"a-die" pronounced as ā diē --> ah dee eh
Lisib paced the foyer as if that would make time pass by faster. He drank the tea, a gift from his brother, and waited. His days had been quiet and peaceful now that he no longer had to wrangle with Koloda's reckless romps through the city.
The creaking steps in the room to his left, his brother's former room, were loud in the natural quiet. He drew up the papers he had written for his daughter, his nephew, and his brother, congratulating them with a great well done.
His brother's plan would come to bear fruits, even if he wasn't there to see it.
He heard the boy, no, the man; he would have to start calling him that, even in his mind, for his brother's son would soon be a father and would work in infrastructure. He would be taught the ins and outs of city planning. It was a big undertaking. Shaking his head at the thought that the child who used to run naked screaming would have his own child to raise and a fulfilling career.
The sky outside mellowed to a purpling orange and he walked around the exterior checking the camels. They became a bit rowdy when strangers visited. He didn't want them bringing too much noise over. The hooded glares from a distance, warning him to take care, crawled up his neck like centipedes.
His feet somehow led him to check on the flowers sent by the Mawaddah Clan. Those few plants outside their house were still the only things from home they could have without gathering suspicion.
His brother warned him to keep his distance from the ongoings of the El Mahdy, especially as the days dwindled closer to when they could strike at these bureaucratic weaknesses of the empire. But his brother didn't understand that the quieter the house, the less often he heard his wife's voice, her shifting around, or smelled her perfume.
The petals of the yellow chrysanthemum glowed under the horizon sun. It had taken him quite a few months to find the right dirt to mix in their ground, proper shade, and watering, but it all came to fruition in these three flowers.
"A-die," an unfamiliar voice said behind him.
He froze as his legs dug into the dirt, his hands still buried in the ground, checking the roots for damaged growth.
Lisib exhaled sharply, yet, he didn't turn around. He said, "Do you wish to join me?"
His voice was stilted and rough. He must've been in the house alone for more than a few days now. The figure crouched beside him then.
Out of from his peripheral, he saw the cloak covering her figure, but a sparkle of gold and bright silk showed through. Relief fell through his soul like a ringing bell.
She looked well.
"These were mother's favorite flowers."
"They were."
"It took me five years to learn how to raise them," she said quietly. "You?"
He brushed the back of his hand against his damp forehead and replied, "I was there when your mother learned how to grow them. It didn't take long."
"It wouldn't have taken so long if you were there with me, then," she added.
There was no bitterness or anger in her voice.
Only reflection.
"I have tea brewed--"
"I can't stay for long," she said.
Lisib pulled out every bit of courage from his body and faced her but Xia Ting's cloak shrouded her face. He wondered if she now looked more like her mother. An equally shrouded servant stood at her back, but he could see the outlines of his daughter's face through the shroud. It brought forth some fond memories.
She probably did.
He smiled and then nodded. "It's good to see you well."
"I feel the same," she said quietly and then paused. "I believe I should leave now."
As soon as she stood up, he said, "Wait, you didn't bring any flowers with you. I can--"
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
He pleaded with her, hoping his eyes were enough. Xia Ting sighed and then nodded. It took a few minutes for him to scoop around the roots of the three flowers. He returned to his house and the door swung open to the hulking bodies of the Crown Princess' mercenaries and her bored form sitting where he sat only moments earlier.
"A family friend?" she said, drawing a long smile across her lips. "Rude of you not to offer tea."
"A noble passing by. They knew our family grows rare flowers and wished for a few to take home," he replied as he gathered a few small pots. "They will be departing shortly."
Lawali barked a laugh. "I guess you both will have much in common."
The mercenaries allowed him to pass and return outside. When he reached the plants, his hands were steady as he slid them into each pot and every pot filled with the proper amounts of soil for maximum health.
His daughter's servant carried the pots and Xia Ting with a tilted backwards glance said, "It was good to see you."
Perhaps it was the sun's lowering in the sky or his eyes stained by the chrysanthemum flower's light but his daughter's smile was brighter than the sun.
Her kajawa lifted and she disappeared down into the city. With a sucked in breath, Lisib wandered back into his house sliding into the seat opposing Lawali and her mercenaries.
