As he tied up his horse, Sen emerged from the tea house to greet him. Like Akira, Sen was alone. They greeted each other as old friends, and Sen invited him into the tea house.
The house was warm and cozy, heated by a roaring fire and protected from the brisk winter air by surprisingly thick walls. They sat down and Sen served him tea. Akira watched with interest. Sen was old, but every movement he made was sure and precise. He had a great many cycles left to live, and Akira was glad it was so. When his tea was prepared, Akira sipped at it gently. It was a delicate blend, the best he had tasted in some time. Akira complimented Sen, and as was appropriate, they spent the first part of their time together speaking of trivial matters. A part of Akira wanted to hurry and get to the point, but a few moments here made no difference in the larger scheme of things, and the tradition was comforting. Akira found himself relaxing and enjoying his time with Sen. The tension fell away from his shoulders.
He had known the older lord since he was a child. He remembered trips to the Northern Kingdom every cycle with his father, meeting Sen and sitting on his lap. At the time, Sen had been one of the youngest rulers of a kingdom, although well into adulthood. Now, so many cycles later, Sen was still here, and he was the only other person alive who knew what it really meant to be a lord.
It was Sen who brought them to the point at hand, and Akira was almost disappointed when the peaceful spell was broken. “The world has been shifting. I was sorry to hear about Tanak.”
Akira couldn’t decide between honesty and politeness, so he kept his tone neutral. “It was a surprise to learn about his death.”
Sen allowed the silence to grow between them. Akira considered several approaches to broaching the question, but Sen knew him well. Straightforward and honest was his best bet. “I would like nothing more than to sit and talk, old friend, but the time for decisions is at hand. I have come here to ask for your aid in repelling the Azarian invasion. There are no troops better suited for mountain warfare than yours, and we desperately need more men.”
Akira let Sen have time to think. He suspected Sen had guessed Akira’s purpose before the visit, but these weren’t decisions to be made lightly. While he waited, he poured them each some more tea. Technically, it was rude for the guest to pour tea for the host, but Sen understood the gesture for what it was, a simple kindness. He sipped softly at his tea while he looked out on the snow-covered landscape outside. When Sen spoke, his voice was soft, as if he feared that if he spoke too loudly the fragile peace that existed would be torn apart.
“I do not know if I am willing to entrust my troops to you. My heart wants to believe you, but events of the past moons have made me doubt your motives. I would be a foolish lord indeed if I entrusted the safety of my kingdom to one who acted so rashly this past summer.”
Akira controlled his reaction. He had hoped Sen had forgiven him, but there was no reason to. No words he could say would change Sen’s mind. The old man always thought carefully, and if he said something, it was final. Akira had prayed it wouldn’t come to this, but he couldn’t leave the valley without Sen’s troops. He hadn’t even told his closest advisers of his real plan. “I understand. If you wish, I would be willing to cede the lordship of the Southern Kingdom to you if you would lend your aid. All I ask in return is that you work with my two remaining generals. They are experienced and have valuable advice to provide.”
Sen studied Akira closely, the only sound in the teahouse the crackling of the burning wood. “You would relinquish your claim to the Southern Kingdom?”
Akira nodded. He knew the implication. The Kingdom would be whole again, but he wouldn’t be king. “The last report I received from General Toro indicated several tens of thousands of Azarians ready to advance on our land, reinforced by an unknown number of hunters. They don’t mean to retake Fort Azuma, as Tanak somehow imagined. They mean to take all our land. The only place we can stand against them is the northern opening to the pass. But we’ll need every soldier we can get. The continuation of our kingdoms is all that matters. If that means giving up command, I do so gladly.”
Sen sipped at his own tea, finally standing and pacing the room. Akira sat still, allowing the older lord the opportunity to decide on his best course of action. Sen was a strong ruler, and no words from Akira would sway his decision one way or the other.
Sen stopped and stared at Akira, as though it were some sort of trap. “Would you insist on being second in line to the throne?”
