by JC Kang
Hollow in her belly, she crept from tree to tree, deeper into the garden, and then tiptoed up to the veranda that connected all the pavilions. Curiously, no guards stood watch outside. Perhaps they were posted inside.
At Hardeep’s pavilion, she pressed her ear up against the closest window’s latticework.
“Yes, lower,” Prince Hardeep said, to the giggles of at least two Night Blossoms.
One of the ladies let out a primal moan. Voice panting, she said, “Your Excellency is so well-endowed.”
If Kaiya’s stomach could twist any more, it could be used as a New Year’s knot decoration. She meant nothing to him beyond her ability to save his own homeland. She held a hand over her mouth.
“I didn’t know the foreigner could speak Hua,” a high-pitched girl’s voice said from behind.
Kaiya’s heart leapt into her throat. She whipped around. There was no one there. The courtyard was empty. “Show yourself.”
“Is that even the prince’s voice?” The voice changed, now sounding suspiciously similar to her own, and came from…the stone dragon overlooking the pond?
A ghost, perhaps? A chill crawled up Kaiya’s spine. But no, it couldn’t be. Sun-Moon Palace’s layout confused ghosts, herding them out through the alleys’ twists and turns.
“Who are you?” she hissed. Closing her eyes, she listened for a telltale breath.
There, in the eaves. Hidden in the trickling of the palace stream, quieter than the Night Blossoms making the clouds and rain, breathed a slow, light breath. Kaiya looked up, just in time to see a shadow flutter away. The breath disappeared.
Regardless who the mysterious girl was, she was right: that wasn’t Prince Hardeep’s voice in the pavilion, and up to now, all his words had been spoken in Hua. Steeling herself against what she would inevitably see, she burst through the doors.
There, a Night Blossom mounted the Minister of Appointments himself. Her gown hung loosely at her elbows. Another almost-naked Night Blossom lay on her side, head propped on an elbow, a hand hidden somewhere beneath the first’s gowns.
Kaiya cast her eyes at the floor. “Where is Prince…the Blind Musician?”
“Dian-xia!” The minister pushed the woman off. Covering himself, he rose and bowed.
Wide-eyed, the Night Blossoms exchanged glances. The princess? one mouthed. The other nodded. They both gathered their gowns up around themselves. Kneeling, they pressed their foreheads to the ground.
Utter silence. Kaiya opened and closed her mouth. Had she gone deaf? Her cheeks burned hot. Minister Hu barely covered himself with a woman’s silk gown, exposing his rotund belly. Not like Kaiya had a clear view, since she kept her gaze averted. The smell…
“Where is Prin—the Blind Musician?” she said, this time louder and with all the righteous indignation she could muster. Never mind all the rules she was breaking.
“Dian-xia.” Minister Hu’s voice, usually harsh, wobbled with what could only be worry. “The musician…the musician wanted to see the moonlight over the gardens.”
Kaiya stared at his forehead. “Where are the guards? There were explicit orders that the Blind Musician stay here.”
“Yes, well…” the minister licked his lips as sweat gathered on his brow. Then, his eyebrows clashed together. “You are supposed to be dining with the Crown Princess. Why are you here?”
Both of them were in compromising positions, and now it was a battle of wills. One Kaiya refused to lose. She turned to the Night Blossoms. “Where is the Blind Musician?”
One looked up at the minister, then back. Her lips trembled. “Dian-xia, the musician bribed the minister.”
Lips trembling, Minister Hu plopped to his knees and slammed his forehead to the Ayuri wool rug. “Forgive me, Dian-xia. Please, please, don’t tell the Tianzi.”
Kaiya’s jaw clenched. The ever-uptight Minister Hu, literally caught with his pants down, partaking of prostitutes meant for someone else and taking a bribe. “When will the Blind Musician return?”
“He said by dawn,” the second Night Blossom said.
Kaiya twirled a lock of her hair, so unruly compared to the Night Blossoms’ perfection. Where would Prince Hardeep have gone? Someplace with something more important than the realm’s best food and a pair of beautiful women. To think she’d almost shirked all sense of duty and given herself to him. “What are your names? What house do you come from?”
