by Ryan Kirk
“Gladly.”
7
Bai woke up warm and content. The air smelled fresh and sweet, filled with the scent of pine trees in spring. The contentment lasted only a moment before her body was wracked with a coughing fit that bent her in half. Her stomach hurt when she coughed, and her memory returned to her, splashing over her like familiar buckets of cold water.
She remembered being imprisoned within the town’s cells, being beaten and threatened by Wen. For a second, panic pressed against her chest, challenging her breath, but it passed as she bolted upright and took in her surroundings.
Bai wasn’t in the cells anymore. Instead of tight walls, she now had endless space. Tall evergreens surrounded her, and the sounds of birds chirping settled her fears. She had been rescued.
An old, dented metal cup was held out toward her. Steam curled around the edges, and Bai reached for it gratefully.
“Careful, it’s warm.”
Bai paused for a second, then grabbed the cup by its lip. Gingerly, she pressed one of her hands against the bottom of the cup, feeling the warmth of it seep into her hand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever welcomed a sensation so eagerly. She wrapped both her hands around the worn metal and brought it close to her chest, as though the cup could warm her entire body. She took a sip, the tea grassy and fragrant. “Thank you.”
The woman next to her nodded. Her name returned to Bai.
Hien.
Bai had never met a woman like Hien. She wasn’t certain very many people had.
From a glance, Hien looked middle-aged. Bai guessed the woman was a little older than her mother, somewhere above forty. But though some of her hairs were beginning to turn silver with age, Bai recognized a predator when she saw one.
Perhaps it was her own history of avoiding confrontation, but she’d developed a sense for people predisposed to violence. It was something in the way their eyes studied the world, the way they held themselves. There were people who weren’t afraid to exert their will upon others, with force if necessary.
Most often, those people were richer men. Bai had come across plenty of those, even in her small town. They believed, perhaps rightly, that their money gave them authority. Bai knew to bow meekly and escape their notice as soon as possible.
Hien had something of the same look, but had something more, too. From the way she moved, like a wraith in the night, to the basic fact that she had rescued Bai from a prison with the same attitude that she prepared tea. She radiated strength, and Bai had never met a woman like her.
She’d also never met a woman who carried so many weapons. Back in town, a few of the girls she knew carried small daggers, more as a threat than anything else. Most of them would have dropped the blades at the first sign of trouble. But Hien carried enough steel to supply Kulat’s entire city watch. As Bai sipped at her tea, the older woman pulled blade after blade from various hiding places, examining them in what appeared to be a daily routine. Most went back into their hidden sheathes, the motion so smooth Bai almost couldn’t follow. Some kissed a whetstone before being returned.
Hien held the blades like mothers held newborn babies. Bai could think of a child or two that received less attention than Hien’s steel.
Hien noticed Bai’s gaze, focused on the blades as they flashed in and out of the late morning sunlight. “Want one?”
Bai shook her head. Her mother had despised weapons, saying they gave people a sense of power they didn’t deserve. Bai figured if she held the daggers she was more of a danger to herself than to anyone else.
Hien shrugged and returned to her routine.
Lost in her own thoughts, Bai remembered the escape from the evening before. Hien had taken her from the cells, and they’d passed the inert form of the night guard. Had Hien killed the man? Bai couldn’t recall. She hadn’t been paying close enough attention.
Outside of the cells, they had made their way out of town. Hien led the way, always scouting ahead and telling Bai when it was safe to move. Bai couldn’t remember much in the way of details. She had just followed. Eventually they had crossed the outskirts of town and reached a wooded area. Hien made Bai an impromptu bed and Bai had fallen asleep almost instantly.
She realized now how much she had taken on trust. Granted, Hien had helped her escape, but Bai didn’t even have the slightest clue where she currently was, or where they were going.
Another coughing fit passed over her, violent and sudden. Hien looked over at Bai, a concerned expression on her face. “How are you feeling?”
Bai wanted to say she felt fine. The answer was the expected one, after all. But Hien didn’t seem like the type of woman who had much patience for social niceties. “Not well,” Bai admitted.
Hien was silent for a moment, then stood up. “You should get some rest. I was planning on moving this afternoon, but perhaps we can afford to wait a while. I’ll scout the area, maybe try to catch some more food. Until then, you should eat as much of this as you want.” The mysterious woman reached into a large pack Bai was certain she hadn’t been carrying the night before and pulled out dried meat, cold rice, and some assorted vegetables.
Bai stared at the feast, her mouth watering at the sight alone. How long had it been since she had seen so much food in one place? With a start, she realized she didn’t even know what day it was. She’d lost all track of time in the windowless cells.
“I’ll return before too long. Is there anything else you need?”
Bai looked down at the pile of food in front of her. She couldn’t think of anything.
Hien gave her a knowing smile. “Don’t eat too much, too fast. Your stomach won’t be ready for it.”
With that, the enigmatic woman was off, slipping through the spaces between the trees without so much as a sound. Bai wondered briefly where the woman was off to, but quickly lost interest as her gaze fell back to the food arrayed in front of her.
