by JC Kang
She turned into the main audience room. A dozen provincial guards and a handful of silk-robed advisors sank into salutes on the forest-green carpeted floor. Several three-panel screens, lacquered and inlaid with shells and stones, lined the plastered walls. Behind one of the screens, someone breathed rapidly.
From where he sat on an embroidered silk cushion at the front of the room, Lord Zheng pressed his forehead to the ground. His dark green formal robes rustled, and his jade bead necklace clattered. At his side, his wife pursed her lips before bowing as well. Her blue gown, with its pink cherry blossom motif, was more suited for a younger woman.
“You may rise,” Kaiya said.
Both looked up, and while remaining bowed, Zhang Han stood and surrendered his place to her. He then took several steps back and sat cross-legged facing the mat. “Thank you for seeing me, Dian-xia.”
She glided up and knelt on the mat, placing her hands in her lap while Jie came and stood behind her. As protocol demanded, Kaiya tilted her head a fraction to show appreciation for his etiquette. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”
From his seated position, Lord Zheng bowed low. “Forgive my insolence, but I have heard rumors.”
Rumors. Unless Fang Weiyong revealed it, nobody within Zheng Han’s earshot would know of her secret; and Jie had said Weiyong lied for her. Lord Zheng was baiting her.
“As I once told your son, Zheng Ming, rumors proliferate like weeds after spring rains.”
Lord Zheng nodded. “Yes. But for every dozen weeds, there is an occasional flower.”
Zheng Ming had once responded with almost the same line, what seemed to be a lifetime ago. Their conversation had been lighthearted in nature, a dance between man and woman. Kaiya had little interest in games right now. “What kind of flowers do we speak of?”
Zheng Han stared at the floor. “Hopefully, those that have not yet been despoiled.”
If not for the Tiger’s Eye, Kaiya would’ve bristled at the audacity, despite the truth behind it. She feigned outrage nonetheless, scowling and lowering her voice. “Lord Zheng, given your many years of faithful service to my father and now my brother—”
He raised a hand. “One is dead. The other not only invites rebellion with weakness, but is also far away from here.”
There it was, the first hint of mutiny. A stalwart supporter during Father’s rule, even through the last unstable years, Zheng Han had never showed any signs of treason before.
And now, she was his virtual prisoner.
Jie fidgeted, eyes darting around the room and a hand inching into a sleeve. Yet even with her formidable martial skills, she wouldn’t stand a chance against the entire castle garrison, let alone all of the provincial soldiers in the surrounding city.
It was time to persevere. Kaiya said, “So, what do you suggest?”
Lord Zheng pressed his forehead to the ground in a symbolic gesture that rang hollow, given his words. “My personal physician would like to confirm that the…uh…flower…is still…blooming.”
Her younger self might have fainted from the suggestion. Instead, Kaiya pressed her hand to her mouth and widened her eyes for show, even as she weighed the alternatives. If she refused outright, Zheng Han would not dare force her; at the same time, he might hold her hostage.
On the other hand, the truth could give her leverage…if she could trust a hereditary lord who now questioned the authority of the Tianzi.
As Wang Xinchang, the founder of the dynasty, once said, Ambitious men are easier to manipulate than loyal ones. Maintaining a withering stare on the lord, she spoke. “Fang Weiyong, come out.”
Lord Zheng straightened, and nodded toward the screen.
A guard emerged, leading a tall man whose head was covered by a black hood. The soldier lifted the cowl, revealing a gagged Fang Weiyong.
Zheng Han gestured toward his prisoner with an open hand. “Here is the source of the rumor: your doctor. I took him into custody for speaking ill of the Imperial Family. By the Tianzi’s own law, I will have him publically lashed. Unless he spoke the truth.”
Eyes round, Weiyong tried to shake his head through the guard’s grip on his hair. Knowing him, he must’ve been horrified not so much by the threat of a whipping, but by the notion he might have betrayed her.
He ceased his struggle when she flashed a smile at him.
Kaiya leveled her gaze at the lord. “Doctor Fang is not just my doctor, but my friend. One who would not and did not betray my trust. The question is, can I trust you, Lord Zheng?”
