies in the field at the same time,” Raidan interjected. “Her ultimate goal is the conquest of Alasiri. In order to accomplish this, she must take Sendai. She can’t come straight at us from Darguinia because she won’t be able to get an army through the Shikhat Fens. The surest way to open a road to the capital is by taking the Tono Valley.
“I agree with you, Brother,” Keizo said, “but I also believe that she’ll send a diversionary force into Kerala, regardless.”
As the lengthy discussion progressed, Raidan continued his observation of Sen’s two sons. Sadaiyo, clearly annoyed at having to stand, struggled to hide his displeasure. His arrogant face and proud bearing spoke of one used to getting his way in all things. His garments, though dusty and rumpled from travel, were rich and fashionably cut.
In contrast, Ashinji wore the smooth, expressionless visage of a professional soldier, trained to stand for long stretches of time. Despite his high station, he had chosen to wear the plain, serviceable clothing of a cavalry officer. Only his eyes betrayed his interest in the tactical discussion; Raidan could sense a keen mind behind the blank face.
The prince felt a momentary pang of pity for Sen Sakehera. The general had always been shrewd, competent, and completely devoid of arrogance. Raidan understood now why Sen loved his younger son with such tender devotion and his Heir, perhaps, not at all.
No good can possibly come of it, Raidan decided.
“Ai, Goddess, I am tired,” Sen grumbled. “I need a hot soak and a good night’s sleep to clear the cobwebs from my head. I’ll be of far more use to you tomorrow, Majesty.”
“Please forgive me, old friend,” Keizo apologized. “I am keeping you from your much needed rest.” He glanced at Sen’s sons. “I’m sure all of you will be happy to seek your beds.”
“There is one last thing I want to discuss with you before we go,” Sen said. The king nodded. “Last spring, I took a young girl into my employ…a hikui refugee, fled from her home in Amsara, the Soldaran duchy across my southern border.”
Raidan sensed an immediate, profound change in the attitudes of both younger Sakeheras. They stood like two hounds, alert and quivering, one with hostility, the other with apprehension.
“From Amsara, you say?” Keizo leaned forward with interest. “What about this girl?”
“A few weeks ago, she saved my life during a hunting accident. If it hadn’t been for her sharp-shooting, I would have been gutted on the tusks of a wild boar.” Sen chuckled. “I’m still amazed by it. A single arrow, right through the eye! Anyway, as a reward for saving my sorry backside, I promised to present her to you.” Abruptly, Sen’s cheerful expression turned serious. “Majesty, she is seeking information on the identity of her sire.”
“Who is an elf, I presume?” Keizo asked.
“Yes.” Sen gazed intently at the king. “She has a signet ring which she claims the man who fathered her gave to her human mother, so she would know that she came from a noble elven house.” Sen paused.
Raidan stared at his brother. Keizo now sat rigidly upright in his chair, his fingers clenched and bone-white upon the armrests. “Go on,” the king said slowly.
“I have the ring with me. I promised Jelena that I’d show it to you. I believe that you may be able to shed some light on…on her possible identity.”
“Show me the ring now,” the king commanded, holding out his hand.
Without another word, Sen reached into a small pouch at his belt and withdrew an object, which he dropped onto Keizo’s open palm.
The king stared at the ring in his hand for several heartbeats, then closed it up in his fist. He leaned back in his chair and gazed past Sen’s head, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in a memory.
Raidan stared at the king in astonishment. He recognized the ring immediately as his brother’s, made especially for Keizo and presented to him on the day he had achieved his majority. Supposedly, Keizo had lost it many years ago. Raidan wore a similar ring, in keeping with the tradition of all Onjara princes. Both rings were non-magical copies of the White Griffin Ring of State that now encircled the third finger of Keizo’s right hand.
How, by the One Great Goddess, did my brother’s ring fall into the hands of a half-human girl?
“You say the girl’s name is Ja…”
“Jelena, Majesty. A popular Soldaran name for girls, apparently. She soon proved herself a good worker and became a valuable member of my household. We all became quite fond of her, especially my son Ashinji. So fond in fact, that he married her!”
Keizo focused on Ashinji, his expression unreadable. “Your son is married to this girl? You freely gave your permission?” he asked.
“Yes, Majesty, I did. She had no family to speak for her…so there was no one else I needed to consult.” Sen’s eyes narrowed; his voice remained meticulously neutral.
A disturbing suspicion nibbled at the edges of Raidan’s thoughts. He cast his mind backward in time. A little over eighteen years ago, just before the tragic accident that had set him on the throne, Keizo had returned from a journey in the far eastern reaches of Alasiri, several weeks late and with a poorly mending broken leg. It had taken all of the skills of the court physician and the magical abilities of a well-known mage to restore his brother’s leg to full function. Keizo had always insisted an elderly farmer and his wife had rescued him after he had taken a nasty tumble from his horse.