by Brian Thomas
Bewildered at Si Li’s oversimplification of the task, Li Chin replied pointedly. “Our lands are surrounded by barbarians, which “no-king” do I seek and why would he offer me his life for nothing?”
Seesfar replied, though he still had a distracted faraway look about him as he did so. “You are the truthsayer identified in the first prophecy, there can be no mistake. This is what you must achieve if we are to succeed and only you can deliver the answer we seek. The task is vital and our future rests in your hands, Truthsayer.” The title used by Seesfar was spat out like an accusation.
Li Chin’s frustration grew as he responded to Seesfar, though his features remained immobile and his tone even. “If my task is so important and the answer so vital then perhaps you could give me some guidance I can use to ensure its success.”
Seesfar looked directly at Li Chin for the first time, his preoccupied expression disappearing as he focused his disorienting gaze on Li Chin, the pupils of his eyes appearing larger than most people’s and to have swirls of movement deep within them. “Have you learned nothing? If we were to give you what you ask, like a cooked bowl of rice, you would know nothing of how it came about. You must wish to feast on the dish, prepare it yourself to your own liking before you can truly appreciate what you have. The prophecy will mean something for the one it is intended to help, you! The ambiguity is there to protect The Tree of Futures and everyone else from those who would seek to thwart it.”
Li Chin allowed a single eyebrow to rise, a clear indication of his frustration. “How do I begin to achieve these things? Surely, if you wish me to succeed you could at least tell me in which direction I should travel, to which barbarian kingdom even?”
Si Li had compassion in his voice when he replied. “Think back to what you learnt while at the Tree of Futures, we dare not give any more than we have lest we corrupt the act we wish to bring about.”
Li Chin sat thinking while the elders calmly observed him. Eventually he asked. “Seesfar has seen me succeed in the future?”
Seesfar waved a hand dismissively. “I have followed you in many futures, in some you have succeeded in others you have failed. We will not know which branch our destiny follows until you have done one or the other. Our fate is in your hands and we are confident this is the best place for it.”
Li Chin suppressed his irritation with the elders as he regarded them silently but was unable to mask the frustration he felt. “I solicit the Temple’s aid openly and my plea is rejected for the safety of the Temple. You then falsely announce that I am possessed by demons, acting as a host for agents acting against the emperor, guaranteeing to make me a target for every warrior in the land. Now you secretly seek my aid for the same cause, so you may avoid direct conflict yourselves.” Li Chin could detect no visible signs of contrition as the elders listened. “You say that I am your best but I am publicly cast out, ostracised by my brother priests. I am commanded never to come back in public but secretly I am bid to return with the answers to your dilemma.” Seesfar frowned slightly nodding in confirmation. “You acknowledge the task you set is difficult, that the Temple and our people’s future hang on its outcome. Yet you give me an ambiguous riddle to aid me. You know the answers to the questions I would ask but you will not tell me.” Seesfar’s frown grew deeper and he nodded again, confused as to which aspect Li Chin queried as it seemed he understood the circumstances well.
Li Chin speculated whether he genuinely was the only one to see the irony in the situation. And now they wished him to search for a barbarian “no-king” who would simply offer Li Chin his life for nothing in exchange, prior to becoming his guide and then tell him lies and send him in the wrong direction on his quest. Was he the only one who could detect the lunacy in all of this? He wondered if Seesfar had really been driven to madness by his visits to the Tree of Future’s or had indeed seen a branch where Li Chin succeeded. Yet Li Chin feared for the consequences if he had not. “How do I persuade the barbarian no-king to offer me his life? Surely I must offer something in return to solicit such a selfless gift, especially to one who sounds so untrustworthy?”
Seesfar leaned forward, his murky eyes boring into Li Chin. “You must offer him nothing! Seek no aid! The offer must be made freely!”
Seesfar’s chill delivery confirmed Li Chin’s suspicion that he had seen many more futures where Li Chin failed, than where he had succeeded. “The task you set seems impossible, even if you have seen a future where I succeed.”
