Eona - Alison Goodman [61]
“But Sethon can’t be emperor. He will destroy the thousand years of peace.”
“Whatever way it goes, the thousand years of peace are over,” Yuso said.
Using the blade at the end of the pike to test the ground, he limped toward the horse and soldier. I wanted to deny his bleak assessment, but the ache in my chest knew he was right. I followed his footprints across the firmer mud.
“Did you say you have a son, captain?” I asked, trying to focus on something other than our tortuously slow progress through the sludge.
He turned, his eyes narrowed. “It would be better for both of us if you forgot I said that.”
“Why?”
“It is forbidden—on pain of death—for an Imperial Guard to have family ties.” He held my gaze. “Do you understand? No one else must know of my son.”
I nodded. “I swear on my dragon I will not tell anyone. But how did you become a father?”
Yuso turned back to navigating the treacherous ground. “I was not born a eunuch, my lady.” He stopped in front of the dead soldier and peered into the man’s slack face. “I sired my son before I was cut. I was very young.”
A few limped steps took him to the horse. He bent and stroked the animal’s mud-caked neck. “One of our mares, poor girl.” He looked up at the ridge, gauging its stability, then unbuckled the saddlebag and heaved it free. “His mother died when he was born—may she walk in heaven’s glory—so he is my only family.”
“He must be very precious to you.”
“He is now a lieutenant in Sethon’s army.”
I looked down at the soldier, my spine prickling. “Is he stationed in this area?”
Yuso dug the Ji into the mud.
“I don’t know where he is,” he said. He slung the saddlebag over his shoulder. “That is what this war will be: father against son, brother against brother.” He scanned the stark landscape, then pointed east and beckoned me onward. “It is our duty to restore peace as soon as possible at whatever cost—otherwise there will be no land to rule.” He glanced back, his lean face grim. “You will come to know that, my lady, and I am sorry for it.”
We were climbing the other side of the gully when the ridge came down.
It dropped in a crashing roar, the terrible sound bouncing off the rock faces around us in a rolling echo. We both stopped and watched the deadly churn of mud and debris slide across the valley below us. It smothered everything in its path and sent the stink of wet earth and decay into the air.
I felt Yuso’s hand grip my shoulder in sympathy. “We can’t go back and look,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “It will be too dangerous—and whatever came down with that is already dead.”
“We survived,” I said mutinously.
“Let’s keep doing so,” he said, his grip shifting from compassion to command.
Just before nightfal, Yuso grabbed my shoulder again.
“Stop!” he whispered, the word barely audible under the screeching night calls of roosting birds.
My last reserves of energy coiled into tense readiness. I scanned the spindly trees and tall bushes around us—all threatening in the half-light—and hooked my hand more securely around the saddlebag. It was not much of a weapon, but it could catch the end of a soldier’s Ji.
As if formed from dusk shadows, the shapes of six men stepped from the dark undergrowth. Silently, they circled us, a mix of swords and axes raised. Yuso’s hand slid down the Ji, ready to thrust.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
A thin man with straggly, unbound hair shook his head. “Six against two.” His voice had a soft mountain accent. “I think the question is: Who are you?”
“Captain Yuso, of the imperial guard.”
His name sent a ripple of excitement around the circle of men. I felt their attention shift to me. I gripped the saddlebag even tighter.
“Are you Lady Eona?” the thin man asked.
“Yes.”
“Thank the gods you are alive.” His teeth showed in a quick, relieved smile. The weapons around us lowered. “We are from the Chikara Mountain Resistance. I am Caido. It is an honor to be the ones to find you, Lady Dragoneye.”
He bowed, the other five following his lead in