"I know little of the Mawaddah clan," he told them. "At most, I meet their apprentices at trading posts for trinkets and gifts but I'm not within the higher circles. You're better off asking your Second Crown Prince Consort than I."
Lawali huffed. "News gets around fast, doesn't it?"
"It was either my brother or Babatu," Lisib said as he sipped his now cold tea. "If you're here, you've chosen to go against my brother."
"Your brother lied to me," Lawali sighed. "Not that he hasn't before, but this time it put my sister in quite the spot. And now I have to intercede."
"Or, you could stay the Crown Princess and don't."
"So as to allow the Sarakhs and Mawaddah clan to continue as they please?" Lawali smiled. "I only give things away that I don't want. And anyone who makes me hold onto things I don't like, well, what's the difference between me and a servant then?"
"That is the question, isn't it?"
Lisib was reminded of the grand dreams his brother and he had. Ideas have been set up ever since they learned of the evil that people committed in the name of power. His father and grandfather had different ways to go about it. In the end, they were all the same.
There was only one way to remove the poisoned limb, stealing oxygen and killing everything in its wake.
Amputation.
"You're boring me, Lisib," she tsked. "All you have to do is tell me where the Athari are."
"I don't know."
"Oh, but you do, because you see here," Lawali said and then flicked up a dagger before stabbing through the thick of his left hand through the bone of his wrist.
A scream yanked out of his throat as his tea shattered to the ground and he clutched his bleeding hand with his free one.
Lawali continued, "Anyone could use the Athari's appearance to get my family killed. I can even think of a few schemes myself, to be fair. You add in the aqueducts and some rebels, well, I'm sure you understand the severity of my situation."
"I hope you and all you wretched monsters burn in hell," Lisib spat. "You kings, queens, empresses, and emperors are drains on the people! None of you should've lived past infancy!"
The Crown Princess stood up bemused as if his words weren't already, before everything else, considered treason and warranted execution.
She gestured for her mercenaries to leave and then closed the door behind them. The former relief he felt soured.
"No worries," she said while still smiling. "I was going to be brutal but quick, like the Ambassador, after you said your spiel. But I need the information, and just from how fast your words jumped into offense and not surrender, it makes me believe you know something. If it takes squeezing you like a ball of fruit until your pulp and liquids burst out to get only the tiniest lead, well, some things have to be done, don't they? That's what a revolutionary is all about, isn't it?"
"My brother had people around," Lisib swallowed. "Guards. Enough. Did you kill them?"
"I'm sorry to say, Lisib," she said and her smile widened. "Your brother isn't all-knowing. He borrowed most of your guards to protect the Crown Prince and Crown Princess Consort. But yes, the ones left behind are dead."
Lisib nodded slowly.
His brother had been correct.
If something had happened to his daughter on her arrival, he wouldn't have been able to go on either way.
"I would be disturbed by your smiling, but what can I say? I'm in a good mood," Lawali pulled a pouch out from her robe and unrolled a pile of sharp tools, knives, and needles of various sharpness, size, and curvature. "I like to start with the scalp first and the feet. Do you have a preference?"
Lisib gritted his teeth.
At the entrance, the rock and rumble of the broken aqueducts of the city surrounded them, they were outnumbered by an army of nearly three hundred attackers, pushing through. If they died here, these soldiers would be able to rush into the City of Hada. A third of their dynasty's nobility could die out overnight.
Nwaijaku swung out her blades, clashing against the Zhuong soldiers. The handful of soldiers Jata Niara sent with her wouldn't be enough. They had been able to hold off for the hours leading into the night, but exhaustion seeped into her bones. Dirt clung to their sandals, and a few more swipes at her armor remained before they would cut into skin.
She could hear what sounded like lightning as birds filled the skies, when warrior cries struck the air like thunder. Reinforcements arrived from behind the Zhuong soldiers, waving the markings of the El Mahdy clan on their armor with a pale figure sitting at the head, rushing in swinging.
Castillo Reviere?
As he slid into the battlefield, Nwaijaku didn't have the time to wonder if he would be a help or a hindrance.
