“Here there is no one to watch over us. We can talk in peace.”
Yorda had stepped down from the ledge onto the rails where she could take shelter from the wind. Ozuma walked around the platform, looking with amazement at the many interwoven towers of the castle, the strips of sea visible between them, and the blue sky stretching overhead.
“The view from here is incredible.”
“Yes, but be careful. The drop at the edge of the platform and the rails is quite steep-like a sheer cliff. One misstep and you could well lose your life.”
It was necessary to walk through the castle proper to come here, so though this was a safe place to talk, getting here unnoticed would be next to impossible. Ozuma had said that she need only instruct him which way to go and he would take care of the rest.
She had agreed, and he had taken her under his cloak. Yorda was not quite small enough to fit entirely beneath it, and she thought they would be discovered for sure, but Ozuma assured her it would not be a problem, and curiously enough, they were able to walk directly through the castle without being noticed-even when they passed by others close in the hall.
Perhaps in his training Ozuma had learned how to hide himself in plain sight. That would explain how he was able to make his way past the royal guards and castle patrol to the Tower of Winds, and how he had disappeared so suddenly when they parted the day before.
Or maybe, Yorda thought, it is a kind of magic. If he truly is the descendant of one blessed by Sol Raveh, he might very well have power befitting a deity. Maybe even power enough to resist a child of the Dark God, the queen herself.
Hope stirred in Yorda’s breast. Yet at the same time, she felt a deep guilt. The queen was her mother. She was not sure that even the Creator, the Sun God who was father to all upon the earth, had forgiveness for children who betrayed their parents.
Ozuma approached and knelt before Yorda, who was sitting on the edge of the trolley.
“I know the secret of the tournament troubles you, Princess, yet you should know that in the outside world, there are already those who know the truth.”
Yorda gripped the edge of the trolley tightly. “On this continent? In other lands?”
“Indeed,” the knight replied. “Though it may be hard for you to believe, beyond this realm there are many who fear this castle and the power of the queen. In past battles, they have seen her terrifying strength.
“Yet the tournament has long been the only window connecting this land with its neighbors. There are some, like myself, who participate in order to gain information about this land, and others who participate to become a henchman of the queen with all the power that entails. There are many different people in this world, all with different ways of thinking. There are even those who would join your mother precisely because she is so feared.”
Yorda thought she could understand that. If it were true that the queen held enough power to destroy not only this continent but the entire world, it was better to be on her side than any other.
And yet it was foolish to imagine one could join her. The queen had no need of anyone else, nor had she any intention of sharing her throne. The only one with whom she joined hands was the Dark God.
“Yet over the many tournaments, the victors have, without exception, vanished. We never hear of their glorious achievements in battle, their rise to power after their victory. No one has seen them on the battlefields, leading the charge.”
Yorda slumped, putting a hand to her head as though she could push out her memories of the gallery of statues beneath the graveyard.
“There are those-people who want peace in this world under Sol Raveh’s benevolent eyes-who would like to know what became of them. To learn what is going on within the queen’s domain and what will happen next. Not from idle curiosity, but from a sense of dire urgency.”
Yorda looked up. “And you are one of these people?”
Ozuma’s eyes flickered to her face for a moment. “It is as you say,” he replied. “Princess Yorda, are you aware of the large country, the Holy Zagrenda-Sol Empire, that stretches from far to the east down to the south?”
She had learned of all their neighboring lands in Master Suhal’s lectures. “Yes, but I had never heard it called holy before.”
Ozuma smiled faintly. “Its name was changed only three years ago. The founding royal family of the empire consider themselves descendants of Sol Raveh and bear his sign as their family crest.”
“Not just priests of Sol Raveh, but actual ancestors?”
“Indeed.”
A few days ago, Yorda would have laughed, but now that she knew that her mother was the child of the Dark God, it did not seem quite so preposterous.
“Princess, all men worship the gods and seek connections to them in any number of ways. Royal families and imperial houses desire a close connection to the divine all the more. Creating legends and stories to spread the word of one’s own divine heritage is merely another strategy a ruler may employ. What is important is that the people believe, and they are able to display sufficient strength to keep the peace within their domain.”
In these respects, Ozuma told her, the Zagrenda-Sol Empire had been successful.
“Not only do they command a powerful army, but they have developed their lands well to make the country rich. They support merchants in their business and scholars in their endeavors. It is a place not only of material wealth, but spiritual wealth. I do not claim it is a paradise on earth, where all things proceed according to some divine plan. Zagrenda-Sol has her difficulties, as any country does-many, in fact. But these are ultimately inconsequential. No one expects us to be able to create a heavenly paradise during our lives on this earth, and a ruler would be foolish to promise such.”
“And yet they call themselves a holy empire?”
Ozuma nodded. “The cathedral of Zagrenda-Sol is impressive indeed. It was constructed over a century ago, yet it boasts a tower high enough to catch the light of the morning star, and the bell tower is wide enough to house an entire village. It takes one hundred strongmen just to sound the vesper bells.”
Three years earlier, the knight explained, the fifth emperor of Zagrenda-Sol took his throne at the young age of twenty-five. As dictated by law, his coronation took place in the cathedral, and there, the young emperor had received a revelation.
“In the revelation, the emperor learned that a herald of darkness had appeared upon the land, and that he, as the descendant of Sol Raveh, was to take a great sword of the purest light to destroy it. It was, in essence, a declaration of holy war. After changing the name of his country to the Holy Zagrenda-Sol Empire, he appointed the great cathedral as his headquarters for the coming war. He then created the position of priest-king in the cathedral and declared himself the first. Nothing of the kind had ever happened before in the long history of the empire.”
While an emperor has the power to assemble and command an army within his own realm, a priest-king is a servant of the Sun God, the knight said, with the authority to assemble a great army from believers in all lands. In theory, the priest-king could call on anyone living where the Sun God is worshipped.
“After this declaration, the emperor sent out messengers across the continent, putting out a call to arms. I am sure one came here for your mother as well.”
“My mother? Is she not feared by the people beyond our borders?”
“Of course. Even in the Holy Zagrenda-Sol Empire, they had concerns about the queen’s power. No one knew that she, and the power she wielded, was the very herald of darkness foretold in the emperor’s revelation. But as a matter of precaution they sent a messenger to ask her assistance in the coming battle. It was a test.”