Chapter 4
“Just the thing he would do,” murmured Fa-Ying to himself. “Making himself king in Sheiji’s place.”
They were still standing on the balcony; Prince Sui-Tsai had removed the crown from Sheiji’s head and had placed it on his own. Now he brushed Sheiji aside rudely and strode away, his own retinue of guards and servants following. He gave Sheiji a cold stare as he passed.
“We’ll go too,” said Fa-Ying, leading the way. The crowd began to disperse, some happy, some sad, and some angry with the events that had taken place.
As soon as they were safely in his room, Sheiji burst out, “Why did you let him, Fa-Ying? Why did you let him take my crown?”
“He was right, my king,” Fa-Ying frowned. “You cannot rule until you have been properly trained.”
“Then we must start my training at once!” exclaimed the new king. “Will you teach me?”
“Not now. No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
Fa-Ying was silent for so long that Sheiji thought he would not answer. Finally though, he said, “There is no time.”
“What do you mean?”
“We won’t speak of that now.”
Several days later, the boy-king sat on the royal bed in the room that had always belonged to the King of Imatsuro. He was thinking hard. He jumped up suddenly and ran out of his room. He hurried down the corridors, past rows and rows of rooms unknown and thus far forbidden to him. He smiled as he ran, proud of the clever revelation that had just come to him.
He arrived at the door of the great scriptorium and library. At this time, the library was deserted. He entered in and glanced around. It had been a long time since he was here. Rows upon rows of books lined shelves that ran from floor to ceiling all the way around the room. In the center of the room was a low, wooden table with elaborate silk cushions as seats.
Sheiji walked to a shelf and picked out a large volume. “History of the Kings of Imatsuro, from Mio-Lo to Khan-Wang,” he read. “Why did I not think of this before? I know how to read. If Fa-Ying won’t teach me, I’ll teach myself all I need to know about being king. Then my brother won’t have to be king for me.”
Sheiji pulled out the heavy book and staggered with it to the table. He set it down with a clunk, panting for breath. “Now, I’ll sit down and start to read it.”
Sheiji opened the volume to the first page and stared down at the complicated script that seemed to swim across the page in no particular pattern. “Mio-Lo was…the fir…first…king of the…Kha…Khamalo…dyn…na…sty…dynasty. This is too hard,” he sighed. “I wish I had paid more attention to my lessons!”
“He…be…became king…in 342,” he began again. “Oh, I give up!” He slammed the book shut and lugged it to the shelf.
“Maybe an easier book,” he said to himself. “How about, Arar’mima Kawa-Matsu sezo. A book about my father?”
Sheiji removed the book and brought it to the table. “Toizu…sezo,…dezo…durorczay…
durazi…vàoza…anhziy…hurorngzoy…denziy…khizu…toizu…chetzey.” Sheiji laughed. “What crazy language is this?”
“Put that book away,” came a voice. “Where did you find that?”
“Tamé?” said Sheiji with surprise.
“Yes. It is I. Put that away now!” Tamé commanded.
“But—,” began Sheiji. But before he could finish, Tamé jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. Down on the floor they rolled. Tamé grasped Sheiji around the neck. Sheiji tried to escape the death grip.
Tamé held on. Sheiji couldn’t breathe. He struggled, tried to get a breath. He grew dizzy. His head hurt.
Suddenly there was a shout and Tamé released Sheiji from his grip. Sheiji gulped the air and felt he could not get enough.
“How dare you!” came a voice. “You attempt to murder the king? Do you know the penalty for raising a hand against the king?”
Sheiji’s mind was foggy but he could see two men shouting at each other.
“How dare you speak like that to me,” came Tamé’s voice. “You, the son of one of my father’s mistresses! You are less than a slave and you dare talk to me like that. I ought to have you beaten. You dirty the palace with your presence.”
“And you?” came the other man’s reply. “Are you any greater than I? I have heard you are not really King Kawa’s son at all. They say your father is naught but a poor peasant from Tafay.”
“That is not true!” shouted Tamé, greatly angered at the offence to his mother and himself. “My mother has never been unfaithful to her husband. I am the king’s son.”
“Then why are you named after that city? Perhaps we ought to have a fight. The truth always wins, they say.”
“I’m busy,” argued Tamé. “I haven’t time for childish fights.”