As her shoulders brunt the force of a heavy swing, and her knees buckled, she could hear the bashing of bodies and bones as the El Mahdy army rushed closer but still too far away. A rush of air and a wild swing brushed passed her. She swore this was it. The end of her life would be here.
The crack of cartilage and the gurgling of blood as the soldier spat out blood, staining her armor and neck.
"Jata Niara said you would owe me a favor if I rushed over," said the familiar voice of her rival and younger sister, Omani, while laughing. "I considered it a bargain, especially with that face! Hah!"
Unlike Nwaijaku, with the slim musculature of her family name Nwokorie, her sister was shorter but bulkier and lacked some of the musculature in its place.
"What will mother do if we both die?" She retorted and angrily swung in the neck of another soldier, cleaving and sticking into bone. "You think this is a game!"
"I think mother will bear another alpha or remarry," Omani replied as she swung happily, using the balls of her palm to hold her weapon, an obsidian handle with a smooth metal but sharp edge, and speared the soldiers in the chest, wrenching the weapon out and striking another in the chest as if she were collecting fish. "She's not one to mourn loss for long. And she's still within her bearing years! I wouldn't worry."
Nwaijaku snorted.
She wasn't worried. What she worried about was what would happen to her inheritance of the Nwokorie if Omani were to die. The clans would never allow her to inherit two lands under one name. And then it would cause strife, if not outright war, between the three clans, as Nwokorie tried to lay claim to an inheritance she didn't share blood with.
It already gave her a headache.
But Omani slammed her thickly armored arm into any soldier who stood in her way. She winced at the pained screams and decided Omani was probably fine. Her sister's war cries continue to fill up the air.
As quickly as the battlefield swept up in energy and bloodied violence did it then slow down as the numbers of their opposition dwindled.
They would win this fight.
Castillo Reviere was the one who shouted, "Do you surrender?" to the few stragglers but those few merely threw their weapons and sped backward toward wherever they came from. She shook her head when he motioned to follow them.
"You don't need to inform? Or to capture one to find the head?"
"No," Nwaijaku said as she could see one of her birds circling her. She whistled a trilling, sharp tune and her bird floated down, dropping a missive in her hand. As she read the words, she sighed. "Jata Niara was told that one of the Crown Prince's people took it upon themselves to bolster their movements into areas connected to our borders, City of Hada's aqueduct would've given them control of the surrounding borders of the in-between lands."
Castillo laughed. "Ridiculous! Is that what he's going to use then? That he only wanted the territory closest to their border when there's an entire landmass and lake between us from here to there."
"I think," Nwaijaku said slowly. "That Lawali was right to intervene. I believe we fell into a trap. A widespread net that took us all down with it. She may have slowed the descent. It's only--"
"I don't understand," Castillo said and then gestured to the El Mahdy soldiers to move along as they spoke privately. He leaned in and lowered his voice, "We won the battle."
"This wasn't about the battle," Nwaijaku repeated. Her eyes lay over the Zhuong dead and the displaced citizens who either had traveled outward temporarily or were stuck at the port that could be seen from this distance. "The Zhuong Crown Prince found a reason to bring up old territory disputes and the old wounds of Carolingian infrastructure. I imagine his person was a weak link who needed to be dealt with, or someone equally as useless, and he found a way to make him useful. Now, with us rushing to ship out to fight the Carolingian, they attack us on our other end and make heavy, uncompromisable requests? A bit unnecessarily clever."
"The Crown Prince of Zhuong could just be that cruel," Castillo added. "It could've been a trusted advisor that could be easily replaced."
"Keep the El Mahdy soldiers here to block off and guard this aqueduct until we know what we're going to do next."
Castillo nodded, before shouting and joining the soldiers in the efforts of blocking off the entrance and exits.
There was no discussion of how big the El Mahdy army was or how they had become so trained when only recently the Empress allowed such free rein from the Matriarch of the El Mahdy, but that was an issue best solved by monarchs and not Nwaijaku.
Instead, her main concern was that the spy who leaked the information on the aqueducts had to be someone well-trusted in their inner circle. Akhutenan, his paramour, and most of his men were only given surface-level inform.
And it only took her a brief moment before her lips unfurled, "Enzo."