“Jasmine and Peony from the Jade Teahouse,” one said.
“Be sure to tell your proprietress what happened tonight.” Kaiya locked her glare on Minister Hu, whose head dropped again. “We will never speak of this again. And if I hear of any misfortune coming to the Jade Teahouse or its Night Blossoms, I will ensure that you are held responsible. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dian-xia!” He knocked his head against the floor three more times.
“Now get back to what the Tianzi pays you for.” Kaiya spun on her heel and left. She might have earned a life-long enemy in Minister Hu, but as long as she ensured Jasmine and Peony shared their story among their sisters, it would be leverage to use against him. She would send a handmaiden to the Jade Teahouse in the Floating World tomorrow to confirm everyone’s wellbeing.
In the meantime, Prince Hardeep was gone, along with her impulse to escape marriage to Lord Tong. Her hand strayed to Tian’s pebble. What had she been thinking? The nation’s stability depended on her sacrifice. She squeezed the pillow book, angry at herself for succumbing to its magic.
Now, she had to protect the guards and secretary from punishment. With extra spring in her step, she hurried back through the alleys with much less care than on her way.
Until the same sound as before whispered on the night’s breeze. Footsteps? Breathing? It was almost a mingling of the two. The interloper who’d spoken, perhaps. She tracked it to its source, but saw nothing. Shrugging off her suspicions, she continued to the central plaza.
Dozens of soldiers, all armed for battle, marched toward the palace entrance in exacting ranks. It was strange, for this late hour, but thankfully nobody looked in her direction. The steps to the Hall of Supreme Harmony and imperial archives stood empty. There was no activity at the Hall of Pure Melody, at least not on the outside. Had her sleeping retinue been discovered, surely there would be quite the commotion there.
What a mistake. Father had said never to use magic as a crutch. She frowned at the pillow book, which she’d planned to give Prince Hardeep in hopes that it would spark his affection for her. That wasn’t true love. No, if someone were to love her, it shouldn’t be because of some magic cut into the lines of a woodblock print. Guilt wrenched her insides.
She ran as quietly as she could. Up the steps. Through the double doors. On the other side, she blew out a breath and listened. In the central chamber, at least one of the three men snored. Other than that, no other human sounds carried through the halls. For now, at least, her most recent ill-advised escapade had gone unnoticed.
Kaiya returned to the central chamber, where Secretary Hong, Meiling, and the two imperial guards slept. She walked across the floor and bent down over one of the guards. “Wake up.”
He stretched his arms out and yawned, but then rolled over back into sleep. At his side, the other snored. Reaching out to both of them, she shook their shoulders. The second just grunted.
Sighing, she thought back to the book of musical magic. Had it told how to reverse a magically induced sleep? Kaiya mentally listed what she remembered: Inducing sleep. Evoking rage. Arousing lust. Stirring fear. But nothing on how to rouse someone from sleep. Walking back to the guards, she pondered the problem. In order to put them to sleep in the first place, they had to already be tired. Her, too. The song, like a child’s lullaby, had gone from a moderate pace to quieter and slow.
At least now her energy had returned. Meanwhile, these four had already benefited from half an hour of sleep. Maybe reversing the song would work, by starting slow and soft and increasing the tempo. Like her masters’ duet,
where each part interacted with the other. It was worth a try.
First, she shook them some more, in hopes that it would bring them to the edge of consciousness. She squatted low, feet flat and toes gripping the floor. The men’s breaths, though light, rose and fell in near synchronicity. She hummed, setting the beat to one’s inhalations. Slow at first; then she increased the tempo.
The first guard responded, his chest rising in faster clips. The second and Meiling soon joined him. Secretary Hong, however, remained the same, like a bass beat; stubborn, fighting against her own song. She hummed louder, switching her focus to Hong’s heart.
He squirmed a little, but still showed no other sign of waking. It wasn’t working. Perhaps…she considered the storage room. A musical instrument should help magnify the effect. She started to the door.
