When the curse took her vision, she had railed against her fate. She would have given anything, done anything, to see again. Until Dog…
To look into Dog’s eyes.
“There is one thing I want,” she said, testing her words as she would an untried blade. In battle, her life and those of her comrades depended on the temper of the steel. Now much more was at stake. “Dog’s life.”
The soldier-god turned his luminous gaze on Jian. She could not read his expression. “You understand that if I grant this wish, you will continue as you are, blind for the rest of your life.”
The god had not said no.
Jian clambered to her feet. She wanted to be standing when the light faded.
And fade the light did, but not before she felt the brush of cool lips on her forehead. Then she heard Dog’s grunt and felt the flex of muscles and empty air against her ankle. Heard the loose-skinned, ruffling sound that meant Dog was shaking himself. A short distance away, cloth rubbed over dirt, followed by soft footsteps in her direction.
“Jian?” Amaya’s voice, shaken but clear. “What happened?”
Tears wet Jian’s cheeks. She had no memory of weeping.
“He’s gone, the warlock.”
“I did it, then?”
Jian hesitated, considered. Nodded.
Dog nudged Jian’s hand with a wet nose. She felt for his collar, then the leash. “Get the packs and let’s go home.”
“Yes,” Amaya replied, by her voice already heading toward the cleft in the rock face. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
Dog? Dog’s tail wagged, thumping against Jian’s calf. All right, then.
Jewels on the Sand
Catherine Soto
Lin Mei first appeared in the story “Step by Step” in Sword and Sorceress 21. She started as a groom in a caravan that traded in Western China during the early years of the Tang Dynasty. In the intervening years, both hers and ours, she has advanced from groom to guard (and part-time spy for the Emperor) to owner of the caravan guard business where she started.
Catherine Soto lives in San Francisco. “Step by Step” was her first published story, and she has been writing about Lin Mei and her brother ever since. When not writing or at the obligatory day job, Catherine hangs out at the Asian Art Museum or explores sushi bars, although this year she’s been spending more time at the public library. While she still maintains her interest in China, she has expanded her horizons to include Central Asia. Far from being merely an area between several vast empires, it was a significant economic and cultural influence in itself.
There have also been significant changes in her professional life, mostly for the better. She reports getting a full night’s sleep more often now, which gives her a more even temperament.
Shadow looked up, Twilight doing the same a moment later. Lin Mei looked over at them, the hair on her neck prickling. No scent of danger, yet, but something was wrong. What?
The cats’ eyes narrowed to slits, ears back as they looked past her to the door. That was enough. She reached for her blades. Dinner could wait. She was halfway to the door when she heard a loud commotion outside. She ran out into the central courtyard of the compound.
“What is it?” she called to a pair of servants near the well.
“Outside,” one said, pointing to the main gate. Lin Mei ran to it and used the small door used for everyday business to go out onto the street.
“Up there!” someone yelled, pointing up to the roofs of the compound across the street. Starlight outlined the tiled rooftops against the night sky in even straight lines. She ran practiced eyes along the ridgeline.
“There!” someone yelled. Something that might have been a man’s silhouette flitted across the rooftop. For a moment she had the impression of a face turning to look at her and of two blazing eyes. Hair bristled outward from a long-nosed triangular face, then nothing. Whatever it had been was gone.
“What was that?” she asked, to no one in particular. She noticed the large number of armed men about. Faces glowed in the torchlight. Older men shouted orders and young men climbed up the roofs while others ran out to the back alleys.
“It is a demon,” she heard a voice say in the darkness nearby. She turned to see who had spoken. He stood nearby, a tall lean man in worn dark monk’s robes and leather boots with embroidered felt uppers.
“You know about this, learned sir?” she asked. He turned to look at her, his face lean and hard.
“I do,” he replied. “I am Wang Due Gyaltsen, of the Choejor Dorje Monastery in the town of Pari. I am on pilgrimage to the Pema Norbu Temple in the Khalsamo Dharma Monastery here in Kashgar.” Lin Mei carefully looked him over. His features, the boots, and his avowed place of origin identified him as a man of the Cham plateau in the domains of Tifun. A strand of prayer beads that might have been ivory hung from his hand.
“How do you know it is a demon?” someone asked.
“What else would it be?” he asked in reply. The logic of his answer seemed to still all other questions. Lin Mei decided it would be wiser to return to her quarters. Guard officers were telling all present to return to their homes, they would continue the search for the demon, or whatever it was. She was turning to comply when her eye caught sight of another man dressed in priest’s robes looking at her. Like Wang Due he was tall and lean, dressed all in black, and with the look of the mountains on his face. But when the crowd and the shadows shifted he was gone.
Inside Twilight and Shadow were prowling the room. She settled down to finish her supper, her sword and dagger close to hand, and the two cats, reassured by her return, retreated to the basket they had commandeered for their stay there.
She decided to attend to some messages delivered earlier. Two scrolls were routines inquiries from Wang Liu in Kendar, the merchant she was working for. She set them aside. The replies could wait for the morrow. She was considering delaying the bundle of bamboo slats when the seal on the silk ribbon caught her eye. It was on hard red wax, and a military insignia. Not daring to breath she unrolled the missive, fearing the worst.
