In the Jade Empire’s academies it was called the attack of the sweeping blossom, for some arcane reason that Jai had never found fully explained. It was the first anti-cavalry manoeuver taught to any academy student, and so basic it had only two variants. There were four potential counters to the form, dependent upon position, agility and horsemanship. Jai was confident in all of those, but had the latter in spades. The defence of the leaping tiger, he’d already decided as he closed on the man.
The enemy blade reached its optimum position and began to sweep forward, its keen edge seeking the horse’s vulnerable legs. The officer’s eyes widened as Jai’s horse jumped unexpectedly, and it was the last thing he would ever be surprised by. Jai’s horse leapt over the man’s arm and its now harmless blade, and as he passed by he leaned heavily to the right in the saddle, his sword coming down low, past his mount’s belly.
The blade slammed into the top of the man’s skull, and Jai was past him before he folded like a collapsing tent frame under the blow. Jai hauled on his reins, bringing his beast to a difficult and uncomfortable halt immediately after the jump. The horse stumbled a little and then danced to the side, shaking his head in irritation, pulling on the reins in mute defiance of his rider. Jai allowed the beast its anger as he watched his victim.
The imperial officer, his head displaying a wide rent, parting the hair with a line of pulsing red and white, collapsed to his knees, making an odd keening noise. Then he screamed and began to shake wildly.
Jai’s brow folded in concern. He wasn’t expecting that, though head wounds could do all sorts to a man. The dying officer suddenly fell backwards and onto the turf and began to thrash about, shrieking and wailing. Jai turned to take in the situation and, satisfied that his men had the situation well under control, he dismounted and left his agitated horse to calm down as he stalked over to the thrashing man.
His eyes widened as he approached. The officer gradually stopped flailing and began to lie almost still, twitching just a little, sightless eyes staring at the uncaring sky, blood and worse pouring from the wound in his head. But it had not been that injury that had caused the man such pain, nor was that the worst sight that met Jai. A hole had been eaten through the officer. His torso was steadily dissolving in on itself like… Jai couldn’t think of anything unpleasant enough to compare it to as bile rose in his throat at the horrifying sight. His gaze caught a glint and he spotted the broken glass container, opaque and greasy where it had been coated with something. The source of the nightmare. He then spotted the man’s sword, where it had been touched by the escaped substance too. It was eating through the steel of the blade like woodworm at an old, rotten cupboard.
Acid!
Powerful acid too. Why would imperial troops carry such a dangerous substance? What could they intend to use it for? The answer was simple, of course.
‘What in the name of the gods…?’ asked one of his men hauling on his reins and pulling up close to Jai.
‘Acid,’ Jai replied. ‘Strong acid that eats metal. And there is only one reason for enemy soldiers to be here with such a thing. They were after our cannon. General Cinna is a cunning one. He’s been dreaming up ways to nullify our artillery advantage and if he’d managed to get that acid to one of our cannon and smash it, it would have rendered the gun unusable. It would be my guess that we will find more such phials in this camp.’
And they did. Fifteen in all, including two that had broken on the people carrying them, with nightmarish results. Seemingly the enemy general was as desperate as they were to put an end to this as soon as possible and was beginning to try any strange, dangerous ploy that came to mind. Clever, though.
Despite the unpleasantness of the task and the need to continue with their mission, Jai detailed half his party to bury the enemy dead and say a few words over the site while the others went through the camp, searching for anything worth taking and then dismantling and disposing of it all. In less than an hour the bodies were gone and the horsemen ready to move on. With the revelation that the enemy might now be on this bank and could turn up at any moment, they had moved on more cautiously from there, continuing to search in vain for any potential crossing of the river.
Sure enough, they had checked every mile of the bank fruitlessly until they reached…
Jai’s stomach still churned at the memory.
