by Jeannie Lin
A bold design had been inked on to his skin just over his left shoulder blade. She detected the curved body of a dragon. Sleek bands of muscle glided beneath it as he moved. A mark of thieves and assassins. She had seen such marks in the dens of Luoyang and had been warned about the men who bore them.
He faced her. The look between them acknowledged what she had seen. What he had wanted her to see. He paused over the orb lantern, waiting. When she said nothing, he extinguished the flame inside.
Chapter Twelve
Shibao, Tibet—AD 745
14 years earlier
Li Tao plunged his sword into the Tibetan soldier’s chest and pulled it out with the next motion. Even surrounded by death, his hands did not shake. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the moment the August Emperor was thrown from his horse.
His focus narrowed in on the dragon insignia of the Emperor’s breastplate. This was his time. Grand General Shen and his sons had taken to separate quarters of the battlefield.
The Emperor fought on foot with the confusion of the battle around him. With sword in hand, he struck at an enemy soldier, then scanned the field around him. Li Tao’s task was clear: the Emperor had to die, struck down in battle by all appearances, a casualty of the war he waged.
Li Tao gripped his sword in one hand and reached for his knife with the other. He was close. Within paces of striking distance. The Emperor’s gaze fixed on to him in recognition. He would deliver his death blow face to face. A warrior, a leader of men who fought alongside his men deserved more than a knife in the back.
All that was left to do was deliver the blow. At that moment, the Emperor’s eyes widened. He called a warning as his focus fixed on a point just beyond Li Tao’s shoulder. The Emperor lunged forwards as Li Tao turned to address the new threat.
The Emperor cut down the first attacker, but the second got through. Tibetan steel plunged into him and he doubled over with the impact.
Before he could think, Li Tao buried his blade in the enemy soldier’s throat. His hands were not his own.
The Emperor fell, clutching his wound, and Li Tao whirled to face the next attack. All he remembered from that point on was the dull, tight exhaustion of his shoulders from swinging his sword as the Son of Heaven lay bleeding into the earth behind him. All other thought had been swallowed into the cold pit of shame in his stomach.
759 AD—Present day
Lady Ling glided along the bookshelves, trailing a careless finger over the spines. Every move was meant for him and he knew it. He thought of their nights and those endless hours, the sweet clench of her flesh around him, the perfume of her hair on his pillow. He set down his ink brush to savour the memories. Their nights proved that her sorcery over him was in no danger of fading.
‘Sun Tzu, Tai Gung… War and flowery metaphors for war.’ She cast out the exalted names with an air of dismissiveness as she slid the books out and back into the shelves. Suyin had a way of moving about a space as if she owned it and owned him as well. The insinuation alone excited him, even if it was an act.
‘You know the military texts,’ he noted.
‘I was favoured concubine to the warrior Emperor,’ she replied, slanting a glance at him over her shoulder.
‘In name only.’
He thought he caught the satisfied curve of her lips as she turned back to his books. The extent of his possessiveness surprised him. Li Ming was in his grave and had gone there without ever enjoying the gifts of his infamous mistress.
‘There is an interesting story about General Sun Tzu.’ Still not finding anything she liked, she moved on. ‘General Sun was challenged by the King of Wu to make an army out of his harem of concubines.’
Her voice flowed over him like soothing fingers. He found himself relaxing into her presence. His armies were in a holding pattern after all until he received more reports about Gao.
‘He divided them into two companies, appointing the two favourite concubines as the commanders, but when he tried to instruct them, the girls merely giggled. He warned them that if the soldiers did not understand their assignments, it was the fault of the leaders.’
‘The poor general. I know from experience even one imperial concubine can be a challenge.’
‘Scoundrel.’ She didn’t even face him to fling the accusation.
‘Go on,’ he said, entertained.
Apparently she deemed the rest of the books uninteresting as well. She turned to him to finish her tale.
‘When the harem continued to be uncooperative, Sun Tzu promptly executed the two favourites in front of the others. The king protested in anger, but the general replied, “When a general receives his orders, it is his duty to carry them out to perfection, even if the king protests.”’
‘And of course, the remaining women executed their tasks like trained soldiers,’ he finished. ‘I would not have been so exacting in my punishment.’
‘Because they were defenceless women?’
‘Because war is war and a general should know the difference.’
He looked up expectantly as she reached the end of the bookshelf. At the edge of the sealed cabinet, she seemed to lose interest and wandered back to where he was seated.
‘Your tea is getting cold.’ She lifted the teapot, her sleeve pulled back gracefully, balancing a finger over the lid to steady it. ‘Do you know that there is an art to doing this? In Luoyang, rich noblemen would pay to sit and have tea poured for them.’
His fingers brushed momentarily against hers as he took the cup from her. The touch should have been insignificant after all they’d done together, but the sensuality of it was undeniable.
‘Sit with me.’
Rather than indulging his request, she slipped behind him and placed her hands over his shoulders, kneading her thumbs against the tight bands of muscle. He turned his head to one side, then the other, the sinew giving with a slight crack. Following the line of his shoulder blades, she worked his back in slow circles until the muscles begrudgingly relaxed.
