To Journey in the Year of the Tiger

by H. Leighton Dickson

“I touched him, too. Well, almost.” The Seer continued. “He was real, Captain, as real as you stand here before me now, he was real. And not at all like the images in stone and glyph that are scattered throughout the Kingdom. He was so much like us.”

  “Enough.”

  “He had brown eyes, just like me. It’s not unnatural! I could have sworn—”

  “I said enough!” Kirin turned away, jaw taut, mouth grim. “No more of this talk. The others—”

  “But they should know. This affects them too. Their skills, their—”

  “No. It doesn’t.”

  “Of course it does!” Sireth threw his hands into the air. “How can the Scholar understand if she is not presented with all the facts? How can the Alchemist—”

  “You trust the Alchemist, now do you?”

  “No, but—”

  “And now these ‘facts’. You did not feel obliged to share such ‘facts’ with me back in Sha’Hadin.”

  “I was afraid. Now—”

  “Now I am afraid, sidi. This knowledge is dangerous.”

  “They have a right to know.”

  “They will know what I allow them to know.”

  “And how do you intend on keeping it from them, Captain? There will be many, many nights spent on this journey, and many, many of these strange late-night conversations. Do you intend on keeping them all to yourself?”

  “If I must, yes.”

  “You will not be able to do it.”

  Kirin stepped in close.

  “You would be surprised what I am able to do, sidi.”

  High above them, the shrill cry of a falcon echoed over the roar of the river. The distant fire circle cast long, menacing shadows up the sides of the rock. The wind from the ravine whipped their clothes and hair but the two stood like stone, set against each other by the gods. This knowledge is dangerous, Kirin had said and he believed that. But there was something else, something less noble wrestling inside and try as he might, he simply could not push it from his thoughts.

  He set his jaw.

  “You will not speak of these things again. Do you understand this?”

  The Seer pulled himself to his full height, good eye glittering in the moonlight.

  “Perhaps you would be surprised at what I am able to understand, Captain.”

  And with that, he brushed past the lion, returning to the warmth of the fire, and the company of others.

  Kirin remained outside for some time longer.

  ***

  It had begun again.

  “Okay, okay, tell me again where this Pol’Lhasa place is.”

  Kirin sighed and rubbed his temple. This time, Solomon was insistent, almost aggressive in his conversations, and the Seer’s hands moved with quick, agitated motions.

  “Pol’Lhasa is the palace in the Royal City of DharamShallah, which lies in the heart of the Great Mountains—”

  “Mountains, mountains, which mountains?”

  “The Great ones, Solomon. Those which separate the kingdoms.”

  The Seer was shaking his head.

  Fallon sat forward.

  “It’s in the province of Mepal, if that’s any help.”

  “Sorry, Fallon. I’m just not getting it.”

  Stretched out on the floor, chin in hands, Kerris was barely awake.

  “You speak so strangely.”

  “So do you, my friends. So do you...” Solomon’s voice trailed off and he seemed deep in thought.

  “I’m going to sleep.” The grey lion dropped his head into his arms. “Wake me if you need me.”

  “Wait a minute...”

  “You don’t need me. Really.”

  “What is the name of your palace again?”

  “Pol’Lhasa,” said Kirin.

  “In the province of where?”

  Mepal.”

  The Seer closed his eyes. “In the mountains.”

  “The Great Mountains, yes.”

  “Oh man...”

  “Solomon?”

  “Ohhhh mannn...” He placed a palm over his face. “You’re in Tibet.”

  “Mepal,” corrected the Captain.

  “Acttally,” corrected the Scholar. “DharamShallah used to be in the Province of Hindaya, until 200 years ago.”

  Kerris looked up. “DharamShallah was in Hindaya?”

  “Yep,” she nodded. “It became our capital when we lost the battle of Lha’Lhasa in Shibeth. Then the borders of all the provinces were redrawn and we conceded the new capital to Mepal. That’s why we still squabble over Shibeth.”

