by JC Kang
The imposter giggled. “I still would’ve deflected it, had your aim been any better.”
Light flooded the room as the half-elf Yan Jie opened her hand to reveal a magical Aksumi light bauble. Half the households on the continent owned one, but the sprite-like girl might have a dozen hidden in her black linen dress. Unarmed to the untrained eye, she was a walking arsenal.
She bounded across the cabin to envelop him in a warm hug. He fought off her affectionate embrace and stepped back. Making a mental note to check his pockets for any stolen items, he took a good look at his best friend.
Short and lithe, she hadn’t changed in eight hundred and ninety-two days, her father’s ageless elf blood giving her the appearance of a tween. It also accounted for her particularly large brown eyes and slightly pointed ears. Her pulled-back dark hair framed sharp features.
She flashed an impish grin. “How’d you know it was me imitating the Crown Prince?”
“Your Mockingbird’s Guise technique couldn’t deceive my Seeing Ears. Or maybe that was the most outrageous command. About me inheriting. I do hope my family is well?”
“Yes, of course, your father was never better. Your eldest brother Zheng Ming, in fact...” She shook her head. “But I forget why I’m really here. I’ve come by imperial command.”
He smirked. “What mischief have you been wreaking? On the imperial court?”
“Oh! It’s been so exciting, you’d never believe it. I was assigned to protect Princess Kaiya—”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t believe it.” The shock of hearing the princess’ name stirred not so much memories, which had faded with time, as a sense of nostalgia for innocence lost a decade ago.
“It’s true! And she’s nothing like your childhood memories. She’s not fun or playful. She’s very serious, very proper, very guarded.”
“Really?” Serious, proper, and guarded would never describe the girl he’d grown up with. She’d been adorable then, and stories said she was now a once-in-three-generations beauty. How could she have changed so much? “Now I really don’t believe you.”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Jie cast him a wounded look, which he dismissed.
“Maybe stretched the truth. A little...”
Her mouth spread into a toothy smile. “Well, if I told you everything that happened, you’d think I was a golden-tongued storyteller inspired by the old tales from the War of Ancient Gods. Like how she vanquished a dragon and enchanted the entire Ayuri Paladin Council of Elders.”
“So, if you were the princess’ prized bodyguard. Why are you here? Telling me tall tales. Instead of enjoying more adventures?” Tian raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“Oh right. It’s a long story, but basically, I was sent ahead by imperial command to deliver a message to Ambassador Wu—”
Tian rolled his eyes. “So why all the secrecy? Why have me come here? So urgently?”
“Oh, I was just having fun with you.” She grinned and winked at him.
“Impersonating royalty. It’s a capital offense.”
Her lip twitched as she fought off another grin. “I risked my life, hoping you wouldn’t report me.”
“I don’t understand. Why do you have an imperial command? Just to deliver a message? Why didn’t the court just send it? With the diplomatic packet?”
“You never did let me get to that.” Or rather, she’d kept changing the subject. “I’m also supposed to learn about the operations here and arrange security. The princess is coming in a month.”
CHAPTER 2:
The Games We Play
If there was one thing Jie knew better than spying, interrogation, and dirty fighting, it was the psychology of Zheng Tian.
His eyes widened and lips parted for a split second. Then his face blanked as only a Moquan’s could. If he thought the clan’s empty expression could hide his thoughts, or make him look objective...
Objective indeed! There she was again, lingering on his lips. He probably knew exactly how many days had passed since they’d last seen each other, though more out of habit than for any affection he might have for her.
Jie arranged her own expression into playful nonchalance, while Tian’s face reverted to his sometimes endearing, always infuriating Older Brother look.
His voice droned in trained disinterest. “Why is she—”
She held up a hand to silence him. “You’re on a need-to-know basis, and—”
“I don’t need to know,” he said, finishing their oft-repeated exchange.
“Actually, you do.” Heavens, it was fun to mess with his head. It had been too long. “Just not this second. It’s been a long journey, and I would really like to put my feet on solid ground. More details when I settle in, I promise.”
