The Veiled Throne, page 39
He was too far out to swim back. If he wanted to live, his only choice was to climb onto the city-ship. And so that was what he did. There were no rope ladders or dangling lines to help him. At first, he used the barnacles as handholds and footholds, and then, after these ran out, he had to make use of every tiny depression in the planking, seek out every narrow seam in the hull, scale up a wall sheerer than any cliff he had ever climbed. Several times, he almost fell, but by sheer force of will he had hung on, and blood seeped from his fingers and toes as his nails broke, making him scream and moan.
After he finally made it onto the deck, he collapsed and blanked out.
In the morning, he was discovered by a lone garinafin rider practicing maneuvers overhead. She turned out to be Tanvanaki, Pékyu Tenryo’s favorite daughter. When Tanvanaki landed on the deck of the city-ship, her mount, Korva, hissed and backed up, ready to kill him with a fiery tongue-lash, but Tanvanaki had stopped her, regarding him with curiosity.
Despair seized him, and he made to leap off the side of the empty city-ship, but Tanvanaki ordered him to halt.
She asked him how he had come to be there, and he explained.
“You swam all the way here?” She was incredulous. “But the water is freezing! And you climbed up here from the sea with no bone claw, no tiger tusk, no sinew rope?”
He showed her his bloody fingers and toes.
“I’ve never known any Lyucu like you,” she said, her look one of wonder.
He thought he knew what she meant. “I’m bad luck,” he croaked. “I can never ride or be near a garinafin. There’s no place for me in Ukyu-Gondé. Let me die.”
“No, you’re not bad luck,” she said. “I don’t believe in luck, good or bad. I believe in deeds. Even the Thane of the Tribe of the Scarred Whale would have drowned before she could swim halfway here from the shore in such frigid waters, and even my father’s nimblest garinafin pilot couldn’t have climbed onto this smooth-hulled ship. You’ve done something that no other Lyucu has ever done, and that is something to be praised, not feared.”
He wept at that. And he was ready to do whatever she wanted him to from that point on.
Tanvanaki sent him on many dangerous missions: retrieving eggs from nests on unreachable cliffs; diving for a pin she accidentally dropped into the sea; spying on thanes she suspected of disloyalty.
Later, when Tanvanaki went with Tenryo to conquer Dara, he came along. During the journey to Dara, she sometimes sent him to bring messages to the other city-ships without the use of a boat. Swimming through the belt current and climbing up the sheer hulls of the city-ships were feats that no other Lyucu dared, and he took pleasure in the fact that she, the best garinafin pilot, trusted him though he couldn’t be near a garinafin at all.
In Ukyu-taasa, he became even more useful to her. The natives of Dara led lives much more reliant on the sea, and built many more ships. He spied for her on the carpenters on the floating wharf, and kept an eye on the goings-on on the Dara ships during tribute missions. He was how she kept an eye on her enemies, and he did things for her that no one else could.
He dug his fingers and toes into the soft wood under the porthole. His digits were tipped with metal claws that kept him securely attached and had been specially made for him—these claws were some of the best things he had been given in Dara.
As the breeze passed over his wet clothes, the spy shivered. He had to suppress the urge to cough. A little discomfort was nothing.
He had finally found his place, a place that no one else could take. He pressed his ear up to the porthole.
* * *
“If you’re not leaving until late tomorrow,” said Noda Mi, “I can pay another visit in the morning. Have you seen the Lyucu art of wrestling? It’s very impressive. I’ll bring a pair of culeks to give you a demonstration.”
“Watching two naked bodies rolling around could be fun, but I prefer doing to watching for entertainment,” said Lady Ragi casually, a flirtatious smile on her face.
“Oh?” Noda Mi’s ears perked up. He really liked this new emissary. “So what do you like to do for fun?”
“I subscribe to the Fluxists’ love for nature,” said Ragi. Her gaze grew dreamy. “The carpenters told me about the natural springs in the Roro Hills to the north of Kriphi. I hear that the pools are like Tututika’s heavenly baths dropped on earth, and the rare crimson-tailed woodpecker performs feats of aerial acrobatics that are unparalleled in all the Islands.”
