It hurts to die, but even worse to loose.
Eastern Sage
She sat on the window ledge watching the rising sun. There was a soft knock on the door and she turned her head at the sound. But before she could answer, the person entered. Essa-kest' Mu had a cloak draped over her night robe. Her long white hair, braided in a flamboyant western style, was gathered into a mesh net, though Royan' Mu could still see the intricate, upward loops encircling her head like a crown. It was a symbol of Essa-kest' Mu paying homage to her roots.
"Royan'," she said. Royan' Mu nodded slightly, but did not turn from the window. Essa-kest' Mu crossed the room and came to rest her hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"You have become frail since you have shut yourself in here," she muttered softly, taking off her cloak and putting it on Royan' Mu, "you should go out and let the sun shine on you. Life does not end until one says it has."
Royan' continued to stare at the east, her voice hoarse when she finally spoke.
"But hasn't it ended?"
Essa-kest' Mu's fingers tightened slightly on her shoulders. "You are young," she replied gently, "with a glorious future ahead of you. I will stand with you. The House of Mu will protect you."
"My future was with Dor' Yan," Royan' Mu said, pulling off the cloak and casting it to the floor, "But they killed it."
Essa-kest' Mu sighed deeply.
"Why did my lord father stop his quest to find who killed him?" Royan' Mu continued, her low voice cracking, "Why did he stop? What did he find and why didn't he share it?"
"The House of Yan had many enemies for centuries," Essa-kest' Mu replied softly, "It was revenge. And fate."
"What are you saying, mother?" Royan' Mu turned around, her sunken eyes glinting with a strange light. "Revenge? Fate? So that's why my lord father stopped investigating? Because he didn't want to provoke them?"
Her eyes flared with rising fury, "Since when has our House of Mu been afraid of anyone? Is our House not as old as the Yans? Answer me, mother, or I will believe there is more to this."
Essa-kest' Mu closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them again.
"My child, it is time to heal."
But Royan' Mu laughed, her shoulders heaving. A tear rolled down her left eye.
"No," she muttered, almost to herself, "I do not care anymore. I will find them. Myself, if I must." She wiped the tear away with a fierce swipe, her voice hardening. "Dor' Yan cannot die in vain. He did nothing. Even if the House of Yan had enemies when they were in their prime, all those grudges should have been buried with the sands of time," she looked up, her eyes blazing.
"Dor' Yan did nothing. He was born when the Yans fell into decline. He was the last—," here her voice caught, and she heaved, "—the last, mother. The last hope. The last flame. The last heir." She started to sob, "And they still came for him. Murdered him. In cold blood, mother. On his wedding day," she reached up and wiped her tears, "Why, mother? Why couldn't they let him be?"
Essa-kest' Mu pulled her daughter into her arms. Royan' Mu did not struggle though her body shook with silent sobs.
"My father has a saying," Essa-kest' Mu murmured as she ran her fingers through Royan' Mu's tangled reddish-brown hair, "and he is hated for it. 'Leave one descendant of your enemy alive, and they will come back to kill you'. The Yans didn't get rid of all their enemies. They fell into decline and their enemies didn't want to leave the last one of them alive either. It truly is a pity that this is the end of that noble house."
"No," came Royan' Mu's voice, muffled in her mother's nightgown. Essa-kest' Mu paused, and then pulled back Royan' Mu's shoulders to stare into her daughter's face.
"It is a lie," she said, aghast. "Let it be a lie, Royan'! Are you with child?"
Royan' Mu raised her eyebrows, then sighed in sadness as she lifted her mother's arms off her shoulders.
"I wish. At least I could have a little reminder of Dor' Yan. No, I am not with child. But the House of Yan will not die."
Essa-kest' Mu sighed with relief. She shook her head. "It is already dead, my child."
Royan' Mu narrowed her eyes. "Not while I am still alive."
Essa-kest' Mu frowned. She grabbed hold of her daughter's hand and squeezed it tightly.
"You will not do it." She said firmly, staring hard into her daughter's eyes, "I forbid it, Royan'! I forbid it for you! You will not be a widow of a dead house. You shall grieve, and you shall heal, and in time you will find an honorable young lord to your liking, and you will wed him. I will not mind, neither will your father, if he becomes a son-in-law of our House. We shall rejoice if he is of a noble House. He can be a warrior, or a scribe, or a mason, or a boatswain; I do not care. But you shall not bind yourself to a dead House. You will not do it!"
