by Brian Thomas
Guang was nodding as he thought it through. “Our posturing would have to be convincing but he cannot allow conflicts to flare now. Afterwards, no doubt we would be equally loud in our declarations of support for the emperor following his equitable ruling on the conflict.”
Master Tanyeu looked to Guang, his own eyes matching the glint he could see at the prospect of adding the towns to their respective estates. “Then let us ensure our generals understand the objective is to battle, without victory or material injury to our own armies, for the conflict and damage to occur in the Wing-Ho province while our forces drift towards their true objectives. All their actions seemingly in support of the general conflict between us. Let us keep each other informed so losses fall upon the ruling House of the Wing-Ho province, the House of Wah, while maintaining the appearance that we seek only to destroy each other.” Tanyeu concluded with all reasonableness. “Our past enmity has largely been to the benefit of the emperor but bold and decisive action will now be to our mutual benefit. It is a time for civilised gentlemen to acknowledge their common interest and wring advantage from the situation which presents itself. A bargain is made Master Guang?”
Guang hesitated for a heartbeat but the reward was too great, the risk contained and the opportunity was now. “A bargain is made Master Tanyeu.”
Both men nodded to each other and then stood. Master Tanyeu concluded. “If I may have my nephew returned safely, I will set about starting our friendly conflict.”
Guang smiled and with a flick of his hand sent his swordmaster to collect the boy. “Of course. Let us set our generals about the bloody business of war and destruction, for the future prosperity of our mutual Houses, Master Tanyeu.”
Master Tanyeu bowed at Guang’s indication of trust by sending his swordmaster away, while he still retained his own. “Indeed. I feel a new era is upon us. So let the warriors be about our bloody business, the bloodier the better, so that we may begin restoring the peace and prosper all the sooner.”
Chapter 21
Zun fended the blows off easily but was nevertheless impressed at how quickly Shushan was developing her sword skills. She was quick, focused and her movements confident, using her speed and agility to avoid his superior strength and reach. The wooden practise swords clacked in what had become a regular practise session for this time of the day.
The practice sessions were the only time when he was able to fully place his concerns from his mind. Concentrating instead on the training his body followed the well rehearsed movements without conscious thought but his mind nevertheless required focus on the demanding physical activity. Enjoying the exercise and taking pleasure from his pupil’s improvement, Zun could not prevent a small smile as he watched the determined expression on Shushan’s face, whilst she deftly avoided his practise blade, diligently repeating the reposts and strikes they had practised.
Noticing his smile Shushan became angry. The careful control over strikes and balance melted away, until she was doing little more than trying to beat him to death with a stick. “Enough!” he called, stepping back from the sparring. Shushan, still angry at him made to continue so he added. “You improve daily and press me such that my head is beginning to hurt with the clacking and banging.”
Seeing the anger turn to instant concern on her face Zun was vexed by the guilt he felt at the deception. Why did he have such little control over his emotions where this woman was concerned and what was he still doing here with the villagers, when by now he should be returning to House Yeu to report and face the consequences of his failures?
Shushan lowered her practise sword and saw that with the cessation of their exercise the morose and introspective demeanour which had become the norm for Zun had already overcome him. As quick as his body had recovered the worse his spirit had become. The practise with swords had been an excuse for exercise to improve his physical health, a dare to teach her, which he had taken up more readily than Shushan had expected. Taking his arm she led him back to the centre of their camp and the communal cooking area. As they drew near her mother and the other women began calling everyone in, the evening meal ready to serve.
Zun struggled with the knowledge he was enjoying the close contact with Shushan, resisting the urge to respond to the light pressure of her hand upon his arm. Enjoying the company of the people he travelled with and looking forward to their company at the meal only made his guilt worse. He had failed in his own eyes, in those of his father and of his piers within their Great House which was his real home. He was now well enough to return and was merely putting off the moment. Further evidence if he needed it of the dereliction of his duty.
