by Jeannie Lin
‘No wonder Li Tao is willing to move mountains to get you back.’
The sound of the name made her flinch. Li Tao knew nothing about her, cared nothing for her. Their marriage had been arranged to reinforce an alliance. The warlord would never listen to her as Ryam did. No one had ever paid such careful attention to her.
Closing her eyes, she broke away. Whatever was forming between them, it could not endure. Her father had promised her to the traitor Li Tao. If she wasn’t considered ruined for marriage, her father would promise her to someone else.
Her father was Emperor. Their lives were not their own. What one wanted and what one needed to do were seldom the same. That was duty. That was sacrifice.
When she opened her eyes, Ryam had shifted further from her. His elbow rested against the edge of the boat and his hand dangled near the water. He looked to the shore, watchful of any movement.
‘We won’t be able to stay on the river long,’ he said after another stretch. ‘They’ll follow it and find us.’
A thought came to her. ‘The weapons shipment you were guarding—where was it destined?’
Ryam frowned. ‘Chengdu. Why?’
‘The shipment could have been going to Li Tao,’ she said, rising excitedly.
‘Get down. You’re going to fall over.’
The connection was so clear. A clandestine weapons shipment amidst rumours that Li Tao was building an army in secret. It was exactly as Wu had warned her. She had been right to escape when she did.
‘The Emperor has taken control of the forges and armouries in order to control the jiedushi,’ she explained. ‘If Li Tao needed weapons, he would need to smuggle them from outside the empire.’
‘All the way from Parthia through Yumen Guan?’
‘He needed to keep it secret,’ she insisted. ‘And he may have had help from someone at the fortress.’
‘It’s possible.’ He frowned, considering it. ‘Between us and the tribesmen, we try to stay away from the affairs of the empire.’
‘But Princess Miya is there. They still speak of her in Changan. When she was in the palace, she could get anyone to do her bidding.’
‘How do you know so much about her anyway?’
‘Everyone knows of her.’ She fell silent then, praying she hadn’t revealed too much.
‘You’re wrong about the princess,’ he said. ‘We risked our lives to rescue her from the palace. It was her choice to abdicate the throne. She doesn’t want to be involved with the empire. Not with something like this.’
In the previous reign, the Emperor had been considered godlike, the Son of Heaven. The people seemed content to accept his rule. The borders were protected by powerful warlords and the merchants grew fat and decadent.
Her father’s succession had been brought about through war and rebellion. His detractors claimed that a barbarian had taken the throne, a man of common birth and mixed blood. Heaven had turned its back on the Middle Kingdom in disgust, and responded with famine and disorder.
Perhaps it was true that Emperors had to be born. Father had never dreamed of ruling. He had only accepted the duty out of honour. Secretly, Ailey wished there was a way that all of this could be undone and their family could return to what they once were. Fourth Brother wouldn’t be dead. Father and Mother wouldn’t be desperate to negotiate alliances with powerful warlords.
Ryam stood to steer them around an outcropping of rock. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and the muscles in his arms pulled taut against the drag of the water. Once again, he had saved her life.
She had to remember that he was still a stranger, inextricably linked to the power struggles that were tearing apart the empire she loved. She could never completely trust him. It seemed she couldn’t trust anyone, any more.
He had warned her that not everyone lived by the same code of honour she did. She knew it too well. When it came to power and the people who wielded it, loyalties became twisted and honour washed away like sand.
By the middle of the next day, they abandoned the boat and pushed it down the river. They continued on foot along the opposite bank to put a barrier between them and their pursuers. Ailey jumped every time the breeze stirred through the trees or a twig snapped in the distance.
‘Stay calm,’ Ryam said.
He steadied a hand against her back and his touch nearly made her jump again. Ever since she’d made him swear, he’d kept a noticeable distance between them. She almost hated how careful he was with her now.
