How could she kill the child in cold blood? The girl was no older than Chen-wu’s youngest sister. Which among them was more worthy of life?
Chen-wu shook the thoughts away and tried to concentrate on practicing her wushu, losing herself in the ancient movements that demanded her full attention and worked her limbs till they ached.
But after a time, her mind plagued her with the same thoughts. She needed counsel and there was no one among the lady’s household she could confide in.
With a small sound of disgust, Chen-wu stopped her practice. With no other weapon than a small, sheathed knife, she climbed over the lady’s wall and dropped down to the street, as silent as a cat. Crouched low, she darted through the shadows and made her way towards her mother’s home.
A half hour later, she emerged from a drainage tunnel that ran beneath the outer wall of the city. As Chen-wu wiped the worst of the grime from her feet, she wondered what her mother would say of her plan. Would she think this, too, was a waste?
Navigating the maze of alleys between the shanties that made up the outer districts, she found their one-room lean-to. Entering from the back, she slithered beneath its heavy tarp.
The scent of unwashed bodies filled Chen-wu’s nostrils and she had to breathe through her mouth lest she gag. She paused to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness inside.
A tendril of smoke from their small cooking fire wafted up towards a small hole, but lost its way and filled the upper half of the room, milling around, waiting for the morning breeze to show it how to get out again. Blinking back tears, Chen-wu made out the form of her sisters huddled close together. Their steady breathing indicated they were asleep. One step away, a large, quivering bulk marked where her mother lay and the night’s customer grunted above her with satisfaction. Her mother moaned in mock pleasure.
When he was finished, he rolled over onto his back and groped for the girls. Abandoning their feint at sleep, the two moved as one away from the man. Chen-wu’s mother grasped at his manhood, distracting him from the other prizes that lurked so near.
Chen-wu grimaced and unsheathed her knife. With its handle, she rapped at the soles of his feet and said, “Pay up and leave.”
Her mother stifled a cry and he squawked in surprise. Snatching up his things, he tossed a coin at Chen-wu’s mother. He cursed at her as he left via a hide that marked their front door.
“Like an evil spirit of the night, you have come back to ruin my business,” her mother hissed. She didn’t bother to get up.
Her sisters bolted towards Chen-wu. With whispered greetings, they hugged her, saying they missed her. They wanted to know where she was, what was she doing, will she ever come back to them?
Chen-wu chuckled and reassured them everything would be all right. To her mother, she said, “I’ve sent you money. Is it not enough?”
Her mother shifted about, dressing herself under her thin blanket, and said nothing. She moved to stand, then thought better of the smoke and kneeled to face her daughter.
Chen-wu steeled herself, then said, “I’ve come to ask for your advice.”
“Bah! Since when have you listened to me?”
The stench of stale liquor wafted over Chen-wu. She passed a hand over her face. “You’ve been drinking,” she said.
Her mother stood then, and approached Chen-wu. If she had expected it, Chen-wu would have moved, but when her mother’s hand darted out, Chen-wu simply stood there. The slap seemed to echo in that small space.
“Where have you been?” her mother asked, her voice shaking.
Chen-wu jutted out her chin to stretch her stinging jaw. She had always thought her own strength had come from her father.
“I sent word. Did you not get it?”
“You’re working for a noblewoman? What noblewoman would hire your ugly, worthless carcass?” She spat the words out and swayed on her feet.
Chen-wu’s sisters slunk away from their mother. They cowered under their blanket, knowing it was best to stay out of her way.
“Outside, Mother,” Chen-wu said, then left the way the man had—cursing under her breath.
When she breathed in the relatively clean air outside, she let out a long sigh and tried to relax the tension that had settled on her shoulders. One side of her face felt on fire. Was it shame? Her mother had often beat her sisters, but never Chen-wu. The smith had a loose fist, but he had only ever hit her to teach her a lesson. And when fighting, Chen-wu expected to get hit. Why did her mother’s slap hurt so much more than any of those blows?
Her mother shuffled out of their home and said, “What do you want?”
