Ten Thousand Thorns_A Fairy Tale Retold

by Suzannah Rowntree

  “Your sword is extraordinarily powerful,” she said thoughtfully. “You must practice with it constantly. If you only let it tell you what to do, you would almost not need my teaching.” She tapped his acupoint thrice, releasing him, and then helped him climb to his feet.

  He was exhausted from all the fighting, and his body ached from Iron Maiden’s punishment. Clouded Sky hesitated before wearily sheathing his sword.

  “I admit it, Miss Iron. You are better than me.”

  She smiled. “So you will come with me to Ten Thousand Thorns Temple?”

  “No. Princess Morning Light has achieved enlightenment and is free of this unhappy world. To draw her back would be an unrighteous act!”

  Iron Maiden was incredulous. “Unrighteous? But it’s the duty of every righteous warrior to punish injustice! The self-styled emperor uproots and slays innocent people, filling their lives with misery—how can it be unrighteous to help them?”

  “I will help them. Just not like this. If Morning Light is destined to wake, she will do so whether I interfere or not.”

  “A person who is in such a deep meditation will not awake without some significant assistance, hero. You heard the story. The will of Heaven must be carried out!”

  “But not by me. As I told you, I must return to Mount Jing.”

  There was a short and disappointed silence. “Dage, if you are going to Mount Jing to take charge of the rebels, then you are doing a righteous thing. I can’t object to that. But don’t go and fight the Emperor with such an important part of your training missing!”

  Clouded Sky hesitated. He could no longer ignore the fact that Iron Maiden was right. His martial arts were lacking. But to learn from a renegade wanderer? Just asking for permission to do such a thing would cause Harmonious Virtue to lose face.

  “A day or two and you’ll know everything I can teach you!” Iron Maiden looked hopeful.

  “You’re right,” he said gently. “I do need more training. Don’t worry. Before I return to Mount Jing, I’ll ask Harmonious Virtue if he will consent to train me further.”

  And it would be orthodox training, too. Not Iron Maiden’s dangerous heresies.

  She looked so crestfallen that he was afraid she was going to cry.

  “Good luck in your search, Miss Iron,” he said hurriedly, and vaulted onto Flying Crane’s back. As Clouded Sky cantered away, he imagined the dejection on her face as she watched him go. What other choice did he have?

  2.

  For the sake of secrecy, the Imperial Sword’s men kept perfect silence as they marched. Overhead the bright moon hovered like a golden pearl above the horizon, shedding a pale light in the dark valley where he and his men travelled. Allusive half-sentences about the moon, the valley, and the goal that he pursued melded together in the Imperial Sword’s mind, creating a vast web of intricate meaning and double meaning. When he had the chance, he would write them down. If they were as good as he thought, he might have a poem.

  Footsteps pattered along the river toward them. Imperial Sword thumbed his sword loose in the sheath, but when the figure emerged from the dusk, it proved to be Second Brother. The bounty hunter had vanished during the fight on the mountain, and Imperial Sword had put him out of mind. Imperial Sword was careful not to reveal his surprise.

  “You again,” he said. “Do you have more information for me?”

  The bounty hunter bowed profoundly.

  “I have good news and bad news, your excellency. I tracked Clouded Sky’s horse all the way to Peony Settlement. He must have arrived an hour ago.”

  “And the Iron Maiden?”

  Second Brother shook his head. “She left him at some point along the way. I would tell your excellency where, but she must have employed her lightness skill in leaving. There were no tracks on the ground.”

  The Imperial Sword schooled his face to show none of the exasperation he felt. After the fight at the temple he had lost valuable time getting his wounded men down the mountain. By the time he was ready to continue the chase, Clouded Sky and Iron Maiden were long out of sight, and unlike Second Brother, his men weren’t good enough trackers to follow a horse’s trail through the forest.

  He’d had to assume that Iron Maiden would recruit Clouded Sky to travel west with her to Ten Thousand Thorns Temple, and even if she didn’t, Clouded Sky was headed west past Wudang anyway. So in the end, he’d decided to cut across country in hope of picking them up on the west road. He’d known it was risky if the pair of them split up, but he’d gambled on Clouded Sky being eager to recover the Heaven-Relying Dragon-Slaying Sword Skill. Gambled, and lost.

