by Rob J. Hayes
"Thank you for your help, Zhihao," Itami said as he joined them in the centre of the village. No bow of respect though. Zhihao ignored her.
"You didn't kill them," Zhihao said as he closed on Bingwei Ma. "Any of them."
"I don't kill," Bingwei Ma said.
"They're bandits! They were killing women and children."
Bingwei Ma listened and nodded slowly. "So I saw. But I do not kill. I have never taken a life, and I will never take a life."
"What use is he?" Zhihao said, turning to Ein and the others. "We're on a quest to kill the emperor, and what use is a man who won't kill? Why did you even bring him back?"
"There are other ways to win a fight, Emerald Wind," said Bingwei Ma.
"He's right, Zhihao," Itami said. "He incapacitated as many bandits as I did, and did not take a single life."
Again Zhihao ignored her and focused on Ein. Meeting the boy's eyes was a terror, but anger and pride made Zhihao bold. "You brought us back to kill for you. Why is he exempt?"
The boy took a single step forward. Zhihao held his ground. "The Master of Sun Valley is the greatest wushu master who has ever lived. He can achieve, through strength of fist and principle, what you cannot." The boy cocked his head, his flat stare intense and so deep Zhihao felt he was drowning in it, being sucked into a darkness there was no escape from. "After all, he beat all three of you without killing anyone."
Ein took another step forward and this time Zhihao couldn't hold his ground; his legs wobbled and he faltered back a step. "I decide who I do and do not bring back," the boy continued. "I decide who will help me in my quest. I decide who is useful and who is not." Ein took another step and Zhihao gasped, pain in his chest flaring right where the Century Blade had stabbed him. "Be sure you remain useful, Zhihao Cheng."
Zhihao collapsed to his knees, the bottle of wine rolling free from his grasp. The pain in his chest was unbearable, as though his heart had turned to ice in his chest, and he could barely even see the boy through the tears in his eyes.
"Ein, that's enough," Itami said, stepping in front of the boy. Zhihao heard a loud slap and the pain vanished. When he blinked away the tears Ein was sitting on the ground, staring up at Itami, a red handprint on his wide-eyed face..
"The village is still burning," Bingwei Ma said. "The dead need collecting, and the injured seeing to." With that the Master of Sun Valley strode away to help restore the village to some semblance of order. Just like a hero should. The thought was bitter and Zhihao scowled it away. Chen Lu held out a hand to Zhihao and hauled him to his feet. The fat man said nothing, but patted Zhihao's shoulder. Then he waddled away to drag the corpses out of the village.
Ein had regained his feet and was dusting himself off. Itami moved away to help the villagers. And Roi Astara was still standing at the edge of the long grass, leaning on his rifle and watching everything from a distance. Zhihao turned and walked away and tried to make it look as though he wasn't fleeing from the boy.
The sun had risen and bathed the world in a soft orange glow muted by clouds by the time the village was in any sort of order. The fires had spread among the homes and almost half the village had burned before they got the flames under control. The bodies of the dead were collected, the bandits piled into a hasty pyre, and the villagers readied for burial. The wounded were ministered to however they could be, but there was no one in the village who claimed to be a healer. Cho wagered many more would die before the memory of the attack was forgotten. But at least they had saved the majority of the villagers. Saved them and their food supplies, meagre though they were.
Neither Ein nor Roi Astara took any part in bringing the village to order. Cho could understand it from the leper; he was diseased and unwilling to touch the living, and not strong enough to help with the dead. But the boy had his needle and thread and a rudimentary knowledge of sewing shut wounds, yet he sat and sulked next to Roi Astara rather than helping. Zhihao, too, sulked though in a more helpful fashion. He flung himself into the work of burning the bandit corpses and said not a word to anyone. Cho couldn't blame Zhihao; she too was angry with the way the boy had treated him.
When finally they gathered in the centre of the village, now cleared of bodies, it was to drink clean water and breakfast on sloppy gruel. They were eating when Ein approached, his angry stare sweeping across all of them. "It's time to go." His eyes flicked east towards the rising sun, and towards Wu.