Si Li leaned forward with both eyebrows raised and a hint of humour in his eyes. “If the task were simple, anyone of mediocre ability could perform it. Instead, as you have reminded us, we ask the Temple’s best.”
Seesfar’s voice rang with an unaccustomed authority. “Enough! Know that when you leave here the emperor will not be satisfied by your mere banishment and he will ensure the Temple’s hand is also turned against you. We have told you enough so you know what must be done and to recognise at the time if you have succeeded that far. Now we can do no more and you will do as you will.” The elders stood as one and gave a brief bow before turning away, leaving Li Chin alone in the arena.
Si Li’s parting comment in his mind, Li Chin watched them descend from the dais and leave the rear of the arena. If their explanations had been intended to placate him they had failed, merely feeding his frustration with the Temple elders. It would be utterly foolish to act on such ambiguous direction and he would determine his own life by his own choices, as he had already decided. If in the meantime he could aid his people by fulfilling the prophecy then he would do so. But as he thought of the contradictory riddle they had set him, Li Chin could see no value in it at all.
As Si Li disappeared within the Temple’s halls Li Chin wondered what he should do now. He was an isolated and loathed figure in a vast land; hunted, friendless and directionless. He must leave the Temple but go where? He would have to avoid large cities where he was most likely to be recognised for what he was and he must travel quickly to avoid the emperor’s inevitable attempts to capture him. The prophecy had to be a secondary consideration, if he were to consider it at all. His priority now must be to evade the emperor’s forces and somehow survive long enough to find a safe haven beyond the emperor’s reach, if such a thing were possible. Wherever he did go, he must leave now.
Chapter 11
Zun returned to his men who were waiting nervously the other side of the narrow bridge covering the chasm between the road and the Temple gates. While crossing the bridge Zun considered what he should now do for the best.
The priests at the Temple had confirmed what he had been told earlier by the emperor’s guardian. The priests also confirmed the priest he had met on the way had indeed been the emperor’s guardian. Initially, on their way to the Temple Zun had thought he had found their quarry but there had been two priests rather than the one they sought and neither matched the description given by Zu Wah’s chamberlain. The first being too young and the second too old. Nevertheless, he had stopped and questioned them both, while his men fidgeted nervously in the background.
The older priest had claimed to be the emperor’s guardian, returning to the Sun Palace. Having completed a mission for the emperor at the Temple he now bore important news back to the emperor. The older priest had informed him the rebel priest had already been to the Temple. The Temple had cast him out for the deeds he had committed and for fear of the demon’s they believed possessed him.
On hearing of the demons his men, already nervous at the prospect of encountering a priest able to single-handedly destroy a master’s entire life guard and see off a hundred strong honour guard, were almost unmanned. Zun had been furious at the furtive mumbling that had come from their ranks and was hugely embarrassed at their lack of discipline, which reflected poorly on him as their commander.
With no reason to hold the two priests and if the older one’s claim to be the emperor’s guardian were true every reason not to, he had let them continue their journey to the Sun Pal
ace. Zun had taken his men to the Temple to fulfil his original instructions, to verify the rogue priest was not there and also confirm what he had been told by the two priests on the road.
On arriving at the Temple he had struck the gong hanging by the impressive brass bound gates. A young acolyte answered the gong, opening a small panel in the gate so they could talk to each other face to face but separated by the forbidding and firmly closed gates. Zun had demanded entrance and to see a Temple elder. The acolyte had calmly asked him to wait before closing the panel.
He had felt vulnerable and somewhat foolish standing in front of the closed gate until, at last, it had started to swing open to reveal a lone man dressed in the dark gown of a Temple elder. The elder stepped through the gates to meet him, bowing slightly before introducing himself as Si Li, the senior elder of the Temple.