  “Is Clouded Sky still in the settlement?”

  “Yes, your excellency. The old woman I spoke to said he had gone to the inn. I checked the stable. There was a white horse.”

  The Imperial Sword nodded. “We’ll have to question him. If Iron Maiden has shared her secrets with him, he might be useful to us. If not, he’s the only one who can tell us where she was last seen.”

  Second Brother smiled and stroked his weapons.

  The Imperial Sword grabbed his wrist. “No wanton killing! Do you hear me? I want Clouded Sky alive and talking. Otherwise…” He swallowed. Maybe the Emperor was right. Maybe a clean kill today was better than a rebellion tomorrow. “Otherwise, kill anyone who resists.”

  The window of Clouded Sky’s room faced west. If he leaned out, he could just see the purple shoulders of Wudang Mountain fading into the darkening southern sky. The Taoist monastery on its high ridge was just two days’ journey from Peony Settlement, and somewhere in the darkness beyond was Mount Jing and the Roaring Tiger rebels. Once he reached Wudang, he would have to send word that he was alive and returning to them.

  This late in the evening, only a few people went to and fro in the street, hurrying to their homes before night closed in. A figure in a reed hat came along the street from the east, and as it passed the window, the hat tilted back to reveal a pale smudge of face peering up at him. Hurriedly, Clouded Sky drew back and closed the window. Here in Peony Settlement there were no wanted posters staring at him with his own eyes, but all the same he needed to avoid drawing attention to himself. It could not be too much longer before the Emperor marched into Hubei to smash the Mount Jing troops once and for all. Some would jump at the chance to win the Emperor’s favour by delivering Clouded Sky to him as an appetiser.

  The room was a good one and the bed looked inviting. In the days when Clouded Sky and Broken Spear had roamed the martial arts world, fighting injustice and helping the needy, they had often stayed in taverns much worse than this one, each taking turns to watch while the other slept. Now Broken Spear was dead and once more he was forced to doze or meditate upright in a corner, his sword ready in his hands.

  Exhausted as he was, Clouded Sky dreaded the nights. In the dark it was easy to imagine the ghosts of his foster father and blood brother rising up to reproach him. There ought to have been something he could have done. He should have been able to save them…

  Clouded Sky rearranged the covers on the bed to make it appear as though a body was lying there, and then seated himself in a dark corner with a good view of both the window and the door. He settled his sword across his knees and tried to meditate, but ever since Broken Spear’s death, calm had evaded him.

  Was there any truth in Iron Maiden’s story? Where had she learned her martial arts? Even if Princess Morning Light was real, and even if she could be woken from her meditation, why would she agree to help him? What if she chose to support the Emperor instead?

  Better not to consider it. He had to go to Wudang first and then Mount Jing.

  Even if Morning Light was willing to lead her followers to defend Hubei, the Vastly Martial Emperor still claimed the Mandate of Heaven. And not without reason. He commanded thousands of troops. In the wake of the Yuans’ downfall, he had extended his power over most of All-Under-Heaven. With the stroke of a brush he had condemned Broken Spear and Roaring Tiger to death, and now
Clouded Sky himself was a fugitive in his own province. If Heaven and Earth sanctioned the Vastly Martial Emperor’s mandate, surely it was foolish to dream of something better.

  Movement outside the window startled him from his thoughts. Clouded Sky drew his sword and rose to his feet. Some iron implement slithered through the gap between the two shutters and lifted the latch. The hinges murmured as the shutters opened. Then a dark shadow flitted across the square of pale sky beyond, and feet landed softly on the floorboards.

  Clouded Sky extended his sword like a bar before the intruder’s chest. Hidden in the deep shadows, his eyes were better adjusted to the darkness inside the room. He was not surprised to see that the intruder wore a reed hat slipped off the head onto the shoulders.

  “Miss Iron, why are you following me?”

  “Dage! You need my help,” Iron Maiden whispered. “The Imperial Sword saw us together today and now he is here to find you.”

  “Here? In Peony Settlement?”

  “Coming up the street.”

