by Vivian Chak
***
Flame had never actually used the sword against another swordsman before. The first time, with the constables at the market, she had drawn the sword in blind panic, sweeping it in short chops as if with a staff. Those had all been easily parried by dao that seemed foreign to her. This time, however, the sword that met hers was swung in familiar patterns. Long thrusts. Circling blocks. The only unfamiliarity was in the way the blade seemed to find its way into hers, clanging loudly every time it did so. Xiang had told her that this was bad for both blade and wielder, as it chipped the blade and tired out the arm with avoidable vibrations. She wondered if that was the point. Her opponent's blade seemed to be of finer steel than hers.
The sword leapt forwards for her throat, and Flame leaned back quickly, sword circling out to block, then spinning in figure eights to try and dissuade further attack. Instead, the blade danced for her feet, and Flame retreated, nearly bumping into the side of the guardhouse as she did so. It would have been better to move to the side. As the sword came again, Flame deliberately moved towards the swordsman, blade poised to sweep downwards for the throat. But in the glow of the lantern flame, she noticed a familiar face.
“Swordsman Xiang!” Flame was lowering her blade even as Xiang battered it aside. “Don't you recognize me?” It was clearly him, even though his face wasn't as clean-shaven and his topknot in a slight mess.
It took him several seconds to lower his blade, and another several before he acknowledged her.
“Flame meimei,” he returned, voice taut. Flame gave him a swordsman's salute, handle grasped in left fist and brought up to right palm. He returned that tersely as well, but when Flame sheathed her blade, his stiff facade seemed to snap, and he thrust his blade abruptly into the wooden planks of the dock, where it then stood, quivering.
“Alright, what's going on?” Xiang's voice cut sharply across the fray. Flame could see her sister, still wearing her plates, and Wong, with his staff, at the centre of the din. They ignored him. Gritting his teeth, Xiang grabbed the guardhouse gong and dealt it several blows.
The sound reverberated as the gong shivered from Xiang's hand, and the combatants all jerked back sharply, looking for the high official that the sound of the gong was meant to precede. Seeing none, they turned their gaze on Xiang.
“You will explain yourselves. On the prefect's orders.” He shook out a scroll, slightly worn from travel, but with the red chop still clearly visible in the dim glow. Flame thought the characters looked familiar, though they were in seal script, so she couldn't be sure. Anyway, it didn't matter, so long as the paper could sufficiently cow their enemies. The men began murmuring again.
“They attacked a monk,” Flame offered quickly. Wong drew his glare from the men to her. He was still armoured. It looked suspicious.
“A monk in armour,” one of the men said slowly. “Not a real one, then.”
“We were trying to avoid false persecution. If you must know.” That was Jiang. Sometimes her sister could be more frank than her. Everyone swivelled, surprised at a second female voice. Flame thought Wong was about to explode. One of the men, as if suddenly recognizing Xiang, turned to him speedily.
“Young master Li, if it pleases you, this is one of those girls your-”
Xiang smacked him with the scroll.
“I know what Prefect Li has ordered! And it pleases me to execute his orders personally!” He turned his fury on the remainder. “You're dismissed for the night. Find your replacements. And no more incidents of mistaken identity like this one.”
“Are you certain it's not them?” This was one of the older men speaking.
“Grandfather,” said Xiang, anger barely contained by the honorific, “leave the Li family business to Li.” Flame tensed. She should have been used to Li being on their trail by now, but every time someone brought up his name, she felt irrationally angry. Why wouldn't he leave them be? She gripped the hilt of her blade harder.
“You're all coming with me,” said Xiang, when the majority of the men had shuffled off, leaving a few to clean up the mess. He glanced at her sister and Wong. “No need for disguises.”
“Pardon, Li Xiang, but we've an appointment elsewhere,” said Wong pointedly.
“I don't believe you're going anywhere, trailing blood like that.”
“Is your shoulder troubling you, Wong shifu?” Jiang regarded Wong's shoulder concernedly.
“I've been cut by younger men, in younger days. My hide's gotten harder since.” Wong shrugged off Jiang's worry, and tied one of his monk's leg straps about his shoulder, knotting it by hand and teeth. It was a useful skill, thought Flame.
“Don't you worry about the blood, Master Li,” Wong growled, characteristically, to finish.
“Nonetheless, I would suggest that the Lian sisters not attempt the waterway again tonight. Li will be watching.” Xiang wore a scowl. It seemed that Li could upset anyone.
“What does Li want with us?” Flame had to know. Xiang looked around warily.
“Keep your voice down. I have it on good authority that he has some unfinished business with you both, to put it concisely.” He crossed his arms as they walked from the dock.
“And finishing this business involves finishing us off, right?” She found it frustrating to be given indirect answers.
“No!” Both Xiang and her sister answered, adamantly and immediately. That was a surprise. Usually her sister was never this emphatic. She must have been annoyed by something.
“Well, then what's this all about?” Flame demanded. She had the intuition that if someone would just tell her, she would be able to put an end to all this running from Li. Astonishingly, Jiang answered, though not directly.
“We'll talk about it soon, tonight.”
The moon, previously darkened, was becoming visible again, as the clouds unfurled. She could vaguely see Jiang's face, set in determined silence. However, Flame was reassured by the response, as her sister was one of the few people she knew who reliably meant what they said. Wong trailed them in unreadable silence. They reached a dilapidated-looking inn, and Xiang paid for them all, before excusing himself for further business.
Moonlight penetrated the thin curtains, and Flame found herself seated cross-legged before her sister, in anticipation of answers.