"I already have," Royan' Mu replied coldly, turning away. She rose from the ledge and walked to her bed, where a leather bag, a sword, and a heap of clothes was piled. Essa-kest' Mu stared after her with unconcealed shock.
"Royan' Mu!" Essa-kest' Mu called.
"Royan-mu' Yan," Royan' Mu corrected, "Daughter of the House of Mu, and lady of the house of Yan."
She started to sort through the clothes. Most of them were tunic shirts, cloaks with silver clasps, and long slit skirts. These she stuffed into the bag. The dresses, the narkkirs and the wudans, party wears, ball gowns, formal robes, colorful skirts, fancy shirts; these she threw over her shoulder. Essa-kest' Mu watched her.
"What are you doing, Royan'? Where are you going?" She paused, "The House of Yan? Are you going to start living alone in that manor?"
"No. Not now, at least," Royan' Mu replied, "I must get revenge first, or Dor' Yan will continue to haunt my dreams."
Essa-kest' Mu took a shuddering breath but quickly calmed herself.
"Listen to reason, child," she pleaded in an even voice, "listen to your mother, who loves you most in this world."
"Yes, thanks to those who killed my love," Royan' Mu replied cynically. Essa-kest' Mu paused in her words. She stared at her daughter in confusion. Royan' Mu had changed. She was sad, yes, but now she was angry.
"Royan'—"
"What will you say, mother?" Royan' Mu paused in her task and turned around, her jaw set, her eyes flaming with fury, "that I am a fool? That I am looking for death? That I can never find them, even when my lord father could not? I know. But I do not care," she slowly turned around again and continued.
Essa-kest' Mu did not say anything for a while. By the time she spoke again, Royan' Mu had finished packing and had hitched the sword to her waist.
"So you are not coming with us to the palace? I gave you four months to grieve, Royan'. And I wished you would heal and realize that there is more to be gotten out of life. I was prepared to hold your hand and guide you through her majesty's banquet, where hopefully you would smell fresh flowers, have the sun warm your broken heart, dance with your lord father and brother and perhaps a young lord or two. Laugh, eat, and be merry, even though you were still hurting inside. And allow yourself to love again—" Here she was cut short by a mirthless laugh from Royan' Mu.
"Stop, mother. Please stop it. It infuriates me to hear you say that you gave me four months, as if my grief and sadness was a pool of rotting water in a bath that could be drained away. It is not." She gritted her teeth, "I will not take another man. I am the widow of House Yan, if you would call my position that. Now leave me be. I will not rest till I have found Dor' Yan's killers, and given them a taste of my fury."
Essa-kest' Mu's face twisted in anguish. "Your father will not like this," she murmured as a final resort.
"I do not care what my lord father thinks," Royan' Mu snapped. "I am not asking his opinion."
She reached for her bag, pulling it onto her shoulder. "Goodbye, mother."
"No, Royan', you cannot leave now," Essa-kest' Mu reached out, striding forward and catching her daughter by the arm. But Royan' Mu pulled free and took a few steps back. Flicking her hand a brown scroll appeared in her palm after a faint light shone briefly from a ring on her forefinger.
"Royan'—," Essa-kest' Mu called in distress when she caught sight of the scroll. Royan' Mu paused, holding her mother's gaze with a look that cut deeper than any words could. Her face, once rosy, was now drawn and hollow, with dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were pale, cracked—her hair a tangled mess that mirrored the storm inside her. She looked like a woman already walking into a war.
"Be careful," Essa-kest' Mu breathed, and the tense look on Royan' Mu's face softened a bit. She pressed her lips together and nodded once.
Royan' Mu tore the scroll in half. A flash of light burst from the torn edges, swirling around her in a brilliant, crackling arc. Before her mother could react, a matrix formation shimmered beneath her feet, glowing with arcane power. And in the next instant, Royan' was gone.
