He smiled. “You don’t know that. I might.”
She leaned her forehead in to rest against his, said nothing. She didn’t need to.
“Remember,” he said. “It’s a diplomatic mission. If I can speak to the Khan, I might be able to convince him. Especially if I bring the weapon. He’ll see. He’ll understand.”
“You won’t make it to the Khan.”
“It’s the only way. I need to make him understand. I can’t believe he won’t listen. I can’t believe that. Otherwise, well, you know…”
She nodded. He sighed.
“The kittens should do well in the Imperial Nursery.”
She smiled now. “Mongrel kittens in the Imperial Nursery.”
“Stranger things have happened, luv. Never forget that.”
“I won’t.”
“If they won’t allow it, then you go home with Kirin. To our home. If Mummie’s still alive, she’ll be delighted to meet you.”
“And our mongrel babies.”
“Honestly, I don’t think she’ll care at this point. She never had her stars pinned on an advantageous marriage. Not for me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And look what I got. I still have more than my share of luck, don’t I? Because I have you.”
She was not so easily placated. As stubborn as a yak.
“What if I can speak to Kirin? Make him understand?”
“Well, that was our deal, wasn’t it? If Kirin is in, then we have troops. And if we have both Upper and Eastern Kingdoms represented, we stand a chance at convincing the dogs and avoiding a whole lot of unnecessary bloodshed in the process. So yes, my love. If you can manage to convince my brother to send some feline troops with us, allow us to use the Wall until we reach Shen’foxhindi, then you may take your chances along with the rest of us.”
“And the kittens will still go to Pol’Lhasa.”
“The kittens will still go to Pol’Lhasa.”
“Do you have a dagger?”
“What? A dagger?”
“Yep. A dagger. Do you have one? I know you do. It’s in your boot.”
“Why?”
She kissed the tip of his nose now.
“I might need it when I go.”
“Go where?”
“To convince your brother.” She smiled sweetly. “That was the deal.”
“Ah. Hassasin now, are we?”
She grinned. “I prefer to think of myself as a resourceful diplomat.”
He reached down a hand to slip it up and out of his yak-hide boots. He passed it, hilt-first, into her waiting hand.
“You are a far better politician than I give you credit for, my love. I am utterly impressed.”
She slipped it in her belt.
“Pack our things, Kerris-your-name-was. We’re going north.”
***
Sireth benAramis opened his eyes. There was an owl watching him.
He pushed himself up on his elbows, looked to the dwindling fire. Ursa was bedded down under her thick yak hide and the jaguar, Yahn Nevye, sat cross-legged and staring into the flames. He had still not loosened his knot and his ears were tipped with frost.
“Is that the same owl?” the Seer asked.
Nevye grunted.
“What does he want?”
“I don’t know.” The jaguar shrugged, did not look at him. “I don’t speak to owls.”
“Of course not,” said Sireth. “My mistake.”
He rolled to his knees, reached for the small pot in which they melted snow and made tea. Ursa grumbled something at him—he could distinctly make out the word ‘idiot’—and pulled the hide higher to cover her head. Mi-Hahn was hunting. He could hear her thoughts echoing from the night sky. She had spied a fat rabbit, was planning on bringing it to the fire for breakfast. He smiled to himself. She was nowhere near the hunter Path had been, but still, he could not imagine his life without her now. She was a wild, happy child.
“I had a dream,” said Nevye, still looking at the fire. “I think it was a dream. It may have been a vision, but it was unclear.”
Sireth paused a moment before dropping the handful of leaves into the pot. Nevye never talked to him like this, like an equal. He would not disrespect the chance.
“What do you recall?”
“A wolf,” he said. “A blue wolf. But strange, as if made of painted glass.”
“Painted, yes. And a yellow cat?”
“You saw the same?”
“Yes.”
“Then it was not a dream.”
“No. A vision, most definitely.”
Nevye frowned, rubbed his arms, cold. “What does it mean?”
“We will find out tomorrow, I should think. When we reach the Wall. What else have you seen?”