At the first line she let her breath out. It was from Biao, her brother, currently serving in the army.
My dearest sister, it began, as she read down the lines of script written on the bamboo strips, it is with great pleasure that I inform you that I have been honored by the August Throne with a commission in the army. I am in command of eight hundred men at Dunhuang. We are charged with the protection of the Eastern caravan routes. I hope that on your journeys you will sometimes pass through here so that we may see one another. May our ancestors’ spirits watch over you and keep you safe.
She sat there not really seeing the letter while emotions warred within her. She really should not feel anger at Biao; it was not an honor he could refuse. But she had been hoping for his return. When Shin Hu, the owner and commander of the caravan guard business that had employed them both, had retired, she had used part of their savings to buy the concession, and she had been looking forward to Biao’s return. She could use the help, and the commission was effectively a lifetime appointment. Then she recalled that Dunhuang was only a few days’ ride away from Kendar, where dwelt Ro Min, archer, bodyguard, and spymaster for the Empire, the woman that Biao had fallen for years before. Despite herself she laughed quietly. She doubted Biao would mind the hardship of his post. She set the message aside and returned to her meal. Any decisions could wait.
She was preparing for bed when the guardsmen arrived. The maid announced their arrival, her face worried but trying not to show it.
“He says he is an official messenger from the Chief Magistrate,” she said. Lin Mei frowned.
“Let him in,” she said, turning to face the door. Three men entered as the young girl slid open the door.
“Your presence is required by the Chief Magistrate,” the one in the lead said. Polite and mannerly, his voice bore no menace, but the two armed guards with him suggested otherwise. Still she saw nothing to wo
rry her in their faces, which were, at least, not hostile. She noted he was an officer of the City Guard, not normally used for a simple summons by the Chief Magistrate. It was odd. Still it would be best to comply.
“May I bring my blades?” she asked, her left hand motioning to her sword and dagger, careful not to touch either one. The guard officer shrugged. It was an oddly worldly gesture in one so young. So, she was not a prisoner. That was comforting. Without a word he turned and set off, leaving her and his two men no choice but to follow. A quick look back assured her that the two cats, Twilight and Shadow, were already asleep. They apparently had sensed no danger, which was a relief. After a moment’s thought she decided to let them stay. If she needed them it would be later.
Outside they were joined by more guards. Her uneasiness was assuaged when she noticed that the guards seemed intent on protecting her, rather than merely escorting her. After a few more moments reflection she concluded that was even more cause for worry.
They left the compound of Sonam Champa, the merchant who was giving her hospitality during her stay in Kashgar, two servants opening the large main gate to allow the party to pass. They crossed the street toward the walled compound where the apparition, whatever it had been, had been spotted earlier. At the gate they stopped while servants unbarred the gate and began to open it.
“Halt! Who goes there?” one of the men escorting her yelled, turning and leveling his lance at two approaching men. Lin Mei turned, her hand automatically moving to sword hilt before recognizing them, Togrul Magh and Hua Chen.
“Togrul, Hua, what are you doing here?” The two men stopped a few steps away.
“We heard a lot of noise and running about,” Togrul said, hands well away from the sword that hung at his belt, “and came to see if you were well.” His bow was slung over his back along with a quiver of arrows. Hua Chen also held his lance loosely, resting it casually against his shoulder. The inn they were staying at was not too far away. They would have heard the tumult.
“It is well,” she said to the men escorting her. “These are Togrul Magh and Hua Chen, my lieutenants. May they accompany me?” The young officer shrugged again, a gesture he seemed to have refined to a fine art. Without looking back she followed him inside, not looking back to see the faces of her two men. She vaguely wondered how much more she would have to pay them, and then set that aside as another matter for the morning. Life had been so much easier when she had been just an ordinary guard!
They were led to the main building, an imposing structure of white-washed mud brick in a wooden post framework, with more guards just outside the large brass studded door. So many guards were unusual, and she noted the air of uneasiness among all present. The young officer commanding her escort flashed a jade plaque and they were allowed into a large hallway with a hardwood floor, obviously the domain of the rich and powerful. They stopped just outside a large door at the end.
“The Magistrate of Kashgar has ordered this young woman to attend him,” the officer said to the armed men standing guard. “These are her men. We deliver her to you in accordance with his orders.”
“May they enter with me?” she asked.
One of the men at the door appeared to be in command “Wait here,” he said, and went inside. In moments he reappeared.
“You may all enter.” He opened the door and stepped aside to let them pass. Inside a man waited, dressed in an elaborately embroidered blue silk jacket with a yellow sash and red silk trousers.
“Kamartike Akappi, the Magistrate of Kashgar,” their guide announced before closing the door behind him. Lin Mei noticed two swordsmen standing guard in the corners, impassive and watchful.
The man’s face was grave and impassive under a gold embroidered cap as he gestured to some cushions before him. She and her two men sank to their knees, bowed low, and sat up, sitting on their heels.