***
Tez' Mu managed to disarm Raq' Mu with a quick matrix while jumping back to evade an attack. Raq' Mu's sword spun from his grasp, rotating in midair with a flash of silver, only to vanish and reappear in his hand almost instantaneously.
Tez' Mu's gut clenched. He wanted to shout that's not fair! You said you wouldn't use your aura! But before the thought could form, Raq' Mu was already bringing the blade down, fast as lightning.
A shield matrix bloomed in Tez' Mu's hand just in time, stopping the strike with a sharp clang that sent a gust of hot air rushing toward him.
Raq' Mu didn't flinch. He sidestepped the matrix, thrusting his sword toward Tez' Mu's exposed left side. Tez' Mu's instincts flared, and in one smooth motion, he canceled the matrix, using his sword to block the thrust. Gathering a burst of aura into his arm, he shoved Raq' Mu back, creating just enough space to strike. He moved quickly, his blade arcing toward Raq' Mu's chest.
Raq' Mu countered, knocking Tez' Mu's sword aside with a swift strike of his own. Tez' Mu planted his foot and stomped the ground, channeling aura into his legs. He shot upward, his body springing into the air with a brief but powerful leap, and swung his sword at Raq' Mu's head.
Raq' Mu bent low, dropping to one knee and setting his sword horizontally with his left arm propping it up. The force of the blow hit him full on, and Tez' Mu felt the shock reverberate through his own arms. He'd poured extra essence into the strike, but it still wasn't enough.
Clang! His sword snapped in two, the sound cutting through silent morning. Tez' Mu flew back instinctively, just as Raq' Mu rose with terrifying speed, swinging his sword in pursuit. Tez' Mu summoned a shield matrix, his heart pounding, and held it with both hands, bracing himself, even while Raq' Mu hacked relentlessly at it.
"Summon an aura blade!" Raq' Mu shouted. His eyes widening even as he continued to hold the shield against Raq' Mu's strikes, Tez' Mu did not bother to retort that he couldn't. He was already used to his father making him do things above his rank's capabilities. In Raq' Mu's eyes, Tez' Mu was a Martial Master, or even a Grandmaster. He was constantly pushing his limits.
Raq' Mu continued to attack the shield, with fast sword strikes, not allowing any opening for Tez' Mu to pause, even for a second, and absorb aura. Tez' Mu thought quickly, even as his arms started to feel the strain of holding up the matrix. His oasis also started to itch. Even though the matrix he was holding was within his range as a Martial Skill, the wounds on his oasis did not allow him to use essence for long without it starting to hurt.
He couldn't keep this up much longer.
Then, an idea flickered in his mind.
Push it. Push everything into the matrix.
Tez' Mu gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and sent a powerful wave of aura flooding into the matrix shield. He exploded it with everything he had, and Raq' Mu staggered back, taking two steps to regain his balance.
That was the opening he needed.
Absorb!
Tez' Mu didn't wait another second. He rushed backward, pulling essence from every available source. He felt the power surge through him like wildfire, his arm trembling under the influx.
Channel!
He had no weapon to channel the aura into—he didn't know how to form an aura blade. But Raq' Mu was already charging, sword in hand, eyes locked on him. The moment Tez' Mu was within range, Raq' Mu thrust his sword at him.
Damn! Tez' Mu ran, Raq' Mu hot on his heels. Aura blade, aura blade! He could feel the absorbed essence pulsating in his fist but had no idea what to do with it. Swoosh! Raq' Mu's sword slashed dangerously close to his ear.
Tez' Mu threw himself on the ground, rolled out of Raq' Mu's reach, and scrambled to his feet.
Condense! He thought desperately, as he continued to evade Raq' Mu's attacks, pushing the aura out of his fist. It worked! But it became a whip, not a sword. Good for now! Tez' Mu flung it out, whipping the tendril of aura around Raq' Mu's sword. With a sharp tug, he disarmed his father, the sword flying from his grip. He knew he had only two seconds, even as he saw the sword already spinning in the air, about to return to its owner's hand.
Tez' Mu took five quick steps back and looked down at the aura whip now in his grasp. He felt its power pulsing beneath his fingers.
