by G R Matthews
“Why? We could use their help right now.”
“I don't know. The few I know of are still studying the world. Trying to refine their understanding and describe its complexity. They can't do that surrounded by us, by other people who are always changing or demanding things from them.”
“But we have to ask them, surely.”
“I know the whereabouts of just one from my Master's time. If needs must, I will call on him, but that is a last resort. I would sooner not see him again.” Boqin turned back to face Zhou. “I will talk to the others later. It may be that they know of Wu that can be summoned to help. I know that some are on their way or have already arrived in the spirit to defend the mountain.”
“Boqin, these old Wu…” Zhou stopped as Xióngmāo raised her hand and Boqin's eyes turned flinty.
“Zhou, let it go,” Xióngmāo said.
“Perhaps we are searching the wrong way. You have begun with some of the oldest writings. You'll spend more time translating and making sense of the old language than actually getting information out of them. Start with the more modern writing. They will have been based on, and developed from, the old research.” Boqin pointed to the scrolls still in the recesses. “You might have more luck with them. I need to get some rest. Bring anything you find to the council chamber this evening.”
Boqin picked his way out of the library, his shadow diminishing as he descended the stairs. Zhou took a last look at the scroll in his hands before rolling it back up and replacing it in its case.
“Do you know the Wu who Boqin spoke of? The one he has yet to ask for help.” Zhou asked.
“Yes, I do,” she responded.
“And?”
“And, if he comes we will know it. He is a powerful Wu, though he has stayed away from us for many years,” Xióngmāo said.
“What else?”
“Maybe Boqin was right,” Xióngmāo said as she picked up another scroll and scanned it. “These scrolls are not helping.”
Zhou stared at Xióngmāo's profile for a moment, pondering. “Which of these scrolls are Boqin's master’s? Let's start with those and work backwards.”
Xióngmāo pointed to one section of the honeycombed wall. “The ones with the yellow ribbons.”
* * *
Wisps of smoke rose from the candles and clay oil lamps in alcoves, adding to the soot stains that already coated the dark ceiling. Against the far wall, the long, sinuous body of a dragon coiled around a bowl of bronze as large as a farmer’s cart. The walls were made of natural stone, speckled grey and white, ground and polished to a smooth finish. The room itself was long and narrow, floor curved into wall and wall into ceiling without a break. Near the bronze bowl, a row of carved wooden benches provided the seating for the few men and women that had attended. Boqin stood and paced in front of them all. His frame looked tense and his movements rushed.
Zhou walked the length of the room, trailing his fingers against the stone walls marvelling at their smoothness. The artisans of Wubei would have paid a fortune for this stone and spent years polishing it to such a finish. Xióngmāo walked ahead of him, her long robe whispering across the floor.
“I’ve never seen stone like this before,” Zhou said to her, pointing to the wall with one end of the short staff he carried.
“Most the mountain is made of it,” Xióngmāo said, giving the staff a disapproving look.
“Really? How is it that it is both black and white?” Zhou stopped and peered at one section. “They seem to be separate bits of rock but all joined and jumbled together.”
“You are asking the wrong person,” she responded. “If you are interested, there is a set of scrolls about it in the library. Biānfú did some digging around in the mountain caves a century or two ago. Stop inspecting the stone and let’s show Boqin what we have found.”
Zhou dragged his attention away from the polished walls and with a few quick steps caught up to her. He reached into his robe and pulled forth the scrolls found in the library. Two of them were tied with yellow ribbon and the third with white.
“Our researchers have arrived.” Boqin waved a hand to introduce Zhou and Xióngmāo to the other Wu.
Zhou nodded to them all, noting that all of them looked weary. Indeed one or two looked on the edge of sleep. “Boqin, Xióngmāo and I have searched the archives and scrolls for any information on the attack, the red flame or the horse creatures that attacked us. We didn’t find anything for a long time, however, we did discover a mention in one scroll,” Zhou held up the first scroll bound with the yellow ribbon, “that confirmed the thought that there was only one of each spirit. That all the animals of our world are a reflection of that true spirit. Another scroll,” he held up the other yellow tied scroll, “documents research into the journey between the realms.”
Boqin held up a hand and Zhou came to halt. “You are referring to the research my master carried out? The work that led to the creation of the stairs.”
Zhou nodded. “In one of the notes, he speaks about his first work on the stairs and how, in one trial, an early one, he is unable to get past the void and is thrown backwards.”
“I remember it,” Boqin nodded. “A simple fix. We had to attune the step a little more finely. I don’t recall anything about horse creatures.”
“There is not. But, he mentions an after-image of bright red in his eyes that lasted for some time after the journey failed.” Zhou shrugged. “It is the only reference we could find that mentions the colour red.”
“Not a lot to go on.” Boqin began pacing. “I was hoping for a little more.”
“Well...” Zhou paused, “someone else seems to have used your master’s research.” Zhou held up the scroll with the white ribbon tied around it.