Before he could press the matter, she dropped a few boxes of her personal effects in his hands and ushered him out of the cabin and onto the deck. After disembarking from the ship, he placed her things on a wooden cart, atop carefully crated and stacked trade wares. They then joined the two dozen sailors and porters heading back to the embassy compound.
Their group drew so many stares from the locals, they might have been a circus troupe, with a pointy-eared half-breed as star of the freak show. She’d need to cover her ears to move anonymously through the city.
No sooner had she set foot in the marketplace than the foreign culture began its assault on her senses. The drab colorlessness of Iksuvius only emphasized the confounding diversity of foul smells. The spoiling crustaceans had chosen long-dead fish as dancing partners, with rotting onions and garlic as an audience. Did the gamey odor come from the squalid goats tethered to a vendor’s dilapidated wooden stall, or from the unwashed vendor himself? She’d seen splattered human brains and disemboweled entrails without flinching, yet now had to fight down rising bile.
“You get used to it.” Tian’s crooked smile made her stomach flutter in a completely different way.
He always knew what she was thinking. Heavens, she was becoming just as sappy as Princess Kaiya around a certain flamboyant lord. Her lips curved into a grin of their own accord. “When?”
“Winter. When it cools down.”
“It’s already chilly enough, and it’s still summer!” Jie tightened her shawl around her shoulders. It wasn’t just her. Beggars in tattered woolen clothes huddled together by weathered storefronts to soak up the last rays of afternoon sun, while shopkeepers and merchants donned flannel and wool jackets.
“Oh, it gets worse. In the dead of winter. The cold will freeze you to the marrow. Unfortunately it will do the same to the homeless and destitute. ”
They continued down the packed dirt road. Although her training emphasized detached observation, the abject poverty was appalling. Hua had been stable for almost three centuries, and wealthy her entire lifetime. Sure, there were still many poor people, but it didn’t begin to compare to here. So many beggars in one place! A toothless girl in rags crouched near a squat wooden building, gumming down a crust of moldy bread.
“Abandoned child.” Tian must be reading her thoughts again, or at least following her eyes. “Taxes are so high. Parents can’t afford to raise more than a few children. Many girls are sold into brothels. Or simply kicked out onto the street.”
Abandoned! Jie shuddered. She might have shared the same fate as these discarded girls had her father not left her as a bawling babe at the front gates of the Moquan’s Black Lotus Temple. Master Yan had raised her as his own, though he had lost the only hint of her identity. The letter pinned to her swaddling blanket spoke of a human mother who died giving birth and a father too busy to be burdened. Jie would always carry that resentment towards her father—and the aloof elves in general.
She sucked on her lower lip. There were no elves to be found here. They were too prim and prissy for a stinking backwater like this. Up ahead, a group of ruffians extorted protection money from a protesting baker. Yet the greasy-looking man and his half-dozen thugs wore the light blue and yellow uniforms of Iksuvi s
oldiers. Longswords hung at their sides.
“Tax collector,” Tian whispered. “Iksuvi pays a king’s ransom in tribute. To the Teleri Empire. They call it an alliance. It places a heavy burden on the citizenry. Still, the Iksuvi commoners are generous. That baker will give leftovers to the beggars.”
The shopkeeper bobbed his head and proffered a purse.
The tax collector swiped it away, though his grin transformed into a scowl as he looked inside. He started to say something, when one of his henchmen leaned over and whispered in his ear. Both men turned and looked directly at Jie. Nothing good would come of this.
A lurid smile appeared on the tax collector’s face, and he gestured for his men to follow him as he approached. “Who is in charge here?” He spoke in Arkothi, the common language of the North, though it was heavily laced with a Nothori accent.
A young trade official strode forward and offered a few papers with a curt nod. “You will find that all documentation is in order,” he said in his own accented Arkothi.
The tax collector waved the papers away while his attention edged towards Jie. “I am sure they are. But I have heard vicious rumors that you Cathayi are smuggling in contraband. Certainly you will not mind if we take a quick look to dispel this hearsay?”
