by JC Kang
With her feet unable to grip the ground, the power of her voice died on her lips. All grace and martial technique forgotten, she twisted around and flailed at him. Her long hair allowed him to stay out of reach as he dragged her inexorably towards the river.
At the bank, he spun her hair into a thick coil around his hand. She frantically tried to hold on to her precious locks, but her hands only became entangled.
Holding the dagger in an underhand grip, he slid his arm up the coil, pushing her fingers back through the mass. With a lightning twist of his wrist, the blade slashed through her hair. The sudden cut sent her tumbling to the ground, butt first.
They both stared at the long, voluminous bundle in his hands.
Her hair.
He had cut her hair.
Kaiya screamed. Staggering to her feet, she lurched over to Tian and repeatedly battered him with her hands. In her rage and sorrow, she barely noticed that tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks as well.
Too late, the imperial guards appeared at the top of the bank and scrambled down. Where had they been?
Chen Xin lunged forward, seizing Tian’s robe. Tears glistened in his eyes. “What have you done?”
Tian flopped to the ground when Chen Xin threw him down.
Still weeping, Kaiya turned around and clambered up the riverbank. She stumbled to the road and collapsed against a boulder. With short, ragged breaths, she ran her hands through the remains of her hair, finding the cut rough and jagged. Only a finger-length towards the back of her head, it lengthened to an uneven hand-width towards the top.
Her hair.
Zhao Yue and Ma Jun staggered after her and bowed, watching in silence.
They pitied her.
She raised her head.
Both guards dropped to their knees, offering their sabers forth in two hands. “Forgive me, Dian-xia!” they shouted in unison.
Kaiya looked back down towards the river.
She was the daughter of the Tianzi. The blood of the gods coursed through her veins. A ruler should not shed a tear over personal loss. Tian did what he had to, did what she could have never done herself.
Setting her jaw, she wiped the tears from her face. The chafing fibers served as yet another reminder of how far she had fallen. With a deep breath, she rose and marched back to where Chen Xin and Li Wei detained Tian. Zhao and Ma trailed a respectful distance behind.
Choking on his own sobs, Tian knelt down, hands on top of his bowed head. His heart pumped guilt through his veins. It was surprising, actually. He shouldn’t feel guilty for something that gave them the best chance of survival. So why did it feel so awful?
Better to die, here and now, than carry the shame of hurting his childhood friend.
Chen Xin and Li Wei both stood cross-armed in front of him, though neither held a weapon.
Tian barely recognized his own voice through its hoarseness. “I’m so sorry. It had to be done. For her sake.”
Chen Xin let an exasperated sigh escape. “We are just as guilty for letting it happen. We’re soldiers, and we understand the need. You may look down on her vanity, but it’s her armor against what she faces every day of her life. Try to empathize. Here she comes now.”
Empathize. All the other women in his life were Moquan. Practical. Like Jie. Who he’d probably never see again. If only she were here now. Tian looked up.
The princess approached, her carriage straight and regal as always, even if her scraggly hair didn’t match the image.
He cringed. He’d done that to her. Already on his knees, he touched his forehead to the ground. “It had to be done, Dian-xia. I will take my life now. If you so command.”
Her tone was icy, biting with a hatred that chilled his bones more than a Northwest winter. “I have already lost Xu Zhan. We will not sacrifice anyone else needlessly. But know that from this day, your life belongs to me, and you will give it when I ask.”
“As you command, Dian-xia.” Tian raised his head, not daring to make eye contact.
The princess took a few steps along the rocks and glanced down at a tidal puddle. Her face was frozen in composed perfection, like an alabaster statue, as she stroked the remnants of her hair back. She then turned to Ma Jun and extended a hand. “Your razor.”
Ma Jun withdrew his razor and held it up to her in both hands with his head bowed. She took it and lopped off what was left of her hair. After shaving five heads already, it had dulled and it did not cut evenly. Every couple of seconds, the princess winced.
