Orchestra of Treacheries: A Legends of Tivara Story (The Dragon Songs Saga Book 2)

by JC Kang

  Jie scooted forward, rapt with interest. On firm ground, she was a fair archer at best. Maybe mounted archery was impractical, but it certainly took skill. The event started to loud cheers. Each participant seemed better than the last, hitting more targets in faster times.

  The princess sat at the edge of the imperial box, right next to Prince Aelward in the adjoining box, pointing out the riders and describing their home provinces. On occasion, her regal demeanor would slip as she gasped and clapped her hands.

  At Prince Aelward’s side, Kanin Prince Tani shrugged. “What’s the challenge in riding around in a circle?”

  A rider in a light blue tunic came to the line. With her sharp eyes, Jie picked out the silver wen crest of a nine-petal flower, symbol of Huayuan Province. Smiling, the princess rose to her feet and clapped. Prince Aelward, looking at her, followed suit.

  The princess gestured with an open hand. “That is Xie Shimin, a decorated soldier and provincial champion. He is a crowd favorite, a strong contender every year.”

  Xie spurred his mount forward, shouting a salute that carried across the basin. None of his first shots came close to their targets.

  Prince Tani scoffed. The crowd buzzed with talk of the hometown hero’s poor performance.

  Jie sucked on her bottom lip. Something felt wrong.

  Besides the imperial guards and her two Moquan brothers, none of the spectators had weapons. The contestants, on the other hand...

  Jie inched forward, straining to get a better view of Xie Shimin as he rounded the final bend. He urged his horse into a full gallop, no longer even looking at the remaining targets. The audience pointed and shouted, many launching jeers at their own soldier.

  With an arrow fitted, Xie approached the center of the tiered seating, far past any of the clay targets.

  Around Jie, the imperial guards surged past her toward the front.

  Xie leveled his bow, took aim and let his arrow fly.

  The audience let out a collective gasp as the arrow streaked toward the dignitaries.

  Jie reached across the stone divider into the adjacent box and snatched the arrow out of the air with her left hand, just before it could hit the unsuspecting Prince Aelward. With her right, she whipped out a biao throwing star from her sleeve and hurled it at Xie.

  The would-be assassin had already nocked another arrow and shot just as the biao lodged in his gut.

  In Jie’s peripheral vision, Lady Ayana raised her hand and spoke a guttural syllable. The air in front of them shimmered like a hot summer haze. The arrow careened into an invisible barrier and fell to the ground.

  In front of her, the imperial guards Chen Xin and Li Wei formed a protective shield in front of Princess Kaiya, their naked blades held forward.

  Xie took aim at a target higher up, seemingly unfazed by the throwing star in his belly. Jie followed his line of sight.

  Chief Minister Tan stood alone, unprotected, sweat trickling down his forehead and drenching the armpits of his robes.

  The arrow smacked into the stone wall behind him with a loud thwack.

  Jie spun back to see Xie fit another arrow. He aimed at Lord Peng Kai-Long, who stared impassively at the instrument of his own impending doom.

  Zheng Ming spurred his horse into a full gallop across the field. He’d watched his friend Xie’s bizarre run, wondering about the challenge Xie had promised. Each of his shots had been sloppy. On the final stretch, he didn’t take a shot at all.

  At least, not until his friend started shooting into the dignitary box. Not once, but twice.

  Leaning from his saddle, Ming plucked an errant arrow from the ground as he closed the gap. He whispered a prayer to any god that would listen and let his arrow fly.

  It struck Xie in the back of his left shoulder, just before he loosed his fourth shot. The shock of the blow jolted him forward. The bow skidded from his hand and snapped back into his face. The arrow dropped to the ground.

  Wobbling in his saddle, Xie withdrew one last arrow and placed the edge on his neck. Ming closed quickly. He would never reach his friend in time.

  “Stand down.” The princess sang the words, her voice carrying across the field and above the chaos of frightened spectators.

  Xie hesitated.

  The elf woman pointed a finger at him and grunted something.

  Xie slumped in his saddle, the arrow slipping from his fingers. He pushed against the neck of his horse, his body rocking as he righted his balance.