Tian leaned over and whispered, “This is a common occurrence. We have to bribe them. Otherwise, they’ll keep us here for hours. Young Zhu has a few silver coins ready. Just for these contingencies.”
Just as Tian said, Zhu reached into his wide sleeves and produced a dozen Hua coins, strung together through square holes in their centers. “I am sure this more than covers any import duties.”
The tax collector shook his head, his expression wounded even as he took the coins. “No, no, I am not that kind of man. I take my responsibilities very seriously.” On a hand signal, the Iksuvi soldiers began to move among the carts, while he himself sauntered over to Jie.
And not to give a warm welcome, no doubt. She cast her gaze downwards, assuming the role of a servant, even as she mentally prepared for confrontation. Tian sidled closer to her.
“Do you have papers, girl?” The man lifted her chin, his hand reeking of a musk which did little to cover his pungent sweat. His pigeon-like eyes leered at her. It would be easy to dislocate every joint from his elbow to finger tips in two seconds. Still, she feigned nervousness, trembling at his scrutiny.
Tian’s hand closed around hers, the electricity of his touch breaking her concentration. Angry at herself for the lapse, she refocused on the situation.
“My wife,” Tian said. “Just arrived from Cathay.”
A lie to counter a lie. Still, her heart fluttered.
“She looks too young to be married.” The man turned her head to the side, jolting Jie out of her fantasy. “I need to see documentation for all females. We do not want those of an...unsavory profession...coming to our noble kingdom.”
Noble, indeed. If anyone was unsavory—
“I’ve never heard of such rules,” Tian said.
“New guidelines. She will have to come with us.” The tax collector shrugged and drew Jie closer.
The games adults played. Jie made a show of turning her head. She’d play along until an opportune moment to escape presented itself, then find her way to the Hua embassy.
Tian stepped forward. "I will accompany her."
"I am afraid that is out of the question." The tax collector's tone was apologetic. His grin was anything but. "You are in our country and will follow our laws. Now step back before I have all of your cargo impounded."
Tian’s grip loosened, while his weight shifted. He was readying himself to fight! Over such a trivial matter, no less.
She clasped his hand tighter, leaving her index finger free to tap on his palm in a Moquan code. Don’t. Only seven. I have this. Not here. Non-lethal.
He relaxed and turned to her, eyebrow raised. “Are you sure?” he asked in their native tongue.
“It should be easy to slip away from these oafs.”
A male with a deep voice boomed from behind her, in perfect Arkothi: “That is no way to treat a married woman.”
Everyone turned to the half-dozen Teleri soldiers in impeccable black tunics emblazoned with a nine-pointed golden sun on their chests. Onlookers gave them a wide berth as they approached in precise formation. The ruling race of the Teleri Empire, the Bovyans stood half a head above even the tall Nothori folk. With the exception of their even taller leader, whose dark locks fell to his shoulders, they all sported close-cropped hair.
Jie gritted her teeth. Her own experiences with Bovyans—a two-year mission in the Teleri heartland, as well as several run-ins with the Bovyan spies in Vyara City, and Bovyan charlatan Akolytes in Selastyas—had been less than cordial.
The tax collector stiffened, his hand slipping from Jie’s chin. He looked around for his men, but they conspicuously kept their distance. He licked his lips. “As if a Bovyan knew the first thing about marriage. This is an Iksuvi state matter, and none of your business.”
The young Teleri leader, a general by the sun insignia on his collar, stepped closer to the cowering man. His chiseled features might have belonged to the Arkothi Sun God Solaris, from whom the Bovyans descended. “It is our business. The Teleri care deeply about how our allies treat our trading partners. Now, run along and harass your own citizens. I would hate to see an incident mar our nations’ relations on the eve of the Northwest Summit.”
The tax collector scowled as he backed out of the general’s shadow. Turning on his heel, he snapped his fingers at his men. Heads down and shoulders slumped, the lot of them slunk towards another shop.