‘We need to get closer to Changan, into lands under imperial jurisdiction,’ she said. Everything they spoke to each other was in lowered tones, as if Li Tao’s men were hiding behind every tree.
‘Once we reach the city, I need to figure out a way to get you to your family and then get out of there.’
She reached for her braid, twisting it in her fingers. ‘I could take you to my father. He can help you.’
‘You know we can’t. Your father will either kill me with his own hands or hand me over to the soldiers he obviously commands.’
His tone grew harsh and she fell silent. They both knew there was no way to explain her being alone with him. It was unthinkable that Ryam could rescue her so valiantly, yet still be chased down as an outlaw.
‘I don’t know what to tell him myself,’ she said. ‘To break a wedding arrangement like this is unspeakable.’
‘And the sight of a white demon like me would only make matters worse.’
‘You’re not a demon,’ she denied fiercely.
He regarded her with surprise and her skin grew hot under his scrutiny. She looked away, but the sight of his blue eyes stayed with her. It was impossible. Even if he weren’t a foreigner. Even if he were a swordsman of Han descent, her father wouldn’t allow it.
They were in danger with every breath, yet part of her never wanted to reach the capital. She would have to face her family in Changan. She would have to tell them what she’d learned about her brother’s death and open old wounds all over again.
She glanced over at Ryam and wished he would look at her again the way he had by the pond—as if she was the most enchanting thing he’d seen in all his journeys. For a moment in his arms, her worries had vanished. The palace and all of its lies didn’t exist.
‘What is that?’ Ryam asked.
A patch of red broke through the endless green of the forest. He slowed his step and Ailey crowded closer to him as she peered through the trees.
‘A house,’ she said.
Not at all like the thatched huts of the fishing village. The winged rooftop of a mansion rose over the trees, breaking the natural landscape. The wooden columns along the bay were painted bright red for good fortune. A peach orchard grew behind the building, the blossoms clinging like snow among the branches. This magnificent residence, complete with intricate latticework and gilded rafters, belonged in Changan or Luoyang, not in the middle of the woods by the muddy banks of the river.
A gardener saw them first. He left the flowering trees to hurry inside. The lady of the house emerged in an embroidered robe that, like the mansion, reflected opulence worthy of the imperial court.
The boatman had spoken of a great lady. Ailey’s breath caught as she recognised the mysterious woman. It was Ling Suyin, former consort to the August Emperor. A legendary beauty. The woman breezed into the garden, surrounded on either side by her servants, and stood waiting by the orchard, draped in silk and elegance.
The legends were true.
‘We should move on,’ she urged.
But Ryam didn’t appear to have heard her. His gaze was fixed upon the vision among the peach blossoms. ‘Lady Ling?’
Ailey could only stare in surprise. Before she could stop him, Ryam headed towards the house. It would have been pointless to warn him about the tales of men being seduced by the mere sight of Lady Ling. He was already caught. Ailey wanted to hit him. Hard.
The lady followed the path to the river’s edge; her dress floated with her as she wa
lked, shimmering like pearl. She appeared youthful, her skin flawless. They said the August Emperor had been twenty years older than her when he was enthralled by her.
For a moment, Ailey was stricken with a sense of fleeting glory. Who would ever see such beauty in these woods? Yet the imperial consort still dressed as if the deceased Emperor would come to her.
Ryam didn’t look back once as he climbed the path to the house. Ailey had to run to catch up with his long stride.
‘Lady Ling, I would know you anywhere,’ he greeted.
Her perfectly painted lips curved into a smile. ‘Ryam, is it? The wayward swordsman. You are far from Yumen Guan.’
A wonder she could even move in all that silk. Ailey blew at the strands of hair that strayed over her face, feeling like a street urchin in her drab clothing. She set her feet on the bank and refused to go any further. Ryam must have said something amusing because the courtesan’s laughter rang out like a bell. The dainty sound made Ailey’s skin crawl.