He let his head fall back until he could see her. The vulnerability of the position sank in—neck exposed while she stood over him. He swallowed past the knot in his throat, forcing himself to remain still while she cradled his face in her hands.
‘You said a woman gave you this.’ Gingerly, she ran her thumb along the scar slashing across his cheek.
His gaze flickered up to her. ‘The woman I was supposed to marry.’
‘Now, Governor,’ she purred. Her hands lowered once more to perch on his shoulders. ‘This story has become even more fascinating. Was she pretty?’
‘Everyone in the empire knows this by now.’ He straightened and her hands slipped from him. ‘Shen and I have never been of the same mind. The August Emperor thought marriage to his daughter would repair the rift between us. I believed for a moment that the past could truly be forgotten. That I could raise sons, have a legacy.’
She reached for him again after a pause. Tentatively, she worked her fingers at the base of his neck.
‘Honour was everything to Shen Ai Li,’ he went on absently.
Suyin’s hands paused. ‘Ai Li?’
‘She wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Our marriage would have been a disaster.’
His betrothed had escaped from him and he’d hunted her to the very edge of the empire, defying several imperial sanctions in the process. But she hadn’t been one of the corrupt ministers he was famous for tracking down. Ai Li was a wilful, rebellious girl who saw him for what he was. A rogue who was loyal to no one.
‘The wedding was one final chance to reconcile with Shen.’
‘Surely there are other ways to make peace with Emperor Shen.’
Suyin ran her fingers through his hair, her nails soothing against his scalp. He let his eyes fall closed and willed himself to relax.
‘Shen never trusted me,’ he said. ‘Even before he was Emperor.’
‘He needs allies like you. Especially while men like Gao continue to draw air.’
His breathing slowed as she stroked his neck, her fingertips cool against his skin. Was this merely the clever tongue of an accomplished courtesan? Or did she truly believe it?
‘The princess accused me of being responsible for the death of her brother, Shen’s fourth son. Another reason for the rift between us.’
‘Were you?’ she asked.
‘Was I…?’
‘Were you responsible for his son’s death?’
The tension returned, coiling tight and refusing to let go. Suyin halted her skilful ministrations. He took hold of her hands and she grew still behind him.
‘You do know how to charm a man out of his deepest secrets, Lady Ling.’
He turned to watch her reaction. She stood looking down upon him, her hand resting on him.
She refused to be redirected. ‘Did you do it?’
He’d been called to answer this question before. ‘There’s no benefit to having the Emperor’s fourth son killed. If I truly wanted to attack Shen, I would have targeted the elder ones who hold more significant power.’
‘Benefit?’ She dug her nails into his shoulders in agitation.
‘No, I didn’t do it,’ he growled. ‘And Shen knows I didn’t.’
‘Then how can Gao use this against you?’
‘Because Shen still has his doubts.’ The corner of his mouth lifted in a grim smile. ‘Wouldn’t you, with my reputation?’
His grip tightened on her wrists and her pulse jumped. He had been the August Emperor’s enforcer and he was brutally efficient at it.
She wet her lips. ‘It seems neither of us can escape such notoriety.’
‘I tried to send you away, for your sake and for mine, but I couldn’t.’
He directed her to the chair beside him. They were face to face now, on even ground. He held on to her, extending her arm across the corner of the desk to clasp her hand. She stiffened in his grasp, but didn’t pull away.
‘Perhaps I was tired of being cautious.’ His gaze travelled her face: the elegant cheekbones, her sensual mouth, and always, always those eyes that would not let him go.
‘It occurred to me that if you were sent here to gain my trust, then you’ve been remarkably successful.’
Her expression remained controlled, belied by only a minute tightening of her mouth. ‘I told you no one sent me.’
Her eyes lit up whenever she was challenged. Whatever the mood, whatever her expression, she was exquisite, so beautiful he had to force his gaze away. He could see why the August Emperor would choose her for his deception. A man could easily become obsessed with her and forsake all others.
‘I told myself that you might very well cut my throat in my sleep.’
She flinched at his words, but he held her fast.
‘If you did, I would deserve it,’ he continued. ‘I’d consider it a testimony to your talents. You have me convinced in every way. And if I’m wrong, I can’t say that I regret our nights together. This life might be worth it.’
He was being deliberately cruel. When they lay together, he surrendered himself to her for a mindless, staggering moment with every joining, and he accepted it. But he didn’t like what she did to him when she looked at him in the glare of daylight, with that unbearable sadness in her eyes. She weakened him when he couldn’t risk any weakness.
She didn’t recoil as he expected. She leaned towards him, gripping his hand fervently in both of hers. ‘Tao, it doesn’t have to end in bloodshed. Shen isn’t your enemy. You wouldn’t send me to him if he was.’
‘Shen and I have a respect for one another, despite our differences,’ he said slowly.
‘Then negotiate a peace with him. Is it so hard to recognise his authority? He wants what you want, for the empire to endure.’
‘We’ve moved beyond that point, Lady Ling. The armies are moving closer to the river by the day.’