Zun gently extracted his arm from Shushan’s hand. “Carry on. I will join you in a short while.” The concern in the young woman’s eyes as she looked up at him merely threw Zun’s mind into further turmoil and reinforced his resolve to leave shortly, before he lose what vestige of honour he still retained. “Eat. I will return soon but I need some quiet before I join you.”
Reluctantly, Shushan nodded. Leaving him in the gathering shadows she went to join the others by the fire. He watched them, wishing to join in the easy camaraderie but compelling himself to face up to his obligations, to return to his House and his own creed.
Zun was gradually swallowed by the shadows of the forest as he forced himself to resist the temptation of joining the friendly camaraderie of the villagers around their fire. Instead, he watched the sunset casting a red glow the breadth of the horizon as the sun slowly sank. The group around the fire had become a collection of shadows and silhouettes against the light from the flames and he was now sitting in impenetrable blackness, lost against the trees. He felt empty, his honour poured out with his failure leaving him a useless vessel with no purpose. Except to report his failure to Master Yeu, he thought bleakly.
The dark night matched his despondent mood. He could put off his report no longer. He was well enough to travel and in the morning he would leave. Zun did not belong here with these people, just as he would no longer have a place in what had been his home at House Yeu.
Lost in his own melancholy Zun was as startled as the villagers when a man’s voice called out that they were all to stay as they were and six shadowy figures ran to encircle the group around the fire from the darkness. Two of the men had appeared between Zun and the villagers their backs to him, silhouetted against the cooking fire they were unaware of his presence. The others he could now see clearly enough in the firelight to recognise as soldiers and two at least wore the emperor’s insignia.
Instinctively Zun rose and carefully picked a route towards the two men standing nearest to him. One of the men on the far side of the camp, a lieutenant by his insignia, strode arrogantly into the throng of cowering villagers to kick over the still steaming cauldron. Remnants of the evening’s meal the others had left for him hissed angrily in the flames.
“My name is Peng, Lieutenant Peng! Fear it. For I have you and your lives are mine!” the man declared angrily. “There is no point denying you fled the village where the emperor’s nephew was murdered. For that crime alone your lives are forfeit but first you will answer my questions.” The lieutenant turned and pointed an accusing finger at Mengpo. “What do you know of a bird’s song?”
Mengpo, obviously concerned shook his head, whether in denial of any knowledge or of not understanding the question was unclear.
Peng, disgusted with the ridiculous questions he had been ordered to ask, demanded angrily. “Do you carry any birds with you as you run? Speak damn you!” and as he shouted the lieutenant kicked Mengpo in the face, sending him sprawling back and into the flames of their cooking fire.
Mengpo, his face bloody from the blow, frantically patted out the flames which had set his tunic alight. Laulun quickly kowtowed to Lieutenant Peng. “We do not have any birds with us Lord. No livestock only vegetables and seed.” Bowing again she added in as deferential voice as she could. “We have heard only the songs of wild birds as we have travelled, Lor
d.”
Switching his attention to Laulun Peng strode over and grabbed a fist full of her hair, viciously turning her face towards him. “Lie to me and you will be sorry old woman. What happened to the birds that were in the village when you left it?”
Laulun put her hands up to her head as Peng twisted her hair in his fist. “Lord, please!” she cried out as he angrily shook her head from side to side. “There were wild birds and our poultry at the village. All of the ducks and most of the chickens were taken by travellers, masters and their court as they passed through the village.” she gasped out desperately.
“Do not treat me like a fool woman. The two hens and a cockerel you kept back, what of them!” Peng shouted in her ear, shaking her head again as he knocked her grasping fingers away with his other hand.
Laulun, tears streaming from her eyes now, called out as her head was being shaken from side to side making it difficult for her to think. “We brought them with us, Lord. We ate them, weeks ago, please Lord….”
Shushan seeing the pain on her mother’s face leapt to her defence. She struck the lieutenant ineffectually with her fists against his chest, screaming for him to let her mother go. In his surprise the lieutenant did release Laulun and instead struck Shushan sharply in the face with the back of his hand. She staggered back, her nose streaming blood. Disorientated by the blow Shushan leant forward and buried her bloody face in her hands.
