The Withering Sword

Chapter 9: Signs and Lies

DEMYS

Amrato-feg, capital city of Gyoto

“The empress awaits you in her study, Myag-myos,” said the servant.

“Thank you,” said Prince Demys, and stepped into his mother’s garden, moving quickly through the rows of flowers across the sun-warmed wooden pathways. Sweat gathered in the lines of his palms and he balanced his stack of papers a moment to wipe his hands off on his robe. It had less to do with the heat, which had abated somewhat in the last few days, than the prospect of finally seeing his mother face-to-face.

He knocked softly on the door to her study. A bird chirped in the garden behind him loudly, startling him and making him drop a few sheets of paper. He bent down to pick them up just as the door opened.

“I’m―I’m here to see my mother. I was told….”

The servant gazed down at him impassively. “Her Imperial Highness is waiting.”

Demys gathered all the papers and shuffled through the door into the study. His mother sat there, and his uncle Stavod as well. They looked so much alike, especially in that moment, both black-eyed and stern.

“Good day,” he said with an awkward little bow, and tried to sort quickly through his papers, which had lost their careful order when he dropped them.

“You requested to speak with us privately,” said the empress. “I assumed that meant you had something to say.”

“Yes. Just a moment.” He found the right paper and handed it to his mother. “I’ve been collecting testimonies from all over Gyoto for the past few weeks.”

The empress glanced over the paper, her eyebrows pulling together. “What is this?”

“It’s happening all over the countryside, Mother. Uncle. Villagers, farmers, travelling merchant caravans; even some minor nobles have reported losses caused by the mountain birds. They’re attacking people, livestock, buildings, and crops indiscriminately. This isn’t something we can ignore any longer. I have detailed reports here.” He fumbled a little trying to hand over the stack of papers to his uncle―his hands were shaking rather badly―but he managed to accomplish the maneuver.

Neither his uncle nor his mother spoke for a few minutes as they went over the reports. They didn’t read them in depth, but at least they weren’t reprimanding him for wasting their time. He was eternally grateful that he’d managed to secure a private audience with them instead of having to present his evidence before the whole council. That, he would never have managed.

“We’ve never had trouble from the mountain birds before,” said the empress at length. “Not anything the Marquise of Wagato-feg couldn’t handle. What do you think is causing this?”

“Well, I have several theories.” He cleared his throat to keep his voice from rasping. “It’s possible that they’ve had a marked increase in population for some reason―you’ll notice this year has been hotter than previous years, for instance, and maybe that benefited their food sources, which in turn resulted in…. Well,” he continued, noting he was in danger of losing his audience, “any number of natural occurrences could have driven them to leave the mountains. An increase in hunting, an avalanche in the mountains that destroyed their nesting spots… but none of that would account for how aggressive they’ve become, or how they don’t seem to give up even after hunting parties have gone after them. You’ll see in one of the reports that two birds grabbed hold of a young man and… well, hurt him quite badly.”

“They tore him in half,” said his uncle.

“Well, yes,” said Demys.

“What do you think is the cause, then?” asked his mother sharply.