Songs of Insurrection: A Legends of Tivara Story (The Dragon Songs Saga Book 1) Read online

  A lump formed in Kaiya’s throat. She sank to both knees. Stretching her arms out to straighten her sleeves, she placed her hands in front of her as she pressed her forehead to the floor.

  The Tianzi’s voice wobbled. “Rise, my daughter.”

  Kaiya straightened and met his piercing regard, one that warned not to mention the foreign prince. Her clenching chest squeezed out all her resolve.

  No, Father would never condone the suffering of Prince Hardeep and his people for mere profit. The assembled lords must be hiding the truth. Someone had to tell him, lest Heaven punish the realm for its immorality. She lifted her chin. “Please hear the request of Prince Hardeep Vaswani of Ankira.”

  Behind her, the lords and ministers stifled gasps.

  Yet Father’s expression softened. “What does Prince Hardeep ask of Hua?”

  “Huang-Shang,” she said, using the formal address for the Tianzi. “He asks that we cease sales of firepowder to the Madurans.”

  The ministers broke into a low murmur until Chief Minister Tan rose to one knee, head bowed. “Huang-Shang, I negotiated our original agreement with Madura. It has been mutually beneficial.”

  Beneficial. Riches for Hua, conquest for Madura. Misery for her Prince Hardeep’s Ankira. Breaking all decorum, Kaiya spun and scowled at Chief Minister Tan. Fine lines of age framed his triangular face, giving him a foxlike appearance. When she released him from her glare, he averted his eyes as protocol demanded.

  She turned back to Father. “Huang-Shang, do the Five Classics not say that a ruler must act morally? Our actions have led to an unenviable situation in Ankira that we should seek to rectify.”

  Peng Kai-Long rose up to one knee. “Huang-Shang, I agree with the princess. Not only that, but once the Madurans pacify Ankira, and the trade agreement does expire, they will turn their ambitions toward us.”

  Chief Minister Tan shook his head. “We are their source of firepowder. They will make war with someone else.”

  And spread despair, with Hua’s complicity. Kaiya formulated a dignified response in her head. What kind of country put profit over people? Not only should they not renew the trade agreement... “A moral nation would terminate the treaty now.”

  More murmurs, undoubtedly from greedy lords who cared more about gold and silver.

  “Unfortunately, that is not an option,” the Chief Minister said. “In the original negotiations, I bore an imperial plaque. To go against our word, sealed with a plaque, is tantamount to the Tianzi forsaking the Mandate of Heaven. It would invite another Hellstorm.”

  Kaiya sucked in her breath at the implication. Three centuries before, the last emperor of the Yu Dynasty had reneged on his plaque-bound obligations. The gods rained divine fire from the sky as punishment, blasting open a new sea in the fertile plains of the Ayuri South and plunging the world into the Long Winter.

  It was unusual for an imperial plaque to be used in simple trade negotiations, since it represented the honor of the Tianzi. However, as a girl—even as a princess—she couldn’t challenge the Chief Minister’s word directly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “How much longer does the agreement last?”

  Tan’s brows furrowed as he looked to the ceiling. “A year, maybe? I do not recall.”

  Prince Hardeep didn’t have a year. Kaiya turned back to Father. “Should we delay a decision until we find the original contract in the Trade Ministry’s archives?”

  The Tianzi straightened on the throne. He waved toward the lords and officials. “Everyone but Crown Prince Kai-Guo, Young Lord Peng, and Princess Kaiya will withdraw for tea.”

  All present bowed their foreheads to the floor before rising. Whether they drank tea or not, the Tianzi’s suggestion left no doubt, they would drink something, somewhere else. They filed out in precise order.

  Pulse skittering, Kaiya folded her hands into her lap. Father’s stare might as well have been a dwarven anvil on her shoulders.

  Once the room cleared, servants closed the doors. The hall seemed more cavernous with only Eldest Brother, Cousin Kai-Long, and a dozen imperial guards remaining, and was made even more so by the Tianzi’s echoing voice.

  “Kai-Long,” he said. “It seems the foreign prince ignored the unspoken denial and deigned to pressure the princess into acting as his mouthpiece.”