Striding forward Peng stretched an arm across Shushan’s arched back, scooping her up around the waist and pinning her against his hip with her facing the ground. With a smile, Peng spoke casually to one of the others with him bearing a captain’s insignia just visible in the flickering firelight. “It is a shame about the birds but at least we have discovered what happened to them.”
Turning to his men his tone remained casual as he gave his instructions. “I shall take my pleasure with this one before she joins them but kill the others now.” Peng slapped Shushan across her bottom with his free hand and laughed in anticipation as he spoke. His men closed in silently on the group raising their swords threateningly.
Zun was no longer thinking, only acting in response to a cold fury and sick fear as he saw Shushan struck by the lieutenant. With Lieutenant Peng’s order the need for stealth had gone and he let out a roar as he ran the remaining steps to the nearest two soldiers.
They turned quickly to face the new threat but their eyes blinded by the light of the fire did not see Zun as he charged out of the dark or the wooden practise sword that crushed the exposed throat of the nearest. Thrown back by the impact the man released his own sword, which Zun snatched out of the air. Ducking under the second guard’s clumsy sweeping blow, Zun rolled before thrusting the point of his new blade under the leather skirts of the guard’s armour, deep into his gut.
At the sound of Zun’s roar Mengpo had used his bare hands to scoop handfuls of glowing coals from the fire and throw them at the two soldiers nearest to him. They both instinctively raised their hands to protect their eyes and flinched back from the hot coals. Other villagers leapt at the soldiers pinning their arms as they forced the soldiers to the ground. While the soldiers struggled under a heaving mass other villagers rushed up with small knives and Mengpo picked up a nearby rock to bring it crashing down on the helmeted head of the nearest guard. The force of the blow smashed the lacquered helmet with a sharp crack, followed by a wet crunch.
When Peng saw the shadowy form of the strange warrior storm in to the firelight bellowing a war cry he signalled to an archer he had stationed further back from the camp, screaming “Kill him!”
The archer quickly shifted his aim from the seething group around the fire, stepping closer to Captain Kanto to focus on the shadowy form of Zun battling the two soldiers. Kanto was startled as he recognised Zun’s voice through the clash of steel and reacting instinctively pushed the bow aside shouting, “No!” The arrow shot wild and the thwarted archer turned to Captain Kanto, surprised and momentarily confused at the Captain’s intervention.
As the second guard fell to Zun’s sword, Lieutenant Peng shouted at his frozen archer. “Quick fool, kill him!” prompting the archer to fumble another arrow to his string.
Captain Kanto shouted angrily at Peng. “Hold! He is my son!” Undeterred, the archer was already drawing back on his string and Kanto leapt at him, using his left hand to force the archer’s aim off again while he drew his belt knife and thrust it into the man’s side. Seeing the knife flash towards him the archer threw himself back and turned towards his attacker. Too late to avoid the knife he was thrown back by the force of its impact, his fingers instinctively releasing the arrow at the shock of the blade which pierced his ribs. The metal point of the arrow pierced Kanto’s lacquer breastplate, burying the dark shaft almost to its fletching at the close range.
Lieutenant Peng watched helplessly as Kanto turned his back on him to spoil his archer’s aim. He saw Kanto’s knife thrust and almost simultaneously the bloody arrow point burst through the captain’s back. Shushan had been struggling wildly in his grip but now began searching for Peng’s belt knife. Just as she grasped the handle, the lieutenant dropped her to the ground and drew his sword. For a heartbeat the inconceivable sight of the peasants attacking his men had immobilised him. Then, with a vicious snarl, he raised his own sword and leapt to do bloody murder.
As the lieutenant released her Shushan gripped the leather bound haft of Peng’s knife all the harder, turning the knife in its sheath as she dropped to the ground with a thud. Almost winded by the fall she felt grim satisfaction at seeing Peng’s knife still in her hand and swept it across the back of his exposed knee as he stepped away from her. The knife’s edge was razor sharp and after the slightest of resistance parted the tensed flesh as easily as butter.
