by JC Kang
Then Peng spoke up, his voice transformed into anger. “Negotiation? Will we wait again for another attack? Who will be targeted next?”
Lord Han, a longtime Royalist, bobbed his head. “How long will it be until you meet with the Madurans? In the meantime, something must be done to ensure not only the safety of the Tai-Ming and their families, but also to prevent the citizenry from descending into chaos.”
“If I may speak?” Unlike the others, Lord Zhao asked to be recognized, as protocol demanded.
The Crown Prince beamed and nodded, again forgetting the dignity of the Tianzi’s office. “You may, Father-in-Law.”
Such familiar terms were meant to stay outside of official functions. Hong would have rolled his eyes, if not for the need to stay in the Crown Prince’s good graces. For now.
Lord Zhao said, “Regardless of what action we take, we must increase security around the capital.”
Hong congratulated himself for not only convincing the Royalists to push his plan, but getting them to believe it was their own. He was further reassured when Lord Liu, drunk during their conversation the night before, spoke up.
“If I may speak?” Lord Liu waited for the Crown Prince to recognize him with a tilt of his chin. “In the three hundred years of the Wang Dynasty, the capital has never faced security issues. The general populace is already uneasy because of these unheard-of attacks, and there may very well be a new insurgency brewing.”
“There has been some discussion among the Tai-Ming,” Lord Lin of Linshan said, speaking out of line. Perhaps the princess’ young friend Lin Ziqiu had learned impertinence from her father. “In these unprecedented times, we wish to petition the Tianzi to allow each province to bring five thousand of our own soldiers to the capital. They would assist in our personal security and help the watch maintain order.”
Hong peeked at the Crown Prince, who gawked in a manner unbefitting the future Tianzi. Always suspicious, the Founder had stipulated that the Tai-Ming could bring no more than two hundred soldiers into the capital at a time. Although five thousand soldiers—a number that Hong himself had whispered into the ears of the Royalist Tai-Ming—would never pose a serious challenge to the national army garrisoned in Huajing, the suggestion bordered on treason.
The princess, too, regarded Lord Lin with an unseemly gawk. Apparently, her support for Hong’s request earlier that day only went so far. Despite her apparent shock, her voice remained serene. “Lord Lin, the defense of Huajing is the responsibility of Huayuan Province, the jurisdiction of Prince Kai-Guo. A sudden, dramatic increase in outside provincial troops would certainly raise the anxieties of the people.”
Hong had underestimated her. Nonetheless, he could find opportunity in failure. The best-laid plans rarely survived first contact with the enemy. As long as all sides got what they wanted in the end, he would still benefit from a change in tactics. “If I may speak?” Hong said, and waited to be recognized. “It is two weeks until the New Year Festival. There will be increased shifts of the watch and more soldiers from other parts of Huayuan Province deployed to the capital to maintain order. Perhaps more could come?”
From the corner of his vision, Hong saw Peng trying to get his attention, his eyebrows clashing together. This new suggestion would be perceived as a betrayal.
The Crown Prince dipped his chin a fraction, the motion more becoming and regal. “A good suggestion, Minister Hong. We can divert an extra two thousand men from the Rotuvi border, and another three thousand from Jiangkou. The Tianzi’s spies are also mobilized. We will make the capital safe.”
All anger drained from Lord Peng’s voice. Perhaps the man had a touch of insanity to go with his flair for drama. “What would the Tianzi think of a compromise? Allow the Tai-Ming to increase their military presence by five hundred men, limited to the city’s northeast?”
True to form, the Crown Prince wavered. The princess silently prodded him with her eyes, yet she remained quiet. Good, a sign that she remembered a girl’s place beneath her brother. At last, he nodded, again the motion coarse and unbecoming. “Very well, start making arrangements, though the Tianzi will have to approve the plan himself.”
Hong ran calculations in his mind, pondering the timing of all of the plans in place. Some would have to wait until after the New Year’s Festival, when the princess departed for Vyara City. In the meantime, he would need to keep her out of Peng’s reach, without Peng realizing that was his goal.
