Chapter Ashborn 340: Clandestine Gatherings (Three) (Maiya)

Chapter Ashborn 340: Clandestine Gatherings (Three) (Maiya)

Maiya made to enter, but Riyan stopped her.

“What will you do about this?” he asked, gesturing his chin to the ruckus.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Maiya replied with a coy smirk. “Just watch.”

At that moment, a ‘ruffian’ caught sight of the guards, and panicked, pushing the crowd in an attempt to get away.

That, of course, prompted the guards to peel off and follow.

This, in turn, caused a dam to break, and all the ‘thugs’ who’d been ‘fighting’ broke off and split in every direction. The guards gave chase, but were hampered by the crowd.

Not one paid any mind to the door Maiya was standing in front of.

“See?” Maiya said with a grin.

“You’ve some explaining to do, girl,” Riyan said, beckoning for her to enter.

She did so, but when her squad of four motioned to do the same, Riyan raised a hand.

“No. Not them. Only you.”

Their motions were nearly nonexistent, but Maiya caught the subtle repositioning of their arms and the bending of their knees as they braced for combat.

“I think you could spare me a few girls...” Maiya bluffed.

“Hardly a few girls,” Riyan said, calling her bluff. “They are trained. Exceedingly well, from the way they move. They could wreak havoc in here if they so chose.”

Maiya raised an amused brow. “And I can’t?”

Riyan didn’t answer, confirming her thoughts. He still didn’t know that she was the one he fought in Kartara. As far as Riyan was concerned, Maiya had suddenly shown up after years away.

Good. That’ll make this easier, Maiya thought.

But she wasn’t ready to concede just yet. “I could have my people raise more of a ruckus...”

Riyan shook his head. “No, you can’t. They have dissipated and will be fleeing the authorities for some time. Now, you are alone. Alone, and powerless.”

Maiya found herself grinding her teeth despite everything. She’d forgotten how good the man was at getting on her nerves.

“Fine,” she said, dismissing her handmaidens. They hesitated, but she looked them in the eye and nodded. “I’ll be alright. I’ll signal if I need help.”

Riyan raised a brow at that, no doubt wondering exactly how she’d manage such a feat, but he didn’t need to know that Maiya was carrying a communications orb on her. An orb that relayed every word that would be exchanged between her and Riyan to handmaidens stationed at their camp outside the city.

Those words would then be transcribed. For posterity, of course. Definitely not for blackmail. Maiya preferred to call it insurance.

Maiya followed Riyan through a dark, empty hallway, then around a corner, which led to—of all things—a dead-end room with a basic bed, couch, and a few chairs.

“Where have you been all this time?” Maiya asked, figuring she’d make full use of her time with the man. Who knew how much of it she’d have?

“Not here,” was Riyan’s curt response, though whether he’d intended it as an answer to her question, or whether he was telling her that chatting here wasn’t a good idea, she didn’t know.

One of Riyan’s rebels knelt and pulled off the rug that covered the floor, revealing a wooden trapdoor embedded into the floor. The man bypassed the Magic Lock and opened the door.

“Down,” Riyan said.

Maiya peered into the dark hole and shrugged, lowering herself down. She carried with her a dozen orbs of C and B grade, all of which were precharged. If Riyan tried to pull anything, she’d ensure there was nothing left of his little base.

Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Even if she took Riyan out, against such numbers, there were no guarantees. Not to mention doing so would make the mission end in failure—let alone the tragic loss of life it’d bring.

Maiya could only pray that Riyan didn’t force her hand.

He won’t, she assured herself. Not when the carrot is this juicy.

The long ladder led down two floors, and at the bottom, Maiya found a bustling hive of activity.

They were unquestionably within the sewers, and yet there was none of the stink that plagued such places.

As Riyan led her down repurposed sewer ways, she found people, bunks, desks, and all the accouterments of daily life. Large rooms that once held sluice gates had been cleaned and converted into mess halls, and sewage holding rooms were now pristine barracks.

“We did a little remodeling,” Riyan said, noticing Maiya eyeing their surroundings. “The sewers were the only place I could realistically fit so many without attracting attention.”

“It couldn’t have been easy,” Maiya said. She didn’t even want to guess how much work it would’ve taken to clean and sanitize such a place, let alone bring in enough Magic Lap orbs to light the place.

“It certainly wasn’t,” Riyan chuckled. “And the cleanup was the easier part. Diverting the sewer flow in a way that didn’t impact the city was an engineering feat and a half.”

Maiya squelched the horror that was about to rear itself and leveled her gaze at Riyan.