Noda Mi chuckled. “I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve been misinformed. I’ve been there, and it’s nothing special. The water is cold and there are sharp rocks at the bottom of the pools. As for the woodpeckers, they’re very shy creatures, almost impossible to see.”
A few carpenters from unoccupied Dara, maintained at the expense of the Dandelion Court, were kept year-round on the floating wharves to maintain the wooden structures, which had been built at Tanvanaki’s command to prevent the tribute ships from having direct contact with the population of Kriphi. The Lyucu did not allow the carpenters onshore at all. Isolated for months in cramped huts on a few floating boards that didn’t sail anywhere and wholly dependent on their Lyucu hosts for everything, they soon grew stir-crazy. Noda could easily imagine how their confinement only made nearby scenic spots that they could never experience sound even more enticing. No doubt the carpenters had filled Lady Ragi’s head with their fantasies.
“Surely a dip in a secluded pool is the best way to spend a summer morning,” said Lady Ragi, smiling at Noda. “I am a very good swimmer, and I have a weakness for shy but beautiful birds. A trip there in the company of a powerful duke would be so delightful…. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
Noda Mi’s heart sped up as he imagined Lady Ragi’s unclothed body parting the water in the natural spring like a graceful dyran…. With some effort, he pulled himself back into reality. “I’m afraid not. The pékyu has made it clear that no Dara-raaki is allowed outside this floating wharf-town.”
Lady Ragi flinched at the use of the Lyucu slur for the natives not under Lyucu rule. Literally, “raaki” meant “impure,” “muddy,” “filthy.”
“Err…” Noda Mi was seized with regret. He had become so used to speaking like one of the Lyucu that he no longer felt the sting of the slur. “Forget about the natural spring. If you don’t like wrestling, I could arrange for a demonstration from the garinafin riders—”
“A pity,” said Lady Ragi, a hint of mockery creeping into her voice again. “I thought the duke was a powerful man in this land, but I suppose you’re but a native, after all.”
Noda Mi’s face flushed. “That has nothing to do with it. No one, not even Garinafin-Thane Goztan Ryoto or Tiger-Thane Vocu Firna, is allowed to bring any Dara-ra—uh, visitors from the rest of Dara, onshore without a direct order from the pékyu or the emperor. This has been the rule since the beginning.”
“I’ve heard that a dog that’s fed scraps sometimes starts to think he’s a person,” said Lady Ragi sardonically. “But he remains a dog, and at night he’s kicked outside and the door locked behind him.”
Noda Mi slammed his cup down on the table. “How dare you! Such insolence… such gall… you have no—”
Lady Ragi’s pose remained relaxed. “I’m not finished. Instead of dogs, let’s talk more about… birds. As I said, I have a weakness for shy but beautiful birds. The crimson-tailed woodpecker doesn’t just settle for any tree, does it?”
The seeming non sequitur confused Noda Mi. “What?”
“It is said that these rare woodpeckers prefer trees that yield just the right sound when pecked. They knock on a trunk to see if it gives a lingering ring. Trees that sound too muffled don’t have enough grubs to be worthwhile, but trees that sound too loud have been hollowed out, dead or on the verge of dying. There’s no shame for a woodpecker to flit from tree to tree. After all, a bird must do what makes the most sense for the bird.”
“I’m impressed by your knowledge of birds,” said Noda Mi. Now that he had a chance to calm down, he was beginning to grasp Lady Ragi’s gambit. Some things couldn’t be discussed directly, and had to be couched in metaphors to be plausibly deniable. “But surely a woodpecker who has abandoned one tree for another cannot expect to return to the first tree. The bird wouldn’t have left if that tree wasn’t already dying.”
“Trees are resilient,” said Lady Ragi. “Sometimes they recover and become stronger than ever… strong enough to dream about challenging other trees for space and sunlight.”
So they’ve recovered from the time of the Battle of Zathin Gulf, perhaps sufficiently confident of their own power to contemplate an invasion of Ukyu-taasa. Noda Mi pondered the news. And they want me to help them, over there in Pan.