  On the slopes, the watch swam through the panicked audience toward the field. The nobles and ministers in the seats pushed and shoved their way toward the exits. Several imperial guards spilled over the balustrades and charged toward the horse and rider with weapons drawn.

  Crown Prince Kai-Guo pointed at Xie. “Take him alive!”

  Zheng Ming trotted up to Xie’s horse and seized its reins. The imperial guards pulled the limp man from his saddle.

  He bled profusely from wounds to his abdomen and shoulder, his complexion pale as they laid him on the ground.

  Crown Prince Kai-Guo climbed down, surrounded by wary guards, and pushed his way to the would-be assassin.

  Behind him, the exotic little handmaiden pulled on Princess Kaiya’s sleeve, even as the princess slipped between her two imperial guards. She glared at her handmaiden, and the servant relented.

  Such courage! Not only that, she could make something as awkward as jumping from the stands look graceful. Ming dismounted and came to her side.

  The Crown Prince stood over Xie. “Why did you attack the Tarkothi prince? Who sent you?”

  Xie Shimin, his eyes fluttering, choked on his words. “Forgive me, Dian-xia, I am sworn to secrecy. It was not treason. I did it to protect our great nation.”

  “Protect the nation?” The Crown Prince gestured back to the stands. “You attacked a foreign dignitary. How will that do anything but tarnish our great name? I command you to answer. I would prefer not to subject one of our soldiers to an interrogator.”

  An imperial guard shook his head. “Dian-xia, he will not survive this wound, let alone interrogation.”

  Ming made his way to the circle of men surrounding his friend.

  “Dian-xia.” Xie coughed blood as he spoke. “These are not times for talk, but for action. Foreign enemies seek to swallow up Hua.”

  The princess touched Ming’s arm. “What can you tell me about Xie Shimin?”

  Ming bowed. “We served in Wailian County at the border. His father passed away several years ago. His only family is a sick mother. He has no siblings, no wife.”

  Without any acknowledgement of his words, the princess pushed forward through the guards. Even as they tried to stop her, she knelt by Xie’s side and took his hands in her own. “Brave soldier of Hua,” she said, “you have been misled by those who seek to destroy our peaceful country from within. Please, let us know who your co-conspirators are, and I will personally ensure that your parents’ graves are tended to.”

  Xie looked up at her, inner struggle mingling with pain on his face.

  “Tell me.” She sang her words again.

  Xie’s shoulders relaxed. “I have sworn on my family’s grave not to reveal the origin of the order... When you go to my barracks, you will find a lot of evidence meant to mislead you...”

  That answer was no less a riddle than anything else Xie had said. Ming exchanged glances with the others gathered around. Eyebrows were raised, lips were pursed. At least he wasn’t the only one who was confused.

  Crown Prince Kai-Guo straightened and addressed the guards. “Reestablish order, calm the citizenry. The tournament will be cancelled for now. Send someone to the soldier’s barracks and gather all of his belongings. The Tianzi must not be told about this. I will not worry him more before New Year’s prayers at the Temple of Heaven on the morrow.”

  Ming dropped to his knee. “Dian-xia, please allow me to accompany your investigator to Xie’s barracks. He was my friend, and never once did he say anything trea
sonous.”

  The Crown Prince peered at him for a few seconds before nodding. He motioned for a member of the watch. “Accompany Young Lord Zheng to the Huayuan Provincial Cavalry barracks.”

  Ming turned to check on the princess. She would be shaken from yet another attack, and a few sweet words would comfort her. He’d reassure her he would ride with her during tomorrow’s New Year’s procession.

  She already stood at the base of the stands, smiling and chatting with the Eldaeri prince.

  Kaiya still felt the cold of Xie Shimin’s grasp, even as she held a low bow before Prince Aelward. She hadn’t wanted to release the dying soldier’s hand, but the prince’s choking in the stands was a poignant reminder of her duties as an imperial representative. If a foreign dignitary died at the hands of an assassin, the repercussions could range anywhere from trade embargos to war. It would also scuttle her own mission of peace, perhaps leading to more unnecessary deaths in Hua.

