by JC Kang
He took them and stared through the thinning fog.
Yuha prodded him. “What’s our plan?”
“You and Jie will find a boat and meet me across the lake.” Tian pointed toward the spot Jie had indicated. Hopefully, Yuha’s limited Arkothi would be enough for the two of them to communicate. He patted the shaman on the shoulder.
“Remember,” Jie said. “We have to hurry. The princess will be at the palace, along with whoever is left to defend it. Enemy agents will be trying to penetrate it.”
Tian squeezed her hand, regardless of Yuha’s reproachful glare. With a nod, he scrambled down the hill. He covered himself in yellow brush and crept among the low rows of greening winter wheat, well to the east of the bridge. The fertile smell of spring piqued memories of a little girl with doe eyes, which merged with a half-elf girl with larger eyes.
After a li, the fields ended at a stretch of rocky flatland about twenty paces wide. Beyond that, a stone retaining wall ran along the river bank. All designed so that a defender on the walls could see an approaching enemy. In his forest-green long coat and black pants, he’d stand out to anyone whose gaze happened to pass over him.
He scanned the battlements. Though the Metal Men paced the gatehouse in the distance, none actually ventured onto the walls. Perhaps swimming across here would be safer than trying to climb under the bridge. Then again, the li-wide river coursed with spring melt. He’d never make it across without either getting washed away or freezing to death.
Working his way through the wheat toward the bridge, he came to hastily constructed earthworks near the highway. From the scars in the ramparts and the sprayed clumps of dirt, the position must’ve faced a light bombardment from the city.
The piquant scent of burnt firepowder lingered in the air. Paper cartridge remains littered the trenches. The attackers must’ve fired back, despite the impossibly long range from here to the walls. A lot of firepowder and musket balls must’ve been wasted by both sides. A deliberate strategy, no doubt. This Emperor Geros must be a formidable adversary. Images of a hulking man with a scar on his cheek blinked in and out of Tian’s memory.
He peeked up from a trench. Covering the distance from here to the bridge would take ten seconds. A risk, unless there were some distraction. Wait for someone to approach the city? Unlikely, since as Jie had said, no one in their right mind would walk into an occupied city.
Or would they? Wagon wheels creaked and horse hooves clopped to the east. Up the highway, which continued to northwest, a caravan approached with a Metal Man on horseback at the head. Sixty-four more flanked the sides as commoners pulled twenty-seven carts of foodstuffs and firepowder. Counting, always counting; numbers brought order to his thoughts.
Heart pumping, Tian edged toward the end of the trench closest to the highway. Little chance he could blend in with the porters with his uniform, but he could use them as cover. He took a deep breath, and his pulse settled. Toward the back of the line, he waited for the second-to-last Metal Man to pass. Tian tossed a rock onto the highway behind him.
The soldier turned.
Tian zipped under the nearest wagon and clung to the bottom. He held his breath. Maybe he hadn’t gone fast enough. He didn’t stand a chance against so many enemies.
The Metal Man’s booted feet jogged up to just beside the wagon…and resumed their march. The wagon continued, the wheels thumping into the edges between the pavestones. The porters whispered among themselves, lamenting the death of the old Tianzi. The head of the bridge came closer. With a little speed and luck, he could slip out without being seen and then duck under the bridge.
And hold on to what? Maybe Jie knew something about the underside of the bridge, or assumed he did. Too much of a risk. In any case, as long as the Metal Men didn’t check underneath the wagon, this was an easy ride into city.
The bridge rose up in a gentle arch before descending again. The gate guards didn’t even stop the caravan as it rolled through the darkness of the gatehouse and into the city. It continued straight down a tree-lined road. Tian’s hands, arms, abdomen, and legs all ached from the effort. All the feet visible from his spot wore heavy boots, which clopped on the white stones.
If his muscles gave out, the enemy would see him. Maybe climbing under the bridge would’ve worked better; at least he could have worked at his own pace. No. No point in regrets. He drew in a slow breath and contemplated the sound of one hand clapping, distracting his mind from the burn.