Akira shook his head. “The decision would be entirely yours. I would be honored to serve, but you can use me in whatever capacity you think best. You are well-loved across the kingdoms, and my people will follow you without question.”
Sen continued his pacing. He spoke, and Akira was surprised, as it almost seemed as though he was thinking aloud. “You surprise me, Lord Akira. After the Conclave, I was convinced you were a man driven by pride. Your actions were desperate, and you didn’t give up your land then, even though it would have reunited the kingdom.”
Akira frowned, speaking before he realized he might offend the older lord. “You and Tanak were coordinated against me. I am proud of my kingdom, and I couldn’t bear to lose it to such political conniving.”
The older lord chortled to himself. “You believe Tanak and I were allies? That I knew and supported his campaign through my actions? That explains much.”
“What do you mean?” Akira couldn’t hide his confusion.
“I can see where you might have thought that. But this is the truth: I never coordinated with Tanak any more than I coordinated with you. I was willing to give up my kingdom because I desperately want to see the land reunited once again, even if it meant allowing Tanak to become our first king.”
The whole world shifted for Akira, and in one moment he realized just how wrong he had been. He ran through the entire Conclave in his mind again, seeing it with a new perspective. He had underestimated Sen, terribly.
Akira bowed his head to the floor. “Forgive me, Lord Sen. I have been a fool.”
Sen laughed, and Akira looked up. “If only we could have had this conversation several moons ago. We’d live in a very different world. Well, there’s no point dwelling on the past. What would you say if I suggested we merge our kingdoms today?”
Akira was glad to already be sitting. It was the last thing he had expected Sen to say.
Sen continued. “Furthermore, I would take you up on your offer to relinquish your status. I would ask that you not be anywhere in line for the throne. Already, one lord has died with you underneath him. I would be foolish to become the second.”
Akira didn’t rush to speak. He had come for troops, but if there was a chance to reunify the kingdoms once and for all, wasn’t that an even better solution? He breathed in deeply and replied with a question. “Would you defend the pass with all your strength?”
Sen nodded. “I believe your reports about the Azarians. My own shadows have echoed your concerns.”
Now it was Akira’s turn to stand and pace. He hadn’t expected a gesture so grand. To be reunified, just when it was most needed, was the exact step they needed to take if they were to have a chance against the Azarians. He would be a fool to refuse the offer.
It would be hard to give up his authority, but he trusted Sen. Sen led his kingdom well, and his people were happy and prosperous, an even more incredible feat considering the difficult terrain they carved their lives out of. Handing over the Southern Kingdom was the right action to take. Sen deserved to be the kingdom’s first king.
Akira nodded. “I accept your offer. It is very generous of you, and I believe you would make an excellent king.”
Sen studied him again, and Akira felt like Sen could see right through him. Could it really be this easy? The Three Kingdoms had existed for over a thousand cycles, and now they may unify in less time than it took to drink two cups of tea.
Sen spoke. “Lord Akira, this is my suggestion. I have lived for many cycles, and I want to see our kingdoms unified. I was hurt this summer when the Conclave failed, but I believe you have the best interests of the land at heart. I will cede the Northern Kingdom to your care, and you shall become king of the Kingdom, reformed once again. War is a task for the young, and I wish to prepare my people for the imminent invasion. I will act as first in line to the throne, but my land and my troops are yours.”
Words couldn’t express Akira’s emotions. Joy, pride, gratitude and hope all surged through his heart at the same time. He never could have anticipated the conversation taking the turn it had. He bowed to Sen, all the way to the floor. “I do not know what to say.”
Sen smiled. “Sometimes it is best not to say anything at all.”
Suddenly Akira was a child again, looking up to Sen and marveling at his wisdom. The man who was a lord fell away, and Akira faced Sen as he was. “Sen, I’m scared for our land. Even together, I’m not sure we can stand against the Azarians.”
Sen nodded. “I am too, but we’ll fight them together.”
