by Brian Thomas
They would be vulnerable until the additional guard Zun had ordered arrived and they were not likely to be here for weeks, probably even longer if slowed by a woman of influence. In the meantime he had grown increasingly anxious as the ordered goods had been delivered, the extent of his commitment based on a single meeting with a man he had never heard of before and barely knew worried him. An obvious decision at the time now gnawed at his confidence and increased his anxiety. There would be no recovery from his decision if it proved wrong, made on not much more than a whim as it appeared to him in hindsight.
Zanwen knew there had been considerable speculation about the caravan he was putting together, the armour and weapons being particularly valuable and his own guard contingent being so light. It was inconceivable the world outside the city didn’t know of it and while it was foolish to start short of guards as he was, he had no choice but to leave if they were to catch Ronan before he was compelled to trade with another. Zanwen hesitated before adding his signature, pen poised over the list of goods delivered by his supplier. His signature would commit all he had, more than he had if sale of his current caravan goods went poorly or even, Spirits forbid, it were lost. Taking a firm grip Zanwen signed his acceptance, the agent smiling broadly and bowing repeatedly to Zanwen after he did so. Zanwen tried to take comfort that the decision had been made weeks ago when he had last seen Zun, though it did not make him feel any less vulnerable at this moment.
The factor walked away, happily clinging to the signed document which committed Zanwen’s life savings in return for the goods he had purchased. Zanwen was left sitting alone at a table in the large tea house, feeling exposed and angry at the whimsical notions which had convinced him to bargain with Zun.
There was a commotion outside of the tea house which interrupted his anxious fretting. Looking through the open doorway into the daylight he saw five riders dismounting in front of the building, attracting a lot of attention from passers-by as they did so. He looked on as curious as the passers-by in the street, whilst the riders dismounted to enter the tea house and made towards his table. Zanwen’s curiosity quickly gave way to apprehension as they headed straight for him. The sun directly behind them as they entered his nervousness increased at seeing the sword handles appearing at the top of their silhouettes, though he could make out little else blinded by the light as he was. Zanwen feared a special attachment had been dispatched from the Sun Palace to arrest him for his erroneous trading and cursed his decision to leave all of his men with the caravan without keeping any for his personal protection. They stopped in front of him and he got his first clear sight of them, leaving him blinking like an owl.
“You are Zanwen?” The voice confirmed that it was indeed a woman. Though Zanwen was not yet so old he could doubt she was indeed a striking young woman, despite the fact she was dressed for war and had a scowl to match. In a society where women were expected to defer to men and not awarded any great status her direct and confident manner would have been arresting even without the impact of her martial attire.
Zanwen’s hesitation caused the woman to glare more fiercely, reminding him she had asked him a question. “I am Zanwen,” he confirmed, bemused, though no longer so fearful they came from the Sun Palace.
The woman noticeably relaxed. “I am here to escort you and your caravan. I believe you have weapons and armour for my men?”
Zanwen looked at the four men standing behind the strange woman as he replied in some surprise. “Then you must be The Lady Shushan.” Zanwen regarded her and her men closely. Expecting Shushan to be one of those exceptionally competent women who due to their inherent ability were given administrative responsibility well beyond that of women generally, he had been totally unprepared for how she now appeared. As with Zun their gear was simple but in good order and effective in a limited fashion. After his inspection and seeing the men’s obvious respect for their commander Zanwen had no illusion the weapons and armour she wore were just for show. She placed her hands on her hips, suffering his inspection and inadvertently attracting his attention to the fine lines of old sparring scars on her slim wrists and the back of her hands. Zanwen gave her a small bow. “And indeed, I do have the weapons and armour, though rather more than for the four men you have brought with you.”
The woman’s glare diminished into a mere frown. “There are no masters or mistresses in our town. I am just Shushan.” The frown changed to a sunny smile, making her appear younger and quite stunning, as she added. “I have brought a thousand men with me. The rest are beside your caravan waiting for us to return.” Back to business again she added briskly. “We should go. Zun’s message said we were to deliver the caravan to Tanyel city as soon as we could.”
Zanwen was suddenly amused at this young woman, all efficiency and attempting to bustle him along as though he were a half-senile package to be delivered safely. His concerns of a few moments ago evaporated and he gave his best mock frown, placing his fingertips together as he speculated. “Ah, I think I begin to understand. Just as in the same way that Zun is no Lord, though he commands men and is a swordmaster, you are similarly no Mistress, though you also command men and are a “swordmistress.” Zanwen struggled over the unusual appellation. “I assume that there are also no peasants, though many probably walk behind a plough in this strange town of yours, as they till the fields.” The men behind Shushan smothered small smiles and Shushan frowned again, not quite understanding this odd man’s humour.
Ronan’s caravan was a couple of days away from Tanyel city and Markurd was riding again, appearing more like his old self. Ronan resisted a smile as Markurd caught him looking directly at him, correctly guessing Ronan was assessing his health and recovery. Markurd shot him a disgusted glare before kicking his horse into a gallop which took him to the head of the caravan and Ronan could not prevent a smile from breaking free.
