Page 25 of The Poet Empress
I should notwantto understand these things, I knew, things which were meant for the minds of men. But poetry was truth and emotion. Terren had confirmed it himself. I suspected that only men got to be literomancers because only they knew the truth. Perhaps if I were to write a Blessing myself, I needed to know the truth too.
“Who are the factions that support each prince?” I asked Ciyi one evening.
We had finished withThe Annalsby then, and evenThe Classics of Heaven and the Ancestors, which was the book he had me read next. Nowwe were in the middle ofMyths of the West—a fictional epic about demons and men who fought them riding clouds. The scroll lay open on the table. We had encountered a break in the story, and I had found my mind wandering back to court.
Ciyi frowned at me, the way he always did when I asked questions I was not supposed to be asking. “You keep pushing the boundaries of our agreement.”
“I am growing concerned for our prince, that is all. His brothers fighting for the throne might pose a danger to his life. I wish to understand just how strong their bid for the Crown is.”And how much hope I have of one of them deposing Terren.
I was not sure if Ciyi believed me anymore, when I pretended my questions came from anywhere but my own curiosity. But to his credit, he did not berate me. Instead, he sighed and excused himself. When he returned, it was with a chess set.
“The emperor has produced five seal-bearing sons, each with a different mother.”
The eunuch removed five ceramic tiles and, with a brush pen, inked characters on the backs of four of them. Maro’sroads,Terren’sblades, Isan’sfruit, Kiran’swind. The fifth tile he left empty, for Ruyi’s unknown sigil.
Dit, dit—he set the tiles onto the board one by one. “Do you know what happens to a prince’s magic when he becomes emperor?”
I nodded. “The one who holds the Crown will have his magic amplified a thousandfold.”
“Right. So as you might imagine, the question of who wins the throne has major implications on the people’s future. Will the coming years be ruled by economy and trade routes, as will be the case if Maro inherits”—Ciyi moved the?/Lu tile to one end of the board—“or by military power, if Terren does?” The?/Dao tile went to the other end, on the opposite side of the chessboard’s river.
I thought about Isan and his?/Guo magic, and the peach tree he grew back in Guishan. “Why did the emperor not choose his third son for heir? It seems an obvious choice. His fruit power can help with the famine.”
Ciyi shook his head. “It is not so simple, Lady Yin. When it comes to choosing which seal to amplify, the emperor must balance many externalforces. Will the Great Clans approve? Will the magic be strong enough to contest foreign powers? Will it grow the nation’s legacy, so that the next generation will be more prosperous than the last? And, perhaps most important of all, will it maintain stabilitywithinthe country? The last Ash Dynasty prince did not have strong enough support, and the nation was burned from inside by all the infighting and rebellions.”
I remembered the crowd of men on Selection Day, each gathering next to their allied princes. “Prince Maro has a lot of support. He was popular among the merchants.”
“Right. There are many who back the first son with their coin and army, in hopes of a more trade-oriented future. The merchants, as you say.” Ciyi withdrew a blank tile and slid it towards?/Lu. “But there are others, as well.”
He drew a handful of fresh tiles. “Since we are in a harsh famine, many of the provinces languish. For their governors, new routes means the ability to connect the poorer districts to the wealthier ones, so that aid and prosperity can be spread faster.” He slid some of them towards?/Lu. “But of course, the wealthier provinces—like Chong’an and Sial—don’twantto share.”Dit, dit—he slid two new tiles towards?/Dao. “Then there are those who want to expand the Salt Road westward, in hopes that more trade with foreign powers will strengthen our nation. Then there are those who wish to fortify our existing borders instead, to ensure that nobody can destroy us while we’re weak.” Tiles moved to both sides of the river.
Ciyi continued in this way until almost all the blank tiles had been divided. When he was done, there were far more pieces on theroadsside than theblades. A few tiles were nestled next tofruitorwind,but not enough to make much of a difference. A lone tile, which stood for the Sun Clan, went to Ruyi’s piece.
“So now you see,” said Ciyi, gesturing at the board. “The third and fourth sons have few allies, so they do not make ideal choices for heir. Neither does little Ruyi, though the Sun Clan would certainly try.”
I stared at the board a long time before speaking. “But the first son still has more supporters than the second. Why did the emperor remove him as heir?” It had happened so suddenly, only a few months ago. “Why choose someone so—” I stopped short of sayingdetestable. “Why choose someone less favored?”
Ciyi sighed. “Nobody knows for sure, as His Majesty has long been too ill to speak. But if I were to guess, it is because war is on the horizon once again. The Lian in the north have been a sore spot in Tensha’s side for several dynasties, and tensions have risen to a fever pitch. Prince Terren’s power amplified can finally conquer our enemies, once and for all.”
War.It seemed so obvious in hindsight, but without having spent all this time in court, how could I have guessed? Lu’an had been nowhere close to the border, and everyone there had been far too preoccupied with survival to think of nebulous threats likewar.
Slowly, everything was fitting together. The books, Ciyi’s lessons, the conversations overheard at court. I was beginning to understand the truth.
And the truth was more horrible than I thought. Terren’s violence didn’t just end at court. It was going to affect the whole nation.
I was about to ask another question when a wail tore into the study, sharp and heartrending.
It had come from the back garden. I ran to the window to find Wren, sobbing as she stumbled into the cypress grove. By the light of the lanterns hanging from the eaves, I could see a figure slumped over her shoulders.
The scribe,I realized with horror.Tel Pima.Knife wounds bloomed across his back like poppies.
16MALICIOUS INTENT
I sent Ciyi to fetch a doctor and rushed out the back door. Wren had laid Pima down beneath the cypresses, between two old roots. His blood pooled dark on the nest of daisies beneath him. “What happened?” I demanded.
It was hard to understand Wren through her sobs, but eventually I pieced it together. Terren had been in a bad mood walking home from the Hall of Scholarly Cultivation. Something about an ally withdrawing support, to favor his brother in the West Palace. When he’d passed by Pima, who was on his way to deliver a message to me, he had taken it out on the scribe.
“Taken it out?” I bellowed. The scribe was almostdead.