‘So go directly to the Emperor. You must do it before his soldiers reach your borders. Don’t let this be decided by imperial subordinates and that demon Gao.’ Her pretty eyes held on to him, shining with a new fierceness. ‘Shen will listen to you.’
‘What makes you so certain?’ he asked with dark amusement.
She let out a calming breath. ‘He owes you a debt. Emperor Shen promised you his daughter. He’ll feel the need to make amends. You know I’m right.’
He had to admire Suyin’s perceptiveness, but her plan was madness. The days of strategy and planning were stealing away his strength. In the night, he lost himself to her softness and warmth whenever he could. Sleep was a distant memory. ‘Governor Li?’
So she had reverted back to his formal title after her impassioned plea.
He folded his hands calmly in front of him, fingers knitted together. ‘I wish that what you propose was possible. But Emperor Shen is not strong enough to hold the empire together. We must all fend for ourselves and protect the borders for as long as we’re able. This has all been happening for a long time.’
She stared at the dragon signet on his finger. ‘But you served the August Emperor without fail. You and Shen both. Loyalty must mean something to you.’
‘Loyalty means nothing to me, though it is very touching how passionately you’ve defended me.’
His patronising tone angered her and he could sense her desperation building, a distant echo of his own fears.
‘You won’t consider another alternative. Not even to save yourself,’ she said, every word steeped in bitterness.
‘If the Emperor and Gao don’t come for me, someone else will some day.’
Her gaze darted to the cabinet against the wall before quickly shifting back. He knew that she had seen the collection of daggers. He had suspected when she avoided it in her explorations.
‘Those are a constant reminder of my failure,’ he explained. ‘Another reason you can’t stay with me.’
‘What failure?’
‘To kill Li Ming.’
She jerked to her feet. The corner of the desk jarred against her hip as she staggered backwards.
‘You are standing very far away, Lady Ling,’ he said mildly.
‘But you were part of his inner circle. You have had plenty of opportunity to kill the Emperor,’ she said.
‘If I had wanted to take his life, I could have. I’m a traitor to all sides.’
He pushed his chair back and stood, approaching slowly. He stopped just short of touching her. ‘You see? All my secrets at your feet.’
She had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. ‘The mark on your back—’
‘The mark of the An Ying clan.’
The Shadows. He made no effort to hide the symbol inked on to his skin when they lay together. She never asked about it, but he knew she had a vague idea of what it meant, how it branded him for life. Every year, Lao Sou sent him a gift to remind him of his betrayal. The old man would never forget, would never let him rest.
‘I’ve never heard of it,’ she said.
‘You wouldn’t have.’
His voice lowered until the tone was nearly intimate. ‘I want you to know everything, so you will stop with this talk of duty and loyalty and the glory of the empire.’
‘Do you—?’ Her bottom lip trembled as she started to form the question. ‘Do you still belong to them?’
‘No, but no one can leave such an organization. Not without repercussions.’
Her breath came shallowly as she peered at him, eyes wide with fear and doubt. Yet still, she stayed. Her hands were clasped before her. He’d say her stance was demure, if he didn’t know her so well. He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her there was nothing to be afraid of at the moment. Not from him.
There would always be unspoken secrets between them. It was something they silently accepted, but he wanted her to know so she could come to him without any illusions.
He lifted his fingers to stroke her cheek, but let his hand drop before touching her. ‘Now you understand why there is no need to try to save me, Lady Ling. Death will come one way
or another. This will never end.’
Chapter Thirteen
The faint glow of daybreak seeped through the windows as Suyin rolled on to her side beneath the quilt. Li Tao’s back was turned to her. The edge of the blanket had fallen, baring the coiled dragon on his shoulder blade. Last night, she had awoken to the familiar shift of his weight beside her. He’d managed only to undress before collapsing on to the bed, asleep before he laid his head upon the pillow.
The last days had been torture. Li Tao had disappeared for a week and, hour after hour, she’d been left to imagine the worst. He would be carried home with a dagger in his heart or he would never be found. She would never see him again.
The month was nearly spent and she hadn’t been able to convince Li Tao to negotiate. He had no reason to listen to her counsel, the advice of a woman he was using for his pleasure. Was that all she was? A last glimpse of beauty and warmth?
That was why he had asked only for a month. He was prepared to lay down everything in the impending confrontation. Li Tao was heading to his death and all she could do was watch the moon grow rounder with each passing night.
She curled close, careful not to wake him. The dragon rippled with the rise and fall of his breathing. Many paintings showed the pearl in the dragon’s grasp, but here the dragon chased the orb, stretching out curved talons to capture its power. The markings and their hidden meaning frightened her.
Li Tao killed, not only in war or to defeat his enemies, but simply because he had been ordered, or paid. He had done so without regret, but hadn’t she done worse?
With a low murmur, he shifted on to his back and his hand came to rest against her pillow. She traced the vertical line of his palm with her fingertip, unable to hold back any longer. Once he rose, it could be days before he returned. Some mornings she would awaken to find him already gone. The emptiness would linger within her for the entire day. This call of yin to yang went beyond any reason. But he was here now, restful and still enough for her to touch.
‘What are you doing?’ His eyes remained closed and his voice sounded far away, drugged with sleep.
