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

by JC Kang

  Kaiya now rode in the palanquin, struggling in the tight confines to strip off her gown. Had they really hidden a hundred muskets in here? Her fingers trembled as she wrapped a broad cloth around her bosom several times to flatten it out as best she could. Lastly, she squirmed into the simple brown robes of the Hua monks who wandered the lands.

  The light filtering in through the palanquin windows darkened. Her soldiers’ footsteps echoed on stone floors. They must have entered the long tunnel through the northern gate. Shouts erupted from up ahead.

  Then the procession ground to a halt.

  Jie looked up at the ninety-foot watchtower above the northern gatehouse. She had snuck up there one afternoon and enjoyed the spectacular view of the northern coast. Yet today, it cast a shadow over the bustling northern marketplace. She shivered and returned to the task at hand, wondering why the princess’ procession had not yet arrived.

  Jie had come at dawn to set up a stand selling pork buns, right by the side of the main road. It provided a good line of sight into the gatehouse tunnel, where Tian waited, dressed as a wandering monk.

  The Nothori people apparently had little interest in pork buns, a favorite among the Hua. Even if hawking fattening snacks wasn’t her real purpose in being there, the slow business was disappointing. It did, however, give her plenty of time to glance over at Tian. Once the princess had safely boarded the Golden Phoenix and he returned to the embassy, they’d have plenty of time to sort out whatever it was between them. Her heart fluttered.

  They had to get the princess on the ship first, though, which meant focusing on the task at hand. Just after giving a repeat customer a generous deal, Jie’s ears perked. The boots of marching men approached. At last! They were behind schedule. She craned her neck to get a clear line of sight on Tian.

  There was his signal. Jie grabbed ahold of a citizen who had the misfortune of passing by at the wrong moment. Who cared if he had little interest in pork buns? “You! Give it back! That’s eight copper kroon.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Jie shoved him. “The pork bun. You took one of my pork buns!”

  The man stepped back, hands raised. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t eat that junk anyway! And it’s not worth eight coppers.”

  Bystanders gathered around and pointed, while Iksuvi soldiers tried to clear the way.

  Jie only argued louder. She deftly kicked out the legs of her stand, sending pork buns rolling into the road. Street urchins scrambled forward to capture the delicious prizes.

  General Zheng marched to the head of the procession, now stalled by Jie’s show, to snarl at her in the Arkothi tongue. “Clear the road, woman! Your princess is passing through.”

  Jie cursed him and all of his ancestors with Arkothi vulgarities that surpassed the limitation of Hua’s sterile language. A large crowd pushed forward to watch, pointing and laughing at the fracas.

  Jie smiled. Mission accomplished. The Teleri Nightblade she’d been eyeing had missed the exchange.

  Tian had waited in the northern gate tunnel with a real Hua monk, begging for alms as people passed. Both wore long, round straw hats whose brims sank down to eye level, though Tian’s long hair made it difficult to secure. Besides a walking staff, the only other weapon he carried was a concealed dagger and several throwing biao.

  Travelers were sparse, donations even sparser. If he had to wait much longer in the musty chill, he’d catch a cold. Not to mention the princess might not make her ship. She was already an hour behind schedule.

  At last, her procession came through. It stopped and she stepped out of the palanquin. The monk handed her his hat, revealing his bald head. She put it on, tilting it forward so that her face was slightly covered. All performed with admirable precision.

  When she’d finished stuffing her hair in the cone, she placed a letter in his hand. “Have this delivered to the ambassador immediately.”

  The monk nodded as he bent into the palanquin. Tian looked through the tunnel, into the city.

  Just in time. Up ahead, the Iksuvi soldiers had restored order. With loud shouts and a little jostling, they cleared a path through the streets and the procession continued. As the crowds dispersed, Tian guided Kaiya through the northern gate and into the city.

  He looked up at the Iridescent Moon, already waxing to its fourth crescent. They were running well behind schedule. Not a word passed between them as they walked toward the eastern gate, briskly heading south along the main road that ran from the northern gate to the southern gate. They turned east on a ring road that bypassed the city center and intersected with the main east-west road.

