by G R Matthews
There was silence in the room as the four men waited on the Emperor’s comments. For his part, the Emperor was staring at the ceiling, stroking his chin with one hand. Moving only his eyes, Haung took in the expression of the two men seated at their tables and the general who stood, alone, in the centre of the room. The latter did not look pleased with Haung’s words and the Jiin-Wei could only hope that he had not made an enemy.
“Suggests, indicates, maybe and suspect. That is what I hear today. No firm information upon which to act and that worries me. We need better information, General.” The golden eyes fixed the general in their sights.
“My lord, the army are doing all they can. Scouts sent out beyond the wall do not always return,” the general stammered out his reply.
“I agree, General. The fault is not with you or your army. I agree with Captain Haung on this.” The general bowed to the Emperor who continued speaking without pausing to acknowledge the gesture. “We need to think of a different strategy, but whilst we determine that I think a few layers of heavily armed patrols out past the wall may be in order. Don’t risk too many men, but see how far out you can push the patrols before they run into difficulties. If it is less than three days ride, I want to know immediately. Perhaps we can rely on the trade masters for information from the lands to the west and east, though this will be slower in coming I suspect.”
“My lord,” the three officials bowed and left the room. Haung was stopped by the Emperor’s voice.
“Haung, I brought you here to speak your mind. You are not too bogged down with the need to score political points or seek power. Feel free to speak and give us your thoughts.”
“Yes, my lord,” Haung said.
“Do not concern yourself with the general either. He is a wise man and already knew of the weaknesses with his information. Being told by someone else will not have been the most pleasurable of experiences, but sometimes being brought down a peg or two is needed.”
“Yes, my lord.” Haung bowed and left the room, leaving the Emperor alone with his thoughts.
Chapter 11
“They’re back,” Boqin called as the room shook.
The assembled Wu rushed to the door and outside into the bright sunshine. Zhou was the last through. The ground shook again, accompanied by the sound of tiles falling from roofs and smashing onto the stone roads outside.
“Let’s go,” Boqin commanded. “Xióngmāo, you stay here and be ready to treat any wounded. Zhou, I’d tell you to stay behind but I don’t think it will do any good. Once you have called your spirit, I will show you how to grow.”
The other Wu found a clear piece of ground and settled down. Some sat cross-legged, others knelt, a few lay down. As each found their place they flickered and faded from view. If he concentrated, Zhou could make out their forms as faint distortions in the air, a heat haze over the grassland, a mirage. They were there but they were not. Zhou sat, his back against the wall, rested the short staff across his lap and sought the blue thread in his mind. He found it, reached out and started climbing upwards.
The journey was faster and smoother, requiring less effort than the last time and a few seconds later he was there, in the spirit world. The forest swelled with the energy, he could feel the tickle of it across his skin. He called to his spirit and there it was in front of him, claws digging into the earth. Zhou poured himself into it. He became the panther.
*Zhou, look and follow,* Boqin said and the words sounded in Zhou’s mind rather than his ears. A series of images and impressions flowed through Zhou’s mind from Boqin’s, the feeling of drawing on other places, other realms. A sense of returning that which was donated, of becoming whole again. *Essentially you are retrieving a part of the true spirit that is in every other panther in our realm. Don’t draw too much that you leave them with nothing, but from each take a little.*
*Will it hurt them?* Zhou asked as he began to draw pieces to him.
*No. As long as you do not draw too much or for too long.* Boqin the bear grew, increasing in size, and the panther grew alongside it. *You have it. Now, follow, we must go to the others.*
The image, of a place, formed in Zhou’s mind and he ran into it. The bear beside him did the same. They raced down the mountain towards the valley. Its narrow, meandering and braided stream had created a wide flood plain. In Zhou’s world, much of the stream was managed by the villages and temples. The power of its flow used to drive water wheels or drained and corralled to make fish ponds. Here, though, the river found a path suited to its own nature.