A stone marker with a face that stared deep into the soul of the observed, eyes black as the darkest soul. He’d felt a strange kind of panic rise within him just at the sight of it. The riders with him had milled about uncertainly outside the boundary. They were not Inda – they didn’t entirely understand – but they had been told about the land of ghosts and its perils, and they respected the boundary nonetheless. No man, no matter his origin, wished to anger gods or ghosts. His second in command had asked what to do. Jai had been torn.
The Inda had learned long ago not to cross that line, though the monks who maintained the markers – not very well, judging by the poor state of this one – managed to live on the far side. If Jai and his small party obeyed the old rules though, perhaps they would manage for a short foray. He would hate to report back to the general without trying everything he could, and as yet he’d nothing positive to tell Jiang other than that he had foiled a plot against the guns.
Swallowing his fear and wiping the unnatural sweat from his brow, Jai had given the orders. Each man had removed his weapons, grudgingly. Some had been forced to reveal hidden blades, and it was only when Jai was satisfied that no one had been stupid enough to disobey him that he stepped towards the marker.
Death. Death and madness. That was what awaited a man who crossed that ancient line. He shivered uncontrollably. Yet what had he just left at Jalnapur if not death and madness? Shaking, and moving swiftly in an attempt to hide that fact from the men, he crossed the boundary. His body chilled oddly, and he almost turned and ran, did turn, but was somehow given the strength not to flee by the sight of the others. He was the second in command of the largest army in the world. He knew what the markers meant, but how could he hope to lead these men if they saw weakness in him now?
Forcing himself not to panic, pushing down the terror and burying it beneath sheer will, he took another step south, and still did not die. Plastering what he hoped was confidence across his face, he beckoned to the men and took another five steps, each one making his legs shake a little more. There, as the men began to follow him past the marker, he paused for some time, half-expecting vengeful spirits to descend upon them and tear apart some soldier who had thought to sneak a knife across. Nothing happened, though he continued to shiver uncontrollably at the feeling of some unseen presence around them.
If he had thought he was suffering fear-sweat at the marker, before long he’d experienced a whole new level in the lands beyond. The horses were nervous, clearly, though not as much as their riders. They had spent only a day beyond the marker, and no one had gone mad, vanished or died, but still it was not an experience Jai would wish to repeat in a hurry. Here and there among the overgrown paths that had served the monks, they had found eerie, mute evidence of other interlopers. Twice they had stumbled upon the clothing, armour and weapons of scout parties just like theirs lying by the side of the road. No bodies. No sign of them. Just everything they owned. And no sane scout would have been content to strip naked and leave everything. Jai was certain that they were dead, or possibly driven insane enough to flee naked into the woods. Either way, they had gone. It made him shiver, and had started to put the wind up the other horsemen.
Moreover, each rider clearly shared Jai’s sense that they were being observed during their journey. Not once did they see a distinctive shape or hear audible words, but there was movement in the undergrowth that did not seem to be animal in its origin, and noises that sounded like the whispering of a thousand faint voices. One of the men had expressed the concern that enemy scouts were observing them, but Jai had shook his head and brushed off that possibility. Whatever it was observing
and following them – ghosts and spirits, presumably – it was certainly not imperial scouts from the enemy force. Oddly, the noises and movement did not seem to alarm their steeds as much as the men, though that was of little comfort to Jai. Horses perhaps had less to worry about from ghosts.
They had found something late that day and Jai had deemed it sufficient to call their foray into the ghost lands a success and go no further. They had turned round and retreated to the marker line with an immense sense of relief and an impressive turn of speed.
They had found something. Not something truly useful, and Jai twitched at the thought of reporting it, but still, it was what it was: a crossing.
Some distance south of the markers, one of the paths they had followed, which seemed to lead somewhere significant, judging by the odd, arcane symbols on the stone posts at every junction, had led to the banks of the Nadu. The great river had swept on south through the dead lands wider than ever, but where the path met the water’s edge they had found a ferry. It was a simple barge only twenty feet long and ten wide, but it was a crossing, and most certainly not one watched over by the enemy. The barge was attached to one of a pair of ropes, which had impressively been slung across the great torrent somehow and fastened to huge trees at each side, and which could be used to propel and guide the craft across the river. A similar vessel sat at the far side, attached to the other line. A two-way crossing.
