by Jeannie Lin
A hand grabbed her roughly, tugging on the silken robe. It was Zheng again. He forced her to the ground and threw himself on top of her. His knee wedged between her thighs. She tried to claw at him, but he pinned her arms against the jagged ground.
‘Hold!’ It was Badger that spoke. ‘Back off, Zheng. You saw it.’
Zheng’s grip tightened defiantly on her wrists. ‘It means nothing.’
‘She’s been marked,’ Badger insisted.
Zheng returned his attention to her, his gaze cold. ‘The mark of a traitor means nothing.’
The tattoo. The assassins of An Ying spoke in language and codes of conduct that no one else could understand.
Jun came close. ‘You have much to answer for if you touch her.’
He clenched his fists so tight that they shook, but there was nothing the youth could do against the two more experienced assassins. Zheng sniffed dismissively, but his wiry companion came up behind him. His long shadow fell over her eyes.
‘Release her,’ Badger said. ‘She’s untouchable and you know it.’
Suyin clutched the edges of her robe together the moment Zheng’s grip loosened. He removed himself from her, but his eyes clamped on to her.
Jun moved to help her stand, but she refused his hand. Of the entire household, she’d been kindest to the boy. His attention had seemed so genuine that she’d left herself vulnerable. Apparently she wasn’t immune to deception either.
Horses had been stowed in the brush along with travel packs. Suyin fought a wave of panic. The assassins were taking her far away. She prayed that the swordsman Wang and the rest of the bodyguards would organise a search party—if they had survived.
Jun stayed close, as if he could still fulfil his promise to Li Tao to take care of her. He held out a cloak. ‘Put this on.’
‘I won’t accept anything from you.’ She clutched the torn silk to her breast as the men prepared the horses.
‘Lady Ling, please.’
His words held no hint of plaintiveness. Jun was hardly the awkward boy he had affected so flawlessly. The look of innocence was gone, replaced by a hardness that set her on guard.
‘You were one of them all along,’ she said. ‘Ever since Auntie took you in.’
‘Yes.’
‘A frail helpless orphan.’
Jun smirked. ‘What would the great Li Tao have to fear from a cripple?’
It was more than that. Lao Sou knew what Li Tao had been, the streets that he had prowled. The Old Man had held up a mirror to Li Tao and he had been unwittingly fooled by his own image.
She watched Badger and Zheng as they readied the horses. According to their account, they had sacrificed many others last night in order for Jun to be able to steal her away. The Old Man wanted Li Tao alive.
She needed to work out which one of these men was the most dangerous. The two larger men were brutes, used for ramming through fortress gates and scaling walls. They had nothing like the stealth of Li Tao or Jun. Li Tao had hidden within the Emperor’s army for years. Jun was possibly even more skilled.
‘Not many people can fool me,’ she said coldly. ‘That takes a special breed of treachery.’
Jun fell silent and she saw a trace of the same austere discipline that had been instilled in Li Tao. He stood rigid beside her, battling within himself. He was uncomfortable with her anger. Jun might be a trained assassin, but he’d been fed on Auntie’s kindness. It gave her a small spark of hope.
He held out the cloak once again. ‘Take this.’
Badger came up to them, ending the argument by grabbing the wool and jerking it over her shoulders roughly. ‘Zheng needs no more encouragement.’
Despite her defiance, the cloak provided a semblance of comfort, some armour against these dangerous men. She stared at the spot where Zheng waited by the horses. The memory of him pinning her against the ground made her go cold. She longed for Li Tao so much it hurt, but he was far away, occupied with the approaching armies.
Had anyone been left alive? Inwardly, she wept for Auntie, for Cook, for the servants who had become like family. She prayed for their safety.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked.
Badger answered, direct and simple. ‘The Old Man wants to meet you.’
He took a knife from his belt and slashed a line on to a nearby tree before directing her towards the horses.
