by JC Kang
Her cheeks flushed. Praise from Father was rare, and in public was unheard of. There must have been a reason.
He continued, “Even if you one day learn to sing Dragon Songs, do not use it as a crutch when a moral argument, spoken from conviction in your heart, will suffice.”
Especially if magic was a beacon for a dragon, as the elf Xu suggested. She bowed again. “Yes, Huang-Shang.”
“Remember this lesson well, for even though a woman will never sit on the Jade Throne, she may one day rule as regent.”
Regent? Such a strange thing for Father to suggest. There had been no regent since the Founder’s Consort, who ruled for eighty years in that capacity before dying at the unprecedented age of one hundred and twenty-four.
Kaiya would never assume such a title, but still, Father had offered her rare praise, in front of all the ministers and hereditary lords. Emboldened, she straightened. “What about the remaining year on the trade agreement?”
The Tianzi’s smile faded. “As Chief Minister Tan said, the treaty was negotiated under the imperial plaque. To renege outside of the proscribed stipulations would be tantamount to me forsaking the Mandate of Heaven. Perhaps it would invite another Hellstorm. Do not fear. Less than a year remains.”
Kaiya sighed. Ankira did not have a year. “And if Lord Peng’s suspicions are confirmed, that the Madurans assassinated his father?”
“Of course, such an action would void the agreement.” Father’s gaze lifted from her and settled over the room. “However, my agents believe it is Lord Tong of Wailian County. The rumors many of you have heard are true. Chief Minister.”
Chief Minister Tan stepped forward, prompting Kaiya to kneel. He unfurled a scroll, cleared his throat, and read:
“To Wang Zhishen, Emperor of Hua. The four counties of Wailian, Tieshan, Jinjing, and Hongzhou have long been exploited by the rest of the realm. Our pleas for fairness have fallen on your deaf ears. Therefore, we hereby declare ourselves the independent Kingdom of Fengshan. Withdraw imperial troops from our sovereign land. Not only will any incursion on your part be faced with fierce resistance, we will cut off your firepowder supplies and share the secret formula with your enemies. From Tong Baxian, King of Fengshan.”
A cacophony of angry protests echoed throughout the hall. Kaiya covered her ears to dull the roar.
After a moment, Father silenced them with a single glance. “I will hear your counsel.”
Uncle Han, Tai-Ming lord of Fenggu Province, slammed his hand down on the marble floor. “Huang-Shang, we must crush them immediately.”
Several of the Yu-Ming nodded in agreement, but Tai-Ming Lord Liang of Yutou Province shook his head. “Wailian Castle is impregnable, and those counties monopolize firepowder ingredients. If they sell to potential enemies…”
Kaiya twirled a lock of her hair. This must have been how Ankira felt so many years before.
Tai-Ming Lord Zheng of Dongmen Province cleared his throat. “Huang-Shang, we can blockade the Iron River and cut off their access to ports.”
Lord Liang shook his head again. “Huang-Shang, if Wailian establishes direct trade with Rotuvi, they could access the deep-water port in Iskuvius and use the ships of Serikoth, with whom we do not have a sphere of trade agreement. It would tempt Tarkoth to end its own treaty with us. I advise we normalize relations with this Fengshan and levy tariffs so they can use Jiangkou.”
“Appeasement!” Lord Han tugged his beard. “Huang-Shang, if you let those four counties go, you will only encourage others.”
Xiulan’s father, Lord Zhao, turned back to the lesser nobles. “Almost all the hereditary lords are here. I trust none of them would rise in arms against the Mandate of Heaven?”
All the assembled lords bowed like ripples gliding across Sun-Moon Lake.
“Good,” Lord Han said. “Our combined provincial and imperial soldiers outnumber those four paltry countries thirty to one. Let us crush this rebellion.”
The chamber shook with the confident roars of approval. Kaiya looked up at Father. His face betrayed nothing, which meant there was a possibility of civil war. Thousands would perish. Others would end up in poverty like the Ankiran refugees. Certainly there was another way. She peeked back at Lord Liang, the lone dissenter up to now, and Kai-Long. Their expressions might have been mirror images, staring off into the distance, jaws relaxed. Pensiveness, perhaps, and neither appeared ready to intervene.
