by JC Kang
Jie’s lips twitched, and her gaze roved over what must be his disheveled hair, but her expression quickly transformed into one of seriousness. “I spent the night in the Teleri embassy. I entered on the arm of General Marius, then made sure he enjoyed a long slumber. I am sure he is waking up with a bad headache and a very poor recollection of yesterday’s events.”
Heat rose to his face. She couldn’t have…
“N-no. I-I did not.” Her face flushed bright red.
“Sorry,” Tian said. He’d made too many assumptions. He’d even believed Jie was a mole. What was he thinking?
“Never mind. I learned from Marius that the senior-most Keeper of the Shrine is here, though I couldn’t find out why.”
Was she really on a first-name basis with the general? “The senior-most? Important. Was it worth it? Risking yourself and worrying me…us…all night? Why didn’t you slip out earlier?”
Jie gesticulated in exaggerated stabs and circles. “I was hiding and got stuck in the war room as their officers came and went. The bulk of their army is less than a day away, and they are moving soldiers to strategic points in the city.”
Tian rose to his feet, pulling the wrinkles from the sleeves of his stealth suit. “The noose is closing around the city. I’d hoped to get the princess aboard the Golden Phoenix last night—”
“Let me guess, she refused?”
If only his simple nod could convey what had transpired.
Jie sighed. “I also overheard the First Consul talking about her last night. He hates her for her defiance, and he wants to possess her. He told his officers to draw up plans for her capture once the city is secured.”
“What? Does he not know we have guns? We have enough provisions to hole up in this compound. For a year if need be. Plus the imperial guards. We are safe here.”
Jie shook her head. “What do we do after a year? They outnumber us here, and our homeland is too far away to be a credible threat.”
“You’re right. However, we are still more powerful at sea. Let’s get her aboard the Golden Phoenix.” Hopefully, the her didn’t sound as acidic enough as it tasted in his mouth.
Jie shook her head again. “The Teleri have secured the docks with over two hundred men. They are allowing us to bring cargo aboard, but they are checking everything.”
Tian sighed. They’d lost the one easy opportunity to get the princess aboard. Of course the Teleri would bolster security after his team’s attack last night.
Jie sucked on her lower lip. “Our compound is under constant watch. If we raise suspicions that we know of their plot—”
“Time is short,” Tian said. “Assemble the senior staff. In the ambassador’s office. I will inform the princess myself.”
After Jie left, Tian changed into robes and combed out his hair, then headed to the princess’ quarters.
Even at that early hour, music emanated from behind the closed door. The short strumming sounds of the pipa, a Hua lute, melded with the long hum of the erhu, a two-stringed bowed instrument. Not wanting to disturb the music, he quietly pushed the door open and slipped in.
In the corner of the anteroom, two of the handmaidens plucked at pipas, while another played the erhu. In the middle of the room, the princess glided through classical movements, seemingly lost in her dance. She wore a simple white sleeping robe, her hair cascading loosely over her shoulders to her waist. Even without her make-up, she was stunning.
Tian stood mesmerized by her grace, forgetting why he’d come.
Though the music continued, she froze in a perfect stance: back slightly twisted, neck tilted at a gentle curve, and arms above her head in a smooth bend. One bare foot was rooted to the ground, while she held the other leg weightlessly with her toes on the floor. A shapely calf peeked out from the slit of her gown.
The musicians stopped, all eyes on him as he gawked at the angle of her neck. The princess straightened from the pose, brushing her hair behind her ears. Her severe look locked on him. Her cold voice doused any fascination. “Yes, Young Lord Zheng?”
Tian dropped to his knee in salute. When he spoke, an I-told-you-so tone slipped out. “Dian-xia. Geros plans to take you hostage.” And probably more. “We will be convening a meeting in a half hour. To discuss how to expedite your escape.”
The princess backed up and collapsed into a chair by a window. Hair curtained her face, and her shoulders trembled. “How I wish I had never been sent to this godforsaken land. That I never met that demon of a First Consul.”
Tian hadn’t expected vulnerability. Perhaps his tone was too harsh. He bowed his head.
