“I didn't carry out my orders, my mate,” Tumbling Pigeon said into the floor.
“What were your orders, honorable mate?” she asked.
“To turn away all those seeking to leave the city and to—”
“To seal off the gate!” Flying Arrow interrupted, stepping off the dais toward the prone Lieutenant. “You've shamed your Emperor before all the peoples of the four Empires! You've failed in your duty to your Emperor! You've besmirched your family name and spat upon the Imperial banner!” The Emperor drew the Sword with both hands and swung it in a mighty arc, splitting the Lieutenant's skull from crown to neck.
Blood gushed, gushed, gushed from the wound with each of the man's last heartbeats. The body twitched and was still.
Trickling Stream shuddered and bit her lip on a scream.
His robes spattered, Flying Arrow jerked off the sash and lovingly cleansed his blade. Sheathing the Sword, he glared at Trickling Stream with a smile that looked insane. “You!” he spat at a guard, “obliterate the body!”
The guard approached and Flying Arrow backed away. As the guard methodically hacked the corpse into tiny pieces, the Emperor watched closely, as if to insure that no piece too large escaped the guard's attention.
Their clothes soiled with vomit and excrement, the children whimpered, their faces buried in their mother's robes. Trickling Stream regarded the Emperor with an impassive face, refusing to let him see her pain.
“Bring the youngest child!” Flying Arrow ordered, the boy not older than five. Of the six guards in the room, not one moved toward the huddled children. “You!” he singled out a guard. “Flatulating idiots! I'll break the sleeping fast on your brains if you continue to disobey!”
* * *
Crushing Mace tried to step toward the children. His feet stuck to stone. Feces ran unnoticed down his legs.
“Haven't you any spine, you cursed invertebrate?!” Flying Arrow raged. “Fall on your knife for your incompetence!”
Relieved, Crushing Mace knelt in his excrement and unsheathed a knife. From earliest childhood, he'd prepared for this ultimate moment. A warrior prayed the Infinite took him onward on the point of his knife or on the sword of an enemy. Crushing Mace had often sought death in this most honorable way, but he couldn't have killed a child even to defend himself. “With my insignificant life I, Crushing Mace, formally protest this inhuman barbarity, Lord Emperor Arrow. Before these witnesses, I say—”
“Get on with it, or I'll—”
“By custom he can say what he wants, Lord Emperor Arrow!” another guard interrupted. Since a person died only once, the ritual of suicide—voluntary or otherwise—permitted a person to speak freely and to commit his or her words to the permanence of parchment for any to read.
Apoplexy filled Flying Arrow's face. A lance of white-hot light electrocuted both guards. Smoking corpses fell to the floor. The Emperor absently rubbed his left palm against his robes. The fetor of frying flesh floated upon the air. “You!” Flying Arrow said, pointing at a third guard, “Bring the youngest child! Bring him here!” He pointed at the gore in which he stood.
This warrior tried to drag the boy away from his mother. Trickling Stream withered him with a glance, desiccating him with her dehydration. Flying Arrow hit her with a bolt of electricity not strong enough to kill. Trickling Stream convulsed, gritting her teeth but letting forth not a squeak. The Emperor gestured at another guard. Advancing cautiously, the warrior sneezed when he disturbed the pile of dust that had been a fellow guard moments before. Separating the boy from his mother, the guard carried him to the puddle and set him there. He turned to retreat, having carried out the Emperor's order.
“You haven't finished, Lord Microscopic Mind!” Flying Arrow beat his limp left arm against his side.
“What are your orders, Lord Emperor Arrow?”
“Kill the boy, imbecile!”
Turning green, the warrior swallowed his vomit and drew his sword. Kneeling, he bowed to the child. “Forgive me, Little Lord.” Turning him face down, he rested his foot on the child's back and swung, beheading the boy flawlessly.
“Well done, bilious one. Now obliterate the corpse.”
The sword like a pendulum, the guard mechanically cut up the body.
“Bring the next oldest,” Flying Arrow ordered, sneering at the mother.
“No!” Trickling Stream howled, her composure finally breaking. “Please, Lord Emperor Arrow, give me a knife to slit my belly, but spare my innocent children! Oh, merciful Lord Emperor Arrow, please!”
