The Stone Road

by G R Matthews

  In the shadow between the lanterns above and below, Zhou was thankful for the rest. He placed the climbing claws into the bag, pushed the betraying tile back into position and spent a few moments rubbing some life back into his arms. Then he took his first look at the interior of the castle. The tall keep stood in the centre, the different floors marked by the outstretched, upsweeping arcs of their tiled roofs. Between Zhou and the keep were regular spaced buildings, all of the same length, arranged on a grid pattern. The pathways between each building were lit by lanterns hanging down from eaves. There was no way to walk along those without being noticed. The roofs it is, he decided.

  Staying low and placing each foot with care, he crept along the edge of the roof. Guards and other people, administrators by the paper and scrolls they carried, hurried along the pathways below him. No one looked up, too intent on their tasks. He studied his chosen route. Five buildings to leap between, five roofs to scurry along and the keep to enter, all without being noticed. He sat back on his haunches and tried to re-think his approach. Quite clearly the castle was too busy for a stealthy entry and search. I’ll be spotted in a second and then the whole castle will be on the lookout for me, he thought, there has to be way.

  # # #

  Zhou fell in behind an administrator carrying a wooden box full of scrolls. His own arms were laden down with scrolls and a scholar's robe covered the dark clothes, the unfortunate previous owner would wake in a few hours with a large bruise and a headache to match. He kept his head down as they approached the guarded door to the keep.

  “Halt and state your business,” the guard said, barring the pathway with his spear.

  “Reports for the Fang-shi,” the administrator in front said and, shifting the box slightly, managed to raise his left hand to the guard. In turn, the guard examined the hand and then let him pass.

  “State your business.” The guard now spoke to Zhou.

  “Reports for,” Zhou paused for a second, “the Guard Captain.”

  “Show me,” the guard said.

  “If you take the top scroll off,” Zhou began.

  “Not the scrolls,” the guard sighed. “The ring.”

  “The ring?” Zhou’s mind raced. Is that what the last administrator had showed? “I can’t let go of these scrolls, they’ll fall everywhere and be ruined.”

  “I need to see the ring before I can let you in,” the guard said and then he turned to the other guard who had stayed by the door. “Always one, isn’t there.”

  “Really, I have it,” he lied. Zhou recalled stripping the unconscious administrator and spotting dark ring on the man’s left hand, assuming it was just a display of wealth. “If you could just bend down and look. I can’t move my hands and drop this load. I would be in so much trouble.”

  The guard sighed and did as Zhou had asked, “Too bloody dark to see a thing.”

  “It is there,” Zhou pleaded.

  “Go on,” the guard sighed again and stepped back. “But when you come back through here I want to see that ring.”

  “Of course,” Zhou bobbed his head several time, “Of course. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “Get a move on then.” The guard waved him on, shaking his head at the same time.

  # # #

  Zhou turned another corner, completely lost in the maze of the keep. The new corridor ahead was wide, and the thick wooden doors at the end were ajar. He shuffled down the corridor, still juggling the load he carried, towards the two guards stationed outside. His spirit enhanced ears picked out voices coming from inside.

  “I tell you, Commander, there is no chance that an assassin can get through the guards we have deployed.” The voice was deep and stirred Zhou’s memory. “The Fang-shi have laced the courtyard and walls with seals and alarms. The Jiin-Wei sweeping the corridors.”

  “I’d feel better with more stationed around yourself,” a second voice, “at least until we have Haung’s full report. Where is that man, he should have been here by now.”

  “The guard who carried his message said Jiin-Wei Haung was injured. He was probably more in need of a healer than he suspected.”

  “He told the guard he was coming to you. Can you not find him, my Lord?” the second voice said.

  The duke. Zhou tightened his grip on the box of scrolls before he dropped them and rushed in to fulfil his need for vengeance.

  “You know I cannot. I’ve met very few like him. His shield is strong. But he is loyal and trusted. I would not make such a man the Captain of my Bodyguard without being able to trust him. It is his very independence of thought that makes him so valuable to me. He will be here commander. Come, have a drink, calm your nerves.”

  “Marbu offered, and I have sent him to collect young Haung. Wound or not, his report is vital to your safety. His first duty is to you.” There was the sound of glass on glass and the gurgle of liquid pouring.

  Zhou took a deep breath and approached the guards, “Reports for the commander and duke.”

  “Wait here,” the first guard said before turning to his compatriot, “Watch him.”

  The second guard moved to block Zhou’s advance as the first opened the door wider and entered. Zhou nodded to the guard left watching him, “Terribly busy night.”

  “Suppose you aren’t used to working this late,” the guard responded.

  “Oh no,” Zhou said. “Scribing reports in the dark, even by candle and lantern light, is bad for your eyes.”

  Before the guard could say anything else the first returned, “Go in but don’t stay long.”

  Zhou gave both guards a small bow and entered the great hall. At the far end two men stood at a table over-flowing with paper. A second table lay a little further away with a bottle of dark liquid and several glasses resting on it. The back wall of the room was covered by a large curtain on a raised dais and, at the highest point of the room, the duke’s throne. Zhou kept his head low as he walked towards the table, trying hard to contain the spirit as it bubbled upwards, the scent of its prey on the air.