The caravan turned onto a winding path of packed gravel. The white canvas and poles of tents were pitched among the grass and trees. A campsite, or rather an urban park used as such. Men groaned all around. At last, the wagon came to a stop. The straw-sandaled feet of Hua porters pattered away, followed by the Metal Men’s boots.
Tian’s limbs protested as he lowered himself to the ground and blew out a long breath. The new angle provided a slightly better view. Bandaged and splinted Metal Men, some on crutches, queued outside of several tents. This was more than a campsite; it was a field hospital. Sabotaging the medical supplies, poisoning the food, and assassinating the doctors would slow the enemy down.
His stomach clenched. What kind of man thought of such things? He rolled out on the side of the wagon away from the tents and stood. Manicured trees with budding limbs stood at regular intervals. Each could provide cover as he worked his way into the city and found clothes that would make him look more like a citizen, less like a military officer.
“You!” a voice called from the tents. “Stop!”
With his back to a tree, Tian cast a glance at the supply wagon and the medical tents beyond. A boy, not yet a teen, froze with his hand on a loaf of bread. Dozens of the Metal Men started toward him, pointing.
Tian suppressed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t seen him, but… Two able-bodied Teleri loped toward the would-be thief.
The porters—the only other Hua people around besides the boy—stepped to the side. Tucking the bread into his shirt, the thief dashed off, running right by Tian. The two Metal Men gave chase, also passing him without any sign they’d seen him. No telling what they would do if they caught the boy.
Tian bolted after them, darting from tree to tree, occasionally checking back to see if any other Bovyans followed him. Reaching the edge of the park, where it bordered a paved avenue, he stopped. Buildings of wood and stone stood in a row across the street, many with colorful signs he could read. Shoes. Tanner. Butcher. Vegetables. Still, the shutters on the sixteen storefronts remained closed, as were the residences above. No one so much as poked a head out of the windows.
The boy sprinted across the street, then ran down the deserted road, the pursuers only a dozen paces behind. That they hadn’t caught up with their longer legs was a testament to the boy’s speed and guile. He’d be fine on his own.
Maybe he wouldn’t. Gritting his teeth, Tian followed.
The boy turned down a side street. When Tian reached the corner, he looked around just in time to see the Metal Men turn into an alley. Tian made a quick scan of the surrounding area. In the windows above stores, people now peeked out from cracked shutters. He took a deep breath and ran to the alley, stopping at the edge of a building for cover. He craned around the corner.
In the morning shadows, the boy stood with his back to a dead end, his hands pressed against the wall.
One of the Metal Men put his hands on his hips. “Return the bread now, cretin, and your punishment will be light.”
Tian eased the grip on his dagger. If the punishment was light, then he didn’t need to risk exposing himself.
Dark shapes dropped down from the balconies overhead, enveloping the two Metal Men. They collapsed to their knees with muffled grunts.
Tian started to back away from the ambush. A hand clamped down on his shoulder. He raised his hand and stopped a knife from pressing into his throat. Securing his assailant’s hand on his shoulder with his own, he spun and swept his leg out. A twist of the wrist, and the knife clattered to the
ground. He straddled his attacker…
A teenaged girl.
Her eyes widened. “Zheng Tian! You’re supposed to be dead.”
Moquan. The ambush was so elementary, only a child would fall for it. Or a Metal Man. And him, apparently. This girl must’ve been the rear lookout. Not only that, she knew his name. He raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
She pouted. “Feng Mi. We attacked Wailian Castle together. Don’t you remember?”
Had she? Honey? She was cute enough. Yet with his memory, she could’ve been the once-in-three-generations Doe-Eyed Girl and he wouldn’t recognize her. Composing his best apologetic expression, he shook his head.
Behind him, a male said, “Who…”
Tian turned and met a young teen’s eyes, which widened. Beside him the first boy stared as well.
“Zheng Tian,” he droned. “I’d never believe it was you following me. I thought it was a Teleri Nightblade. Come on, back into the shadows.” He beckoned them back into the alley.