“Because that would only make the man you hate happy.”

“Explain.”

“I’m not working with Andros, Riyan. I’m working with Princess Ira.”

“The very princess you were intended to spy on.”

“Yes,” Maiya said, not backing down an inch. “Because what she wants and what you want are the same, and if you got over your immense ego and saw things clearly, you’d understand that as well.”

“Kin’jals are all the same!” Riyan roared. “Battle hungry, backstabbing warmongers. It is in their blood.”

“If you knew a thing about Ira, you’d know how horribly wrong you are. For example, can you tell me what Ira plans to do, should she ascend to the throne?”

“She intends to launch a coup against her father?” Riyan asked, taken aback.

“Your intelligence fails you, Riyan,” Maiya said, acting as if such a thing ought to be well known. It wasn’t, of course, but it allowed Maiya an opportunity to gain the initiative in the conversation.

“What of it? She’ll simply take up her father’s mantle and invade Hiranya. Better the evil we know.”

“Wholistic cultural reform,” Maiya said.

“What do you mean?”

“She hates what the country has become. The reputation it’s gained. She wants to turn Kin’jal away from expansionism, starting at the very foundation. Instead of extolling combat, she’ll have schoolteachers prioritize the arts, engineering, and trade. Instead of combat tournaments, she’ll host merchant fairs instead.”

Riyan snorted. “The princess is more delusional than I thought. This will never happen.”

“It’ll never happen if no one tries,” Maiya said. “And her success hardly matters to you, doesn’t it? To get the Balarian Guard away from Sonam, she intends to precipitate two uprisings. One in Sai, which, thanks to you, is already well on its way. And another in Hiranya.”

“You mean to have Andros invade Hiranya?” Riyan replied, instantly catching onto the plan. “And you thought for an instant I would go along with this?”

“No, Riyan,” Maiya said with a sigh. “Nobody wants the loss of life that would cause, I assure you. By drawing out Kin’jal’s army to two fronts, Andros leaves Sonam exposed.”

“And that is when your princess will strike.”

“Yes. So you tell me. What will happen when she does?”

“Andros would recall his army,” Riyan said, stroking his beard. “I see. And while they retreat, Hiranya can go on the offense, culling their numbers.”

“Or, you know? Solidify its brand-new king’s rule?”

“You speak of Sanobar, I assume?” Riyan said, looking off into the distance.

“The one and only. He has Ira’s support. He has your approval. He’s capable, and he should be on the throne. We both know he’ll lead Hiranya much better than his father ever could.”

“That, I do not dispute,” Riyan said. “But to oust Rayid for no fault of his own...”

“Really?” Maiya asked, raising her brows. “Really? That man created Mina. Whether through negligence or outright incompetence, she would never have existed without him. A spineless, mediocre ruler can does more damage than a tyrant, you know?”

Riyan fell silent for a long while, eyeing Maiya. “You truly have grown. If only you'd put that mind to Hiranya, instead.”

“I am, Riyan,” Maiya said, returning his state. “Look, you don’t need to believe in Princess Ira. You need only believe that she wants Andros gone, and that she’ll launch a coup of her own. As for what happens after—well, nothing good for Kin’jal. Either Andros is killed and Ira takes the reign, or a civil war erupts. Either way, the country will no longer be a threat to Hiranya. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Princess Ira Kin’jal,” Riyan said, as if testing the taste of the words in his mouth. “I wish to speak with her. In person. I must measure her mettle for myself.”

“You’re serious...”

“I am.”

“Riyan... the whole realm knows just how much you hate Kin’jal. Do you think anyone in their right mind would let you meet with one of their princesses?”

“That is... I see,” Riyan replied, stroking his chin. As far as Maiya could tell, the man was being genuine. But one could never know with this man.

“Very well. I shall prove my allegiance through action. Then, if the princess finds it amenable, we shall meet. Know that I will never help a Kin’jal unless I have assured myself of their character. Tell your princess that I am willing to give her this one chance. Should she deny it, then you had better pray we never meet. For her sake.”

Maiya nearly rolled her eyes at Riyan’s threat. Always with the posturing and the threats. He never changed.

It didn’t matter. All that did was that she’d achieved what she’d set out to accomplish. The first block of foundation had been laid. Now, they had to build the fortress that would sit on top.

“Your offer is acceptable,” Maiya said, fighting to keep the smile off her face. “I’ll let Ira know right away. As for this action you spoke of...”

“Fear not,” Riyan said, his lips curling into a vicious grin. “You will know. When the time comes.”