Chapter Twenty
Luoyang—AD 739
20 years earlier
After his third job, Feng invited Tao to join his gang. When Tao refused, Feng sent a gutter rat after him, someone larger, more experienced, but not as desperate to draw his next breath. The first rat, then the second, turned up dead and Feng stopped cluttering the alleys with his urchins.
Tao never joined any of the other street gangs. He didn’t want the shackles of such an association even for the protection it provided. He worked the dark corners and outskirts of the territories, carving out his own domain.
One night he found a grey man in a grey robe leaning in one of his corners.
‘Old man,’ he called out.
‘Young boy.’ The street lanterns revealed a twist of a smile on the old man’s face.
He took no offence even though he was no longer a boy. Pride could be deadly in these streets.
‘I am looking for the one they call Tao.’
‘That is me.’
The old man’s eyes gleamed with enjoyment. The oddness of it made Tao slip his knife into his hand while he hung back in the shadows.
‘Just Tao? Not Tao the Knife or Tao the Tiger?’
The grey man shook with laughter, utterly at ease in the back streets, which meant he was drunk or mad or dangerous.
‘Who are you?’ Tao demanded.
‘You had it right from the start. They call me “Lao Sou”.’ Old Man.
‘I have never heard of you.’
‘No one has.’
Tao stepped back and his gaze darted to the rooftops, to the far end of the alley. He saw nothing, heard nothing, but he knew the grey man was not here alone.
‘I have a job for you, Tao the Silent.’
‘Tonight?’
The Old Man chuckled. ‘No, no. Not until you’re ready. Put away your knife and walk with me.’
She knew the sound of water, even from a distance. The ebb and flow of it grew louder as they rode. They must be nearing the banks of the Jin. They veered into the thick of the forest, dismounting to continue on foot.
‘You’re not going to cover my eyes?’ she asked.
Zheng snorted. ‘An Ying is everywhere. We can disappear like the blowing wind.’
‘How poetic,’ she remarked blandly.
He shoved her forwards. The forest gave way to a stone path, encroached and overgrown with roots. The broken tiles led to a sudden part in the trees to reveal the face of a once-grand temple. The cracked paint lent it a hint of antiquity, a venerable sheen.
Zheng clamped a hand on to her shoulder. She shook him free and stepped forwards of her own volition, searching among the pillars and alcoves. There had been sliver of movement among the shadows, she was certain of it. Jun’s hand slipped to the knife in his belt.
‘You’ve never seen Lao Sou, have you?’ she asked.
‘Few have,’ Jun replied.
‘Yet you serve him above the people who cared for you.’
‘Don’t let her bewitch you, boy,’ Badger drawled from behind them.
She slid him a look over her shoulder and Badger flashed a crooked smile. An Ying was an odd collection of characters.
They stepped around the broken incense urn in the yard. A set of weathered steps led to the open doors. Zheng took hold of her again as they crossed the threshold. She peered through the dimly lit interior to the man seated where the altar once stood. The effect of it was akin to an emperor on his throne.
‘Fine work, young Jun,’ he said.
Li Tao had told her that Lao Sou preferred to wear drab clothing and disappear unnotic
ed in a crowd, but the man before her was dressed like a nobleman, his robe richly embroidered and of the finest silk. His face remained shadowed.
‘The notorious Ling Guifei honours us with her presence.’
‘Lao Sou,’ she greeted. ‘Your servant has his hand on me. I beseech you to have him remove it.’
‘Zheng, show respect for our guest.’
His hand tightened momentarily, anger vibrating through his fingertips. Then, without a word, he let her go. And just like that rank was established. She met Lao Sou’s gaze with a look that said, We are equals, you and I. Even though he held all the power.
He beckoned her with a wrinkled hand. ‘Come closer.’
She stepped on to the raised platform, noting how he was alone in the chamber. No, not alone. Once again, she caught a ripple of movement in the niche of the altar. Lao Sou didn’t want to appear as if he needed protection, but there was no way to tell how many guarded him.
‘Closer, closer. I am not the demon Li Tao described.’
