Jade War

Tar and Woon were waiting to escort them away from the stage. Woon put a steady hand on Shae’s back and guided her toward the rear exit where their cars were waiting, but Hilo paused along the way to speak to Chancellor Son Tomarho. The corpulent politician looked pale and overworked these days; he appeared to have gained even more weight and he wheezed a little as he caught up to the Pillar. Son’s time as head of the Royal Council had been plagued by clan violence, economic concerns, and now international military escalation and foreign pressure. While ostensibly representing the interests of the common people, the overwhelming majority of councilmen were affiliated with one of the major clans; for two years, open war between No Peak and the Mountain had bred a tense and factional political environment in which the tide of political fortune might be swayed by the outcome of street battles between Green Bones. Trying to lead such a divided political body was surely not good for one’s health. Son had less than two years left in his six-year term, and Hilo suspected the man was already looking forward to leaving office.

“Chancellor,” Hilo said, forcing a smile and putting a hand on the man’s large shoulder. “Peace between the clans, like you wanted. And both of us still alive.”

Son cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ah, yes, well. It’s true that was not always a foregone conclusion. I speak gladly for the Royal Council in commending you and your Weather Man on this achievement; the entire country is thankful and relieved.” Son touched his hands to his forehead and bent into a salute. “A great day, Kaul-jen.”

* * *

“What a miserable day, to end a miserable month,” Hilo grumbled after dinner. He spooned coconut rice custard into small bowls and passed them down the table as Kyanla cleared away the used plates. “At least I got Teije back.”

“An accomplishment that was surely worth getting yourself and everyone in No Peak banned for life from the Uwiwa Islands,” Shae said drily. “Zapunyo’s made sure that scenes of dead Uwiwan policemen are all over his country’s news programs and some international ones.”

“Shae,” Hilo admonished, glancing at their mother.

To everyone’s surprise, Kaul Wan Ria spoke up and said, “Everyone knows the Uwiwans are all crooks; even their police are crooks. To think what might’ve happened to poor Mrs. Teije’s son if you hadn’t rescued him. You saved your auntie’s life, Hilo-se; she would’ve died of a broken heart if her son had come to harm, and so far away from home. I hope he learns his lesson and stays in Kekon from now on.” She began to push back from the table.

Wen got up to help her. “Don’t you want dessert, Ma?” she asked.

“No, you should eat it. You need it for the baby.”

After dinner was a time for the Green Bones in the family to discuss clan issues. Hilo recalled that as a child, he would be shooed away to play, while Grandda, Doru, and their inner circle remained in the dining room, smoking and drinking hoji, and his mother retired to her room to read or watch television.

Hilo walked around the table behind Kehn’s and Tar’s chairs to give his mother a hug before she left. Full family dinners were rare in the Kaul home these days. “Everything okay with the guesthouse? It’ll be a lot nicer once we fix it up; we’re going to put in new floors and appliances. I know you like it in Marenia, but you should live closer once the baby arrives.” Since Lan’s death, it seemed to Hilo that his mother had aged and shrunken; he’d hired help to take care of the family’s beach house, bring her groceries, and check in on her, but it would be safer to have her behind estate walls, and a grandchild might give her some purpose.

His mother patted him on the arm. Hilo didn’t press his argument. She might be reluctant to give up the peaceful solitude she’d grown used to on the coast, but he was her eldest son now, and she was sure to obey him; he simply needed to be gentle about it.

Once his mother had departed, Hilo sat back down and ate his dessert, giving Shae another remonstrative look for her deliberate tactlessness. Securing the peace agreement between the clans had been a significant public victory for the Weather Man’s office; Hilo knew his sister had been working long hours for weeks, spearheading the detailed negotiations. But that didn’t excuse her talking down to him, in front of his own men and his wife, no less.

“You want to know what Ayt Mada said to me in Gohei?” Hilo looked around the table before settling his gaze back on Shae. “She told me to give up now. To kneel and take oaths to the Mountain, because I’m not Grandda, and I’m not Lan, so No Peak’s fucked.”