Out in the corridor, boots clopped. Someone must have heard her song. This would not end well for her trusted servants. She dashed out of the performance hall and slid the door shut behind her. Turning, she searched for the source of the footsteps.
Cousin Kai-Long—Lord Peng. He held a light bauble lamp in one hand, while a helmet was tucked under the other arm. Instead of court robes, he wore lamellar armor. “Dian-xia, I thought I would find you here. Or at Prince Hardeep’s pavilion.”
Her cheeks flushed hot. She fixated on the floor. How predictable she’d become. If he knew what she’d planned to do with Hardeep…
“Come with me.” He placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders and looked her up and down, very much like a tailor measuring her for a new dress. He pulled the hood of her cloak over her head.
She shook her head. The guards, Secretary Hong, and Meiling would all face punishment.
“There’s no time to spare.”
She searched his eyes. “What’s happening?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you.”
They were keeping secrets from her? “Tell me,” she said. “That is my command.”
He lowered his voice, as if the walls had ears. “Your wedding procession.”
“What?” How was that even possible?
“I am leading it. We are headed to Wailian Castle tonight. Lord Tong wants to marry you tomorrow, before Prince Kai-Wu’s wedding.”
So her marriage was going to happen, sooner than later. Much sooner. And they weren’t even going to tell her. Maybe this was Minister Hu’s revenge. Kaiya’s heart sank. “I…I will get ready.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going. They are risking a decoy instead. Now, let’s get you back to your room before anyone else starts looking for you.”
“What? A decoy?”
“It is a trick, to get us into Wailian Castle and capture Lord Tong.”
Kaiya’s head spun. “He won’t let that many armed men in, if any.”
“I have asked Prince Hardeep to join us. His Paladin fighting skills make him better than twenty men. ”
So that’s where Hardeep had gone. Still, one man, worth twenty or even a hundred, could not fight against a garrison of thousands. Loyal men might all die and the realm would fall into turmoil. “Take me with you. If your plan does not work, I will offer myself in exchange for your lives.”
Or use the budding power of her voice to sing Lord Tong to surrender. Some things were better left unsaid, especially if they might not be reliable.
Kai-Long shook his head. “I can’t endanger you. Now, hurry back to the residence. I have to go now, my staff is assembling.” He turned and headed back toward the entrance before she could stop him.
Kaiya looked from the doors leading out, then to the doors leading into the performance hall. Two paths lay ahead: one kept her safe but threatened the realm; the other could end the rebellion, perhaps at the cost of her dreams.
There was no choice, really. She’d made her decision earlier in the day, when she sacrificed her hopes before all the hereditary lords. The difference was that now, another option lay ahead. She’d sung men to sleep. Maybe that’s all it would take to subdue Lord Tong.
CHAPTER 34
Easier To Be a Soldier than a General
Kaiya’s heart beat with a resolute calm, drowning out all other sounds in her ears. Squaring her shoulders, she strode toward the doors out of the Hall of Pure Melody. Surely, Yang-Di, smiling upon her in Heaven, would provide a means of mingling with the procession. Her wedding procession, to which she wasn’t even invited.
She peeked out. Right in front of her on the Hall’s steps, Cousin Kai-Long’s command staff assembled. He, himself, stood at the bottom of the stairs, addressing them from left to right. She pulled back before his gaze swept over her, but he paused. Had he seen her?
Apparently not. He continued with his speech. She let out the breath she held and peeked out again. Surplus equipment was stacked right by the door. Weapons, armor. A set of lamellar armor and a T-slot helm, likely for a messenger boy, appeared to be her size and lay just within reach. And how strange it was for a leader to stand at the bottom of the steps, instead of the top, leaving his men with their backs to her.
It couldn’t be a coincidence. Heaven had sent her a sign. This was the right thing to do.
When the men cheered at Kai-Long’s words, she grabbed the armor and dragged it in. It was lighter than it appeared; she’d have no problem lifting it over her head and shrugging it on. First, though, she had to consider her own clothes. The inner gown hung lower than the armor, and the silk was too strong to tear.
