The Grace of Kings (14 page)

But first, she should take the lead here.

“Let's just camp here for the night. We'll continue in the morning.”

Otho Krin looked at Jia. She was not much older than he. She never raised her voice, but the look in her eyes reminded him of his mother when she was ready to berate him. He hung his head and silently acquiesced.

Jia gathered some branches and leaves to make a bed for herself. When she saw Otho standing around helplessly, she gathered more branches and made a bed for him, too.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

The young man nodded.

“Come with me.”

Jia walked around with Otho tagging along behind her until she found some fresh droppings. She bent down and looked around until she found a patch of herbs next to the trail. She plucked the stalks and laid them out neatly. Then she took out a small bottle from her purse and sprinkled some powder over the herbs.

Holding a finger to her lips, she beckoned Otho to follow her. They backed away about fifty feet, ducked down in the shrubs, and waited.

A pair of hares hopped out onto the trail and suspiciously sniffed the pile of herbs Jia had left. But since nothing bad seemed to happen, after a while the hares calmed down and began to eat.

A few minutes later, the hares stuck up their ears, scented the air, and hopped away.

“Now we follow,” Jia whispered.

Otho hurried to keep up with Jia. He was amazed by how fast this lady, by reputation a sheltered daughter of a wealthy man, could move through the woods.

They came upon a stream in the woods, and the two hares were lying next to the water, twitching but unable to run away.

“Can you take care of killing them quickly and without too much pain? It's bad luck for me to kill things right now . . . in my condition.”

Otho nodded, not daring to ask what she was talking about. He picked up a large rock and smashed it down on the heads of the hares, killing them instantly.

“Now we have dinner,” Jia said brightly.

“But . . . but the . . .” Otho struggled and his face grew red.

“Yes?”

“. . . the poison?”

Jia laughed. “I didn't kill them with poison. The herb I picked was harenip, a sweet plant these creatures love to eat. The powder I put on it is my own creation, a mixture of natron ash and dried lemons. The mixture is harmless but gives off a lot of bubbles when it comes into contact with moisture, so the hares were very uncomfortable after eating for a while. They naturally tried to feel better by coming here to drink some water, but that only made things worse. They couldn't move because their bellies were so full of air that they couldn't breathe. The meat is perfectly safe to eat.”

“How did you learn such a trick?” Kuni Garu's wife seemed to Otho a witch or a magician.

“Read a lot of books and try a lot of recipes,” Jia said. “When you learn enough about the world, even a blade of grass can be a weapon.”

Jia was just about to fall asleep when she heard Otho's sobs.

“Are you going to cry all night?”

“Sorry.”

But the sniffles continued.

Jia sat up. “What's wrong?”

“I miss my mother.”

“Where is she?”

“My father died early, and she was all I had. When famine struck our village last year, she mixed extra water into her porridge so that I wouldn't suspect that she was saving most of the food for me. When she died, I didn't know what to do, which is why I turned to thieving. I got caught and was sentenced to hard labor, and now I've become an outlaw. My mother would be so ashamed.”

Jia felt sorry for the young man, but she did not believe in sentimentality or wallowing in sadness. “I don't think your mother would feel ashamed. She'd want you to survive because there's nothing she can do to help you now.”

“You really think so?”

Jia sighed inwardly. Her own parents had cut her off when they heard that Kuni had become a bandit, fearing the consequences once he was caught. But she was trying to cheer this young man up, not bring him down. “Of course. Parents always want their children to run as far as they can on their chosen path. If you've chosen to be a bandit, be the best bandit you can be, and your mother will be proud of you.”

Otho's face fell. “But I'm not a strong fighter. I'm not quick with figures. I can't even find my way back to camp. And . . . I had to rely on you to feed me!”

Jia wanted to laugh, but she also felt a wave of tenderness for the young man. “Look, we're all good at something. My husband must have seen something in you if he sent you to bring me to him.”

“Probably because I don't even look like a bandit,” Otho said. “And . . . one time I was part of a robbery that went bad, and everyone made fun of me because I wouldn't leave the dog behind.”

“What dog?”