As they descended, Zhou saw that the valley floor was carpeted by a racing horde of the horse creatures. Near the base mountain those hordes crashed against the defending Wu. Giant animals were kicking, biting, gouging and butting the much smaller horses. A monkey bounded through the attacking creatures, landing on some, grabbing others with its hand and dashing them together in an explosion of bone, blood and red light. Further away, an elephant stomped the creatures beneath its great feet, three or four at time. Elsewhere, a wolf and fox worked in tandem. The larger, grey furred wolf, snarling and biting the creatures, blood dripping from its jaws. The smaller, rust coloured fox, darting between the wolf’s legs, nipping and tearing at the creatures that sought to attack the wolf.
Everywhere he looked, the Wu were holding their own but the tide of creatures was without end. And then he was amongst them, his claws raking out, slicing through the sharp-toothed horse creatures, their flesh parting like the skin of a ripe peach under a paring knife. He barrelled through the front ranks, letting his mass and inertia force them out of the way. In their midst he turned, feet finding purchase in the soft ground and leapt over their heads. He swept more out of his way with great swipes of his claws when he landed. He spun again, his sharp teeth biting down on a creature. The horse screamed in agony, a strangely human sound, before blood burst from its mouth. Zhou shook his head, the corpse flapping in his jaws, before dropping it to the floor and driving back into the creatures.
*What are those?* Boqin’s alarmed thought spread out to every Wu.
Zhou looked up. Against the clear blue of the sky, bright sparks of fire were flying towards them. The horses pulled back as the sparks closed in.
*Biānfú,* Boqin directed, *what can you see?*
*A Bat’s eyes are not the best for this,* Biānfú said as he glided through the sky towards the oncoming sparks. *I’ll need to get closer.*
Zhou padded back to Boqin. *What are they?*
The bear swung its head towards Zhou. *I’ve never seen or heard of anything like those.*
Boqin held Zhou’s gaze for a moment, there was worry in the look.
*Boqin,* Biānfú sent, *I think that they are some kind of bird. But my echoes are just passing through them. It’s as if they were made of...*
*Biānfú?* Boqin called. *Biānfú?*
There was silence. Zhou focused his eyes upon the advancing yellow and orange birds, seeking out the speck of black that would be the bat, Biānfú, amongst them.
*Boqin, I can’t see him,* Zhou said.
*Neither can I.* Boqin lifted his muzzle into the air and roared.
The birds began to descend towards the waiting Wu and their forms became clearer. They had the shape of birds, wings outstretched and long, narrow bodies between, but it was fire not feathers on which they flew. The flock pulled out of their dive in perfect time above the heads of the horse creatures and raced onwards.
*Yīng,* Boqin called out towards the sky.
A giant eagle swept down from the mountainside, its cry echoing along the valley. With wings stretched wide and claws extended, it fell into the midst of the fire-birds. They scattered. With great sweeps of its wings it rose back into the air. The fire-birds, their formation lost, turned to either side, clearing the path directly ahead of Zhou.
The eagle cried again and dived, the buffeting wind from its wings ruffling Zhou’s fur and stinging his eyes. One of the fire-birds came too close and its body flew apar
t, its fire snuffed out by the rushing air.
Zhou shouted,* Yīng, again.*
*I’ll try,* Yīng’s strong feminine voice came back to him, *but there are so many.*
Then the eagle let out a cry of agony and Zhou saw smoke rising from her wings. His sensitive nose caught the scent of burning feathers. She cried again, wings flapping faster and faster as more fire-birds streaked towards her. Some were snuffed out by the downdrafts, but others swept over her wings and body. Where they touched, her feathers caught fire.
*There are too many,* she cried out.
*Fly, get away,* Boqin called. *Everyone else, back away from them.*
*We can’t retreat,* Zhou said.
*We have no choice at the moment,* Boqin said as he backed away, up the mountainside. *We’ve lost Biānfú, and Yīng is hurt. I don’t know how to fight them. Not out here in the open. Amongst the trees they may not find it as easy to attack us. Now, run.*
As one, the Wu turned and ran back towards the tree line on the lower slopes. Behind them came the thunder of hooves.