Zheng Han bowed again. “Of course, Dian-xia.”
Indeed. “Then send everyone but your wife, my handmaiden, and Doctor Fang out, so we might confer.”
“Your handmaiden must go, too.”
“I see trust only goes so far. You have nothing to fear from a girl.”
Lord Zheng’s eyes narrowed. “It would not surprise me if the girl had more weapons concealed on her than all of my guards here combined.”
It wouldn’t surprise Kaiya, either. Though how Zheng Han knew… “Very well.” She nodded toward Jie.
Smirking, the Insolent Retainer bowed and padded toward the door.
“All of you, withdraw.” Lord Zheng waved his hand. His men bowed and shuffled back out of the room, though one ungagged Fang Weiyong first. The double sliding doors closed behind them.
Satisfied, Kaiya bowed her head. When she raised it, she pressed her hand to her belly. “As you suspect, I am already pregnant.”
Lord Zheng’s lips twitched, his look one of vindication. He opened his mouth to speak.
She raised her hand, silencing him. “Doctor Wu confirmed they are twin boys. Your first grandsons.”
Zheng Han’s satisfied smirk slipped, replaced by a raised eyebrow. “How?”
“Your fourth son, Zheng Tian.”
His jaw slackened, even as Lady Zheng sucked in a sharp breath.
Kaiya nodded away their shock. “Unless the Tianzi and his wife conceive, your unborn grandchildren are next in line to the Dragon Throne.”
With a cough, Lord Zheng shook his head. “They may be my grandsons by blood, but they are illegitimate. They will—”
Kaiya raised a hand to quiet him again. “They are not.” She tilted her chin to Weiyong. “As a priest of Yang-Di, Doctor Fang consecrated my marriage to Tian. Were the rites and rituals carried out correctly?”
Fang Weiyong nodded. “Yes, Dian-xia. Your actions and corresponding vows followed ancient conventions, and are thus all legitimate.”
Kaiya turned back toward Lord and Lady Zheng. “As you see, I am your son’s widow. Yet his banishment would raise questions as to the validity of your grandsons’ claim. That does not have to be the case, in the eyes of the realm. This is why I wished to marry your firstborn.”
Lord and Lady Zheng exchanged glances, their expressions beyond Kaiya’s skill at deciphering. If only Jie were in the room to gauge their reactions. Lord Zheng looked back at her, his face as blank as when he asked if Tian had died bravely.
“Timing is critical,” Kaiya added. “Tian’s seed has grown in my womb for three weeks now. If I do not consummate a marriage to Ming soon—”
He opened his mouth to interject, only to be interrupted by Lady Zheng. She rose to her feet, waddled forward, and pressed her forehead to the floor in front of Kaiya. When she rose, she extended a tentative hand toward Kaiya’s abdomen. “Forgive me, Dian-xia, but may I?”
It was an audacious request, to be sure, but how could Kaiya deny it? The legacy of Lady Zheng’s beloved, dead son grew inside of her. Kaiya took Lady Zheng’s hand in hers and placed it against her abdomen.
Lady Zheng’s tearful eyes met hers. Her voice cracked. “Are they really Tian’s?”
Were they? Kaiya couldn’t be sure, given the unfortunate circumstances. She contrived her most compassionate smile and nodded.
It was wrong to lie, not just on moral grounds, but also because the chance of exposure. The other potential father was
just two weeks away, on the other side of the Great Wall. Emperor Geros didn’t know she carried twins; he only believed the son she would bear was his.
He would spare no resource in the vast Teleri Empire to retrieve her. Fortunately, the Great Wall and a hundred thousand muskets stood between them.
CHAPTER 4:
Perfect Storms
From his place near the bloodwood dais, Chief Minister Hong Jianbin scanned the hundred-some men gathered in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Whether it was his old eyes or the dozens of golden columns obstructing his view, he counted surprisingly few provincial lords kneeling among the blue-robed officials.
A messenger in dark green robes strode between the ordered rows of men, his boots clacking on the polished white marble floors. He dropped to a knee in front of the dais and bowed as he proffered a letter wrapped in rice paper.