  “We didn’t lose the battle!” Ursa’s eyes flashed. “It was a Chi’Chen concession.”

  “See? Still squabbling. So Solomon could be right.”

  “Well done!” Kerris laughed from his bedroll. “Scholar in the Court of the Empress.”

  She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Kirin nodded.

  “So, Solomon, you know the province of Hindaya, then?”

  “Yeah. And the Great Mountains must be the Himalayas. Oh ho ho man. I am so screwed.”

  “He speaks so strangely,” Kerris muttered from the floor but his brother sat forward.

  “You understand, Solomon? Do these words mean something to you?”

  “Yes, Captain. They mean that I’m screwed.”

  “Please, Solomon. Now I don’t understand.”

  The Seer sighed. “Remember where I said I was?”

  “Swisserland.”

  “Right. That’s right. Well, Switzerland and the place you call Mepal are half a world away.”

  “Beyond the edge of the earth.”

  “Something like that. And I have no idea what your roads are like anymore.”

  Kerris groaned. “Until we reach the Wall, the roads are no better than this one, really. Maybe worse.”

  Solomon continued. “Is it too much to hope that you still have cars?”

  “Carts? We have carts but we are on horseback. It is the fastest—”

  It was Solomon’s turn to laugh. It was a strange laugh, big and hearty and lasting far too long, finally ending with a futile wiping away of tears from unseeing eyes. He shook his head.

  “From Nepal to Switzerland. On horseback. Maybe I should call you Marco Polo.”

  There seemed to be a measure of despair in his voice, a measure Kirin was beginning to share.

  “This is a long way?” he asked.

  “Should take, oh, I dunno, a couple of years! But don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sit right here and wait...”

  “Are you alone?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Then we shall hurry.”

  “Okay.” A weary smile spread across the Seer’s face, to be quickly replaced by a frown. “Okay, I’m losing you here. Can you still hear me, Captain?”

  “Yes, Solomon.”

  “Captain? I can’t hear you anymore, Captain. Or think you, or whatever we’re doing. So goodnight all and Godspeed.”

  The Seer’s eyes grew vague, then after a few moments, sharp. Only one focused on the Captain however, and this time, there was no hiding the contempt.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Sireth growled.

  “For tonight.”

  “May I go back to sleep now?”

  “By all means.”

  He disappeared into the recesses of the cavern. Rising to her feet, Ursa shot a glance at her Captain.

  “You should not allow that,” she warned.

  “Goodnight, Major.”

  She too disappeared into the shadows.

  “Dream sweet, all,” mumbled Kerris as he pulled the blanket over his head.

  That left the Alchemist and the Scholar. They were both looking at him. For some reason, he could not meet their eyes.

  ***

  “Kirin!”

  The Captain jogged his stallion up past the river of horses until he was at Quiz’s flank. Kerris looked grim.

  “Bad news, I’m afraid...”

  Kirin followed the pointing grey f
inger across the river. In the bright noonday sun, it was difficult to make out exactly what his brother was pointing at. The sides still sheered off into the Shi’pal below but the river had been progressively widening the further along they journeyed. Wider, slower and flatter she flowed, patches of ice clinging to her sides and sweeping her banks. And yet, as he scanned the high red ridges, he could see nothing to peak Kerris’ interest.

  “What is it, then?”

  “The bridge.”

  “The bridge?” Pulse quickening, he scanned the slopes once again and once again, there was nothing. “I see no bridge.”

  “There you have it. The bad news.”

  His heart fell like a stone. “Are you certain this is the place?”

  “Look down.”

  No more than a man’s width from the road, there was a mound pushing out of the snow. It was a stump, a rotted post with a scrap of twine twisting in the breeze. Across the river, he could see a similar mound. The bridge was gone. Kirin sat back in the saddle, gritting his teeth in frustration.

  “We cannot forge such a river. Is there no other way?”

  Now Kerris sat back, brow furrowed, chewing absent-mindedly on a thumb claw.

  “Well...”

  Kirin waited for several moments. “Well?”