And who would? Their voices would fall unheard, drowned out by the roar of bloodlust. Those robust chants, a symphony of voices speaking as…one? She closed her eyes and listened. Yes, there it was, a rhythm in the disparate voices. The pulse of fervent men.
Only the power of your intent can compel the sound beyond its physical limitations, Lord Xu had said not an hour before. Hear the waves of Sun-Moon Lake and allow them to lend you their strength. Holding the rhythm of the men in her heart, she stood. “Huang-Shang.”
The shouts swallowed up her voice. Even standing, she went ignored. No, she could not fail, not now. Toes gripped to the floor, she straightened her spine. Beneath the shaking marble dwelt a resolve, that of the earth, preventing the excitement from descending into cacophonic disorder. Seizing that resolve in her soul, she spoke again. “Huang-Shang.”
The din of men subsided. Father looked at her, eyes wide for the first time she could remember. Yet now that she had everyone’s attention, what had she planned to say? She surveyed all those men, the ones who surely resented a woman—no, a girl not yet blossomed—in their midst. A few started to mutter.
Now was the time to speak, lest her single voice get lost. Speak with the conviction of your heart, Father had said. Tian’s pebble squeezed tightly in her fist, she bowed her head. “Huang-Shang, allow me to marry Lord Tong on the condition that he submit to the Mandate of Heaven.”
Silence.
Enough to consider the weight of her words. She knew nothing of Lord Tong. He was a stodgy Northerner, like General Lu. What if he were even worse? If he were the domineering type, all she’d learned about sound and music these past two days would go to waste. And no matter what, she would never see Hardeep again.
Lord Liang broke the silence. “Huang-Shang, the princess’ suggestion is sound. It will allow us to bring the four counties back into the realm without conflict.”
“Appeasement!” Lord Han said.
Locking eyes on her, Kai-Long—Lord Peng—nodded. “Huang-Shang, I agree with Lord Han. If another lord decides to rebel, there are no more imperial daughters left to marry out.”
Kaiya stared at him. As a diplomat, he’d never advocated war.
“Huang-Shang,” said Tai-Ming Lord Wu of Zhenjing Province, father of Kai-Wu’s bride-to-be. “This is a special case. While no other place in Hua can repel your armies, we could never take Wailian Castle by force.”
Father’s lips curved downward for a split second. “Chief Minister Tan, send a messenger bearing an imperial plaque to Lord Tong. If he agrees to submit to the Mandate of Heaven, the four counties in rebellion will be incorporated into a new Fengshan Province with him promoted to Tai-Ming lord.” He turned and held her gaze, his eyes drooping in defeat. “He will also wed my daughter, placing their future sons sixth in line to the Jade Throne.”
Kaiya stopped herself from twirling a lock of her hair. With an imperial plaque, representing the honor of the Tianzi himself, there was no escaping this marriage.
CHAPTER 27
Bodies of Evidence
Tian paced in the shadow of the Tarkothi ship Indomitable, reconsidering all the evidence they had uncovered over the course of a day. As a mere scribe in the local authorities’ eyes, he’d remained at the periphery of an investigation that both the city watch and the imperial commander quickly deemed the act of a lone assassin.
A boy. His face didn’t look much older than twelve, but he was easily taller and broader than a grown man. Ignoring the snickers and snide comments of passersby, Tian repeated his side of the martial exchange in the a
ir while picturing the boy’s responses in his head. Without a doubt, they were Moquan fighting skills.
Which didn’t explain the murder weapons. Tian held the image of the two crossbow bolts in his mind. The heads were too large to shoot from a Hua repeater, and Jie had heard two crossbows loosed from different positions. Unfortunately, the echo off the water had prevented her from pinpointing the second assassin’s hiding spot. The crossbows used in the attack had yet to be uncovered, and could have belonged to any of the Serikothi or Tarkothi marines. Little Huang Zhen had taken the Eldaeri crossbow Jie’d stolen back to the safehouse. If only they still had one of the bolts extracted from Tai-Ming Lord Peng’s body to test if it fit.