A slow smile spread across Flying Arrow's face. He ordered the guard to continue. Ritually, granting the child the same honor as his younger brother, the warrior decapitated the second child and cut up the body.
Trickling Stream wept.
Flying Arrow ordered the same fate for the last child, the ten-year-old Diving Pigeon. The guard reached for him, then burst into flames. The smell of sizzling skin suffused the air. Flying Arrow snarled, a snake of lightning struck, and Diving Pigeon writhed. The numbness spread upward into the Emperor's left shoulder.
* * *
Infinite help me, Trickling Stream thought as the electrokinesis ceased. What would the Lady Matriarch or the Lord General do? Oh, Lord Infinite, help me to find the strength to face this as they would. Acceptance flowed into her heart as her tears flowed from her eyes. “Go with dignity, my son,” she whispered. The serenity of the Infinite upon her, Trickling Stream straightened. “Lord Emperor Arrow, I request that you allow the Little Lord Diving Pigeon to take his own life, with honor.”
“What's he done to deserve an honorable death, eh?”
“He meets the Infinite willingly, Lord Emperor Arrow.”
“Give him a knife,” Flying Arrow ordered. “We shall see if the boy has the fortitude to do what's beyond many men twice and thrice his age.”
Kneeling, Diving Pigeon bared his stomach. The haft in both hands, the blade toward his lower bowels, he looked at Flying Arrow. His eyes never leaving the Emperor, Diving Pigeon thrust the knife deep into the lower-left groin, and yanked it across and up toward the right kidney, spilling his bowels into his lap. Just before he fell forward, a guard leaped over and beheaded Diving Pigeon so the throes didn't dishonor the death.
A long silence followed, all but the Emperor admiring the boy's courage.
“Thank you for your bravery, my son,” Trickling Stream whispered.
“Cowardice, you mean!” Flying Arrow spat, scowling at her. “Confiscate Tumbling Pigeon's home and its contents, take what's left of the bodies, mix them with piss and shit, and sell the concoction to a farmer as fertilizer!”
“Lord Emperor Arrow, what about the woman?” asked one of the two remaining guards.
“Remand her unto the Matriarch Water with my recommendation that she die the most ignominious death possible.” Flying Arrow's gaze bore into Trickling Stream. His left arm hung at his side, as though paralyzed.
“The Matriarch shall know my wrath!”
Then, as on countless earlier occasions, the Emperor kicked the corpse. It was smaller and lighter than most the corpses he'd kicked, and on the floor was more blood than usual.
Flying Arrow fell on his buttocks.
Chapter 21
When nobles become unable to administer their properties or incur the Imperial disfavor, they or appointed executors can place all assets into receivership. This institution protects a prefecture from all plaintiffs, including the Emperor. While in receivership, all governmental offices and services continue to function, all positions are frozen, and the lives of all those affected by the noble's indisposition remain much the same. For this protection, half of all profit goes directly into the Imperial treasury, and none to the noble. After regaining Imperial favor or recovering the ability to govern, the noble may negotiate the end of receivership. The purpose of the institution is to prevent an Emperor's arbitrary confiscation of property.—Collected Essays on Government, by Guarding Bear.
Ou
r bodies are our power. We must each strive to breed children more intelligent and talented. Traditionally, men make their eldest sons their heirs—not sons with the most ability. If women don't improve the race, men obsessed with primogeniture would breed humanity into extinction.—Matriarchal Law: Precepts and Canons, by the Matriarch Rippling Water.
* * *
Bubbling Water sighed, telling herself she'd reared Flying Arrow as well as anyone could, given the circumstances.
“When you can, please continue your story, Lady Water.” Snarling Jaguar gently rubbed her back. Suddenly, he stuck his finger in the air and lifted the edge of a tapestry. Behind it was a decanter and two tumblers on a platter. He filled the tumblers with an amber liquid and handed her one. “You might find this a help,” he said, sipping. Coughing, he shuddered, his eyes watering.
Grinning at his gagging, Bubbling Water slurped her drink down without even a grimace. “Thank you, Lord. I prefer a larger glass, but…” Smiling, she picked up the untouched goblet of goat's milk, drained it, and handed it to him. “This is the right size.” Five tumblers would fill the goblet. Snarling Jaguar laughed and filled their glasses.