  Cousin Kai-Long pressed his head to the floor. “Huang-Shang, forgive me for suggesting it.”

  Kaiya found him in the corner of her eye. Her stomach felt hollow. She’d failed all their expectations, even when doing the right thing by helping Ankira.

  “I warned you, Cousin.” Eldest Brother Kai-Guo’s lips drew into a tight line. “Kaiya isn’t trained. She should have just occupied him with idle banter. She is more musician than imperial representative.”

  Heat pulsated in Kaiya’s cheeks. Apparently, they’d forgotten she was kneeling right there beside them. Then Eldest Brother’s attention fell on her hand, which was subconsciously twirling a lock of her hair, proving his point. She jerked the hand back to her lap.

  Kai-Guo looked to the throne. “Father, may I speak freely?”

  “I would not have sequestered the family if not to allow you the latitude.”

  Kai-Guo bowed his head. “Then if I may, you dote on Kaiya to the detriment of the realm. She wastes her time on music when she should be learning how to be a proper princess. You could have ordered her to marry any six of the previous young lords she met. Instead, you not only allowed her to choose, you pulled her out of matchmaking meetings.”

  Father’s brows clashed together for a split second. “She is not ready to be married, not to one of those men.”

  Kaiya’s head spun. So the interruptions had been Father’s doing, but why? What was wrong with those suitors, besides their lack of wit and self-absorbed attitudes?

  “She needs to marry one of those men,” Kai-Guo said. “A princess’ duty—”

  The Tianzi’s lip quirked just a fraction into a frown. Kai-Guo fell silent and bowed.

  Father’s expression softened as he turned to her. “My daughter, it was unfair of me to assign you this task after shielding you from court intrigue all this time. I indulged your love of music when I should have prepared you to become my eyes and ears in your future husband’s fief.”

  Suppressing a sigh, Kaiya bowed her head. To the realm, her worth as a musician would never surpass her value as a bride. “Why one of those six men?”

  Father’s eyes searched hers. “What do they have in common?”

  Besides having less personality than a rock and egos larger than the three moons combined? Kaiya cocked her head. “They are all sons of Yu-Ming lords.”

  “Yes. Second-rank prefectural and county nobles.” Father’s stare bored into her. “From where?”

  Why was it important? Especially compared to Ankira’s plight? She caught herself before twirling the stubborn lock of hair again. “The North. Regions near the Wall.”

  “What can you tell me about the area?”

  Had she known a geography test would follow matchmaking and greeting foreign dignitaries, maybe she would have stolen a few minutes out of her rigid schedule to study a map. Her brows furrowed. On her last trip, she’d seen... “Rolling hills rise into mountains. Bloodwood trees dot the mountainsides. The land is poor for farming, but the counties thrive from mining.”

  He looked to Eldest Brother and Cousin Kai-Long. “See? She understands more than it appears.” He turned back to her. “My daughter, while the realm may seem prosperous and stable, not all under Heaven is well. My spies say several of the lords of the North harbor rebellious intent. They are as hard as the mountains they defend. To keep them content and docile, we buy saltpeter from their mines and process it in the capital to make firepowder.”

  Kaiya stifled a gasp. For Prince Hardeep and his Ankira, that meant... “We need foreign markets to sell the firepowder to.”

  The Tianzi tilted his head a fraction. “We reserve the freshest for ourselves and sell older stocks.” br />
  She sucked in a breath. “What about Ankira? We profit from their misery.”

  “Sometimes, practicality shades moral precepts.”

  At her side, Brother nodded. Cousin Kai-Long’s lips pursed.

  Kaiya lowered her hand from where she was again twisting that lock of hair. Her own father was rationalizing actions which caused another people’s suffering. Wasn’t this the paragon of nobility who had ingrained a sense of morality in her? “But—”

  His eyes narrowed, the warmth replaced by authority. “Convey my regret to Prince Hardeep.”

  The Tianzi had given a command. Cowed by his stern tone, she bowed. Kai-Guo and Kai-Long followed suit.

