by T. A. Miles
Thinking it through so thoroughly, Xu Liang came to a point of doubt. Something about the scenario was incorrect.
“What would Han Quan have done with a dragon, had it survived?”
The question reached him, and he began to ponder it before he realized that it was, in fact, a question issued to him, not generated of his own thoughts. He looked to the one who had delivered it, and bowed his head out of gratitude. The dragon may have been the incorrect detail. He said to Shirisae, “I cannot say. I would not presume that he would have had the ability to control it, but I cannot conclude that he did not have some method by which to bargain with it.”
The lady elf had her golden eyes on the road ahead, one which currently passed through the edges of the village gathered around the People’s City. Many people watched along the roadside and some offered cheers of encouragement to the soldiers while others looked on with curiosity and still others, anxiety.
The skirmishes within the Five Kingdoms were disheartening, and had been persisting for far too long. That such a large force from the Imperial City was required to restore order must have been both discouraging and alarming. Clearly, a greater military presence would be required at Chu Yao Castle in order to protect against further rebellion. More troops would draw from the population and in the way of stationing some of the number that would be required to provide adequate defense, it would tax the land, the finances, and potentially the security or the morale of residents. For a time, gold and food would have to be transported in order to maintain the liveliness of the area and to promise hope rather than instill fear or doubt. War was comprised of a delicate sequence of events, much like playing a stringed instrument. One’s mind had to be as nimble as one’s fingers, one’s choices both present and tactful, exuding strength and grace simultaneously.
“Do you think that there are more?” Shirisae asked on the subject of dragons.
Again, “I cannot say. Undoubtedly, some of the young have made their way to the wilderness. How easy it will be for them to survive, and to grow, I’m not certain. Sheng Fan is home to other dragons—our histories and legends are filled with accounts of them—but they are very seldom witnessed.”
“It’s much the same way in the west,” Shirisae said. “Legends tell of a time when dragons maintained dense populations in certain areas, and even built cities—as you know. It’s not often that such a beast is encountered in recent years.”
Xu Liang nodded while he considered the facts as they seemed to be. “I wonder if such creatures hibernate.”
“For lengthy periods,” Shirisae put in, looking in his direction. “I had wondered that myself. If that’s so, it could be that we’re in an era of several awakenings.”
That was possible. Xu Liang could not fathom what that would mean for Sheng Fan or for Dryth. “Do you believe that the creatures who built Vilciel would return to it?”
“And now I must admit that I cannot say,” Shirisae replied. “If they do, my people will defend the home that the Phoenix led them to…if it’s necessary.”
The comment suggested the possibility of dragons being reasoned with. It brought Xu Liang back to the promise of the dragon from the underground.
There are more. They are stronger. They will be released.
IT REQUIRED SEVERAL hours of travel for Shirisae to let go of the fact that thousands of armored men were marching behind her. The sound of their movement was indescribable, relentless layers of clamor from the booted feet of men, the shod feet of the horses, the armor of both…
There was nothing Shirisae would compare it to and allowing Xu Liang to drift into his thoughts had left her to focus on it overly for most of their passage over the low hills and grassy fields that surrounded the Imperial City. Eventually, she narrowed her sensory perception to what was immediately around her and familiar, which included herself, Xu Liang, and each of his guards who had accompanied. A pang of mild sorrow for the absence of the allies she had left Vilciel with came over her, which also led her to miss her twin again as well. She found solace in considering the guidance of her mother, but that passage grew closer around her in an unpleasant way when she thought of what Ahjenta hadn’t told her, some of which she was only learning now. That corridor of her mind should not have felt so doomed, but Shirisae found that it had little room for the unexpected. And the unexpected was Xu Liang.
She was impressed with him by now, despite her early attempts to make herself unimpressed. It was true that his survival through a ritual rarely performed cast a more meaningful light on him in her eyes, but she had been stubborn enough to overlook even that in her insistence to place a greater value on the presence of someone else at another time she felt that the Phoenix had spoken. She was over feeling foolish about Tristus; she understood that had been the inevitable manifestation—albeit brief—of the usurper in her, perhaps in any child on a path of such important inheritance as hers. She was grateful that her immature play at power had gone for the most part undignified. Over the course of her travels she had prepared herself for truth, that she might understand it and accept it in the style of her mother’s grace. Where the Phoenix was concerned, she had done that. But all that she had come to went beyond the Phoenix. Truth had in fact come to her, in a many layered form; intelligence, command, and beauty. Xu Liang represented all of those, even without the Phoenix. The curious aspect of all of it was that the more she had looked for the god, the more she had come to notice the man. Beyond curious, was the way it made her wish the Phoenix were not involved. She had never seen her god as a bringer of doom before, but she was beginning to now. When all of this was done, what would become of Xu Liang, who was not an elf? Would he be spent by the Phoenix and cast aside so that she might assume her role as the next priestess?
Taya’s fears were beginning to seep beneath Shirisae’s skin now. She had no desire to affect someone in such a way—to introduce him to her god, that he might be empowered to serve a purpose and then be left behind when the Phoenix moved to its next phase. She did not know it would be that way. The Phoenix had restored others in the past and not committed them to the role of D’jenti. But that role was reserved for a full cycle, and only Ahjenta could have known that the Phoenix was rising. She had left Shirisae to discover and understand that for herself. And now Shirisae had. And now she regretted it.