It was a ragged job. Ma Jun clasped her hand and took the razor. While he worked at finishing the job, she silently took up a long lock of her hair and started braiding it. She finished quickly and stashed the braid away into the fold of her monk’s robe.
When Ma Jun stepped back and bowed his head, the princess stood and gazed into the river again. She took a deep breath and then let out a long sigh. She didn’t look at any of them.
Tian gritted his teeth. His fault.
On her hoarse and rasping command, they resumed their trek. After two phases of brisk walking in silence, Tian called on the party to halt. In the distance, open farmland gave way to wooded hills, which stretched from the riverbank to as far west as the eye could see and would obscure any approaching threats.
Tian tapped his chin. They could hide off-road behind the trees if they heard armored Altivorcs traipsing through the woods.
As long as they got there quickly. He beckoned the others onward. “Come on. We need to hurry.”
A hundred feet. Fifty. Twenty.
Twenty altivorcs emerged from the trees, resembling spears thrusting out between shields in an Arkothi phalanx. Oh, no.
Tian motioned for the imperial guards to stay calm. They were about to test their disguise.
With the precision of a dwarf-made clock, the altivorcs’ long line merged into a three-man wide column that took up the width of the road. At the head, their leader bared his fangs at them. “Off the road, peasants!”
Tian waved the imperial guards and princess off the road. All bowed their heads as the column passed without further word.
Vindicated! Tian blew out a sigh of relief. He dared a glance at the princess, but her hard expression hadn’t changed.
When the sounds of marching altivorc boots faded in the distance, they resumed their journey, following the road through the woods. Tian scouted ahead, seeing only a couple of travelers and hunters. Before long they emerged on the other side into open farmland.
After a few phases, the clopping of three horses approached from behind, at a walk. Tian turned around.
It was their friends from the South, minus the madaeri. The three soon overtook them and passed.
Tian waved his hands wildly. “Brehane! Sameer! Cyrus!”
Sameer reared his horse and wheeled around. “By the Gods! What happened to you? Where is Xu? Where are your horses?”
“Our horses were poisoned. We were ambushed.” Tian was loathe to tell the whole story.
Brehane’s eyes sought out the princess’, but the princess turned her head and refused to meet the Mystic’s gaze.
“We must keep going,” Cyrus said. “Now that the Cathayi don’t have horses, they’ll only slow us down. A full white moon draws near.”
The rapid pounding of hooves from the south interrupted Tian’s rebuttal. He threaded past the horses to see Fleet coming down the slope in the road, bouncing in the saddle with his horse at full gallop. As the madaeri approached, he waved them off the road. Once he was within earshot, he started yelling. “Altivorcs! Thousands of them marching down the highway!”
Tian scanned the road ahead, but the rising ridge obscured his line of sight.
Yet as if to punctuate Fleet’s warning, deep, ominous drums echoed from beyond. The madaeri pulled up and the clop of his galloping horse quieted. The sound of thousands of heavy boots rhythmically thumped on the hard-packed road.
Another series of drumbeats thundered up ahead, frightening dozens of black
birds out of a tree on the downslope.
“It would be bad for us to be seen together,” Cyrus said, his voice flat and emotionless. “Especially if news from the towns up north has reached that our group—which stands out in this land of the fair-skinned—is traveling with yours.”
Brehane nodded in agreement. “Cyrus is correct. There is no way we can fight thousands of altivorcs, and the plains are too open for us to find cover. We’ll withdraw to the north toward the closest farm and wait for them to pass. Princess, come with us. Fleet, hide and keep an eye on the Cathayi. You may be our only chance to link back up. We will meet at the next town.”
Tian nodded. The princess should be safe with the others. With the altivorcs soon upon them, they could test out their disguise, but without risking her safety.
Chen Xin bowed deeply towards Sameer. “If something should happen to us, I humbly request that you deliver the princess to Cathay after you have completed your duties.”