He squeezed, willing the aura to solidify, and poured more essence into it, his breath sharp as he concentrated. Raq' Mu advanced on him, his hand outstretched at his side ready to grip the sword once it reappeared. Grip! Tez' Mu thought. That was it! Solidify! He thought, as he willed the aura whip to harden, quickly absorbing and channeling more essence into it.
Raq' Mu swung his sword at him. It was too late to raise a matrix shield. Tez' Mu raised the aura whip in a horizontal slash, gritting his teeth as he shut his eyes, waiting for the sting when Raq' Mu's sword would cut through the aura whip and slice his arm.
But the sting never came. There was a loud deng sound, and a blast of energy in both directions, like the force of a matrix shield being struck. Tez' Mu opened his eyes in surprise.
It worked! I created an aura blade!
Raq' Mu stepped back, his expression unreadable. He threw his sword in the air, and it spun in a circle and vanished. Tez' Mu lowered his arm and stared in shock at the aura blade in his arm. It was just a longish looking red light, but he could feel in his pulsing hand the havoc it could wreck.
"Well done." Raq' Mu said, retrieving a small towel from his spatial ring and tossing it outward. Tez' Mu dissipated the aura blade, and caught the towel. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the sting of salt in his eyes and the tremor in his muscles. He looked up, unsurprised that Raq' Mu was not sweating.
His father might not have used his battle aura throughout the duel, but his stamina would still be that of a Martial Sage. He could continue fighting like that for twelve days without his aura, without stopping, and not get tired. Even now, Raq' Mu stood unmoved, the only sign of their fight the faint hum of energy still crackling in the air.
"You have progressed, these few months," Raq' Mu said. Tez' Mu nodded. He could feel it in his stronger arms, even though they were now aching; in the calluses that had thickened along his palms, once soft and untouched, now roughened by the weight of his sword. His reaction time had sharpened, his body moving almost before his mind commanded it. He had learned to absorb essence more swiftly, to summon an aura blade without hesitation. Even though Raq' Mu never explicitly taught him, merely battling him, Tez' Mu had learned through bruises, exhaustion, and sheer willpower. He'd been able to exploit a few seconds opening during a duel and hold his own against a man several times stronger than him. And that wasn't all.
Raq' Mu had said it didn't take cultivation to lead an army after all. On some days, he left his study to Tez' Mu, forcing him to pore over old, yellowed maps inked with fading lines, strategy notes riddled with red markings, and brittle records of battles both won and lost, accounts of weapon allocations and shortages, each number a testimony to the wars' toll.
Among these cold, calculated pages sat a lone book of folktales from the Age of Conquests, its leather cover cracked with time. Tez' Mu had scoffed at it at first, but before long he found himself drawn to its pages, his fingers running over the inked words until they became familiar. When he hesitantly asked to take it from the study, Raq' Mu had merely nodded. Now, the old tome, with its dog-eared pages and nearly loose binding, had found its place on the headrest of Tez' Mu's bed.
"Today is her majesty's birthday," Raq' Mu said, as he turned and strode toward the drill arena's exit. Tez' Mu followed, flexing his aching fingers. "There shall be a display from the offspring of the gentry for her entertainment. Will you join them?"
The Tez' Mu of four months ago would have stammered no.
"What will we do?" He asked instead, the evenness of his own voice surprising him.
"I do not know." Raq' Mu responded, shrugging. "You shall decide among yourselves. A mock war, perhaps," he pushed open the heavy doors to the main hall. "I'm sure you all have been dying for a chance to pit your strengths against one another."
"I do not want our House disgraced," Raq' Mu continued, when they entered the study, "That's why I took it upon myself to train you."
Tez' Mu nodded. His father had crossed to the other side of the study, where a rack was mounted. It was usually empty, but today it had a sword. He lifted it, unsheathing it with a practiced motion. The blade was long, northern steel by the looks of it, forged in the dead of winter. The hilt, a dark bronze, bore sigils and runes etched in careful detail, prominent among them a small roaring tiger.
Raq' Mu walked over to Tez' Mu and held it out to him.
"Here, it's yours."
Tez' Mu collected the sword, stunned. If he was to receive a weapon from his father at all, and one with the Mu sigil no less, it should have been at his coming-of-age ceremony. He opened his mouth to say this but Raq' Mu raised a hand.
"I'm giving it to you in advance. I want you to wear it today, and bring honor to the House of Mu."