He remained seated, his head tilted as if gauging each step. His eyes remained unfocused and blank. Blind. Li Tao had not told her that. How did a blind man command the respect of this horde of murderers and spies?
‘Li Tao never spoke of you as a demon.’
He raised a thick grey eyebrow. ‘No? What did he say?’
‘That you would come for him some day.’
He nodded, seemingly pleased, and a wave of powerlessness swept over her, weakening her resolve. It was as Li Tao had said. They were being manipulated, their fate not entirely their own.
‘Come closer, my lady.’
Lao Sou pushed off against the arms of the chair and stood, reaching out to her sightlessly. She found herself obliging him, taking his arm as if he was an old grandfather rather than the killer she knew he was.
‘My eyes are old and dim. I have never regretted it so much as now.’ He chuckled softly as he gestured toward the adjoining chamber. ‘I would have liked to look upon Ling Guifei’s renowned beauty.’
The old man led the way to a second chamber and they left Jun standing with Badger and Zheng in the centre of the room. The arm beneath hers was tough with wiry muscle and his step was agile and confident. He needed no assistance, she realised. Lao Sou was holding on to keep control of her.
A guard stood just inside the room. She saw no weapon, but she didn’t doubt that he was armed. He remained silent with the dark-eyed lethalness of a predator. This was what she had expected from the clan.
The chamber was furnished lavishly in contrast to the spare altar room. The Old Man seated her himself, pulling out a chair at the table for her before seating himself. She watched as he placed two cups before them, gauging the distance with his fingers before pouring wine from the jug.
‘Li Tao will not come for me,’ she began.
‘He will.’
‘He is not a sentimental man. If I were of any value, he would never have let me go.’
Her heart ached, yet she continued to torment it. Maybe if she heard the truth enough times from her own lips she would finally accept it. Li Tao knew what was important and he chose his battles carefully. They had said their farewells. She should consider it a blessing that he wasn’t the sort to rush in to save her. It would mean his death.
Lao Sou folded his hands before him. ‘What you mistake for coldness is single-mindedness. He cares for you more than you know. I’ve been paying close attention.’
‘With your spies?’
He reclined in his chair, more than pleased with himself.
As much as she wanted to see Li Tao again, she prayed the old man was mistaken. She was fighting for her life and the life of her child. Li Tao couldn’t also fall into this madman’s grasp. She needed to find a way to escape on her own.
‘I know Li Tao better than you,’ she challenged. ‘You never thought he would betray you for the August Emperor.’
Her remark seemed to wound him. He frowned, but then shrugged and took a sip of his wine. ‘Li Tao has marked you with our symbol. The dragon and the pearl.’
She touched a hand to her shoulder. The tattoo lay just beyond her reach. The memory of the needles made her skin tingle. She had never seen her design. She only knew it was a rough likeness of the symbol inked on to Li Tao’s body.
‘Do you know what the pearl represents?’ Lao Sou asked.
‘No.’
‘It’s a mystery. A powerful mystery. The dragon doesn’t know what it is, but he chases it anyway.’ He nodded with satisfaction. For a moment, it appeared as if his eyes actually focused on her. ‘That mark means he will come for you.’
Li Tao knew the moment his scouts reported that the wagons were returning. He took a horse out to intercept them and the look of defeat in his soldiers’ eyes told him what had happened. Auntie was speechless with grief. She tried to call out to him as he dug in his heels, riding hard in the direction they’d come from.
The horse’s stride pounded out a rhythm against the dirt road. In his head, Li Tao retraced his mistakes. The clan had remained dormant for so long. The armed escort was only a cautionary measure. He should have known his former master would strike now, when he was vulnerable. Part of him must have known. He had given Suyin the mark of the clan as a last defence. It was a promise written in blood and now he had to deliver.
The swordsman Wang had not returned with the others. He and the other elite guards had stayed to scour the area, but they would never find Suyin. The An Ying clan would move quickly. Their minions would scatter like ghosts in the daylight.
