Don't Kill Him
"A brazen notice that he intends to visit the Caliph? Is that bastard's head completely empty?"
The news that arrived at the crack of dawn had Sabrina, Baden, and Sirka furious to the very crowns of their heads. How many years had it been since the Caliph and the Mariner last had any dealings at all? And now, of all times, that so-called eldest son had the gall to announce—without a shred of courtesy—that he would be paying them a visit whenever he pleased? Was he begging to be torn apart?
"How shall we kill him, Sabrina?"
Baden flung the request for a visit that Darius Mariner had sent onto the floor and ground it beneath his heel. He had not the slightest intention of letting the man leave alive.
"Inviting every predator on bad terms with the hyenas doesn't seem like a bad idea."
"That's a fine thought. Shall we call in the old man from my family? He didn't so much as show his face at the last banquet even after we sent an invitation, which still irritates me, but still."
Sabrina muttered it under her breath. She meant the current head of her birth clan, the Frost—her own father. He had not shown so much as the tip of his nose at the gathering held to introduce Bariya, and Sabrina had flown into a rage, swearing she would not let the old goat off lightly. In all likelihood the head of the Frost had stayed away only because he did not know the guest of honor was his benefactor.
"If Father were to come, Darius Mariner would be a dead man that very day."
The Caliph were not the only ones burning for revenge against the Mariner. The Frost had lost a precious grandchild just the same, and if their fury ran any differently from the Caliph's, it ran hotter—never cooler.
"Let's summon every tiger and throw a festival of blood."
"We'll have to narrow the guest list. There are a great many who despise those hyena curs."
Sabrina and Baden put their heads together, weighing whom they ought to invite if Darius's wretched end was to spread far and wide.
"The fact that he's coming the moment we introduced the little one as our guest of honor means that man has some connection to her, doesn't it?"
Sirka, a touch more rational than the two tigers, murmured the thought aloud.
"It must. Then we'll have to bring the little one out as well. If a festival of blood breaks out, she might clap her hands with delight."
Bariya had watched, clear-eyed, while Sabrina and Sirka tore the hyena raiders apart. She would surely enjoy the sight, and then some.
"I agree with that much. Even so, I think we ought to reconsider inviting outsiders."
"Why?"
"And why is that?"
"Who knows what that man might say about the little one. We ourselves don't truly know what she's been through. We can't let strangers hear it."
At Sirka's calm explanation, Sabrina and Baden recovered their reason. They had grown far too heated at the news that a direct blood of the Mariner—who never, ever appeared before the Caliph alone—was coming.
"You're right. Tch. If it concerns the little one, we'll have to hear what nonsense he spouts, at least. The moment he talks rubbish, though, he dies."
"Don't let him into the estate. Make him stand outside. I will not abide the sight of that cur strutting through a Caliph household."
"Good."
"That suits me as well."
At Baden's thoroughly satisfying proposal, both Sabrina and Sirka nodded.
"And here I was, wondering who kept sending those raiders. So it was the Mariner's eldest son."
Sirka let out a sigh.
"A fool whose greed pierces the heavens, was he? No wonder he sent such inadequate men."
Sabrina clicked her tongue. Velodic Mariner, the current head of the Mariner, had six children in all. Among them the eldest son, Darius Mariner, was famous as the greediest. Born first, and yet denied the succession because he was a man rather than a woman—perhaps that was his Achilles' heel, for in greed, at least, he surpassed every one of his siblings. Not that he could compare to Velodic Mariner herself.
"What does a half-witted eldest son who isn't even the heir mean to accomplish, coming here alone? Has it not crossed his mind that he'll die at our hands?"
Sabrina's nails lengthened. She wanted to tear Darius to shreds right then and there, though even that could never repay the suffering her son had endured.
"It may mean the little one matters enough that he's willing to stake his life, Mother. Now that even the poisoning has failed, he likely has no move left."
"Then let us hear what the little one thinks."
At Baden's words, Sabrina's face twisted.
"Talk to her about that cur? Is there any need? We aren't letting him into the estate. If we say nothing, the little one will never know."