"Yes, Father," Tez' Mu sheathed the blade and held it at his waist.
"Are you not going to name it?" Raq' Mu smirked. "All the heroes of the Age of Conquest had weapons with names after all."
Tez' Mu chuckled, then put a hand to his chin, deliberating. His fingers brushed against the stubble that had grown in the past months.
"Moonfire," he decided. "Of Guari' An, who carved out the mainland with his sword."
Raq' Mu nodded. "Not bad. He's our ancestor, you know," he added.
"But he was of the Huiyan tribe, who drank of the ocean even though it burned their throat," Tez' Mu raised his eyebrows. He could not imagine descending from someone like that, "The savages also piled the skulls of their enemies and built a wall with it."
"Narhos Raen," Raq' Mu smirked, "The Wall of Skulls. A fable."
"But the Skull Valley exists," Tez' Mu argued.
"It does," Raq' Mu nodded, returning to his table, "But that doesn't mean everything in the fable is true. You should be able to sift the truth from exaggerations when reading the accounts of long gone events. One thing is certain," he said, sitting down. "Guari' An existed. And he is our ancestor. The Huiyan tribe moved south of the Narhos Valley and discovered a fertile plain. They settled and lived there, until the Yarlans crossed over the Gurwen Sea and fought them. The Yarlans got the land, but not all the Huiyans died." Raq' Mu paused.
"They fled east and entered the moorlands, banding with the Ai tribe on the way. The Ai tribe reared cattle, and soon changed the Huiyans tastes from wild meat to beef. Erre' An, the great-granddaughter of Guari' An, married the chief of the Ais. They bore Kail, but his parents quarreled over whose name he would take. When Kail came of age and slaughtered the Night Boar, he took the name Hmu, becoming Kail' Hmu."
At this Tez' Mu's eyes widened. Raq' Mu smiled. "It seems you know the story from there," he said.
"Yes," Tez' Mu nodded. "Kail' Hmu joined the Ais and the Ans under one banner and ventured even further east, until they came to Arigu Zja, the Place of the Withered Tree."
Raq' Mu continued from where he left off. "Kail' then built a house in the valley, and settled there. His grandson removed the 'h' rune from the tribe name and he was known as—?" he paused, expecting the answer.
"Fein' Mu," Tez' Mu supplied, "because he tamed a tiger."
Raq' Mu nodded. He seemed to be satisfied with Tez' Mu's knowledge of the house's history. "And then?" he asked.
"And then they never left Arigu Valley. The Age of Conquest ended with Fein', after spanning six generations."
"And what Age are we in now, according to the scribes?" Raq' Mu asked.
"The Age of Dominance, where Ochelon rules the mainland under the Banner of the Han," Tez' Mu answered.
Raq' Mu chuckled. "So they like to say," he said, leaning back in his seat and locking his fingers, "But how those fat scribes know that Ochelon rules the mainland when they never step out of the towers of the Academy they're holed up in is beyond me."
"They might not leave the towers," Tez' Mu said. "But they hear news, for example, of the exploits of the great-generals."
Raq' Mu smirked. "Yes, I am sure I will hear many a ballad about me during the Dowager's revel," he rose. "I have tarried you long enough. Go and prepare."
"Yes, Father." Tez' Mu bowed and left the study.
***
Raq' Mu stood in the main hall, resplendent in his deep gold tudan, the upper shoulders of the robe covered with steel plates. He stood talking to Heng, the butler, while the courtyard hummed with activity; horses neighed and stamped the ground, their reins clinking as grooms secured them. The crisp morning wind swept in through the open doors, rustling the crimson banners along the hall's pillars.
The scent of perfumed jasmine preceded Essa-kest' Mu as she emerged from the west door, the train of her midnight-blue narkkir rippling behind her, embroidered with tiny dragons and chrysanthemums. Gold and silver ornaments adorned her hair in delicate layers, tiny bells woven among them, chiming softly with each step.
Raq' Mu extended his hand, and she placed hers in his, her fingers cool against his calloused palm.
Heng bowed low. "My lady."
"Where are Tez' and Chan'?" Essa-kest' Mu asked.