The next step of his scheme, to become the princess’ groom, now ran well ahead of schedule. It was almost time to oust Chief Minister Tan.
Just after the council meeting adjourned, Peng Kai-Long excused himself before any of the other Expansionist lords could corner him. Now he lay in wait, ready to ambush Old Hong on his predictable visit to the privy. The treacherous minister, likely knowing of Kai-Long’s involvement in the attack on Cousin Kaiya, was now trying to protect his ultimate prize.
With the Tianzi’s spies lurking in the shadows and increased imperial guard presence, the girl was out of harm’s reach anyway. Kai-Long had already committed himself to a less satisfying backup plan: rendering her infertile with a steady dose of the right herbs. Or, if he did not want to get his own hands dirty, perhaps push for the marriage with the soon-to-be Chief Minister Hong. The wretched old man’s repeating crossbow probably had an empty magazine anyhow.
No, the princess marrying and conceiving a son was the least of his concerns right now. More pressing was whether or not he could still count on Hong in other aspects of their plan. Especially after the outrageous proposal to move more of the Tianzi’s own men into the capital.
The old bastard turned the corner, and stopped in his tracks when their gazes met. The minister’s fearful look was immensely gratifying.
“So old man, are you backing out of our arrangement?”
“What?” A broken smile appeared on Hong’s face. “Of course not.”
Kai-Long scrutinized Hong’s expression for any sign of a lie. “We did not discuss any of what you proposed in council.”
Hong shook his head. “We underestimated Princess Kaiya. I had to adjust our strategy in light of that.”
Kai-Long glared at the minister. “When she meets with the Madurans, she will learn they have nothing to do with the attacks.” Not to mention she might meet with Prince Hardeep and find out their year of correspondence was all a lie...
“We can always incriminate the Kingdom of Rotuvi, which has threatened us for years, and is a weaker opponent anyway. It will also give you reason to move your armies north. Most importantly, she will be out of our way in two weeks. It will be easier for us to attain our final goal.”
“I wonder if we are speaking of the same goal.” Kai-Long noted that Hong was regarding his own expression with just as much scrutiny.
“Of course. You as Tianzi, me as Chief Minister. We will do great things for Hua.”
Kai-Long pursed his lips. At least Hong got half of it right. “Regardless of whether or not Cousin Kaiya is around, five hundred of my best men are not enough to stage a coup. Especially with all of the additional Huayuan troops you proposed.”
“Your men just have to be present for contingencies. Once everything has played out, you will be the legitimate heir. Then you will have a new five hundred best men: the imperial guard.”
It did make sense, except for how Hong undoubtedly planned on betraying him in the end. Kai-Long forced a smile. It was two weeks until the New Year Festival. After that, Cousin Kaiya would leave. With her out of the way, everything would fall into place.
CHAPTER 14:
Resonance
By the second night, Kaiya could lie in her bed and reliably pick out Jie’s breathing from the chorus of spring sounds. Like a shallow whisper, each of the half-elf’s inhalations lasted over a minute, followed by an equally-long exhalation. Try as she might, Kaiya couldn’t replicate the marathon breath cycle.
Kaiya fiddled with Zheng Ming’s kerchief, unable to sleep. As i
ntrusive as the Moquan girl was, it was still nice having someone there. “How do you breathe like that?”
Jie’s breathing returned to normal. “It’s part of our training. It’s called the Viper’s Rest. At the highest levels, we can slow our heartbeat so as to appear dead.”
What a strange technique, with little obvious use. “What other special skills do the Moquan possess?”
Pride radiated in the girl’s voice. “We are masters of stealth. We can infiltrate an enemy. We make excellent information gatherers. If need be, we can be untraceable assassins.”
“You will not need to make use of that skill in my service.” Kaiya shuddered. To think, sweet little Tian, sneaking around in the dark, murdering. Maybe some things were best left unasked.
