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

by JC Kang

  Marius composed himself before they arrived at the gate, stiffening in his stance. “Ambassador Wu, the First Consul demands that you surrender the embassy and turn Princess Kaiya Wang over to us.”

  Ambassador Wu smiled grimly. “You know what our answer will be. You also know that your shields and armor cannot stop our firepowder. We have stores to last us a year.”

  “And what happens after a year, Ambassador? The First Consul is patient.”

  Ambassador Wu laughed. “Do you think the Son of Heaven will stand for you holding his beloved daughter hostage? Within a couple of months, expect an armada of warships on your coast with a flight of phoenixes ready to extract her.”

  Jie sucked on her lower lip. Hopefully, Marius would believe the bluff. Although Hua kept a handful of lesser phoenixes in the imperial aviary, they had limited endurance and range, and only flew during the New Year’s parade. The highly sensitive birds would never survive a trip by sea.

  Marius swept his arms outward. “We will flood the harbor with fire and fill the sky with enough crossbow bolts to blot out the sun.”

  “Then it looks like our negotiations have reached an impasse.” Ambassador Wu bowed his head.

  “I suggest you reconsider. I will give you until dawn.” Marius cast Jie one last look, his eyes round and wounded. Was it a sense of betrayal? Or pity? Or even concern? It was hard to tell in the twilight, where her elf vision didn’t work.

  As he turned around, she caught a glimpse of his shadow shifting out of sync with his movement.

  It was a Teleri Nightblade. And unlike the young men who failed to infiltrate the embassy, this one was very skilled. By the time she focused on the area, he was gone.

  CHAPTER 23:

  A Chance Meeting

  Dearest Kaiya,

  I never knew what it meant to be truly alive before I met you. During your diplomatic mission to Vyara City, when we were separated for a month, I felt so empty that the finest food and wine seemed flavorless, the most melodious music sounded flat, the most radiant painting colorless.

  I promised I would always follow you and protect you, and it pains me that duties in my province prevent me from joining you on your trip to the Nothori lands. Not just because I must break my promise, but because you are like the air to me. Please be safe on your journey. I am consoled by the hope that each morning I awake brings me a day closer to being with you again.

  Zheng Ming

  Tian had never thought of his brother as being truly romantic, beyond the dashing façade he presented. Nor was it typical for Hua people to express themselves in such a…personal manner. Did the princess feel the same way? She must, since she had kept the letter with her all this time. And why had he not heard about this already from Jie or his cousin, General Zheng?

  Tian could never expose his soul like that. If he did write something like that to Jie, she would probably punch him. Pondering the relationship between Eldest Brother and the princess, he went back to the inn.

  The suspicious man who’d been sleeping at the bar was gone. Tian pushed past the drunken revelers, approached the barkeep, and pointed to the empty seat. “Where did that man go?”

  The barkeeper looked around before beckoning Tian closer and whispering, “It was an altivorc. He went upstairs, where he’s staying in a private room. I hear from our patrons that there have been several altivorcs passing through this last week. Though for all I know, maybe it’s just one individual. They all look the same to me.”

  An altivorc! Likely an advance scout for the battalion, on its way to aid the Teleri in the subjugation of Iksuvi. While the Hua and Kanin peoples shared enough similarities that the locals probably couldn’t tell the difference, an altivorc scout would. He might not know their identity, but he would surely think it strange that there were Cathayi people masquerading as Kanin horsemen.

  Tian tapped his chin. If the altivorc knew about what had transpired on the Iksuvius Heights earlier that day…. No, impossible—the altivorcs were coming from the opposite direction.

  He pointed at the stairwell. “Are there any other ways to access the second floor?”

  The barkeep shook his head. “No, those steps are the only way.”

  “Besides us, who is staying here?” Tian produced a shiny silver coin to entice an answer.

  The coin disappeared into the man’s palm. “Besides your party in a common room and the altivorc in a private room, there is also a trifle guide and his three dark-skinned friends in two of the doubles.”

