by Anthony Ryan
Vaelin considered some form of obfuscation, finding it doubtful that most men, even a king, would find the truth believable. But he had a sense that this man possessed a very keen ear for dishonesty. “He possessed abilities derived from what my people term the Dark and your people call the Blessings of Heaven,” he said. “Using these abilities he killed Ambassador Kohn and General Gian before being captured. He died as I questioned him, having taken poison before carrying out his mission.”
“And what information did you glean from him before he did so?”
“That our kingdoms are under threat from the creature he served.”
The king’s eyes narrowed, a slight shift in the angle of his head telling Vaelin he may actually have told him something he didn’t already know. “The Stahlhast and their living god,” he murmured. “That is who he served.”
Vaelin shook his head. “I don’t think so. He said the Stahlhast are just a tool but that they served the same master. What its nature is, or where it resides, I know not.”
Lian Sha’s granddaughter let out a loud “hah!” Vaelin glanced over to see her miming out a fight with two of her dolls. The larger doll was evidently some kind of mythical monster with the head of an orange-striped cat and a man’s body, whilst the other wore a soldier’s uniform. The cat-headed doll appeared to be winning.
“You may be wondering,” Lian Sha said, smiling at the child’s antics, “why you are not dead. Why I have not punished you for your most heinous crime.”
Vaelin’s gaze lingered on the battling dolls, watching as the monster pummelled the soldier to the ground before the girl let out another “hah!” and swiftly brought him back to full height. Within a few seconds he had laid the monster low and stood with arm upraised. “You won!” his owner congratulated him. “Now you get all the cakes.”
“I imagine,” Vaelin said, “Your Highness has use for me. I find it is often the way with kings.”
Lian Sha smiled again, inclining his head. “You travelled deeper into my domain than I expected,” he said. “Perhaps you might actually have made it to the High Temple if I hadn’t sent the Red Scouts to intercept you. You were correct in not formally presenting yourself to me on arrival. It would have taken weeks to navigate the web of bureaucrats I employ to protect me from unwanted or unfamiliar petitioners. And what would have been achieved once you had done so? Only a brief audience and a polite refusal. A foreign barbarian requesting leave to traverse my realm on personal business? I could never publicly countenance such a thing. But now, you are my prisoner. By the laws of this land you belong to me, and I may use you as I will.”
“I did not come here to fight your war.”
“No, but come you did. You came for the Healing Grace. That’s what they call her, this woman you seek. A woman so skilled in curing ills and mending wounds it is claimed she too has the Blessing of Heaven. I heard about her some years ago when my daughter lay close to death as she sought to bring another life into this world. My court physicians were appalled, of course. Allowing a foreigner access to a princess of the royal line. A near-blasphemous act in their eyes. I had to execute two or three before they stopped grumbling.”
Vaelin’s eyes returned to the little girl. Her dolls lay forgotten now as she batted a leather ball around with her small hands, tongue poking from her lips as she frowned in concentration. “Sherin delivered her,” he said.
“And saved her mother. By way of reward I offered her riches, enough for her to live out her days in luxury had she wished. But she declined, instead asking for funds to build a healing house in the town where she had made her home. I funded it of course, but still the debt I owe her is substantial. I now consider it partially settled in sparing you.”
Business is the sun and rain, Vaelin remembered. Everything here is measured in debts owed and paid.
“If you would permit me to take her back to the Unified Realm,” he said, “you would repay her in full. If you would but tell me where she is . . .”
The old man laughed, the sound as rich in surprise as mockery. “What a shambling, clumsy people yours must be. So lacking in guile, so devoid of subtlety. It mystifies me as to how your dread Fire Queen conquered so many lands so quickly.”
“Because many who live in those lands consider themselves to have been freed, not conquered. Can any of your subjects say the same?”
He had expected some form of angry retort but the Merchant King merely laughed once more. “Freedom, eh? The freedom to do what? Pay taxes to their queen? Serve in her armies when she commands it? My people realised long ago that freedom is an illusion, a notion best left to the rumination of philosophers. My subjects do not look to me for freedom, they look to me for two things above all else: opportunity and protection. It is to the latter that I now principally concern myself, and why I have use for you. Tell me, what do you know of the Jade Princess?”
“She’s said to have lived for countless years, thanks to the Blessing of Heaven.”
“Quite so. I was a boy when my father sent me to hear her song. Thirty years later I returned and whilst my belly had grown and my beard turned grey, she was as young and fair as before, even her song hadn’t changed. That is what she represents, you see: stasis. She does not change and neither do we. It has long been a belief of my people that the Jade Princess is the embodiment of Heaven’s favour. As long as she resides in the High Temple, our lands, our cities, our songs and wisdom will endure. Wars and famine may have beset us through the ages, the Emerald Empire may have crumbled, but the people of the Far West have always continued to grow and prosper. But now the Stahlhast menace our borders and the Jade Princess is gone.”
Vaelin recalled the final moments with the Messenger, the odd mix of regret and malice. Sherin, gone to minister to the Jade Princess . . . “And the woman I came to find,” he said. “The Grace of Heaven . . .”