  “Well, if we follow the river another day, the mountains fall away. It is still fast, but in winter the surface does freeze up some. A horse can get across. Well, at least a pony can.”

  “It is not winter,” Kirin growled.

  “Yes, well, that might be a problem.”

  “And we have ten horses, plus a pony.”

  “Many problems.”

  “Another day, you say?”

  “Half-day, if we ride quickly.”

  “Then we shall ride quickly.” He swiveled in his saddle. “The bridge is out! We must make good time to another crossing. Is this understood?”

  There were nods all around and al Massay forged ahead, his powerful legs carrying him easily past the pony. Quiz squealed and scrambled to catch up.

  Behind them both, the Alchemist smiled at the Scholar, her golden eyes mere slits in the sunlight.

  “Perhaps, you could build one of your ‘cat-a-pults’.”

  Fallon blinked several times, glancing up at the sheer walls of the ravine, then back at her companion.

  “No. No. Not really a good idea, not really. I mean, it would work, I could build it but it would take time and materials but one little mistake and splat, cat innards all over the rocks. And the horses. No, no, I don’t think –”

  “It was a joke.”

  “Oh.”

  The black mare loped forward, leaving the tigress craning her neck behind.

  “That, that was funny! Really. That was a really funny… um, joke…”

  The sound of Ursa’s snarl was enough to spur her horse onward and the band picked up the pace toward the second crossing.

  ***

  It was as Kerris had said. As they rode, the Shi’pal widened, her banks growing less steep with each passing hour, ice and snow clinging to her sides like hide on a brittle carcass. She had exchanged her roaring disposition of the previous day for a more temperate one and many forks had left her like so many wandering children. Finally, a stretch of white from side to side, a promise of solid footing. Even so, Kirin found himself shaking his head. The sun had long since disappeared behind the edge of the earth, drawing the skies above them in her nightgown of purple. It would not be long before she hid her face completely, leaving them the impossibility of crossing this river in utter darkness.

  “Well?” said Kerris, blowing warm breath into his palms.

  “This joins the Great Wall?”

  “Just beyond that ridge. It’s actually closer here than at the rope bridge, but the river is far wider, as you can see. You can’t bridge this.”

  The Captain dismounted, moving slowly to the edge of the river, sinking up to his boots into the drifts. There was still much snow in these parts, for while the mountains were less severe than in eastern Mepal, the west lived and breathed winter. It was the way of things.

  He put his hands to his hips.

  “It doesn’t look safe.”

  Kerris grinned. “Neither did the rope bridge.”

  “You first.”

  The grin melted away.

  “Yes. Of course. No problem.”

  Slowly, he slid from his pony, his own yak-hide boots sinking up to the laces. Obediently, Quiz followed his rider, short sturdy legs completely swallowed by the drifts and together, the pair skirted down the steep bank and thudded onto the ice.

  It held. With an audible sigh, Kerris began to cross, stepping carefully at first, but with increased confidence at each footfall. At the mid-point of the river, he paused and threw a wave back to the party watching his progress from the high bank.

  “See! No problem! Strong as the mountains!” And for emphasis, he thumped his boot several times before resuming his trek. Kirin, however, was not cheered by his brother’s claims, for the mountain pony was wire-tight, nostrils flared, ears as straight as a plumbline. Nevertheless, within minutes, they had reached the far bank and had scrambled up to safety on the other side.

  Kerris waved again.

  “Next!”

  A leopard next, and then the Scholar. It was slow going for the Captain made each rider dismount and lead his horse across. The sun was all but gone and eyes were straining in the twilight sky. Kirin had sent the last guard on ahead, leading both his own mount and the last packhorse. The man’s voice carried across the ice, speaking in alternately calm and stern tones. One of the horses was snorting nervously, its hoofs slipping and scraping the surface and Kirin cursed the shadows, for he could see little of what was taking place. Then, a sudden squeal and the sound of a great weight hitting the ice and more curses. Finally, Kerris’ voice echoed across the river.