  Tian swept his gaze around the room to take stock of the patrons. Trifle and halfling were derogatory terms for the madaeri people, a short but good-looking race of non-humans. They were known to be excellent guides, scouts, and foragers, with ravenous appetites and something of an inferiority complex. Hailing from the Eldaeri Northwest, this one was a long way from home. As for the dark-skinned clients, could they be the mysterious Aksumi people? Or the pious Levanthi? Or perhaps the Ayuri? They probably wouldn’t be in league with the altivorcs.

  Tian motioned Ma Jun over. “There’s an altivorc scout. Staying here. He might know who we are. Keep watch on the stairs. Let me know if he comes down. Or if anyone else goes up. The rest of us shall retire. In two hours, someone will come down to relieve you.”

  Ma Jun nodded. “We should allow the princess to sleep by herself.”

  So loyal. And impractical. Tian shook his head. Since they’d planned to board the Golden Phoenix— “We don’t have much money. Not enough for a separate room. She’ll have to make do.”

  “The men are willing to exchange our rings for their finest private room.” Ma Jun held up a thick silver ring cast with the dragon crest of Hua, the mark of the imperial guard.

  Tian stared at the symbol, which a guard would never sell, even if he came on hard times. To think they would sacrifice it for the princess’ comfort. Sadly, in Nothori lands where the significance meant nothing, their rings would be no more valuable than their weight in silver. Not to mention it would draw undue attention to them.

  “That will not be necessary,” the princess said, approaching from behind. The squeak in her voice was gone, replaced by a regal, albeit tired tone. “I would not sacrifice your badge of honor just for my own privacy for one night. I will retire for the evening. Please give me some time to myself before following.”

  The imperial guards, who had gathered around, reflexively bowed despite Tian’s orders. She disappeared up the stairs, the graceful float in her step replaced by a defeated trudge.

  There was still the altivorc up there. Tian gestured for Ma Jun to follow. “Stand guard. Outside the door.”

  The rest returned to their table, mood somber amidst the merriment of a growing crowd. Tian leaned back and watched the entire room, noting comings and goings, and paying particular attention to the stairs.

  Before long, a short figure descended the steps. At first glance, a child; but on further observation, undoubtedly the madaeri guide the barkeeper had spoken of. The diminutive fellow climbed up to a barstool and ordered a long list of food. Patrons shifted away from him.

  Even if his group had no relevance to their current predicament, a guide would know more about the area. Tian motioned for his companions to wait at the table. Withdrawing his map of the region, he slipped through the boisterous villagers and sidled up to the madaeri.

  The little man was no different from most of his kind: fair, with short-cropped hair that emphasized his pointed ears. Light skin and sharp features gave him a passing resemblance to a certain half-elf. A long dagger was tucked into a broad leather belt, which held up black cotton pants. A greenish-brown traveling cloak draped over a dull brown shirt.

  The madaeri turned and faced him. “I’ve walked from one coast to the other,” he said in very loud Arkothi, “been to the icy rim in the far north and the sweltering heat of the deep south. Never in my life have I seen a Cathayi looking so ridiculous wearing a mismatched suit of Kanin armor. Even your sword is on the wrong side!�
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  Tian gaped, and then looked down at his sword, sheathed on his left. “Um, I’m left-handed,” he said, his voice about two decibels lower than the guide.

  The madaeri laughed from his belly. When he spoke, it was in a big voice that did not seem to match his size. “No, you’re not.”

  Some of the bar patrons now looked in their direction.

  Heat rose to Tian’s face. Usually, it was he who prodded information out of people, either through trickery or by not-so-friendly means, not the other way around. “Lower your voice a little. We are trying to keep a—”

  “Low profile?” the madaeri whispered, lifting his shoulders and ducking his head. “You’re not doing a good job of that, at least not to someone who has any amount of world experience. Luckily, I am probably the only one in this room with that. You could do better, but you would need some actual training.”

  Tian held back a retort. “My name is Tian. Come join us at our table. I have a proposition for you. I would like to discuss it in confidence.”