They sat and talked until the sun was high in the sky. There was much to accomplish, but they set out the basic terms of the treaty that would unify their lands. Both were willing to compromise, so the treaty was easy to form. The sun was setting when they finally finished. With another tremendous bow of gratitude, Akira left the tea house, eager to begin the return journey. He had entered the valley a lord, but he left it a king, the first the land had seen in over a thousand cycles.
Chapter 7
The cold wind blew down from the pass, but Nameless didn’t care. He was demon-kind, and weather had no meaning to him. He was separate, above such small concerns as wind or rain. But his people kept to their shelters. It was not often so cold further south in Azaria, but despite their discomfort Nameless didn’t dare allow the clans to spread too far from the pass. Their alliance was fragile as it was, continuing to exist only due to great need. The winter had barely begun and already food was an issue. They had found a little in the fort, and his demon-kind were scouring the mountains for game, but it would be a hard winter. It would destroy the weak.
Nameless did not believe in anything greater than himself. He held to no god and no belief system. There was only his own strength and skill. He stifled the urge to pray for the pass to open as soon as possible. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the People looking forward. Even his own demon-kind were having trouble following the narrow game trails which led to the Southern Kingdom. If the winter season continued its ferocity, he’d soon be completely shut off from news of the Three Kingdoms.
Today, however, Nameless was grateful for the wind and the snow. He wandered far afield of the collection of clans, allowing his abilities to guide him. He could feel the old man, a beacon in these desolate plains. Those of the clans wouldn’t give him a second look, but his presence was as bright as the sun to Nameless and his gift.
He came upon the old man when the sun was high in the sky. The old man certainly knew Nameless was present, but made no move to recognize him. Nameless knew the old man’s mind was wandering far and wide, seeing events far beyond the sight of a normal human. It was a useful skill, but one Nameless did not understand. It would be far too much to say that Nameless was scared of the old man, but being in the presence of such an unknown caused him discomfort.
The head of the Azarians sat down and waited patiently. He didn’t know if the old man was actually focused elsewhere or if he just enjoyed making Nameless wait. For most, such an idea would be unthinkable, but the old man didn’t fear Nameless. He knew he was too useful to be killed. Nameless wasn’t a man known for his patience, but this old man was the only one alive who possessed the skill of far-seeing, and Nameless required him. Whether the old man was teasing him or not, he had to bear it for a while longer yet. The moment the Three Kingdoms were conquered, Nameless would end the old man and rejoice in his death.
When the old man opened his eyes, Nameless was ready. “What news, old man?”
“There is much happening to the north.”
“I know that. I would hear of it.”
Nameless’ companion sighed, as if he wearied of such a rush.
“The young man, the one who strikes as fast as the wind, wanders back to the place he called home once before. But there is something different about him now. He is silent, and if I were to guess, I would say he has lost his gift.”
The news startled Nameless. He did not know the lore of the nightblades in the north, but no demon-kind in his memory had ever lost the gift. He didn’t think such a thing was possible.
The old man chuckled softly to himself. “It is not unheard of. You should spend more time studying and less time conquering. There is much to learn.”
Nameless almost drew his blade then. Skill or no skill, he wouldn’t tolerate such disrespect from anyone. But the old man was too useful, and he knew it. Nameless wondered if the seer had a death wish.
“You’ll be pleased to learn two of the demon-kind have found him. They are on his trail now. I expect they believe he will lead them to the young woman who cut you.”
“And what of her?” Nameless could barely control his anger at the thought of her. She would die at his hands. That was a promise he had made to himself.
“She is the void. I cannot feel her from here. I’m not sure I could if she was right next to me. But two more demon-kind have fallen, only a few days from the place the two of them used to live. I suspect it was her.”
“How can you know?”
The old man shrugged. “There’s nothing else that can kill us without me noticing it.”
Nameless stood and paced, although his pacing was more akin to a light jog for most people. In his larger plan, the loss of two demon-kind was but a drop of water in a sea, but each one was valuable to him. Each one had a gift that should not be wasted. Never before had the demon-kind fallen as prey to others. If word were to get out, the fragile truce that held between the clans would melt like fat in a frying pan. The nightblades had to die.