She wondered how much Xu Liang understood. She wondered if he would grow to resent her.
Unaccustomed to doubt, Shirisae shook it from her mind by resorting to her faith. The Phoenix would not have selected Xu Liang if he was unfit or unwilling. In his way, Xu Liang had agreed—if not committed himself—to carrying the Phoenix.
With that thought, she looked at him. For a moment or two, she admired his unique profile. The Fanese people were different than the humans of the western parts of Dryth. Like many of the elven races, their coloring was consistent with only mild variances in the precise tone. In Xu Liang’s case, his form was longer and slenderer; similar to an elf, though she understood that some of Xu Liang’s structure was owed to physical weakness he had brought upon himself through the strengthening of his spirit. She overlooked that easily, because it did not affect his leadership or his ability to contribute to combat. Apart from that, he was growing stronger. Even if it wasn’t visibly noticeable yet, it was in his stride, his less frequent attacks of exhaustion, and it was in his hands, which currently had a sure grip on the reins. The mystic had always exhibited superb posture, so Shirisae could not make assessments based upon how tall he appeared in Blue Crane’s saddle, his black hair and blue robes draping behind him. The robes were a predominantly darker blue currently, with pale blue and lavender layers beneath. The bird pattern wrapped the ends of his sleeves and sprawled fancifully around the base of the top robe.
“You’re very lovely,” Shirisae decided to tell him.
Xu Liang looked at her. He hesitated to nod in his customary manner for showing appreciation.
Surely, he had been paid such a complimen
t many times. Perhaps he tired of hearing it. Still, “I won’t apologize for my opinion,” Shirisae said. “But it was not my intent to annoy you.”
She realized that annoyance was the wrong word when he demonstrated just that in the mild stitching of his eyebrows. It was the expression of discomfort he had expressed at one time when she asked about his empress, and whether or not he loved her. She had come to the conclusion at the time that he had once been in love with someone, even if not the Empress. And with that, she recalled the night she had followed him through the rain.
“Xu Liang,” she began, attempting to put forward a more delicate tone over direct. “That night when I followed you in the storm…you claimed that you were compelled out of doors by an amulet.”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “My need to reclaim it, for the reasons I shared with you.”
Shirisae nodded. “I recall. But you were also quite disturbed…upset, I would say. Would you tell me by what?”
Xu Liang continued to look at her—he had no qualms about maintaining eye contact, no matter the topic. He would stare challenge in the face until he was finished with it, and then he would dismiss it altogether by closing his eyes or by bowing his head and looking ahead of him. He did not dismiss it at once, however. He said, “Prince Song Lu—the Empress’ elder brother and onetime heir apparent to the throne of Sheng Fan—was, for many years, my closest friend. He had scarcely ascended to take his father’s place when he was assassinated by criminals.”
Shirisae watched him speaking. Seeing that the topic still upset him—she could see the upset collecting in the corners of his eyes—she looked away, allowing him to do the same. “You loved him very much,” she deduced.
“I did,” Xu Liang answered. Though they could not speak quietly because of the sheer ruckus of the troops following, there was no need for privacy among men who could not understand the western tongue they continued to use while Shirisae remained unable to speak conversationally in Fanese.
“His death was a surprise and you have not recovered,” Shirisae said.
“I haven’t,” Xu Liang admitted without remorse or shame for his persistent grief.
That his tone was so precisely without either told Shirisae that it was not an unexpected state for him to be in. She believed there was still more to the matter than customary mourning, however, some level of pain that would not permit him to move forward.
“Do you believe it was your failure?” Shirisae asked him.
Xu Liang surprised her by saying, “The assassination of an emperor is the failing of all of his servants. I regret to say that I…retaliated against my peers who I believed were guiltier than myself. I ordered their execution.”
He spoke the last words as if to fit them in before Shirisae could request an explanation. She did not know if she would have asked for one or not, but since he had given it, she said, “Is that what haunts you?”
“It is not,” the mystic answered, and they had reached the point of dismissal. “I would rather not discuss this.”
Shirisae respected his privacy on the matter. She said nothing more. In the corner of her vision, she detected Gai Ping looking in her direction. The elder could not have understood their conversation, but he may have been deciphering the tone of it. When she looked at him, he merely bowed his head, which indicated very little to her regarding his thoughts.
BY SUNSET, camp had been made. And an impressive display it was. The settling of the Fanese troops made for a town in its own right, one comprised of many circular tents, weapons propped on simple racks, horses loitering where they’d been assigned by their riders, mounted lanterns, and even a lookout tower that had been constructed on the site by the troops that had moved through the area weeks ahead of them. Shirisae imagined that the tower had been the point they were intended to arrive at before nightfall, and took the fact that they had arrived to mean that they were within the desired timeframe where travel was concerned. They were one day nearer to the battle at Fa Leng, a battle Shirisae suspected had been one of the foremost matters on Xu Liang’s mind for some time now. She believed that the quest for the Swords had been an aside to his typical duties, which evidently was to conduct and enforce order within Sheng Fan. And now that he had brought the weapons to his country and established their worth, he could continue his work. Being that she was the only of the other bearers present, the significance of her role felt somewhat diminished by this. She felt like an observer for the time being, but she refused to trouble herself over it. She would have felt worse waiting for Xu Liang to return, believing that her duties to the Phoenix were being neglected.