Blood from the wound sprayed her face, blinding Shushan and filling her mouth with its warm salty texture as she lay on her side. Instead of leaping to the fight Peng staggered, almost falling while howling at the excruciating pain in his injured leg. The blow had cut his muscle and some of the tendons, ruining his right leg. Turning on his sound leg with a snarl, Peng limped back a step and raised his sword to finish his attacker.
Zun twisted his blade in the soldier’s gut to avoid it sticking as he withdrew it, rising swiftly and booting the dying soldier back into the villagers. Looking for Shushan Zun saw Lieutenant Peng raise his sword and howl in pain before turning to strike down at her prone form. There was no time to reach them from where he was, so he took a double handed hold on the sword and raising it over his head threw it, sending it spinning across the melee by the fire to catch Peng deep in his back, just as Peng began bringing his own sword down.
Shushan swept the blood from her eyes to see the enraged face of Peng bearing down on her, when suddenly a bloody sword tip appeared through his chest. The force of the blow turned him enough so he crashed to the ground beside her, his face inches from her own with a look of shocked surprise replacing the anger while he choked on his last blood filled breath.
The remaining soldier was bearing down on Zun, who was following the flight of his cartwheeling sword on its way to Lieutenant Peng. A hand axe thrown by one of the villagers crashed into the charging soldier’s chest, the force knocking him back and off his feet before he got within striking distance of Zun.
The camp was suddenly silent, except for the heavy breathing of the men who had been pinning down the two soldiers finished by Mengpo. Zun raced over to Shushan who was pulling herself up and away from the now still form of Lieutenant Peng. When he reached her the man wounded by the arrow groaned as he turned on to his back, snapping the dark shaft with an audible crack as he did so. His attention attracted by the movement, Zun froze. Staring in disbelief Zun was stunned on recognising the wounded man was his father. Stepping past Shushan Zun raced to his father’s side and helped him sit up against a tree.
They looked at each other wordlessly. Both knew the wound was mortal and that it would be only moments before the end. Zu
n’s mind was filled with clashing emotions of grief, shame and anger as he looked across in shocked silence at his father. It was his father who broke the silence, forcing out the words through a bloody froth that filled his mouth. “A good throw from so far.”
Zun could no longer meet his father’s eyes. Not only had he failed in his mission, he had now attacked the emperor’s soldiers in the performance of their duty, resulting in his father’s death. The codes allowed no justification for such a dereliction of duty. He was shamed in front of his father beyond all imagining, there could be no possible justification or mitigation.
As tears threatened to fill his eyes he felt his father’s searching fingers grasp his hand, causing him to look up at him again. The expression on his father’s face was fierce beyond anything Zun had seen before and filled with determination as the old man forced out his final words past the bloody froth now choking him. “The witch woman was wrong, for I could not be more proud of you than I am at this moment, my son.” It was clear he wanted to say more but his lungs had filled with blood and he coughed a final mouthful of pink froth before slumping, dead against the tree.
Zun’s own expression remained bleak as he saw the features on his father’s face begin to relax, the old man’s strength ebbing with his life’s blood. The grip on Zun’s hand grew weaker, the grim expression on his father’s face relaxing as his spirit slipped free of his body.
Shushan clutched her stomach to keep from shaking with shock following the brief action. Clenching her teeth to hold back the bile as she remembered how easily Peng’s tendons had sprang apart under the blade she had used, seeing again how his ruined leg had collapsed in front of her eyes. Looking across at the others still around the fire she could see they were in no less a state of shock than she was. Though she was heartened at their grim determination and relief as they sought who might have been injured amongst them. All of them might now be dead she realised, except for Zun’s intervention which had caught their attackers by complete surprise. Unable to prevent a shudder at their near miss, she gently placed a hand on Zun’s shoulder as he knelt before her, still gripping his father’s hand. “He recognised you, spoiling the archer’s aim to save you.” Shushan was weeping silent tears in empathy with Zun’s pain, thinking of her own father and his likely death by now at the hands of the emperor.