Symphony of Fates: A Legends of Tivara Story (The Dragon Songs Saga Book 4)

by JC Kang

  “Stand down.” Ming’s voice carried a tone of authority, though certainly his raised weapon punctuated the command.

  The men backed away, hands raised. The young woman gathered her tattered clothes around her and scampered away. Poor girl. Tian started to follow.

  Ming raised a hand. “Soldiers of Dongmen are supposed to uphold propriety and honor, shining above mountains like the symbol emblazoned over your heart. Has becoming vassals of the Teleri wolves turned us into rapists? No, even the Teleri don’t rampage in the streets, taking lone girls at will. You aren’t even wolves, you are pigs.”

  One of the men opened his mouth, then closed it as his eyes widened. He dropped to his knee and bowed his head. “Young Lord Zheng! Please forgive us.”

  Gawking, the other men followed his lead. Tian tightened the grip on his sword. Unless they did something to silence these rogues, news of their arrival would be on every mouth.

  Shutters from second-floor windows opened and faced peeked out.

  “It’s Young Lord Zheng!”

  “He is alive!”

  “He’s returned!”

  Voices rose not just in loudness, but in hope. They adored Ming. How could they not? In the forest, he looked lost and childish; now, his aura commanded respect. Even in ragged clothes.

  Bowing, the lead soldier pulled a sheathed broadsword from his sash and held it up in two hands. “My Lord, I have dishonored Dongmen with my actions. You may take my head if that will allow me atone for my men’s actions.”

  Ming received the weapon and unsheathed it. He was really going to execute the soldier. Without hesitation, the man brushed his hair to the side and exposed his neck. His comrades rushed up to his side and bowed.

  One of them sank to both knees. “Please, Young Lord—”

  “Silence.” Ming’s tone carried a lethal authority in it. “The condemned will announce his name and rank.”

  “Ku Wenshen, Lieutenant of Dongmen’s Third Infantry Division.”

  Ming raised the sword. “Ku Wenshen, I presume the Wen in your name means cultured. You have tarnished not only your province and unit, but your own name.” The blade swooped down.

  Tian turned. Certainly not because of gore, when he’d seen so much. So why? Despite the heinous crime, public beheading was too cruel a punishment. He looked back.

  Ming’s blade rested a hair’s width from Ku’s neck. “Soldier of Dongmen,” he said, “I have come to cut away the blight left by the Teleri. Rise now. Your honor will be restored when you find the girl and give her family three months of your pay.”

  Hair stood on the back of Tian’s neck. His brother had such indomitable strength of spirit. A tear gathered in his eyes.

  Likewise, tears plopped from Ku’s face onto the pavestones. “Thank you, Young Lord. I will commit to becoming a better man.”

  “Good,” Ming said. “Now, tell me where the imperial soldiers are.”

  “Disarmed and confined to barracks, Young Lord.” Where they couldn’t pose a threat to their father.

  Ming patted him on the shoulder. “Take your patrol and go to the barracks and tell the guards to release the imperials into my custody. Have them brought to the castle.”

  “That is treason against the lord!” One of the soldiers whipped out his broadsword and swung.

  Tian had a dagger in hand, but Ming was in the way. Yet Ming held his own, deflecting the swing with a loud clang before reversing the cut and hacking across the dissenter’s arm. Blood sprayed, and he man staggered back several steps, holding the wound. The sword slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.

  Ming pointed the tip of the weapon at him. “The lord committed treason against the Tianzi, who holds the Mandate of Heaven. Drop to your knee and swear allegiance to the Jade Throne.”

  The soldier looked to his comrades, who forcefully nodded. Still holding his arm, he submitted as commanded. “I swear my life to the Tianzi.”

  Ming turned to Lieutenant Ku. “If he shows any sign of violating his oath, execute him. I will see that all of Dongmen recognizes the Tianzi’s authority. ”

  Ku bowed. “As you command, Young Lord.”

  “And so begins our army.” Ming grinned at Tian.

  Only if these soldiers succeeded in convincing their superiors. Tian forced a smile.

  Ming could never imagine his province’s soldiers behaving so barbarically. Father had always chosen quality men, those of martial skill and high caliber. Now, he had let them become roving bandits, shirking the rule of law in favor of the rule of might.