Apparently, Jie would be answering those unspoken questions. “It’s not something I’ve had to do. The clan cultivates us according to our abilities. The best assassin in recent memory was the Surgeon, who died thirty-two years ago on a mission. His friends, the Architect and the Beauty, perished with him.” Awe carried in her voice. “Tian might be as good a planner as the famed Architect.”
Kaiya had a good idea where this was headed. “And you?”
“Like the Beauty, in more ways than one.” The girl had to be grinning. “My specialization is infiltration and information gathering.”
“What information did you gather from watching the council meeting?”
“May I speak freely?”
“Speak, my Insolent Retainer.”
“Then forgive my audacity, but I fear the Crown Prince is not ready to be Tianzi. The Second Prince, even less so. He ignored the entire meeting.”
“Kai-Guo has plenty of time to grow into the role.” Did he? Kaiya tried to sound convincing. Father might not have much time left.
“He’d better have. Lord Peng waits in the wings.”
“Cousin Kai-Long? He has always been my father’s favorite nephew. Even if he is intent on invading Madura, he does so with the country's best interests at heart.”
Jie’s silence spoke loudly about her distrust of Lord Peng. When she voiced her concerns again, it had nothing to do with Cousin Kai-Long. “Be wary of Minister Hong. When you’re not paying attention, his eyes undress you.”
After enduring the lewd stares of boorish suitors, it didn’t come as a surprise. “Most men are governed by their base desires.”
“Yes, but the minister goes beyond leering. He hides it so well, it makes me wonder what other treacherous thoughts bounce around in his head.”
Kaiya shuddered again. Hong was old enough to be her father, perhaps even grandfather. Nonetheless... “He has proven reliable up to now. Unless your elven senses detect something else?”
“The only legacy of my elf blood is a father who abandoned me.” Whereas Jie had spoken in an objective tone about treacherous cousins and lecherous old men, her voice now sounded like she’d taken a bite of raw bitter melon.
How awful! Kaiya propped herself up on her elbows. “There must have been a good reason.” She beckoned her bodyguard over. Court conventions might frown on physical contact, but here, in the privacy of her room, she would give Jie a reassuring hand squeeze.
Not moving from her seat, Jie sighed. “According to the note he left, it was because he couldn’t care for a baby while he adventured. Little good elf-blood has done for me, beyond making me look a third my age. I—”
A cackle broke out in the corner of the room. “When you are ninety, you will be happy for that.”
Kaiya shot straight up. A third presence in the room had evaded her hearing. She fumbled for the knife hidden under an extra pillow. Gone. Of course. The nun had removed it at Jie’s order. She tightened the sleeping gown around her. As if that would help.
Jie leapt to her feet and flung something, or perhaps several things, in the direction of the laugh. Something flashed in her hands as she interposed herself between Kaiya and the intruder.
Then the half-elf froze in place, her defensive stance silhouetted by light from the full white moon Renyue.
Kaiya peered past her to where a dark shape stood.
Jie felt like a disembodied soul. She had no command over her muscles, nor could she feel a thing. Yet all of her senses worked.
Her elven vision clearly painted the cloaked intruder in olive shades as he walked around her. A thin longsword hung at his side.
A male voice invaded her mind. You can also thank your elven blood for the vision that allows you to see me now.
The same voice spoke aloud. “Dian-xia, your Ear that Sees improves, yet it still did not detect my arrival.”
The renegade Moquan! Perhaps the one who taught the rival clan she’d unsuccessfully tracked for two years. His presence evaded even Jie’s own keen senses, and he spoke of Seeing Ears, a Moquan technique that helped adepts fight in the dark. The great masters could paralyze an opponent by merely touching energy centers, and there were supposedly secret techniques of striking an enemy without actually making physical contact. Yet, projecting thoughts was beyond even fanciful legends.
The lamp shutters flapped open, throwing the room into bright light.
The princess stumbled over her words, her tone a mixture of fear and anger. “Lord Xu. This is my personal chamber. How did you get past the magical wards?”
The elf lord! If only Jie could see the interaction behind her.