Pushing her hair back, her gaze met his, searching for something. Perhaps a word of consolation.
In that moment, she was the child he remembered, not the uppity princess she’d become. He took a step forward, hand outstretched to comfort her.
With a lift of the chin, her expression hardened, the cold look returning as if it had never changed. Her voice was icy. “I hope you have come up with a plan.”
Kaiya couldn’t forgive herself for showing weakness in front of Tian. She was too embarrassed to look at him when she came to the ambassador’s office a half hour later. Let him believe it was anger.
More importantly, Jie was back. Safe. She knelt among the senior staff.
Kaiya paused to smile and clasp the half-elf’s calloused hands as she glided towards the ambassador’s desk. A map of the city lay unfurled there.
“Dian-xia,” Tian said. “The Golden Phoenix is under tight guard. From eight soldiers last night. To two hundred now. We cannot get you aboard. Not if they choose to stop us.”
Another reprimand? Kaiya squared her jaw and refused to make eye contact.
The captain of the Phoenix bowed his head. “Dian-xia, if we can get you aboard, the Golden Phoenix is provisioned and can be ready to sail in two hours.”
Tian shook his head. “As long as they maintain that troop level at the docks, escape by sea will be impossible.”
Kaiya snorted. Perhaps Zheng Tian was not such a great planner after all. “Can we charter a boat to take us to the ship?”
It was Jie’s turn to shake her head. “Charter, no. Maybe we can steal one.”
“The docks are crawling with Teleri,” Tian said. He pointed to the Alto River on the map. “Captain, how far upstream can the Golden Phoenix go?”
“At low tide, we can pass under the Great East Bridge, maybe as far south as the docks at Aremarela.” The captain pointed at a fishing town about twenty li south of Iksuvius, on the Teleri side of the river.
Jie gawked. “You can’t simply sneak the Golden Phoenix up the river.”
The captain laughed. “Who said we would sneak? If they even realize what we are doing, there is nothing they can do to stop us. They can’t float anything larger than a fishing boat, and my hundred muskets will keep their heads down.”
Tian’s eyes darted back and forth across the map. “Speed will be of the essence. And a level of deception. We have to leave through the eastern gate. Pass through the crowds on the eastern bridge. Into the Teleri Empire. Then take the road to Aremarela.”
“Into Teleri?” Kaiya covered her gaping mouth. Tian was supposed to be the second coming of his clan’s fabled Architect, and this was the best he could do?
The captain nodded. “There are no other docks deep enough for the Golden Phoenix on this side of the river.”
“However,” Jie said, “we need a very good reason to leave the embassy compound. They have us surrounded.”
Murmurs broke out, but Kaiya silenced them with a raise of her hand. “We have a good reason. I have promised to perform for the First Consul. Choose a time and place.”
Jie sucked her lower lip and let it go with a pop. “Wait. We must reach Aremarela before sundown, because the Teleri western army will be passing through as they move to occupy Iksuvius.”
The captain tapped the bridge on the map. “The tide will start coming back in, so we need to be on the northern
side of the bridge not long after sundown.”
Escape seemed less and less likely. Kaiya’s chest constricted.
Tian placed several Hua coins on the map. “The princess dances for the First Consul as promised. However, we move the time up to the Zhuyue’s second waxing crescent. Move the location to the northern suburbs. We pass back through the northern gate. The wall is deep there. There is a long tunnel. We create a diversion. Stop the palanquin in the tunnel. We switch the princess out. Then she and an escort will take her through the eastern gate. We will need some fast horses waiting on the east side. You can reach Aremarela. One hour at full canter. In the meantime, the Golden Phoenix will sail out of the harbor. Up to the mouth of the Alto River. Then down to Aremarela. That will take three hours. So the ship must be ready to disembark by Zhuyue’s waxing mid-crescent.”
Several of the officers nodded.
Kaiya shook her head. It was amazing how quickly he calculated everything, but there was a one glaring problem. “The palanquin is narrow. You will need a long diversion and very simple clothing if you expect me to be able to change in there.”