"But this concerns her. If she were much younger, I would have kept it from her too—but the little one is clever. Clever enough to look after herself."
Ten was still a young age, and yet the Bariya Baden had seen could not be dismissed as merely ten years old. The child was remarkably intelligent. She was rational, and she knew how to reach the right judgment, just as she had boldly demanded a contract of the Caliph.
"And to be honest, I don't want to deceive her for no good reason. So we'll ask her first, and if she says she can't stand the sight of him, we'll kill him in secret."
"Tch. Fine."
"Then I'll ask her as soon as she wakes."
Sirka was the first to take her leave. Sabrina clenched her fist, irritation written all over her.
"She'd opened her heart to us so much that I thought we might all be happy together at last. How does he come sniffing us out like a ghost?"
Yesterday's picnic had been more enjoyable than she had expected. Spreading a mat beside the glittering lake and playing there was the first time she had done so since Rabin's death. The knowledge that, so long as she had Bariya's help, no one would be hurt even if the Madness took her again had set her heart at ease, and so Sabrina herself had been able to enjoy the outing. Ever since her son died, she had always whipped herself with the belief that she had no right to joy and no right to happiness. Bariya had eased that heart of hers.
"The little one is like an angel Rabin sent us from heaven."
"Sabrina."
"Of course, thinking of her that way is a discourtesy both to the little one and to Rabin. Even so..."
Bariya was Bariya, and Rabin was Rabin. But whenever she was with Bariya her heart grew easy, and so the thought kept returning to her all the same.
"So I won't forgive anyone who torments the little one. Not anyone."
She had spared Sirka. She had saved Sabrina. To Sabrina, Bariya was now no different from another member of the family, and she would protect her. No matter what.
"Darius...?"
The moment she opened her eyes, the news Sirka brought made Bariya's face screw up tight. Ugh. What a filthy way to start the morning.
"So you do know Darius Mariner."
"I know him well."
Far too well. That was the trouble.
"We have no intention of letting that man into the estate. A mere hyena, daring to set foot here?"
At Sirka's words, Bariya nodded hard. That bastard's stench, clinging to this peaceful, gentle house. The mere thought made her skin crawl.
"To be honest, we'd rather you didn't meet him at all, little one. What good is there in looking at a face that turns your stomach?"
Sirka said it in earnest. She was softening her words because Bariya was there; otherwise she would have disparaged him far more viciously.
"We'll handle it ourselves, so couldn't you just wait here at the estate?"
Sirka put on her most pitiful face and pleaded. In the Mariner household, even the hired help had done nothing but give orders to Bariya and her mother. Here among the Caliph, everyone asked what she wanted, and they asked it as a favor. She liked that, and so, as a rule, she did not refuse them. They had never asked anything excessive of her, either.
"All right."
And so this time, too, she nodded. Sirka's face brightened at once.
"Good thinking. I'll tell the head chef to prepare heaps of the desserts you like, so just play in your room. We'll take care of it properly and come back."
"You can't kill him."
Sirka, who had been beaming, crumpled at the words that followed. So they really had meant to kill him. By now Bariya could read the hearts of the Caliph without having to ask.
"Don't kill him. You mustn't kill him."
Because I'll do it with my own hands.
She understood the Caliph's hunger for revenge against the Mariner. But she, too, had every right to that revenge. Darius Mariner. Others she might leave to them—but that man, she would repay with her own hands. Because of him, her precious mother had died.
"Just promise me that."
Bariya held out her little finger. Faced with a resolve so absolute that she could not bring herself to argue, Sirka sighed at last and hooked her finger with the child's.
But I can't truly sit still, either.
After Sirka left, Bariya went to stand at the window. She had made the promise because Sirka was so worried, but she needed to know what that man would say. There was too much she was still hiding from the Caliph. So she would sneak over and listen in.
That afternoon.
"...What did you just say?"
The face of Darius Mariner, newly arrived before the Caliph Estate, hardened violently.
"You will not be permitted inside the estate. The Family Head will emerge shortly. Until then, you will wait here."
At the words of Rowin Denebian, Knight Commander of the Caliph Family, standing guard before the great gate, Darius's face flushed a furious red.