“Who do you think put them in place?” Xu’s tone sounded harmless enough, and he had no reason to attack the princess.
Try as she might, Jie couldn’t turn.
“What did you do to Jie?” the princess demanded.
“I had to protect myself. Her barrage of spikes and stars almost hit me, and I would wager she is handy with those knives...and probably all of the other weapons she hides.”
Jie would’ve shuddered if she could. Perhaps nakedness did bother her. And she was fully clothed.
“Release her.” The princess’ tone of command, bred into the royal family, would make most people think twice about disobeying.
Jie wasn’t one of those people.
Apparently, neither was Lord Xu. He came back around and stood in front of her, examining her with dispassionate eyes. How satisfying it would be to gouge them out. And then spill his guts for good measure.
He looked over her shoulder to the princess. “Your bodyguard wants to dig my eyes out with the hilt of her knife, and spoon out my intestines. You will have to command her to behave.”
If Jie could gawk through her paralysis, she probably would. Her first up-close experience with a real elf was proving to be quite memorable.
“Jie, I command you to leave Lord Xu alone.”
It is for your own safety. Xu’s smug voice grated.
As much as that order begged to be disobeyed, what chance did anyone stand against who’d paralyzed her as an afterthought?
You are still young. Perhaps with more experience and training.
He was listening to her thoughts. Jie blanked her mind, using an anti-interrogation technique.
Lord Xu chuckled, and then uttered a foul-sounding syllable, worthy of an altivorc oath.
The sudden return of sensation nearly sent Jie tumbling to the ground, yet she managed to regain her balance before suffering further injury to her ego. Now if only Lord Xu would get out of her mind.
My apologies. I will not violate your privacy again, unless you attack me. “Now, withdraw from the chambers. I have secrets to share with the princess.”
He was unravelling her, puncturing even her mental armor. Jie crossed her arms. “I cannot. My orders are to remain with her at all times.”
Lord Xu’s almond eyes, almost a mirror of her own, narrowed. “I could teleport you to the other end of the realm, but you would probably just kill yourself for dereliction of duty. It would be a waste of such talent.” He walked past her to stand at the head of princess’ bed.
Such arrogance. Add arrogance to abandonment to the long list of elven shortcoming
s. The princess retreated to her headboard and glared at him. “So why do you invade my room at this late hour?”
The elf grinned like a schoolboy. “You will be negotiating with the Madurans. I thought I should teach you one more skill beforehand.”
“Can’t it wait until morning?” The princess pulled the covers up higher. It was tempting to join her beneath the blankets, like Jie’s favorite dog at the Black Lotus Temple would.
“I am to perform a ritual magic spell when Renyue is full. I will be returning to Haikou as soon as I am done teaching you.”
With a low sigh, the princess bowed her head. “Yes, Master.” She pushed her legs over the side of her bed.
Still smiling, the elf drew his longsword. Jie reached for her knives. Before she drew them, he tossed his weapon toward the princess, hilt first.
The princess cowered back, moving out of its flight path, but the sword suspended itself in mid-air, just outside her reach. She tentatively seized it by the hilt. The nonchalance with which he performed these impossibilities didn’t seem to be simple theatrics.
The show continued. Lord Xu reached behind him, and a lute from the anteroom flew across the bedchamber and into his grasp. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. “None the worse for its tumble onto the castle parapet two years ago. Now, Dian-xia, place your hand on the sword blade, so as to be barely touching it.”
When the princess had done as she was told, the elf strummed several notes. He peered at her as he did so. “Can you feel the change in vibrations?”
She nodded.
“Sound can be a weapon,” the elf lord said, “as deadly as the sword you hold.”
Jie snorted. To a Moquan, almost anything could be a weapon. But sound?
“Though perhaps even more deadly is the heart,” he added. “Half-elf, come here.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. No way would she surrender any more of her pride to this pompous ass.
“Your loss.” Xu shrugged before gliding over to the princess’ bedside. He took her hand and placed it on his chest.