Turning, Chen-wu asked her the same thing. “What is it that you want, Mother? Do you not want to see your daughters married to merchant’s sons instead of a poor farmer? Or worse yet, slaved to a brothel?”
“They will get what fate brings them.”
“That is the drink speaking.”
“Is it?” her mother said, hands on her hips. “When your father died, I knew what would become of us. I mourned, and accepted it long ago. You never could.”
Chen-wu gritted her teeth. Again, she had to remember her wushu training, and relaxed her mind and body. “We don’t have to. I have a job now, and if I do well…if I do what I must, then I can afford modest dowries for the girls. I might even be able to move you within the city’s walls.”
“Ha! Don’t make promises you can’t keep, daughter.”
“I’m not promising, Mother. I’m trying.”
Her mother huffed, but said nothing. After a time, she wavered on her feet and made for their lean-to.
“Wait,” Chen-wu said. “I want—”
“What? My blessing? My advice? We were born into a pauper’s life, Chen-wu. Even if your father had lived, we would be scraping a hard earned life. We cannot hope for any more. All one can wish for is that upon our deaths, our spirits find a warm home. If you have found that in this life, then leave us. We don’t need you.”
She darted back inside, leaving Chen-wu staring after her, no closer to an answer.
The week before the Emperor’s twelfth choice was to be presented, Chen-wu requested an audience with Lady Longyu. She often spent the late, warm mornings in the garden and that was where Chen-wu stood before her.
Chen-wu wore a fine tunic and trousers. Leather straps belted short swords across her back, and she wore two fighting-knives at her waist. Her new, soft boots were immaculate, and their long laces held her leggings tight to her calves. When the lady called her ‘warrioress’, the word no longer sounded like a lie to Chen-wu’s ears.
Even so, she found the words she wanted to say hard to come.
“Each day you look more and more like the Watz,” Lady Longyu said.
“I feel I am ready, my lady.”
“Ready? I am sure you are. You were ready the first day I saw you. But that means nothing. Only money will buy you an audience with the recruiters.”
“Yes, my lady, which is why I have come to you today.” She paused, then blurted out, “I want that audience now.”
The lady stared at her. “Now?”
“Yes, before I am presented.”
“That is absurd. You will go before the emperor, you kill the child-bride, then you receive payment. If you choose to use that money to enter the Watz, so be it.”
“But if I don’t succeed, they will have my body. And though it may take them time to recognize the painted woman they saw—twice by your side—eventually, someone will link my assassin’s body back to you.”
The lady said nothing, and gestured for Chen-wu to go on.
“But if I test for the Watz now, and am rejected, I can make a show as I leave the testing grounds. I can say I’ll strike at the heart of the emperor to show them how wrong they were.”
A wicked smile stretched across the lady’s face. “Go on,” she said.
“That will protect you, if I fail to kill the child-bride. They’ll be less likely to associate me with you as the
y’ll have a memory of a warrioress in the training yard turned assassin in scornful revenge. I won’t be a mystery they must solve.”
“What if they choose you to be one amongst the ranks of the Watz?”
Then I will betray you, Chen-wu thought.
She allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. “We proceed as planned. If I test the day before my presentation, and I am accepted into the Watz, I’m sure they will not begrudge me a day or two to attend family affairs. I’ll stand before the emperor for rejection, hide among the servants of the palace, then kill the child-bride that very night.”
Lady Longyu glared at the fish pond so long, Chen-wu thought the lady meant to boil the water and steam the fish with the heat of her gaze.
“I don’t like it. A change of plans so close to our goal…but if you do not kill her… Why bring this up now? What has changed?” The lady’s voice was as hard as stone.
Nothing, Chen-wu thought, but how to explain that she had a conscience where the noblewoman did not? Chen-wu spoke slowly, trying to keep her wits about. “Last month, when you showed me the child-bride, something about her retinue bothered me.”
“They were all old men.”
“Yes, exactly. I thought nothing of it at the time, but it has plagued me each night since. Does it not seem odd she would not have guards ready and able to protect her?”