Sameer pressed his hands together and bowed his head, while Fleet slid out of the saddle. He flashed a grin at Tian and helped the princess up onto his horse with a little too much enthusiasm. Where had he put his dirty paws? The imperial guards glared at the madaeri, but if the princess was offended, she didn’t show it.
They knelt in salute, and she looked at them sadly. “Thank you for your service up to now. I am sure this will not be our final farewell.”
Maybe it would be. And despite all their conflict now, they’d once been best friends. Tian tried to make eye contact with her, but she looked away. The Mystic, Acolyte, Paladin, and princess all turned and galloped north. It would make a great opening to a bad joke, if the consequences weren’t so severe.
Fleet winked at Tian before scrambling down the riverbank and into some shrubs. Even Tian’s sharp eyes couldn’t find him among the brush.
He turned to the remaining four guards. “Continue walking. It will look suspicious. If we just stand here. Waiting for them.”
They continued down the road. The altivorcs reached the crest of the hill and started the gentle descent. They marched in a tight formation, six abreast, shoulder-to-shoulder, taking up the entire road. At their head rode a single mounted officer. Their black flags hung lifelessly on the windless day.
They drew nearer and nearer in neat ranks, trailing each other like a line of ants. When they were about fifty feet away, the mounted altivorc waved them to the side of the road.
Tian and the guards complied, moving to the side closest to the river. They removed their hats and bowed their bald heads. He could see the altivorcs clearly now, with their chainmail, spears, and curved broadswords, looking straight ahead and marching in precision. The leader guided his horse—was it a horse? It was covered head to toe in armor, yet barely made a sound—off the side of the road to meet them, while his troops kept moving forward.
He spoke Arkothi in a thick accent. “You there. Have you seen riders from the southlands, riding large warhorses? Seven total, perhaps with a woman.”
Chen Xin shook his head. “No sir. The highway has been more or less empty for about two hours, with the exception of a small group of your kind who passed by half an hour ago.”
The altivorc officer turned and rode south toward the back of the column. Not long after, drumbeats emanated from that direction. Several seconds later, a series of drumbeats answered, echoing from the north.
They must be communicating with drums. Tian memorized the beat pattern in hopes that he could decipher the code in the future.
Minutes stretched into an hour, and at last the rear ranks passed. At the end of the line, an enormous packhorse, over twice as large as a warhorse and clad from head to hoof in plate armor, took deliberate steps like a dressage show horse. Despite all the metal, it moved quietly, pulling a train of wooden wagons.
The first dozen were no more than cages on wheels, several filled with young Nothori women. With wide, desperate eyes, some reached towards Tian. Others sat listlessly, resigned to their fate.
The first wave of rape victims for the Teleri breeding program. Was there any way to help them? Five men and a madaeri against an army of altivorcs? Maybe trail the column and raid their encampment at night? No; if they weren’t careful, Princess Kaiya would be joining these unfortunate women.
He watched as the last wagon passed, bearing a huge drum, cut from the cross section of a greywood tree. “What was the count?” Tian asked.
“I counted five hundred ranks,” said Chen Xin, “so about three thousand.”
They looked among each other and confirmed the count with nods.
“All right. Let’s keep moving south. The princess will catch up. They’ll go around the altivorcs. On the horses.”
Fleet picked himself out of the brush and rejoined them by the road. “Well, that was fun. Been a long time since I’ve seen one of those beasts.” The madaeri pulled errant twigs out of his hair as they started up the slope in the road.
Once they reached the crest of the hill, Tian and Fleet took advantage of the higher ground to look back to where their companions had fled.
Fleet squinted. “Oh no...”
CHAPTER 30
A Bitter Homecoming
The sounds of heavy boots stomped in rhythm with the pounding in Jie’s head, jolting her awake. A straw mattress pricked her back, further prodding her eyes open.
Feeble rays of sun trickled in through a shuttered round window, barely illuminating a stifling, narrow room. The sharply-pitched ceiling with exposed rafters told her she was in an attic space somewhere. But where? And how?