“The girl.”
“That is all?”
The man’s expression grew guarded and he looked back into the flames. “Many dogs. An archer. A cheetah.”
“If the Alchemist is there, I will kill her,” grumbled Ursa from the hides. “Then I will kill all the dogs. And then both of you.”
Sireth smiled. “Continue.”
“Eyes. Dragons, a monster and a warrior covered in blood. A figure with white eyes and white hair. ”
“The Yellow Cat. Do you see him clearly?”
“No. Not clearly. Why? Do you?”
“No. He is the same as the Blue Wolf. Not real, a symbol.”
“Yes.”
No no no bad bird bad no!
There was a rustle and thump as Mi-Hahn dropped onto the snow next to the owl. She began to cry in her shrill voice and beat at the owl with her wings. The owl did likewise and both talons and hooked beaks were brought to bear before he left the snow and disappeared into the breaking skies of dawn. The young falcon watched him go, wings spread, beak open, hissing as feathers drifted down onto the snowy rocks around them. She began to tear at the body of the rabbit, clearly forgetting her intention to share.
“Idiot birds.”
As the water bubbled in the little pot, Sireth gazed at the dawning sky.
“Dawn glow red, Stay in bed.”
Nevye glanced up. The clouds, their companions for days, were breaking to reveal a sky the colour of blood.
***
In my dreams, I am in the gar. My arms are suspended from poles and my legs are bound together. They have pulled out my mane, fist by fist. I have never felt such pain. It has been a lifetime of pain.
Then, they take my hands, press my palms so the claws extend and with their crude iron blades, they take them. One by one, they take my claws and the bones of my fingers with them. The pain of my head is nothing compared to this.
I do not even feel it when they take my tail.
These are my dreams. Each night. Every night. Only this. Even when falling asleep in Ling’s arms, these were my dreams. And Kerris wants me to go back.
I understand what he is saying. In my head, I understand but in my heart, in my bones, I cannot accept it. I try to tell myself he doesn’t know what he’s asking, but I answer myself that he does. He knows full well and yet he asks anyway. He doesn’t think of me. He never has.
Fallon comes to me through the wall. I think she must have a dagger for she cuts open the rice paper and slips through. I wonder if the guard at my door has seen her or if she is a dream herself. If she is, then she is the first dream that doesn’t involve dogs.
I am sitting by a candle and she joins me. I think I ask her if Bo Fujihara is expected to pay for both the window and now the wall. She says, yep, or something like that. Tigers. I am still believing she is a dream so I am not really listening.
She tells me that they need troops or Kerris will die. That he, Bo and the Chi’Chen army are going north with or without cats but that without cats, they will all die. And when the Ancestors come, all the Empires will fall and we will serve the Ancestors and bring them tea and be petted and made to fight in arenas to kill each other for sport. I don’t want to hear any of it although I know it to be true.
I
tell her I will think on this.
She asks me about Ling, about her baby whom I have never seen. She tells me that Kerris is a wonderful father. I’m sure he is, I tell her. He is just a terrible brother. She tells me that he wept for days, those first days on the boat and slept with the katanah clutched in his arms. I call it manipulation. She calls it diplomacy. She kisses me on the cheek and leaves, back through the hole in the wall that she made.
I don’t sleep for the rest of the night, but at least there are no dogs.
- an excerpt from the journal of Kirin Wynegarde-Grey
***
For the first time in days, the sun graced them with her presence. She did so infrequently in winter, as the nights were long and the moon was stronger but that morning, she did. The streets of Kohdari were once again filled with horses but twenty times more since the Gate of Five Hands had been opened and the Chi’Chen army flowed across the bridge and into the city. They had begun the process of preparing the wall and kestrels had been sent to all battleforts along the route. Hay and water, tea and bread were being stocked for the trek, although no riders would leave the backs of their mounts over the next days. The foundry of Shen’foxhindi was a five-day ride along the Wall and nowhere in the history of the Upper Kingdom had anything been seen near the number of horses and men riding as was expected now.