  “My name is Fleet, short for a much longer name that you won’t be able to pronounce or remember, so we’ll just keep it at that. Any chance I could get you to pay for my meal here?” Fleet jerked a thumb toward the kitchen.

  Tian cringed. It would be expensive, but worth it. Madaeri were compulsive information-gatherers. Dangle some rumors in front of him and they would find out plenty in return. “Let’s talk first. I have earth-moving information.”

  Fleet turned to the barkeeper. “Bring my food to this fine gentleman’s table.” He hopped off the stool and extended his hand. “Lead the way, friend!”

  “So where are you taking your clients?” Tian asked on their way to the table.

  Fleet’s jovial tone turned grave. “I’m not allowed to speak regarding these types of business transactions. Wouldn’t you expect your privacy protected if the roles were reversed? Perhaps you can ask them directly.”

  Arriving at the table, he looked around. “Interesting, Cathayi imperial guard, also in poor disguise. Which one of you is the dignitary?” He cast a glance at Tian, scrunched his forehead up, and then shook his head. “Not you, obviously.”

  The guards shuffled uncomfortably but remained silent, all glaring at the madaeri.

  He pointed to the princess’ untouched clams. “Anyone eating this?”

  Tian nodded “Help your—”

  The clams disappeared into the madaeri’s mouth, shells and all. The entire table gawked at him.

  “What?” With a wounded expression, Fleet shrugged. “I grew up in a big family where we had to fight for the food. You learn to eat fast.”

  Tian waved off the madaeri’s protests. “No, eat. We need to confirm the accuracy. Of a map. Your people are the best mapmakers.” He unfurled the paper and spread it out on the table.

  Fleet munched on potatoes, his eyes darting over the markings. He shook his head and looked up. “Was this map made before or after the Hellstorm?”

  Tian scowled. The final episode of the conflict between the Ayuri and Arkothi empires, three centuries prior, had drastically transformed the landscape. His map couldn’t be that bad. He opened his mouth to answer.

  “It was a rhetorical question,” Fleet said. “Your map is definitely outdated. I can certainly spruce this sad rag up…for the right price.” The quill the princess had used now twirled between his fingers.

  Tian pursed his lips. “We are short on funds. Is there something else?”

  “A woman, perhaps? This quill sure smells nice.” The madaeri took a long, deep sniff of the feathers.

  All three guards sprang to their feet, hands on their weapons, knocking chairs over and startling all the patrons into silence. Fleet didn’t flinch. Tian put his hands up, tacitly telling the soldiers to stand down.

  Fleet chuckled and fanned himself with the map. “A dead madaeri can’t fix this antique for your pretty princess.”

  “Princess?” Tian feigned shock.

  “Why else would Cathayi imperial guard react that way?”

  The madaeri was good. It was useless trying to hide anything from him. Might as well confirm it. Tian leaned in. “Our guards are devoted to their princess. I implore you. For your own sake. Don’t speak ill of her.” He motioned again for the soldiers to sit down.

  Fleet scratched his head. “Alright, how about this: you tell me something interesting, and I’ll make revisions to the map based on the value of what you tell me.”

  Tian nodded. “That’s fair. Here’s a tidbit: Teleri will invade Iksuvi tonight.”

  Fleet whistled. The guards gritted their teeth, probably because of the Hua belief that whistling at night attracted ghosts. Unfazed, he inked the quill with several blots, and extended a road that ran from Iksuvius along the coast of Cold Harbor.

  Tian smiled. The road reached all the way to the head of the bay, which might be a place they could catch up with the Golden Phoenix if they rode hard enough. “The First Consul of the Teleri Directori. He’s here himself.”

  Fleet nodded, and put a dot and notation on the map, in the woods they had passed through earlier today: Good mushrooms here.

  “Come on! That information is valuable!”

  “But something I’d already guessed.” Fleet grinned and rubbed his hands. “All the Teleri activity, plus the amazing procession at the Great East Gate a couple of days ago… But you get the idea: the quality of your information begets the quality of mine.”