  Clouded Sky moved to the open window and peered out, careful not to show himself to watchers below. A thin line of guards, their sabres gleaming in the fitful moonlight, quietly surrounded the tavern.

  “Did they see you?”

  “No, dage.”

  Clouded Sky rubbed his tired eyes. “We’ll have to fight them.”

  “Or we could run away. Where’s your horse?”

  “Unsaddled in the stable.” It was too late to saddle up now. And without Flying Crane, he didn’t have a hope of evading the imperial guards. “Do you have a horse, Miss Iron? How did you get here so quickly?”

  “I used my lightness skill.”

  She seemed to have inexhaustible reserves of qi energy at her disposal. He could well imagine her fleeting tirelessly through the treetops in swift, graceful bounds. But after today’s exertions, his own qi was drained. He’d be lucky to jump from the window to the ground without breaking bones.

  He shook his head. “We need another option.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then, faintly, within the tavern, they heard a soft creak.

  “They’re coming,” Iron Maiden said. “We’ll have to get rid of them some other way. Quickly, hero! Get into bed.”

  “Into bed?”

  “Yes. Quick! Let your hair down. Give me your sword.” Her hands fluttered at him insistently.

  Clouded Sky backed away. “Leave me alone! Are you completely shameless?”

  “Don’t yell, dage. We have to make you look harmless. It’s a strategem. I don’t remember where I heard it, but—”

  Halfway through an indrawn breath, Clouded Sky understood.

  “You mean—Zhuge Liang Playing the Lute.”

  “Is that what it’s called?”

  “Or The Empty Fort. Thirty-Second Stratagem.” He threw her his sword, undid the cord holding his hair in its topknot, and yanked off his coat and boots, leaving them scattered across the floor. Iron Maiden laid the sword next to them. Clouded Sky pointed to the door. “Unlatch it.”

  He rolled into the bed and pulled the blankets over his shoulders. Iron Maiden flitted soundlessly across the room and set the door ajar. Then she melted into the shadows in the corner behind it.

  Clouded Sky half closed his eyes and lay breathing slowly and heavily, counting his heartbeat. His eyes moved ceaselessly from the dim patch of sky beyond the open window, to the dark outline of the cracked door.

  Beyond the door, clothing rustled and blades whispered. Clouded Sky forced himself to go on breathing. In the hush of night, he heard everything with unbearable clarity. There was a soft fumbling at the latch, and Clouded Sky thought the door swung open a little further.

  There was silence.

  On the other side of the door, the intruders paused to consider. The door was open. Why was the door open? A man like Clouded Sky did not leave doors open.

  Standing behind the door, Iron Maiden smiled.

  The imperial guards worked up their courage and pushed the door further open. Iron Maiden shifted her weight a little, raising her palms.

  Outside the room, the imperial guards whispered nervously. Not just the door stood openthe window was open too. Clouded Sky lay in bed sleeping, his sword halfway across the room. A man like Clouded Sky simply did not leave himself open to attack like this. There must be more to the situation than met the eye. Maybe Clouded Sky was drunk.

  Or maybe he was the bait in some awful trap.

  From his bed, Clouded Sky imagined he saw the glitter of eyes at the open door.

  For a moment, the moon found an opening in the dark clouds overhead and the light in the room grew stronger. Pale beams reached through the window and glimmered off the black hilt of Clouded Sky’s sword, lying far out of his reach.

  He stared at it longingly. Maybe he ought to have thought twice before agreeing to this plan.

  The door opened a little further. This time, the hinges groaned. There was a tense silence. Clouded Sky gave up trying to breathe evenly. If they charged, would he make it to his sword in time? Or would he die half-dressed and barefoot like a beggar? Not the way he would have chosen. The silence stretched out. He wished they would just attack. Then the worst happened.

  Iron Maiden laughed.

  In one leap, Clouded Sky sprang from the bed, all his being focused on the sword-hilt. Ages seemed to pass before he reached it. But as he tore it from the sheath and faced the open door with his heart pounding like a hammer, he saw that the mass of bodies outside the door was gone. Instead, panicked footsteps and hurried curses jostled down the stairs.

  “Ambush! Ambush! Run!”