The silence that followed Ein's words was broken by one of the villagers, an old lady with hair as grey as a winter storm. She stood from her little wooden stool and then bowed to the group. "I thank you for all you've done. Without your help, we'd all be dead or dying soon."
"Thanks mean more when accompanied by food," Chen Lu said in his high-pitched voice. Cho shot him a hard stare, but he ignored her. "Our supplies are low and I'm hungry. This… paste won't satisfy a qi like mine." He slapped his belly and grinned.
The old woman looked embarrassed. "We have so little to spare. You've seen for yourself. It's barely enough for those of us who are left."
"Why are your supplies so low?" Roi Astara asked. He was squatting down on his haunches just outside of the circle.
The old woman shrugged and sat back down on her stool. "The emperor takes half of everything, and his tax collectors are stingy with the numbers. More often than not they take the larger half. Then there's the tribute to…" She fell silent, glancing around at them all.
Roi Astara shook his head. "We are not spies for the emperor."
"No. You don't look it." The old lady laughed. "I'm not sure what you look like."
"People who are trying to help, in any way we can." The leper finished with a coughing fit, new stains of red showing through his bandages.
The old lady nodded. "We pay a tribute to the Steel Prince. He takes it to support his soldiers. He's the last hope we have of getting rid of that damned emperor."
"Fan!" An old man, bent-backed with a beard stretching down to his waist, shook his head violently. "Even if these folk aren't spies, you never know who might be."
The old woman wheezed. "Oh, Xinfei, I don't care anymore. What else can they do to us? Take more food? We already don't have enough to feed the village, even with most of the men away. Kill us? Well, it would be one less mouth to feed. And the chances are we'll all die the next time a group of thieves decides to take what's ours. I might as well tell these kind folk what they want to know, and if I get to curse the name Henan WuLong in the process, all the better." She spat on the dirt.
Ein winced at the name, but only Zhihao seemed to notice.
"Ever since Emperor WuLong kidnapped all the kings of Hosa," the old woman continued, "we've been on our own. Nobody comes to help us. Nobody patrols the roads. Thieves come and take what they want, and tax collectors come and take even more. And all the while the emperor sits behind his walls in the city of Jieshu, holding all the kings hostage so none of their sons rise up."
"None but the Steel Prince," Roi Astara said, having overcome his latest coughing fit.
"Too true. Might be true what folk say about him being the strongest warrior since the Century Blade, but he's almost as bad as the thieves. Takes whatever we can spare, food and young men both, and does nothing about the bandits. Just sits in his camp and trains and plans. And every time his people come to take more from us, they say 'Soon. Soon he'll liberate us all.' It's been nearly two years and I don't feel the least bit liberated."
"Where can we find this Steel Prince?" Ein asked, suddenly enthusiastic again.
"How should I know?"
The old man's eyes widened and he quickly looked at the ground beneath his feet, scuffing at the dirt. Cho stood and approached him. "Xinfei, was it?" she said. "You know, don't you? Where we can find the Steel Prince."
"What?" Fan threw up her hands. "Why the stars would he know?"
"Please, tell us." Cho knelt in front of Xinfei and caught his stare with her own. "You're protecting his location. Perhaps that means
you believe in his cause. Then you should know that we intend to kill the Emperor of Ten Kings. Our goals align with those of the Steel Prince. We can help each other. Maybe even put an end to your suffering."
Still the old man said nothing.
"Do you know something, Xinfei?" Fan asked. "You tell me now if you know something." He looked up and met her eyes with a guilty smile. "Oh by the stars, you old fool. Tell them!"
By midmorning they were on their way again; not east towards Wu, but south-east towards the great forest of Qing. To find the Steel Prince, infiltrate his army, and somehow kill him without anyone noticing.