  Tian stole glances at the handful of people they passed along the way. They didn’t pick up any followers; at least this part of the plan was working. Not only that, they were making up for lost time. They would make it.

  Waiting at the intersection of the ring road and the east-west road were the princess’ five most senior guards, all dressed as monks: Chen Xin, the leader, followed by Zhao Yue, Ma Jun, Li Wei, and Xu Zhan. They dropped to a knee, right fists to the ground.

  Unbelievable. Eyes darting left and right, Tian beckoned them to their feet. Leave it to an imperial guard to expose their disguise. Luckily, the streets were nearly deserted.

  Chen Xin bowed his head. “There are rumors that the Teleri western army is about to pass through Aremarela. If it is true, they must have moved their timetable up.”

  Tian shook his head. They couldn’t risk crossing the bridge into Teleri and running into an army. Picturing the area in his head, he drew up a new plan. “We pass through the southern gate. There’s a fishing village on the Iksuvi side of the river. About fifteen li south. Not far from Aremarela on the opposite bank. We can commandeer a fishing boat. Then row back up.”

  Xu Zhan growled. “We need to meet up with the stablemaster, who is waiting with horses outside of the eastern gate.” Always pugnacious, Xu would likely prefer to test his sword against the entire Teleri division instead of running away from them.

  Li Wei counted on his fingers. “It will take too long to row from the village to Aremarela. Our horses wouldn’t be fast enough to ride from the eastern gate to the southern gate, and then down to the village anyway.” If there was anyone who expected anything and everything to go wrong, it was him. The unforeseen change only validated his bleak outlook on life.

  The princess sighed. “Your plan has failed, Zheng Tian. We should just head back to the safety of the embassy.”

  Tian’s mind ran calculations. “We can’t hole up in the embassy indefinitely. The Teleri will lay siege. We must press on with this plan. Let’s hasten to the Kanin Embassy. They’re no friends of the Teleri. And the ambassador was impressed by the princess. If they loan us some of their horses, we can make it.”

  Ma Jun, the opposite of his best friend Li, was always optimistic. “Dian-xia, the idea is sound. We will make it.”

  All attention turned to the princess.

  “We will never make it in time.” Li Wei shook his head.

  Tian pursed his lips. It was a sound plan. It would work.

  The princess’ eyes searched his. “Very well. To the Kanin embassy.”

  The Kanin compound was located just off of the ring road, in the southeast section of the Old City. It took fifteen minutes, and they arrived as the Iridescent Moon waxed halfway between its fourth and fifth crescents. Still more than enough time.

  Except for the gate guards doubting that the ragged monk before their eyes was the Princess of Cathay. She removed her hat and shook out her hair, and the gaping guards allowed them entry. Tian glanced back at the handful of passersby. Hopefully, no one had seen her.

  They were brought to a comfortable receiving room, where Tian planted himself by a window. The floors were uncarpeted stone, and oil paintings of scenes from the Kanin plains hung on the walls. The princess examined the portrait of their rugged king, whose likeness gazed over the entire room.

  Tian fidgeted. Zhuyue wa
s passing its fifth crescent. This was taking too long. Perhaps Ambassador Manuwaya had already started drinking.

  The old man shuffled in with a red face and a wide smile. Tian gritted his teeth. Suspicions confirmed.

  “Welcome, welcome!” the ambassador said. “We are honored by your visit. Though you are certainly curiously dressed. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  The princess stood up and bowed. “Ambassador, I have some important information, and also a humble request of your great kingdom. The Teleri Empire will be invading Iksuvius with overwhelming force tonight, while the Kingdom of Lietuvi will cross the southern border in support. Iksuvi’s days are numbered.”

  Ambassador Manuwaya stared at her, his eyes shifting to Tian.

  Tian nodded. Of course the ambassador would trust him. They’d worked together many times. Now if only the princess would hurry up with that humble request.

