The Dragon Songs Saga: The Complete Quartet: Songs of Insurrection, Orchestra of Treacheries, Dances of Deception, and Symphony of Fates

by JC Kang

  Kaiya’s hand strayed to Prince Hardeep’s lotus jewel, concealed by the band of her langa. It warmed her palm, even through the cloth.

  Prince Dhananad nonchalantly waved off the Bovyan’s comments. “It goes without saying that Ankira is an indivisible part of Madura.”

  “And as Princess Kaiya knows, Ankira Province sits at the border of Cathay.” The Bovyan’s stare bore into her. “You would not come all the way here unless you were concerned about the potential sting of the Golden Scorpions. So perhaps the question should be, what token of goodwill is Cathay willing to offer to ensure lasting peace with glorious Madura?”

  The prince laughed and waved a hand. “Our lunch was virtually ruined by the clumsy handmaiden. There is no need to leave a bad taste in our mouths by spewing unveiled threats.”

  The Teleri glared at Dhananad, but remained silent as the prince turned back to her. “Though our friend brings up a good suggestion: we must certainly endeavor to ensure continuing good relations between our two countries.”

  Kaiya bowed her head. “I could not agree more with your wisdom. Though our past trade agreement expired, perhaps we could negotiate a new one?” One that didn’t involve firepowder.

  A devious glint shined in the Dhananad’s eyes. “Yes. Perhaps we could trade nuptials among a prince and princess of our realms. I believe this is a custom our cultures share, to strengthen relations via marriage? The Wang family marries its princes and princesses to the sons and daughters of your hereditary lords, does it not?”

  Ambassador Ling’s robes rustled behind her, and Jie’s gaze bored into her back. Maybe they worried she didn’t understand the tacit message, though Dhananad left no doubt where the conversation was headed. All of his previous flattery and invitations had been a game to set up this question. With both of her brothers married, there was only one princess to barter.

  Dhananad would probably not take no for an answer, and the Madurans hopelessly outnumbered the Hua in Vyara City.

  Kaiya stole a glance out of the window. From the bright sun and position of the shade, the Iridescent Moon had probably waxed to mid-crescent, and there were only a little more than three hours until sundown. In order to avoid replying to Prince Dhananad’s audacious proposal, she decided to mimic Ayana’s charm spell the only way she knew how.

  CHAPTER 33:

  Shifts in Winds

  Peng Kai-Long sat in his tea room, reading and rereading the imperial missive which summoned all Tai-Ming and Yu-Ming to the palace.

  The Tianzi was dying, Crown Prince Kai-Guo was bedridden. Prince Kai-Wu was already dead.

  Hong’s poison, as promised during their secret meeting at Guanshan Temple six weeks earlier, had worked. The old fool’s ambition to become Chief Minister must’ve blinded him to the perils in trusting the soon-to-be Tianzi. It wouldn’t be the Chief Minister’s medallion around his neck when everything was said and done.

  Kai-Long unfurled a map of Huajing, picturing where his soldiers and those of his allies were deployed in relation to vital government centers. It was a precautionary measure. Once the Tianzi and Crown Prince joined Prince Kai-Wu in the netherworld, he would meet little resistance.

  The Dragon Throne was his.

  How long would the old man linger? The uncertainty raised other uncertainties. Cousin Kaiya might visit the Ankirans any day now. If Prince Hardeep were there, with no knowledge of his correspondence with her, she was smart enough to realize who was behind the fake letters. Perhaps smart enough to unravel his entire role.

  A grin came unbidden. Information travelled at the speed of ships, and the Golden Phoenix would depart for Vyara today. It would be best to make sure she remained anchored in Jiangkou for as long as possible, to give him more time to consolidate his power before the girl returned. He already had a hundred men not far from the docks.

  Kai-Long hastily drafted a letter. He then rose and threw open the doors to the tea room. A glorious afternoon awaited him, sun shining in the bright blue skies. Surely it was a sign from Heaven. He was destined to rule.

  His steward waiting outside bowed. “Your horse is ready, Jue-ye.”

  “Excellent.” He pressed his handwritten message into the steward’s hands. “Have this letter conveyed to our provincial trade office in Jiangkou. Use our own horse relays. Nobody is to see this except Lord Tu.”