Heng opened his mouth to reply, but Raq' Mu cut in first. "Where is Royan'?"
"She's not coming with us," Essa-kest' Mu replied softly, turning her face towards the great double doors leading outside.
"I thought you said you would convince her," Raq' Mu's tone was edged with displeasure.
Essa-kest' Mu shook her head, the bells in her hair swaying with a delicate chime. "She will not agree. She has taken a drastic decision. My lord—" she hesitated, her gaze flickering to Heng before she lowered her voice. "I will speak to you about it later."
"When will later be?" Raq' Mu frowned, waving Heng away. "Go, fetch Tez' and Chan'," he ordered, before turning back to his wife. "We shall be at the palace all day, and only the ancestors know how long Her Majesty will have us revel for."
"A month?" Essa-kest' Mu's lips curved up in a smile.
Raq' Mu, however, was not amused. "A few days, as I am seeing it. Will your father come?"
"He will send Saroin'. Nothing will make Offal' Kest leave Darin at this time."
"Why?" Raq' Mu frowned. Essa-kest' Mu looked at him as if surprised by his ignorance.
"He is old."
Raq' Mu snorted. "He is a Martial Sage. I daresay he can ride from Darin down to here in three days and not be worse for the wear."
Essa-kest' Mu smiled but did not refute him.
"Her majesty will not accept Saroin' Kest's person in his place. All the great-generals must renew their fealty each year,—" Raq' Mu paused, his frown deepening.
"That's not my problem," Essa-kest' Mu said coolly.
"—except he doesn't want to renew his," Raq' Mu muttered.
Essa-kest' Mu's gaze sharpened like a drawn blade. "What are you saying, my lord?!" Her voice came out strained, the gold filigree in her ornaments trembling with her sudden movement. "Please refrain at once. My father may like shunning his duties, but I will not have you call him treasonous."
"We shall see," Raq' Mu replied dangerously. "Now where are those children?"
Thankfully for them Tez' Mu and Chan' Mu entered just as he finished speaking. Tez' Mu was wearing a white kasa, with a cloth sash over one shoulder, the sigil of the House of Mu emblazoned on the vest coat's chest pocket—a black tiger, mouth open in a roar. At his waist, his sword Moonfire rested in its lacquered scabbard, the hilt wrapped in white silk. Chan' Mu was wearing a flowing narkkir like her mother, but hers was cinched at the waist with a weapon belt, a small dagger secured at her side.
"Chan'," Raq' Mu said as they paid their respects, his voice firm. "You can't bring a weapon into the palace."
Chan' Mu arched an eyebrow. "But Tez' can?"
"Tez' Mu is carrying a sword on my orders." Raq' Mu said curtly. "We are going to the palace to celebrate the Dowager's birthday, not to engage in petty squabbles," his gaze hardened.
"Fine then," Chan' Mu unbuckled the weapon belt and flicked her hand. The dagger vanished into her spatial ring with a glimmer of silver light. "All good now?"
Raq' Mu pursed his lips but he could hardly disguise the pride in his eyes. He reached out and knocked Chan' Mu lightly on the head.
"Don't be impertinent."
"It's fine if they don't see it. Only the ancestors know how many weapons you are carrying, Father," Chan' Mu rolled her eyes.
Raq' Mu smirked, turning on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he strode forward. His family followed.
"We are already nearly late."
Outside, the banners of the House of Mu fluttered lazily in the mild breeze, their crimson dye stark against the golden horizon. Horses whinnied, stamping their hooves impatiently on the packed dirt, while the murmurs of servants and retainers melded into a soft hum in the background.
"Shall I ride, Father?" Tez' Mu asked, standing next to Raq' Mu's towering steed, its dappled coat gleaming under the sunlight. Raq' Mu shrugged in response.
Sari stepped forward, leading a sleek bay mare bedecked in black and gold tack. Tez' Mu took the reins, gazing at the horse fondly. This was a true Mu stallion; his ancestors had once ridden into war on beasts like these, their blades gleaming like lightning under the sun. Swallowing a rush of pride, he mounted, the leather of the saddle creaking beneath him as he adjusted his seat. As he gripped the reins, the soft scent of oiled leather mixed with the crispness of the morning air.