When Zun had informed the elder he had come to apprehend the rogue priest Li Chin, the elder had looked more closely at Zun’s contingent of men, before raising an eyebrow. Nevertheless, the elder informed him Li Chin had been expelled from the Temple. That he was no longer one of them or on the Temple premises, much as the priests on the road had said.
Zun was in a quandary how to press the point without causing offence to the Temple elder, who patiently watched him with bright inquisitive eyes. Finally, deciding that causing offence was better than reporting he had merely accepted what he had been told at the Temple gates Zun informed the elder his orders were to confirm for himself the rogue priest was not at the Temple.
Rather than take offence the elder had raised the same eyebrow again before inviting Zun inside. It was clear the invitation was for Zun only and did not extend to his men. Zun had accepted, but on entering the Temple realised that if the elder sought to hide the rogue priest within the extensive Temple grounds he was unlikely to find him. It was equally unlikely the elder was not telling the truth. Certainly, the Temple had nothing to fear from his contingent of men.
After the most cursory of searches which barely covered the Temple’s external grounds Zun thanked the elder, confirming his duty had been satisfied. The elder had nodded sagely and escorted him silently back to the gates, managing to make Zun feel foolish for his insistence when anything other than an intensive and highly intrusive search would prove fruitless. As they walked back Zun had asked the elder if he knew where the rogue priest had gone, to be told simply. “No”.
When Zun reached his men at the far end of the bridge he reasoned Li Chin could have gone only one way. Zun and his men had not encountered him on the road here before reaching the turnoff for the Temple. So he must have left the Temple, joined the main road and taken the other direction to that from which Zun and his own men had come.
The emperor’s guardian encountered on the way to the Temple had instructed Zun in the emperor’s name to continue seeking the rogue priest. Zun’s was the closest sizable force and therefore had the most likely prospect of catching the priest in the immediate future. The command had been to take Li Chin dead or alive and keep his head as proof of capture if killed. They both realised the longer Li Chin evaded capture the less likely his capture would be.
While Zun had completed his original orders and was free to return home he could hardly ignore these new instructions from the emperor’s own guardian, whose identity he had just had confirmed. To do so would cause his master to lose favour with the emperor as a result of the same search with which he had sought to achieve favour in the first place. Zun had little option but to continue until he encountered the emperor’s own soldiers and could honourably return home.
Ordering his men to follow him along the road which must have been taken by Li Chin, Zun reluctantly took up the search for his quarry. His men, less than enthusiastic from the outset and further unnerved at the mention of demons, were now resentful they continued the search despite their initial orders to return home if the priest were not at the Temple. Zun seethed at their attitude and wouldn’t hesitate to carve open any one of them who showed open defiance of his orders or failure to fulfil them immediately. Despite their obedience and fear of his anger, they were nevertheless able to convey as a group their reluctance without giving sufficient cause for retribution against any single individual.
Putting their discontent from his mind Zun considered the nature of the man he now pursued. A fallen warrior, shunned by his own brethren who claimed him to be possessed. Yet capable of destroying a whole contingent of an elite guard before seeing off a hundred support soldiers. Possessed or not the man would be a formidable opponent Zun would not underestimate, despite the priest’s craven nature implied by his dishonourable actions.
Thinking of his quarry’s fall from grace, the priest’s ostraczisation by his peers, he could not prevent a mild shudder. Zun determined that he must never fail in his own duty. Whatever Li Chin’s ability, possessed or otherwise, Zun would rather a grisly death than a similar fate. The honourable discharge of his orders, success or death by combat was all which could be contemplated. The shameful alternative waiting for a fallen warrior was an inconceivable outcome which he would not even dwell on for himself.
Chapter 12
Li Chin sat at a tavern table braced against a windowless wall. Simple wooden screens made a separate three-sided booth for privacy. He had snuffed out the table lantern so he sat in his own pool of gloom, looking out into the dimly lit and smoky interior of the tavern. Not the kind of hostel he would normally patronise, he had selected it for that reason, seeking anonymity and a quiet space to think.
