by JC Kang
Heads shook.
“Very well, bind him and let me know when he wakes.”
The man was skilled enough to find a way through a cordon of guards, steal a knife, and attack the princess. He’d hesitated, and they’d gotten lucky.
For the Imperial Family, luck was not enough. Jie would have normally sniffed out such an attacker in her sleep, but in her current state, she wasn’t fit to serve.
Though an imperial guard’s response to failure would be to offer his own life, the Moquan didn’t live by such codes. She knelt. “Dian-xia, my skills are compromised. I must be released from your service.”
“Jie, I—” Princess Kaiya tumbled to the ground. Her hand slipped, revealing a splotch of red, blooming out from the wound on her right flank.
CHAPTER 6:
Up In Smoke
With his brother Shu at his side, Ming peered through the darkness. Luckily, the dense clouds obscured the white and blue moons. The black of night, combined with the rustling of the river, covered his men’s retreat. As he suspected, the Teleri would not launch a night attack, despite the expiration of their ultimatum.
A drop of cold rain plopped on his cheek, followed by another. He brought his hand up, feeling the wetness between his fingers.
A chorus of crossbows clicked and twanged, barely audible over the patter of rain in the moat.
“Take cover!” Ming threw himself into the dirt, dragging Shu down with him.
A few grunts and screams emanated from the embankment where the rear guard remained.
“Fire!” yelled an overzealous imperial officer.
“Hold your fire!” Ming barely heard his own voice over the disjointed roar of muskets. The sound would give away their dwindling numbers.
The second volley of muskets rang out, and then a third, each answered by shouts of pain in the moat.
Beside him, Shu struggled to his feet, pulling his dao from its sheath. All signs of his earlier nervousness disappeared.
Ming grabbed him. “Wait. Wait for the fourth volley.”
That fourth volley, to be fired by the first line once they reloaded, never came. Only the clicks of triggers and hammers.
Ming strained his eyes through the darkness and rain to get his best view of the embankment. Nothing but dark shapes. Imperial musketmen shouted in frustration. Metal clashed on metal where his provincial spearmen stood.
He turned to Shu. “Fall back to the rendezvous point. At the first sign of Teleri on the bridge, blow it.” Shu might not be much of an archer, but surely he could hit the firepowder kegs.
From among the spearmen, his other brother Lun yelled, “Fall back, fall—” A choke interrupted his command.
Ming strode forward, unslung his bow, and fit an arrow. Squinting, he tried to locate Lun in the fray. It was so hard to differentiate the dark shapes, even if the Bovyans were that much larger. Instead, he took aim at the figures slogging through the moat and loosed arrow after arrow into the Teleri surge.
The imperial gunnery officer nearly backed into Ming. “Dajiang, we can’t hold the embankment much longer. We must sound the general retreat.”
Ming clenched his jaw. This was becoming into a disaster. With a nod, he yelled, “Fall back to the bridge!”
A horn blared out, sounding the retreat.
As his own men ran past him, Ming worked his way backward, shooting arrows at Bovyan soldiers as they appeared at the top of the embankment. When he could no longer make out any of his own men in front of him, he spun and ran.
At the bridge, he withdrew a light bauble and dropped it among the kegs of firepowder to illuminate the area. Would a flaming arrow ignite the powder in the rain? If only he had been able to complete the evacuation on his own terms.
A cordon of his own spearmen at the other end of the bridge parted and let him through, then followed him in retreat. He raced to the opposite tree line, where Shu waited next to a burning brazier. He proffered an arrow coated with pitch and wrapped in cloth.
Ming dipped it in the brazier and it caught fire. He nocked the arrow, took aim at the bridge, and loosed.
His men all fell silent as the arrow arced through the clearing and landed in the middle of the bridge.
Nothing happened.
Ming loosed another half-dozen in quick succession, all with the same result.
Shu squeezed Ming’s arm, his fingers trembling. “We must blow the bridge, take away their means to cross. Otherwise, the Teleri will be able to march right up to the Great East Gate.”