  “Just put them over there.” The commander spoke without looking up from his reading.

  “Any news of,” the duke looked up from his own scroll and the words stuck in his throat.

  Zhou dropped the scrolls, drew the short staff, charged forward and struck a clubbing blow at the nearest target. Commander Weyl was in the act of turning and rising when it caught him at the juncture of neck and shoulder. His eyes, turned towards Zhou in surprise, clouded over and he toppled off the chair.

  The duke backed up in one fluid leap, landing on the steps of the dais. Zhou stalked around the table to confront him.

  “Well, well, well,” the duke smiled. “The diplomat. Have you come join the rest of the people of Wubei in death?”

  Zhou let the contained spirit burst forth. Energy poured into every limb, and anger rose like magma from his stomach and drenching his mind in the searing heat of rage. He snarled, “I’ve come to kill you.”

  “A Wu?” the duke’s eyes widened. “Well, well, this should be interesting.”

  Chapter 36

  “My treachery?” Haung spat, “You're the traitor, Marbu. I've been to your house. I’ve met Jing Ke. I killed him.”

  “Interesting lies, former Jiin-Wei Haung but there is a warrant for your arrest on the charge of treason and these soldiers will see that it is carried out.” Marbu smiled from his place of safety behind the armoured soldiers.

  The corridor was wide enough for the two soldiers to come at him at once but not wide enough to allow them free reign to swing their swords. Haung took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, settling further into his stance. The guards came to a halt just over a sword’s length away and waited.

  “Get him,” Marbu shouted.

  The soldier on the left lunged forward, all of his weight behind the sabre thrust aimed straight at Haung’s heart.

  Haung stepped lightly to the left putting the lunging guard between him and the second soldier. The tip of his own Jian sword
flowed like water across the outstretched arm of his attacker, following the line past elbow, bicep, and shoulder to slide through the gap between helmet and armoured shirt. The force of the lunge carried the guard to the hilt of Haung's sword, eyes wide in pain and disbelief, mouth open in a silent scream.

  As the guard's limp body fell forwards, Haung was forced to let go of his sword. The second guard recovered and now had room to swing his sabre without worry, which he did in a flat arc designed to take Haung’s head from his shoulders. Haung ducked but, with no sword of his own, was unable to strike back. Now with the corridor wall at his back he had nowhere to retreat.

  The guard growled and swung again, the same flat arc, but this time aimed at Haung's midriff. No way to side step and no going backwards, Haung stepped forward, inside the swing. The guard’s forearm smashed into Haung’s ribs, winding him and he grunted in pain. But now within reach, he stuck out with a straight palm to the guard’s chin. Then, clamping his right arm down to trap the guard’s sword-arm against his side, Haung stepped forward again, pushing the guard hard up against the opposite wall. With his free hand, he gripped the guard’s helmet and rammed it against the solid stone once, twice and then once more to make sure. The guard gurgled, eyes rolling backwards in their sockets, and collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

  Haung bent down and withdrew his sword from its flesh scabbard, the neck of the soldier. It slid out with a soft sigh of escaping air and a torrent of blood. As Haung straightened he felt wetness from the re-opened wound on his back.

  “I told you,” and he bit off each word, “that if you came after my wife, I would kill you.”

  # # #

  “An untrained Wu at that. See that we are not disturbed.” The duke stepped forward waving away the two guards who had rushed in from their posts and redirected his attention back to Zhou, “Do you know how long it has been since I had a proper opponent? Not that you are one, by the way.”

  Zhou stepped forward and raised the staff to attack. The duke smiled and the raging fire in Zhou’s mind was snuffed out by a thick covering of ice. From that smothering blanket of cold, spreading veins of ice invaded his mind, each one unlocking a memory, an emotion, a snapshot of his past.

  “I can see it all you know.” The duke’s voice changed. It was slower, almost a whisper and it was inside Zhou’s head. “Every memory is there for me to look at. I can show them all to you. What would you like to see first?”

  Zhou watched his dust covered hands pull the little body from the wreckage of his home. The broken tangle of limbs, the blood smeared face, the dark mess of his son's hair.

  Zhou watched the cattle transform into the gruesome mix of beast and man. Legs, arms and torsos contorted. Faces, mouths open wide in silent horror.

  Zhou watched Hsin’s legs smashed by the hammer of the crucifier. The old man raised up on the crossed beams to be displayed before all. Eyes full of pain and despair.

  Zhou saw his city in flames. Smoke rising towards the heavens, covering the sky with a dark shroud of death.

  The Dryad’s staff clattered to the floor and Zhou, clutching his temples, fell to his knees, screaming.

  “It’s all there. I can show you anything. Would you like to see your wedding day,” his wife’s face smiling, “your wedding night,” her soft exhalations in his ear, the feel of her skin, “birth of your child,” the wailing scream of the wrinkled baby, wrapped in a towel, as it was placed in his arms, “or his death,” the blood, the dust, “though you've seen that already. I can make you live in that instant for the rest of your life, if I choose.”