“How did you find those?” Boqin stopped pacing and fixed Zhou with a fierce stare. The seated Wu all turned to stare at him. “And why are you carrying that staff. I told you it was to be placed under lock and key until you were fully trained and ready to make your own way in the world. We do not permit her sort to have purchase on the mountain.”
“I showed him where the scrolls were,” Xióngmāo said and Boqin fell silent for a moment.
“The writer of that is no longer one of us,” Boqin snarled.
“Yes, he is,” Xióngmāo said in a calm tone. “Let go of your anger for moment and listen to what the scroll says.”
Zhou held his breath and waited as Boqin stood silent, only the twitches around his eyes betraying the battle inside.
“Read it.” Boqin turned his back on Zhou and the others.
“The scroll details a journey through the spirit realm and an attempt to capture one, for study.” Zhou’s voice echoed despite the whispered tone. “The author notes that though it was not a successful... hunt, he is sure of his methods and expects to succeed soon. From what I can gather, he wanted to test the links between the true spirit and its reflections. Whether changing one would be a change for all.”
There was a gasp of indrawn breath from some of the seated Wu, others looked away.
“That is why he is no longer part of us,” Boqin placed his hands on the bronze bowl. “In all honesty, I did not know he had got so far as trying to capture one. He did a lot of his research in private and spoke sparingly about it during the council meetings. Infrequent as they were, even then.”
“What happened to him?”
“I cast him out of our community.” Boqin did not turn back to them. “I found out about his research and raised it a meeting. There was a great argument. A lot was said that can never be changed and, with the backing of the other Wu, I sent him away. There was nothing else we could do. His research was a betrayal of the spirits and all we held dear.”
“Why did you keep his research?” Zhou asked. “Surely destroying it would have been wiser?”
“That is our fault, mine, my masters and his before him. All knowledge is sacred, it advances our understanding of the world. I had it bound in white ribbon and sealed away. I
had hoped that anyone stumbling over it would recognise the ribbon for what it was; the colour of life passing, of death and grief.”
“I’ve seen enough of death,” Zhou whispered.
“Then you should have left those alone. It’s all they can bring.”
“Boqin, it is time to let it go. You know as well as I do that if we need him, he will come,” Xióngmāo said.
“I don’t want him here.” Boqin finally turned back to them.
“If we are attacked again, we might need him.” Xióngmāo walked through a gap in the benches to stand in front of the hulking man. She looked up into his eyes. “He will come if you call him, if you ask him.”
“I can’t.” Boqin placed his hands on Xióngmāo’s shoulders. “You know I can’t.”
“Boqin,” Xióngmāo said softly, “you might have to.”
Chapter 10
“Haung, a Taiji is a rare man. What many see, and are jealous of, are the martial skills. There are many men, and women, who would like to be as dangerous and powerful as a fully trained Taiji. What they don’t see is the mind and soul in balance, or the amount of effort and dedication that goes into achieving it. The Yin-Yang was devised by the first Taiji masters as a symbol of that balance. Over the years, nobles have approached me to train their sons and I have always turned them away. Likely it is one of those who spoke to your wife. Take care around the noble houses and their sons. A more poisonous nest of snakes you will never find.” Shifu set the cup of tea back down on to the table.
Haung sighed. “I had hoped that in moving here, away from the intrigues that were bound to surround Weyl’s elevation to Duke, my family would find some peace.”
“In that case, you came to the wrong city,” Shifu chuckled. “In the home of the Emperor, all people are seeking power and position.”
“I’m not.”
“Ah, but you had both thrust upon you. To the nobles you are one to watch.”
“As long as that is all they do.” Haung took a drink of his tea.
“Haung, you are training to be a Taiji and are already a fully trained Jiin-Wei. It is very unlikely that any noble would try anything directly. Add the Emperor’s favour you currently enjoy and they would be fearful of any repercussions. The Emperor is not renowned for his tolerance of betrayal. I would consider you safe, but still I would take care.”
Haung sat back against the wooden chair and stared at the ceiling for a short time. “If you had to make a guess, your best guess, which noble family would be the most likely to be interested in my well-being and training?”
Shifu shook his head. “Haung, you are not in the Jiin-Wei now and I must caution you against the course of action you seem to be contemplating.”
“Humour me?” Haung said.
“This will not end well. The noble families guard their wealth and power ruthlessly.” Shifu’s eyes held a sadness that Haung could not read.
“I am in control of my own fate, Shifu. I will not allow anyone to threaten my family ever again.” Haung paused to give Shifu a chance to speak but the older man stayed quiet. “I promise not to take any direct action without talking it over with you first. I just want to do some poking around.”
“Hmmm...” Shifu muttered. The old man stared deep into Haung’s eyes and the ex-Jiin-Wei shuffled in his seat. “There five main families, all others are tied in one way or another to those. The first, and currently the most powerful, are the Zhuhou. They have many nobles who are close to the Emperor or in positions of power, mostly in the treasury. They are comfortable in power. A Taiji would be the nice addition to their ranks, but they have not pushed the issue.”
“So not them,” Haung smiled.