  Dismissing the steward, Kai-Long strode toward the stables and found his horse already saddled. An entourage of his best guards, dressed in formal court uniforms, sat astride their mounts.

  He swung into his saddle and beckoned them forward. “Come. Destiny awaits.”

  The horses trotted toward the main gates. They opened to reveal a heavily-cloaked woman.

  Undaunted by the horses, she sank to both knees and set her forehead to the ground. “Lord Peng, might I have a word with you in private?”

  That voice, the foreign accent. Hong’s concubine, Leina. Likely here to secure her lord’s favor in the new regime. It might be entertaining, and rewarding, to see what she might offer for the old man’s life. Rewarding enough to delay departure. “What do you wish to tell me that my own loyal men cannot hear?”

  She looked up. “You are riding into a trap. Do you want to know why?”

  Leina knelt on the tea room mats, recalling what old Hong had told her. In his own clandestine meeting with Lord Peng here, he’d been shaken by the attack on Princess Kaiya. Worried that Peng was ready to betray him.

  Not even a month had passed, yet how long ago it seemed. Each player’s plot had surged into motion from that point, sometimes hiding in another’s shadow, sometimes amplifying, sometimes crashing head-to-head. The first round of winners would soon emerge from the mess of entangled plans.

  With one of his underlings kneeling behind him, Peng eyed her like a bird of prey. “Hong had the Tianzi and his sons poisoned, did he not? The Dragon Throne sits empty. How am I walking into a trap and not to glory?”

  He had less foresight than it seemed. To think she’d picked him out as one of the initial victors. She bowed her head again. “Prince Kai-Wu still lives, unharmed, with the authority of the Tianzi vested in his hands until either his brother or the Tianzi recovers.”

  Peng pulled out and unfurled the imperial missive with a whip of his hand. “This says Kai-Wu is dead. It is stamped by the imperial correspondence seal. Do you deny its authenticity? A lie stamped with the seal would mean the Tianzi losing the Mandate of Heaven.” Despite the outward show of confidence, his trembling voice hinted at uncertainty.

  She pointed. “Look carefully. There is magic of distraction embedded in the words, so much that you missed that the seal is a fake.” As his eyes roved over the page, she continued, “Minister Hong convinced Prince Kai-Wu to send these out to find out who is loyal to the Wang family.”

  “I am a member of the Wang family!”

  “But through a maternal line, so your claim is in question. You will be branded as a usurper, taken into custody the instant you try to claim the Dragon Throne.”

  Peng’s eyebrows bunched together. “Not if I don’t claim the throne. Not if I swear loyalty to Kai-Wu. The weak-minded boy will be easy to manipulate until I can get rid of him altogether.”

  She shook her head. “Hong’s mole in the kitchen staff fingered you as the procurer of the offending spice, since it came up through Nanling Province, on your ships.”

  Peng paled, forcing her to hide her satisfaction. His lip quivered. “My province is loyal to me. I will retreat there and reconsolidate my power. Yutou Province is my ally. They can defend the west road into Nanling while my armies defend the north pass.”

  Men. Always too confident. She shrugged. “Your fief is forfeit. Lord Liang will desert you, making Yutou Province a staging area for an invasion instead of a buffer. That is, if you even make it home in the first place. A full division of the imperial army waits on the road south to capture you.”

  The young lord jumped to his feet and turned to his lieutenant. “Send
word to all of my men stationed in Huajing. Order them to march east to Jiangkou. Have our men already in Jiangkou begin operations to capture the Golden Phoenix.”

  He then glared down at her, the hand on his sword sending a cold shiver down her spine. “Why are you helping me?”

  If there was one thing a man believed, it was his own genius; none more so than Lord Peng. As long as she sang the song he wanted to hear, she could deceive him and she would live. “You are a capable leader. If you survive, you will make an unparalleled Tianzi.”

  And create enough chaos inside the nation to weaken it…

  Minister Hong Jianbin knelt close to the Dragon Throne, where Prince Kai-Wu sat for the first time. The exalted spot, reserved for the Chief Minister, provided an excellent view of all the other ministers and hereditary lords who sat in rows facing the throne. It made the trip up the steps to the Hall of Supreme Harmony worth the toll it took on his old knees and lungs.

