In time So Ga found himself again in the Little Palace’s kitchens. And though they were no less teeming with chaos, it was of a different sort. The fire had seeped in from the courtyard and begun to chew through the massive space like a beast devouring a meal. The herbs that hung in clusters from the frames on the ceiling were on fire. The ceiling was also on fire, as were the vegetables in their baskets upon the wooden shelves. The shelves, too, were burning frames. Everything was burning.
They pushed through the door into the kitchen gardens where the fire had begun to take the vegetables in their patches. The wooden frames of the garden, soaked with rain, burned thickly, spilling a dense gray smoke. Sen Rin began to prepare them to scale the wall, but their momentum was instantly arrested.
Arrows sailed between them and caught with a powerful blow on the open kitchen door. The force of it flung the door wide and Sen Rin yelled at the others to go back inside. One of his men helped him pull the door closed. Then they drove home the large wooden beam that locked it.
Hin Lan said, “That won’t hold forever.”
So Ga coughed, crouched in a corner as far from the smoking inferno as he could get.
“We will burn to death long before the door gives,” Sen Rin pointed out.
Heat and smoke surrounded them and poured like needles into So Ga’s chest. He coughed until he fell to his knees, dizzy and retching. Sen Rin lifted him by the shoulders and Hin Lan yelled over the roar of the flames that they could not stay here.
Sen Rin answered, “The Front Hall. It is the only way out.”
As the wooden door began to shake and burn, Sen Rin led them out of the kitchens, back through the east wing, and toward the anteroom that connected it to the Front Hall.
So Ga barely recognized the anteroom when they reached it. Most of it had been taken by fire. Here and there he saw the bodies of his household. Some he recognized though he tried not to, some bodies were burned or burning. The wooden cabinet in which they kept his ceremonial golt was gaping open, the silk inside half burned away.
The massive front doors were wide open. They had been burned and then breached, the wood weakened by fire before it had been overcome by force. So Ga had wondered where his bodyswords were and why only these few surrounded him now. But now he saw into his Front Hall, where more than a dozen armored men lay slain on the burning floor.
Who could have done this? he wondered. Where were the Courtyard’s guards? The Palace guards? Who could have done this?
One of the walls of the Front Hall collapsed with a great tearing and splintering of wood. Sen Rin pointed to it with his sword. His men understood.
The wooden exterior of the Front Hall had now been defeated by the flames. The blackened beams of the ceiling had collapsed under the weight of the consuming fire. Two burning drums from the roof rested now in the prince’s receiving room on a pile of charred wood and stone. But through the flames they could see the black night outside. It was their only way out.
They picked their way carefully through the fire. The bodyswords surrounded So Ga as if, he realized in horror, to protect him from the fire with their own bodies. Sen Rin used his sword to push aside burning beams and make a path. The hem of Hin Lan’s golt caught flame and one of the guards quickly sliced the silk fabric. In that moment, So Ga was overcome with how ridiculous he looked with his pale, skinny ankles bared below the sliced edge of his fine silks. He laughed and Hin Lan looked at him, alarmed.
“What is it?” Sen Rin asked as Hin Lan pulled the cloth away from So Ga’s mouth.
“His lips are blue.”
“What?”
“It’s his illness. He is not breathing properly. If we don’t get out of this smoke quickly he’ll die.”
Sen Rin considered that for a moment. Then he nodded and motioned to the other bodyswords. So Ga felt them lift him a little under the arms. He could still move his feet, but they seemed to be doing most of the work.
Before they set him back down, they were through the burning remains of the Front Hall and standing on the stone path that led to the pavilion at the center of the Spring Courtyard. He had not seen the pavilion, nor even this path, or the courtyard, or the little forest behind it in nine years except through his mask.
At that, the prince flailed, grasping at his face. “My mask,” he cried.
Sen Rin did not look at him, but instead looked out across the Spring Courtyard, his face stricken, his eyes shining. He said, “It no longer matters.”
Despite the cloud of fog that had settled on his mind, So Ga could see and understand what had so shocked the head of his guards.
The Spring Courtyard was on fire. Even the earth seemed to be burning. The trees were thin spears of flame waving in the hot winds. Black smoke and red firelight transformed the night into a living darkness, a chewing maw.
Behind them, So Ga’s Little Palace burned, warming their backs. But from where they stood, with the fire they had just escaped behind them, they could see the other three Little Palaces in the distance, nestled, as So Ga’s was, in little patches of forest.
All of them were on fire. The sky even seemed to be on fire. In the distance, So Ga heard the sounds of metal, sword on sword. Fighting.
“A monster has attacked us,” he murmured, eyes wide. “A monster with teeth of iron. We have stepped into the House of Volhathin.”
Sen Rin said, “We cannot get to the Spring Gate, that seems to be where the fighting is.”
Hin Lan answered, “We cannot stay here.”
The guard nodded. “There is a gate on the other side of this forest. It is well-guarded.”
He looked at So Ga, who nodded. “Very well,” he whispered hoarsely.