  Beside the door, Iron Maiden slid down the wall and crumpled to the floor, giving her laughter free rein. Elsewhere in the tavern, doors creaked and shutters banged as other guests tried to figure out what was going on.

  “Fire!” some yelled.

  “Thieves!” said others.

  Clouded Sky ran to the window and looked out. Below, men boiled out of the tavern door. Conspicuous in his mask, the Imperial Sword tried to hold them back.

  But his efforts were futile. Iron Maiden rushed across the room and leaned out of the window with her long hair floating free in the wind.

  “Flee!” she screeched. “The Demoness with the Painted Skin has come to eat your hearts!”

  At the sight of this uncanny apparition, the Imperial guards yelled in terror and rushed down the street. Spitting curses beneath his mask, the Imperial Sword was forced to follow them.

  As the guards faded into the distance, Iron Maiden dissolved into laughter once again. Clouded Sky put a hand to his galloping heart and sat down on the bed again, shaking and sweating. “You really ought to restrain your rejoicing, Miss Iron! If their minds had been less clouded by fear, they would have known it was a strategem.”

  She turned away from the window with a smile. “But, dage, we have learned something, haven’t we? They are more afraid of us than we are of them!”

  “Perhaps it would be wise to be afraid of them, Miss Iron.”

  “Perhaps it would be wisest of all to act righteously and rely on Heaven, dage!” Iron Maiden closed the shutters. “We should be safe here tonight. You ought to sleep, Elder. I’ll watch. We have a long journey tomorrow.”

  Clouded Sky blinked. “We have a long journey? May I ask what you mean by that, Miss Iron?”

  “Oh! I’m coming with you to Wudang Mountain.”

  “You’re coming with me to where?”

  “Don’t be so shocked! I’ve always wanted to see Wudang Mountain! Besides, they say Wudang Sect is unparalleled in the martial arts world. If you don’t want to make the journey to Ten Thousand Thorns Temple, then maybe one of your martial brothers will be interested!” She paused. “Besides, it’s my fault the Imperial Sword is hunting you. Since we fought them together, they think I might have recruited you. If we travel to Wudang together, we’ve got a better chance of getting there alive.”

  Clouded Sky imagin
ed what his sect elders might think of Iron Maiden, or worse still, what Iron Maiden might think and then say, about his sect elders. Worst of all, there seemed no respectful way to refuse her. “I can’t prevent you from travelling to Wudang, Miss Iron. But you ought to be more careful. Not everyone at Wudang will be as understanding as I am. If my martial brothers heard some of the things you’ve said to me, you might soon find yourself fighting the whole sect!”

  “All right, hero! I’ll be respectful.”

  Clouded Sky felt no happier. “Who are you, anyway, Miss Iron? Who was your shifu? What’s your real name?”

  “They call me Iron Maiden. I don’t remember anything else.”

  It was too dark to see her face, but he knew she was waiting hopefully for him to agree to her request. Clouded Sky inwardly groaned. If she wouldn’t even tell him her real name or the name of her shifu, how could he trust her?

  But she had saved his life.

  Indeed, she might have been halfway to Wudang by now. She didn’t need to come to Peony Settlement to warn him about the Imperial Sword. Maybe he owed her something after all.

  Besides, if he took her to Wudang, he would be helping her without actually having to help her. Clouded Sky relented.

  “You saved my life, heroine. Thank you. I’ll be happy to take you to Wudang.”

  Heroine. Even in the dark, he sensed her smile.

  “Wake me after three hours,” he directed, sheathing his sword and rolling into the bed. “Then I’ll watch and you can sleep. We’ll leave for Wudang at dawn.”

  It was undignified and unbecoming for a man of Imperial Sword’s stature to give way to anger. Standing before his shamefaced troops in a forest clearing outside Peony Settlement, at first he merely allowed them time to perceive the stiff outrage in his bearing. They were deep in unsubdued Hubei. No allies. No reinforcements. This far from Nanjing, cowardice could be deadly. At last he spoke in a voice full of soft menace.

  “Which part of my orders did you fail to understand? Once you entered by the door, Second Brother and I would enter by the window. Clouded Sky was the only one there. You faced worse danger outside the temple this morning. What do you have to say for yourselves?”