When Markurd had recovered sufficiently to walk and eat solid food Ronan had told him as they all sat around the campfire of the healer’s treatment which had saved his life. The rest of the men had been watching Markurd intently as he listened, first going a little pale and then spitting out his food to curse them all loudly. They had all rocked back laughing uproariously as Markurd had spluttered, not sure whether to believe Ronan and searching the surrounding faces which eagerly nodded their confirmation. Later, when he had calmed, they told him how close to death he had been and how quickly he had began to recover once the healer had tended to him. Eventually, Markurd had taken it all in good faith, though he could regularly be seen making to scratch at the wounds above his hip where he swore he could still feel the damned things wriggling and eating him alive. The knowing smiles from the men who saw this subconscious action had resulted in him glaring at anyone he caught watching him, accompanied by a filthy stream of invective.
Ronan was lagging behind the caravan again, searching the surrounding area as closely as he could for any sign of a man travelling alone with a small wagon pulled by oxen. As usual though, there was no sign of the healer and Ronan wondered if he still lived or whether he had succumbed to bandits, the rough country or any number of mishaps. Dubious about the rumours which abounded regarding the healer and Ping’s reference to the amazing physical feats the Temple priests could supposedly perform, if indeed he was the same man the imperial guards sought, Ronan merely saw an educated court official. Probably a tutor as the title guardian implied.
The healer definitely displayed the arrogance of the educated intellectual, of someone who mixed with the powerful and mighty or at least might have done so until recently. When faced with a lout bearing a blade with no respect for his intellect or learning Ronan had little confidence the healer would be able to talk or trick his way out of trouble as he had apparently done in the past. He looked and behaved like someone used to a cloistered city life and in the wilderness would be completely out of his element.
Hearing a rider approaching Ronan turned to watch as Markurd rode up to join him. Markurd looked pale
and Ronan feared he pushed himself too hard so early into his recuperation, but he could say nothing now that Markurd was up and on his feet.
Correctly guessing Ronan’s previous line of thought Markurd queried gruffly. “Are you now the healer’s mother too?” Ronan ignored the comment and after a short time Markurd relented. “Neither of us treated the lad very well but it is a harsh life and none of us receive what we deserve. You cannot be responsible for everyone in this world.” Ronan gave him a sideways glance and Markurd sucked in air between his teeth. “Aye, alright it sits badly.” Searching the horizon Markurd asked, “Do you think he still lives? He looked pale and unused to the physical demands of an outdoor life, from what I remember?”
Ronan gave a thin smile, remembering how the healer had lifted Markurd’s body while he was ill. “Oh I think he is stronger than he looks, but I wonder about him too. What a Hansee palace flunky knows of surviving in the wilds and how to forage for food while staving off bandits from all directions I have no idea.”
Markurd thought for a while. “Well, he must have some knowledge of wild plants to be an herb man and if he is the same man the Imperial Guard seek he is no wallflower, that’s for sure.”
Ronan nodded. “Oh he has courage, strength and education, but we both know there is no substitute for experience of the wilderness when you are in it and alone. And if he survives the wild, what will he do if attacked? He was not armed from what we saw when we visited his camp, other than for his knife. I do not even remember seeing a bow and he had little in the way of possessions that would have obscured weapons if he had any.”
Markurd frowned. “It would be ironic. An educated healer with nothing of value, skewered by an ignorant thug after his valuables. Though, I’ve never met a priest who actually believed what he preached let alone lived by those same principles.” Smiling, he added, “This one can’t be all that innocent either. Those imperial guards want him real bad for something and they seem to believe him dangerous. Maybe he’s not as vulnerable or green as we think.”
Ronan checked his bow was hooked securely on the saddle behind him and that the quiver was full. “I will take a wide loop around the caravan. Hunt for fresh meat, see what I can find and meet you further ahead.”
Markurd grunted. “Good idea, I will come with you.”
Ronan gave him a firm glance. “I need you to watch the caravan. It will not take two to pull down a deer and I will not be long.” Turning away, Ronan kicked his mount into a trot before Markurd could argue further, he was too weak from his illness still and they both knew it. Besides, the caravan did need watching and Ronan had no intention of doing much more than a broad search and bringing back fresh meat if he could. If along the way he found the healer then so be it. Under no circumstances could he bring the man back into his own caravan, not with the imperial guard searching as they were. But if he did come across him whilst hunting he could offer his thanks and some of whatever he took with his bow along the way.
Li Chin had set up camp in a fold in the land, not entirely hidden but anyone passing would have to be fairly close before discovering his site. He was meditating and part of his mind was recognising how much more deeply he could immerse in deep trance now that he was no longer a guardian. He assumed it was partly because he no longer felt the burden of performing the onerous task of serving another, which conflicted with his own views and values. Perhaps he should be more alert to the emperor’s pursuit of him and the consequences of being captured but he could not bring himself to be overly concerned by it. Death followed life inexorably. Making it all the more important to spend whatever time he had the way he would wish to and the belief he was doing so left him with a sense of wellbeing.
