They rode from the compound. Five of them, plus Daigo, who stayed so close to Moria that he made her horse uneasy.
“Tell me what happened,” the emperor said as soon as the gate closed behind them. “Start with Fairview.”
Tyrus did. He explained what they’d found there, and the decisions they made after that. He let his father know that his choices had been supported by the counselors, without impressing the point so deeply he seemed defensive. He told him about the merchant by the roadside, whose story had seemed to support Tyrus’s decision. He told him about Jorojumo and the plan to attack the camp. He took full responsibility for any poor choices, and when Moria leaped in to defend him, he quieted her with a look.
“It’s all right,” Emperor Tatsu said to Moria. “I do trust that he made informed choices that my men supported. I will also be the first to admit that he should not have been placed in a position where he had to make them. It was a mission that a seasoned veteran would have struggled with.” He looked at Tyrus. “You did well.”
“I’d have done better if I’d won the battle.”
“There was no chance of that. You’d have done better if you’d realized Jorojumo planned to betray you, but that is a skill you were never taught, and it isn’t one that comes naturally to you. You have your mother’s good heart and trusting nature. I would not ever say that I’m glad of this experience, for teaching you mistrust, but I am glad that it was a lesson you learned with more speed than I would have expected.”
He paused at a fork in the path, then led them east before he continued, “When I left the imperial city three nights ago, I told Marshal Mujina that I wished to meet quietly with some of my warlords to discuss the impending war. The truth is that I was looking for you. Lord Okami was not the first I visited. I thought you might have taken refuge with one of my relations or even your mother’s people. I am pleased to see that you were more cautious than that. You made the best possible choice. The Okami clan are loyal to their own above the empire, much like a wolf with its pack.”
Dalain made a noise in his throat.
“I take no insult in your choice,” the emperor said, glancing at the young man. “Every clan has its way, and the trick to leading them is to know what those ways are and work within those boundaries.”
“And what clan is this person you’re taking us to meet, your highness?” Moria asked.
The emperor laughed. “You could be an Okami yourself, child. You struggle with the niceties as much as they do. Yes, I know you’re anxious to learn who it is, but it’s best to wait. This meeting was not my purpose in coming here. I left the city with only Lysias and met our third party just this morning, when our paths crossed by fortuitous happenstance. In coming after Tyrus, though, my purpose was to ensure he was safe and to tell him to stay that way.”
“Keep lying low,” Tyrus said. “Hiding.”
“Which you will hate, as I can tell by your tone. But you’re a more gifted politician than you care to admit, Tyrus. You know full well that I do not dare plead your case under the current circumstances. That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m not trying to clear your name. The first step is to break Simeon, which won’t be easy when he’s now considered a hero. I can hardly throw him into my dungeons and interrogate him.”
“So where is he?”
“He was in the court. As an honored guest . . . under very close guard, supposedly for his own protection. He’s now joined an expedition heading to the eastern provinces. Sadly, he’ll vanish in the night. Perhaps he already has. It’s difficult to schedule these things.”
“I’m not sure you’ll get more from him than the admission that he lied,” Tyrus said. “While it’s possible someone was directing his betrayal, I fear he may have acted on his own, after Ashyn rejected his advances.”
“Rejected his . . . ?” The emperor shook his head. “I would certainly hope he would have a better reason than that for accusing an imperial prince of treason, but with young men, one never knows.”
They crossed a streambed riding single file. Daigo took a running leap and jumped from shore to shore.
“Now, Moria,” the emperor said. “We’ve heard Tyrus’s tale. I’d like to hear yours.”
“First, if I may ask, your imperial highness, has there been any word of the children?”
“No, child. My scouts and spies search, but there is no sign of them. I can only trust Alvar realizes their value and would not harm them.”
She nodded and told him her story, starting with the events on the battlefield and ending with a simple, “I was captured and held hostage until I managed to escape.”
“May I ask about the nature of your captivity? You were cared for, I presume?”
Moria tried not to hesitate. She could feel Tyrus’s gaze on her, and she was determined not to let him know about the dungeon.
“I was adequately cared for, your highness. My needs were met, though I was clearly a captive.”
“And who was in charge of your keeping?”
Now she did hesitate. When the silence stretched too long, he glanced at her. “Rumor says it was Gavril Kitsune. Well, that is, the rumor that confirms you were a captive, which is harder to come by than the one that says you were his . . .” His gaze slid Tyrus’s way and he cleared his throat. “That you were Gavril’s ally. My sources are, fortunately, more widespread than that, and one within the Kitsune camp says Alvar put his son in charge of your care. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“And he did care for you. You were not abused?”