  Tears sprang to Zhou’s eyes and he bent forward, forehead touching the floor as memory after memory was played out in his mind’s eye. His whole life was rifled through as he struggled to marshal his thoughts and regain control.

  “So it was you from the walls?” the duke’s voice was close to his ear, “You ruined my carefully prepared scheme.”

  A foot crashed into his ribs and Zhou fell onto his side, the stone floor hard against his shoulder. He saw the arrow arc from his bow and into the nightmare creatures on the plain before the city, he saw them transform again and again.

  “You could have saved us all a lot of trouble by just dying during the battle.” Another foot struck him, this time in the back. “At least you could have come against me as a trained Wu. Maybe then you could have made a fight of this. Then again, maybe someone should have warned you.”

  Zhou felt the duke dig through his memories again.

  “I see,” said the duke, and Zhou felt his ankle being crushed against the stone floor. “That is for disobeying your teacher. You should have gone to the mountain.”

  The pressure eased on his mind and Zhou took a deep, shuddering breath. Opening his eyes, he could see the duke’s feet a pace or two in front of him. Zhou watched as the duke squatted down to look at him.

  “Your spirit is unguarded, did you know that?” Zhou could see the sharp white teeth of the duke as a devilish grin split the man’s face. “You didn’t, did you. Should have gone to the mountain, or told the Bear what you were going to do. I've never met him, you know. I've heard of him, of course, but he was long gone from the mountain before my training took place. Well,” the duke stood back up and Zhou could hear him pacing, “I suppose it falls to me to do his job for him. Your spirit binds to you but seeks out company of its own kind. That’s what yours is doing now. Seeking out another like it and it found mine, or rather mine found yours. It is open and that opens you up to just this sort of thing. You would learn, on the mountain, to guard your spirit. Those without the spirit I can influence and suggest, and make those suggestions seem like the most brilliant idea they ever had but I can’t enter their minds like I can yours.”

  Zhou struggled back up onto his knees, “I will kill you.”

  The duke paused and the walls of the great hall echoed to his laughter. “Now then, let’s look a little deeper shall we. This is a good chance to catch some more spies, assassins and terrorists. After all, little Wu, you must have had help to get this far.”

  # # #

  Marbu smiled, “I think I will enjoy this.”

  “Not as much as me,” Haung said as he stepped forward over the guards’ bodies.

  “You think so,” and Marbu undid the clasp of his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Haung saw him reach behind and draw two short, thick bladed swords from hidden sheaths. “I argued against you becoming a Jiin-Wei you know. The commander wasn’t too happy either but the duke likes you and, despite the fact that he can’t control you like all the others, he trusts you.”

  “Controls?” Haung paused in his advance.

  “You’ve felt it. He told me that you had and that you resisted.” Marbu smiled at him. “You didn’t realise? Not as bright as you think.”

  Haung recalled the presence in his mind, the pressure to open up and comply. The barrier he had erected was second nature by now and it was no longer a conscious effort to maintain. Something of his realisation must have shown on his face.

  “Worked it out, have you?” Marbu spun the blades lazily. “He controls all those close to him in that way. He can dip in and out of your mind as easily as you would pick rice from a bowl.”

  “How come he hasn’t realised you for the traitor you are?” Haung raised his sword again.

  “Training, practice and effort. I was chosen especially for this before you were even born.” Marbu took another step forward. “It feels good to finally be me again. By now the events I set in motion will have delivered the assassins to the duke and they will have killed him. Once I kill you, I can go home.”

  “And is that the reason you hate me and my wife so much?” Haung moved into a different stance, side on to Marbu. His left hand crept carefully towards a pouch on his belt and withdrew the tiny scroll within.

  “Your wife was your prize and prison.” Marbu stilled the twirling blades. “She bound you to the duke, no other Jiin-Wei is married but more than that, he co
uld enter her mind and see what you were up to. Men say all sorts of things on the pillow. But without his control, I could not be sure you would be blinded to my scheme. I have been re-directing Weyl and the duke away from my activities for years. Now it won’t matter.”

  Haung swept his left hand up, called out the word written on the scroll and a bolt of air raced down the corridor towards Marbu. The secretary raised both swords before him and the air splashed against them, dissipating into nothing.

  “A nice try. But Haung, really?” Marbu smiled at him, “I’ve been around Jiin-Wei and Fang-shi for a long time. Do you think I learnt nothing?”

  The secretary leapt forward, striking at Haung with both swords.

  # # #

  Zhou tried to clamp down on his thoughts but he felt the first fingers of the duke’s search breach the fragile outer walls of his mind he had constructed.

  “No,” Zhou spat the word at the duke.

  “Don’t struggle, it will only hurt you more.” The duke’s eyes had altered. Gone were the round iris and pupil and, instead, Zhou could see a verdant green bisected by a narrow, black diamond.

  Cold seeped through Zhou’s limbs, draining the energy and life from them. Turning him into a statue. The fight in his mind was unequal, he stood no chance so he surrendered that battle. Gathering his remaining energy, Zhou lunged toward the dropped staff. A grip, a twist of the body and he could throw it hard at the duke, hoping it would be enough to break the duke's hold on his mind and give him a chance to attack.