It was an exhilarating thing and Kirin watched it all from the double doors of the Gate. The wind was strong and as he stood, hands on hips, watching the logistics of preparing such a force, the flapping banners of both Upper and Eastern Kingdoms filled him with pride. He was wearing the full yori, his bolt of golden mane flowing from the kabuto like a banner of its own, and once again he heard the term ‘Khan-maker’ whispered among the soldiers gathered before him.
Bo Fujihara was at the head of the Chi’Chen force astride a small chestnut with beads braided into its long mane and tail. Chi’Chen horses were smaller than Imperial ones, in fact resembling aSiffh more than Shenan, but still, their tack was impressive, their armour colourful and gleaming, and it was all the city could do to hold such a number.
Captain Windsor-Chan stood with him, supervising the riders, the armour, the swords and the rations. Kohdari was, after all, his town, these men—his soldiers. Ambassador Han stood next to him, hands clasped, eyes roving, praying that the ceremonious force would leave Kohdari without mishap or dishonour. For his part, Kirin was surprised that there had been no incident as yet, for while there was no war between the two Kingdoms, there was no easy peace either. Soldiers were soldiers, no matter what the race.
“Wow, oh, oh wow…”
He turned to see Kerris and Fallon step under the ebony pillars and through the dancing cranes of the doors. Both were dressed for warmth and practicality, wrapped in cloaks of bear and bison. There was little night blue or forest green to be seen and he found himself missing the little identifying dashes of colour that so characterized their journey in the Year of the Tiger. Each had a kitten—Soladad perched on Fallon’s hip and little Kirin slung over his father’s back. A woman from the village was to accompany the babies on the trek to Pol’Lhasa, a tigress of perhaps forty summers, and she waited in the crowds, horseless and smiling.
“Well,” said Kerris. “This is impressive. How many are you giving us, then?”
“I will give you ninety of my Dual Division. The remaining ten will be making the journey back to Pol’Lhasa tomorrow.”
Kerris nodded. “And we have two thousand and thirty of our own. That’s decent enough, I suppose.”
Kirin smiled. “Captain Windsor-Chan has just informed me that once the men of Kohdari heard of this mission, they were all eager to participate. At last count, we have an additional three hundred and fifty soldiers on top of my ninety.”
Kerris raised his brows. “Well, that’s something, then. Thank you both. It says much about the men of this town.” And he bowed.
Windsor-Chan bowed and Kirin bit back a wry smile. Kerris was indeed a diplomat at heart. He could speak ‘military’ well enough when needed.
“We will have two hundred feline riders at the fore and two hundred at the rear,” said Ambassador Han. “It is a matter of pride and of course, national security.”
“Naturally,” said Kerris but his attention was fixed on the blood bay Imperial stallion being led onto the street. He wore tack of ox-blood red, with red and gold tassels at his browband, breastplate and flank. Over his haunch flapped the twin dragons of the Fangxieng Dynasty. At his side, young aSiffh danced nervously. He wore no tack, no saddle, bridle nor halter, not even a rope to indicate ownership. His large eye was wild, his head high and tossing.
Kerris studied the horses as they were led directly to the foot of the Five Hands Gate.
“Fine animals, Kirin,” he said. “Is that your little desert friend? The one from KhaBull?”
“The very one.”
“He’s filling out nicely. Why are they being brought out?”
“I am coming with you, Kerris.”
Kerris narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Oh, oh I’m so happy,” squealed the tigress and she swung her daughter high in the air. Kirin was grateful she didn’t kiss him again.
“Why?” asked Kerris again.
“Because this is a time of unification, Kerris. I understand that. And there is nothing that unifies our people as the reinstatement of the Shogun caste. Any Shogun-General would do. You just so happen to get me.”
Kerris said nothing.
“Besides, if there is war, the Blood and the Jade Fangs have a proven history as dog killers.” He nodded at the katanah at his brother’s hip. “As do you.”