Sitting on the jade Dragon Throne, the recently-anointed Tianzi gazed toward the tile ceiling mosaic of circling twin dragons high above. He probably would not have noticed if the messenger transformed into Hua’s guardian dragon spirit.
Hong expected no less from his puppet.
From where she sat on the smaller gold Phoenix Throne, the Empress Wu Yanli coughed. The Tianzi’s head shifted from right to left, the dangling pearls on his hat clicking. His lazy comportment clashed with the regal yellow robes, which he rearranged more than once. At last, he looked down at the messenger and waved a hand.
A minister shuffled forward and received the letter in two hands. He unwrapped it and snapped open the note inside. In a high-pitched voice, he read, “A missive from Tai-Ming Lord Zheng of Dongmen Province. To the Tianzi, Son of Heaven and Enlightened Ruler of Hua. Your sister, Princess Wang Kaiya, wishes to wed my son Zheng Ming. I approve, and ask for your blessing.”
Hong’s heart lurched into his throat. Despite his attempts to smear Young Lord Zheng in the princess’ eyes, despite the two being separated for half a year, she still had feelings for the philandering lordling. How could he secure his own—
“It is an appropriate match.” The Tianzi grinned and turned to the Empress. “I introduced them myself.”
The Empress nodded, her own lips curving up into a radiant, if measured, smile. One of the realm’s foremost beauties, she appeared much too young for the imperial yellow robes. Still, she wore the trappings of state with more dignity than her husband, and stayed disengaged from state affairs as a woman should.
Hong did not plan for her to remain Empress for long. However, if he could not stop the marriage of Princess Kaiya, the Tianzi would have to stay alive so Hong could still influence policy. Hopefully, the Tianzi would remember their private conversation from just a few days earlier.
“Huang-Shang,” Hong said, using the formal address for the Tianzi, “while Young Lord Zheng would make an excellent husband for the princess, the Zheng family is old and unquestioningly loyal. Perhaps you should use her marriage to reward an up-and-coming lord.” Like him, after another promotion.
General Shan, bedecked in ceremonial dragon armor, stood and bowed his helmeted head. Doubt hung in his voice. “Huang-Shang, did Lord Zheng agree to send the ten thousand troops you ordered for the pacification of Nanling Province?”
The Tianzi raised his eyebrow at the minister. So unsightly for an emperor!
The official scanned the letter again. “No, General.”
“Thank the Heavens,” General Shan muttered.
The shortsighted man apparently did not see the danger of insurgency from those still loyal to Nanling’s former ruler, the fugitive Peng Kai-Long. Hong pursed his lips. He knew all too well the threat.
A snake like Peng could wreak havoc, even from across the border in Rotuvi, where he enjoyed asylum after Princess Kaiya had failed to secure his extradition. It was time for Hong to share his brilliant idea, inspired by his lover’s silly notions of chess strategy. In their last several games, the girl had kept her knight in reserve, saying that, like the imperial garrison in Wailian County, it could be deployed at any time.
As ridiculous as it sounded, she had won those games, just like all the others. “Huang-Shang,” Hong said, “As the Founder emphasized, only the sword can bring order to a province in rebellion. Perhaps we should redeploy your most battle-hardened troops in Wailian to help contain the insurgency.”
General Shan coughed. “Huang-Shang, such a move is not only unnecessary, but foolish as well. There is no insurgency. The lords of Nanling have already forsaken the rebel Peng and sworn fealty to you. Furthermore, Wailian County is outside of the Great Wall, protected from Rotuvi only by a shallow river and your armies. It is our main source of firepowder ingredients.”
Hong shook his head. “Huang-Shang, until you finish replacing the lords of Nanling, the old guard will always be faithful to Peng and remain a threat. As for Rotuvi, they are embroiled in a war with their northern neighbors and cannot possibly divert attention toward Wailian.”
The Tianzi looked from Hong to the general and back again. At last, he waved toward the crowd of officials. “What is the disposition of Rotuvi, Minister Yan?”
