by JC Kang
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintended.
Copyright © 2017 by JC Kang
http://www.jckang.info
[email protected]
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof in any way whatsoever, as provided by law. For permission, questions, or contact information, see www.jckang.info.
Cover Layout and Maps by Laura Kang
Logos by Emily Jose Burlingame
Cover Art by Bob Kehl:
http://www.bobkehl.com
Map of Cathay
Part 1
Jie’s eyes stung, and the duel had nearly claimed her fingers, but she’d finally vanquished the last of the onions. Just in time, too, as Lord Shi’s seven-year-old son, Ren, reached for the platter of candies. He tripped over a rock and stumbled toward the roasting pig in the fire pit. With a sweep of her hand, she caught him by his silk sleeve, avoiding an unsavory addition to dinner.
The servants’ collective gasp might’ve sucked all the air from the outdoor kitchen.
Nursemaid Lan covered her mouth in a silent scream. When she finally found her voice, her tone straddled anger and relief. “Sneaking out again? If you don’t behave, Young Lord, the Black Fists will kidnap you and turn you into a sneak-thief.”
Jie buried a snicker. Frustrated mothers leveled the same empty threat in every home throughout the realm. Never had an unruly child been spirited away in the middle of the night by the boogieman.
As the adopted daughter of the Black Lotus clan master, she’d know. After all, most Black Fists were orphans like her; and rather than becoming thieves, they served as the Emperor’s spies, defending the realm from threats the citizenry would never know about.
Threats like Ren’s father, Lord Shi.
She straightened the wailing brat’s embroidered green robes. The only thing the pudgy kid could defend the realm from was the legions of sweets he ravaged. She knelt down and pressed his next conquest—a sugar pastry—into his palm. With only the rebukes of the Black Lotus masters to draw on, she summoned her most mothering voice. “No bones broken, no tendons torn, you’re okay.”
Either her words and gentle tone had soothed him, or maybe the candy could take credit. The lordling grinned with fat cheeks. Bits of tongue pressed through the gaps in the lines of enameled soldiers. His adult teeth might never replenish his ranks for his war of attrition against sweets.
After all, he’d likely die in the imperial army’s surprise assault.
“He’s a clever one. Always sneaking out.” The nursemaid’s gaze raked over Jie’s dirty cotton dress, pausing at her pointed ears. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Miss Lan. I’m Jie.” Jie sucked her lower lip and finger-combed hair over her ears. It’d been so long since she’d mingled with non-clan members, she forgotten how heavy the stares weighed. “I just started yesterday.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never seen an elf—half-elf—before.” Lan cast her eyes down, then looked up with a smile too genuine for even a Black Lotus master to fake. She pulled out two hairpins and proffered them. “This will help hide your ears. If that’s what you want.”
Jie stared at the pins, made of lacquer with inlaid mother-of-pearl. They were probably the young woman’s most prized possessions. Perhaps it was an act of atonement, or maybe she wanted to exchange pins to declare sisterhood like girls often did. Not that Jie could part with the lockpicks and throwing spikes that held up her hair. She closed the woman’s hand around them. “They’re beautiful, but I couldn’t...”
Lan bowed her head. “My thanks for saving the Young Lord. He’s fast and naughty, and wants to talk to the miners and explore the mines. It takes all of us to ensure he doesn’t run off into the camp.” She pointed to the haphazard sprawl of tents and hastily-constructed wood buildings just beyond the cooking area, spiraling out from the central keep like a web spun by a drunken spider.
Jie followed the gesture. Men milled about, pickaxes and shovels in hand. The layers of soot and dirt clinging to their trousers, shirts, and skin made the workers indistinguishable from one another. How sad their circumstances must’ve been for them to agree to work underground from sun up to sun down.
Her eyes tracked one team’s line back to a mine, the one heavily guarded by soldiers armed with muskets. The same group of burly men always worked there, bringing in crates from other mines. Flashes periodically blinked like lightning from inside. The other laborers’ speculations ranged from gas igniting to the snores of the mythical guardian dragon.
Whatever was down there had to be the reason why Lord Shi had occupied foreign territory, outside the protection of the Great Wall, without permission from the Emperor. Unless the clan solved this mystery within two days, the imperial army would sweep in and punish Lord Shi at the point of a spear. Even if they weren’t the intended targets, the poor miners and servants might catch an errant arrow or find themselves trampled under a horse hoof.
The senior-most maid, Fei, lowered the platter of roasted meats and autumn vegetables. She leaned against Jie. “You’re handy with a knife. I’m happy you’re here to help. As long as you remember that he’s mine.” With a grin, she pointed her chin at a cook.
The cook’s pot belly suggested he spent a little too much time tasting his work. He turned and puckered his lips in their direction. “Hurry, Fei. The lord is entertaining foreign guests, and my masterpiece is getting cold while you chatter.”