“I know,” Ming snarled. He looked among the officers and soldiers gathered around the brazier. The only alternative would lead to death or capture. “I need a dozen volunteers to follow me back, each bearing a torch and a spear. We’ll fight our way back to the bridge and light the firepowder up close.”
Several men stepped forward.
Shu’s face paled in the flickering firelight. “But… Eldest Brother, that’ll mean your death.”
Ming frowned as his stomach tightened. As if he didn’t know. He had much to live for: Marriage to the princess. Inheriting the province. Yet the last time he was faced with dying in glory or living with cowardice, he had chosen the latter. Not this time. “You are now heir to Dongmen Province, Shu. Give Father my regards.”
With a deep breath, Ming drew his sword with one hand and took a torch with the other. “Charge!”
He and his men had sprinted three-quarters of the way through the clearing when the first Bovyan appeared on the bridge.
The soldier’s head raked back and forth before he spun on his heel and yelled back into the fort, “The Cathayi plan to destroy the bridge!”
They needed to reach the bridge before the Teleri reinforced it. Ming pushed faster, blinking rain out of his eyes.
He reached the western end of the span just as five Bovyans joined the first on the east side. Forming a line, they marched with lowered spears, their heavy steps sending reverberations through the wood.
Ming’s hands trembled as he thrust the torch at the several lines of firepowder leading back to the kegs. He prepared to jump back, in case he could escape the blast. From his sides, his men surged forward, swords held high.
None of the firepowder lit.
It should have! The rain couldn’t have possibly made it so wet so soon. Or maybe they had scattered it as they ran through it?
There was only one way. He abandoned his desperate game and started toward the kegs.
The Teleri vanguard crashed into his men.
He was almost to the first keg, just ahead of the enemy.
A spear shaft slapped into the torch. The reverberation wrung his hands. The torch jerked from his grasp, flew over the side of the bridge, and sizzled and sputtered in the river. Another spear drove into his left shoulder, punching through his studded leather breastplate like paper.
Pain exploded in his shoulder before all went black.
The low murmurs grew louder, nudging Ming into consciousness. The throbbing in his temples intensified, screaming above the pain in his shoulder. It almost distracted him from the hard cot under his back. He lifted his head and blinked away his fuzzy vision. It was the same roughshod officers’ room as before. This time, he had guests.
Surrounded by four imposing officers, Emperor Geros stood above the wood table, pointing at what appeared to be a map.
Ming struggled to sit up, though his left shoulder, now in a sling, protested.
A Teleri captain cleared his throat. “Your Eminence, Lord Zheng has awoken.”
Geros looked up from the table and grinned like a wolf. “Don’t be rude, Captain Mirin, help the lord up.”
The captain strode over and assisted Ming as he rose into a sitting position. Even an enemy deserved courtesy, and Ming nodded in thanks.
In two steps, Geros loped over and knelt, meeting Ming’s bleary eyes. “I commend your efforts, Lord Zheng. Your ploy to escape on your own terms almost worked. However, you really should have accepted my offer.”
>
Ming blinked several more times, then glared. “You were lucky it rained.”
“Luck favors the well-prepared and the better-informed.” After quoting the Wang Dynasty founder, Geros’ smirk reeked of self-satisfaction.
A wry smile tugged on Ming’s lips, unbidden. “I—”
Geros raised a hand. “I hope you have learned from your experience, because I am going to make you one more offer.”
Another offer? What could the Teleri Emperor want that Ming could provide? He cocked his head. “I don’t have much to give you, except maybe a tour of your own fort.”
Geros laughed. “What did the Wang founder say about knowing your enemy? You do not seem to know what I want. But I know what you want.”
Ming remembered the last time someone spoke to him in riddles: when Golden Fu had virtually mugged him. Just like then, this time would undoubtedly be some kind of set-up. He started to throw his arm up, only to be greeted by a stabbing pain. “You have it all figured out, then. What do you need with me?”
