Eona - Alison Goodman [151]
Kygo’s silence was eloquent. “Has he drawn from his other battalions?” he finally asked.
Tozay shook his head. “No. Mercenaries.”
Kygo blew out a long breath. “It is not as good as him weakening his other forces, but it is better than an alliance. And bringing in paid foreigners will not endear him to the people, either.”
Tozay snorted. “Sethon has never sought the Hua-do in any way.”
Kygo tilted his head in agreement. “Is the east preparing? Stripping the land?”
“There is not much to strip after five hundred years without a dragon’s blessing. But all is being done as you ordered,” Tozay said. “There will be no food for his men. The tribes are preparing maps and scouting enclosed ground.”
“Enclosed ground?” I asked.
“Areas that are reached through narrow gorges and paths,” Kygo said. “It is where a small number can attack a large.”
I leaned forward. “How small is our number, exactly?”
Kygo shot a glance at Tozay.
“We are four and half thousand,” the master fisherman said. “And two Dragoneyes.”
I licked my lips. “I don’t know if even Ido will kill fifteen thousand men,” I said.
Tozay stopped rowing, and looked over his shoulder at me. “He will if you compel him.”
I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What if I don’t?”
Tozay’s face hardened. “Lady Eona, when you stepped into my boat with the palace in flames behind us, you told me you wanted to join the resistance. What did you think you would be doing?” He glanced at the burned hillside. “Quickening crops?”
“Enough, Tozay.” Kygo’s voice snapped with command. “The Covenant of Service was put in place for a reason. It is better if Lady Eona finds it hard to break than if she does not. We don’t want another power-hungry Dragoneye like Lord Ido, do we?”
I stiffened at the edge in his voice. Perhaps I was not completely absolved.
The master fisherman turned and began rowing again. The hull of the junk loomed ahead of us, one round painted eye watching our approach like a startled horse. I pressed my hands together, the grim war-mongering temporarily pushed back by the impending reunion with my mother.
“What is she like, Master Tozay?” I asked, breaking the heavy silence. “My mother, I mean. Has she said anything about me?”
“Lillia does not talk much,” Tozay said gruffly. “But you are the image of her in face and body.” He heaved once more on the oars, the impetus taking us to the side of the junk and the rope ladder. “You will see for yourself in a moment or two.”
I craned back my head to look at the people watching over the raised side of the deck. The ship lanterns behind them cast their figures into silhouette and hid the details of face and form from me. There was, however, one small, slender shape mirroring my intense search.
A sailor quickly descended the ladder and landed lightly in the boat, his deferential bow rocking us to and fro. He took charge of the oars as Kygo mounted the ladder, all the people disappearing from the side as the emperor stepped on board. I followed, with Tozay close behind. The swinging, jolting journey up the wood rungs was, I’m sure, only a few moments, but it felt like a full bell.
Strong hands pulled me up onto the solid deck. I caught a quick image of rough faces and weathered skin before everyone lowered into bows before the Lady Dragoneye. Three rows of men—and one female figure—on their knees, heads bent, waiting for me to release them.
“Rise,” I said, my voice cracking.
As Lillia sat back, our eyes met. I saw fear and hope and a strained smile that held ten years of loss. Tozay was right: we were the image of each other.
Lillia pressed herself against the bulkhead as the deck-boy set a tray down on the fixed table in Master Tozay’s command cabin. The master fisherman had ushered Lillia and me to its spacious privacy once everyone else was on board, calling for tea as he led us down to the mid-deck. We had passed the locked compartment where