Figurehead

fifteen

Part of me suspects Dein is right; his people don't know he's there, don't recognise him. Nobody cared for us as we headed through the passages of Vrendust's city. But a part of me also knows that those who want him dead will notice him easily, they will be familiar with how he looks. I don't want to even hint at these things out loud.

We walk quickly, and in silence, our boots crunching through the snow.

Neither of us slept well. Beneath our eyes lie shadows. Except they don't show up as much on his dark skin as mine do on my tan. I couldn't sleep, knowing both the king and his appointed heir were in the other room, and that if both of them were killed by a soldier, the empire would fall into chaos. Who would take the crown?

We didn't speak much at first light. To each other or to those wishing us well on our return to Anshakim. I'm glad Anshakim and Vrendust are neighbouring provinces- Anshakim south of Vrendust- but the innermost province is the largest, too. I hope this silence will crack soon.

It breaks when I stop short and he almost walks into me. "What-?"

We stand in the middle of a narrow trail running through most of the fields on Vrendust's outskirts. "Look."

A single tree stands in the distance, slightly right of the path, stretching up to the clouds in the sky. Its golden-white branches are completely bare, but I have no doubt it's alive. It's alive. It is the only living plant here in the snow-covered, barren fields, and it is not a plant grown for food in any province. It's better than that.

"A Reildir tree," he murmurs, his presence warm at my back. I nod.

In the midst of this war-torn place, someone or Someone, really, has planted the tree symbolising the Escatin name, the Escatin empire. It is a symbol of hope, of nobility and honour, of strength and courage. And it's here, in what could be the middle of nothing.

"You didn't see it on your way here?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "We came through Ronseluf."

"Must have been the Lord who planted it," I murmur, glancing at him. He nods, a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

We continue forward, stopping at the tree to marvel at the intricate swirls of its bark before pressing on.

When the path widens and the tiniest hint of farmhouses appear on the horizon, we walk side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

"What was it like in Deritri?" he asks suddenly. "In the Avu empire?"

It's difficult to explain or describe. But I try. "The sky was cloudless and always shifting, and at night, the starlight is just amazing. But it's cold, really, really cold at night." I glance at him. He's watching me. "It's kind of like trying to swim when the water is turning to ice, except that was just the air and the wind. There was no snow."

"Is it desert in Deritri as well?" he asks, "Not just in the Eska region?"

I nod. "It's the same, so pretty much, yes."

He looks thoughtful. "Tui and Tri both said Yef was stabbed, but that the people weren't that bad." He presses his lips into a grim line. "It sounds pretty bad- he was stabbed. He's a trusted messenger, protected by decree."

I bite my lip. "Well, yeah. But not everyone was like that. Most of the conflict was verbal," I shrug. "Most of it wasn't that bad." I decide I'm not going to tell him about the bloodstains or the drunken yells at night. He doesn't need to know; after all, he won't be visiting Avu land. Ever. I hope. "I spent most of my time with the Escatin traders. They were nice people."