  He glared past the bridge over the moat, to the castle gate, and growled. No. Not in his province. Not in his hometown.

  The double doors swung open, revealing the gasping chamberlain. “Young Lord Zheng! I did not believe that you had survived in the wilderness, and… Young Lord Tian.” The man paled, looking as if he would faint. “I…I…will summon the lord and lady. Come in, come in.”

  Holding a low bow, a page shuffled forward and extended his arms to receive their cloaks and weapons. Ming placed his cloak and sword in the boy’s hands, but kept his bow strapped to his back. Tian just stared while the page waited. With Ming’s prodding, Tian proffered his blade.

  Advisors and servants bowed as they passed. Ming afforded them nonchalant nods, yet kept gazing at the walls. So many memories in these halls, of Father teaching them the virtue of service to the Tianzi. The responsibilities of ruling a province. How could he have made a deal with the Teleri?

  In the corner of his eye, Tian might have been dancing, the way he startled at the nightingale floor’s chirp. An efficient killer or not, heart thief or not, he was still a little brother.

  The double doors to the audience chamber slid open. Soldiers dressed in light green Dongmen livery lined the walls. Directly ahead, his father, the Tai-Ming lord, sat cross-legged on the central dais. From where she knelt to the left, Mother stumbled to her feet. Among several officers on the floor to either side of the dais slouched his second brother Lun, arm in a sling. He had survived the gruesome wounds, but looked too pale. Ming’s own fault for his defeat at Emperor Geros’ hands.

  His third brother Shu was nowhere to be seen. His gentlest of brothers—now that Tian had turned out to be as deadly as the half-elf demoness—hadn’t been injured at all, so where was he now?

  Almost as disconcerting as Shu’s absence was the Teleri presence. A Bovyan of Kanin stock, dressed in a high-collared uniform, sat on a chair behind and to the right. Several fair-skinned Bovyans formed a semicircle around his parents on the dais.

  “Ming! Tian!” Mother staggered forward off the dais, her eyes glistening. “You’re alive.” She wrapped Tian in a tight embrace, though his expression betrayed no emotion. He tentatively hugged her back. Of course he wouldn’t remember that she loved him most of all. “Is it true, that you married the princess?”

  Tian cast him a sidelong glance at Ming before turning back to their mother. “I think…yes.”

  She squeezed him tighter. “So the children are yours.” She released him, and turned to clasp Ming’s hands. Warmth radiated between them. “Oh Ming, I was so worried those ghastly Bovyans had killed you. I didn’t believe what their lying brute of an emperor said was true, that you had escaped.”

  “Yes, Mother. We are home now. I am happy to see you.” Ming guided her toward the dais. While she returned to her kneel at their father’s side, Ming sank to his knees and placed the elf bow on the floor in front of him.

  Tian knelt as well, though the look on his face bordered between confusion and scheming. Was he assessing the threats? Devising an escape?

  Father cast a rare smile, perhaps the first one in years. “Welcome home, Ming, Tian. I am overjoyed to see you alive. And safe.”

  “We cannot be but so safe.” Ming pointed his chin at the Bovyan leader, who listened to another whispering in his ear. A translator, perhaps. It didn’t matter if they understood or not. “Father, I had hoped rumors of your collaboration wi
th the Teleri were just that.”

  His father looked at the leader before turning back. “Son, I had no choice. The realm is falling into chaos. The Tianzi has lost the Mandate of Heaven. Emperor Geros appointed me Viceroy of Cathay.”

  Ming harrumphed. “So he gave you the highest seat in Hua. As long as the Bovyans rule, that will be no better than a chamber pot. Besides the honor of becoming a puppet, what else did they offer you?”

  “You.” His father might have shown no emotion, but his tenor cut through the air like an arrow. A magical elf arrow, maybe. He gestured at Lun. “And your brothers.”

  Ming pointed at his father. Impudent, to be sure, but warranted given the severity of treason. “We all swore allegiance to the Tianzi. We are all ready to sacrifice ourselves to keep the realm free and prosperous. All you had to do was hold the gate. Our lives, your new position, aren’t worth tarnishing your name in history.”