What a surprise; a noble Bovyan. Jie dipped into a curtsey. With Tian still clasping her hand, they might have been about to start a Northern-style dance. “My deepest gratitude for your intervention on my behalf.”
The general dipped into a sweeping genuflection reminiscent of the old Arkothi Empire. When he straightened, he was grinning. “It’s me, Marius di Bovyan. I am only returning the favor from two years ago. You can always find me at the Teleri Embassy in the city center.”
Jie maintained a smile, even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Perhaps all half-elves looked alike, because obnoxious sailors, a Paladin Master, and now a Bovyan general all claimed to have met her. Sometimes in places she’d never visited.
One of the Teleri cleared his throat. “General, we are late.”
“Of course.” General Marius winked. At his command, the column marched out of the marketplace with the same precision they had entered.
“Well. That was interesting.” Tian released Jie’s hand, scuttling any hope that he’d maintain the act.
She nodded. “Yes; he was more the image of the Bovyan Knights of old, and not like the Teleri brutes and rapists they have become. And I have no idea what favor he is referring to.”
The caravan proceeded without further incident, and arrived at the embassy.
Jie stared wide-eyed at the amount of white stone that had gone into its construction. It gave the grounds the feel of a northern-style fortress, even if the sloping blue roof tiles hinted at a Hua architectural influence.
Tian led her to the main residence, through the vaulting foyer and up the broad wooden steps to the second floor. Her room had a window facing west towards the harbor. The red sun hovered just above the water, bathing the room in a fiery glow.
“So. Why is the princess coming here?” Tian’s tone was impatient.
Let him squirm a little. Jie placed a few boxes by the foot of the bed.
“Especially during the Northwest Summit,” he added.
It was more fun to keep Tian in suspense. Jie walked across the room and leaned her elbows against the window sill, looking out onto the city. The side streets, which a drunkard must have laid out, provided many bottlenecks, ambush points, and escape routes.
Tian shuffled behind her. He was close to his bursting point.
She turned around to f
ace him and spoke with detached nonchalance. “The princess is to be betrothed to the Teleri First Consul.” It was a Moquan interrogation trick: glibly throwing out nonsense to gauge a reaction.
The twitch of his lips, flashing before he buried it under years of training, betrayed his disappointment. Yet, he didn’t miss a beat. “Bovyans don’t marry. They breed. Prolifically. To sustain the Teleri war machine.”
Jie forced a laugh. “Zheng Tian, you have become gullible since we last met. Has the cold frozen your brain?”
Again, his mask dropped briefly, the brow above his high-bridged nose relaxing.
So he still had feelings for the princess after all these years. Now it was her turn to hide disappointment behind an inscrutable expression.
“Why is she really coming?” He locked eyes on her. Beautiful, intelligent eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.
Where to start? She could write a novel. Jie withdrew a lacquered box from her things. “Here, an imperial edict. I was instructed by the Tianzi’s own order to deliver this into the hands of Ambassador Wu.”
Frowning, Tian bowed to the edict as protocol demanded. He then extended his hand towards the door. “Come. Let me introduce you to the ambassador.”
Ambassador Wu Liming’s office was on the other end of the mansion, on the second floor, a spacious anteroom to his personal quarters. Two large windows looked east out onto the Alto River. Hanging scrolls with brush-and-ink style paintings and calligraphy adorned the walls.
The ambassador sat behind a meticulously clean sablewood desk, between the windows and facing the doors. Stocky and middle-aged, he wore a blue silk robe. His long hair, drawn back into a pony tail, was as white as his short mustache and thin beard.
Jie had visited the Foreign Ministry archives in Hua before her departure, and had already learned about him. He’d been assigned to establish the embassy in Iksuvi twenty years ago—ostensibly to bolster trade, but more importantly to keep an eye on this crossroads between the Nothori Kingdoms and their Teleri masters.
Tian guided Jie across the plush Ayuri carpet covering the hardwood floors, and cleared his throat. “Godfather,” he said, “the Wild Orchid carried some unwanted cargo.” He coughed as Jie jabbed him in the back with her finger. “This is Yan Jie. My sister from the temple.”