But he was distracted by the tongues of flame that dotted the landscape, the other three burning palaces. Had the other bodyswords saved their princes? Deeper than that, a thought emerged that he didn’t have the time nor the ability in that moment to consider fully: “What kind of enemy could attack all four Little Palaces at the same time?”
They started to run, two bodyswords holding So Ga up as before. They made it several paces before So Ga heard a sound like a soft whistle and then the guard on his right crumpled like a paper doll. So Ga fell and the company halted. The guard lay dead, an arrow through the back of his neck.
Sen Rin yelled orders at the others and moved to put So Ga behind him.
Outside the burning palace, So Ga’s mind, cleared a little of smoke, had begun to focus. He felt that the events unfolding around him were still, somehow, divided from him as if by a great wide window covered with a thin shade, like he was still behind the green silk screen in the Front Hall and the burning nightmare around him was safely on the other side. He knew what was taking place, but the reality of it was still too distant. As such, he realized, he was not yet afraid. Clutching his burning chest, he wondered how much longer that would last. The night was black except on the edge of the horizon where it had been painted red by the fire. Until now, the sounds of fighting had been distant and unreal.
But finally, here in the space between burning patches of forest, the men and the iron that had been unleashed upon the four Little Palaces were finally before So Ga’s eyes.
The smoke like a shroud of fog had concealed their attackers so that they were mere shadows in the distance. As they approached now, some with blood-darkened swords out and ready, some with bows drawn, So Ga heard Sen Rin count them to his men. Fifteen. Hin Lan pulled So Ga back farther and positioned himself in front of him. He held out his silk shrouded arms, as if the shining fabric could somehow conceal the prince. It wasn’t until several labored seconds had passed that So Ga realized Hin Lan was using his own body as a shield.
One of the bodyswords, a young man with wide, cold eyes, suddenly bellowed, “This is treason! You will be hanged and dismembered and your bodies will never travel the rivers of Ávo—”
But his declaration was cut short by an arrow to the neck. He collapsed at So Ga’s feet. The Prince stared with wide eyes.
“Sona hasn’t dismembered anyone in a very long time.” It was a ridiculous observation, but in that moment was the only thought that presented itself to him. His heart thrummed in his chest and his ears rang. Sweat cooled his brow.
Hin Lan snorted, an alien sound from the calm man. “For these fools, I’m sure His Majesty would be more than happy to take it up again.”
So Ga coughed. Leaning against Hin Lan’s thin back, he coughed violently into his soot-stained silk. Hin Lan glanced at him over his shoulder.
“Rub your chest, Your Highness,” he said. And So Ga tried to obey. “We will get your medicine as soon as we can. Just continue to breathe deeply through —”
His body shook as if he had been struck. So Ga saw an arrow piercing Hin Lan’s left, outstretched arm. The green silk was darkened there by his blood. He grimaced and then called out for Sen Rin.
The bodysword turned, saw the arrow, and shouted, “They are behind us, as well.”
“What do we do?” So Ga whispered into Hin Lan’s stoic face.
“Be calm, Your Highness.” And with a muffled grunt, he snapped the end of the arrow off, leaving the tip embedded in his arm.
Sen Rin pushed Hin Lan aside and lifted So Ga under the arms until he was standing. Then he forced him gently into a run. Hin Lan followed as the other bodyswords surrounded them and they moved to the left, toward a small clutch of trees that were not yet on fire. The trunks were wide and So Ga could conceal himself almost entirely behind one. As Sen Rin positioned him there, two arrows struck the tree and So Ga lurched backward, but Hin Lan held him in place.
“Do not move, Your Highness,” he said, clutching his punctured arm, blood trickling between his fingers.
Sen Rin and the other guards made a small wall around So Ga. He watched as the tall, armored captain of his bodyswords moved away and disappeared into the dark smoke. There came a clash of metal and the wet sound of sliced flesh. Sen Rin reemerged unscathed.
“We cannot stay here,” he said.
More arrows flew by, one grazing the ear of one of the guards that stood in front of So Ga. He clutched at the wound, though his grip on his outstretched sword did not waver.
Silence fell for a moment, and then all at once the shroud of smoke was breached as if a curtain had been lifted, and a wave of armored men fell upon them. Hin Lan wrapped himself around So Ga while the bodyswords moved away to oppose the attacks. So Ga could barely see through Hin Lan’s arms and the great mass of his stiff silk. But he saw that the attackers wore black. Their clothes were black and their armor. It looked like lacquered leather and shone copper in the firelight. Many of them wore hoods and masks. And all of them wore short gray cloaks. Their swords were simple, their armor unadorned. They were mercenaries, even So Ga could see that.
He felt a series of small impacts but did not think himself hit or wounded in any way. It wasn’t until he felt blood warm his shoulder that he realized what had happened.
Hin Lan was slumped against him, still, quiet. So Ga shook him and said his name but heard only a low, murmuring groan. Sen Rin glanced back, but said nothing. So Ga called out, but his guards were occupied.