“Where was I?” she asked. “Oh, that's right. The Heir Sword was missing and Flying Arrow killed every Northerner but one to force the information from Lofty Lion. The Imperial Ruling Council debated what to do with the empty lands. Scowling Tiger advocated for colonization, and Guarding Bear opposed him. Eventually, the Council deadlocked. Flying Arrow used their indecision as a pretext to dissolve the Council, then decided not to colonize. Didn't your brother leave the Craggy Mountains and go north about that time?”
“Yes!” Snarling Jaguar exclaimed. “I can't tell you how relieved I felt to have rid myself of the bastard! I pursued him more times than I want to count. He always escaped, being a better strategist and tactician than I.”
The invective in his voice surprised her. Knowing the dislike between the brothers, Bubbling Water hadn't realized he felt such hatred. “Flowing Mind died suspiciously soon afterward,” she continued. “To the alarm of the Empire, Flying Arrow appointed Lurking Hawk the Sorcerer. Melding Mind, fully trained and more than competent for the position, left Imperial service and became Scowling Tiger's retainer.
“Scowling Tiger continued to advocate for colonization, arguing that the lands would become a haven for bandits. Flying Arrow quickly tired of the Prefect's criticism. Remember, Lord, Flying Arrow had already taken two positions from Scowling Tiger—command of the Eastern Armed Forces and control of the Imperial Ruling Council. One doesn't remove someone from a position lightly, even a peasant. Infinite knows why Scowling Tiger suffered from impotence, eh? Despite Flying Arrow's decision, Scowling Tiger sent two of his younger brothers across the border to begin farming the empty northern lands. That was the excuse Flying Arrow needed.
“The Emperor produced evidence that Scowling Tiger had concocted Brazen Bear's plot to assassinate Smoking Arrow—without clearing Brazen Bear of his involvement with the Broken Arrows. Then Flying Arrow declared Scowling Tiger and his allies outlaw, ordering them to give up their lands and possessions and ordering the Commanding General Guarding Bear to war against the Tiger Patriarchy.
“During the civil war, all Scowling Tiger's brothers and their sons died. Only Scowling Tiger, his minions Raging River, Melding Mind, and Easing Comfort survived. After Guarding Bear trapped them in that musty mothballed castle just north of the border, Flying Arrow ordered Guarding Bear to retreat. Scowling Tiger became what he most feared about leaving the northern lands uncolonized: A bandit.”
“ 'Whatever thy will, thou shalt become what thou fear most,' ” Snarling Jaguar said, quoting from the Book of the Infinite.
“Indeed,” she replied, looking into the amber liquid. “Ah, this latest chapter in the Bear-Tiger feud, if indeed it is part of the continuing saga, might prove interesting.”
“What about Fleeting Snow? You left her out.”
“So I did. For most the civil war, no one remembered her. After Scowling Tiger holed up in the fortress, she went north. She knew Flying Arrow might reverse the stay of execution and throw her into the dungeons again. She went anyway. Like all women, Fleeting Snow knew who truly loved her.”
“Who?” Snarling Jaguar asked, gingerly sipping liquid.
“Brazen Bear, of course,” Bubbling Water replied.
“No! I don't believe it!”
“Everyone underestimates her, Lord. Her love for Brazen Bear is as deep as her hatred for Scowling Tiger. She joined the bandit general in the Windy Mountains to exact her revenge. Fleeting Snow has made his life miserable all these years. Part of her revenge was never giving him an heir. I must admit that her giving birth to the girl Purring Tiger mystifies me.”
“Why would Fleeting Snow conceive for a man she denied children for so long, eh? Women!” Snarling Jaguar smiled. She sensed he knew something he ached to reveal. “I'm incredulous you know Fleeting Snow's true motivation for staying with Scowling Tiger,” he said. “I only just learned of it.” He gestured at the decanter. She poured them both another glass, hers much larger. “I learned something else, though. Didn't the Lord General formally retire from the Eastern Armed Forces eighteen months ago?” Imitating her, Snarling Jaguar drank the alcohol quickly, then gagged, sputtered and nearly choked.
Bubbling Water giggled at him. “Yes, Lord, about that—why do you ask?” She let it sit in her mouth before swallowing, enjoying the taste.
