The Ghost Tiger's Lament

Chapter Twenty

“I should have known,” snarled Shranai, tossing her bow aside and picking up her staff in its stead. “You and that Zsaran. Both the same!”

Ashne must have known all along. Somewhere deep inside, she must have realized. Refused to accept. Surly as Shranai was and had always been, Ashne could not forget: those weeks of fever, not long after the queen took them in. And Shranai leaning above them, muttering harsh curses under her breath all the while, hands red and rough from toil, yet still gentle.

The years of nagging, the years of mocking and criticism. The brief, satisfied look of approval when they had returned from their first mission. But never...

Never this.

“Is it true?” Ashne said, thinking of the arrow. The kammrae sightings. Everything. Everything. “What he said. Was it really you who —”

“I don’t know what lies he fed you, girl. Or what deceits he employed to seduce that flighty fool. But no matter. It ends here!” The staff spun once, twice, aimed at Ashne’s head.

Ashne leaped back, only for the staff to thrust forward, knocking the sword from her hand.

“Why?” she pleaded, backing away yet further. Her fingers stung from the blow, unable to bend. “What happened? Why did you —”

Shranai’s gnarled face was cold and remorseless. “A traitor is owed nothing but death.”

Ashne ducked another blow, this time attempting to reach her sword.

“Zsaran would have never betrayed the queen!”

“Don’t waste my time with your excuses! The moment the Tiger appeared, I knew — I knew!”

“Knew what?”

“Where your true loyalties lay!”

“Our loyalties have always lain with the queen,” she protested, still dodging, no longer certain what she was saying, knowing only that it must be said.

“It takes one to summon the beast. One to summon, and one to welcome him in.”

One to summon — Kitzon. But one to welcome —

“She wouldn’t have. She would have never.”

“Then who do you propose did? Yourself, perhaps?” Shranai unleashed a bark of laughter. “No, no. Impossible. You are too slow, too dull to have pulled such a pretty trick, much less thought of it.”

“We swore an oath. The lady saved our lives. We owe a debt to her many times over.” A debt they had not yet repaid, even now. Would never be able to repay now in life.

But Shranai sneered. “Oaths can be broken. How little mere words amount to, when a handsome fellow comes a-singing! I have seen it all too often, with you young things!”

“You thought us incapable of duty? Of...” Ashne trailed off, knowing not what new protest had been waiting at the tip of her tongue, realizing that it was no use.

“More words! Do not waste your breath on me, girl. The treacherous little fool admitted it herself. ‘For love,’ she said. ‘I did it for love!’”

Anger, helpless and all-consuming. Then despair. Doubt, cruel and insidious, creeping into her heart. What if she was the one who had been lying to herself all this time? What if Zsaran, somewhere deep down inside, had never truly forgiven her?

She had disapproved of the mission from the start, while Ashne accepted it unblinking. She had tired of their service under the queen, while Ashne thought nothing of living the rest of her life unwavering in her loyalty.