The aged man, who rarely came to court, bowed. “Huang-Shang, Chief Minister Hong is correct. Rotuvi is not a threat to Wailian. However, I agree with General Shan. I do not think we should leave it defenseless.”
Hong laughed. “You are here to report, not to think, Minster Yan. Thank you for reporting.” He turned from the minister and locked his gaze on the Tianzi. He had not worked his way into the Emperor’s good graces for so long, just to have a few upstarts reject his brilliant ideas.
The Tianzi sighed. “General Shan, draw up the orders to redeploy the imperial garrison in Wailian. Ensuring stability in Nanling is our utmost priority. Even in exile, Cousin Peng may still try to interfere in matters there.”
Peng Kai-Long, ruler of Nanling Province before his plot to seize the Dragon Throne failed, counted his men in the low light of dusk. Only thirty. It was still twice the number of imperial army troops stationed at the Great Wall’s southernmost gatehouse.
A light flashed in quick succession from the top of the Wall, clearly visible from the mill where his men gathered. The signal meant his twenty loyalists on the inside of the gatehouse had taken control. If they suffered no casualties, he would command nearly fifty men. Just enough to hold off a counter-attack by imperial forces until his reinforcements arrived.
If Kai-Long’s other assets in the countryside did their job, that counter-attack would never come, because the main imperial garrison, based out of his castle, wouldn’t know about their loss of this strategic point until it was too late.
With a silent gesture, Kai-Long motioned his men toward the gate. It took three excruciatingly long minutes to cross the meadow. The doors to the gatehouse opened, allowing a column of light to escape the hushed crack.
Fools. They were supposed to keep the interior dark until he and his other men slipped in. If he weren’t so shorthanded, the imbecile in charge might face punishment.
Inside, the provincial soldiers each dropped to one knee, fist to the floor. A dozen bodies lay against the walls, while three bound imperial soldiers gawked at him.
Kai-Long motioned to the doors. “Close them.”
While one man jumped up to obey, his loyal shift captain looked up. “Jue-ye, we suspected the imperial army was testing our loyalty to the Throne when we received your secret orders. I am heartened to see that you are truly here in Nanling and not a refugee in Rotuvi.”
Peng nodded at him. “Yes, rumors of my flight were greatly exaggerated. Or contrived, as the case may be.”
The imperial officer spat. “You’ll never succeed. You don’t have enough men to hold the gatehouse.”
Kai-Long knelt over him. “Word of my return spreads through the province as we chat. Despite their vows of fealty to the Tianzi, my loyal retainers and soldiers will side with me. We outnumber the imperial army garrison.”
The officer laughed. “Maybe you could defeat us, but
not without sustaining crippling losses. The Tianzi will quell your rebellion. With the nation’s vast wealth and power at his command, he will send another army, and another, and another, until you are battered into submission.”
Kai-Long turned his back on the man and motioned for his lieutenant. “Flash the signals on the other side of the Wall, to let the Madurans know we hold the gatehouse. They must arrive by daybreak, before the changing of the guard.”
The provincial captain raised an eyebrow. “The Madurans?”
Kai-Long gestured him into silence, even as he looked back toward the imperial officer. “Tell me, what did the Founder write about facing an opponent who cannot be overwhelmed with force?”
His question was met with a gawk.
Kai-Long shook his head, laughing. “This is why the loyalist governor sits idly in my castle, unaware that I am about to take it back. Even the imperial officers have grown complacent with the nation’s wealth, and have forgotten military lessons.” He motioned toward the provincial captain. “What did the Founder write?”
“Avoid confrontations which lead to unacceptable losses…” The captain’s eyes widened. “…have others fight for you.”
Kai-Long grinned. Over the past several months, he had corresponded with Madura’s Prince Dhananad. With the prince’s unhealthy obsession over Princess Kaiya since she’d danced for him a year ago, he’d jumped at the invitation to invade.
However, instead of helping a foreign invader crush the imperial army, Kai-Long planned to keep his own provincial troops in reserve. Once he deemed both sufficiently weakened, he would close off the South Gate and cut Madura’s supply lines. The Madurans would be caught between a hammer and an anvil, and he would do everything to ensure his enemies thinned each other out before crushing them both.