  Prince Kai-Wu fidgeted, his attention shifting from person to person. Sweat matted the hair peeking through the Tianzi’s hat of office. Never expecting to inherit, the poor boy was in over his head. It was fortuitous—or at least well-planned—that Hong had put himself in the prince’s good graces to become his advisor. Once the Tianzi and Crown Prince died, his power would know no bounds.

  “He will show,” Hong said. At least he hoped the soon-to-be ex-Lord Peng would show. It would be far easier to take him into custody inside the palace, unarmed and lightly protected. He looked at the hundred imperial guards deployed around the room, each more than a match for Peng and a pair of guards. Malleable Prince Kai-Wu’s first decisive act would be a public humiliation of Peng.

  Unless the wily young lord had sniffed out the trap.

  Hong had distinguished himself in Prince Kai-Wu’s esteem with his infallible wisdom and accurate predictions. To have this plan fail would undermine his credibility, though he had also advised Prince Kai-Wu to surround Peng’s compound.

  A messenger appeared at the threshold, quieting the murmuring lords. He stepped into the hall and dropped to both knees, forehead to the ground. “Dian-xia! Horrible news! Our troops surrounded Lord Peng’s villa, but he already escaped. He is moving on Jiangkou Port!”

  Blood rushed from Hong’s face. “He is going to try to steal a ship. Maybe even the Golden Phoenix herself.” How could he have not foreseen such a move? Where was the opportunity in this disaster?

  There it was. Zheng Ming, soon to embark for his reunion with Princess Kaiya, might already be on the Tianzi’s flagship. Maybe Peng would kill him. Or better yet, hold him hostage and expose him for the weakling he was.

  Hong met Prince Kai-Wu’s gaze, trying to speak as quietly as he could. “Send word to Young Lord Zheng to defend the Golden Phoenix from the traitor’s imminent attack.”

  CHAPTER 34:

  The Perfect Dance

  As a collector of unique and beautiful objects of art, Prince Dhananad looked forward to possessing this stunning girl whose every move embodied grace. Even without the use of the intoxicant-laced nectar, Princess Kaiya had fallen for his charm. Yet she still kept up the charade of innocent misunderstanding.

  How cute! She surely understood his wedding proposal. He had made it obvious with the talk of binding royal families.

  “As always, you are well-informed,” Princess Kaiya said. “My ancestor Wang Xinchang used many methods to ensure civil stability and lasting peace, political marriage among them. He was also famous for the cultivation of the fine arts, especially among our nobility. Beyond economic, political, and military acumen, all of our hereditary lords are well-versed in some form of art. Is that not the same in Madura? I have heard that you are an excellent dancer.”

  She knew of his dance! He waved a nonchalant hand. “I have been told that my dancing is passable. Certainly not on par with one such as yourself.”

  Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “It is rude in Cathay to directly ask someone to perform, but I would be honored if you show me an Ayuri dance.”

  “By all means, Sweet Kaiya.” He returned her coy smile. “But it is our custom that if I dance at your request, you must dance for me as well.”

  She covered her mouth with delicate fingers as she giggled. “This is not our custom, but, When in Vyara, do as the Ayuri do.”

  Dhananad laughed. “Then it is a mutually beneficial situation, much like a union between our two illustrious families would be.” He beckoned toward the musicians. “Play The Scorpion King Vanquishes the Twelve-Armed Demon.”

  The Teleri official—what was his name again?— shuffled petulantly beside him. Cursed with a short life, Bovyans lacked patience. That was why their soulless empire would never achieve greatness compared to Madura. If this uncultured boor could not appreciate fine art, that was his problem.

  He stood and sauntered to the middle of the room. The music, which had been barely perceptible while they ate, now resonated clearly in the domed room. The rhythmic beat energized his solo, which he knew to be the epitome of Ayuri male dance: distinct poses with rapid transitions to the music’s cadence. Perhaps she would find it jerky, but no more than their dance between the bed sheets would be.

  At the end of his display of technical mastery and physical flexibility, she wholeheartedly applauded. “Prince Dhananad, I am embarrassed to follow such an amazing performance.”

