The Weeping Empress by Sadie S. Forsythe

Author:Sadie S. Forsythe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love, loss, adventure, journey, supernatural, goddess, sacrifice, a, selfdiscovery, samurai, goddess belief, martyr, samurai warrior, woman and several men, journey across worlds, mangalike, samurai sword, womans revenge, epic adventure fantasy, young adult and adult, woman as hero
Publisher: Sadie S. Forsythe

Chapter 8

Kali calls her children to her side, cradles the lost, and fends off the enemy of the faithful.

Back at the campsite, Muhjah and Senka awoke and found her place by the fire empty. Muhjah groaned. It wasn’t unusual. They were pretty used to her morning constitutionals, but he still didn’t like it.

“I heard her leave about an hour ago.” Senka said without opening his eyes.

“You didn’t go after her?”

Senka shook his head and stretched his lean frame to its full length. He pressed the bulging thenar of his left hand dully into the sunken recesses of his eyes before sitting up. He looked tired and drawn. Muhjah could tell that staying behind had required a tour de force that was taking its toll.

“She doesn’t want me to,” he said.

Muhjah raised an unseen eyebrow and stoked the fire back into life. Hunger usually drove her back by breakfast, and there was no better way to pass the time than with tea. Senka joined him glumly. They ate a sparse meal, waited for her, and, when she didn’t return, started searching in an irritated huff, but annoyance turned to concern when they found no evidence of her.

“I’m not liking this at all,” Muhjah growled. “There should be something.”

He was kneeling in the road and looking at what might have been fresh tracks, evidence that the road had been undisturbed for some days, or mere wishful thinking. He was looking at nothing that helped them, and said so.

Senka agreed. He rolled a pebble thoughtfully underfoot and asked, “You think it’s finally found her?”

Muhjah understood his meaning. Chiyo’s recent behavior invited disaster. She was angry—at them, at her situation in general, and her inability to change it. She took it out on them. He had to respect her tenacity and congratulate himself for his patience, but it was approaching its limit.

“It’s not hard to imagine,” he said. “Going off on her own all the time, you’d only expect her to find trouble eventually. It’s her own fault; it’s not like we haven’t warned her … repeatedly.”

He dusted off his knees and scratched at his scalp vigorously, a habit he only practiced when he was particularly vexed. Senka hadn’t seen it in a number of years, showcasing more of his friend’s thoughts than his cavalier words.

“Goddess, I almost hope that’s it. Let’s just get it over with and get back to normal,” Muhjah exclaimed.

Senka cracked a slim, empathetic smile. Although it went unspoken, both men believed that things would continue until she was finally cornered and hurt. That point meant they had been punished enough. She would forgive their intervention, and it would never be spoken of again. Both looked forward to that day.

“What are you thinking?” Muhjah asked in a calmer voice.

“She would have traveled south. You know how she hates backtracking,” Senka responded.

He looked up and down the road for evidence to support this, but there was none. He turned to Muhjah.

“Hmm,” Muhjah nodded. “Calls it a waste of time, thinks people should only move forward in life—one of her more endearing idiocies.

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