Hua boy. Eldaeri weapon. Two precise shots. Had either Serikoth or Tarkoth hired the assassin and provided the weapon? And for what purpose? Perhaps to frame the other, so Hua would demand changes to the navigation treaties. In this, the Serikothi seemed the more suspicious. Claiming danger, Prince Koryn had refused to cooperate with the investigation and instead returned to his ship and anchored at the mouth of the harbor, guns pointed toward shore. But how could either of those two parties, both arrived the day before, have known when Lord Peng’s ship would dock?
Tian looked toward the Saint Gong, still cordoned off by the city watch. The palanquins remained where they’d fallen, even though the bodies of Lord Peng and his son had already been honorably taken to the capital. Lord Peng had always been kind, before and after Tian’s banishment. The other lords admired him. Maybe his murder had been a message to the Tianzi, and Peng had only been a target of opportunity.
Now, a few men gathered at the head of the dock where the Saint Gong was moored. From the jerky gestures, it appeared to be a merchant arguing with the guards. No closer to making connections than before, Tian went to intervene. At least he could fulfill some of his harbormaster office duties, and get a second, better look at the crime scene.
Up close, the merchant might have been one of the plainest-looking Hua men ever. Middle-aged, brown silk robes, not too short, not too tall… He wouldn’t stand out in a group of plain men. He pounded his walking staff onto the road. “Please, it is just one box.”
“For the tenth time, no.” A lieutenant of the city watch waved a dismissive hand. “No one except city watch or a government official can board this ship until the lead investigator approves. Now move along.”
Tian bowed. “Perhaps I can help?”
The merchant studied Tian’s robes. “Ah, a harbormaster official. Yes, thank you. My company shipped some wares on the Saint Gong. One item is needed for Prince Kai-Wu’s wedding tomorrow.”
“What is your company’s name? And your position?”
“Golden Fu Trading. I am Fu Jinxian, the owner.” He bowed.
Right, the Saint Gong’s manifest had indicated Golden Fu Trading’s three crates and a box. “The Levanthi spice or Ayuri gooseweed?”
The merchant gawked. “All of it. Heavens, you have a good memory. Maybe I could entice you into leaving the harbormaster’s office and entering the private sector.”
“No, no.” Tian waved both hands. “My family sacrificed a lot to get me this job. Let me see what I can do for you.”
“Thank you.” Nodding, Fu kept his eyes on Tian.
Tian turned to the guards, yet peered beyond them at the overturned palanquins. “May I?”
“You can go onto the dock, but not the ship.” The lieutenant pointed at Tian’s sleeve, where the embroidered badge showed his low rank.
Tian frowned. “When will they open this dock?”
The lieutenant shrugged.
Another young man pulled up in a rickshaw. His fine silk robes and jade rings suggested a life of luxury, and his smooth skin and soft-looking hands belonged to a boy who had spent too much time studying, not enough time in the sun. The silk pack slung over his shoulder suggested a traveler, yet flaunting so much wealth with no bodyguards was just asking for trouble. A Prodigal Son, wasting his father’s wealth on adventure, in all likelihood. He looked from a piece of paper to the three-masted trading ship. “Is this the Saint Gong?”
Merchant Fu sighed. “You won’t be boarding anytime soon.”
The Prodigal Son alighted, paid the rickshaw driver, and sent him on his way. He straightened out his robes. “I’ll be working as the quartermaster’s assistant. I’ll just wait until—” His eyes locked in on the fallen palanquins. He pointed at the bloodstains. “What happened here?”
Tian studied him. He didn’t look like the type to survive a day at sea, and must have travelled all day to not hear the news. “Tai-Ming Lord Peng and his son were murdered.”
The Prodigal Son covered his mouth with a hand. “Heavens. Have they caught the killers?”
The lieutenant nodded. “Killer. There was just one. Of course we caught him.”
Of course not. Not both of them at least, and the city watch had arrived well after the Serikothi had slain the one. Tian evaluated the deck of the Indomitable. At that distance, the boy must’ve been an expert with the specific murder weapon. Perhaps he’d been a Hua child raised among the Tarkothi, trained to use an Eldaeri repeater. Yet why would the Tarkothi want Lord Peng dead?
The Prodigal Son motioned to the palanquins. “There had to be at least two assassins, shooting from opposite directions.”
