The knock came at Sang’s door before noon, while she was cleaning her armour.
“It’s open,” Sang pointed out, rubbing carefully at a stain on her curaiss.
“I noticed,” Typhenon’s voice said. “Can I come in?” At Sang’s nod he stepped inside and knelt on the floor opposite her. At least he didn’t ask why she didn’t use the bed or a chair.
“So, when are we leaving?” Sang asked, glancing up from her work.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you settle the jade?”
“It’s getting settled.”
Meaning they couldn’t go anywhere until it was in hand, but Sang supposed they also had to wait on Kukulkan’s nezumi friend. She wasn’t necessarily eager to plunge back into the Shadowlands, but time was important. They had to move swiftly.
“What do you need?” she asked, setting her dô aside.
“Well, I have to go to an Epiach council tonight. I need a bodyguard of some description.”
Sang raised both brows. “Typhenon, you’ve already introduced me there as a queen. It would be a bit odd if I turned up as a bodyguard.”
“Just thought I’d ask. You know… offer.”
“Offer?”
“Offer. If nothing else it doesn’t look like I’ve ignored you completely or didn’t even think of considering you.”
She gave him a long look. She had to give him points for trying, even if he was inviting her to stand at attention and look dangerous for the duration of a tedious city meeting. “The offer is appreciated,” she said dryly, picking up the cuirass again.
Typhenon nodded, but didn’t get up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sang?”
The bushi repressed a sigh and met the cleric’s gaze steadily. “Yes?”
“What’s wrong?” Typhenon asked, his voice more firm.
“I just said.”
“I don’t believe you.”
A slight narrowing of her eyes and hardening of her jaw were the only physical indications that Sang did not appreciate being called a liar, even if she’d been lying… which she hadn’t. She’d been perfectly fine until Typhenon had started pestering her.
“You are not required to believe me,” she said stiffly.
“Sang, what’s wrong? Please?”
“Why is it so important to you?” she demanded.
“Because I’m your friend!”
She stared at him, the cleric’s sudden assumption that she considered him her friend catching her off-guard. But, she reasoned quickly, southerners often used that word ‘friend’ to refer to just about any kind of associate or companion.
Or bodyguard.
“Fine,” she said, and didn’t even have time to draw breath before Typhenon offered to close the door. “There’s no one out there,” Sang shrugged, “and I don’t intend to talk about it anyway. I’ll concede that yes, there are things on my mind, and no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sure?” he asked, disappointed.
“Yes.”
Typhenon sighed.
“What about you?” Sang asked, seizing the opportunity to shift the topic of conversation away from herself.
“Me?” Typhenon smiled briefly. “I feel like I’m beating my head against a wall.”
“Any reason why?”
Besides trying to talk to me, I mean?
“Everything seems to be spiralling happily out of control.”
“Doesn’t seem that bad.”
“You’re not the one in the middle of it.”
“Could be worse.”
“Oh?”
“You could be in Kukulkan’s shoes.”
He sighed again. “I know.” He glanced at the cuirass. “I’ll let you get back to cleaning your armour.”
“Look,” Sang said as he started to stand up, “if you really think your life is going to be threatened at this meeting then I can turn up if you want. Just let me know if I’ll need my armour ready by then.”
“I doubt anything like that will happen.”
“Just remember that if there is a meeting, Joseph might know about it.”
“I know.” He didn’t seem bothered.
“Well, let me know before you leave if you change your mind.”
He nodded. “And you let me know if you change your mind on that talky thing, too. Although I’m probably not going to hold my breath.”
“It’s not the right time,” Sang said as he left. “Give it a few more months,” she added under her breath as his footsteps receded down the corridor.
By then, either the threat would have passed or she wouldn’t be in a position to worry about it anymore.
**
The bulk of the day went by without anything significant happening. Cleaning her armour took longer than she’d anticipated. The accumulated dirt wasn’t so much of an issue as her wandering attention. Every couple of minutes she’d realise she was staring into the middle distance with her mind far from the task literally at hand. It was the eating dilemma all over again, only in armour form, and this time revolving around Typhenon.