  She did not deign to meet Prince Aelward’s eyes. “I cannot apologize enough for this breach in security.”

  “It’s okay, lass,” he said, voice gruff. “No need for theatrics.”

  With effort, Kaiya straightened. After expending the energy needed to get Xie to talk, her limbs felt like dwarf anvils, and a haze fogged her mind. Such power came with a price, apparently, and the limit of her commands seemed to be two syllables. “Again, I am sorry. I hope you are uninjured.”

  “Aye, lass. Only a scratch when I slipped on the step. Your chippy handmaiden has quite the hands. Saved me from an arrow.” He nodded toward Jie, whose sleeves concealed her hands, and who knew what else. “I owe you a blood debt.”

  Jie started to drop to one knee, but twisted with the grace of a cat into an Arkothi-style curtsey. “I will remember that.”

  Kaiya clenched her jaw. “Perhaps we should retreat to the safety of the palace now.”

  “Nay, I think I’ve enjoyed enough of your country’s festivities. I’ll be heading back to the Invincible. She’ll be ready to sail when you embark on your mission.”

  From the embankment on the opposite side of the basin, the renegade Moquan Liang Yu used a dwarven magnifying scope to watch the dying soldier. He had to twist and crane his neck to get a good view through the swirling crowds.

  Though he did not know of this plan, he had suspected his former employer would strike here. Without Liang Yu to do his dirty work, he had blackmailed Xie Shimin, using the leverage Liang Yu had uncovered months before.

  He sighed. Alas, yet another patriot sacrificed, all to ensure Hua’s continued greatness. Certainly the Tianzi would now move beyond purely defensive measures and take decisive action.

  His special pupil flashed a hand signal, confirming Liang Yu’s suspicions. Snapping the dwarven scope shut, he rose to his feet. He now was certain of the identity of his former employer. Once the war started, he would exact his vengeance for the betrayal at Jade Spring Inn.

  Near the back of the stone seats, Minister Hong Jianbin feigned panic, even as he struggled to hide joy at his luck. Even if his spy had bungled, his plans might work out better than he imagined. With the princess to depart on her trip to Vyara City in two days, he might very well be Chief Minister in less than a week.

  CHAPTER 18:

  Idle Pursuits

  Zheng Ming lay awake on silken sheets, in a room whose luxury might have rivaled an imperial pavilion. Not that he’d know.

  He stared at the ceiling tiles, admiring how the late afternoon light played on the intricate dragon and phoenix carvings. His thoughts wandered, bouncing between the investigation into his friend Xie Shimin, and the princess’ affection for the foreign prince.

  A search of Xie’s personal effects earlier that day revealed Maduran coins and a letter in Ayuri script. Though Ming couldn’t read it, he had little doubt it had come from Madura as well. Yet Xie had also told the princess something about not believing all the evidence.

  Ming rolled over, only to be pulled into the bare arms of some minister’s daughter or niece or something. The walnut-toned beauty, who looked to have some Ayuri blood in her, had virtually thrown herself at him after his exploits at the tournament. He’d succumbed to her charms, having grown frustrated at the princess’ coy flirtations. A man needed release, after all.

  It hadn’t taken much to coax the exotic young woman into joining him at this high-end establishment, which specifically catered to discreet meetings. A frequent visitor on his trips to the capital, Zheng Ming often wondered what secrets the proprietress knew, given the patrons included all manner of lords and high officials.

  Yet right now, even as the girl kissed his neck and ran her hands over him, all he could think about was his guilt. Of course the princess would not be like other women. She was too bound by court conventions to openly shower affection on a man. Her token before the tournament was already a bold statement on her part.

  And here he was, with a girl whose name he couldn’t even remember.

  Her kisses stopped abruptly and she pushed him away. She pulled the sheets up to hide her magnificent nakedness, eyes glinting in accusation. “You are thinking of her.”

  Ming flashed a well-trained smile at her. Her lips quivered. A strategically-placed finger on those full lips caused her to inhale sharply, eyes closed.