Through the quickly clearing fog in her head, Jie fought to recall her last memories. She’d been about to slash the renegade Moquan’s throat when an explosion unbalanced her. He’d head-butted her! A dirty trick she could appreciate.
Jie pushed herself up, despite complaints from her listless limbs. The plain brown cloak that was draped over her slipped, revealing her nakedness. She looked down and sighed at her boyish form, made even flatter by weight loss. The cloak found its way back up, covering a bandaged shoulder wound she did not recall wrapping.
She rubbed at her chafed wrists as she wobbled to her feet. Concentrate. This was one of Tian’s hideouts. Above a warehouse near the west marketplace. She let out the breath she’d been holding. One of her comrades must have brought her here. Or...the renegade? That couldn’t be right.
A ceramic cup filled with water beckoned her to a neatly arranged pile of supplies. She greedily quenched her thirst with the tepid water while examining the items. A hunk of cornbread. A single-edged knife. Brown woolen clothes, suited for a peasant. A knitted wool hat with flaps that would cover her pointed ears. Her black utility suit, its tears well-stitched. Most importantly, her magic pouch. She picked it up, revealing a sheet of crinkled parchment underneath. Hua words were written with a quill in an unrecognizable hand.
Iksuvius occupied. Citywide curfew at sundown. Hua embassy gutted. Blend in with the locals. Don’t do anything stupid.
A Friend.
When did she ever do anything stupid? That was Tian’s job, especially when Princess Kaiya was involved. Maybe he was back in the city, looking for her. Her heart swelled.
Chewing on the cornbread, Jie teetered to the window and pried the shutters open a crack. The marketplace below, typically buzzing in the late afternoon with the chatter of young women and the laughing of children, was quiet. Shopkeepers edged back into their stores as a patrol of Bovyans marched through. Though it’d taken her some time to get used to the stink of the marketplace, she’d always appreciated the overall liveliness. Now it was just filthy.
The brittle light would soon give way to night, and darkness would allow her to venture out. In the meantime, she ate, rehydrated, and stretched out her muscles. The pounding in her head felt less like a hammer on a dwarf anvil now, and more like a dull ache. She looked at the letter again. Now why would a Moquan brother use a quill and parchment?
Dusk came. Dressed again in
her black clothes, Jie ventured out, drinking in the cool night air. The white moon Renyue’s waning gibbous marked two days since the attack on the embassy. Tian had to be back by now.
In the marketplace, doors were barred and windows shuttered. It was so quiet she could hear the waves in the harbor lapping up against the seawall. The silence also allowed her to hear patrols well before they came close, and she slunk unmolested through the shadows towards the embassy.
The damage was obvious even from a distance. The main residence and temple, which had once vaulted gracefully above the walls, were now nothing more than burnt-out shells.
A hollow sensation settled in her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. The embassy had been home for only a month, but it had been an enjoyable month, which almost culminated in a kiss.
A pair of Bovyans stood guard just inside the gates, ready to ambush anyone who tried to enter. Jie almost pitied their lack of stealth. She crept along the walls to the east side, where the bathhouse courtyard—if it was still there—would conceal her insertion.
The wall felt cool beneath her hands as her fingers found nooks between the stones. In short order, she made it to the top and peeked over. All clear. Creeping between the crenellations, she dropped down onto the walk. The vantage point afforded a wide view of the damage.
Where the armory had stood, there was now nothing but a dark splotch in her elf vision. The debris radiated out from the blast site, with blackened stones lying in a clearly-defined circle starting a dozen feet from the epicenter. Fire had claimed the warehouses, leaving only roofless, charred shells of stone. The main residence itself fared no better—flames must have consumed the wooden beams, leaving only the stone façade and western walls intact.
This place was where she had reconnected with Tian and almost fulfilled a decade of unrequited affection. Now rubble was all that remained. Jie swallowed the nostalgia and returned to her task of information gathering. There were the two sentries to interrogate.