Kerris stared at him for a long moment
“Fair enough,” he said and turned back to study the wall of horses assembled before him. “I see Fallon’s painted horse but where’s mine? Am I still expected to tack the horses, brother?”
There it was again, the darkness, the challenge. They still lived on this road. Yin and Yang. It seemed the eternal way of things. Their stars would never change.
Kirin sighed.
“Whistle.”
“What’s that?”
“Whistle, Kerris. Loud and long.”
The grey lion frowned, slipped his fingers between his teeth. The sound he produced had been rumored to shatter glass on occasion, and even experienced soldiers winced, covering their ears.
The town square was silent save for the howl of the wind, the jingle of horses, the squeak of leather.
“Again.”
Kerris stared at him again before repeating the sound. Again, the entire town was silent, straining to hear something, anything. They had no idea.
And then they heard it, a faint squeal from outside the city gate. aSiffh whinnied a response and behind them, Fallon let out a little gasp. Kerris whistled a third time. This time, the answer was near and growing louder.
“Open the gate,” said Kirin.
“Open the gate!” shouted Windsor-Chan and the command was carried down the street until they could see the massive double doors of Kohdari groan open and a small, mottled shape burst through.
Kerris seemed to be holding his breath.
The crowd of two thousand horses began to part as if by a knife and finally, Quiz the mountain pony scrambled into view, snorting and snapping at every equine form in his path, except for aSiffh. The young stallion nuzzled the pony, who nipped but did not bite.
Slowly, as if in a trance, Kerris stepped down onto the snowy road.
Quiz rolled his large eye, snorted again, flanks heaving, sides flecked with foam. His tail was tangled with sticks, his mane a mass of ice and the whiskers at his muzzle were white with frost but without reservation Kerris threw his arms around the sturdy little neck and held as if he would never, ever let go.
Kirin stepped down beside him to mount his own horse, a blood red soldier atop a blood bay horse.
And suddenly, there was a charge that rippled through the crowd of soldiers, fe
line and simian alike. There is an old saying, “Dawn glow red, Stay in bed.” The sky at dawn had been blood red. There was a Shogun-General in their midst, wearing a yori of ox-blood red. He carried the Blood Fang, rode a blood bay stallion. He had made a Khan, then unmade him. They were traveling as a united group into a land that despised unity, all because of Ancestors. It was a marvelous, terrible time and they were all fixed to be a part of it.
Kerris looked up at him, his cheeks streaked with his tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered and he smiled.
“It is my honour,” Kirin said and he realized that, for the first time in months, he meant it.
The Wrong Side of the Wall
Ling,
I must speak first as your Shogun-General. Kerris is indeed back, along with his wife and kittens. They have spent time in the company of Ancestors and are now insistent that we, as a Kingdom, prepare for war. This is the reason for the Chi’Chen army – they wish to present a united front as we approach Khan Baituskhan of the Lower with terms of alliance. I have promised them my dual division and we are currently heading toward the foundry of Shen’foxhindi along the wall.
I am also sending with this parchment his two kittens, mongrels both. Please find a home for them in the imperial nursery – they are blood of my blood. You may tell people they belong to Kaidan and his consort the Lightning, and they will be accepted as royalty.
Now, I speak as Kirin, the man who loves you and will love you until there is no breath in his body, and if the monks and priests and seers are right, perhaps beyond even that. Be careful, Ling. This is a dangerous time. Take nothing for granted. Sleep with a dagger. Be wiser than ever and do not assume with Chancellor Ho or any of the Council. We are all at war now.
I will write once we reach the foundry.
Your Kirin
- an excerpt from the journal of Kirin Wynegarde-Grey
***
It was still dark when the witch came back. Setse had grown quiet and sat now under the cedar branches, eyes dull, the baby in her arms. It was a very quiet baby, he thought, as far as babies went. Most babies fussed and squealed. This one growled. No—purred, the witch had called it. Purring. It was an odd sound. He could not fathom it.
The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom Page 87