It wasn't until Isao leaned back, content with the best haphazard job he could manage on Khalem's wounds, that he realized the full extent of his fatigue.
His head swam again. He wanted to sink into the ground and sleep forever. The ring and clash of swords still reverberated in his ears, but even that couldn't banish the soul-deep weariness in his mind.
Celty caught Isao before he could fall.
"Whoa, Prince," she murmured. "Let's take care of your arm now."
With gentle motions, she cleaned and bandaged his wounded arm, wrapping it with pieces torn from her own clothes that she first soaked in the stream. When she finished, they stared at each other with grim expressions.
"We need to get you and Khalem to Havin," she said.
“We?” Isao asked, blinking. “But . . . what about your trip?”
She pulled in a long, slow breath. “I can’t leave you now. Especially not now,” she said, gesturing to Khalem and then Isao’s injured shoulder. “I’m the only one who can really fight, and there is still a long way to go. My own adventure can wait. Once you are safe within Havin’s walls, then I’ll go out and explore more.”
“Thank you again, tiger girl,” Isao murmured.
She nodded once, turning away, clearly embarrassed by his attention. They glanced at Khalem, who dozed in the dappled sunlight.
Ranbelt met their gaze from only a few paces away. He dropped his voice to a low whisper.
"Khalem can move, but only very slowly. Celty aside," he said with a wry grin her direction, "none of us are in any shape to be fighting, and she can't fight for all three of us. If we meet anyone else on the path, we're in trouble."
Isao nodded once, taking the warning in with a grim feeling deep in his belly.
With Khalem badly wounded, that left Isao in full charge. All the leadership his father had taught him – the need for decisiveness in action; choosing the best for the good of all, not the one – came rushing to the front of his mind.
Isao forced himself to step back and study the situation until he felt certain about the best option.
"We must go," he said. "Even if we're slow. Even if we have to take turns carrying Khalem. There may be more coming after us to ensure we're dead. There may be more waiting right now. The Empire needs me to live and restore order. I refuse to die, and I refuse to allow Khalem to die for me. We go to Havin; that’s the only safe place for us right now. We go there, even if we have to crawl."
A smile appeared on Ranbelt's face. Celty grinned too, reaching out to take Isao's hand with a warm, friendly clasp, the likes of which he'd never had – had never been allowed to have –before.
Ren's hand would never have felt so warm and full of life.
Ranbelt inclined his head. "Spoken like a true leader, Sheng Isao. Let us press on and save the fate of the Empire."
"And hope that no one else falls upon us," Celty muttered, wielding her club back into her hands with a menacing smile.
Rakesh
The stunning emerald and marble city of Nagon was laid out before Rakesh in the glistening valley below.
From his perch on the high bailey of the extravagant Nari Clan palace, he viewed the white marble structures lining the clean cobblestone streets. The Hundred Blossom Path surrounded the city, ringing it with bursts of color from rare, exotic flowers found nowhere else.
Everything built in the Anpu nation shimmered, and held an air of easy elegance. But what held Rakesh’s gaze the longest was the gardens for which the Nari clan was known.
The elegant gardens of Nari offered elegantly shaped bonsai trees, carefully tended flower patches, and clear, trickling streams. All this resulted from decades of manual labor, and the utter devotion of the Nari people.
Under Rakesh’s feet, the palace’s rare azure crystals glittered in the sunshine. Although he stood too close to the crystals to be able to glimpse it for himself, he knew the pattern of the crystals created the intelligent face of a nine-tailed fox, his bushy tails splayed out behind the attractive face.
The sound of a grunt diverted Rakesh from these thoughts. Giving into his instinct, he ducked. A leg whizzed through the air above his head. He reached out, slamming the heel of his hand into the back of a knee. The soldier fell, but used his momentum to shove the butt of his sword into Rakesh's shoulder. He grunted at the sudden pain, but dodged the sharp blade and straightened up to stomp his foot on the soldier's wrist. The sword clattered to the ground.
Rakesh loomed over the soldier. "Close, but not close enough. Good work getting one hit in, though. At least you can boast that against me, unlike the others."
The other soldiers who formed the fighting circle laughed. Rakesh grinned, then held out a hand. The fallen soldier – a young recruit who showed promising talent for hand-to-hand skills – accepted it with a wry smile. Rakesh pulled him to his feet and clapped him once on the back.
"Next time."
The soldier stepped off to the side, where the others congregated in a loose grouping. A bead of sweat trickled down Rakesh's back. The warm sun had turned hot, although he didn't mind the friendly burn on his shoulders.
"Lunch!" called out a voice. "More afterward."
One by one, the soldiers sauntered toward the edge of the roof. They disappeared down the stone steps, each one etched with gems. Rakesh lingered behind, as he always did, to clear up the area.
Silence followed in the wake of their departure. He paused, soaking it in, then gathered his wrap, wiped his face off – and froze.
A familiar face appeared from the far stairs, peeking just above the roof with a playful, mischievous grin. Rakesh sucked in a breath when its owner crossed the rooftop with small, graceful steps, her silk dress billowing behind her in the gentle breeze. The lass moved quietly, quickly skirting out of sight of all those who might see her– except for Rakesh.
She stopped within arm’s reach of Rakesh, a smile dancing on her lips. When she reached up to touch his cheek, the touch of her fingertips burned his skin.
"Rak," she murmured, smiling.
He lifted a hand, grazing her cheek with his knuckle. He clasped her hand in his own and pressed his cheek into it. "It has been too long."
She grinned. "It has only been two days!"
"Two days too long."
"You act as if you were weak."
"For you, I am."
A scuffing sound caught their ears. They both froze.
Rakesh’s eyes darted around as he grabbed her wrist. "Come," he said. "Over here. Let us have a moment of privacy. At least one. It will get me through to the next one."
He tugged her to the other side of the roof, hiding them behind the base of an elegant spire that rose into the sky. Behind it sprawled a lush garden bedecked with emerald plants and vibrant flowers with petals as broad as a hand. She laughed when he hurried her through the paths and past a tinkling waterfall.
"Rakesh!" she cried quietly, stepping over a short, burbling section of stream. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere quiet."
"But it's quiet up here!"
He winked at her over his shoulder. "And not nearly private enough."
They slid behind a drape of ivy studded with white blooms. She paused, taking it in. "This is beautiful. How have I not seen it before?"
"It's a secret. The gardeners prepare it for the greatest of lovers."
She lifted one eyebrow. "You're teasing me."
"When it comes to true love? Never."
Rakesh pulled her into his arms, savoring the feel of her soft, lean body against his. She tilted her head back, smiling at him through the delicate white blooms that drifted from the peach tree above. He brushed a petal off her cheek, wondering how he ever smiled without her in his arms. "I've missed you."
"And I have missed you," she whispered, relaxing within his arms. He relished the feeling of holding her up, and holding her close.
"I've been busy," he said. "There have been more drills than ever before. Sometimes I don't even get a chance to eat lunch.
"You are always busy!"
"So are you!"
She laughed. "It's true. But never too busy to steal away and see you."