Tian helped Feng Mi to her feet. She gazed at him with adoring eyes. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he quickly turned into the alley.
Two other young male Moquan worked at stripping the Metal Men of their armor. They all looked up from their work and gawked. He might as well have been the village shaman, given the attention.
Feng Mi skipped over. “You really don’t remember me? You taught me the Ghost Echo at the temple.”
“I lost my memories to the Viper’s Rest.”
Her mouth formed a circle and the others nodded. Such bright faces, so young. The Black Lotus Clan must have been severely depleted to depend on youth.
“Who is leading?” he asked.
Feng Mi stared at the ground for a few seconds before meeting his gaze. “Me.”
Her? He sized her up with a discerning eye. “If I taught you a technique at the temple, you can’t be that old.”
One of the boys nodded. “Most of the clan is defending the inner castle. Feng Mi was the most senior on the outside.”
Tian looked from him back to girl. Princess Kaiya must’ve been in the inner castle. “How many adepts do you have? Who’s giving you orders?”
“There are seven of us. We take turns going to Cold Sun Bell Foundry, getting orders from Master Yan.”
“What’s your mission?”
“For now, harass the occupying army.”
“Two at a time.” Tian snorted.
The first boy crossed his arms. “We were sabotaging their supplies. I was just a diversion so our last two could do the sabotaging.”
The others nodded.
It was almost cute. Though it made sense: as long as the senior clan members defended the princess in the castle, the younger ones could operate on the outside. Tian scratched his chin. “How many enemy soldiers are there?”
“About five thousand,” Feng Mi said.
Only five thousand, out of an expeditionary force of fifty thousand. They must’ve sustained significant casualties breaching the north gate. Still, five thousand was more than seven—now eight—Moquan could defeat. Tian scratched his chin. “Where are they concentrated?”
Feng Mi used a finger to sketch the city in the air. “Mostly in the northwest quadrant and around the palace. Smaller units stationed at the north and west gates, and around the holes left in the east walls.”
Leaving the south gate undefended. A trap perhaps, to entice an attack there, or maybe allow an escape route. If only he could remember the city layout. “What does that tell us about their objectives?”
The youngsters glanced among themselves.
The first boy said, “They’re keeping our soldiers bottled up in the palace.”
Tian cocked his head. That wasn’t what he would’ve thought. More like preparing an assault. “How many soldiers are in the palace?
“Eight thousand.”
Tian scratched his chin again. None of it made sense. Outnumbered, cut off from their homeland, the Teleri had still managed to control the entire city and its resources. “Why hasn’t the regent ordered a counteroffensive?”
Feng Mi shook her head. “The regent fled the city to draw the main Teleri army away.”
Fled? Main Teleri army? Tian looked from spy to spy. “How many soldiers?”
“Forty-five thousand,” one of the older boys said.
They’d hardly suffered any casualties, then. “Who’s protecting the regent?”
“Three hundred of the Huayuan provincial cavalry,” said another boy.
Tian glared at them. This was the woman that he supposedly loved. “What about a Black Lotus Moquan adept? Aren’t we supposed to protect the Imperial Family?”
Feng Mi popped her lips. “I was guarding her, but she ordered me to stay in the city.”
“And you obeyed?”
She shrugged. “Our orders to guard her were given by the late Tianzi. As regent, she is head of the Wang Family. I could not disobey.”
Tian snorted. If anyone was more stubborn than the Moquan, it had to be this Doe-Eyed Girl. With Yuha or not, he had to go after his wife. Even if he didn’t love her. She needed his protection. “I’m going after the regent.”
The others gaped. As he turned to leave, Feng Mi grabbed his sleeves. “How can you leave at a time like this?”
Tian met her gaze. It wasn’t as though he had much to contribute. “This evening, Yan Jie will come in through the sluice gate where the White Duck Stream empties into the lake.”
Glancing around the square, Jie didn’t think the town looked occupied. They were about six li from where they’d parted with Tian, whose lack of confidence in his own abilities had proved troublesome. Here, people went about their everyday lives, though most stared at Yuha as they passed. Not a single Teleri prowled the streets. They must’ve just marched through without leaving a garrison.
