But the luckiest find of all had been a mirror, which was packed at the bottom of the girl’s money purse, wrapped in a sheet of paper. At first, they had thought it another piece of jewelry, as it was made with a gilded handle and back. But one day, while idly admiring himself in the mirror, Doru Solofi discovered that the mirror cast an image of a naked woman onto the wall despite its perfectly smooth surface. The wrapping paper around the mirror had given the name and address of the mirror maker, an obscure shop in Haan.
Noda had immediately dispatched trusted messengers to the place, and, as he suspected, found out that the shop had a secret technique for mirror making that they had developed only recently. Though the shop owners were reluctant to produce words of treason, a combination of money and threats against the family had persuaded them to collaborate and make the mirrors that would play a key part in the shows that Noda and Doru put on for their followers.
“Do you remember how we thought the gods might be in favor of our plan when we pledged to be brothers in Pan two years ago?” asked Noda.
Doru nodded.
“I’m beginning to believe it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
“The emperor agrees with me that adding more biography to our curriculum is a good idea,” said Zato Ruthi.
A spring breeze wafted through the instruction hall, bringing with it the fragrance of early-blooming flowers.
“As the sons and daughters of the emperor, it is my hope that the great deeds of important historical figures will inspire you to greater virtue and that the patterns of the past will warn you of pitfalls for the future. I want each of you to spend the next month focusing on a figure of your choice from the recent past. You will study that person’s life in detail and explain his rise and fall, connecting that experience with the broader patterns of history.
“Fara, why don’t we begin with you? Who do you want to study?”
“I want to hear stories about Lady Mira,” said seven-year-old Fara. Three years had passed since the first Grand Examination of the Reign of Four Placid Seas. Though she had lost the baby fat that had once charmed the Lords of Dara, her eyes remained full of mischief and insuppressible delight.
“The Hegemon’s consort?” Ruthi pondered this request and then nodded approvingly. “Lady Mira tried to mitigate the Hegemon’s more volatile tendencies, and in the end she died to demonstrate her faith to her beloved husband. She was a paragon of virtuous womanhood, and a fit choice for a young lady to study. Now, Prince Timu, who is your favorite?”
Timu, now sixteen years of age, knelt up very properly, placed his hands together one behind the other, and slid them up the opposite forearms so that the flowing sleeves covered both—this was a formal gesture he had learned from reading old books, as it showed respect for the teacher by not sullying the teacher’s eyes with leftover wax and stray ink on the student’s fingers. He bowed his handsome face. “Master, I would like to study the deeds of King Jizu.”
Phyro rolled his eyes. Fara giggled and covered her mouth.
“Ah.” Ruthi’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “That is an admirable choice. Of all the Tiro kings during the rebellion, Jizu was certainly one of the most virtuous. He loved the people more than life itself, and his sacrifice is rightfully celebrated by poets and wandering storytellers alike. Designating him as a model for emulation speaks well of your character. What about you, Prince Phyro?”
“I want to hear all about the Hegemon and Queen Gin,” said the stocky twelve-year-old, who had grown much taller and more muscular in the last three years.
Ruthi hesitated. “The Hegemon did have nobility of character—a fact that the emperor recognized in his eulogy; I can understand the appeal. But why Queen Gin?”
“The Hegemon was the greatest warrior of Dara, yet Queen Gin defeated him—what tales of daring must lie behind that fact! Uncle Yemu and Duke Kimo often reminisce about the time they fought with her, but I’m sure there are stories they won’t tell me. Please, Master Ruthi, you have to satisfy my thirst for knowledge!”
Ruthi sighed. “I shall do my best, but you have to do the reading! I may begin by assigning you my essay on her conquest of Rima…. Remember, not all the rumors you’ve heard are true.”
Théra and Phyro exchanged knowing smiles.
Ruthi turned to the last student. “Princess Théra, what about you?”
The fourteen-year-old princess, whose face combined the beauty of her mother with a hint of her father’s impish looks in youth, hesitated only for a moment before replying, “I want to study Princess Kikomi.”
Ruthi frowned. “Théra, Kikomi chose to betray the rebellion out of her foolish devotion to Kindo Marana, Marshal of Xana. She played upon the affections of the Hegemon and the Hegemon’s uncle, seducing both with her wiles. She was fickle of character and unwise in her actions—a most unsuitable choice.”
Théra’s eyes flashed. She took a deep breath. “I respectfully disagree, Master. I believe Kikomi was misunderstood, and I intend to rehabilitate her name.”
“Oh? How do you mean?”
“The charge that she was motivated by love for Kindo Marana is based only upon the words she uttered before her death. There is no hint in any of the records of Kindo Marana that such a romance existed between the two.”
“We know that she took him to bed after the fall of Arulugi—this was attested in the trusted memoirs of palace officials in Amu.”
Théra shook her head. “She was his captive by then. Her actions might have been an attempt to seduce him to save Amu. Müning fell but wasn’t sacked, which suggests she accomplished the same feat as Jizu: a deal with the conqueror to save the city.”
“Then what of her manipulation of the Hegemon and Phin Zyndu?”
“Could the ploy not have been the price exacted from her by Marana in exchange for sparing Amu? Marana was known to press every advantage to divide and conquer his enemies.”
“But she proclaimed her love for Marana even unto death!”
“She had to! If her plot were revealed, the Hegemon would have sought vengeance upon Amu. Her dying words could be an attempt to divert the Hegemon’s rage toward Marana.”
“This is a bold theory… but…”
“It’s no bolder than the ploy of Tututika, who during the Diaspora Wars played a similar game of seduction to save Amu from the wrath of Iluthan’s armies.”
“But you’re talking about a goddess—”
“Who is also the patron of Amu. She would have served as a natural inspiration for the princess.”
“You have no evidence—”
“I have read everything I could find concerning Kikomi not written by scholars and historians: memoirs by her adoptive family as well as by mere acquaintances; everything she wrote and was said to have written; gossip, legend, and lore. Practically all these sources agree that she was devoted to her people and ambitious, and I found her essays to be full of insights on the nature of power and the path of history. Her character simply does not match that of the foolish caricature drawn by court historians.”
“Yet history is full of examples of women who have done worse for love—”
Théra shook her head. “That’s just it, Master. If Kikomi were a man, would you have been so convinced that she betrayed her people for a misguided romance?”