  As she should be; but at the very least, it would allow her dress—irritatingly altered to befit a virgin priestess of Shakti—to expose more of her smooth skin. He grinned. “Yes, but you promised!”

  “And it would not reflect well on Cathay if I go back on my promise, would it?” She blinked with captivating eyes. “But since we do not have any of our instruments, please forgive me as I improvise to your music.”

  Casting him an apologetic smile, Princess Kaiya spun and glided over to the musicians. She approached the drummer, whose various-sized tabla hand drums stood in a semicircle around him. She tapped out a long sequence on the drums at a moderate tempo. “Please play this as your tala refrain.” She then turned to the rest. “And please, let your inspiration guide you.”

  The musicians nodded, and Dhananad could not help but be impressed with her knowledge of Ayuri music theory.

  She returned to the center of the room and bowed. “I will dance The Loves of Prince Aralas. It recounts the story of the elf angel who fell in love with eight human girls, thereby establishing the alliances that helped overthrow the Tivari during the War of Ancient Gods.”

  A dance of love! Albeit with a tragic ending, at least as recounted by the Ayuri storytellers. Perhaps the Cathayi had a different take. At the very least, the theme was obvious: she was dreaming of their marriage!

  The girl drifted into a pose, forming an elegant curve reminiscent of an elephant tusk. Her right arm floated upwards with her palm facing to the heavens and delicate fingers gracefully bent. Her other arm sank low as if cradling a giant ball. Both the free end of her makeshift sari and her hair cascaded behind her. The shift in the langa exposed the perfect arc of her calf, and the choli rose to allow her navel to peek out. Had he been sitting in the right place, he could have snuck a glance at the luscious valley between her breasts. Soon enough.

  She gave no signal, yet her movement and the tune started in perfect synchronicity. Had the musicians reacted so fast, or had she been moved by the melody? The flavor of the dance was decidedly foreign, and yet harmonized with the local style of music.

  The langa around her legs should’ve restricted her mobility. Yet she seemed to swim through it as she wafted across the floor, like a fluffy cloud on a perfect day, blown by the strumming of the sitar and transforming to the beat of the drums. It seemed gravity itself had paused to admire her, allowing her to achieve impossible feats of balance and flexibility.

  The symbiosis between musicians and dancer caused the seconds to blur into minutes, minutes into hours. Dhananad sighed. It was like experiencing the legend firsthand, through the eyes of the dashing
elf angel (how appropriate!). His beauty, reflected in the enchanted eyes of the ancient human princesses; the ecstasy among lovers; and at last, the melancholy as they aged and died while he remained youthful.

  The music slowed to a stop, guiding the girl to the floor in a tangle worthy of a yoga guru.

  Yet it was Dhananad whose stomach twisted in knots. His heart hammered in his chest. A few minutes of utter silence followed, interrupted only by an occasional bird chirp and the shifting of the Golden Scorpion. He looked out the arched window toward the Iridescent Moon, which had passed through two phases in the blink of an eye. It would have required a monumental reserve of stamina to dance as the princess had for so long. He rose from the chair, ready to help the girl to her feet.

  To his surprise, she spun up unto her toes, appearing as energized as if just waking to the morning sun. When she batted her lashes at him, he knew then he would do anything she asked.

  He applauded, followed by the musicians and even the Teleri troublemaker. Dhananad said, “I have never experienced such a dance. You, my lady, give sound a shape, a tangible form.”

  Sweet Kaiya bowed again before returning to her seat. With dainty grace, she took up a glass and sipped some water. When she smiled again, he thought his heart would stop. She gestured toward the west windows. The sun, now meeting the Shallowsea, flooded the room with red rays of dusk.

  “Alas, Prince Dhananad,” she said, her very inflection of his name sending sparks up his spine. “Time is short, for I have been invited to dine with the maharaja of Vadara tonight.”

  Dhananad waved his hand, even if his chest felt squeezed by her imminent departure. “Well then, I look forward to seeing you again.”

  The Golden Scorpion prodded his back. “The Princess of Cathay did not respond to your proposal,” she said, voice silky. “She should not leave until she answers.”