  His father scowled. Actually scowled, sending a chill down Ming’s spine. “Do not take that tone with me, boy. History is written by the victors.”

  The Bovyan smirked and cleared his throat. “Now that have you exchanged pleasantries, you must speak in Arkothi, the official language of the Teleri Empire.”

  The gall. Whatever the puppet master thought, this was still Hua. Ming continued in his native tongue. “Father, will you not reconsider?”

  Father shook his head. “Never. The Emperor has kept Shu to ensure our loyalty.”

  “My father taught me that the only thing more important than family was honor.”

  Father snorted. “He also taught you to be practical. Hua’s imperial armies are busy fighting Lord Peng’s rebellion in the South, and the Teleri will overwhelm whoever is left. Our province will remain de facto independent, and you will inherit the title of Viceroy.”

  As if a pretty title meant anything. “The Teleri Directori will rule over Hua and harness our resources toward their war machine.”

  “An oath is an oath.”

  “Yes, it is.” Ming grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow, and shot.

  The arrow drove through Father’s right breast. He sucked in a labored breath and coughed up blood. Around them, everyone stared for a full second of absolute silence. Ming’s heart fluttered. Had he done the right thing?

  Tian jumped to his feet, dagger in hand, and lunged toward their mother. The Hua soldiers all took several steps forward, though Ming now realized they were unarmed. The Teleri all drew swords. One stabbed at Mother, but Tian pulled her out of the way.

  Ming shot again and downed the attacker, then nocked and loosed, felling the leader. Nine remained. He leveled the bow at the closest. “Surrender.”

  The Teleri formed up into a tight square, weapons facing out. Hua soldiers approached, but stayed out of range of the blades.

  Ming loosed another arrow. It lodged into another Teleri, who dropped with a choke and a clatter of a sword. “I have more than enough arrows to kill the rest of you twice over.”

  The Bovyans grunted and mumbled among themselves until their highest-ranking officer ordered a surrender. Some Hua soldiers collected weapons and herded the prisoners into a corner. Other soldiers surrounded Ming, giving no indication who they sided with. Tears filled Mother’s face.

  “Eldest Brother,” Lun said, voice weak. “What have you done?”

  Tian cast him a scathing glance. “That wasn’t part of the plan. At least you could’ve given me some warning that you were about to commit patricide.”

  Stomach clenching, Ming sighed. It hadn’t been his initial intention. Father, if anything, was steadfast once he made a decision. Now the one who had instilled in his children a sense of leadership and honor was dying, because he had forsaken those lessons himself.

  Father gasped another breath, his shaking hand beckoning. Still alive.

  Mother stumbled to his side and propped his head on her lap. Lun, too, huddled in. A lump formed in Ming’s throat. He leaned over.

  A trembling hand clawed at Ming’s tunic. Barely audible, Father’s voice rasped. “Fool. Your future was…secure. Now…you must…make your own…name. Make me…proud.” His hand slipped away. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

  Tears blurred Ming’s vision. Maybe he’d made the wrong choice. Maybe with enough convincing, Father would’ve changed his mind.

  No. If Father was anything, it was decisive. No argument in the world would have changed his mind once it was made.

  Standing, Ming made eye contact with each of his fellow countrymen before locking on Lun’s. “When our children’s children read the histories of these trying times, they will learn how we took decisive action in defense of the nation. All of you here today, swear to me that when asked, you will say that Lord Zheng Han of Dongmen Province realized the error of his ways and took his own life as atonement.”

  The soldiers dropped to a knee. “Yes, Jue-ye.”

  Jue-ye. Now he was Tai-Ming Lord of Dongmen. How would history judge him? Ming turned to Father’s military advisor. “Mobilize our provincial soldiers and have the commander of the imperial garrison present himself before me.” He then nodded at the chamberlain. “Prepare a message for Emperor Geros.”

  Chapter 29:

  Explosive

  Peng Kai-Long squinted through a spyglass at the imperial army defending the mountain pass between his province and Fenggu. Smoke rose after each volley into the Maduran lines, now whittled down to fifteen thousand as they tried to slam through the bottleneck.