Jai had been rather concerned about the state of the rope and of the vessel. They seemed to be as poorly maintained and as neglected as the markers had been, the rope slimy and going green. However, when he and half a dozen burly riders had hauled on it to test its efficacy, it had proved to still be sturdy and safe. Attaching it to a saddle and putting a horse’s weight to it had proved a safe test too.
The crossing fitted the requirements of the general to the letter, for all its shortcomings. It was a place cavalry could cross slowly, unobserved by the enemy. Of course, it came with its own complications: no cavalry unit would be able to cross it armed, for they would have to leave their weapons on the far side of the marker line, lest they wanted to die or be driven insane before they even reached the river. What little use the crossing could be, Jai could not fathom, but at least he had something relevant to report to the general.
They had ridden back to the lands of the living and crossed the line of markers with an explosion of breath and wild eyes. They found the hidden cache where they had secreted their weapons and retrieved them, and it was not until noon the next day, some thirty miles from the markers, that the men began to speak of their journey and to make nervous jokes.
Three weeks after they had ridden south from Jalnapur, the horsemen returned to their camp, and now, on a hot, sizzling afternoon, Jai and his men crested the hill and looked down upon the fields of death. Jai was disheartened to see the movement taking place, though he’d half-expected it. On their return journey they had noted how the low ground had largely dried out and was now firm enough to traverse. Which meant a return to hostilities.
The cannon were moving from their lofty positions on the hillsides, being brought down by oxen to the low ground, where they were being distributed and positioned around the plain, where they would be within good range of the enemy, able to cause horrific damage to the imperial forces. There were no shots ringing out yet, despite the fact that several machines were already in place, having earth ramparts and emplacements built about them. Jai wondered whether the general was waiting until his entire artillery was in position, or whether he was just reluctant to start the bombardment, but a glance across the river provided a third possibility.
The western forces were also moving artillery into place. They had kept their great weapons in position during monsoon season, since they had been prepared in advance, constructing high, solid platforms for them, but now they were bringing more and more weapons into the field. Jai felt a lump rise in his throat as he boggled at the sheer scale of the imperial artillery. General Jiang had the most powerful artillery in the world, but their advantage seemed far from assured when faced with the sheer number of weapons being moved into position across the river. What use were a few paltry cannon shot each hour when the western forces could now shower rocks, burning pitch and iron bolts down upon the eastern bank in a constant rain? General Cinna had clearly been busy during monsoon season. The man was an endless source of surprises.
And yet the enemy artillery stood silent as yet too, perhaps waiting until everything was in position, or perhaps, once again, because their commander was reluctant to give the order. What a world this was when neither army cared about the bridge and no one wanted to fight, including the commanders, and yet the war went on, unfeeling and unstoppable! With a sigh, Jai kicked his horse’s flanks.
Riding down the slope, he dismissed his men, sending them off to dismount and rest, granting them three days of furlough for their efforts and bravery, and then made for General Jiang’s headquarters.
He felt an odd sense of anticipation among the men as he passed through the huge camp. He was not sure precisely what it was he was picking up on, but there was definitely something in the air, and it only increased as he closed on the headquarters and nodded to the Crimson Guard who stood at attention around the place. He was admitted swiftly and made his way to the general’s office.
Xeng Shu Jiang was sitting behind his desk, surrounded by documents and maps as usual, and looked up sharply as Jai entered.
‘At last,’ the general said, breaking into a weary smile. ‘I had begun to think you lost.’
Jai rolled his shoulders and saluted with a tired grin of his own.
‘I have had an interesting but tiring journey, General, with a few items of interest to report.’
‘And I shall be fascinated to hear all about it, Jai, but I have tidings of my own that must override your report.’