“Gone with her. The healer was summoned to the High Temple. A strange request since the Jade Princess is immune to illness, but it was assumed one of her beloved servants had been taken ill so the local Prefect issued the required travel warrant. Within days a messenger arrived informing me the Jade Princess and the Grace of Heaven had vanished. I had the Prefect flogged and dismissed from my service.”
“And all your spies and messengers have no notion of where they went?”
“Just a vague report they were seen travelling north by way of a mountain track. If true, this route will soon take them into the borderlands, where the Steel Horde now raids freely. I simply cannot imagine what could have compelled them to such a course.”
The Merchant King fell silent and moved towards the edge of the island, pausing to play a hand over his granddaughter’s head. She had lost interest in the ball and now amused herself with a wooden top decorated with colourful designs that blurred into a mesmerising spiral as she spun it.
“This park was built at my father’s order,” Lian Sha said, causing Vaelin to blink and look away from the spiral. The old man stood with arms crossed as he regarded the placid waters of the pool and the verdant hills beyond. “It was necessary, for it was here that the greatest damage had been inflicted upon the old palace. The savages of the Iron Steppe came before, you see. A coalition of tribes from the eastern plains. Ironically, it later transpired they had been forced to migrate when the Stahlhast expanded into their lands. So they came for ours, leaving a scar of blood and ash across the Venerable Kingdom that reached all the way to this palace.
“They didn’t understand it, this huge camp of stone that never moved. To them it was sickening, abhorrent, so they sought to destroy it. It’s said three thousand courtiers were herded into the complex of temples that once stood here, to have their throats slit, whereupon the savages set the whole place on fire. When my father eventually vanquished the tribes and deposed the dullard who held a throne he didn’t deserve, he found it odd that this ruined part of the palace had since g
rown rich in grass and flowers. My scholars tell me it’s thanks to the bones of the courtiers. Somehow in their deaths they managed to enrich this soil. So instead of rebuilding the temples, my father ordained that a park be crafted instead. It didn’t endear him to the monks but he was never of a particularly spiritual bent. ‘The monks clutched their beads and beseeched Heaven for deliverance,’ he told me once. ‘But only steel and cunning will be your saviour when the savages are at your door. Remember that when they come again, for they will, my son.’”
Lian Sha paused, silver moustache twitching as his lips formed a smile of fond remembrance. “And so my father is proven once again to have been a very wise man. A war unlike any before is upon this kingdom. The Steel Horde will not stop at our border. The other Merchant Kings delude themselves, imagining the horde will oblige them by destroying a competitor before scurrying back into the Steppe with their spoils. But only a fool thinks the tiger is ever sated. A storm of evil design has come, and to fight it my subjects must believe victory is possible. I have lost an army fighting the Stahlhast, it is true, but by the dawning of the summer months I will have half a million fresh recruits ready to march. The question is, how will they fight?”
“It’s my experience,” Vaelin put in, “that soldiers will fight well if they are well trained and well led.”
“Even if they know the favour of Heaven has been taken from them?” The old man shook his head. “I know the temper of my own people. There have been too many omens of late, too many unseasonal storms, too many sightings of the Harbingers of Heaven.”
“I have heard this phrase before. What exactly are these harbingers?”
“Beings sent by Heaven to warn of impending doom, or so it’s believed. They tend to appear in times of crisis or calamity. For example, a swarm of winged foxes was seen flying over the Qan Li estuary the night before a tidal wave destroyed most of the villages along its banks. In my father’s time a huge bear was witnessed prowling the northern hills shortly before the tribes won their first battle against us.”
“Winged foxes and giant bears.” Vaelin pursed his lips. “I see.”
Lian Sha squinted at him, his eyes betraying a faint glimmer of annoyance. “Is that scorn I hear in your voice? Does the barbarian imagine himself more rational than the people of the Far West? I know a great deal of you and the land you hail from. It is a place where for centuries people have killed each other in the name of ancient scribblings and imagined gods. Do not presume to test my patience with your judgement.”
He turned to Vaelin, his face taking on a masklike immobility that told of a man speaking with utter sincerity. “You think I wish you to fight my war, lead my armies perhaps? What arrogance. I would no more put my soldiers in your hands than place my granddaughter in the clutches of a baboon. No, you will be my hunting dog, Vaelin Al Sorna. You will go in search of the Jade Princess and return her to me. I sent the best trackers in the Northern Prefecture to find her but they scoured the mountains for days with no result. I suspect you might have better luck. If you happen to find the healer with the Princess, then all to the good. I shall even allow you both to depart my kingdom. That is the use to which I will put you, and I will entertain no pretence of refusal. We both know you have no choice.”
More Janus than Arlyn, Vaelin concluded, jaws aching as he clamped his mouth shut to confine any unwise words. Although, Lyrna would have tangled him in her own web. But I am not her.
“I travelled with several companions,” he said when the ache in his jaw receded.
“Yes, and they currently enjoy my hospitality. Take them with you if you wish. If you like, you can even have that vicious bitch from the Crimson Band. I’m afraid I was obliged to send agents to deal with her father. A certain tolerance of the criminal element is a necessary aspect of governance, but his transgression was too great. Like you, she has been left in no doubt that she now belongs to me.”