General Zheng cleared his throat. “How do we keep the First Consul from detaining the princess at their meeting?”
How could they? One answer immediately came to Kaiya’s mind, though she wondered if she had the ability or will to go through with it. No, it had to be done, and perhaps it would avert the invasion of Iksuvi.
She took a deep breath. “I will kill him myself.”
CHAPTER 19:
The Dance of Swords
In the momentary silence that hung over the room, Jie considered the possibility. The princess had never killed anyone before, at least not that she knew of. Then again, she had vanquished a dragon with her song. Not many people could say that. Only one other, in fact, in the history of Tivara. She exchanged a look with Tian, whose pursed lips almost distracted her from the slight shake of his head.
“Dian-xia,” he said, “forgive my impertinence. Have you ever killed anyone before? You need technique. You need resolve. King Evydas had both. He failed to slay the First Consul.”
The princess nodded. “I will perform the Dance of Swords. I should be able to hold his attention until it is too late. Between then and now, I will find the resolve.”
Jie chewed on her lower lip. A surprise attack. Hardly honorable, but practical. Perhaps being around Moquan was rubbing off on the princess. Still… “The Eye of Solaris will warn him of an attack.”
“Not if I disguise it.” The princess stood. “Trust me with the dance. You will handle the small details.”
All knelt in acquiescence.
After she glided out of the room, Tian and Jie again exchanged glances. All the things she wanted to say to him would have to wait.
Despite her bravado, Kaiya questioned whether she had the skill or resolve to kill the First Consul with an underhanded knife in the back. The procession departed the embassy as the Iridescent Moon waxed to its first crescent, with all hundred imperial guards escorting it. She rode astride a horse through the city, even as porters toiled at carrying her palanquin. In the hour it took to reach Iksuvius Heights, a sanctuary reserved for nobility, the doubts Tian had seeded in her mind grew to worry.
Kaiya dismounted and straightened out her maroon gown, while handmaidens fussed over an errant thread in its gold-embroidered borders. As planned, the colors coordinated with the tall wispy trees that flaunted their autumn raiment on either side of the white stone pathway. Her hair was pulled back and fastened with a golden comb, and her cheeks were lightly rouged by danhua flowers, her lips tinged a deeper red.
With her imperial guard taking up posts halfway up the hill, she accompanied her handmaidens to the white marble open-air pavilion whose columns crowned the hilltop. Her stomach twisted. Could she really do this?
She twirled around to drink up the panoramic view of the harbor to the west, the Old City to the south, and a long stretch of the Alto River as it twisted from the southeast to its mouth several miles to the north. Two of her ladies set up a guzheng outside the circle of columns, while another prepared hot water.
The tightness in her stomach juddered into somersaults.
Below, the First Consul and his contingent rumbled in on warhorses. Dismounting at the base of the Heights, he ambled up the hill. His white toga fluttered behind him. On his command, his retinue of a hundred guards halted halfway up.
Kaiya stole a glance at the Iridescent Moon, now waxing past its second crescent. The plan relied on a narrow window of time, one which Geros tightened more by his slow pace. Ignoring his mismatched eyes, she greeted him with a demure smile. “First Consul, you are late! Please, enter and sit. Unburden yourself from the weighty matters of state.”
“You actually came.” With a smirk, he presented the plaque.
Thank the Heavens. Bowing her head, she received it in two hands. After passing it to a handmaiden, she motioned toward a pair of plush blue cushions on either side of a low rosewood table in the middle of the pavilion. A hammered iron kettle of water boiled over a small, contained flame at the side of the table, a wooden ladle resting inverted on the kettle top. Next to the kettle, a silver tray held two eggshell porcelain cups, two matching bowls, a tea brush, a sky-blue silken handcloth, a silver tea scooper, and an eight-inch octagonal brocade tube. On the other side lay a pair of lightweight straight swords.
“I am sorry you had to witness the hostilities yesterday.” His tone managed to be at once smug and flippant. “Sometimes, our vassals do not agree with the equity of our arrangements.”
