the Army tile. “The walls of Nooria are the second pillar: a stone currency with which time itself can be purchased. And with time, aid will come from the four corners of the empire.” Arigu tapped each of his Army tiles in turn, spread out at random across the board. Behind the Fort, Arigu laid the Tower. “And the third: the mages cannot be turned from their service to the throne.”
“My tutor always taught me that the empire was indestructible.” Tuvaini
pursed his lips. What about the girl? “But I am not reassured.” He reached towards his Assassin tile to claim the victory.
Arigu waved Tuvaini’s hand away. “The empire is in no danger.” He laid a finger on his Emperor tile. “But there can be change.”
Arigu made the Push. His Emperor tile fell. The Emperor caught the Assassin, and the Assassin the Vizier. The cascade continued, splitting, dividing around the Spy stones, spreading out across the board with the soft, rapid click of tile felling tile. Patterns Tuvaini had neither seen nor imagined emerged, grew and died, and still the toppling continued. Tuvaini stared at the ruin before him. Fallen tiles covered every inch of the Settu board. Six tiles only remained standing, the same on each side: the
White Hat Army, the Fort and the Tower.
“A draw.” Arigu drained his goblet and stood to leave.
“Your plan is finished, Arigu.” Tuvaini couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.
“Not yet.” Arigu straightened his tunic and reached for his swordbelt.
“The girl comes.”
She lives? His men had failed, and Arigu stood there smiling. Knowing.
Tuvaini rose to his full height, fury guiding his words.
“To seed claimants to the Petal Throne among the grass tribes? You would grow a pet emperor with relatives who live on horseback.” He made a sharp gesture towards the board. “Men who can’t even play Settu.” “We can all learn new games, Tuvaini. If enough emperors die, the kingmakers will eventually come to your door. You even have Beyon’s look, though scraped a little thinner, it’s true.” Arigu tightened his belt, jiggled his sword in its scabbard and flashed a dark smile. “We can’t all stake our
hopes on ties to the royal bloodline, however tenuous. Some of us have less regal ancestry… or so the gossips say.”
“She will die.” Tuvaini spoke the words to Arigu’s back. It would happen.
He had the means and the will to make it happen.
Arigu paused at the door, looking every inch the general.
“I need an emperor who needs me, Tuvaini. I need an emperor who can see that we stand poised to take the world. I’ve seen it, Tuvaini. I’ve seen all the nations between the seas. There is nothing like Cerana.”
The general’s unexpected eloquence struck Tuvaini. He’d spoken the truth: the empire set its sights too low. More could be found over mountain and water. Gems to the north, spice to the south, wood to the east; they spread out before him, dates for plucking.
Tuvaini said, “Wait.”
Arigu turned, the door half-open, his face drawn in question. Tuvaini swept the tiles away, clearing the board. “We can talk about that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Mesema had heard nothing of Banreh. Perhaps he had already set off over the desert. Perhaps he sat in some other tent, scratching on his lambskin. Perhaps the emperor had killed him after all.
Sahree had not allowed her to get her own riding clothes from the trunk on top of the carriage. Instead she had, after much fussing, dressed her in thin silk pants and a long tunic. A wide blue scarf protected her head from the desert sun. “No padding?” Mesema asked Sahree, tapping her behind, but Sahree just shook her head and sighed.
She moved through the silk corridor once again, but this time it ended not with a tent flap but with open sand and a group of horses. Mesema’s heart lifted when she saw Tumble at last, waiting next to a tall steed; she hadn’t quite believed she would be allowed to ride. She clambered into the saddle with a yelp of joy and patted his mane. “You’re a good boy, you are, getting through all that heat and sand for me,” she said. From her elevated position she could see the entire camp: waggons were being loaded, tents struck, fires doused. Men in different colored uniforms—Arigu’s in white hats and the emperor’s in blue—hastened to their tasks. She didn’t see Banreh.
Everyone fell quiet, and she knew the emperor had arrived. He mounted the powerful horse on her right. He wore a rough tunic