  He snapped the glass closed. Prince Dhananad was a fool, convinced by Madura’s past victories over pathetic neighbors that a sledgehammer could pick a lock. The Madurans hadn’t weakened the imperials as much as he’d hoped, though they had spared Kai-Long’s own men from the brunt of the hostilities.

  Passing the spyglass to one of his advisors, he grinned to himself. Not only had he minimized losses, his numbers had doubled. Local Yu-Ming lords, ostensibly loyal to the Tianzi, had come crawling back to him, bolstering the Nanling provincial army to twenty thousand. The ten thousand men under minor lords in occupied Ximen also flocked to his banner, while his ally in Yutou kept the Ximen loyalists pinned down on the coastal road. His chest puffed. Everything worked as he planned.

  Kai-Long turned and gazed at his well-rested armies. Only he was fit to rule, the sole descendant of the Wang Dynasty Founder with enough political and military acumen to bring greater prosperity to Hua. Once he left no doubt who held the Mandate of Heaven, the provincial and imperial holdouts would surely choose him over a baby too small to sit on the Jade Throne.

  A soldier raced up to the command post and dropped to a knee. “Jue-ye, we have intercepted a message bound to Madura from Prince Dhananad.”

  “Report,” Kai-Long said.

  “He has asked his father for an additional ten thousand men.”

  Kai-Long laughed. The Maduran fool had already received ten thousand reinforcements and lost them in several ill-advised charges into the imperial center. In the future, after losing forty thousand of their men in a foreign land, Madura’s own capital would be too weak to repel an attack. For now, however, Kai-Long’s campaign to liberate the Madurans would have to wait until he consolidated his hold over Hua. “The Madurans have outlived their use. We don’t want them depleting our supplies.”

  “Jue-ye, we cannot possibly take the pass without help,” General Zhang said. Others nodded in assent.

  Kai-Long favored them with a mirthless smile. He had not shared all his plans: the Aksumi Mystic he’d hired to summon the Guardian Dragon of Hua, nor the Black Fist spies who carried correspondence with the former empress Wu Yanli’s father in Zhenjing Province. The first would remain secret. “Tai-Ming Lord Wu’s army holds the western pass into Fenggu, behind the imperial lines. He is amenable to switching sides. When he does, we will attack.”

  Or rather, once everyone saw the Guardian Dragon of Hua answer Kai-Long’s call, perhaps not a single musket need be fired.

  In the meantime, he n
eeded to cut off the Madurans. He turned to the messenger. “Send word back home. Detonate the firepowder at the South Gate to seal it off.”

  A clap of thunder followed a flash of light at the open doors to the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The roar rumbled in from the north, rattling Kaiya in the regent’s chair beside the Jade Throne. The military advisors and ministers all looked up, their murmurs mingling with the sound.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  Chief Minister Song bowed. “I would guess lighting struck somewhere to the east.”

  It certainly didn’t sound like thunder to her trained ears. She gestured with an open hand toward the main entrance, which opened up onto the cityscape. The thunderstorm from the night before had given way to morning sun. It now burned off the fog, leaving the sky a pale blue. “There are no storm clouds.”

  More chatter among the assembled men.

  She sighed. If there were a lightning strike, then fires would follow. Alarm bells would be ringing any moment now. “General Shan, send a messenger to find out—”

  A low drone bellowed out from a bell in the east. Several others followed. Fires? Certainly the Teleri, entrenched beyond cannon range outside the north gate for three days, had no way of striking inside the city, certainly not in the east.

  Could they? Kaiya scanned her advisors, searching for any sign of treachery. Geros had sent a demand to parley. Her sharpshooters had used warning shots to rebuff him. In the ensuing three days of tortuous waiting, the remaining handful of Black Lotus Moquan hadn’t reported any incursions across the river.

  A page raced through the door and down the center of the hall between the rows of men. He dropped to a knee, fist to the ground. “Jie-xia, our firepowder magazine in the east exploded.”

  Kaiya’s brow furrowed. That magazine wasn’t far from the walls, but it couldn’t be coincidental, not with a Teleri army at their doorstep. Though why the east? She turned to Chief Minister Song. “Find out about fires and damage to the walls. I entrust all civilian response to you.”