He had been to the imperial court and knew people in the highest ranks of power. She had to rethink her initial thoughts of him as a harmless outlander.
It was Ling who finally took notice of her by the shore.
‘Who is your companion?’ she asked.
‘This is Ailey.’
So he hadn’t forgotten her name. She gave a short bow out of politeness. ‘This humble girl is honoured to meet such an exalted lady.’
Ryam raised an eyebrow at the crispness of her voice. ‘We are headed to Changan to return Ailey to her family,’ he explained.
‘Changan?’
Ailey wanted to jab him for his carelessness. Ling’s eyes flashed with catlike interest as they surveyed her from head to toe. She tried to assure herself that the courtesan wouldn’t recognise her. She had lived far away from the imperial city during the reign of the August Emperor. Still, the association was too close for her to let down her guard.
Lady Ling spoke in the most formal of dialects. ‘You must accept my offer of hospitality.’
‘We would not dare to trouble the lady,’ Ailey responded in kind.
‘There is no need for such politeness. Are we not friends here?’
No, they were not friends in the least. Ailey’s instincts told her to decline immediately and return to the forest. Ling Suyin had ruled over the inner palace during the most treacherous years of the court. This woman was no delicate orchid.
Lady Ling extended a hand onto Ryam’s arm and Ailey glared at her manicured nails as if they were talons. She measured the seconds until the woman took her hand away.
‘How could I refuse such a gracious offer?’ Ryam said with an uncustomary show of manners.
He moved away from the dock, walking beside Lady Ling as they ascended the path to the orchard. Ailey dug her nails into her palms and had no choice but to follow them. The smile on his face was too wide and the way Ling tilted her head towards him made Ailey itch for her butterfly swords.
‘We cannot stay long,’ she cut in. Had he forgotten they were being tracked?
They glanced back, moving as one. She wanted to tell Ryam he looked like a fool standing beside such a refined lady, but it wasn’t true. He appeared tall and rugged and gallant as if Lady Ling had bestowed her grace on to everything around her. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards, bemused by her ire. She scowled at him, eyes narrowed, not caring what the lady read into it.
Ling’s pleasant smile never wavered. ‘For the night at least,’ she said. ‘It has been so long since I’ve heard news from beyond this river.’
She stepped aside to let Ailey join them. Ling’s gaze again flickered over her as she passed.
Ryam continued to stare at the imperial consort as if he were seeing the moon for the first time. He could defeat a gang of bandits easier than blinking, but put a beautiful woman in front of him and he was helpless.
Chapter Seven
Ailey settled into a private room overlooking the orchard. Within minutes, the servants rolled a wooden tub into the outer chamber and poured buckets of heated water into it until thick steam rose to dampen the air. It seemed that Ling still lived as if she was a favoured concubine in the palace, but Ailey couldn’t complain with the promise of a hot bath before her.
Once she was alone, she stripped off her tunic and leggings, folding them carefully. A surge of heat rushed to her breasts as she loosened the bindings. The memory of Ryam’s hands tugging at the cloth assailed her. His palms had been rough, but his touch gentle.
She’d made him swear not to touch her, but now she could think of nothing but the hundred secret things he made her feel with his mouth and his hands, all in a few brief moments.
She curved her hands around her breasts to relieve the ache as she slipped into the tub. The bathwater flowed around her, the warmth seeping into her skin. She laid her head back against the wooden edge and willed her limbs to relax. Even with her eyes closed, all she could see was Ryam standing next to Lady Ling, his face bright with laughter. She had been so easy to overlook, as she had always been. Little Ai Li, sixth child, a daughter among precious sons.
She grabbed the cake of crushed soapbean and scrubbed it over her skin, washing away the dust and grime from the days on the road. A faint jasmine perfume rose from the water, but did nothing to calm her.
No man had ever looked at her the way Ryam had, but would he feel the same about any pretty face? Was that the way of men? She wanted to sink beneath the water. All the women Ryam must have known. Across the span of the Silk Road. Worldly, beautiful women like Lady Ling. Women who wouldn’t shrink away from his kisses.