She began with the dried meat, the salted beef alone causing her eyes to water with joy. Despite her desire to gorge on everything in sight, she followed Hien’s advice, chewing slowly and working her way through the food one mouth-watering bite at a time.
She was surprised when she felt full much sooner than she expected. Looking down at the food, it looked as though she’d barely eaten anything at all. Bai found a water skin near the food, sipping the cold liquid with incredible delight.
Her stomach full, Bai felt an overwhelming exhaustion come over her again. She’d only been awake for an hour at most, but she didn’t question the urge. She ducked deeper into her blankets, now warmed by the sun high in the sky, and fell asleep again.
She awoke to a gentle hand on her shoulder. Bai blinked away the sleep from her eyes and saw Hien standing over her.
“Do you think you’re good to walk?” Hien asked.
Bai didn’t want to get out of the warm blankets, but the tone of Hien’s voice told her it was more a request than a question. “I think so.”
“Good. Let’s get the rest of this packed up and we can get moving.”
Bai slid out of the blankets, immediately overcome by longing for the warmth of the covers. It was so cold. Too cold for the season, she thought.
Hien handed her a heavy cloak, which she gratefully accepted.
Bai noticed that the rest of the camp had already been packed. Hien had waited to wake her until they were almost ready to travel. Bai felt grateful. She needed the sleep.
Hien folded and packed away the blankets, then slid the pack onto her back. “Ready?”
Bai suddenly realized she had absolutely no idea what was happening. “Why do we need to leave?”
Hien took off, not answering Bai’s question until they were moving. Bai noticed the subtle manipulation. If they were already moving, Bai would be less inclined to stop. Had Hien answered the question first, Bai might have been unwilling to start.
Regardless, Bai didn’t know what else to do at the moment besides follow, so she did. Once they were away from the campsite, Hien answered her question
. “The villagers are looking for you. I hoped they would search in all directions, giving us some more time. Unfortunately, they’ve guessed our destination, which means they came closer to us faster than I’d hoped. If we hadn’t been so far off the trails, they might have found us. We’ll have a bit of a hike in front of us, I’m afraid.”
Bai took all this in. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, but she knew she didn’t want to go back to the cells. Thoughts of her nights there made her think of the man who’d been standing guard when Hien arrived. “Did you kill the man on night watch?”
“No.”
Bai bit her lip. She wasn’t sure how many more questions Hien would tolerate. Bai also didn’t want to upset her. But she did need at least one more answer.
“Where are we going?”
“Up the mountains.”
Bai walked a few more steps before realizing the import of Hien’s words. That was why she’d been cold. Thoughts tumbled after one another, and a new fear took on sharp edges. Bai stopped in her tracks, not sure she wanted to follow Hien another step.
Hien noticed immediately. The woman’s senses were as honed as her steel. Her look wasn’t angry, exactly, but Bai could only think about just how dangerous this woman was. The words escaped from her before she could stop them. “You’re a rebel.”
Hien frowned, as though she’d been insulted. “I live freely, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
The questions poured out of Bai now. “Why did you come to save me? Why are you taking me up to the mountains? Why is this happening?”
Hien looked past Bai, as though scanning the trees for enemies. Eventually, her posture relaxed a bit and she dropped into a resting squat. Bai knew it was another trick of perspective. By making herself small, she appeared less threatening. Bai knew it was a trick, but it worked. She stepped closer, almost instinctively, to hear what Hien’s answers would be.
The warrior took a deep breath. “I live up in the mountains, with the ‘rebels,’ as you call them. Perhaps we are that, but we live in peace, just outside the rule of the empire. The man who leads us was a monk a very long time ago.”
Hien saw Bai’s reaction and extended a hand in a calming gesture. “He’s not like any monk you’ve ever met. I can promise you that. He felt what happened down in Galan and asked for me to scout the area.”
Bai got the sense that Hien wasn’t telling the full truth, but she let it go for now.
“I reached Galan a few days ago. I saw the damage that was done and heard that they had locked you up because they believed you were involved. There were many stories and rumors, but no facts. Then one night I heard the man named Wen bragging to some of his friends in a tavern about how he was treating you. I decided to break you out.”
“Just because you heard Wen bragging in a tavern?”
Hien looked off into the distance, her gaze unfocused. “You could say I’ve made something of a life out of helping women in difficult situations.”
Bai wasn’t convinced. People simply didn’t act that way.
Hien shrugged, as though she’d experienced exactly the same reaction a dozen times before. “My decision was easy. I believe the man who leads us can help you, no matter what you decide to do.”
Bai considered. “I’m free to leave, if I want?”
Hien looked hurt. “Always. If that’s your choice, you can take the cloak and whatever food and supplies you can carry.” She looked back into the trees they’d come from. “But I would ask that you make your choice quickly. Our pursuit is approaching, and our journey will be difficult if we avoid the well-known trails into the mountains.”
Bai couldn’t see the pursuit Hien was talking about, but she found she trusted the other woman. She even trusted that she could leave if she wanted.