Li Tao returned alone to the location where Suyin had been taken. The assassins had left behind their marks on the trees. Their secret language. Lao Sou wanted to be discovered, but only by Li Tao. So he followed them.
Like a dog baring his throat to slaughter.
The music came through the forest, lilting notes that drifted into a song meant only for him. He recognised Suyin’s skilful touch on the strings. Li Tao dismounted and walked towards the sound. At last, Suyin had the grand gesture she’d asked for, except it wasn’t before the Emperor as she’d intended.
Your woman is still alive, his former master was saying. Come to me if you wish to see her again in this life.
His armies awaited his command at the front line, but instead he’d come here. This was the price he paid for letting Suyin inside. If he ignored the Old Man now, she would be the one to pay.
The music guided him to an abandoned temple. The columns were painted red, though the colour had faded and the woodwork had warped and cracked. Li Tao stood at the open doors, alone as he had been in the streets of Luoyang when Lao Sou had first come to him. He had always been able to empty his head in those dank alleys. He would block out the emptiness in his belly and the chill in his fingers, and simply survive. This moment was not so simple.
He stepped beyond the threshold into the darkened interior. The shelves and altars were empty of the customary statues and relics that adorned such temples. Instead of offerings of rice and tea, there was only dust. The air was clogged with it.
Li Tao found Suyin immediately. She sat at a low table, a focal point of sound and colour, wearing the same blue silk she’d worn when challenging him beside the gorge. He should have known then he’d fall to her. Her fingertips were poised over the qin. The song halted and she looked up at him, her eyes growing wide with surprise.
The Old Man sat beside her in the temple alcove. His men were stationed around the chamber as if he were holding court. These cold-hearted killers would cut out Li Tao’s heart on a single command from the Old Man, but they faded before him. There was only Suyin.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
She shook her head. Her palms flattened over the strings, fingers splayed to still the last murmurs of sound. Her lips parted in shock.
‘I thought—’ She swallowed, fixing her gaze on to him and delving deep, deeper than he’d ever allowed anyone. ‘You’re here.’
She had d
oubted he would come. The pain of that doubt cut deep. He bled inside.
‘Of course,’ he said evenly.
‘You shouldn’t have come.’ She met his eyes with an odd, pleading look, trying to speak without words. He couldn’t understand.
‘Li Tao.’ The Old Man spoke his name like a grand proclamation. ‘It’s been fifteen long years.’
The attention of the entire chamber focused in on him as a single target at the centre. He sensed a mix of emotions: awe, anticipation and fear. So he still had a reputation.
One face among them was blatantly familiar. Jun. The one who had betrayed them. Li Tao marked him with a stare, but Jun refused to flinch.
Li Tao returned his attention to the old man at the front. ‘You have something that belongs to me.’
Lao Sou’s arm rested across the edge of the Suyin’s table. The placement of it was like the casual drape of a lion’s paw over its prey.
‘I told Ling Guifei you would come for her across the span of the earth. Tell me, is she beautiful?’
‘Yes, she is.’ The sight of her would always take his breath away.
Lao Sou turned to Suyin next. ‘Is he kneeling?’
She looked to him. ‘No,’ she replied softly.
‘No,’ Lao Sou echoed with a drip of venom.
The years had worn his old master to the bone. He seemed gaunt, grey, the lines in his face cut deeper. Apparently Lao Sou was blind now as well, but still far from harmless.
‘When I found you, you were a stray wandering the gutters.’ Only the flex of the Old Man’s fingers against the corner of the table hinted at his anger. ‘I gave you an assignment and you failed.’
‘I made a choice.’
‘You have no choice!’
Lao Sou’s voice thundered through the chamber. Suyin jumped at his sudden outburst and the entire assembly hushed.
It was true that Li Tao had been nothing when he was taken from the streets. Lao Sou had trained him patiently. Some would say, as a father might a son. Then his master had sent him to the imperial army to die without a qualm.