Chapter 110

Saku, Clan Hitogi Capital

Southern Arasaka

A wave of pride hit Viceroy Jin as he stumbled into his bedchamber and opened his curtains, revealing the splendor of his Prince’s home state under the sea of Thea’s star-filled night. Streets lined with verdant greens and pale lilacs graced the avenues, and between them walked the merry citizens going about their business in the busy marketplace districts or laborers’ ward. Each section of the city, like most traditional Yokun holdings, was strictly separated by profession, ensuring that no citizen mingled with his inferiors or his superiors. Hitogi prided itself on order and the swift execution of justice, and as Jin looked to the fluttering banners twisting in the winds above the town walls, he breathed in the air of the coastline with no small degree of relief.

He needed a nightcap before this day was done.

“Viceroy?” one of the slave-servants — a Tigran boy by the name of Jobashu — suddenly called from his bedroom door.

Jin turned to greet the creature with a nod.

“My Lord,” Jobashu said. “Matriarch Hakumi requires your attention.”

“Hakumi?!” Jin almost exploded, then, remembering himself, straightened up, pulling at the tight cuffs of his royal attire to feign disinterest. “I’ll answer the summons. You may return to your evening duties, Jobashu.”

The Tigran nodded fervently before retiring down the hall, skipping merrily as he went. It gave the Viceroy some small pleasure to watch him go — the lad had grown on him over the past few years of his service to the court. Indeed, even Prince Nagoya had remarked on Jobashu’s fascinating capacity to learn their ways as though he had been born to them. It was gratifying to see such a dutiful servant to the empire — a creature dredged up from the sands of barbarism and trained in the proper ways of civilization. It reminded Jin what they were fighting to achieve.

Of course, he would never share such pride with a being as base as Jobashu himself. Nature was, after all, never to be overstepped. Still, as he prepared to face the orders of the Matriarch of Blades herself, the image of the young slave provided him some courage.

He quickly strode down the mosaic-filled hallways of the palace pagoda, offering proper greetings to the council members who administered the city’s economic and military matters in the wake of their Prince’s departure. He could see the concern etched on their faces — they had dreamed the dream too. Only yesterday, Councilman Letian had dared to bring up the horrid image of their wounded Prince, which had been burned into the mind of every slave, for sure. However, Jin had dismissed the power of this little vision. It simply didn’t make any logical sense that Prince Nagoya could be captured by rabble such as them — and clearly wasn’t inspiring even the slightest whiff of an uprising within these walls. Proud, God-fearing slaves were a staple of Hitogi lands. Those of Clan Naga’s holdings simply weren’t properly conditioned. Carrot and stick were needed in equal measure. Naga’s Overseers were simply too draconian in their methods.

No, Jin thought as he entered the summoning chamber and donned the ceremonial Cloak of Blades, taking a pinch of ashes from the veiled matron as he entered the pitch-black room. No. We of Hitogi know how to look after our own. Our bondsmen are as well conditioned as our people. Our Zhurkin inspire fear, and our stout walls inspire confidence. Besides, if they ever did decide to run, there would be no escape.

He threw the ashes into the fire-pit at the very heart of the chamber and watched as a sheen of emerald flame spouted from the pit’s center, billowing and flaring until it engulfed the entire ceiling.

Jin covered his eyes as the fire then took on the shape of a face — a thick cast in the most dun of all palls.

Matriarch Hakumi was staring down at him. He bowed low, saluting in the old way, but it seemed that the Matriarch was in a hurry.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“New orders from the mouth of your Patriarch,” she said. “The Pipers, led by their Pale Lady and Shai-Alud, are on the move. They seek the bridge over the Yangzhao River.”

Jin’s eyes bulged open.

“That is our major supply route,” Jin said without thinking. “Should they take it, they will deprive us of—”

The Matriarch held up a hand wreathed in wildfire. “I’m well aware of your situation, Viceroy Jin. That is why your orders are to scramble your Keth-Tari units.”