She stood from the bath, ignoring the slosh of water over the side. Cool air tingled across her skin and she dried herself with a linen cloth. On the bed the servants had laid out several garments. The first was a sheer, long-sleeved robe the colour of rose petals, as fine as the garments she wore in the palace. With a swipe of her arm, she pushed the silk aside and chose the tunic and trousers, slate grey and unadorned. She folded the formless tunic across her front and tied the sash about her waist. Her hair went back into its simple braid.
When she opened the door Ryam was already there, hand raised to knock. For a moment she could do nothing but stare. Her gaze skimmed over the clean, strong lines of his face, no longer covered by the rough stubble of a beard.
She let out a breath. ‘You look so strange.’
He laughed at that. ‘Less like a lion?’
She wanted to run her hands over the smooth skin in disbelief. He appeared so much younger. His mouth took on a teasing, sensuous quality. How would it feel if he were to kiss her now? She found herself wishing that she hadn’t demanded such honour from him.
‘You look charming as always,’ he said through the rushing sound in her ears.
It was like looking at a stranger. Like meeting him once again. She had been holding her breath and she let it out in a rush, fiddling with the neck of her tunic. Her thoughts strayed to the delicate, feminine robe the servants had laid out for her and she berated herself for making such a poor choice. Ryam’s blue eyes sparked as he watched her.
‘Suyin has invited us to have dinner with her,’ he said.
So now it was Suyin instead of Lady Ling.
‘I don’t trust her.’
He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘Our paths have crossed before. She’s a friend.’
‘How does a barbarian befriend an imperial concubine? They are locked away in the inner palace. No man is allowed to speak to them unless he is a eunuch.’
She glanced down, then back up. Ryam’s lips pressed together, forcing back a smile.
‘An interesting story, but a long one,’ he deflected. ‘Lady Ling may be able to help us.’
‘We have no need of her help.’
She didn’t like this woman with her knowing looks and her elegant air of superiority. And Ryam seemed to think so highly of her.
‘Changan is several days’ journey from here and she may sti
ll have influence there.’
Her dislike increased tenfold. ‘You’re different around her.’
‘Different? How?’ He leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the entire passage.
‘You puff your chest out like a—’ She struggled to find something suitably insulting. ‘Like a rooster.’
He only seemed to enjoy it more. ‘A rooster,’ he echoed, grinning wide.
She would have hit him if it didn’t seem so childish. ‘You go on without me. I’m very tired.’
He stopped the door as she moved to close it. ‘Come on. I’m hungry and so are you.’
He ushered her out of the room with a hand at her back. She dragged her feet in protest as he nudged her forwards. He could be just as insufferable as her brothers.
A set of wooden steps led into the main atrium of the house. The servants led them through a side door on to a veranda facing the river. A low table had been set in the open air. Orb lanterns swung from the rafters, the muted candlelight glowing through the waxed paper. Lady Ling stood at the far side, her back to them as she gazed upon the river. If Ailey wasn’t in hiding, she might have appreciated the hospitality.
Ailey grabbed Ryam’s arm before he stepped forwards. ‘Don’t tell her about Li Tao. He could have informants everywhere.’
He nodded without argument, and she was reassured that he still had some sense about him. The lady continued to face the water as they approached. Dusk transformed the swirling water to inky blackness. The breeze caught the edge of her robe and whipped the layers about her. She resembled the brush paintings of immortal beauties that hung from bamboo scrolls.
Their footsteps on the boards must have signalled their approach. Lady Ling started speaking without turning to face them. ‘The August Emperor had this mansion built before his death. I have no need of such splendour, but it pleased the Emperor to do so.’ Placing her hands on the wooden rail, she leaned forwards, and inhaled as if breathing in the fading sunlight and the breeze. ‘I grew up along this river.’
