Unveiling the Sorceress

Chapter Twelve

Elishiba felt raw, as if Amshazar's death had stripped and bared her for the world to see. A night and a day had passed and still she felt as if her heart was being wrenched from her chest. She tossed and turned on her mattress, refusing Yoshi's healing draughts, choosing instead to stay awake and run over what had happened in her mind, trying to see the way she might have saved him by using the jinneyah in a different way, but she had to face the truth. She knew deep down he had prepared her for this.

He'd told her what had to be done with the final wish, no matter what. But it hurt so much she couldn't find solace in that simple truth. She thought of her dream, how she couldn't reach him. Was this why? Grief brought denial. She had been awoken from that dream. If she hadn't, she would have reached him. He would always be a part of her.

All that had happened in the temple the day before had cast aside the need for decorum and subterfuge, and despite her pain Elishiba felt an almost brittle clarity of mind with regard to their situation. She had her duty to her people to fulfill. That was all that mattered to her now. As far as she was concerned, the barriers had been removed. Now she could speak with Hanrah in plain terms, as she had always wanted. She had to address the subject of a mutual peace treaty, something that had never been broached before. If she didn't, there was no way to know which way Hanrah would proceed with his time of rule.

At first she and her closest companions were concerned that Hanrah was going to refuse her request for a private audience, and that she would have to force him to receive her. They waited a whole night and day, and then Yoshi brought her the message he would meet with her. What did he feel now, she wondered. Was he angry? Would this tragedy turn him into his mother's son?

When she was finally ushered into his chamber, she saw a broken man before her, and recognized the mirrored reflection of her own state of being. She had lost her handmaiden, and her lover. He had lost his mother, and his lover.

A chair had been set up some eight-arm's length away from the emperor. Elishiba ignored it and instead picked up a small footstool, which she carried over to where he was seated and set it down at his feet. He looked with curiosity at her, but didn't seem surprised. Perhaps he would have no cause for pretence now either. Perhaps he too was far too raw to muster it.

She sat down by his feet, her hands resting on her knees as she looked up at him. He was dressed in the same clothing as the morning before, she noticed. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and obvious grief in his expression. The slight man she had first thought the court jester had no such look about him now.

They sat that way for some time while she contemplated him. Beneath the pain she saw a gentle man, a man who waited to be told—and to be led. It was no wonder his mother was so afraid that someone other than she would influence him. And yet in being so harsh with him, she had ultimately forced him to break free of her will.

"We have both suffered immense loss, Emperor Hanrah."

He stared at her, and then nodded.

"When I came here, I had hoped to negotiate peace between our countries, without casualty for any of our people. This is something I think we can still achieve."

He eyed her warily, as if surprised by her remark. “I thought you would be angry,” he said, “I thought your warriors would take revenge upon us."

She shook her head. “The losses we have suffered have only proved to me that I don't want the same to happen to more of our people."

He seemed to contemplate what she said, and then he wrung his hands together quickly, suddenly fidgety, as if the idea disturbed him out of his state of grief. “It would only

get worse, this awful pain inside.” He put one hand to his chest, his eyelids lowering.

She reached for his free hand, taking it tentatively, offering him solace. His fingers clasped hers loosely and after a moment he returned the gentle squeeze she offered. He met her glance and gave her a sad smile, as if he too recognized how similarly they mirrored each other in their situation. It wasn't something she had imagined, when she set out on this journey, to be sitting at the emperor's feet comforting him as they negotiated their way forward. Because of their mutual loss they were both bared to the soul, layers of false platitude and confused vision torn away. She briefly contemplated using healing sorcery upon him, but she doubted her own resources at that time, after all that had happened the day before. She felt too that it was important for them to meet as simple equals, and resisted the urge.

"All we have ever needed is for our countries and our people to have security, to negotiate for trade and for trust. As leaders we can harbor those qualities without war."

"But how?” he asked, reaching for a tray that had been set out nearby, offering her a small cup as he spoke. “The history between our lands, all that has gone before ... this bad feeling surely permeates all of our people?"

Elishiba took a deep breath. It was time to make her move, to be decisive and guide him. “We must lead them. We must enter into a peace treaty. If we operate on fair terms, it opens immense possibilities for us to be strong neighbors, protecting our people together, rather than dividing and halving their strength."

He stared into his tea thoughtfully, turning the small brass cup before sipping from it and sighing.

"I try to feel in my heart for the best way forward, and to feel what my closest friends would have thought, too.” He reached for her and lifted her hand. “You loved Amshazar?"

The sound of his name opened the gaping maw in her chest. “Yes, I did.” It was all the response she could muster, but he looked deep into her eyes and nodded, as if he had seen the answer there.

"He was a good friend to me,” Hanrah continued. “A trusty adviser. He has been taken from us both."

Yes, she saw that now, he had lost even more than she had. “He will live on in our hearts."

Hesighed,andshefeltresistanceinhim."Howhaveourancestors dealt with this, with this pain, after the loss of life in battle?"

Hope bloomed inside her. He wanted to move on; he wanted to change, to be different to them. She grasped hold of that hope, for both of them, for all of them.

"Some people thrive on war, but neither of us feel that way, so perhaps we can change things.” He wanted to believe her; she could see that, so she continued. “We can have your scribes prepare a peace treaty. Then I can return home to my people with the channel between us open and friendly. Our people can trade and live without fear of each other. If our countries are attacked from enemies beyond, we will unite as one to face them."

"Unite as one,” he repeated, his eyes brightening.

Elishiba felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. “It will be a new chapter in our history."