Jai’s skin prickled once more at that feeling of anticipation prevalent in the camp. ‘General?’
‘My opposite number seeks a parley.’
Jai frowned. ‘I cannot imagine what for, sir, since neither of us is likely to agree to pull out, but a parley should not be difficult to arrange.’
‘Interestingly, though, General Cinna seeks a parley somewhere neutral and away from our forces.’
‘Sounds dubious,’ Jai murmured, musing on the inventiveness of the enemy commander.
‘Agreed, and I would have smelled a trap but for one thing. When we first spoke to the enemy commander, the parley was a formal affair and he invoked his rank and position and the authority of the mad emperor for whom he spoke. On this occasion, the request was delivered by his adjutant somewhat quietly, without pomp, and rather tellingly without the invocation of imperial authority.’
‘Sir?’ Jai prompted, a little befuddled by the meaning of all this.
‘Their bureaucracy and rigid form is second only to ours, Jai. It is a simple requirement of all diplomacy to cite the authority one claims. That Cinna has requested a parley on no authority other than his own is paramount. Unless I miss my guess by a wide margin, it means that this parley is Cinna’s idea, and the emperor and his administration are not party to it. Cinna wishes to talk to me personally, not as a representative of his emperor.’
Jai nodded slowly. ‘It could still be a trap.’
‘It could,’ agreed the general, ‘but we are running out of options, Jai. Both our armies have moved their killing machines forward, ready to turn Jalnapur into a sea of blood and severed limbs, and those men who would rather see me fail are on their way. Unless you bring me a solution to the war neatly bundled courtesy of your expedition, I believe is it at least worth speaking to General Cinna.’
Jai paused, an image of that ferry slipping into his mind’s eye. But it was no true solution, for a cavalry force would not be able to take their weapons. It was a false hope at best.
‘No sir. Tantalising near-possibilities, but nothing more.’
‘Then I shall arrange to meet Cinna and speak
to him, man to man.’
A thought occurred to Jai. ‘General, if you do this, and you hope to meet Cinna as an equal, that means you will have to do the same. You cannot do so on the authority of the Jade Emperor.’
‘Quite so.’
Jai pictured the endless reports and missives that were dispatched to the imperial capital with repetitive regularity. Everything was reported. Everything. It was the way the Jade Empire worked.
‘How will the emperor react when he learns that you have spoken to the enemy off the record, so to speak?’
‘You answer your own question, Jai. This will be entirely off the record.’
Jai’s pulse quickened. ‘Sir, that is foolhardy and dangerous. The emperor will find out. Someone will submit a report. There will be court spies among the men. You know that nothing escapes the Jade Emperor’s attention.’
‘It is worth the risk, Jai. My opponents are coming with their armies to take part in this war, and they will be here sooner than you think. If we are to avert total disaster, we need to do whatever we can to resolve this before they arrive. If that means standing alone and in defiance of the emperor, then that is what I must do. It is said that the Jade Emperor and his empire are one. They are not, Jai. No matter what is drilled into us, we need to understand that the emperor is not the empire, and vice versa. And sometimes we must place the needs of the empire above those of the man who rules it. Right now I intend to serve the empire in attempting to avert total ruin, regardless of the wishes of the emperor.’
Jai felt a chill run through him. It was utterly logical, but the very idea of defying the Jade Emperor… Heads would roll for such offence, and it would not be the general’s fate alone. Yet it was hard to deny the sense of it.
‘You speak sense, General. It is not foolhardy. But it is dangerous. Where will you meet?’
‘I am not sure, Jai. The general’s emissary desired some place other than the bridge, and I can see the value in that. If he is intending to treaty with me against the will of his master, which seems the most likely explanation, then doing so in the midst of both armies would be foolish. Yet we cannot meet on either bank for similar reasons. Perhaps we can arrange to meet a few days’ north, where there are other smaller crossings.’
Jade Empire Page 21