The Merchant King Lian Sha gave a barely perceptible bow Vaelin recognised from Erlin’s lessons: the dismissal of a noble but minor functionary. Turning, he beckoned to Sho Tsai. “I’ll send the Red Scouts with you,” he said. “My best troops and their commander have a keen interest in the success of this mission. You see, when my daughter lay near death, it was he whom I sent to fetch the healer. He’s been quite terribly in love with the Healing Grace ever since.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tsai Lin.” The young soldier bowed low as he introduced himself, Vaelin judging it the deepest bow he had been afforded since arriving in these lands. “Dai Lo to the Red Scouts.”
“Dai Lo?” Vaelin asked. “I do not know this term.”
“Apologies, lord.” The young man’s head dipped an inch lower. “A Dai Lo is . . . an apprentice, you might say, a student awaiting confirmation as an officer in the king’s army.”
“I see.” Vaelin glanced around the courtyard, his gaze tracking over the three dozen soldiers preparing their mounts for the journey. Sho Tsai moved amongst them, checking gear and ensuring the packhorse loads were securely tied. “Tsai,” he said. “You share a name with the commander.”
“I am honoured to be his son, lord.”
“The third egg in the nest, more like,” one of the soldiers said in a low but audible mutter that drew a snicker from the others. Vaelin was impressed by the fact that the young man’s composure didn’t falter, though he discerned from the rigidness of his features as he straightened that some insult had been suffered.
“The commander has appointed me your bodyguard and liaison for the duration of this mission,” Tsai Lin went on.
“Bodyguard?” Vaelin raised an eyebrow, taking guilty satisfaction from the sudden discomfort on the youth’s face.
“A formal term only,” he stammered, bowing again. “All foreign dignitaries are allotted a bodyguard. Naturally, I would never presume . . .”
“My companions,” Vaelin cut in. “I was assured by the Merchant King . . .”
His enquiry was proven unnecessary by a chorus of cursing from the far end of the courtyard. “Get your hands off me, you heathen fuckers!”
Ellese appeared as the Red Scouts made way for a company of blue-armoured soldiers. She struggled in the grip of two guards, hair an unruly tangle and besmirched features set in a snarl. She quieted on catching sight of Vaelin, however, sagging in the guards’ grip until they released her.
“Thought you were dead,” she said with a chagrined smile, coming forward to embrace him. He didn’t return the embrace or allow it to linger. Her training was still incomplete after all. A spasm of hurt passed across her features as he eased her back, but she regained her composure quickly, standing straight and fixing her face into a neutral mask.
Nortah arrived shortly after, quickly followed by Alum and Sehmon, all equally unkempt and unwashed. Erlin came next. The depredations of confinement seemed to have taken the greatest toll on him, moving with a bowed head and slumped shoulders as the soldiers conveyed him to the courtyard. Truly an old man now, Vaelin thought, taking note of the additional streaks of grey in Erlin’s hair and beard.
Chien was the last to appear, escorted by four guards instead of two and her wrists manacled. She moved with a stiff-backed, blank-faced composure that turned into an icy glare as she caught sight of Vaelin. The stare didn’t waver as the guards removed her manacles, and Vaelin decided it would be an inopportune moment to offer a greeting.
“Dai Lo!”
The young soldier snapped to attention at the voice of his commander, turning and saluting with a closed fist to his chest. “Yes, Dai Shin!”
Horseshoes clattered on the tiles as Sho Tsai guided his horse through the throng, a tall dappled stallion with the long legs of an animal bred for the hunt. “Get the foreigners mounted up and let’s be on our way,” the commander ordered.
“My people need a moment,” Vaelin said, nodding to his companions. “Refreshment and time to
wash.”
Sho Tsai regarded him in silence before nodding to a horse trough. “Wash then,” he said, setting his mount into motion. “And be quick about it. The Merchant King has commanded a speedy resolution to this mission and I have no intention of disappointing him.”
He cantered from the courtyard with the fully mounted company close behind, riding in two neat files. There was a clatter of wood and metal, and Vaelin turned to see a blue-armoured soldier dumping a canvas bundle onto the ground. Upon landing, the canvas fell away to reveal their weapons.
“Well, that’s something,” Nortah observed, retrieving his bow. “At least they didn’t break anything.”
“Lord, if you would,” Tsai Lin said, gesturing to where grooms held the reins of seven saddled horses. “We cannot linger.”
Vaelin nodded, halting Ellese and Sehmon in their tracks as they moved to the trough. “Get your gear and mount up,” he instructed. “Wash later. A bit of stink won’t kill you.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“Is this whole country just one never-ending city?” Alum wondered, gazing around at the unceasing maze of close-packed buildings. The hour was early but the streets were still busy with people, all quick to shuffle to the side with bowed heads as the soldiers rode by. It had been over an hour since the Red Scouts departed the Merchant King’s palace and there was still no sign of an end to the city.
“Muzan-Khi is the largest city in the Far West,” Erlin said. “Which makes it probably the largest city in the world.” He spoke in a tired drawl and sat hunched in the saddle with a decidedly grey pallor to his sagging features.