what. I’m headed to de castle. Why don’t you come with me? You can learn about Mizuchi dere.”
Hana smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
They walked up the sandy trail together. With each step, the castle’s proportions came more and more into focus. Hana had thought it looked huge from the shore, but as they neared it, she realized she had underestimated it. It wasn’t as large as Hiabi, but it dwarfed the former Haldessa Castle.
“Who rules that place?” she asked.
Faro smiled. “Dat’s de home of Awakimundi’s chief, Iokua.”
Hana looked over her shoulder at the distant beach. The huts along it were almost invisible now. “It’s hard to believe he could command such a place,” she said. “There’s such disparity of wealth here. You’d think the people would overthrow him.”
She turned back around to find Faro staring at her. “You say fancy stuff for a farm girl,” he said.
Hana swore inside her head. She was supposed to be playing the ignorant sheepherder. “I guess it’s the civil war,” she improvised. “I can’t get away with only thinking about whether my sheep are fed anymore. I don’t want to have traveled all this way just to get caught up in another war.”
Faro’s solid black eyes bored into her another moment. Then he laughed, reached out, and touched her on the shoulder. “No worries, ya? You’re not in Lodia anymore. What happened dere can’t happen here.”
“Why? Because Iokua has a big army?”
“No, because he rules at de will of de people. A chief who doesn’t share isn’t chief long.” He pointed at the fortress ahead of them. “See dat castle? Iokua lives in it, but he doesn’t own it. De people of Awakimundi own it. When de storms come, dat’s where dey go. Everyone on de island takes shelter dere.”
“The storms?”
Faro nodded. “Dey come every year, always from de southwest. Not every island gets hit every year, but it’s hard to go ten without one hittin’ you. When dey come, most homes on de beach get destroyed. If people stayed in dem, dey’d die. So dey go to de castle. Every island in Tacumsah has one. De bigger de island, de bigger de castle.”
Hana examined the castle more closely. Its teardrop shape no longer seemed random. It was deliberate. If the winds came from the southwest, they would flow around the oddly shaped structure. It could withstand nature’s wrath, even when the rest of the island was being torn apart.
She was more surprised by Faro’s description of Chief Iokua. He voluntarily opened his home to all the people of his island, even the lowest of the low. No Maantec would do that. Lowborn Maantecs would sully everything. They had to be held in check through power, through magic. Highborn Maantecs and Dragon Knights could wield magic the lower classes couldn’t hope to conjure. That kept the people in their place.
Here, though, the leader was one of the people. It made no sense.
But then, Faro must be a low-class citizen, judging by his outfit and miniscule pack. He wouldn’t fit in at a Maantec fortress, but here he didn’t seem out of place at all.
The pair arrived at the castle entrance. Hana expected a heavy gate with guards, but instead they came to a wide arch with a cascade of orchids adorning either side.
Hana and Faro crossed the threshold without anyone questioning them. Hana swiveled her head in search of soldiers, but she couldn’t spot anyone armed. It was unheard of. No city was so well protected that it had no need of guards.
Faro seemed to guess her thoughts. “No one would dream of attacking a Tacumsahen castle. Dey’re too important to people’s survival. To come here with intent to destroy is de worst crime a man can commit. It’s a crime against everyone on Awakimundi.”
Hana worked hard not to look at her feet, at the Enryokiri buried just beneath them. If the Water Dragon Knight was in one of these island castles, odds were the fortress wouldn’t survive their battle.
“Follow
Hana smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
They walked up the sandy trail together. With each step, the castle’s proportions came more and more into focus. Hana had thought it looked huge from the shore, but as they neared it, she realized she had underestimated it. It wasn’t as large as Hiabi, but it dwarfed the former Haldessa Castle.
“Who rules that place?” she asked.
Faro smiled. “Dat’s de home of Awakimundi’s chief, Iokua.”
Hana looked over her shoulder at the distant beach. The huts along it were almost invisible now. “It’s hard to believe he could command such a place,” she said. “There’s such disparity of wealth here. You’d think the people would overthrow him.”
She turned back around to find Faro staring at her. “You say fancy stuff for a farm girl,” he said.
Hana swore inside her head. She was supposed to be playing the ignorant sheepherder. “I guess it’s the civil war,” she improvised. “I can’t get away with only thinking about whether my sheep are fed anymore. I don’t want to have traveled all this way just to get caught up in another war.”
Faro’s solid black eyes bored into her another moment. Then he laughed, reached out, and touched her on the shoulder. “No worries, ya? You’re not in Lodia anymore. What happened dere can’t happen here.”
“Why? Because Iokua has a big army?”
“No, because he rules at de will of de people. A chief who doesn’t share isn’t chief long.” He pointed at the fortress ahead of them. “See dat castle? Iokua lives in it, but he doesn’t own it. De people of Awakimundi own it. When de storms come, dat’s where dey go. Everyone on de island takes shelter dere.”
“The storms?”
Faro nodded. “Dey come every year, always from de southwest. Not every island gets hit every year, but it’s hard to go ten without one hittin’ you. When dey come, most homes on de beach get destroyed. If people stayed in dem, dey’d die. So dey go to de castle. Every island in Tacumsah has one. De bigger de island, de bigger de castle.”
Hana examined the castle more closely. Its teardrop shape no longer seemed random. It was deliberate. If the winds came from the southwest, they would flow around the oddly shaped structure. It could withstand nature’s wrath, even when the rest of the island was being torn apart.
She was more surprised by Faro’s description of Chief Iokua. He voluntarily opened his home to all the people of his island, even the lowest of the low. No Maantec would do that. Lowborn Maantecs would sully everything. They had to be held in check through power, through magic. Highborn Maantecs and Dragon Knights could wield magic the lower classes couldn’t hope to conjure. That kept the people in their place.
Here, though, the leader was one of the people. It made no sense.
But then, Faro must be a low-class citizen, judging by his outfit and miniscule pack. He wouldn’t fit in at a Maantec fortress, but here he didn’t seem out of place at all.
The pair arrived at the castle entrance. Hana expected a heavy gate with guards, but instead they came to a wide arch with a cascade of orchids adorning either side.
Hana and Faro crossed the threshold without anyone questioning them. Hana swiveled her head in search of soldiers, but she couldn’t spot anyone armed. It was unheard of. No city was so well protected that it had no need of guards.
Faro seemed to guess her thoughts. “No one would dream of attacking a Tacumsahen castle. Dey’re too important to people’s survival. To come here with intent to destroy is de worst crime a man can commit. It’s a crime against everyone on Awakimundi.”
Hana worked hard not to look at her feet, at the Enryokiri buried just beneath them. If the Water Dragon Knight was in one of these island castles, odds were the fortress wouldn’t survive their battle.
“Follow
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