“Not them.” Shifu returned a slight smile as he took a sip of his cooling tea. “The second family are the Qing. They have been second to the Zhuhou for many years and seem content with their lot. There are court whispers that the families are to be joined by marriage within the year. Nothing unheard of or special in that. Many times all five families have formed alliances of convenience by marriage.”
“Are they likely to be interested in me?”
“Haung, they are all likely to be interested in you. That is the nature of the game they play.”
“Who is third?”
“The third are the Daifu. Traditionally, sons of the Daifu enter military service and would be the most interested in adding the skills of a Taiji to their family. It is the main reason I have always refused.”
“So it could be them.” Haung sat forward.
“It might be, but they are a military family. They have generals and even some Jiin-Wei in their ranks. If it is them, you would need to be especially careful in your ‘poking around’.”
“Fourth?”
“The Shi. They are mostly administrators. Don’t be fooled by that though. A shrewd family with an almost unrivalled knowledge of the way the empire works. They know where all the secrets are kept,” Shifu said.
“And?”
“What? Yes, they could be interested in you. After all, you are a puzzle. A soldier from the province given to me, by the Emperor, to train as a Taiji. I can imagine them scurrying about trying to find out why,” Shifu said.
“So them then?”
“The fifth family are the Shumin. They are the least powerful and mostly concerned with trade, so they deal with the Shi for permits, the military for protection and the treasury for taxes. They are reliant on all the others.”
“You never mentioned what the Qing do,” Haung said.
“Most interestingly, they have spread their skills across many areas of government and civilian life. Skilled at everything and masters of nothing.” Shifu waved his hand is a vague gesture.
“So which family?”
“None of them, all of them, one of them,” Shifu said. “I don’t know. All I do know is that you are trained to seek out the secrets and I can’t stop you. You have all the information I can give. What you do with it is up to you, but please be careful.”
* * *
“General, what have you to report?” the Emperor said.
“My lord, the wall remains secure,” the general, dressed in his long silk robe of rank, spoke in a dry voice.
“I am pleased to hear that, General. I was hoping for a little more information than that.” The Emperor sat forward in his throne. “The latest report from the city of Yaart tells us that the number of refugees reaching them has slowed. Which we consider to be good news given the pressures on their food supplies.”
“My lord,” a thin man sat at a table piled high with scrolls said. “We have purchased all of the recent imports of rice from across the delta lands to the west. The cost was somewhat above our estimates, but it is a sellers’ market at the moment.”
“The treasury will meet the extra costs,” said a third man who sat at another table in the large room. His voice carried a note of resignation.
“The traders thank you for your generosity, my lord.”
“I am glad we can support the new Duke of Yaart in his endeavour to prevent the spread of famine, disease and discontent to the wider empire.” The Emperor stood and stepped down from the dais upon which the throne was set. “Now that we have that out of the way, General, I remain interested in the details of your report.”
“Yes, my lord.” The general returned to his table and picked up a scroll, unfurled it and read it quickly. “It appears that, though the wall gates remain open, the number of refugees has slowed in the past month. Those questioned have reported an army on the march, my lord.”
“You mean the refugees?” the Emperor asked and the general nodded, “and do these refugees postulate a destination for this army?”
“The reports seem to suggest that the army is moving south towards the wall and laterally west and east. We suspect that other countries, in those directions, are also experiencing an influx of refugees.” The general paused his report and focused his gaze on the scroll once more. “It has been suggested tha
t we may be able to place our own agents within the refugees entering the other countries. The intelligence we gain might be worth the risk.”
“An intriguing strategy. Have a full proposal sent to me by tomorrow morning. I will consider it.” The Emperor turned his back on the three officials and looked at Haung for the first time. “What do you think of the reports, Captain?”
“My lord, me?” Haung looked at the other men in shock. “I am not sure I have anything to add or suggest, my lord. I am just a simple soldier and bodyguard.”
“Truly?” The Emperor’s strange eyes focused on Haung, who felt uncomfortable under that gaze. “No, I do not think you are a simple soldier. The men here know that you are not or you would not be in this city, let alone this room. So, give your views without fear of reprisal or retribution.”
“My lord?” Haung’s voice cracked a little as he noted the general staring at him with a degree of fury in his eyes.
“I could command it, Captain, but I would prefer not to. Speak to us. You are trained Jiin-Wei. Tell us what a Jiin-Wei makes of it.” The Emperor returned to sit on his throne.
“Well,” Haung began, “the information we have heard would suggest that the suspected army is consolidating its hold on the land it has taken. That the refugees are moving in three directions indicates that gaining land is its aim, but also that it may be possible to extrapolate a point of origin and, possibly, a home city.”
“Which we have done, my lord. Here is the map.” The general presented the scroll to the Emperor, who did not immediately reach for it.
“Continue,” the Emperor commanded.
“However, the honoured general’s reports are based on the recollections of refugees fleeing their homeland, on second-hand information, on stories and rumours. There is no fault in this,” Haung added quickly, as the general’s expression darkened. “With no means to discover first-hand the veracity of the reports, or to gather information from trained and trusted sources, it is the best that can be done.”