  When she raised her head, Father’s regard softened. “You are so beautiful, my daughter. I will announce your betrothal at the reception tonight. After you send the foreign prince away, go meet with General Lu.”

  The bottom dropped out of her belly. Betrothal! To the commander of the armies in the North. Their planned meeting had been more than a choreographed farce, and with a possible rebellion brewing, perhaps the Guardian Dragon of Hua had not been the one to request it after all.

  She started to speak, but Father’s genuine smile stifled her protest. Her heart sank into her stomach. Betrothal appeared as immutable as Hua’s agreement with Madura. She’d be married, probably as soon as she flowered with Heaven’s Dew, perhaps even forbidden by a dour new husband from singing. Forget her stomach; her heart lay shattered on the marble tiles.

  Rising, she trudged out of the hall, back into bright sunlight. This had to be a dream. Marriage. Like Xiulan, night after night of trying to make babies with Eldest Brother Kai-Guo. Monotonous routines all day. But at least Xiulan could practice the magic of her calligraphy with friends and family.

  Not Kaiya. She’d be shipped away to barren hills. Devoid of music. Alone. No, it couldn’t be real. She took a deep breath to slow her stuttering pulse. A smooth river pebble found its way from her sash into her hand. Cool and soothing, it was a token from her childhood friend Zheng Tian, the boy she’d once laughingly promised to marry. How simple and carefree those days were! If only she could marry him instead of some pompous soldier. But no; even though he might be the son of a first-rank Tai-Ming lord, he’d been banished years ago for a stupid mistake.

  She glanced back at her senior-most imperial guard, Chen Xin. He was looking at her hand, frowning. Even on the worst day of her life, it would not do to let anyone see weakness. With a wistful sigh, she straightened her spine and squirrelled the pebble back into its place in her sash. Before meeting her future husband, there was first the equally onerous task of walking back and denying a desperate plea. Thoughts of her own dismal future would have to wait.

  Outside the Hall of Bountiful Harvests, she paused and composed herself. Prince Hardeep was just a man. A handsome one, for sure, but she’d met many other good-looking men without wilting into a starry-eyed fool. Steeling herself against whatever magic Prince Hardeep had used to beguile her, she stepped over the threshold.

  The prince pressed his hands together and bent his head as she entered. He looked up expectantly.

  His irises. They again entranced her.

  Her straight posture softened as her insides summersaulted. She bowed low. It broke formal court etiquette, and indeed, the ministry secretary clucked his disapproval. At least it would conceal her spine melting to jelly. She held the position and focused on the prince’s red-and-gold-threaded shoes. “I am afraid that Cathay must honor its agreements, lest the Tianzi lose the Mandate of Heaven and the realm descend into chaos.”

  “Do not apologize.” His voice was sweet again, with a touch of melancholy. General Lu would probably never speak to her with such affection. “Please, raise your head.”

  His last words filled her like a warm breath into a soap bubble. She straightened.

  Shoulders slumping, the prince tilted his eyes downward. He was handsome, even in sadness. “Will you sing for me? As a memory of our meeting?”

  A song. Kaiya’s heart flitted. She would do this for him, appropriate or not. At least someone today would appreciate her voice. She looked over her shoulder toward the official, who scowled and shook his head. No? Who was he to defy her wishes?

  The prince’s lips trembled into a brittle smile.

  Her first foray into diplomacy might have ended in disaster, but with music, very few in Hua could rival her. Perhaps if magic in music were still possible, Father would value her ability over her marriage prospects. She lifted her voice in song, her soul soaring with each breath. The Broken Sword recounted how the Founder had transformed weakness into strength. Perhaps it would give Hardeep hope.

  Exultation surged through her spine, into her limbs. All uncertainties and self-doubts melted away. With each note, she shed her poor imitation of imperial grace, replacing it with the sincerity of her soul. Not even the tight dress could contain her. Verse upon verse rose to a crescendo, her spirit floating with it.

  Prince Hardeep’s blue eyes sparkled. “Even Yanyan would envy your voice.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks. How could he compare her to the girl from a thousand years before, who had summoned storms with her music and sung the dragon Avarax to sleep? “Yanyan charmed an orc army into surrender with her song. I could not even convince my father to change his mind.”