What did she want?
The question was one she hadn’t had to answer often. Her days had always been set by necessity and tradition. Hien would give her the supplies to run wherever she wanted. Bai wasn’t naive enough to believe she could return home now, but the empire was vast.
On the other hand, Hien believed that answers lay in the mountains above. Bai had been raised to fear the rebels who lived there. Given Hien’s particular set of skills, perhaps such fear wasn’t unfounded. But Bai’s curiosity was overwhelming. And it was the easiest path. Hien would protect her and guide her.
“Let’s go,” she said.
8
Delun didn’t take long to decide that Kang was less than ideal as a traveling companion. Kang spoke little, and when he did, his sentences were terse, as though speaking were a chore he had no desire to complete. Delun, who’d been stuck alone in a carriage for almost two weeks, craved company that Kang refused to provide.
Fortunately, with the carriage at their disposal, the trip to Galan only took a day. They rented two rooms at the only inn in town, agreeing to begin their investigation the next day. The prices were too cheap to be believed, and Delun didn’t miss the fear within the innkeeper’s eyes as he passed over their keys.
He thought about sitting down in the common room and listening to local rumors, but seeing the looks that the other patrons gave him when he entered, he decided a more productive route would be to simply get a full night of rest. He’d been able to sleep in the carriage as it carried him overland, but the rest had hardly been pleasant. A night of uninterrupted sleep would do wonders.
He noticed that Kang didn’t seem to pay any particular attention to the sullen stares turned his way. Delun almost asked why, but given the quality of Kang’s responses to earlier questions, Delun decided to hold on to his inquiry. He was used to not being loved thanks to his monastic robes, but this open fear and hostility was a degree worse than his usual welcome.
Delun slept soundly, and the next morning he and Kang made their way to the market square. With the village as small as it was, it wasn’t hard to find. Kang led the way.
Delun tried to keep his expression neutral, but he couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw the devastation in front of him. Kang had told him the square and some of the surrounding area had been destroyed, but this was beyond what Delun had imagined.
Two facts were immediately apparent. A strong monk had done this. As Delun stood on the edge of the circle of destruction and looked around, he imagined how much of his own energy something like this would take. He didn’t like the answer.
Delun kept his eyes on Kang. The man’s expression was also neutral, and Delun had the feeling Kang knew more than he was letting on. He followed the larger man deeper into the devastation.
At first, he’d expected to find damage from multiple attacks. That idea died quickly. All of the buildings had collapsed outward, from a central point that Delun imagined was the market itself. One blast had done this.
He thought of Taio’s warning about the rebels up in the mountains. His abbot had been frightened of the power that resided up there, and Delun now thought he knew why. If one man was capable of this, what were the limits of his strength?
The ruins of the market were empty. Delun expected to see workers clearing the rubble and starting to rebuild, but his expectations were disappointed. Even the untrained knew that the gifted had caused this to happen. The power of the monks, a mystery to most, carried a stigma that took time to overcome.
Delun’s memory went back, too far. He remembered another scene of devastation, another place where it had taken years to rebuild.
Jihan.
There, the buildings he had grown up around were left abandoned, in some cases for months. Whether they acknowledged it or not, people didn’t want to be anywhere near the places where the gifted had fought.
In time, money had changed minds, as it often did. Jihan continued to grow, even after the battle. Property was too valuable to be wasted, and people eventually overcame their initial reluctance. Buildings were repaired, or torn down and rebuilt completely. Eventually, time erased the damages
of the past.
But it had taken substantial time in Jihan, and it might take even longer here. Delun forced himself to the present. Galan was hardly a bustling city. Perhaps this would be the blow that killed the town completely. He could see a future in which one family after another, not wanting to live near the site of the disaster, moved to Kulat.
He sighed. Such problems were not his to worry about. His mission was to find and eliminate the Golden Leaf. If they had anything to do with this disaster, his motivation just became sharper. He wasn’t certain, though. In some ways, black powder could duplicate the strength of a monk, but black powder left unmistakable traces. This hadn’t been staged as a monk’s attack, it had been a monk’s attack. Did the Golden Leaf have monks working for them? The idea unsettled him, almost more than the damage itself did.
He picked his way among the ruins, working toward the epicenter of the blast. The destruction of so many of the buildings had been complete. He had expected to see damage, but not like this. The more he saw, the less certain he was that even he could have done something of this magnitude. He grew more and more sure that he was weaker than whoever had caused this. That thought worried him, chipping away at his confidence. Even if he found the guilty party, would he be able to deliver justice to everyone who had died here?
Delun took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, following the movement of his breath and centering himself. When he opened his eyes, he started taking in the scene as an investigator. He would bring some measure of peace to the victims of this tragedy.
Closer examination revealed more information. The extent and nature of the damage meant that this had been an unfocused attack, a pure explosion of energy in its natural form. Most monks increased their power by focusing it, but unless a new technique had been discovered, Delun didn’t think that was the case here. The strength required to do this without focusing was beyond considerable. Delun shook his head, refusing to follow that train of thought any further.