“I’ll take it.” Jie swept the platter from Fei’s hands. With a quick bow to her gawking colleagues, she trotted down the hard-packed path. At last, here was a chance to get close to Lord Shi, and maybe find out just why he risked antagonizing both his foreign hosts and the emperor. She’d been long relegated to mission lookout due to her superior senses; this important task was a first chance to prove elvish features didn’t compromise her infiltration skills.
Red banners with the Great Wall insignia of Chengfu County lined the road, casting long shadows in the setting sun. It took only a minute to reach the open doors of the three-tiered main keep. Though structurally complete, its steeply-pitched tile roofs and plaster walls had yet to be painted. Guards in lamellar armor and steel helms, armed with spears and broadswords, waved her through.
Unshuttered light bauble lamps illuminated the plain wood and plaster walls. Designed to deter spies, the floorboards chirped like a nightingale, even under her light weight. A hallway in the Black Lotus Temple was similarly floored, so the adepts could practice crossing without a sound; still, it took practice to find the right places to step in any given castle, and right now, with so many eyes around, she’d look ridiculous tiptoeing around and letting the snacks get cold.
At another set of double doors stood the middle-aged steward in light red robes, flanked by two guards. One stood out with his fair hair and pale skin. His blue surcoat with its yellow eagle crest marked him as a royal guard from the Kingdom of Rotuvi, Lord Shi’s ostensible host.
The steward glared at her. “What kept you so long, girl? And where’s Fei?”
Girl? Curse the elf blood in her veins, making her appear less than half her twenty-nine years. Jie dipped her head in contrived remorse. The food would’ve arrived earlier had she let the Lord’s son burn off his baby fat.
With a last scathing glance, the steward slid the doors open and hustled her in. “Jue-ye, refreshments have arrived.”
A cool autumn breeze drifted in through the unshuttered windows to the left, and blew dust from the exposed beams in the ceiling. Unlike the rest of the keep
, this room boasted decorations worthy of a lord. An elaborately carved writing desk, with a stack of rice paper and several brushes, stood against the wall directly across from the entrance. Brush paintings and calligraphy hung in long scrolls between the windows. Magic imbued into the script and images evoked a sense of calm and deference, though clan training in resisting such magic muted the effect on Jie.
The middle-aged foreigner, however, looked to be under their spell. Eyes glazed over, he slouched in a bloodwood chair angled to the side of a small matching table. On the other side, Lord Shi sat perfectly straight, his red robes doing little to hide the rotund belly his son was working hard to match. The gentle arc of the chairs suggested friendly equality, even if magic put the two on uneven footing. Neither looked to have touched their cups of rice wine.
“Come, girl, serve Ambassador Borivoi.” Lord Shi beckoned her, his sausage fingers waving as his eyes focused on the platter. He switched to Arkothi, the language of the North, which she’d pretended not to understand when the steward hired her. “Ambassador, please enjoy some of Cathay’s cuisine.”
Ambassador Borivoi’s eyes shifted from the platter to the lord. “I would certainly enjoy it more if we were eating in Cathay, instead of Rotuvi’s territory.”
Jie treaded across the soft wool rug and knelt by the table. Holding the tray in one hand, she chopsticked choice slices of roasted meat onto a small plate beside the ambassador.
How easy this was! Perhaps the Black Lotus Clan’s legendary Beauty, one of three young masters struck down on an ill-fated mission thirty years before, had started with a mission like this. Jie worked at the deliberate pace of a Tai Chi master.
“Ambassador, your gracious king agreed to let me come.” Lord Shi gestured out the window. “Look how many of your people are now working the mines instead of fomenting rebellion.”
The ambassador shook his head. “He did not give you permission to build a castle, or to plant crops. Nor to bring armed men.”
“We must keep order, after all, and protect the mines. We also need to feed everyone.” He leaned in. “As your king and I agreed, we will split the gold, fifty-fifty. Our mining and farming expertise will turn these barren hills into your country’s most profitable region.”
Jie set a plate before Lord Shi. So Lord Shi was looking for gold. No amount of it was worth risking the wrath of the emperor.
The ambassador leaned back, creating distance. “We have yet to see any gold, nor have you explained the fortress.”
“My geomancer tells me we are very close to a major vein. Please have patience.” Lord Shi produced a nugget, half the size of a thumb, and pressed it into the ambassador’s palm.
Jie nearly dropped a braised carrot. Geomancers deceived the superstitious by peddling their expertise in feng shui for architecture. The only gold they ever located came from other people’s purses.
And indeed, the rock was pyrite. Fool’s gold.
The ambassador’s hand closed around the worthless nugget. “The fort tells me you have found something already. The food supply suggests you plan on staying a while. You have two days. If we do not receive ten thousand kroons, our army waiting across the river will come and seize your mines and crops.” The ambassador was apparently better at diplomacy than direction; he was pointing the wrong way.
Jie sucked on her lower lip. Little did either man know that Cathay’s Imperial Army of the North waited on the other side of the Great Wall. They were ready to sweep in and punish Lord Shi within two days as well, if Jie didn’t give them a reason to call off the assault. Still, they wouldn’t suffer a foreign army doing the work for them, so there was no telling who they’d attack. No matter what, the shanty town and its innocent denizens would be caught in between.