An aggravated sigh came from behind him, and Tez' Mu to see Chan' Mu's face twisted into a scowl, eyes burning with petulance. When she caught his gaze, she stuck out her tongue and spat toward the ground before climbing into the carriage with their mother. Tez' Mu laughed. He couldn't resist lagging back until he was riding beside the carriage. The lacquered wood gleamed under the morning sun, adorned with the crest of the House of Mu. The scent of Essa-kest' Mu's jasmine perfume wafted from the carriage, mixed with the more subtle musk of incense burned to ward off ill omens.
Inside, Chan' Mu's arms were crossed over her flat chest, her lips forming a pout. Essa-kest' Mu was asking if she remembered all her etiquette lessons.
"Hey, Chan'," Tez' Mu called.
His sister's her expression darkened. "Go away! Mother, tell him to leave." she grumbled.
Tez' Mu chuckled. "You're not too happy being stuck in there, are you? Well, too bad for you."
"Ride with your father, Tez'," Essa-kest' Mu snapped, turning back to her daughter. "Go on, tell me how we greet her majesty."
Chan' Mu sighed dramatically before reciting, "Bringing greetings from the House of Mu, may Your Majesty witness three thousand harvests."
The rote delivery made Tez' Mu smirk, but he nudged his horse forward, the clatter of hooves against the cobbled road creating a steady heartbeat to their journey.
When he caught up to his father, he realized Kai' Ai had taken his place. The general glanced over when Tez' Mu rode up to him and sneered. Tez' Mu frowned back.
"Fall back, General Ai," came Raq' Mu's voice. Kai' Ai looked astounded, and his jaw fell open slightly. With visible reluctance, he slowed his pace, and Tez' Mu quickly eased his horse into the opening he left, taking his place back at his father's side.
"You shall present our gift," Raq' Mu said, turning his head slightly. "So be prepared."
"Yes, Father," Tez' Mu felt more confident than he ever had in his life. The banquet, once a formal obligation he would have groaned at, now held the promise of a stage upon which he would prove himself.
Raq' Mu put on speed, and galloped swiftly out of the grounds of the Mu Manor. The carriage drivers cracked their whips, urging the entourage to match pace, and the three generals who accompanied Raq' Mu—Kai' Ai, Yu' Jun, and Arda' Zi—rode in formation just behind their lord, their armor clinking with each movement.
In spite of Tez' Mu's riding skills, which was one thing he prided himself in, he found himself slowly lagging behind.
Sari rode up to him, expertly steering the carriage he was driving, which contained Heng and the maids that would serve Essa-kest' Mu and Chan' Mu. He did not say anything, only giving his master a significant look.
Tez' Mu sighed. Sari was still sulking. He'd been that way ever since Tez' Mu had refused to share what went on in Raq' Mu's lessons with him. They were now painfully formal with each other, but Tez' Mu still held on to the idea that Sari should and would break the ice first.
Heng drew back the curtains of the carriage and poked his head out. "Pardon me, young master, but could you please bring word to my lady asking if we'll stay at the Nuwun Lodge if the revel goes on?" he said.
Tez' Mu pursed his lips but nodded. He spurred his horse forward and soon caught up with the ladies' carriage. Raq' Mu and his generals were further ahead. The curtain was down.
"Mother," Tez' Mu called. Chan' Mu raised the curtain and stuck out her tongue at him.
"Refrain, Chan'," Essa-kest' Mu chided, "Yes, child?" She answered Tez' Mu. He flinched a little at the title but didn't retort.
"Heng wants to know if we'll be staying at some Nuwan Lodge if the revel continues into the night."
"Nuwun," Chan' Mu corrected with a sneer, "The Brown House."
Essa-kest' Mu shrugged. "Perhaps. But we may have the honor of residing in the palace guests' wing," she said. Tez' Mu nodded and pulled the reins of his horse till Sari caught up, then passed on his mother's reply. After that he spurred his horse forward, only seeing in the distance the flag of the House of Mu borne by Arda' Zi on a pole.
When he managed to catch up to them Raq' Mu was conversing with Yu' Jun about Teazin Dal-mu, the fief of the House of Mu over in the east.