“Not long after that, he went somewhere,” Snarling Jaguar said hoarsely, shuddering. “I'll wager you weren't sure he'd ever return, so you conceived your daughter Rippling Water.”
“Who told you that!? Ridiculous!”
He smiled at her. “Not ridiculous at all. Guarding Bear went north.”
“No one knew that, not even one servant in the House of Bear.”
“Someone I know saw him north of the border. Since Scowling Tiger or Guarding Bear didn't die afterward, I suspect someone convinced Guarding Bear that a final vengeance was futile or unnecessary. Then I remembered one small coincidence, and I think I know what happened. This daughter of Fleeting Snow's, the girl Purring Tiger, do you know when she was born?”
“How couldn't I know? She was born the same day as Rippling Water.”
“You have named the coincidence, Lady Water. I commend you on your shrewd induction.”
“ 'Deduction,' Lord. The word is 'deduction',” she said, feeling the effects of the drink. “What deduction?”
“Didn't the Traitress vow never to bear Scowling Tiger's child?”
“She did. For twelve years, was it? Not even a late menstrual flow! I bet you'd pay a pretty tael to know how I learned that!”
“Yet you said everyone underestimates her. How could she keep her vow and still bear a child?”
Bubbling Water looked at him, astonished. Then she guffawed, pounding his large, knobby knee with her small, dainty fist. “That's why Guarding Bear came back alive and without Scowling Tiger's head! I thought he'd given up on his revenge—but he didn't, did he? Do you think Scowling Tiger will ever learn the truth?”
“As of now only four people know who fathered Purring Tiger, and I'm not telling!” Snarling Jaguar protested. Squinting an eye, he frowned at her, looking bewildered. Then he shrugged. “That's also the reason the Lord General attacked me.”
“You think so?” she asked dubiously, remembering how Lurking Hawk had implanted Guarding Bear just before the negotiations. “Is that why you and Guarding Bear consider the Traitress valuable?”
“Ah, yes, the original question.” He pulled her closer and ran a forefinger down her nose. “Spies are useful, to a point. No spy can get some types of information. The Traitress guessed she'd have to know something valuable to find herself a sanctuary. My hunch is she knows more about the Tiger Fortress than Scowling Tiger himself. Tell me, Lady Water, have your spies become intimately familiar with the management of the fortress? Do they know the strengths and
weaknesses of its defenses? Can they tell you how often Scowling Tiger's bowels move?”
“Yes—before he traded her away.”
Snarling Jaguar guffawed, shaking his head. “Oh, Lady Water, I find you so amusing.” Snarling Jaguar poured them each another glass, emptying the decanter. “You didn't order her to follow him north, did you?”
“No, Lord. I wouldn't have ordered any daughter into that cesspool!” Bubbling Water tried not to grin.
Looking suspicious, he shrugged to himself. “Anyway, because of her knowledge, I want to make a bargain with you, subject to the Lord General's approval, of course.”
“My mate's a little indisposed to be giving his approval, wouldn't you say?” Bubbling Water reminded herself to place the Bear holdings into receivership. If Flying Arrow wanted to confiscate the Caven Hills, receivership would only delay the inevitable. She wondered how to insure Flying Arrow didn't take everything Guarding Bear owned. Bubbling Water sighed, loving her mate. This is one of those times I wished I didn't, she thought. Infinite grant me patience, she prayed, the fortunes and misfortunes of the Bear Patriarchy and the Water Matriarchy inextricable. What a mess he caused! she thought, but I've been through worse. “What did you say?” Bubbling Water asked, hoping he hadn't seen her anxiety and lapse of attention.
“I said, 'What she knows is as important to me as to you,' ” Snarling Jaguar repeated, frowning.
“If you wanted her knowledge, why did you trade her away?”
“Of least importance to me, Lady, is Swan Valley. It's a piece of land I'll lose in the next battle and regain in another. What the woman knows—well, the bandits are a long way away. Since the Lord General continues to divert their attention, he's still valuable in this delicate balance of power. Of next importance to me is my life, which you, bless your golden soul, extended a short while. Beyond everything I value the safety of my Empire. How do I preserve that safety? Consider what I actually traded for the woman.”
The Peasant Page 24