When would he get the hint that she didn’t talk? What was the point of it? Spilling one’s verbal guts merely highlighted how weak one was. What kind of samurai would humiliate herself like that? None. They were supposed to endure, not snivel about how pathetic they were and how unfair life was. It was shameful enough that he and Maiko and Kukulkan had seen how badly Shae’el’s interlude had shaken her.
At least only Typhenon knew about the concubine, and that should not even be bothering her, she reminded herself savagely. Kaji had asked for one, Sang had agreed. That was the end of it.
Do I consider him a friend?
The thought troubled her. Sure, they had been travelling together for a few months now, on and off. They’d saved each other’s lives a few times. He’d come to her wedding. They’d developed, she thought, some kind of understanding of each other betwixt their disagreements. Even if he was impossible to deal with at times, he had always managed to pull through when she asked for his help. But he was harbouring R, and it was hard to consider him a friend when he was protecting that treacherous murderer. She couldn’t comprehend it.
Sang closed her eyes tight and pinched the bridge of her nose, growling softly. So he was her friend. What did it matter? It didn’t mean she’d talk.
“You’re so stubborn you don’t know what’s best for you!”
“I have done everything you’ve asked of me!”
“Everything except talk,” Sang mused softly to herself.
**
When her armour was cleaned to her satisfaction, she spent the rest of her time in the training room working out some kinks. It was dinner time before she knew it, and after leaving the Blade in her cell she made her way to the mess hall then sat down with some food with every intention of cleaning the plate no matter how long it took her. She’d only just started to eat when there was some sort of commotion from a nearby room. Sang was halfway to her feet before she realised that, despite a general rush of footsteps, there were no cries of alarm. When no sounds of fighting or shouts were forthcoming, she lowered herself to the bench and resumed the task of making herself eat, idly watching as the mess hall emptied of people curious to see what was going on. Pretty soon she was the only one in the room, which suited her perfectly. Her present mood preferred solitude. If she was fast enough she might be finished before anyone came back, and she wouldn’t have to endure any ‘eating for three’ remarks or other such nonsense.
She was making some headway when Maiko entered the room, accompanied by a robed, elderly man. The two of them crossed to a distant table, sat, and began talking intently in quiet voices. Sang kept her eyes on her plate. She couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but Maiko seemed to be doing most of the talking. After about five minutes they got up and left the same way they’d come in. The next time Sang lifted her eyes the man was back again, and approaching her table. She realised now that he bore a distinct resemblance to Theosteris, and knew there was only one person he could be. It also meant she could hazard a guess as to what he and Maiko had been speaking of.
He sat opposite her without invitation.
“My condolences on your loss,” Sang said. “He was a good man.”
“And he died protecting people,” Ephiates said.
“He did.”
“I can think of no better death.” He paused. “Except of contented old age. Though that is not a fate any of us will share, I think.”
Sang said nothing. She wasn’t sure how many Yu would prefer dying in bed to dying in battle. It was a debatable point, but not one she felt necessary to argue here and now.
“I have heard that you are a great lady of the Yu Kingdom.”
Bloody Maiko.
“I am,” Sang confirmed, but couldn’t help tacking on: “Recently. Is there something you need?”
“Simply to know why it is that you tarry here.”
Sang made a vague gesture with her fork. “I’m eating.”
“Do you come here often?”
“I am frequently in Typhenon’s company.”
“So it is not Kolskegg’s cuisine but Typhenon’s company that you keep here?”
Sang forbade her eyebrows to lift at that. “Possibly not the kind of company you are thinking of,” she said. “I travel with him.”
“I make no judgement of your relationship with Typhenon,” Ephiates assured her.
“Well, you mentioned him and Kolskegg in the same sentence,” Sang pointed out without even a shadow of a smile.
“He is an easy man to know well,” Ephiates conceded, then amended: “I should say he is an easy man to know, but a difficult man to know well. It is not Kolskegg I am curious about, though.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “So you would rank yourself one of Typhenon’s… companions?”
She was unable to decide if the slight pause in that question was incidental or implying something. “What do you mean by that?”
“You are unfamiliar with the word ‘companion’?”
“No, just the way you phrased that statement,” Sang said frankly.