Entering the tree line, the Wu began to shrink, hiding below canopy. Letting go some of the spirit they had pulled to them.
*Hold them here,* Boqin commanded.
The gathered Wu waited and watched the devil horses and fire-birds close in on their brittle line.
The horses stopped, hooves scrabbling at the ground, before they reached the trees, too far away for any Wu to race out of the protective covering of the trees. They would be leaving themselves open to attack from the fire-birds and then being surrounded by the horses.
In the sky, fire-birds circled and small groups of three or four swooped down to brush against the branches and leaves. The trees smouldered and caught alight. The fire-birds let out a great cry, echoed by the horses. The green wood began to char and darken. The cracks of splitting wood and pops of boiling sap sounded amongst the trees. Dark smoke rose into the sky and a low layer of dense soot began to obscure Zhou’s vision.
*Back away, deeper into the forest,* Boqin called them.
*Be careful,* Yīng’s soft voice came accompanied by an image of the forest from above. It was a simple task to spot the invading army of horse creatures who stood on the edge of the forest and the flock of fire-birds circling above. However, it was also clear that a group of the flaming birds had broken off and were setting fire to the forest behind the Wu line, cutting them off from retreat.
*We’re trapped,* Zhou said.
Then, before Zhou and Boqin, a blue spectre faded into view against the dark smoke.
*I have Biānfú,* Xióngmāo’s voice spoke from the ghostly image of her panda. *He is badly hurt, but he told me what he saw before he passed out. Boqin, you have to call him. You are out of choices.*
The great bear’s head dipped. *I have. He is coming.*
*I’m sorry,* Xióngmāo said and the panda faded from view.
*Who is coming?* Zhou asked.
*You’ve met him,* Boqin’s head swung away from Zhou’s gaze. *We need to hold the line until he gets here. Dà Xiàng,* he called to the elephant, *can you call some reflections to aid? Yīng, can you?*
Zhou listened in as the deep voice of Dà Xiàng and then the higher pitch of Yīng agree. *What are they going to do?*
*Each Wu is the true spirit and to grow we call the reflection of it to us. They are going to call on the spirits that exist in our world and ask them to fight for us here. They will not truly be here, in the spirit realm, but enough of their spirit will resonate with this world to make it possible. They will be solid and able to fight, but not for long. A few minutes at the most. Watch.* Boqin turned his face to the sky.
Out of the blue expanse, grey shapes formed, took on definition, becoming the shadow of an eagle. The shadows shrieked out their own battle cry and fell amongst the fire-birds who, distracted now from their purpose, turned to fight. The aerial dance was all at once graceful, beautiful, complex and viscous. Where shadow struck fire-bird, or fire-bird attacked shadow, an eruption of blue and red light destroyed both. The fire-birds soon gave up attacking and sought, instead, to keep away from the shadow-birds.
Between the trees, grey shapes of shadow elephants tramped, knocking down trees in their drive to reach the horse creatures on the plains. The fires ahead of Zhou began to die as a natural break was created by the stampeding elephants. He could see clearly as they, line abreast, ploughed into the herd of horses. Each elephant, the size of three horses, stomped through the front lines and continued on, deep into their ranks. Zhou watched panic set in as the horses close to the rampaging elephants tried to turn and retreat through those behind.
*Come on,* Boqin called. *The reflections will not last much longer. Attack now and push them back.*
The Wu broke from the trees, following the path of the shadow-elephants into the mass of horses. Zhou bit and tore at those that were fleeing the shadow-beasts. His paws batted away others, sending them tumbling into other horses. Blood covered the grass plain and the screams of the injured, maimed and dying drowned out thought. He let his animal instincts take over, the spirit now in command of their shared body. His sharp claws hooking into soft bellies, pulling and dragging out entrails, jaw crushing spines, sharp teeth tearing out throats. The saltiness of blood on his tongue was a heady, intoxicating drink for the hunter.
