Free The Lord of the Sands of Time by Jim Hubbert Page B

oath to Yamatai; their prowess and loyalty had earned them a place in Takahikoné’s bodyguard. Appointing Takahaya to lead the troops meant Lord Ikima had no thought of giving real authority to the Messenger, much less Miyo. With both of them away from the palace, Takahikoné would have a free hand, as the Messenger himself pointed out.
    Nonetheless, Miyo accepted his proposal. Five days later, a force of five thousand warriors assembled. After rituals to ensure their success, they set off. Miyo and the Messenger rode in separate palanquins. Iga, their destination, lay 250 ri northeast of Makimuku. The march would take three days.
    Sure enough, Miyo’s palanquin was in the middle of the column while the Messenger’s litter was at the head. They were not allowed to be together despite Takahikoné’s suggestion that she assist him. Not only that, no runner was permitted to come and go between their palanquins. But the Messenger had given Miyo a magatama bead that allowed her to communicate with him over the two ri of the column separating them.
    “What do you think Takahikoné is up to?” said the Messenger.
    “When the ruler is absent, the minister who is left behind dreams of taking the throne. Such has been the way of the world since the beginning. But Takahikoné would not do that. Not yet. It would hardly please the other chieftains. While he strengthens his position, he probably hopes we will meet with some unexpected accident.”
    “That sounds rather unpleasant.”
    Miyo stirred restlessly inside the tiny palanquin draped with a wickerwork screen to shield her from prying eyes. A merry, masculine laugh sounded from the magatama . “Never fear. Kan will protect us. That boy shows promise.”
    Kan was strolling along behind the slaves carrying Miyo’s litter, a fearsome short sword—bestowed on him by the Messenger—tucked into the folds of his tunic. Miyo, her spirits raised, spoke into the bead. “Keep your wits about you. Those Hayato from Kumaso are deft enough to pluck out your very liver without you being the wiser.”
    “No one’s getting my liver,” answered the Messenger coolly. “Tell me about the enemy. As far as I know, this clash with Kunu was supposed to take place sometime later. Are there frequent battles between Yamatai and Kunu?”
    “Of course not. And since I became queen, not once. Kunu knows its place. I must confess I have no idea why they attack us now. I always thought Kukochihiko was a reasonable man. Messenger O, don’t you know why this is happening?”
    “We don’t know the motivation. But a large mass of people, some bearing arms, are pressing toward Iga from the east.” This was the sword speaking. Miyo was slowly becoming accustomed to the Messenger’s miracles; now she felt the urge to learn something basic.
    “A question, sword.”
    “Cutty, if you please,” answered the sword.
    “Where are you, Cutty?”
    “Where am I? I am everywhere.”
    “Don’t be sly. You cast your voice from a distance with the same magic as this bead, do you not?” said Miyo.
    “Very good,” replied the sword. Miyo heard the Messenger choking back a laugh. The sword was silent a moment, then: “Yes. My body is in a certain location. From there, I control eyes and ears all over the world. But don’t tell anyone. This is important strategic information.”
    “Are you the Messenger’s wife?” asked Miyo.
    “Excuse me?” Again the Messenger’s laughter spilled from the magatama . The sword’s voice was disapproving. “The answer is no. The Messenger does not marry. No, you do not understand the feelings of AIs like us. Romance arises when there is something about an individual that another cannot understand.”
    “You needn’t become so upset about it,” said Miyo.
    “I am not upset!”
    “Queen Himiko! Miyo!” The Messenger sounded as if he’d laugh himself sick. “No human has ever cornered Cutty like that,” he said finally.
    The sword cut in, “This is no time