“I’m not aware if the same is true in your kingdoms, but in Dimrost there is the notion of a band of warriors, a group of stalwart heroes working together. It is a theme that recurs numerous times through history and mythology in my lands, and the term used is a ‘companion’.”
“Then,” Sang said, “in that sense, ‘yes’.”
“Is Kolskegg’s cooking so heavenly, then, that you tarry here instead of accompanying him?” Ephiates asked.
“It’s his Temple,” Sang replied, hiding her confusion. “He goes many places where I don’t follow.”
Was she supposed to accompany him to the bathroom next?
“This is merely a time of rest before we proceed to our next destination,” she added.
“My arrival caused a fair bit of stir,” Ephiates pointed out.
“There was no battle,” Sang replied indifferently.
“You are pre-cognisant to that degree?”
“I could tell by the sound of the commotion,” Sang said, wondering when he’d get to the point—and if there even was one. “There was no conflict.”
“Did you not find it necessary to educate yourself?” the caster tried.
Sang shrugged. “I gathered I would learn what transpired sooner or later.”
“So your energies are precious to you.”
“I’m eating for three,” she almost drawled, figuring it’d be nice to say it to someone else for a change. “Kolskegg keeps telling me I should eat more. So does Typhenon, actually. And just about everyone else.”
Ephiates studied her for a moment longer, then finally seemed to give up. “Perhaps you should accompany me to the main hall. I have bestowed great gifts upon the Primarch. It would be fitting for you to be part of this moment.”
“Very well,” Sang said calmly, glancing briefly at her plate. There was still a great deal of food left on it.
“You do not sound enthusiastic,” he observed.
“Like I said, I’m sure I would learn what transpired sooner or later. But if this is some ceremony then I shall come.”
“I thought your people had a passion for tradition,” Ephiates said. “It is not some dusty ritual that you completed for posterity’s sake.”
“I am not among my people.”
“So it is your people’s rituals you are more passionate about.”
Ah… I understand now. It is Theos’ father after all. He’s trying to figure me out, that’s why he’s taking so long.
“My people’s traditions require that I attend,” Sang said.
“That sounds like a lack of passion. Are there any rituals you are passionate about?”
These days? Just one.
“Certainly.”
“I am a collector of ritual. Perhaps you could educate me some day.”
“Perhaps,” Sang said. “Some day.”
“Sooner rather than later, I hope. Come.”
They stood and he presumed to put an arm around her shoulder. Not a companionable arm, but more of a guide perhaps. Sang tried not to look discomfited, and they walked from the mess hall at a pace she considered more suited to a stroll through gardens.
“If I know Kolskegg well, he will take any opportunity for a ‘booze-up,” Ephiates remarked.
“Yes,” Sang agreed politely. “I am sure I will get my customary cup of juice.”
“If there is one thing Elonans do well, and there are many things Elonans do well, it is throw a party.”
Sang kept her eyes rather carefully focussed on the passage ahead. “They enjoy themselves, I’ve been told.”
“It’s what they do, what they encourage in others. I’ve always found the Elonan way to be laudable, but lacking focus. The idea of promoting enjoyment and a love of life is certainly a necessity, but one can find that in scholarly repose as easily as they can find it in wild revelry. In fact there are some sorts of people who would find more enjoyment in quiet pursuits.”
Sang made a non-committal sound. Kaji was not the scholarly type. A good part of her wanted to steer the conversation to safer grounds, but the rest was almost morbidly interested to see what kind of additional damage could be inflicted, how much more blood could well.
“Shared experience and ritual is what binds people together,” Ephiates went on.
She made another mumble which may or may not have been assent, mentally calculating how many more steps would carry them into the hall and deliberately avoiding all thought of what experiences her husband was ‘sharing’ right now.
“To an extent, people must wish to be bound.”
He did not want to be bound. He never did. He said so himself, after I learned who he really was, that his intentions for seeking me out in disguise ‘were not pure’.
I never asked him what he meant by that.
Sang folded her arms within her kimono sleeves and kept stern control over her features as they approached the threshold of the hall. A far part of her mind wondered if a word existed for a heart that had not only been broken, but for the pieces of it that were slowly and systematically being reduced to shattered splinters.