Tian’s eyes darted left to right. How could this newcomer—of course. Why had no one seen it earlier? Lord Peng had fallen on the south side of his palanquin while his son fell on the north. Tian nodded toward the lieutenant. “You said I could go onto the dock?”
Scoffing at the Prodigal Son, the lieutenant motioned Tian by, but stopped Golden Fu and the young man from following.
“Come on, let me through,” Prodigal Son said. “I am Foreign Minister Song’s son.”
The lieutenant snorted. “If you aren’t Foreign Minister Song himself, you’re going to stay off the dock.”
Tian knelt by Young Lord Peng’s blood, now dried into the dock’s stone. He’d been shot in the chest, the bolt lodged deep. The assassin would have had to fire from the north…the deck of the Saint Gong? No, much too close, too sharp of a downward angle, and the bolt had entered…at a rising angle. Tian cursed himself. He’d seen the body from the head of the dock, but hadn’t processed that until now. Neither had the lead investigator or anyone else. It had taken an observation from some wealthy brat, who saw the aftermath and drew conclusions. If the Black Lotus had discovered this kid years before, he might have been recruited.
Walking toward the Saint Gong, Tian estimated the space between the hull and the dock. Certainly wide enough for someone to fit, but how could they hold on to the side and shoot? Without being seen, no less. He would have had to levitate.
Or…if the slain assassin had used Moquan skills, perhaps the second one had similar training. Tian peered over the side of the dock again. If any of the mortar between the stones had been disturbed, it would be a sign of cat claws. Evidence of foot spikes would be down on the side of the dock, some five to six chi. Hard to tell from here—
A glint of sunlight flashed in Tian’s eye from just beneath the waterline, fourteen and a half chi below the top of the dock. He looked back toward the head of the quay, where the guards didn’t seem to care but both Fu and Song were watching with rapt attention.
Tian took off his shoes, robes, and pants, leaving him only in his undergarments and some concealed tools. Hands gripped to the side of the dock, he lowered himself down and probed the stones with his toes. There it was: dust from scraped mortar, and above it, deep indentations in the mortar itself. Evidence of cat claws. Taking a deep breath, he let go and plunged into the icy water, below the spot where whatever it was glinted.
He reached out and caught ahold of a fine cord in the water. With rapid kicks, he dove deeper, grasping the line and counting twenty-one chi to the seafloor, where it wrapped around a stone. Lungs burning, he returned to the surface and gulped air. There, right beside him just beneath the
water, floated a repeating crossbow, tied to the cord.
Now, at low tide, the metal cocking mechanism caught the setting sun’s light. At the time of the attack, the tide had been close to high. The planner had been no legendary Architect, hadn’t taken into account the tides or the fact that the cord fibers would expand in the water. In all likelihood, the crossbow that’d fired the bolt that killed Lord Peng also floated between dock twenty-three and the hull of the Indomitable. It was now a matter of retrieving both weapons before the city watch investigators ruined the evidence.
It would be much easier if Jie were around to help.
CHAPTER 28
Party Crashers
The horse-drawn carriage’s cushions softened the jostling to Jie’s poor aching butt as she accompanied Prince Aryn and his aide Peris from Jiangkou to Huajing. Snake Eyes Peris had protested her place of honor in the prince’s covered carriage, but Prince Aryn just waived off the complaints. The more Jie talked to him, the more likable he became, and the less likely it seemed the Tarkothi were involved in Tai-Ming Lord Peng’s murder.
Even before their departure, he’d opened up the ship to investigators, shown inventory logs of crossbows and bolts. Certainly, those could be misrepresented. However, as Tian had said, the Tarkothi had no way of knowing Lord Peng would arrive at that time, nor did they have any clear motive to kill him.
The Serikothi, on the other hand, had been far less accommodating to the imperial officials. Instead of joining this procession from the harbor, they sat safely aboard their ship at the mouth of the harbor. It looked a lot like a blockade. Jie sighed. If only she could be investigating in Jiangkou with Tian instead of stuck with a foreign prince.
By the time they arrived at Sun-Moon Palace, the sun’s last rays illuminated the sloping blue roofs and high white walls. Jie stared out at it, admiring the beauty.
Prince Aryn leaned over. “I’d wager you never imagined getting so close to your imperial palace, let alone entering it.”