“You’re afraid,” the other man taunted. “You think you will be beaten by an illegitimate son of King Kawa. Perhaps it is so.”
“I won’t fight you. You are much too unworthy to have the privilege of fighting with a prince. Besides, I really do not want to have to kill you.”
“Oh, what a pity. I would really take joy in killing you Prince Tamé, enemy of the king,” the man sneered.
“You speak treason!” Tamé screamed. Then he turned quickly to Sheiji and said, “Listen, you are never to come in here again. Do you understand?”
Sheiji nodded.
“You are forbidden to come here, to touch these or any books in the palace. If you do, I’ll make you regret it very much.”
Sheiji shivered at his brother’s words. He knew it was not far from the truth.
“If I were you, I would leave now,” said the man, “before my patience runs out and I kill you, prince or no prince.”
Tamé hurried away, muttering something about revenge.
“My king,” the man cried then, and hurried to Sheiji’s side. He knelt before him and bowed. “Are you all right? Can you hear me, Vua?”
“I can hear you,” Sheiji said faintly. “I feel dizzy.”
The man looked around nervously. “Can you walk, Vua?” he asked hesitantly.
“I don’t know,” Sheiji mumbled. He tried to stand, but his limbs would not respond. “I can’t,” he said.
The man looked around nervously again. “What should I do?” he said half to himself. “Should I get someone, Vua?”
Sheiji nodded, “Get Fa-Ying.”
“I can’t leave you here, Tamé might return and finish you off,” the man said in despair. He rubbed his forehead. “Will you pardon me for touching you, Vua? I think I could carry you to your room.”
Sheiji nodded and the man lifted him in his arms. Soon they were in Sheiji’s room and the man lay him down on the bed.
“Sheiji! What happened?” Fa-Ying rushed into the room and asked urgently. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Don’t tell!” Sheiji cried. “Don’t tell. Don’t make me tell! I’ll be killed. I know it.”
“Sheiji, calm down, no one is going to kill you. Tell me, what happened.”
“He’ll kill me!”
“You,” Fa-Ying said to the man. “Tell me who you are and what happened.”
“My name is Inon. I am a son of one of King Kawa’s concubines and a soldier in your bodyguard, Vua.”
“Please don’t tell! Don’t make me tell,” interrupted Sheiji. His head had now cleared and he sat up straight on the bed
“Hush, Sheiji,” said Fa-Ying. “Tell me what happened, Inon.”
“I dare not,” Inon mumbled. “Vua has forbidden it.”
“Oh, don’t listen to Vua! I want to know what happened,” Fa-Ying sighed exasperatedly.
Inon shuffled his feet and rubbed his forehead. He glanced at Sheiji who sat fearfully with his arms around his knees.
“Tamé…” Inon began uncomfortably. “Tamé…he…”
“He tried to kill me,” said Sheiji. “I was in the library reading and he pushed me to the ground and tried to strangle me. If Inon had
n’t come along, I think he would have killed me. That’s what he meant to do. And I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Inon looked relieved that he hadn’t had to tell the story.
Fa-Ying frowned grimly, “What were you reading, Sheiji?”
“First I was reading a book about the different kings of Imatsuro, but that was too difficult. So I chose a book that wasn’t as large, it was a book about my father, I think, it had his name on it anyway, but it was in a strange language that I did not understand.”
“What was the name of that book?” asked Fa-Ying warily.
Sheiji thought for a moment, “It had my father’s name in it and then another word…seso… or…semo or…”
“Sezo?” asked Fa-Ying.
“Yes, I think so.”
“No wonder he got angry,” muttered Fa-Ying.
“What does sezo mean?”
“You need not know what it means yet,” replied Fa-Ying.
“Why?” asked Sheiji.
“For your safety, Sheiji,” replied Fa-Ying.
Sheiji scowled, “Do you know what it means, Inon?”
Inon shook his head. “I do not speak Thánh.”
“What is Thánh?”
“Hush, Sheiji, speak no more about this matter,” ordered Fa-Ying severely.
Sheiji frowned and sat glumly on the bed.
Fa-Ying and Inon talked together for some time. Finally, Fa-Ying said, “Listen, Sheiji. I want you to stay here. Do you understand? Stay right here in this room and do not leave, no matter what.”