Part 2
Jie had swiped the pyrite from the ambassador’s pocket as he left, and now turned it over in her hand. Crouched by the door to the main keep’s armory, she wondered if Lord Shi knew his find was worthless. To think he was risking a slow death for nothing.
She pocketed the pyrite and pulled the lockpick from her hair. With a few quick twists, the lock yielded. Up to now, she could reasonably say she got lost. Entering the armory, with no escape route, could mean trouble. She took a quick look down the corridor. Nothing. Only floorboards chirping in the distance. Pushing the door open, she slipped in.
Her elf vision only revealed blurry shapes in shades of green. The armory must’ve been well to the interior of the castle, maybe partially underground. Leaving the tray of food inside the door, she shut it and crept in.
She produced her own light bauble from a pocket sewn in her sleeve, illuminating the room.
Muskets, spears, broadswords, and repeating crossbows hung from hooks on the walls. Several bundles of crossbow bolts, crates of musketballs, and kegs of firepowder stood in orderly rows.
“Hello,” a high-pitched voice called from the entrance.
Jie’s heart leaped into her throat. How had she not heard someone approach on the nightingale floors, or even open the door? She spun around, hand reaching for her bladed hairpin.
At the entrance, the lord’s son crouched by the tray of food. A slice of roast pork disappeared into his mouth.
Logic said to not leave witnesses. Kill the boy, hide the body. They’d think he ran off to the mines. Any number of weapons were well within reach.
No, there had to be a better way. All kids liked games, even at the temple where they played Pin the Knife in the Donkey and Dodge Blades. She hustled over to the lordling. “I was playing Hide-and-Go-Stalk with Nursemaid Lan. Do you want to join?”
His expression brightened like a Black Fist trainee receiving his first throwing star.
“But first, promise you won’t tell anyone you saw me. I’ll bring you candy.”
If he nodded any faster, he’d give himself a concussion.
She turned back to the room. “Let’s play the counting game. Twenty muskets—”
“Two hundred muskets, three thousand musketballs, five hundred swords, three hundred spears, two hundred repeaters. Yay, I win!”
It was all Jie could do not to gawk. Some clan members could count on sight, though only after years of training. She pointed down the hall. “The floors sing. I didn’t hear you come.”
“I’ll show you.” He grinned.
Out in the hall, the boy zigzagged on his tiptoes, in a repeating pattern. Jie followed his lead, never once eliciting a chirp. Maybe he’d been trained as spy, and he’d betray her.
She reached for her bladed hairpin. No. No child his age in the clan could replicate this feat. She withdrew the pyrite and gave it to him. “Young Lord, it’s your turn. See if you can collect some shiny rocks like this before anyone finds you. I’ll give you a head start.”
“Easy!” He dashed down the hall, sending the floorboards into a chorus of chirps.
She trailed a distance behind him, pausing at corners and listening for his tittering footsteps. He wasn’t heading toward the entrance, but rather in the direction of Lord Shi’s quarters. Maybe the foolish lord had a whole chest of fool’s gold.
At the end of the corridor, the boy pushed against a blank space on the wall. Lines of light appeared first, then a secret door swung open. An escape route, in all likelihood. Jie waited a few minutes before following. Light baubles illuminated a long passage, which emerged out on a hillside. The iridescent moon, never moving from its reliable spot in the south, hung just ahead, waxing to half. The boy’s red robes flashed in the twilight as he disappeared down a path. She sprinted after him.
She came to a ridge, which he was just starting to climb down. Maybe it would’ve been better to let him stumble and break his neck, leaving no witnesses to her spying. No. She reached down and grabbed his wrist. “It’s too late now. We can play again tomorrow. Is this where you can find the shiny rocks?”
Head bobbing, he pointed.
At the base of the ridge was an unguarded mine. Beside it stood an enormous dome of brick
s, with wisps of smoke just barely visible in the low light. From the stench of it, they were cooking rotten eggs. Just beyond that, mounds of dirt smoldered as well.
“What is it?”
The boy shrugged. “They get the pretty rocks from the cave. They put them in the oven.”
Jie sucked on her lower lip. Perhaps Lord Shi was trying to melt out gold from pyrite, a failing proposition for sure.
“Come on, we’ll play again tomorrow. Remember, it’s our secret.” She took the kid’s hand. It felt plump and smooth compared to the clan children’s calloused palms, but it still felt…nostalgic.
Part 3
Jie peered out from the wooden hovel she shared with several other female servants. The iridescent moon waxed toward its second gibbous, indicating that it was about four hours before midnight. Nothing stirred in the sprawl of tents, save for the occasional scurrying of a rat. She had an hour to deliver a report to the clan courier waiting at the edge of the camp. Yet, having told the steward she couldn’t read, she hadn’t risked bringing paper or writing instruments.