“I want you to open the East Gate of Cathay for my armies.”
He wanted what? Not that Ming would do it, even if it were within his power to do so. He closed his gaping mouth. “Why would I betray my people?
Geros snickered. “Because I will offer you governorship over all of Cathay. You will be the link between the Teleri occupation and the Cathayi people. Oh, the first few months will be difficult, but we will engineer some way to make you look heroic.”
“I am no collaborator.” He had decided in his charge toward the bridge not to be remembered as a coward. He certainly had no intention of being denounced as a traitor.
“You can also marry Princess Kaiya.” Geros stared up at the thatching.
Ming’s eyes must have stretched to the size of tea cups before pinching again. “You want her for yourself.”
“Yes—but alas, due to the Bovyan Curse, my preordained death is a year away. After I am gone, she is yours.”
From what Ming had heard, the curse limited a Bovyan’s lifespan to thirty-three years. The balance was forfeited to sustain the Orc King. Nonetheless... “I do not want from you what I could claim on my own.”
Geros laughed. “You are in no position to claim anything. Except a grave plot.”
Ming shrugged. Better to die a hero than live in infamy. “Nonetheless, I won’t help you.”
“Maybe not willingly. Your father might have a different opinion.”
So he would be served up as a hostage. But Ming’s father was too loyal to open the floodgates, even. Even if it meant the death of his firstborn. Ming still had three brothers. Though that assumed Lun survived the battle. Nonetheless, he forced a confident tone. “My father will never be labeled a traitor for the sake of a single son.”
A Teleri officer appeared at the door. “Your Eminence, we have cut off the retreating Cathayi. They are hunkered down three hours east of here. I request reinforcements to chase them down.”
Shit. Ming’s stomach clenched.
Geros flashed a toothy grin, which reached the kinks of his mismatched eyes.
CHAPTER 7:
Doubts
The stream rustled nearby, setting the rhythm for the chirping birds. Kaiya opened her eyes to the warmth of the midday sun. The orange blur of her eyelids gave way to a perfect blue sky. New spring grass caressed and cooled her back; her propped-up head felt warm. Something dug into her right side.
Kaiya started to dislodge whatever it was, when a round shadow encroached into her field of vision. She squinted, the image coming into focus.
Tian.
Upside-down. Her head was cradled in his lap, the cross of his legs a comfortable pillow. His intelligent eyes held her entranced.
He brushed an errant lock from her face. “Good afternoon, my love.”
Kaiya’s heart leaped so high, it might have joined the clouds outside. She pushed herself up, and tried to straighten out the wrinkles in her robe and untangle her hair. It would not do for her beloved to see her so disheveled. She looked up through her lashes.
He leaned in and took her cheeks in his hands.
She closed her eyes and parted her lips, inviting him closer.
Tian accepted the summons, pressing his lips to the divot between her collarbones. The heat of his breath sent a tingle down her spine, which intensified as he lavished kisses up her neck. Longing to feel his mouth on hers, she tilted her head forward to meet his.
But instead of meeting her lips, he leaned back. Kaiya opened her eyes. He grinned at her, the crooked smile emphasizing the defined curve of his jaw. “Not now.”
She pouted. “Where are we? Did I join you in the world between death and rebirth?”
He shook his head. “I would be disappointed. I sacrificed myself so you might live. And our children.”
Kaiya sucked in a breath and looked down at her belly. “They are yours?”
Tian’s gaze followed hers. He placed his hand over her womb before lifting her chin. “It is not yet your time. You have much to do. He has much to do.”
He? Not they?
She opened her mouth to protest, only to find Tian’s lips against hers, his arms enveloping her. The energy drained from her body and she melted into him, all complaints forgotten.
Then his hand slipped to her right side. Pain seared in her flank.
Kaiya sat up straight on a bedroll, a kiss of warm spring air brushing across her face. Joy melted through her fingers like water, leaving only the ice of despair. Emotion, raw and uncontrollable, seized her breath.