  “In addition,” she said, “The Teleri First Consul is plotting to take me hostage, and plans for my escape have run into unforeseen obstacles. I beg you to please provide us with horses, since your great steeds are the only ones fast enough to reach our rendezvous point in time.”

  The ambassador nodded his head. “Of course, of course, my dear. We certainly cannot allow a precious jewel like you to fall into the hands of the Teleri! No telling what demands they will make of your father.”

  Tian shuffled on his feet. The First Consul probably had other plans for the princess. The leverage he wanted had little to do with politics.

  The princess bowed at the waist. “I will never forget this. When I reach the safety of Cathay, I will ask my father to send me personally to Kanin to deliver a set of our finest teacups. I extend my deepest thanks and appreciation for your help.”

  The ambassador provided them with seven horses. The Hua packed away their monks’ clothes, then donned black-lacquered leather jerkins and painted red Kanin symbols on their face. Armed with borrowed cavalry sabers, lances, and short bows, they would hopefully pass as a Kanin patrol.

  It helped that the Hua and Kanin people looked similar to the untrained eye. Tian’s were not untrained, however—to him, each difference was glaring as a noon sun. Someone would notice. And the Iridescent Moon had already waxed past its fifth crescent. Almost no margin of error.

  “It is not too late to turn back to the embassy,” Li Wei said.

  Tian eyed his enormous horse, famed for its speed. “It’s not too late to make it, either.” Even with the time wasted at the Kanin embassy.

  CHAPTER 21:

  Personality Clashes

  Kaiya’s ears rang from the constant pounding of horse hooves on the paved highway. In fact, her entire body vibrated after an hour of hard riding. Their Kanin guide looked none the worse for wear, unlike her tired guards. He’d had to stop several times to allow them to catch up.

  She cast a jealous eye at him as the journal of the famous Minister Deng Liansu came to mind.

  In all my travels, I was aided by the Kanin and their thoroughbreds. Though trapped between the Ayuri and Arkothi empires, the Kanin empire has maintained its nominal independence through a series of shrewd, if brazen, switches of allegiance. None of Tivara's people can raise the horse like they, born in the saddle, learning to ride before they walk. A Kanin, it is said, stands on his own four feet.

  Wherever this ride ended, she probably wouldn’t be able to stand on two feet.

  Despite Tian’s concerns and Li Wei’s pessimism, they didn’t encounter any problems, either in the city or the fields and woods on the way to the village. A windswept wooden sign at the outskirts named the community as Gaukaimos. Dirt roads crisscrossed the paved highway, lined by some hundred squat homes with thatched roofs.

  Kaiya wrinkled her nose. From what Tian had told her on the way, the locals farmed mollusks and fished for a living. The stink of shellfish left little doubt of that.

  When they came to a stone bridge over a stream, Kaiya looked up. Zhuyue was waxing to half-crescent. Her hands ached from gripping the reins so tightly, and her heart raced. There was very little time left.

  Tian led them down a dirt road to a stone-lined embankment. The top, some six feet above the water, gave a commanding view of the river. On the banks, children played and collected shells. Their laughter carried over the whisper of small waves lapping against the shore. Numerous boat landings jutted into the channel.

  Kaiya gasped. Plenty of fishing boats plied the waters, but none were moored to the docks. No way to cross the river to Aremarela. Maybe there was a boat within earshot. She scanned up and down the river.

  There, maybe five li southeast in Aremarela, the Golden Phoenix lifted anchor. With sails down and oars extended, it began heading downriver. Towards them! Sticking to the deep channel which cut unseen through the middle of the river, the ship’s course would take it right by. Maybe more than a li away from them, and closer to the Teleri shore, but surely the captain would send a boat out.

  Without waiting for her permission, Tian and her guards dismounted and ran down the closest dock. Kaiya’s heart soared, though she kept her demeanor calm as she followed. As the Golden Phoenix approached, they waved and yelled. Someone onboard would just have to see—

  Musket fire cracked, echoing across the water. Smoke rose from the ship. Another volley. Who were they shooting at?