His heart quickened at the highly risky conversation he found himself in. Lady Ragi, he vaguely recalled, had been one of the war orphans raised by Jia when she had been the Hegemon’s hostage in Çaruza. Later, she served the empress as one of her ladies-in-waiting. Of course Jia would only send someone she absolutely trusted on a mission to recruit a spy.
This wasn’t the first time that he had had second thoughts since joining the Lyucu. Lady Ragi’s mockery had struck closer to home than he cared to admit. No matter how much he strove to prove himself in Ukyu-taasa, he would always be an outsider to the Lyucu, always viewed with some suspicion. Maybe it was time to evaluate his options more carefully.
“But would a healthy tree have enough grubs for the returning woodpecker?”
Lady Ragi smiled. “Datralu gacruca ça crunpén ki fithéücadipu ki lodü ingro ça néficaü. Even here, under the noses of your pékyu and my empress, we carry on a trade that may not be acknowledged. To return to our theme, no tree is so healthy that it doesn’t have some grubs to feed the worthy woodpecker.”
“There may be more grubs in the trees here in Ukyu-taasa than in the core islands.”
“A clever woodpecker, I understand, will test out several trees before picking one as its perch. In fact, a really clever woodpecker will continue to try out new trees even after it has made a choice for nesting, both to get a better variety of grubs and in case a better tree presents itself.” Lady Ragi paused and looked at Noda intently. “Or if the tree it has chosen starts to die.”
“It’s easy to make wild predictions about the deaths of trees,” said Noda Mi. There’s no point in appearing too eager, he thought. It’s all fine and good to keep options open, but some reluctance will only add to my value. “But as you said: Trees are resilient—especially when a… shy and beautiful woodpecker is helping to protect the tree.”
“The woodpecker would know best whether its nesting tree is dying or not, of course,” said Lady Ragi. “But how healthy can a tree be that requires constant feeding and care by outsiders?”
Noda Mi considered this. The amount of “gifts” the Dandelion Court brought to Rui and Dasu had increased every year, and the pékyu had been portraying this as a sign of the Lyucu’s strength. But what if it’s not? What if the need for quarterly injections of food and the pékyu’s tolerance for private trade conducted in the shadow of the tribute fleet only indicate weakness?
He remembered Tanvanaki’s fury-infused face as she demanded that he work harder to acquire—through kidnappings and abductions—skilled engineers from Dara. Maybe the pékyu is more terrified than she lets on. He resolved to look closer into the tax collection and harvest records the next time he got a chance. He had always found such information boring, but it seemed that he needed to peck at this trunk he was on to see just how sound it was.
“Thank you for this most invigorating ornithological discussion,” he said. “You may let your bird-watcher know that a certain woodpecker is willing to test out other trees.”
“How about a test right now?” said Lady Ragi. “I happen to have another crate aboard, filled with wines taken from the cellar of Zyndu Castle in Tunoa. Some of the bottles go back to the time of Marshal Dazu Zyndu, the Hegemon’s grandfather.”
Noda smiled. “Oh, that is a most generous gift for a woodpecker.”
“Who said anything about a gift? The woodpecker has to work for his grub.”
Noda’s smile froze. “What do you mean?”
“I think the woodpecker needs to peck a little, as a demonstration of good faith.”
Noda closed his eyes and thought over the situation. He definitely wanted to keep his options open, given the possibility that Ukyu-taasa was weaker, and Dara proper stronger, than he had thought. Should the Lyucu fall, he would have to face the people he’d betrayed.
But he wasn’t quite ready yet to risk his life as a spy for the Dandelion Court for a crate of plum wine, no matter the vintage. He needed to give Lady Ragi something, but it couldn’t be anything too important, or anything that would harm his own interests.
“I understand that some shoreline villages on the Big Island and Arulugi have been plagued by pirates,” said Noda. “You might want to do something about that.”
“That some of the pirates are raiding for goods to sell to the Lyucu is well known,” said Lady Ragi. “I think you need to peck harder.”
“Raiding for goods to sell, you say? Perhaps that isn’t all they have in mind,” said Noda. “Big cities, especially places like Dimu and Dimushi, may have other attractions. I think I’ve said more than enough.”