“I . . . was not.”
He didn’t seem to notice the catch in her voice. “As I should expect. Beyond the lack of abuse, though, did he care for you well?”
Moria swore she smelled the faint stink of sweat waft up. This was like treading across a field laced with traps. To admit she’d been mistreated would cause Tyrus further guilt. To say she’d been treated well was a lie that spoke kindly of someone who’d done nothing to deserve her kindness.
“Gavril ensured I had what I needed. Food, water, clean clothing. . . . He eventually allowed me to take walks, under guard. His father keeps him very busy, so days would pass without my seeing him, making it difficult to judge his level of involvement with my care.”
The emperor nodded. He seemed not to pay undue attention to her words, as if he’d already drawn conclusions and asked only to be polite.
“Now, speaking of rumors, Moria, I hear that on the night of your escape, Alvar hosted a party.”
“Yes . . .”
“And that party was to celebrate your betrothal to Gavril Kitsune.”
“What?” Tyrus said, pulling his horse up short.
“No,” Moria said. “I mean, yes, it was, but there was no—It was—It had nothing to do with me.”
“I wasn’t questioning that,” Tyrus said, his voice softening. “I mean, is this some scheme of Gavril’s? If he tried to force you into a betrothal—”
“No, he was as upset over it as I was. It was his father’s scheme. And even he knew well enough to promise Gavril there would be no wedding. The ruse was intended to—”
“—spiritually validate his claim to the imperial throne.” The emperor turned to Tyrus. “What Moria says is exactly what I heard. While we do not allow our Keepers and Seekers to marry, there is precedent from the Age of Fire. The clans were at war, and the goddess supposedly bestowed a Seeker on one of the chieftains as his wife. He began winning his battles, which solidified his claim to hold the goddess’s favor. He became king—a ruthless one—and his successor passed the law against marrying Keepers and Seekers. Now, suddenly, people are whispering the name of that forgotten king and embellishing his deeds. Alvar was always a master at the art of spreading stories.”
“So he says his son has won the love of a Keeper,” Tyrus said. “Proving him a young warrior truly blessed by the goddess.”
Emperor Tatsu nodded. “While that makes a good story, he has more prosaic reasons for the union. The tale of Moria’s betrayal is prevalent, yet there are whispers of the truth—of her captivity.”
“If she is betrothed to Gavril, it squashes those rumors.”
“Yes. I’m sure there are more reasons, too. Where a normal man has a single purpose for any given action, Alvar has nine.”
“But . . .” It was Dalain now, and they all turned to look at him. “While this is interesting, the Keeper is now free. Are you telling us we must be careful? That he’ll come for her?”
“No.” Emperor Tatsu turned to Moria. “I’m telling you, child, that you must go back.”
Silence. Stunned silence.
Tyrus broke it, saying carefully, “You could not have said what I think you did, Father.”
“I fear I did.” The emperor swung off his horse. “Dalain? Could you mind the steeds for us? I need to walk with my son and the Keeper.”
“No,” Tyrus said. “I don’t believe you do. If you are suggesting that Moria ought to return—”
“I’m saying she must return. To help us win this war.”
Moria scrambled off her horse. “Go back? To Alvar Kitsune? As what? A spy?”
“Exactly. I mentioned that I do have a contact in the camp, but it’s an imperfect one. A warrior who is simply an old man uncertain where his devotions lie and hoping war can be averted. He has no rank and cannot get me anything of use. I need a true spy in that camp. One who will, because of her new position, be free to slip about, assessing the situation, overhearing strategy, and reporting back to me. I need you, Moria. Back in Alvar’s camp.”
“How exactly would I do that?” she said. “Run to the gates and tell them I made a terrible mistake? If you suggest that I return and pretend I’m secretly in love with Gavril Kitsune and came back to be with him . . .” She choked on the words. “If I even attempted it, I’d give myself away so badly that Alvar would execute me as a spy before I finished my declaration.”
“I know,” the emperor said. “You’re no performer. I’d not ask you to do that. You will instead return as you originally arrived. As a hostage. Captured by someone who has been pursuing you since you escaped last night.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
The voice came from the forest, and with it her heart stopped.
No, it cannot be. I cannot recognize a voice from one word.
Everyone turned toward that voice as a figure stepped from the forest. A tall figure. Cloaked and hooded. He reached up to pull the hood down, and even as he did, Moria saw those fingers—long, dark fingers, the nails trimmed to the quick, and she knew she was right.
I cannot recognize a man by his fingers. I cannot.
Yes, she could.
Gavril pushed his hood back and stepped into the clearing. “You’ll be coming back with me, Keeper.”