I looked back at Arro and found my voice. “What do you think?”
“The man who abandoned his position, who abandoned you, has no right to demand a meeting on his terms, let alone in a place as far as Ziri-nar-Orxiaro. I smell a trap.”
“He insists that it is a safe place for us to meet. Anzhao City would be on neutral grounds, away from the warlords’ meddling.”
“Easy for an Ikessar to say,” Arro grumbled. Blackie came up to rub along his leg, and he pushed the dog away in disgust. He tugged his rice hat back into place. “Take my advice, my queen. Ignore it. The man disappears for the better part of five years and then thinks that you will come running to him after a mere letter? Such arrogance.”
I was silent for a moment. “The warlords…” I started. “A good number of them supported the Ikessars.”
Arro snorted. “They did. And so? They are content with whispers in the dark. None have dared challenge your position.”
“Not yet,” I said. “Whispers in the dark are still dangerous. Did we not learn that in the days of the Ikessars’ rule? They can roust the people, put ideas where they don’t belong. All it takes is one warlord to decide he’s had enough and get two more to agree with him. The rest will follow, and I will be yet another failed Dragonlord in this damned land’s history.”
“It’s like trying to take control of a pack of dogs. Just bark louder than the rest.”
“And you know a thing or two about dogs, do you, Arro?” I asked, watching him try to avoid Blackie’s pestering tongue with a measure of amusement. Finally, I took pity on him and whistled. The dog returned to me. “The other warlords do not challenge me because Rai left of his own accord. They can say whatever they want… They have no proof I put a sword to his back and bullied him out of my lands. But it doesn’t mean it will end there. Lately, they have turned to openly blaming me for his actions, and if word gets out that Rai wrote to me and I refused to answer, they will think I meant to hold on to the crown by myself. The idea of a wolf of Oren-yaro on the throne still frightens them.”
Arro looked like he wanted to argue, but one of the things I appreciated about him was that he saw sense even when he didn’t agree with it. He tucked his hands into his sleeves. “I will convene with the others,” he said. “We will have to investigate this letter before we can make a decision.”
“Of course,” I said. “But this is the first time in years that Lord Rayyel has agreed to talk to us. Regardless of our personal opinions, he remains of importance to the royal clans. Don’t do anything drastic—I will not have him frightened into silence.”
He nodded, wiping his hands on his beard yet again. It was an affectation of his, a Zarojo mannerism. Arro had grown up in the empire, brought over to serve my father a long time ago—I would’ve thought he’d have jumped at the chance to visit his home after so many years.
I went up the flagstone steps leading to the garden, Blackie running in circles around me. I was doing a remarkable job at keeping calm. Only when I reached the fountain did my knees buckle. I sat on the edge, listening to the water bubble and the frogs croak.
“I told you to declare war on the bastards five years ago,” a voice called from the gate. I looked up to see my father’s general striding past the rose bushes. He must’ve been there when they first opened the letter. Although I knew it was a precaution, it irritated me that I was always the last to know, that other people were always making decisions for me. Taking a deep breath, I got up to face him.
Unlike Arro, Lord General Ozo never tried to hide his displeasure, especially his displeasure at my ruling.
He threw a staff in my direction, giving me only a split second to catch it before he charged with bamboo sticks, one in each hand. I stepped back and met his attack. Ozo was a big man, covered in hard muscle that had yet to go to fat, despite his age. Bamboo against bamboo clattered together. I staggered back.
“War,” I repeated. “I told you before, Lord General Ozo. We don’t have the resources.”
He slapped the back of his head with his hand, his arm tattoos a deep black against his sunburnt skin. “I’m the one with the soldiers. I’m the one who can tell you we can crush the bastards if you just gave the order.”
“And I’m your queen,” I said as I tried to jam the end of my staff into his head. Just once, it would be satisfying to see his nose break.
He sidestepped, twirling the sticks in his hands. “Some queen. Your footwork alone…”
I bristled as I fixed my feet. “Is that insubordination?”
“That’s honesty,” he snarled as he charged me a second time. I spun on my heel, my staff slamming into his gut. But he only laughed it off. “This land is teetering on the brink of destruction because you can’t make up your mind about what to do with that husband of yours.” He continued to attack. “The other warlords laugh at you behind their cups. The peasants think you weak. You want to see the bastard? Order me to set fire to his holdings, and he’ll come riding back to save his clan. I’ll cut off his head, then.”
“He’s still your Dragonlord,” I gasped, barely keeping up with his assault. I didn’t know where the man still found the energy. He was old, too old to be sparring in broad daylight.
Sweat poured down his face as he finally grabbed my staff, dragging me up to him. “Uncrowned, like his uncle before him,” he said. “I won’t submit to it. He’s no king of mine. And you won’t be queen for much longer if you don’t make a decision. You forget that you’re Dragonlord, too.” He spat on the bushes, a healthy globule that trickled down the leaves. My poor gardener was going to be livid. Then he pushed me away.
“Must this end in war?” I asked, relaxing my stance. “If I can find a peaceful resolution…”
“A peaceful resolution?” he asked incredulously. “You? You’re Warlord Yeshin’s. Yeshin the Butcher’s daughter. The land will never allow you peace if you don’t crush them under an iron fist first. You want our people to listen to you instead of their warlords, their clans, their families? Put them on a tight leash. Strangle their necks if you have to.”
“Says Yeshin’s general.”
Ozo sniffed, flicking his sticks from side to side. “Or you can walk willingly into this trap for the sake of seeing your sorry sack of a husband and bring shame to the Oren-yaro. After everything your father has sacrificed, you would do this to him. And for what? The man has been nothing but trouble to Jin-Sayeng!” He lunged. The right stick smacked against my face before I could lift the staff to protect myself.
My skin prickled as I twirled the staff, jabbing him on the side. “You would say that, Lord Ozo,” I hissed as I pulled back to jab him again. “You hate his clan.”
“Hundreds of years under his clan’s rule has brought us nothing but sorrow.” He rewarded my efforts with another blow to my head. I reared back, shaking, and he gave a small grin. “You’re the one with every reason to hate them. Their incompetence killed your brothers.”
“Brothers I’ve never met,” I grumbled, wiping my jaw.