The lady gave Chen-wu an annoyed look. “She has the Watz. The emperor must have extended their services to his chosen—” She cut herself off. “I see. You will have to elude the Watz themselves to kill the child. You’re not sure you can do it.”
Chen-wu bowed her head, hoping the lady did not see the triumph in her eyes.
“Very well, warrioress. It is a wise soldier that knows her limits, and smart to learn of their enemy before battle. You’ll have your money for the Watz test by the morrow.”
Nodding, Chen-wu spun on her heels and left the garden. A small muscle twitched at the corner of her eye. She swatted at it, as if it were a fly, and hoped she had chosen wisely.
The Watz training yard sat adjacent to the palace stables. Pairs of women dressed in light, padded armour sparred along its length, each with a different weapon. One fought off a swordswoman with a spear, while another used her bare hands to thwart one wielding a long staff. Chen-wu watched a pair that appeared to be weaponless, but rips in their shoulder and thigh pads told another story.
The sun was high in the sky, and the air felt thick and heavy with heat. The stench of sweat mixed with horse manure perfumed the yard.
Someone clamped their hand on Chen-wu’s shoulder, pushing her forward.
“Are you ready?” The tester’s voice was soft, his touch rough. When Chen-wu faced him, his eyes held mischief.
“For your sake, I hope so,” he continued. “You paid handsomely for this opportunity. You’ll only get the one.”
Chen-wu brought her right fist to meet her left palm and bowed deeply. “I am ready.”
He shouted for all to stand at attention. The Watz recruits stopped their fighting and lined up against the longest length of the yard in what little shade there was. Sweat glistened their faces and soaked their braids. For a few breaths, their chests heaved. Then, as if on cue, they all appeared as serene as statues, and looked just as hard.
Watz warriors began to line an upper walkway that surrounded the yard, presumably leading to the stables. They chatted, giving Chen-wu appraising looks and then coins passed hands.
Chen-wu stomach clenched at the thought that if they killed her now, she hadn’t arranged for the welfare of her family, so sure had she been that she would pass their test. But standing before the recruits now, most of them a head taller, she wondered if she should bet against herself.
“Remove your weapons,” the tester said.
A slight tremor went through Chen-wu, but she quickly obeyed. She laid all her new weapons to one side of the yard.
The tester indicated she should stand in the center of the yard and she did so.
“We do not want you, worm. We only want the best. And anyone can tell from your putrid stench that you slithered out from the scum living beyond the city walls. You will have to convince us you are dangerous. So dangerous that it is better to have you here among us, rather than out there—against us.”
Chen-wu allowed the insults to wash over her. It was nothing compared to the taunts the master sifu would shout at the top of his lungs. Though never directed at her, Chen-wu had internalized them the same as the boys the sifu trained had.
She did as the sifu taught; she opened her mind and took everything in. From the sneers the Watz warriors directed at her to the hatred in the recruits’ eyes, she directed their energy past her, while breathing in a regular rhythm that she could maintain no matter the effort.
The tester made a miniscule nod, and a recruit with a sword shot forward.
Her movements were as slow as the air felt heavy. Chen-wu twisted to one side, and darted a hand out just as the woman’s blade whooshed by.
The recruit screamed. Her sword dropped to the ground and her arm hung at an odd angle. Groans came from the Watz warriors watching from above. Chen-wu winced, hoping she had only dislocated the woman’s elbow and not broken it.
Another nod from the tester.
A spear’s whine. Chen-wu wheeled her arms, spinning about its shaft as the spear went by. It thumped into the wooden sidewall.
Someone whistled. Chen-wu allowed a small smile to grace her lips.
The tester sent out the two who appeared as weaponless as Chen-wu. They stalked about her. She could feel their gaze assessing each of her limbs.
Chen-wu stood before them, arms at her sides, legs a shoulder width apart, perched on the balls of her feet. She closed her eyes and listened to their movements with her body, just as sifu had taught his students while she, the cleaning girl, did the same from behind a privacy screen.
