followed by his guards.

When he was younger,

they had called him red-handed in war,

but what he’d done then would be as nothing

to what he would do to Tahj

if Xau were dead.

A messenger ran up.

“Queen Hana’s come, Xau’s queen.

She asked to see you.”

“Where is she?”

“In the stables.”

∗

In the stables, Hana:

tall, assured, full-breasted,

her black hair beaded, braided

in the style of the horse lords,

a bow on her back, knife at her belt.

“I’m King Donal. Why have you come?”

“To greet Xau, if he returns.

To avenge him, if he does not.”

Donal looked her over a second time.

From the little Xau had told him,

he knew that she could use that bow.

But even if she was the best fucking archer

in Meqing, she couldn’t go to war.

“You’re more use back at the palace

having supper with ambassadors.”

“Maybe if I knew what to say to them.

I don’t. Let me go with you. Please.”

She didn’t look as if please

was a word she often used.

“A woman would be a distraction—”

“I’d hardly be the only woman with the army!”

“But the whores don’t ride into battle.”

She lifted her chin at that. Glared.

“Then let me sit in a tent

and mend your bows.”

Many reasons to refuse—

that she didn’t know what war was like,

that Xau wanted her safe,

that she might die,

that her presence might lead to others dying.

Which last reason was unanswerable.

“No,” said Donal.

“You can stay here if you choose.

I won’t order you back to the palace.

But you cannot ride to war.”

Defeat in her eyes,

yet still she held her head up

and looked at him levelly.

“When do you set out?”

“If there’s no news,

two days from now.”

“Let me help until then.

I can work with your bowyers.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” Hana bowed

so deeply her beaded braids

brushed the floor.

Donal bowed back,

tasked Fergus, chief of his guards,

with taking Hana to the bowyers,

left to talk to his generals.

Many reasons Xau might have been delayed.

Many.

THE BORDER

Prince Cyrus rode into cloud,

King Xau riding on his right,

the high air hinting at snow.

“Not much further,” said Cyrus,

echoed by the translator.

“My scouts said your army

crossed the border into Sumbral,

and we’re near the border now,

only a few miles from the top

of the mountain pass.”

King Xau nodded.

“Another month or two,” said Cyrus,

“and there’ll be snow up here.

I came once in late autumn,

a few years back. On foot.

Properly equipped.

With two men who knew

the mountains.

Still almost got stranded.”

Xau nodded, but said nothing.

“You’ll be glad to be back,”

said Cyrus. “Sleep under a roof,

good food, clean clothes.

By the third day of a trip,

I’d pay well for hot water

to soak my feet, pay more

for a mattress, fresh sheets.”