Then pain tore at her right side. As quickly as they had come, her feelings disappeared. She blinked away the tears and brought her left hand to the wound.
“Dian-xia, rest easy,” Fang Weiyong’s voice called.
Rubbing her eyes, she found him in a chair by the window of her sunlit room. He slid down into a kneel.
She pulled her white sleeping robe tighter. Modesty seemed appropriate.
“Dian-xia.” Jie sat cross-legged by the closed door. She rose onto her knees, head bowed.
Weiyong stood and shuffled toward her. “Please, rest. You lost a lot of blood, and were unconscious for two days.”
Was that all she lost? Kaiya placed a hand on her belly. With all the doubts surrounding the pregnancy, perhaps it was for the better. No worries about who would inherit the Dragon Throne, no urgency to get married. At the same time, if they had been Tian’s… Oh, no. Her chest squeezed, a long-forgotten sensation.
A smile danced across Weiyong’s face. “Do not worry, Dian-xia, your unborn sons were safe last time I checked. May I?” He gestured toward her wrists.
The sadness that came with the prospect of losing Tian’s children slipped away as if it had never peeked out from under the Tiger’s Eye. She offered her wrists to him, and he knelt over and felt her pulses.
Brow furrowed, he nodded several times. “Yes, you still feel very pregnant to me. Unfortunately, my pulse diagnosis does not compare with Doctor Wu’s, so I cannot tell you much more than that.”
Her dilemma remained.
“May I see the wound?” Weiyong averted his eyes, not that it mattered.
With a nod, Kaiya laid her arms at her side. “Please.”
Jie crowded in behind him as he opened the right lapel of her robe and untied the dressing. “Dian-xia, please lift your breast.” His voice sounded professionally sterile.
The breast felt full and sore in her hand, the nipple sensitive, no different from the day she found out she was pregnant. Surely her twins were fine.
Kaiya craned her neck to get a good look at the wound. Delicate stitches melded the thumb-length cut together, barely noticeable from her vantage point. “I can tell you did the sewing, Weiyong. I have seen Jie’s handiwork. She is much better at cutting flesh than sewing it back up.”
The Insolent Retainer’s cheeks flushed, perhaps at the verbal jab, or maybe in memory of the same words the half-elf had once used to describe Tian’s skill w
ith needle and thread.
Weiyong smiled again. “I am honored by your praise, Dian-xia. Fortunately, the blade entered obliquely and glanced off your rib. It nicked your liver. I disinfected the cut with an herb wine wash. I have been treating it with a balm that should hopefully compensate for my poor stitches. I do not think it will leave much of a scar.”
At least not a physical scar. If and when she ever broke free of the Tiger’s Eye, this incident would be yet another memory that might keep her up at night. And why? “Jie, did you coax some answers out of the assassin?”
Jie sighed. “Yes, Dian-xia. However, the answers were inconsistent. At first he insisted that Lord Zheng ordered him; later, it was the bidding of the Tianzi himself. Another remote possibility is Peng Kai-Long, meddling from beyond the Empire’s reach.”
Unless Lord Zheng had suddenly decided to wipe his hands clean of her, he would have no motive. Her brother, even less. As for Cousin Peng…a hired knife taking her unawares reeked of his underhanded methods. To think she had trusted him for so long. “Did you find out anything else?” she asked.
“My biao punctured his lung, and he did not last long enough for more subtle interrogation.” Jie dropped to both knees and hung her head. “Dian-xia, I was careless. I should never have let him get too close to you. I—”
“You were thinking of Tian, weren’t you?” It was the only way to explain the Insolent Retainer’s mistake.
Jie stared at the floor, the tips of her ears flushing deep scarlet. “It doesn’t matter. I am of no use to you right now. We must arrange for a replacement.”
A year and a half ago, Kaiya hadn’t wanted Jie as a bodyguard. Now, she was indispensable. Not just for her skills, but also for her willingness to speak her mind. However, there was something she was not saying. Kaiya propped an elbow underneath her. “Help me up.”