A dark shadow blotted out the sun and, in the midst of the carnage, he looked up.
Chapter 12
Haung stopped by the soldiers’ mess on the way back home from the meeting. The midday meal had already been served and there was little left, but that did not bother him. He picked up a clay bowl from the stack by the door and dipped it into the large pan of soup. There was always, in a soldiers’ mess, a pan of soup over a fire. It was just the way it was. Soldiers, after a day’s hard training, desired soup. It was warm and filling without being heavy in your stomach. Grabbing a bing, a thick unleavened disc of bread, he made his way to an empty table and sat down.
Tearing the bread in half, he dipped it into the soup. As expected, the bread tasted good and the soup tasted of very little. All the flavour had boiled out long ago, but the warm liquid coated his tongue and sparked memories. He chewed the bread, thinking about the changes that had occurred since he and Jiao had arrived.
He still drew the salary of a full captain but had no defined duties. He trained with Shifu and there was the un-spoken understanding that he was being trained for something. Hunting down Jing Ke would be part of it. But now there were complications. The wall was in trouble, or soon to be. The enemy were advancing and consolidating their hold on the lands beyond the wall. The wall had been built to protect the Empire. To stop the raiding parties from the north. Where were those raiders? Haung took another bite of bread. They could be fighting the enemy who had invaded their land or they could be part of it. If they had run from it, he pondered, then they did not run to us for help. Not that it would, necessarily, have been forthcoming. Many generals would happily see the people of the plains destroyed.
Haung raised the soup bowl to his lips and took a drink of the thin broth. The general would not be happy with him despite the assurances of the Emperor. The messenger was always the one most at risk. And then there was the mysterious noble who had been speaking to Jiao.
The training of a Jiin-Wei demanded that he find the threat, isolate and destroy it. Threats were not permitted to exist, but without access to a network of informants or those who lived on the shadier side of the city, the people who knew that knowing everything was the best defence, his possible actions were limited. Haung fiddled with his necklace, tracing its contours with an absent sweep of his thumb. Worse still, whatever action he took could not reflect back on the Emperor or Shifu. It would not be honourable.
Lost in thought, Haung finished off the soup and bread then carried the bowl to the wash basins at the far end of the hall.
* * *
The sun was beginning to set over the walls that surrounded the Holy Cit
y, casting long shadows across the open areas of grass or decorative paving. Haung walked along the paths towards home, the soup still warm in his stomach and memories of Yaart in his head. The paths were not crowded, they never were. To live in the Holy City you had to be chosen by one of the five families, or the Emperor himself. To call the Holy City home was to be important. Yet, for all its grandeur it was, at times, a sterile place.
Most everyone who passed by gave a little bow, which he returned. It was a mark of respect and also a hint that no-one knew quite where he and his family stood in the hierarchy within the walls. Your position in the ranks was always a matter of delicate balance. Of course, he thought, being a Jiin-Wei amongst rich nobles was bound to cause some consternation. Half of them would suspect he was here to spy on them. The other half would believe he was there to spy on their neighbours. Indeed, on occasion, some folks gave him a knowing smile alongside the bow.
The ones who did not bow knew they ranked above him. Those he recognised, Haung would favour with the respect they deserved. Those he did not know he, without acknowledgment, walked on by. Let them pull him up for his disrespect, or worry that perhaps they had misunderstood his position in the Holy City. Haung could feel their annoyance and worry as he passed by. He smiled at these little victories.
He was still smiling as he turned a corner a few streets from home. Ahead, at the next crossroads, he spied the noble who had been speaking to Jiao in the market. The man was walking with two others. One was certainly a bodyguard as he carried a seven foot Cha, a trident with barbed tips, without effort in his right hand. The third man was deep in conversation with the noble. The bodyguard flicked an appraising look towards Haung and dismissed him as a threat. The other men did not break from their conversation or raise their heads to look around. They were too far away for Haung to intercept, though he desperately wanted to find out who the noble was. He looked at the lengthening shadows and made a decision.