Li Chin had entered the tavern in the late afternoon when it had been almost empty and had been in deep thought ever since. With the onset of early evening the tavern had gradually filled. The atmosphere was now warm and inviting. Business was brisk with the hard pressed serving staff bringing food from the kitchen to the local patrons. For the last hour two men playing the pipes and strings had been supporting a third who sang bawdy songs from a low platform in one corner.
Many of the customers, all men, seemed to know each other and there were frequent greetings as acquaintances came across each other in the crowded and dimly lit room. A few men played chequers or card games with easy familiarity. Despite the heavy patronage no one seemed interested in sharing Li Chin’s dark corner and he was content for the revelry to carry on around him, observing but remaining separate from it. The other customers were more than happy to leave someone who preferred to spend their time in a cloaking gloom to themselves, or perhaps they detected his sombre aspect and had instinctively steered clear of it.
Li Chin had never had to use money in the past. The Temple had provided for all of his needs. Temple priests lived simple lives and were able to produce much of what they used themselves and while serving as a guardian he acted on behalf of his master, all of his needs provided for by the House he served. He had never handled money and had to a certain extent considered a Temple priest above such issues.
On his way in to the town he had picked up a bronze quarter from the road and had examined the coin curiously. More than ever Li Chin was appreciating the privileges of Temple life, the time its wealth was able to purchase for the pursuit of training, learning and meditation, whereas most men spent all of their energy and time ensuring they produced enough food or money to support themselves and their family. Since early childhood it had been the only life he had known. The privilege and status being taken largely for granted as he had never known different. This was essentially the covenant between the Temple and the Hansee people. The people supported the Temple and its priests in exchange for their wisdom and the priests’ representations to their leaders. In the past they had essentially been the people’s champion and the only means of keeping violent Lords in check. The philosophy had since been co-opted by the emperor’s dynasty following their rise to power. Their ranks dramatically reduced the Temple’s wisdom and protection was now almost exclusive to the ruling dynasty.
Li Chin had managed on meagre rations for the last few days a
nd was hungry. With no means of providing for himself he had been reliant upon the goodwill and generosity of peasants as he travelled. The people least able to afford generosity had proven to be the most generous in sharing what little they had to offer. He had no desire to continue being a burden to those least able to bear it and had pocketed the coin, regarding it as an omen from the Spirits. Unsure of its purchasing power he had given it to the serving girl at the tavern before ordering his rice cakes and water, lest he order beyond his means. He suspected he had already outworn any welcome the small coin had purchased.
Li Chin stretched out his rice cake and jug of water whilst he brooded. He had considered the tumultuous events of the last few days and his own future as a result of them. One thing he had decided with certainty. He would pay no mind to the task set by the Temple elders as he had left; was banished, he reminded himself. The prophecy they had quoted was at best ambiguous and held no message he could either decipher or act upon. It was nothing on which he could base his life and would prove no obvious assistance to him. The first priority must be to put distance between himself and the scene of his battle with Zu Wah’s life guard. He must travel to somewhere he would not be recognised for what or who he was. Li Chin suspected no such place would exist within the empire and the emperor’s vengeance could well ensure no such place would exist even beyond the empire’s borders.
Nevertheless, the empire was vast and the further and quicker he travelled the better his chances. He must also establish a means of supporting himself, though it was unlikely any Great House would employ him in any capacity. Rather than risk the anger of the emperor by knowingly employing a fugitive they would more likely seek to capture and return him to the emperor for the inevitable reward. He had an unparalleled skill with a sword but had no desire to sell his services in this capacity or swear oaths of fealty to a new House, whilst any master or warrior would be likely to instantly recognise him for what he was. He would be unlikely to maintain any anonymity in a high profile advisory or martial role to a Great House. All this left was his knowledge of herbs and healing and to avoid discovery he would have to restrict his services to the poor, those least able to pay for them.