  “If by her, you are referring to our motherland of Hua,” he said, “then yes. I’m thinking of her. I’m sorry. But if you are implying some other woman, then the only one I’m thinking of is you.”

  His response was so glib, he almost believed it himself. He kissed her forehead. Her hands reached into his hair. The sheet covering her slipped, forgotten.

  So naïve, these city girls. Ming tried to ignore the guilt tapping on his shoulder, and focused on pleasing her. The afternoon ambled on, their lovemaking leaving him spent.

  When he awoke, the woman was gone. All his worries and guilt flooded back to him. He dressed and slipped out of the guest house. Above, the iridescent moon waxed to its fifth crescent, giving him an hour before the New Year’s Eve feast began at his provincial compound.

  The streets bustled with people rushing home for their own holiday feasts. With his dao tucked in his sash, most recognized him as a lord and made way. He ground to a halt just before he reached the stable where he’d left his horse.

  A dozen members of the city watch were questioning the stable boy. A couple of other men milled among them, nodding and pointing.

  Just when Ming was about to approach, a plainly-dressed man with a walking stick barreled right into him, nearly knocking him to the ground.

  Ming growled. “Hey! Are you blind? Watch where you’re going!”

  The boor just snickered and kept walking. The gall!

  The horse and commotion could wait. Ming spun around and jogged to catch up with the man. “I’m talking to you! Do you know who I am?”

  The man’s shoulders shook as his pace quickened. The bastard was laughing!

  Indignation rising, Ming followed the man around a corner.

  He found himself dumped onto the ground. A knife pushed against his throat. Ming’s eyes darted around to get his bearings. He’d turned into an alley, never suspecting a trap. After all, who would attempt such an audacious attack in broad daylight, in a fairly busy part of the city?

  “Young Lord Zheng Ming,” the man whispered. “That should answer your question, I do know who you are. I am going to let you get up, and I want you to follow me. Swear to me now you will not call for the watch.”

  “I swear,” Ming whispered his answer, now more intrigued than angry or frightened.

  His assailant had long black hair with streaks of silver, and worn features that bore evidence of a hard life. Besides that, he was incredibly plain. He offered a hand, and Ming took it.

  Pulled to his feet, Ming followed the stranger deeper into the alley. Who was this guy? And what did he want? With the man’s back turned, it would be easy to run away, call out—though not for the watch, since he’d s
worn—or even attack—

  “You will be dead before your sword leaves its scabbard.”

  Ming’s hand had unconsciously strayed toward the hilt of his dao. He thrust his hands behind his back.

  The man chuckled. “Do you know with whom you have been sharing a bed?”

  Heat burned in his cheeks. “Have you been following me?”

  The man looked over his shoulder at Ming. “I am watching you for your own sake. You, my friend, are being set up. What do you suppose will happen if your pretty princess finds out you are spreading your seed while actively courting her?”

  Ming shrugged. Years of smooth talking yielded a lie he almost believed himself. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over between us.”

  The man grinned. “Good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, don’t you wonder why you were set up? Or did you just assume your handsome face was enough to get any girl into bed?”

  Ming had, in fact, assumed that. He bit his lip. “Why?”

  “If you knew who, then the why might be easier to guess.”

  “Would you stop talking in riddles?” Ming glared at the man.

  The man’s smirk deepened. “My problem is I know who, but not why. Maybe you can help me.”

  Ming threw his hands up. “Just say it!”

  “Minister Hong Jianbin. The girl is his pawn. Or maybe even his lover.”

  Ming winced. Had he just slept with... “Hong’s lover?”

  Another chuckle. “I can only surmise. If I were in your boots, I’d be more concerned that Hong was setting you up.”

  Ming’s mind swam. “Whatever for?”

  “And we circle back to the first question. I would think he is either trying to ruin any chances you might have with the princess—”

  “He wanted me to court her.” Ming scratched his head. Maybe there was more to that.

  “—or use it as leverage against you,” the man continued.

  “What kind of leverage?” Ming asked.

  “Almost certainly not the same I am going to use on you.”