“I wish your assistance,” he began without preamble. “Aisamo Akkenne, Head of the Council of the Five Clans, has died under mysterious circumstances. I have been told that you have dealt with such matters before, and may be of some assistance to my men. This appears to be beyond their wit.”
“May this one be enlightened?” she asked, eyeing him carefully.
“Dorpak Champa of Taiyung spoke to me last winter of the assistance you gave him in the matter of the Rolang that plagued his household,” he began. “When I heard that you were visiting in this city and guesting at the home of Sonam Champa, his brother and fellow merchant, I thought to bring you into this matter.”
Lin Mei bowed low again, quickly enough to hide the sudden paleness of her face. She recalled that matter well. Anything involving bringing the dead back to life would have been hard to forget, for her and for the Champa clan. And now she was to be involved once more in matters beyond this world.
“I am honored to have been of assistance to my gracious host during my stay in that city,” she said, rising to a sitting position once again. “Do those who should be in the next world still walk on this one?” He shook his head.
“I think not,” he said slowly. “This would appear to be the work of a malevolent spirit, but that they seldom use daggers to do their evil deeds.”
“Daggers?” Lin Mei asked, eyeing him. Like the young guard officer who had escorted her here he was a Tochari, one of the types found here in the city-states and kingdoms on the northern rim of the Tarim Basin which enclosed the great desert called the Taklamakan. He was tall and slender, with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes.
“Who found the body?” she asked, “and where, and when?”
“We all did,” he replied. “I was meeting with the other three council members in this room when we heard some sounds in the next room. When we went to see what had happened we found the body of Aisamo Akkenne and the weapon used.”
“You are one of the remaining council members?” she asked.
“I am,” he said, nodding.
“Can you describe the scene?” she asked.
“Perhaps it would be easier if you saw the room where this occurred,” he said. “That may explain matters better than I can.”
He led all three of them to an adjoining room and stopped just inside, pointing to the floor. A dark red bloodstain stretched half the length of the carpets, some spatters covering a low hardwood table near the center. The stains were fresh, not completely soaked into the carpeting. Hua Chen and Togrul stepped to the side to stand against the wall, their dark eyes taking it all in. She lifted one edge of the carpet, the stain on the wooden floor was smaller than on the carpet; it had happened not too long before. Her eyes narrowed as she let the carpet fall and turned her attention back to the scene. It seemed as if Aisamo had been reading a scroll on the table, judging by the lack of bloodstains in the center. She ran an experienced eye along the stain, tracing a trajectory to the wall on her left.
“Why was he in this room?” she asked.
“He had been asked to retrieve a scroll regarding some state business.”
“This is his house?” she asked.
He nodded. “We met here last night. We take turns hosting the meetings.”
“Where is the scroll?” she asked.
Kamartike looked puzzled. “I do not know,” he replied.
“That did the deed?” she asked, pointing to an object imbedded in a wooden post. Kamartike nodded. She stepped closer for a better examination.
It was all of bronze, the triple-edged blade as long as her hand, all three edges meeting at the point. She looked across the room to a wooden lattice framework set low in the wall. In winter it would have been covered, now it served to let in cooling breezes.
“What is beyond that?” she asked.
“A garden,” Kamartike replied. She nodded, turning to look at the dagger once more.
“I have seen these before,” she said. “It is a phurbu, used in ceremonies to slay evil spirits and demons. But look, all three edges are dull. It is ceremonial weapon.”
“And yet it kill
ed Aisamo Akkenne,” the Magistrate replied. She nodded.
“So it did....” she muttered, wondering at the force required to send it hard enough to go through a man and imbed itself that deeply in the hardwood post.
“May I see the garden?” she asked. Her host shrugged and called for men with torches.
The garden was lush, displaying the wealth of the household. While Togrul and Hua Chen examined the ground closely by torchlight she looked back at the lattice. The openings were barely enough to allow the phurbu to pass through. She looked back up at her men.
“Anything?” she asked.
Togrul shook his head. “No sign of anyone being here,” he said.
How often does the gardener rake the sand?” she asked Kamartike.
“In most households it is done in the morning.”
“May I see the body?” she asked. Kamartike looked shocked for a moment, and then shrugged as if her idiosyncrasies were no concern of his. He led her to a small building nearby, apparently used for storage under more normal circumstances. It occurred to her it still was being used for storage, albeit of the deceased.
Aisamo Akkenne had been a man of moderate height and build, with reddish brown hair starting to gray. The stain pattern on his chest showed whatever had killed him had exited there. A worn basket of split bamboo in the corner furnished a sliver she used to probe the wound. Kamartike stood just outside the doorway, aloof and appearing disinterested in the proceedings. He would not allow himself to be defiled by the presence of death. Lin Mei was not bothered. She had left such concerns behind long before.
It took only a few moments to confirm that something had passed through him at a slight rising angle from behind. The tearing on the cloth seemed to match the triangular star-shaped cross-section of the phurbu and was of the right size. She tossed the sliver in a pile of refuse in the corner and stood.
“The other three council members you were meeting with, where are they now?” He seemed surprised.
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