  The back-and-forth continued for a while, with the madaeri adding all kinds of notes, roads, and information to the map, while Tian shared intelligence about troop strengths and movements.

  At last, Fleet said, “Look, I can add so much more to this map, but at this rate, we won’t be done until the Orc Gods return on their blazing chariots. Stories say that the only daughter of Emperor Wang is an unparalleled beauty, who sang a dragon into a stupor. Let me see her face, and I’ll update everything I know.”

  Was it worth the risk? There was little they could do to keep the madaeri from hanging around and seeing her anyway.

  Something flashed by the staircase. Fleet’s head turned, and Tian’s followed.

  Another figure descended the stairs. He wore a dark cloak which covered nearly his entire body, with a hood pulled over his head.

  The madaeri and his requests could wait. Tian motioned towards the guards with hand signals. Block exit, flank, I take.

  None of the imperial guards budged.

  Of course not.

  Fleet’s jaw dropped. “No, no, that’s my client. She’s no threat to you.” He beckoned her over.

  The cloaked figure approached the table, lowering the hood to reveal an attractive young woman with a light chocolate complexion and piercing dark eyes. She had coarse, wavy black hair which fell to the middle of her back. Aksumi. They rarely left their city-states in the south, and Tian had never seen one before.

  The imperial guards, however, rose to their feet. In unison, they each pressed a fist into a palm.

  “Lady Brehane,” Li Wei said.

  “Wei,” she said with a toothy smile and a thick accent. “And Yue.”

  Tian’s gaze shifted from Brehane to the imperial guards. How could this be? From the way Fleet’s eyes bolted back and forth, he must have been just as surprised.

  The Aksumi woman counted on her fingers. “But where are Jun, Xin, Zhan, and Ming? And little Jie?” Her eyes locked in on Tian.

  Such a piercing stare. Tian shuffled on his feet. Brehane extended her open hands towards him, and he looked at Fleet with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s their custom to clasp hands at their first meeting.” The madaeri encouraged Tian with a tilt of his head.

  Tian tentatively took Brehane’s hands in his own. “I am Tian Zheng. I am honored to meet you.”

  Brehane held his hands and showed no signs of letting go. “Mister Tian, the honor is mine. I trust you and your family are doing well?”

  What a strange question. “We are all w
ell,” he said. Eldest Brother most of all, apparently.

  Another smile bloomed on her face. “You are Ming’s brother, aren’t you? I can see the resemblance. Which means you’re the one Little Jie…”

  Tian’s face flushed hot enough to fry an egg. Usually, he knew more about people than they did of him. And the unspoken part about Jie. He turned to see the imperial guards’ lips quivering into half-grins. “Yes. Ming’s brother.”

  “Better looking, too. I can see why Little Jie—”

  Tian coughed. “How do you know my brother? And the imperial guards?”

  She nodded in the direction of the men. “We shared an adventure not four months ago.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I am deeply indebted to them. Their swordsmanship, Ming’s bow, and Little Jie’s charm,” she winked, “saved our mission.”

  Tian turned to the imperial guards. The smiles disappeared and they snapped to attention. There was a story here, one that he would pry out of the tight-lipped men. He looked back at her. “What brings you so far north? You are far from home.”

  Brehane sat down uninvited at the table and regarded him with curious eyes. She then turned to Fleet, who nodded. “What do you know about my people?”

  Tian shrugged his shoulders. “Your people are the greatest magicians. You can bend the laws of nature. To suit your needs.”

  Brehane clasped a clear crystal that hung from a silver chain around her neck. “Some of what you know is true. Almost all of our women can sense the energy of the universe. Most only dabble. However, there are a very small number of truly wise and wondrous Mystics. I am an initiate into the Order of Mystics.”

  Her words sucked Tian in, the rest of the room and revelers fading into the background. “Both my order and the Order of Ayuri Paladins have noticed that there are places in the world where our connection to the world’s energy has weakened. My Paladin companion and I are charged with visiting the holiest places, where magic has always been the strongest—”