  “Get on, man! Ride him across!”

  “But the Captain said —”

  “Do as he says!” Kirin boomed and within moments, the last leopard guard had reached the shore.

  That left the Captain. He reached up and stroked the long, proud nose of his stallion, patted the thick arched neck. More dependable than soldiers, more faithful than men.

  “Are you ready, my friend? Of course, you are. Let’s go.”

  With a leading hand on the reins, the pair slid down the snow and onto the ice.

  He could barely make them out on the other side until from out of nowhere, a candle flickered into the darkness and then another. The Alchemist. He could make out her kohl-rimmed eyes, the curling stripe along her nose and cheek, her haunting smile. She was a beacon, calling him to shore and he could not help but come. Step after step in near darkness, great hoofs pounding the ice behind him, he had reached the mid-point of the river when alMassay stopped.

  “No. Come, ‘Massay. We are almost—”

  There was a sound, a low grating sound, a sound of grinding wheels and massive weight, and the ice shifted beneath his boots.

  “Kirin! Run!”

  He needed no command from his brother and immediately threw himself forward. The sound was angry now, snapping away from him like fireworks, squealing like many ponies. alMassay bellowed in confusion, rearing back and yanking the Captain off his feet. Hands and knees took the impact as he came down on the hard surface of the ice, and Kirin felt freezing water splash his face. alMassay was backing up, swinging his great head, reins whipping about his neck. Kirin scrambled to his feet, leaping for the reins and ignoring his brother’s cries from so far away. There was water everywhere, seeping through the cracks, flooding the surface of the ice. Sharp stinging water that bit his tail and hands and face. Finally he caught the leather and pulled. At the very contact the horse lunged forward and forward again, splashing and slipping and suddenly, the ice sheet gave way. alMassay plunged downward and Kirin went with him.

  Kerris was on the move. He had not needed to watch the struggle to know the end
result. Instead, he raced to one of the packhorses and pulled a coil of rope from the supplies. When the Shi’pal opened her great mouth, Kerris was already scrambling down the bank.

  “Ursa! Hold!” Without awaiting her response, he tossed one end of the rope to the Major and continued with the rest onto the river. She did not follow his order, however, and pushed the rope into the Seer’s gloved palm.

  “You. Hold.”

  Likewise, she did not wait for a response before following the grey lion out onto the ice.

  Open water is blacker than night under a starry sky but the pair could make out the silhouette of the Imperial stallion, haunches submerged, chest and forelegs heaving forward, scrabbling for any hold. Kerris had great difficulty, however, picking out his brother from the mass of buckles and wet leather but Kirin was holding fast to the saddle, his own claws failing to make any headway against the slick, sharp ice. The current was strong, his cloak heavy with water, pulling his face under every time he seemed to make progress. The horse’s legs churned the river like iron.

  “Kirin! Here!”

  Crouched low to the ice, his own legs stretched wide, Kerris reached for his brother. The Captain shook his head.

  “N-n-no,” he said, molars unable to stop chattering in the cold, “G-get Massay f-first.”

  “No, you first. Take the rope.”

  “And if-f it was Q-quiz?”

  “Alright. I’m coming around. Pass it under his haunch.”

  Immediately behind him, Ursa was stunned. “What are you doing? Get the Captain!”

  “Major. This time you will listen and you will obey. Hold.”

  His voice was that of his brother’s and she found she could do nothing but obey. And once again, Kerris pushed a section of rope into her hand. She held.

  For in a heartbeat, Kerris had scrambled behind the Imperial horse, swinging wide so as to miss any open water. He called out over the sinking back.

  “Kirin? Got it?”

  “Y-yes!”

  “Wing! Per!” Calling two of the leopards by name, Kerris motioned them onto the river, tossing them the last of the rope before they got too close. Ursa shook her head. She didn’t even know their names.

  And then, Kerris was beside her once again, crouching low under alMassay’s straining neck. He grabbed the bridle. “Kirin, you ready? Kirin?”