Kaiya frowned but said nothing, following the First Consul toward the cushions. From behind, his monstrous frame brought into question the wisdom of her plan. He rounded the table, pausing midstride to look at the swords. He glanced back at her, and then shook his head with a grin.
So dismissive, so rude. Her resolve strengthened. She brushed the gown down to her shins and settled to the cushion on both knees. With her left hand holding the end of her long right sleeve, she extended her open right hand in an invitation for the First Consul to sit.
He dropped into a cross-legged position, the thump of his weight on the floor causing the ladle to fall. Kaiya swept it up before it hit the ground and returned it to its position. Distasteful as it was to defer to the tyrant, she bowed low, as ceremony demanded.
As she straightened, she cast a glance at the matching pair of ceremonial straight swords. The blades lay sheathed in a double scabbard on the marble floors, just within reach.
The instruments of murder. How could a musician, who’d never hurt anyone, become a cold-blooded killer? Her stomach twisted as all resolve faltered.
Kaiya lifted her gaze to the other side of the knee-high table, where the hulking dictator lounged. His white toga exposed sculpted arms, and provided little protection from the cool breeze blowing through the gazebo. He yawned, his bored expression suggesting he didn’t mind the cold. His eyes followed hers from the weapons, until they met. He snorted. Daring her to try.
So dismissive. And why not? He loomed a head and chest taller, his enormous frame at least twice her size. He’d likely killed hundreds of enemies in battle even before her birth. Her pulse skittered like a tentative rabbit. Forget resolve. Maybe she didn’t have the skill to hurt him.
Still, she couldn’t betray weakness to this despot. Kaiya closed her eyes, letting the gentle thrum of the handmaiden’s zither settle her racing heart. Both his and her guards waited outside the hilltop gazebo, halfway down the slope. They could see everything, but stood too far away to intervene. In here, it was just her and two handmaidens.
And two ceremonial swords.
Without magic to balance out his advantages in size, skill, and experience, the odds looked bleak. No, it would be foolish to even try. There had to be some way to escape, without gambling on a desperate attack—one which would leave a stain on her soul even if she somehow succeeded.
Kaiya opened her eyes to fin
d his leer on her. His wolfish grin left no doubt as to what he wanted. His gaze roved over her, as if formulating a plan of attack with her curves as the battlefield. Her only defense was a gown, and the gold comb which held up her hair.
And the two swords, which weren’t meant for actual combat.
She was powerless and trapped. Stomach hollow, Kaiya shook the terrifying thoughts of being pinned beneath him out of her head. Disguise strength in weakness, her ancestor had written. In these dire circumstances, it meant acting demure and deferring to the male ego. It was all part of her upbringing anyway. She could do this.
But first, he needed to lower his guard. What better way than to serve? With her left hand holding the end of her right sleeve, Kaiya leaned forward to the tea set on the table. She lifted the kettle and poured into his eggshell cup. “Please,” she offered with a bow of her head. “Admire the tea’s color and savor its aroma before taking a sip.”
Eyeing the cup with a frown, the First Consul pushed it back across the table. “You first, My Lady.”
Such vulgar behavior. Still, the situation required hiding her disgust and fitting his image of the weaker sex. Kaiya lowered her head while still maintaining coy eye contact through her lashes. She covered her mouth with a hand and softly laughed. “First Consul, it is not our custom to poison even our most hated foes when serving them tea. And while Cathay and the Teleri Empire have our differences, we are certainly not enemies. But if you insist.”
Kaiya took up the cup in both hands, reveling in its warmth. She closed her eyes and took in a long sniff. Her shoulders relaxed and her concerns unwound. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a sip. With a smile, she returned the cup to the table, with an unfortunate hint of red from her lip balm.
As Kaiya reached for the kettle to fill the unused cup, Geros snatched up the one she’d just sipped from. The contrast of his large, rough hands emphasized the dish’s delicate lines. It was a miracle he didn’t crush it between his stout thumb and forefinger. Holding her gaze the entire time, he emptied it into his mouth and gulped it down without so much as pausing to savor its scent or flavor. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and then thrust the cup onto the table.