The air gathered in front of a dart pressing against Chen-wu’s neck and she plucked it from its course, spinning then releasing it back towards the recruit. Something banged against the back of her knees and she allowed her body to fall into a back flip. She kicked her legs out. A recruit grunted as foot met chin.
Like a cat, Chen-wu landed on her feet and opened her eyes.
Fists flew. Some landed, but most were re-directed and Chen-wu’s strikes produced more grunts and cries. Another recruit danced towards Chen-wu, short blades swinging.
Breaking free of the others, Chen-wu ducked and swung a leg out, tripping the dancer. Turning, she pushed her torso back and kicked out, running across the recruit’s back as she fell. She continued forward, pressing the woman down into the sand as she made her escape.
“Stop!” The tester’s shout echoed in the void that filled the yard.
Chen-wu turned to the center of the yard. The dancer lay face down, her blades beneath her. A darkness grew about her. It took a few breaths for Chen-wu to realize the would-be Watz was dead.
Her blood ran cold. It was one thing to fight in the alleys outside the city where lives were as numerous as the sands on a beach. Fighters died every night, no one cared. Here, to spill noble blood might be tolerated, but if it lead to the end of a life, it would probably cost Chen-wu’s her own.
She knelt, bent at the waist and prostrated herself before the tester. With her face in the ground, Chen-wu couldn’t see, but she could hear the remaining recruits back away. His steps were so light upon the dirt she didn’t realize the tester stood above her until he spoke.
“Get up, serpent.”
Chen-wu moved to do so and pain erupted across her back, pressing her into the ground. Sucking in sand, she stiffened her body, spun, and reached for his leg, expecting it to come crashing into her face. Her hand met air.
His kick to her side made her curl in protection. Coughing, she turned it into a spin, then lifted on one knee. Her arms blocked more blows aimed at her head, torso and thighs. He moved too fast. She rolled away.
Some
how, she managed to stand. The tester rained more blows upon her head. She ducked and blocked, afraid to strike back lest the Watz warriors above rained arrows upon her. The yard filled with her heavy breathing as she struggled to keep up. She backed away. He kicked and punched with a fury that contrasted with his clean, smooth expression.
He landed a powerful blow to her chest. It sent her back, arms pinwheeling, and she realized he was going to kill her. If she died here, it was the end to it all. Her sisters would become whores, her mother would descend into chaos, and even Lady Longyu would remain a widow. She held back a laugh at the last thought.
The tester cocked his head to one side. “Do you mock me, mongrel?”
Chen-wu wanted to say no, but instead she grinned. He flew at her.
It was his only mistake and Chen-wu took advantage of it.
She turned and ran straight into the yard-wall. At the last second, she leapt, running up the side and pushing off into a back flip. She landed behind the tester and pummeled his kidneys. He twisted, but so close to the wall, he couldn’t move in time. She jumped up, grabbed his head and snapped.
His limp body fell to the floor.
She turned around. Her limbs felt dead and her ragged breath sounded too loud in her ears. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and the blows she had ignored while fighting made themselves known. Her legs trembled.
A line of fully armed Watz warriors faced her. The recruits were gone as were any other bystander. For a moment, she thought maybe they would accept her as their equal.
But she knew that was absurd and she couldn’t fight them all. Not now. She sank to her knees and hoped they would give her a quick death.
The dungeon they threw her in had a window a hand-width wide. The sill was so thick, it seemed to Chen-wu she peered down a tunnel. But it let in light, indicating it was morning—the day she was supposed to be presented as a bride to the emperor.
She laughed, the barks bouncing off her cell’s stone walls, and stared at her hands. The skin on her knuckles had peeled back, exposing ligament and a bit of bone. Blood crusted and bruises bloomed. She was stripped nearly bare, and chains bound her hands and shackled her feet. They pained her, but she relished it. She deserved it. She had failed by succeeding at her wildest dreams. Her mother had been right. Chen-wu was worthless, unable to control her own strength, and now her family had a criminal stain to add to their name.
Lucky or Unlucky? 13 Stories of Fate Page 17