Movement amid the camp was carefully limited, enough that the men would grow accustomed to her presence, but not so much that she would overwhelm them. Xu Liang requested that she not wander alone, but always in the company of either himself or one of his guards. She agreed, and while Xu Liang studied his battle plans, she walked with Shi Dian and Cai Zheng Rui. They positioned themselves to either side of her, and just behind, as if they were in attendance to her the way they attended Xu Liang. She appreciated their stations, and the amount of respect that they not only maintained for the mystic, but that they’d developed for his allies. They were all each other’s allies, and she cared for them in the same way she had come to care for the dwarves and her fellow bearers. She included Alere, though he continued to be recalcitrant to familial sentiment from anyone save for Xu Liang. It was plain to see that their stubborn Verressi had opened up to the mystic. Shirisae had watched him take advantage of the times when Xu Liang had been riding alone throughout their travels. She had also detected his jealousy while she did the same thing.
Alere was young, and had been very hurt by his losses. He was indeed a child of death, though Shirisae would not be so quick to point that out to him now.
Beneath a twilight sky, she drew to a halt below the wooden tower the previous soldiers had built and looked up at a trio of men arranging their torches on the rims of the box they would occupy for now. They had full quivers at their backs and wore flexible layers of scale armor with helmets. The tunics beneath were a shade of blue just darker than Xu Liang’s robes, matching the background of the Ji banners. Men who Shirisae determined were officers tended to have some deeper blue layers, or plumes of feathers adorning their helms. As well, their sheaths and other adornments tended to be gilded.
Shirisae stepped beneath the crossbeams of the watchtower, grabbing up an overlong stem of flowering grass along the way. She twirled it in her fingers while she walked to the other side of the tower’s base and looked to the mountains of the south. They appeared as distant pillars, reminding Shirisae of the many vast towers of Vilciel. But these were the creations of the gods, not of dragons. And on the other side of them, men were battling over the things men typically battled over. But it was different here. Sheng Fan was the starting point of change, change that would affect all of Dryth. Shirisae believed it was that important, not only because the Phoenix had chosen to take part, but because Xu Liang believed it. He was indeed a very wise person. She had recognized that from the start.
While she stood beside one of the support pillars of the tower, observing the distance, a man on horseback came between her and the view. He was an officer with some age about him. There was gray visible in his beard and lines tracing the contours of his face. He observed her for a lengthy moment beneath the shade of his plumed helmet and a heavy brow.
Shirisae observed him in return, aware of Firestorm at her back. She had to control her instinct to take a defensive stance. It was easier, since neither Shi Dian nor Cai Zheng Rui seemed to bristle at all. Still, the man’s demeanor was stern and it would be natural to assume that he had criticism or disapproval on his mind.
In direct contradiction to that thought, the officer bowed his head low, then guided his mount away.
Shirisae watched him depart, deciding soon afterward that she would make her way back to Xu Liang’s tent.
THE BATTLE PLANS for
Fa Leng were spread before Xu Liang on a low table pieced together from components carried from the Imperial City. It was one of the luxuries of travel that had been lost since the Flatlands of the Yvarias. Xu Liang had not forgotten such comforts, but he appreciated them fully now.
Gai Ping placed a cup of wine on the table, which Xu Liang noted, but did not take just yet. The details of the charts before him beckoned. Much of his plan would depend upon how far Tian Qi’s forces had pushed Xun by the time reinforcements arrived. To the border would not be far enough. It had come time to take whichever outpost or fortress Ha Ming Jin had been relying on for the duration of his rebellion. Annexation of a portion of the Southern Kingdom on the Empress’ behalf would make a statement, one that was overdue. Ha Ming Jin seemed to have forgotten his responsibilities and the trust that had been installed in the Ha family as presiders over the governing of that territory. It was Ha Ming Jin’s duty to protect and guide the people within the borders of Xun, not to endanger them through arrogant assault on the people of Ji. All people within Sheng Fan were children of the Empire and should not have been taking arms against one another over the insolent squabbles of officials who could not be satisfied to be among the Empress’ most trusted.
Based upon the consensus of the reports from the region, Jin Fu Castle was the primary source for Xun’s support. The hill fortress had considerable sprawl over open land, which would make its defense difficult. There was bound to be a less protected side, and naturally it would be the southern. Unfortunately, its sheer width would make any attempt to maneuver troops around it—particularly to surround it—excessively risky. There were two significant outposts in the area as well as three gates leading to Jin Fu. The lands were heavily forested on both sides of the border. The point of the most important exposure would be at the castle itself, and it was protected by Miao Yuntai, a man renowned for his patience. With enough troops and walls that were well-fortified, it would be a struggle to dislodge him.