Jin blinked. “All of them, Matriarch?”

“Did you hear me utter anything to the contrary? You are to send your forces to reinforce the bridge immediately. The attack is likely to begin tonight.”

Jin nodded hurriedly, his mind racing at the thought of rousing the Tari riders at this hour. Those Yokun were known to be just as aggressive and snappy as the creatures they pulled with them…

Then, a sudden thought occurred to the Viceroy.

“My Matriarch,” he began tentatively. “I do not question the judgment of Patriarch Jung, but if Prince Nagoya is among the forces of the Pipers… that is… a Keth-Tari attack is unpredictable and lacks precision. It is possible that—”

“Do you question your Patriarch’s strategic thought, male?” the Matriarch snapped. “This ‘vision’ is nothing but a cheap tactic designed to break our morale. Your Prince is safe. The Pipers have simply created an adequate impostor.”

Jin gulped away his apprehension. She was right — he, a simple Viceroy, had the gall to doubt the Patriarch of the House of Blades himself? What kind of treasonous thoughts were these that suddenly swirled in his mind?

“It will be done, my Matriarch,” he bowed. “I will send our entire regiment of Keth-Tari along with a detachment of the finest Zhurkin warriors to crush this insurrection before it infects the rest of the population. Of that, you have my word.”

The Matriarch’s smile would have been infectious were it not for how damn creepy it looked.

“See to it that you do,” Hakumi finished. “And Viceroy? When the battle is concluded, bring me the heads of those two human Keji-Sai. I am in need of some new trophies.”

...

Hakumi leaned back in her cushioned throne as she watched the image of the little lizard squirm beneath her. She fanned away the flames of her summoning and turned her attention instead to the being who was strung up before her, arms and legs splayed apart, and furry skin flayed from his bones.

“Did you like that little performance?” she asked the creature — who managed only a stifled moan of pain in reply. “That’s called taking the initiative. Something my fool husband lacks an awareness of.”

Hakumi reached over her armrest and plucked a handful of Luma grapes from the creeping purple vines beside her. She’d had her entire apartment in the Pagoda filled with plants of all descriptions — but she had a particular penchant for those of the Luma tree.

“You know why the Luma is so much loved by the women of our Empire?” she asked her aching prisoner. “Of course not. You’ve only just got here, after all. It’s because the juice of the Luma fruit is said to be blessed by Ming’bao herself. It is the most powerful aphrodisiac in nature. A single drop could turn even a eunuch ravenous with lust. But only once one breaks through the spine-covered outer casing.”

She bit into the thick, moist grape and let the juice run down her teeth and slowly enter her throat, staring at her prisoner with wet yet unblinking eyes the whole time.

“My, my, yes,” she breathed. “Ultimate pleasure and perpetual pain mixed together in a delectable little concoction. That’s what awaits your old Shai-Alud and his bitch out there, and it’s what awaits the old man’s precious little boy. For in just a few hours, they will all perish in fire, and blood, and anguish. But in here… well, we’ll be experiencing something very different. Won’t we, my little pet?”

She threaded her scaled fingers in between the claws of the creature who could do nothing but watch as she violated it. Her tongue slathered over the folds of its exposed muscle and pushed another Luma grape into the quivering hole that now served as its mouth.

“And the beauty is,” she whispered, “that even if Saku falls, I gain. There are a little too many Princes around these days. A little too many holdings outside my reach. The loss of another son and his territory will drive the old man over the edge of any sanity he still possesses. And then? This Empire will finally be placed in the talons of someone who knows what she’s doing.”

The Luma grape burst inside the creature’s throat, and the tongue of the Yokun snaked its way into its bleeding ears.

“So, let’s enjoy this, my little ratman,” she told Skeever Steelclaw. “And when the body of your old Shai-Alud lies at my feet, he can join us too.”

***

Support the story on Patreon to read + 10 advanced chapters for $9.50. Patrons are charged when they join, never by the month, so it's as perfect a time as any to join up and get some sweet extra chaps.

Discord