Chapter 27
The trees all around them were monsters, many of them so thick it would take twenty of Cho or more to surround the trunk. They were orange-red, with millions of emerald leaves sprouting from branches that began far above the forest floor. Some of the trees were rotting away at the base, no doubt set upon by devouring insects. It was encouraging to think that something so small could take down something so large, given enough time, and the advantage of numbers. Other trees were bulbous, malformed things; their wood seemed to bulge outward where it met the ground. There were rocks too, so large it would take a hundred horses to move them, spread out between the trees. Cho thought it looked like a playground of giants. She felt small and insignificant amongst it all.
The midday sun filtered down to them through the canopy. Birds cooed from high above and leaves and twigs crunched underfoot as the heroes made their way further into the forest. Every now and then she would catch a glimpse of something her eyes couldn't quite see. Movement passing behind trees, shadows there one moment and gone the next. When she strained her ears, she could hear past the bird calls and past the noise of her group's passage; there were whispers here.
"We're being watched," Roi Astara said. The leper was limping and using his rifle as a crutch. Perhaps it was just another symptom of his disease. She pitied him, and couldn't fathom what it must be like to be afflicted with his disease, always needing to be conscious of keeping a distance from everyone, knowing you would never again feel human contact. The thought saddened her more than she could say.
"More yokai?" Zhihao said. He looked tired. They all looked tired. None had slept the night, and more than that, they had spent much of it fighting, putting out fires, and burning the dead. Even Chen Lu was quiet, trudging alone in a sullen silence.
"I don't sense any spirits," Ein said, his red scarf in his hands once more. "At least none that mean us harm. But the forest is drenched in them."
"These are not spirits. They are men watching us," Roi Astara said, from a few paces behind Ein, who trailed his heroes.
"That means we are on the right track then," said Bingwei Ma. "Perhaps we should stop and request an audience?"
Cho dropped back a couple of paces to walk alongside Ein. "Bingwei Ma brings up a good point. You are determined to recruit this Steel Prince to your quest. I do not believe fighting our way to him is the wisest course."
Ein looked up at her then and Cho thought she saw a moment of uncertainty. Then the boy nodded. "Diplomacy then?" He lowered his voice to a whisper so only Cho could hear. "But he still needs to die."
Cho considered that to be a bridge they would burn when they came to it. "Chen Lu, would you do the honours? I believe you have the loudest voice."
Iron Gut Chen laughed and drew in a deep breath. "I am Iron Gut Chen," he shrieked. "And these are my companions. We seek an audience with the Steel Prince of Qing."
As his words faded into the distance, the sounds of the forest flooded back in. There was no response.
"Perhaps the size of my voice scared them off." Chen Lu laughed.
"Perhaps we should point out that we come in peace," Cho suggested.
Chen Lu huffed impatiently and drew in another deep breath. "We come in peace. The boy wants to talk about killing the emperor."
Zhihao slapped Chen Lu's arm. "You really don't do subtle do you, fat man?"
"Subtlety is for small people. Do I look small to you, small person?"
A single arrow whistled through the air from high above, thudding into the ground just a couple of steps ahead of Chen Lu. The shaft quivered in the ground. For a moment Cho thought Chen Lu might take offence, but he just laughed. "I think they heard me."
"You're here to talk?" A tall man wearing plated red ceramic armour stepped around one of the giant trees. He had a short sword sheathed at his waist and a bow in one hand, but he could not have been the one to loose the arrow, the angle was wrong. That meant there were more of them.
"Peace," Bingwei Ma said with a bow from the waist. "We only wish to talk with the Steel Prince. No violence is intended."
The man seemed to mull it over for a moment, and Cho heard footsteps in the leaf litter nearby -- soldiers moving into place to either ambush or escort.
"You must hand over your weapons, " said the man in the red amour. He was greeted by a stony silence. More soldiers appeared from behind the trees and others stepped out onto the thick branches above. Some carried bows and others held guandao with hafts as long as Cho was tall, and curved blades that glinted in the sunlight. Used properly a warrior could cut a person in half with a good strike from a guandao, but Cho wondered whether these soldiers could wield them with such skill.