Lady Ragi regarded him coolly. “Perhaps. As another demonstration of good faith, I’d like you to take a message from Empress Jia to Emperor Thaké.”
Noda’s eyes bulged. “Do you think my skull is filled with air? I’m not going to risk my life by delivering a secret message from the enemy.”
“It isn’t secret,” said Lady Ragi. “The empress has not seen her only son in many years, and she misses him. She would like to pass on a message to him, voice to voice, ear to ear, not through the impersonal medium of a diplomatic communiqué. Surely you can understand that?”
Still suspicious, Noda asked, “What is the message?”
“The empress says, ‘Remember that I love you, Toto-tika. Eat well and get plenty of rest. As for your duties: teeth on the board, heart open to the sky.’ ”
Noda mulled over the message. It seemed innocuous enough, as cloying and clichéd as most urgings from mothers to sons were. That bit at the end was a Moralist platitude often recited in the context of loyal ministers, which seemed slightly odd.
“I will not keep this secret from the pékyu,” warned Noda.
“That is fine,” said Lady Ragi. “The pékyu, a mother herself, would understand well that a mother’s love for her son need not be concealed.”
Noda nodded. “I will pass on the message. But that is all. The woodpecker is only looking. He hasn’t agreed to anything.”
Lady Ragi broke into a smile. “I will add your special crate to the stack in the back of the hold.”
They drank, snacked, and talked of inconsequential things.
Lady Ragi spoke of two cashima in Ginpen, who fought over the favor of an indigo-house girl, first by writing her competing poems, and then by dueling in front of her with swords; of the discovery of a dead white snake in the central plaza of Çaruza by the priestesses of Rapa and Kana, widely seen as a good omen; of a famous actor in Pan, who was seen leaving in the company of a wealthy merchant after a big performance and was then caught walking home in his costume the next morning, shamefaced and barefoot.
Noda Mi laughed at the gossip. Trying to impress her, he told her about his life at the court in Kriphi, the number of Lyucu thanes who cultivated him, the native officials who sought him out as a patron, the business deals he had all over Ukyu-taasa. He avoided anything having to do with the military or detailed policies, and Lady Ragi did not probe, only asking silly questions that made him laugh.
Three plum wine flasks were emptied before Noda Mi was satisfied.
* * *
After Noda Mi left, swaying on unsteady legs, Lady Ragi remained at the table. She waved away the servants who had come in to clear away the remains of the meal.
“I’d like some time to myself,” she said, her voice full of exhaustion.
Dealing with the despicable Noda had taken a lot out of her. The odious traitor had taken to putting on the airs of a genteel scholar-official, though he had first risen to power as a barely literate soldier in the Hegemon’s army and then scurried up a ladder of constant betrayals and conniving schemes. Somehow, his pretension to refinement, to culture, to erudition—a naked attempt at salving his deep-seated insecurity—only reminded Ragi more of the reality of his crimes, highlighted the repulsive patterns of his mind, emphasized the vileness of his character.
Every second during the encounter, she had to restrain the urge to beat him to a senseless pulp. What she wanted most now was a long bath to wash off the disgust she felt from being in his presence, but that had to wait. Though she had accomplished most of what she needed, there was still one more critical task. The right opportunity never came up with Noda Mi.
It was already dark. Whale-oil lamps kept the cabin illuminated. The cabin was utterly quiet save for the gentle noise of waves lapping the hull outside the porthole. The cries of distant falcons and gulls drifted through the porthole. She closed her eyes and listened intently. She thought she heard a suppressed cough. From the outside.
She opened her eyes and took a sip from her cup.
Footsteps approached. A man entered the cabin and took the seat opposite her. It was her husband Gori Ruthi, nephew of the late Imperial Tutor Zato Ruthi and a noted Moralist scholar himself. He was a rising star among the farseers of Dara under Zomi Kidosu, the Farsight Secretary.
“You heard everything?” asked Ragi.
“Very clearly,” Gori said. “The voice tube between this cabin and mine did its job. I just finished the full transcription of the conversation based on my shorthand notes.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure the Farsight Secretary will trust him.”
