by Peter David
Remarkably, at the time that made a twisted kind of sense. At least, I thought it did. This is further proof that people will say or do virtually anything to justify their own actions.
So it was that, very very early, several hours before the rising of the sun, I stepped out onto the deserted street. There was still a steady mist of rain coming in, and I kept my cloak tightly over me. There was a faint but steady wind from the south, the direction of the fish market, carrying with it a distinctly scaly aroma.
Then all I had to do was whistle. I knew how to whistle: I put my lips together and blew. The note was long and sustained and quite sharp. It carried high and far over the rooftops of Taikyo. I held it for as long as I could, stopped, drew in a deep breath, and did it again. Then one more time for good measure.
After that, I just stood there. I felt no need to keep whistling. Instead I waited. And waited.
At one point, the proprietor of the inn stuck his head out and gave me a very curious look. He had still not seen my face clearly, since I’d been careful to keep my hood up. He probably thought I was a loon. That was perfectly acceptable to me. As long as he didn’t think I was a fugitive from the stained honor of the Imperior, we’d get along just perfectly.
He ducked back in without questioning why I was out there in such unfortunate weather, which was fine with me. I continued to stand there, watching, waiting, looking to the skies, depending on something that I really didn’t fully understand.
Then, far in the distance, I saw a small, dark object, wings flapping smoothly in the air against the night sky. I didn’t want to get too excited too quickly. It could be a large hawk or eagle or some other more traditional avian. But within moments the figure drew closer, and I knew my initial impression had been correct.
Part of the magic that was Mordant was his ability to hear my summoning him from, it seemed, anywhere. Back in Wuin, it didn’t matter where I was. I would just let out with a piercing whistle and, lo and behold, he would show up before long. There were limits, of course. Were I trapped in a cell or somesuch, he wouldn’t simply appear from thin air. He would, at most, show up outside the cell and offer the dubious aid of providing cutting observations over how foolish I was to have gotten myself into this situation in the first place.
But if I was anywhere outside, Mordant would somehow hear me and would come, no matter where he was.
I realized belatedly that it might have been a good idea to test the limits of that responsiveness when I’d been floating on a piece of wood in the middle of bloody nowhere. But it hadn’t occurred to me. Besides, Mordant didn’t just magically appear from one place to the next. Presuming he could have broken off from whatever he was doing to see why I was summoning him, it might have taken him days, even weeks, to fly the distance separating us. By that point I would have been fish food, so ultimately it didn’t make any difference.
As he drew closer, I could hear the slightest flapping noise from his wings. I wound the trailing end of my cloak around my forearm several times to provide a cushion, and I extended my arm as he neared, providing him a perch. Making his final approach, he ceased his flapping and glided the rest of the way, nestling gently down upon my arm. I tried not to wince as his claws dug into my skin and was only partly successful.
“So,” he said without preamble, “quite a situation you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“You’ve heard?”
“It’s all through the palace. The Imperior is incensed with you, and instead of doing the Imperior the courtesy of ending your life, you instead killed the leader of the Hamunri, the most formidable warriors in Chinpan. Every Hamunri with the slightest sense of honor—namely, all of them—wants to be the one to make your shoulders lonesome for your head. They’re roaming the countryside looking for you.”
“How flattering,” I said. “What, they’re not scouring the city as well?”
“I think they believe you would never be so stupid as to come here.”
“Well, I try to make it a policy never to be underestimated when it comes to stupidity,” I said sourly.
“Don’t count on it to help you in the long run. They’ll be looking here soon enough. So what do you want? I’ll tell you right now, if you’re looking for an airlift out of here, I don’t think I’m going to be able to carry you.”
“I need help, all right. But not from you.”
He stared at me with his unblinking eyes for a moment. “The princess,” he said with immediate understanding.
“Yes.”
“What makes you think she can help you? If she were a son, perhaps. As it is, her father has little to no regard for her, or haven’t you been paying attention?”
“I assure you, I have,” I said. “Nevertheless, she’s my best shot at trying to salvage this. To begin with, I didn’t kill Go Nogo.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No! Why?” I asked in annoyance. “Did you think I did?”
“Well, he was stabbed in the back,” Mordant said reasonably. “That certainly sounded like your style.”
I was about to issue a scathing retort until I realized that, yes, that more or less did sound like my style. “Be that as it may, I was not responsible,” I said. “But I know who was.”
“Really? Who?”
“A member of the Anaïs Ninjas.”
Mordant cocked his head slightly and looked at me askance.
“Really. That might well be of interest to the Imperior.”
“That, along with the fact that I was subsequently approached by the Forked Tong. They want me to join them. If the Imperior has any interest in burrowing into the organization and destroying them from within, the opportunity may well have presented itself. Provided the Imperior’s people don’t kill that opportunity before it has the chance to benefit them.”
“For ‘the opportunity,’ read ‘Apropos.’ “
“That,” I nodded, “is the way of it.”
“And you believe that somehow the princess can fix all this.”