As to the burden of prophecy placed on him by the Temple he had decided some time ago an opportunity would present itself or it would not. Either way, the prophecy was too obscure for him to try and influence its implementation and this would in itself be wrong, assuming even that he could. All in all, he was more content and at peace than he had ever been and this knowledge allowed his inner self to immerse even deeper, until it felt he was no longer even part of the physical world.
In fact, Li Chin realised, he was no longer in the physical world but floating above his own body and looking down at himself. A spirit eyebrow rose in curiosity. Was he dreaming or was he genuinely floating outside of his own body? The raised eyebrow gave way to a small frown, though the seated Li Chin on the ground remained below him in deep trance and motionless. Normally, even when he was in meditation Li Chin remained acutely aware of the physical world around him, more aware if anything than when not meditating as his senses opened themselves up to it on a far more sensitive level. But this was different, he was aware of what was around his spiritual form looking down, rather than his physical form meditating on the ground below. The raised eyebrow returned as he experimented, floating up and through the roof of his tent attached to the side of the wagon. As he continued to rise he could see the land surrounding his campsite and felt a marvellous exhilaration at being free to move in this new dimension. Li Chin no longer believed he was dreaming but accepted he had achieved a new level of attainment; he was spirit walking. Whether he could do it again in the future he was not sure, but knowing it could be done should make it even more likely than now when he had only heard of it in theoretical terms previously.
Deciding to test the limits of his new ability Li Chin swept high into the air, enabling him to look down at his camp from a great height. Seeing a large body of men off to the west and another to the east, almost the same distance apart and both heading in the direction of his camp, he decided to investigate. Speeding off in the direction of the group to the east he lost sight of the other group and was soon hovering over a motley band of mounted men. They were all armed and intent on no good he decided. About to investigate the other group he recognised the man who had been struck by lightning when leading the attack on Laulun’s group of villagers. The man was heavily scarred, looking even more fearsome as a result. He appeared to lead a splinter group, that though part of the band nevertheless kept itself separate.
Having seen enough Li Chin sped in the other direction, rapidly losing sight of the first group of mounted men he was soon hovering over the group to the west. This group were also mounted, riding in columns, uniformed and looking far more soldierly. Li Chin raised an eyebrow again at recognising Zun, the lieutenant who had led the men now approaching with the others from the east but who now no longer appeared to be with Zun. Li Chin wondered what had happened since he had last seen the lieutenant and having left him in Shushan’s care. Li Chin observed the pride and confidence in both Zun and the men he led. He was pleased the lieutenant had lived and found a way past his failure to capture Li Chin. This thought reminded Li Chin his body lay directly in the path of both groups, neither of whom might be expected to favour him with any goodwill. It was time to return and break camp.
Li Chin’s mind was busy thinking of his new experience and what he had seen as he sped back to his camp, slowing his descent as he slipped through the tent roof and into his meditating body. There was a strange sensation as he merged with his body again and Li Chin was immediately fatigued, in direct contrast to the sense of replenishment he normally felt after meditating. He forced his now turgid mind back to the real world and became aware of stiff cold muscles, something he had been totally ignorant of as he naively sped high above the world. Eventually, mind and body fully connected, he opened his eyes with a small sigh of genuine pleasure and satisfaction.
As his real vision cleared and he pushed back his weariness he realised someone sat in front of him, watching curiously. Li Chin was immediately confronted with the hidden dangers his new skill presented, his corporeal self being vulnerable whist his consciousness was away. From both the physical elements, he guessed at feeling so cold and stiff, plus anyone or anything which might choose to harm him whilst he remained totally ignorant of any threat. He pondered what would happen
to his wandering soul if it had no home on this earth to return to. Would it wander forever, no longer on the Great Wheel of Life and missing any opportunity to return to a new life, or would it resume its natural course as his body died to drift up to the stars and join the ancestors. An interesting consideration, but for a different time he decided while regarding Ronan, who carefully fed another stick into the small fire which had only burnt his incense last time he looked.
“You looked cold, so I built up the fire. I hope that was the correct thing to do?” Ronan asked.
Li Chin regarded Ronan curiously, placing fingertips together and giving a small bow. “Most considerate. Yes I find I am a little chilled and the fire will have helped.”
There was a pause while Ronan regarded the small flames licking at the stick he fed to the embers of the fire. “You were not asleep. Otherwise you would have woken when I entered. Last time I came upon you like this you were aware that Markurd and I were with you. Though your eyes were closed you were watching with all of your senses. This time it was different. I have been here a long time and you were completely unaware of my presence.”
Li Chin considered what Ronan had said. It had not felt like a long time to him. Perhaps the rejoining of Spirit and body took time or his sense of time was distorted while he spirit walked. He found the anomaly interesting but it again emphasised the dangers accompanying his new ability. “I was in another place.” he replied enigmatically.
Ronan looked up frowning. “This place, where we are now, is a dangerous place which seeks out the weak and the unwary. You had best remain in it and respect it while you are here, or it will kill you.”
Li Chin bowed again. “I am grateful you sat and watched over me while I was vulnerable.”