Slinking back to the performance hall, she bent over and relieved one of the guards of his dagger. His dao would complete the disguise, but she thought the better of it. Like the ring that marked his station as an imperial guard, the sword represented his honor.
After gauging the length of the armor on her, she cut the bottom of her inner gown. The long sleeves of her outer gown became her leggings, bound with strips shorn from its hem. She shrugged on the armored tunic, and everything more or less looked right.
Removing her hairpins, she let her hair drop to the middle of her back. Much too long. She started to cut it, as well, but paused. Untamable as it was, her hair was the only feminine thing about her. Instead, she tied it back in a pony tail, like a man. For once, it obeyed. How easy men had it.
She glanced out again. The command staff marched toward the front of the plaza, where a hundred soldiers stood in orderly ranks. A contingent of imperial guards joined in, flanking her decoy and an unfamiliar handmaiden as they marched to her palanquin.
Up on the steps in front of her, young soldiers collected the gear and supplies. One of them, a boy who might have been her twin in his armor, reached for the helm she’d planned to take. She stepped out and grabbed it.
His eyes widened. “You’re not allowed in there!” The simple marks on his armor, so different from the elaborate symbols on the imperial guards, did not suggest a high rank.
She donned the helmet, which strained her poor neck muscles. “I thought...” Too high-pitched! She cleared her throat and lowered her voice, as if singing a bass song. “I thought I heard someone in there.”
“Well, hurry up.” He pointed at a bundle of short spears.
Hugging them in her arms, she followed the boy to a line of horse-drawn carts, laden with weapons and bandages. Several grooms held the reins of messenger swifthorses. One of her palace physicians, Fang Weiyong, gave instructions to medics.
Keeping her head low to avoid his eyes, she dared a glance at the palanquin, some hundred paces away. The decoy resembled her, or at least an idealized version of her…of course! It was undoubtedly the work of the magic bauble Kai-Long had used the night before to help her escape. In all likelihood, the best warrior held it now, and would use it to get close to Lord Tong.
Who could it be? An imperial guard, perhaps. Not one of hers, since Chen Xin, Ma Jun, Zhao Yue, Li Wei, and Xu Zhan were all gathered around the palanquin. Maybe it was Prince Hardeep, with his Paladin skills? It made sense, given what Kai-Long had said about Hardeep offering to help. And
for what reason? Why would he risk himself when his own country needed him? Kaiya’s chest squeezed.
Then she shuddered as the decoy ducked into the palanquin. Better him than her! Even as heavy and languid as her limbs felt, it was far better to march all night than to ride in the suffocating confines of a glorified coffin.
“Soldiers of Hua!” Cousin Kai-Long’s voice carried across the courtyard. He made for a dashing figure, sitting astride a white imperial stallion. The low murmurs guttered. “Tonight, we will march along the north highway. All night, double time.”
Kaiya’s legs buckled at the thought, and the lightweight armor and helm now might have been a dwarven anvil. Maybe the palanquin wasn’t such a bad thing. Using a Dragon Song to vanquish Lord Tong required energy; energy she wouldn’t have after a long night marching.
Kai-Long pointed north. “Our goal is to reach the Great Wall gate by dawn, then the outside of Wailian Castle by breakfast. We will rest for a short while to eat while we coordinate with General Lu’s Army of the North, and gather information about the traitor’s defenses. That might be your only rest before you are called on to storm an impregnable fortress.”
Mutters broke out, sharing Kaiya’s sentiment. This was a fool’s errand, an engagement that would only work if the decoy succeeded. Even more reason to try her way.
Holding up a hand, Kai-Long’s voice rose to a crescendo. “This may very well be the most difficult operation you will ever take part in. However, I know you. The best soldiers Hua has seen in centuries are up to the task. Let us teach the rebel Tong Baxian the punishment for violating the Mandate of Heaven!”
The soldiers erupted into cheers, but Kaiya cringed. If pretty words were enough to convince a man to throw his life away, there didn’t need to be many orators to instigate wars. For now, she’d keep her head low, lest someone recognize her and end her first, and in all likelihood last, military campaign.