"I think we should send this man—Muri' Ji, to oversee things in your stead, my lord," Yu' Jun was saying. "He's a shrewd one in business, and you trust him. The fief is expending more than it is earning. Gir' Mu is not doing a good job."
Raq' Mu did not reply.
"But Muri' Ji has a position in the Scith," the flag bearer, Arda' Zi commented, "Would he agree to leave his post and head to Teazin on my lord general's command? Does the loyalty of the Ji run that deep?"
"Overseeing Teazin is a greater honor than that measly position attached to his name at the Scith," Yu' Jun argued. "And I believe his heart is right with my lord general. After all, the Jis have been sworn to the Mus almost as long as the Ais have," he tilted his head in Kai' Ai's direction.
Kai' Ai bristled. "Brush up your lore, Yu' Jun," he retorted with a sneer, "Do not taint the noble family Ai by comparing our loyalty to that of the Jis. We Ais have existed since the Age of Conquests as a noble house, even before the House of Mu took their name—" he suddenly paused and glanced at Raq' Mu fearfully.
"We shall speak later, Yu' Jun," Raq' Mu barely moved his mouth as he spoke. "Arda' Zi, ride out in front. The two of you," he said to Yu' Jun and Kai' Ai, "fall back."
"Yes, my lord," Arda' Zi spurred his horse and rode ahead with the flag, while the others pulled hard on their reins and allowed Raq' Mu and Tez' Mu to ride five lengths ahead, enough not to overhear them.
They were now about to enter Muii, the district of the Mus in the capital. As they drew closer, Muii District unfurled before them in a sprawling collection of tiled rooftops, bustling markets, and winding streets. The scent of roasted duck and spiced honey pastries drifted from the food stalls, mingling with the more pungent aroma of dye vats from the cloth merchants. Shopkeepers and their children lined the roads, their voices rising in cheers and chants, welcoming the House of Mu's procession.
Tez' Mu smiled self-consciously at the people, pulling his horse to a canter. Beside him, Raq' Mu spoke abruptly. "What do you think, Tez'?"
Tez' Mu was caught off guard. "About?"
Raq' Mu glanced at him and frowned.
"Oh—you mean about the matter of Teazin?"
His father shot him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. Tez' Mu exhaled and started thinking.
"I don't think Muri' Ji should go."
"Why not?"
Tez' Mu recalled the whispers of extortion in the Ji District; the merchants forced into unfair tithes under the pretense of honor as well as the road fare imposed on innocent passers-by. He ground his teeth. "He may be loyal on the surface, but what he truly cares about is how much silver enters his pocket."
"Can you say that to his face?" Raq' Mu asked. Tez' Mu shrugged. He could. Muri' Ji could not do anything to him as long as Raq' Mu was alive.
"Then you will." Raq' Mu said, his tone hard, "Today, in fact. I do not stand for causeless slander, nor honeyed tongues praising the glories of a man to the skies. You shall corner Muri' Ji, and tell him why he cannot oversee Teazin. Then we shall hear his defense."
Tez' Mu sighed. Why him? After standing in and doing all of Riel' Mu's duties only for his brother to swagger back to Ochelon when he felt like it and reap the fruits of all of Tez' Mu's sorrows? He did not like the sound of that.
"But I have no say, Father." He hesitated, "I'm not the house's heir."
Raq' Mu sneered. "Why do you say so?"
Tez' Mu pouted. "It all won't matter if Brother Riel' arrives anytime and says Muri' Ji will oversee Teazin anyway."
"Since when has Riel's words been final in the House of Mu?" Raq' Mu asked.
"It will—one day," Tez' Mu muttered.
"So I take it that you are so unwilling to do all I've been telling you because you think it's a waste of time?"
Tez' Mu did not bother to reply.
"It's a pity you did not hear with your own ears what those pair said on the day they left." Raq' Mu scoffed. "Riel' and Rian' do not ever want to return to inherit the House of Mu. Get that into your skull, Tez'."
Tez' Mu was surprised but he still argued. "But what about sister Royan'?"
"Do I really have to explain that to you?"
"But now her fiancé is dead," Tez' Mu murmured.
"So? Have all the eligible men in Ochelon died along with Dor' Yan?"
Tez' Mu sighed. It seemed that there was no getting out of this.