Princess Takiyasha's Arc

Chapter 10 of 10

At dawn the Tusk masons filled the courtyard, hammers ready. Takiyasha unrolled her drawing of the shrine on the flagstones. She had planned every stone: a mossy pool at the center, reed pillars, a frog altar facing east. But when she pointed to the wall and spoke, the masons stared at Borjigin. He grunted a word in his own tongue. Only then did they lift their tools. Takiyasha spoke again. Again the masons looked to the boar, not to her. She learned the truth fast. These hands obeyed one voice, and it was not hers. She found Borjigin at the embassy his people had raised by the gate. "Your masons ignore me," she said. "I paid for builders, not deaf men." Borjigin sharpened an arrow and did not look up. "They build what I tell them. That is the Tusk way." He tested the point on his thumb. "Tell me your shrine. I will pass it down." Takiyasha saw the trap. If Borjigin held the only voice the masons heard, he held her shrine. He could shape it, slow it, twist it into a debt she never agreed to pay. She needed a translator who answered to her. She walked among her frog folk and stopped at a tall figure in a crimson silk kimono. Genjuro the Bog-Strider had marched with her from the swamp. He knew the old shrine by heart, its every reed and stone. He also knew the Tusk tongue; he had spent seasons trading songs across the marsh borders. He struck a slow pose when she approached, folding his webbed hands. "You speak their words," Takiyasha said. "And you know what my shrine must be." Genjuro tilted his wide head. "I know both, Princess. But the boar's men will not obey a frog. Not for asking." His golden eyes narrowed. "They obey coin and rank." So Takiyasha bought rank. She returned to the vault behind the throne. The great golden chest sat there, frogs carved among its emeralds. She lifted the lid and counted out a heavy purse from the coin that remained. She carried it to Borjigin and set it on his table. "A foreman's wage," she said. "Genjuro speaks for me now. Tell your masons to take his word as yours, or the second half of your payment stays in that chest." Borjigin weighed the purse in his palm. He weighed her face longer. Then he grinned around his tusks. "You bargain like a khan," he said, and called his masons close. He spoke the order. The hammers turned toward Genjuro. By midday Genjuro stood at the shrine site, calling out in two tongues. Stone rose where he pointed. The pool took shape. The frog folk croaked with hope. But Takiyasha's purse was lighter now. The coin left for Borjigin's final payment had shrunk. She had bought her voice with the gold she owed him.