They’d apparently procured supplies, though. People crowded around carts and stalls, bidding outrageous prices for common vegetables. Spring greens, carrots, radishes, and winter squashes—usually in abundance this time of year—barely filled one farmer’s cart. No meat hung in the butcher’s stall, and indeed, from the smells, there were too few pigs and cattle around. A decent amount of fresh crustaceans sold for high prices, but there were hardly any salted fish.
Down toward the docks, men, and children cast lines. No boats bobbed in the lake beyond. Jie beckoned Yuha to follow. Many of the fishermen gawked as they approached. Give a shaman and a half-elf a fish…there had to be a good punchline for the oddity of it.
She bowed to a middle-aged man with a weathered complexion. “Where might I find a boat?”
“If we knew, do you think we we’d all be fishing from the banks and docks?” He swept a hand across the riverfront, at all the other fishers. “You won’t find a boat anywhere on the north shore of the river or lake. If you want one, go ask the regent in Huajing.”
Another man, carrying a rod, walked up. “First, the regent impounds the boats across the lake, for fair compensation. Then the Teleri come and force us to sell over half our food stores. What good is the money if a turnip costs five times the regular price, and neighbors turn on neighbors in the struggle to feed themselves?”
The first man spat into the water. “And then, the Teleri captured the city anyway. Incompetence, I tell you.”
“Would’ve never happened under the late Tianzi.” The second harrumphed.
Jie nodded, but had her doubts. The Tianzi might’ve had a good mind for trade and economics, but Hua was ill-prepared to defend itself on this side of the Wall. Meanwhile, invasion might as well have been the Teleri’s national religion. She turned to Yuha, cupped her hands to pantomime a boat, and shook her head. “No boat.”
He pointed upshore, where dozens of eldarwood trunks bobbed in a holding pen on their trip to the shipyards. He wound his hands around in a circle, while the fishermen gaped at him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the logs. Several of the fishermen followed.
Yuha repeate
d the motion. Lashing the logs together? Was he suggesting building a bridge? They had neither the carpentry skills, nor the time. Not to mention Sun-Moon Lake was several li wide. He threw his arms up and dragged her to a vegetable garden just twenty paces from the riverbank.
He looked up and down the rows before locking on some vines. He marched to the thatched hut and called inside, using heavily accented Hua. “Helllloooo?”
A young woman poked her head out, her eyes widening before shifting to the small crowd that gathered.
Beaming, Yuha placed a hand on his chest, then swept it outwards. He then pointed at the garden. “Want.”
The woman’s gaze shifted to Jie. “What does he want?”
Jie flashed a sheepish grin. As if she knew.
Yuha beckoned them to the garden, and the woman followed, revealing a baby swaddled in her arms. Yuha smiled and nodded at the child, then came to the vines. “Want.”
The mother cocked her head. “Whatever for? There aren’t enough tender leaves for even one meal.”
“I give you.” Still smiling, Yuha removed a necklace with feathers and polished river stones and proffered it. A trade? Around them, the fishermen chuckled.
“A pretty necklace won’t feed my family.”
Whatever Yuha wanted, it seemed urgent. Jie produced a silver jiao.
She held up a finger. “One plant.”
“One?” Jie threw up her hands. “That’s enough to buy a field of vines.”
“We can’t eat silver.”
Yuha put a hand on Jie’s shoulder and nodded. He held up one finger.
Just one? He must be insane.
The look the young mother afforded them left no doubt she felt the same, but she nodded nonetheless.
Yuha took the woman’s free arm and clasped her wrist. He closed her hand around his own wrist and nodded again. Freeing his hands, he enunciated a few melodic words.
The ground trembled. Before everyone’s rounded eyes, the vines lengthened and fattened. Side tendrils unfolded, and small white flowers opened.
“Heavens,” the woman gasped.
Some of the men ran among the vines, now crawling over the land and toward the riverbank and logs, and dabbed their fingers from flower to flower. Snow peas grew out from where they touched. Other men ran back into the town.