“Yes. I need to meet with her.”
“Meet with her?”
He paused, and it might have been my imagination, but he sounded suspicious.
“Yes. Meet with her.”
“Why? I can relay whatever you want to say…”
“But you cannot guarantee that she will believe it,” I told him.
“For me to truly convince her of the truth of what I’m saying, I need to be able to look her in the eyes. To tell her with my own voice and convince her to aid me. Plus she may have questions, and time is far too much of the essence. While you are busy flying back and forth, some of the Imperior’s soldiers may find me and make short work of me.”
“She may not come.”
“She’ll come,” I said with conviction, hoping that conviction was not misplaced. “I’m certain of it.”
For the longest few moments of my life, Mordant pondered what I was saying. If he refused to cooperate, or smelled some sort of trap, then I was effectively buggered. The odds of my gaining entrance to the palace were negligible. On the off chance I was able to get in, I likely would not get out in one piece.
But if I did not produce the princess, the Forked Tong would put me at the top of their list for swift and sure execution. Furthermore, I would have disappointed the lovely Veruh Wang Ho, which really shouldn’t have factored in, yet did.
“All right,” Mordant said, startling me from my brief reverie.
“Are you staying within this place?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go anywhere.”
Beneath my hood, I couldn’t help but smile a humorless smile. “I can assure you there is very little likelihood of that.”
With that, Mordant bounced off my arm like a diver bounding into a lake. He ricocheted skyward, bouncing off buildings to gain altitude, and moments later was angling away into the sky.
There was nothing for me to do but wait.
I returned to my room, taking care not to make any s
ort of eye contact with the innkeeper. He simply bowed slightly upon passing me. Very likely he gave me no further thought, having things of far more importance on his mind than the activities of some sleepless guest. Still, I was nervous enough about my situation to spend the entire morning in my room wondering if, at any moment, soldiers were going to come crashing in. Call me a fool, but somehow I didn’t think the wafer-thin walls were going to afford much in the way of protection.
One would have thought that every hour that passed would have made me feel more and more secure that I had not been somehow betrayed by Mitsu, or even the innkeeper. Instead all I did was get increasingly nervous, figuring that since the attack had not come yet, it would probably come soon.
By noon the innkeeper, from outside my door, was politely asking me if I wanted anything for lunch. I muttered as gracious a refusal as I could manage, considering my stomach was one large knot. The more time passed, the more I dwelt on all sorts of possible outcomes, and none of them—not a single damned one—was a good one.
So I hardly think it should come as a surprise when the sound of footsteps at my door and a gentle rap were enough to have me let out an embarrassingly high-pitched scream.
The puzzled voice of Mitsu came from the other side. It was definitely her. I could see her shadow. There was no one with her. “Apropos?” she called softly.
I sighed heavily and tried to slow the pounding of my heart. Feeling it unwise to call out her name, I just said softly, “Yes.”
“If this is a bad time…”
“No, no,” I assured her.
“I just… I thought you had a woman in there with you.”
I bit my lower lip in chagrin, but then had to allow a soft, self-contemptuous laugh. “No. No woman. Just me doing my best impression of a woman.”
“Oh.” Obviously she had no idea why I would do that. I could see her shrug. “Well, it’s… it’s very effective.”
“Thanks.”
“Shall I come in there?”
“No. No, that’s… quite all right.” I got to my feet, grabbed my staff, and slid open the door.
She was once again dressed in a manner similar to a boy. If I hadn’t known it was her, I would have thought her a him. I shook my head in wonderment. Even though I knew her gender, I never would have been able to tell. “I see you’re wearing your traveling clothes.”
Mitsu bowed slightly. “I’d be a bit conspicuous if I endeavored to depart looking the way you’ve seen me back at the palace.”
“You mean naked?”
She laughed in that light voice of hers. “That too, I suppose.”
I looked into her face and the guilt I felt was almost overwhelming. It took genuine mental force to get my legs to move, since I knew I was leading her to betrayal and capture. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Out of here for the time being. Who knows who’s listening in.”
She nodded and we headed out.
As we walked into the street, thoughts continued to tumble through my head. Would she hate me? The notion that she would come to hate me over this betrayal was remarkably painful. I couldn’t blame her if she did, though. Why wouldn’t she? Who in the world doesn’t hate someone who betrays their trust? Then again, I’d had my own trust betrayed so many times that I’d become used to it. Maybe I’d just forgotten how much it hurt.
I was so self-involved that I didn’t realize she was talking to me at first.
“Pardon?” I asked.
She made a slightly impatient whistling noise. “I was saying that you could have thanked me for dropping everything, sneaking out of the palace—”
“Of course, of course. I’m sorry.”
We were strolling along the riverbank. The bridge was not far away at all. It seemed more than just a man-made structure. It was a metaphorical bridge, daring me to cross it and, in doing so, cross over into depths of betrayal I once would never have thought possible.
“Mordant says you claim you did not kill Go Nogo,” she said. The amusement had vanished from her voice. She was all business now. This was a princess faced with a supplicant who desperately needed her aid and mercy.