  “You spoke from your heart, and the emperor listened.” His forlorn smile sent a chill up her spine. “With an indomitable spirit, you can move your people to do the right thing.”

  Could she? Besides Cousin Kai-Long, none of the men in the Hall of Supreme Harmony had shown any concern for morality. She sighed. “If I had the voice of Yanyan, he would have listened.”

  Those blue eyes searched hers. “Channeling magic through artistic endeavor is the gift of your people, just as the fighting arts are ours. Come with me, and scatter the Maduran armies with the power of your music.”

  Was he suggesting running away? With him? Escaping marriage with General Lu? She glanced back at the official. If he understood, the prince might lose his head. And if only shirking duty were so easy. They wouldn’t make it to the front gates, even if she could bring herself to take up his offer.

  Tearing her gaze away, she shook her head. “Even though master performers from Hua’s past could accomplish amazing feats with music, those skills have since faded into legend. You would need an elf.” Like Father’s councilor, Lord Xu. Too bad nobody could predict when the enigmatic elf would make an appearance.

  Prince Hardeep took her hands in his. Excitement rose in his tone. “With your voice and musical talent, you have the potential. We will research. I can help you scour your records. Together, we could learn how the masters of old did it.”

  His touch sent heat up her arms and into her core. Behind her, the official sucked in a sharp breath and the imperial guards stepped forward. Kaiya withdrew, for his safety, and raised an open hand to assuage the guards. Was it even possible? “How can I learn from books what the elf angel taught Yanyan?”

  “I would hazard to guess that singing a dragon to sleep is just a little more difficult than convincing a doting father to do the right thing.” He put a finger to his chin. “And if—no, when—you succeed, you will save my nation.”

  Yes! No. Even if it were possible to learn from dusty old books, using magic to change a Tianzi’s mind flirted with treason even more than running away. She met his gaze again. Those eyes implored her, making her belly flutter. No, helping Ankira was the moral thing to do. Here was a chance to show that music was worth something. That she was worth something, beyond her value as a bride to some lord. “I will try.”

  A grin bloomed on his face. “Ankira owes you a debt of gratitude. I owe you.”

  Kaiya twirled an errant lock of hair. “We will need to retrace Yanyan’s steps. To find out exactly where she met the elf angel.” Which meant a trip to the national archives. After the mandated matchmaking with General Lu.

  She looked into t
he prince’s eyes. No. He was here, close, and marriage to the general seemed so far away. They’d go now, even though it meant disobeying Father.

  CHAPTER 3

  Treacherous Intents

  In his official capacity as a harbormaster’s scribe, eighteen-year-old Zheng Tian had no business breaking into a warehouse. However, as a Moquan spy whose clan worked for the Tianzi, it was well within his mandate to do so. Now if only he could pick the accursed lock to the heavy blockwood door.

  “Hurry up, Tian,” his clan sister and cell leader, Yan Jie, hissed. “The guards are halfway to the corner.”

  Tian glanced up to the south, where the alley between the warehouses provided a view of the iridescent moon Caiyue. Waning to fourth gibbous; two hours before dawn. The guards were ahead of schedule. He hadn’t heard them coming, but then Jie’s half-elf blood gave her adorable pointed ears with exceptional hearing.

  He motioned to the lock. “Shine the light there.”

  The roll of her eyes, while not visible from where he knelt, carried in her hushed tone. “A blindfolded orc with three fingers missing would have broken in by now.”

  Easy for the one holding the light to say. Now, even his hearing picked up the guards’ laughter. He twisted the pick in the narrow hole for the third time. With a soft click, the lock yielded. A little pressure on the door confirmed the hinges were well-oiled, and he pushed it open. Without a sound, he pulled Jie in and closed the door behind them.

  In the silent darkness, Jie tapped her fingers on his forearm in their clan code. Two guards, now turning corner... Now passing door... All clear.

  A dim light from her magic bauble spilled from between her fingers, casting her childlike features in a shadowed hue. Though ten years, three months and two days his senior, she looked no older than eleven, thanks to her elf heritage.