  Tian patted at his leather jerkin, then withdrew a spyglass. He brought it to his eye, but then lowered the instrument and examined it. He shook his head. “Broken lens.”

  Broken lens? How could the supposedly brilliant planner not check his equipment? Kaiya looked back towards the ship, now speeding northward. “Can the horses swim out?”

  Their guide raised a hand. “No; even our best thoroughbreds would not make it before your ship passed.”

  “With the tide coming in,” Tian said, “the Phoenix would be stranded on the river for six hours. By then, every Bovyan within fifty-two li will know of your attack on the First Consul. The captain has no choice. He has to escape to open seas. And use the last rays of sun to help navigate the deep channel.”

  Li Wei threw his arms up. “I told you this wouldn’t work. Now they know we are here.”

  “No,” Tian said. “Not necessarily. The Golden Phoenix fired at the Teleri side of the river. It was anchored at a Teleri town. They would assume the princess was there. If not already on the ship.”

  Maybe. Still, Kaiya watched in despair as her means of escape disappeared north through the river, racing against time. For now, they were stuck in this backwater, fetid village, caught between a city in turmoil and the contingent of altivorcs approaching it.

  Sore all over, she sighed. They’d wasted too much time on the Heights, a half hour that could’ve been used to flee. Her decision. Her fault. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away, the coarse sleeve of the Kanin tunic scouring her skin.

  It wouldn’t do to let her retainers see her like this. Heavens, she’d confronted Avarax without melting into a quivering mass of tears. Straightening her back, she composed herself before facing them.

  “Be strong, Dian-xia.” Tian must have seen her crying. His encouraging tone rang with patronization, and his smile was forced. Be strong. Easy for him to say. She was the one who’d almost been violated, just three hours before. Who still faced that risk. The memory of the First Consul pressing against her sent a shudder through her body.

  Tian continued, inconsiderate and undeterred, “We should be safe here. For now. There was an inn. Near the entrance to the village. Let us rest there. Think of a new plan. At least there…we will avoid the chaos in Iksuvius tonight.”

  Kaiya bit her lower lip, fighting back more tears. Oh, to be safely home, where the food wouldn’t make her sick. Out of the reach of a Bovyan tyrant who planned to take a very personal revenge on her. Tian couldn’t understand. At least as a child, he would have tried.

  She nodded at his suggestion nonetheless. She couldn’t summon a dignified tone, and her voice sound
ed childlike in her ears. “Lead the way to the inn.”

  The Kanin Rider swept his hand out from his heart. “I will take your leave and return to the city. Do you wish me to bring any message to the ambassador?”

  She forced a brittle smile. “Please convey my gratitude to him.”

  “May the wind ever be at your back, Princess.” Waving his hand out in an arc, he spurred his horse north at full gallop.

  With Tian leading, they rode their borrowed horses towards the inn. Their motley crew attracted curious looks. They arrived as the sun winked out over the horizon.

  In the fading light, the inn appeared to be a decent size—the only two-story building in the village thus far—and made of wood planks that had weathered years of brackish winds. A faded sign hung above the door: The Hard Shell. The Arkothi words were painted in a simple hand below brightly colored images of various crustaceans and mollusks.

  Kaiya fought back the rebellion in her stomach. The name might refer to the food or the quality of bedding. Maybe both. Not much different from being aboard the Golden Phoenix, really, except for the danger of being captured and raped. Her insides twisted again. This danger… she’d invited it by doing the right thing and sparing Geros and his men. It was too unfair.

  A second look at the sign evoked another obvious shudder, her vulnerability on display. She lifted her chin and hid fragility behind stubborn conceit. “I can’t stay there. There has to somewhere else.”

  “Dian-xia. It’s dark now.” Tian shook his head, his tone reminiscent of a nursemaid. “The closest inn is back in the city. This will have to do.”

  Her shoulders trembled against her attempts to square them and suppress the sobs wracking her body. She let a cascade of hair hide her weakness.

  Tian dismounted and came to her, extending his hand. “Please. Let’s go in. Rest a while.” His short sentences, so endearing as a youth, now sounded like a rebuke.