“That’s right, I didn’t,” I assured her. “I had nothing to do with that, or with the drugging of the tea which rendered all the men unconscious.”
“Drugging of the—” She sounded amused. “Is that how you got away from my father?”
“Well… yes.” I was suddenly suspicious. “Why? What had you heard?
“As the story has grown in the retelling, you were described as a fiercely demented warrior who hacked and slashed his way out past some of the best soldiers Chinpan has to offer.”
I should have laughed, I suppose. But I was so used to the almost routine nonsense that passed for human interaction that all I could do was be mildly amused. “Would that it were so,” I assured her. “No, I tiptoed quietly around them while they were lying insensate.”
“And who,” she inquired, “had drugged them?”
One of my rules of thumb when engaged in a series of lies was to keep matters simple. If one couldn’t come up with a fabrication that would sound convincing, nothing was as easy to put across as ignorance. “I do not know,” I said.
“And why would they have administered this drug? To what end?”
“Again, I don’t know.”
“If it was an enemy intent on performing mischief, why didn’t they commit it while my father and his people lay helpless?”
“Perhaps we are dealing with a disordered mind. We can ponder it from now until the end of existence and still find no comprehensible reason for any of the actions taken.”
“That is very true,” she said, much to my relief.
We were drawing nearer and nearer to the bridge. I wanted to shout a warning, to keep walking, to do anything except what I was doing. And yet I kept us moving forward. The day remained overcast, although the rain had stopped falling.
I looked around and tried to figure out where the eyes of the Forked Tong were. Thanks to the weather, shadows seemed to crawl everywhere through the crowded buildings. At any moment, someone could come leaping out and grab Mitsu from my side.
“So what would you have me do now?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Interesting, the position you find yourself in.”
I laughed coarsely. “I wouldn’t exactly call this fiasco ‘interesting.’ “
“Oh, I would.”
We were at the edge of the bridge. All I had to do was walk along and, presuming she followed, we would be at the midpoint within moments. At that point, I would have fulfilled my end of the bargain.
She saw my hesitation, and glanced at the bridge. “Do you wish to walk over to the fish market? I’d think you’d want to go nowhere near the place, considering the difficulties we’ve encountered there before.”
One of the greatest strengths, the most consistent certainties in my life was that I was a superb liar. It had never presented a difficulty for me. Yet I sounded incredibly unconvincing to myself as I said, “What an opportunity, then, to explore it without people trying to kill us.”
She’ll never fall for that. Ever.
“By all means,” said Mitsu.
I gulped deeply as we set foot on the bridge. I wanted to scream Run! Run now! Run quickly and as far as you can! Leave me to my miserable fate! And I did scream it. Screamed it so loud within my head that my brain was aching. Insane as it sounds, I was hoping that the shouting from within my skull would be heard by her. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.
As we started across the bridge of no return, Mitsu said, “Remember, Apropos, when I willingly sacrificed my handmaiden in order to satisfy my father’s sense of honor?”
“Of course I do.”
“And you condemned me for it. Even when I explained it to you, you still never truly accepted it or appreciated my point of view.”
“I appreciated it as best I could. I apologize if it was insufficient
for you.”
She looked at me thoughtfully. I tried to keep my gaze from wandering. My steps felt even more leaden than they usually did, my right leg so heavy I thought it was going to drag me right off the bridge, despite the high handrails. “What if I told you there was a way out of our current predicament?”
“What sort of way out?”
“Well, let us say that I am able to convince my father of the truth of your story. That you were not responsible for the death of Go Nogo. Unfortunately it will do nothing to erase the stain of failure attached to your design for his other home. That mark still remains, and the scale would have to be balanced.”
“Then… what would happen?”
“A life would have to be sacrificed. Fortunately, that could be solved without the loss of yours. All you need do is select a personal servant to lay down his or her life in order to redeem your honor. Then all will be well.”
“But… but I didn’t have any personal servants…”
“Have you forgotten?”
I stopped walking. We were about thirty feet shy of the middle of the bridge. “Forgotten…?”
“Timtup?”
Believe it or not, I blanked on the name at first. But then I remembered. “The… the bathing maiden…”
“Yes. You had sex with her. She may not have been exclusively your servant, but being intimate with a palace servant would certainly qualify as ‘personal’ in matters of honor.”
“Yes, I did have sex with her,” I said, thinking fast. “But… but it wasn’t really personal. It was… truthfully… it wasn’t anything. It was… a diversion. A way to pass the time.”
“Ahhh,” she said. “I thought as much. You wanted… something else?”
That was absolutely true, yes. I wanted passion, depth of emotion. The bathing maiden had been efficient, interested in pleasuring me… but beyond that, there had been no connection. And I was finding that I wanted, needed that connection. Otherwise all it did was reinforce the emptiness within me.
In short, I wanted the intensity of feeling that I hadn’t even known I was missing… until I had encountered Veruh Wang Ho.