Zhihao's hands strayed to his swords and Chen Lu dropped his keg and parasol, and tightened his grip on his mace. Cho decided it was time for her to take the initiative. She stepped forward past Chen Lu and pulled her saya free from her belt, placing it on the ground in front of her. "I would ask you keep them safe, and do not draw the blades. As a matter of respect." She bowed then and stepped back.
Chen Lu was next, heaving his mace from his shoulder and dumping it on the forest floor with a thud like a tree falling. "Good luck lifting it."
Roi Astara stepped aside from the group, his rifle held high so as not to appear threatening. "I would not ask anyone else to carry my weapon. I would not like to risk it."
The man in the red armour, now backed by a dozen other soldiers looked unconvinced. "What's wrong with you?"
"Leprosy," Roi Astara said without delay. "Here." He pulled a strip of bandage from a pocket in his green trousers and wrapped it over the firing plate of his rifle half a dozen times. "If any of your men see me remove this cloth, they are welcome to cut me down."
The man in the armour nodded to that and all eyes turned to Zhihao. The Emerald Wind crossed his arms and shook his head. "Am I the only one of us who isn't crazy. I'm not walking into a camp of militant rebels without a weapon."
Cho took another step backwards and smiled at Zhihao. "You'll be the only one. Even if you have your swords; what can you do alone against an army? And consider, do any of us really need weapons to be dangerous?"
Zhihao deliberated her words, but Cho already knew the outcome. The Emerald Wind liked to play the loner, but the truth was he craved the acceptance of others. Eventually he threw his hands in the air, declared them all fools, and placed his swords next to Cho's. Then he retreated to the back of the group to sulk. The red-armoured soldiers moved forward to collect the weapons, two of them having to work together to drag Chen Lu's mace away. Soon an armed escort was leading them farther into the great forest.
Cho soon recognised the evidence of war preparation. The sound of steel on steel, the smell of smoke from a blacksmith's fire, sentries with watchful eyes. Then there were tents among the giant trees, small at first but larger as they continued farther into the forest. They were colourful, in reds and greens and blues, and Roi Astara pointed out that the emblems stitched into the cloth signified soldiers from Qing and from Shin, from Lau and from Song. It seemed every one of the Ten Kingdoms of Hosa was contributing to the Steel Prince's rebellion, even Wu itself. Everywhere, were soldiers, their coloured armour as varied as the tents. Some worked at maintaining weapons, and others trained in the midday light. So many soldiers Cho didn't bother to count them. She had never seen such an army gath
ered, and wagered there must be thousands of soldiers in the forest. They were treated with a cold scrutiny and more than a little curiosity as they were marched through the camp.
"We all flocked to the prince's call," the man in the red armour said. "After the emperor took the kings hostage, no one else was willing to stand up to him. His taxes are sucking the land dry and he cares for nothing except military conquest. I've heard rumours he means to wage war against Ipia next. So when the Steel Prince declared the emperor a traitor to Hosa, men and women of all walks fled to his banner. When the emperor threatened to kill King Qing if the prince didn't bend a knee, the prince sent his armies to strike at supply lines, and he snuck into Wu alone to watch the emperor kill his father. Fuel to hatred, I believe."
"He refused to capitulate, even to save his father's life?" Bingwei Ma asked.
The soldier nodded. "The way I hear it, when the prince was young he was kidnapped by bandits. I don't know how they got to him, but they did. Some people say it was the emperor's men trying to undermine Qing. The bandits demanded a ransom, money for the boy prince's life. King Qing refused to pay. Said he would never pay. So the bandits sent him a drawing, a description of what they would do the prince's face if they king didn't pay. It wasn't pretty."
Cho shuddered at the thought. "It would take a hard man to stand by as his son faced mutilation."
"He did though, King Qing. Still he refused to pay. Five days later the prince turns up in Singwoo, covered head to toe in blood. The bandits did it, cut the prince's face up. A horrible mess. But then they thought him too weak to fight back and let their guard down. I've heard he killed them all. Even with his face all messed up, bleeding from a hundred wounds, he escaped and killed every one of those bandits. Then he walked all the way back to Singwoo. Collapsed just inside the city walls. But he survived."