“I fed it jerky to keep it quiet while we snuck into the caravan campsite. But then the merchants woke up, and as we retreated, I heard one of the merchants say he was going to kill the useless dog. I felt bad for it and carried it back with me.”

“You're loyal,” said Jia. “That's not nothing.”

She reached into her purse and brought out a small vial.

“Here, take this.” Her voice was gentle. “I made it because I had trouble sleeping the last few weeks when I didn't know what had happened to Kuni. We have to sleep so we can be ready for tomorrow. Hey, you might even see your mother in your dream!”

“Thank you,” Otho said, and accepted the vial. “You're nice.”

“Everything will seem better in the morning.” Jia smiled and turned away from him, soon falling asleep.

Otho sat by the fire and looked at Jia's sleeping figure long into the night, fingering the vial. He imagined that he could still feel the warmth of her hand on it.

Jia heard a faint voice calling
Mama, Mama
.

It must have been her child speaking to her through the womb. She smiled and patted her belly.

The sun had risen. A green-and-red parrot suddenly swooped in and landed next to her. It looked at her and cocked its head for a second before spreading its wings and rising skyward. Jia's gaze followed the bird. It flew into a giant rainbow that began in the clearing, riding its arch toward the other end.

Jia woke up.

“I heated some water for you,” Otho said, and he brought her a pot.

“Thank you,” Jia said.

He looks a lot better than he did last night,
Jia thought. There was a kind of shy happiness on his face and in his posture.
Probably remembering his sweetheart.

As Jia washed her face in the warm water and dried her face, she looked around the camp. Everything always did seem so much better in the morning.

She froze. The same enormous rainbow she dreamed of was hanging in the east. She knew they had to follow it.

Before long, she walked into Kuni's camp.

“Next time,” Jia said, “make sure your lackeys know how to get back to you before you send them off. It would have been easier to send a dog.”

But she gave Otho a gentle pat on the back of the hand to let him know she was joking. “We had a bit of an adventure,” she said, smiling. Otho laughed as his face turned red.

Kuni embraced Jia and buried his face in her red curls.
My Jia can always take care of herself
.

“Well, we are in a bit of a mess, aren't we?” Jia said. “Your father and brother are so angry that you've turned into an outlaw that they won't even let me into their houses; they think I'm responsible for turning you to your old, irresponsible ways—am I? And my parents want nothing to do with me, claiming that since I insisted on marry­ing you, I have to live with the consequences. Only your mother tried to help me by sending me money in secret, and she wouldn't stop crying when she visited—and that made me cry too.”

Kuni shook his head. “Yet they say blood is thicker than water! How can my father—”

“Being related to a rebel is a crime that can lead to the whole clan being punished, remember?”

“I haven't joined the rebels yet.”

Jia regarded him carefully. “You haven't? Then what are you planning to do with this mountain base? I hope you aren't picturing me staying here for years as your bandit-queen!”

“I haven't thought through the next steps,” Kuni admitted. “I just took the path that seemed open to me at the time. At least this way, I can keep you out of the hands of the Imperials.”

“I'm not complaining, you know, but you certainly could have chosen a better time to do something
interesting
.” Jia smiled and pulled Kuni's head down to whisper in his ear.

“Really?” Kuni said. He laughed and kissed Jia deeply. “Now that
is
good news.” He looked down at her belly. “You'll have to stay in camp and not go anywhere.”

“Right, I really need you to tell me what to do, just like you've done all these years.” Jia rolled her eyes, but she stroked his arm affectionately. “Did you like that courage herb I gave you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jia smiled mischievously. “Remember that pouch of calming herbs I gave you? I slipped in a plug for courage. You've always wanted to do the most interesting thing, right?”

Kuni thought back to that day on the trail up the mountain, and his strange behavior before the white python. “You have no idea how fortuitously things have worked out.”

Jia kissed him on the cheek. “What you see as luck, I see as being prepared.”

“So, if Otho was lost, how did you find me?”

She told Kuni about the dream of the rainbow. “It's a sign from the gods, surely.”

More prophecies,
Kuni thought.
Sometimes you can't plan things better
than the gods—whoever they are—plan for you.

The legend of Kuni Garu grew.

About a month later, two of Kuni's followers brought a burly man with his hands tied behind him into the camp.