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"Let us pass," Matei called.

The city gates before them were closed. On either side of the tall doors was a pair of imperial guards, their sky blue livery clean and bright.

"The Holy City is closed," said one of the four. "We see you have dead to bury, but we cannot let you pass. Go back whence you came."

Mhera pulled her braid over her shoulder so that it fell across her front. She was conscious of how she must look—filthy and bedraggled, in a man's overlarge trousers and tunic. Kaori certainly looked nothing like himself, with his blonde curls slick with sweat and matted with dirt and blood. Nevertheless, she drew herself up and said, "I am Sister Mhera, daughter of Princess Mharin, and this man is Prince Kaori. He is not dead."

The guards stood up straighter, exchanging bewildered glances. One of them muttered, "It's a woman."

"These two have been my hostages, and I come to return them," said Matei. "I am Matei u Rhodana, called the rebel king. I wish to put an end to this war."

Silence fell for a moment. Then, almost hesitantly, one of the guards pointed his spear toward the trio in the road. He said, "Sal, call the Captain. Lady—come away from him."

Matei reached out and took hold of Mhera's upper arm. "No. She is mine until I see my purpose here fulfilled."

Mhera did not have to see it; she felt the magic as Matei conjured it. It rippled through the atmosphere and drew on her, causing her to shiver as she felt the physical sensation of the energy pulled out through her own hands. She stood still, not daring to look at Matei's face. She must let them think she was afraid.

The men all stared, their postures stiff and wary. One of them turned and rapped on the gate. A moment later he said, "To see the Captain. We've a man out here says he's the rebel king. ... Just go and get him!" He turned around and leveled his spear at Matei again.

Matei let the magic fade, but even so, as several minutes passed, the tension rose. He did not release Mhera's arm.

At last, two men appeared high above on the ramparts of the city wall. One of them, wearing a helmet that marked him out as a captain of the guard, called down: "Who goes there?"

"I am Matei u Rhodana," Matei repeated, raising his voice to a shout. "I bring you Sister Mhera, the lady niece of the emperor, and his second son, Prince Kaori. I come to make peace with the emperor."

The captain laughed. They could hear him, even so far away. "Aye, and I'm the emperor himself."

"He has a magic hand, sir!" called the guard named Sal. "Threatened us with it!"

Mhera pulled the blanket off of Kaori and shouted to make herself heard by the captain. "Please—the prince is gravely wounded, sir! Do you want it to be on your head when you leave him lying out on the road?"

The man at the captain's side bent in and appeared to consult with him for a moment. Then he went away. The captain looked back down at them; Mhera could not see his expression from so far away. He did not say anything before he, too, turned and was gone.

More time passed. Mhera looked at Matei, seeing his exhausted face in the moonlight. His features were set with determination now, and she knew he was resolved to carry this through to the end.

There was a hollow knocking sound from the gates to the city, and then they began to creak open. Someone passed between them as soon as there was space enough. The light of the moon fell upon him; it gleamed on his golden circlet and the naked sword he carried as he marched out onto the road.

Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]Where stories live. Discover now