Finally he pushed Hin Lan’s weight off his shoulders. The tutor slid on his silks onto the ground. His back, So Ga finally saw, was bristled with arrows. Too many to count.
“Hin Lan,” So Ga cried, panicking at the sight of the blood-soaked silk, at Hin Lan’s colorless face. The fire and the fighting all around them seemed to create a single shrill cry and So Ga could hear nothing but the sound of his own racing heart. “I will get the physician,” he said absurdly. But Hin Lan held him tightly by the arm.
“No, Your Highness.”
“But you are wounded.”
“No, Your Highness,” he said without emotion. “I am dying.”
So Ga shook his head and tried to push away Hin Lan’s grip on his arm. “I will get help. Let go of me. I will get help.”
“Your Highness,” Hin Lan murmured, beckoning him closer.
So Ga, tears hot on his cheeks, bent his ear to his tutor’s lips.
“Your question— it was the investigation,” Hin Lan whispered, hoarsely, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Then he nodded, as if this was enough to convey what he meant. With great labor, he swallowed.
“I don’t understand.” So Ga shook his head.
“The attack, nine years ago.” He gasped for breath, then, “you asked who they were. They led the investigation.”
“What? Who?”
“Sonen, Your Highness. The Sonen House led the investigation.”
“I don’t understand.”
Hin Lan smiled lightly, in that way he did when So Ga became too frustrated with his studies to continue. He touched So Ga’s chest, the tip of his finger striking the golden seal under his clothes, “It does not matter who you are.” Then he paused to gasp again, “Be careful who you trust.”
And then he became very still. His eyes were open but empty.
So Ga shook him again and said his name. An arrow flew by his head, moving his hair. Sen Rin yelled at him to get down, but he could not move to protect the prince as his sword was locked with enemy steel and many others surrounded him. So Ga wondered if he was about to die, but the thought seemed very far away. He held Hin Lan’s bloody hand tightly, the tutor’s arm had become very heavy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur of black moving toward him. The glint of steel in the firelight caught his attention and he turned to see a mercenary lunging for him, sword out, bloody and shining.
An arrow to the chest stopped the black-clad mercenary in his tracks. He fell back, dropped his sword. Another arrow pierced his eye. He fell to his knees and finally collapsed dead, inches from So Ga’s knees.
Sen Rin turned, stunned, as a group of Palace guards broke through the smoke and fell upon the remaining mercenaries who had surrounded them. In a moment they were all dead and So Ga was surrounded by his own men. They bowed to the prince and then turned to Sen Rin.
“We looked for you in your Little Palace,” one said to him.
“It is on fire.”
“Yes.”
“The other princes?”
The guard shook his head, face grim. “All dead.”
So Ga gaped in astonishment, his breath caught in his aching chest.
One of the guards said, “Is your prince—?”
But Sen Rin silenced him with a glance. So Ga knew what he had wanted to ask. He did not blame him. If it was true that he was the last of the four Little Princes, anyone would wonder if he was the true one. So Ga put his palm on his chest and felt, under the layers of cloth, the thick gold chain and the golden seal that hung from it. The seal that identified him as the true prince. It was more precious now than ever.
Sen Rin said, “Where are the rest of the Palace swords?”
“Occupied. This army is massive. They are slaughtering everyone from all four Little Palaces, not just the princes. Servants too. But they haven’t breached the Spring Gate.”
One of So Ga’s bodyswords asked, “How did they get in?”
But Sen Rin said, “Not now.” He turned to the Palace guard. “How many can you spare?”
“None. We must still guard the Spring Gate. These mercenaries cannot be permitted to enter the main Palace.”
“This is the crown prince.”
“My first duty is to the king.”
“There are only four of us left.”
“I am sorry. I have lost dozens of swords. Maybe a hundred. I have never seen mercenaries like this. They are at least as well-trained as we are. We will be lucky to preserve the Palace. You should take your prince out of the walls and hide him until morning.”
“And then what?”
“The capital guards.”
“Have they not been called to the Palace?”
“They won’t be unless the Spring Gate falls. Go to the barracks behind the east bridge. It is nearby. Let them escort you back into the Palace. The only way to protect the prince is to take him out of the Palace. These bastards will not be able to chase you into the streets of the city.”
Sen Rin did not seem to have a better plan. He worked to catch his breath as he sheathed his sword.
“Protect the king,” he said to the guard. “We will protect the prince.”
The man nodded and, after he and the other Palace guards bowed to So Ga, they disappeared back into the smoke, toward the fires and the fighting.
Sen Rin again lifted So Ga onto his feet.
“Hin Lan is dead,” So Ga announced, struggling to shake himself from his daze.
Sen Rin nodded.
“All the other princes, too.”
“Yes. I am sorry, Your Highness. We have failed in our duty.”
“We will leave the Palace?”
“Only for a moment. When the sun is up we will return.”
So Ga nodded. “Very well.”
Hin lan you shall be missed 😕💔
O príncipe é um personagem interessante, diferente do comum.
Fiquei triste pelos outros príncipes. Viveram uma vida que não era a deles e não chegaram a lado nenhum.