by Jeannie Lin
The chains scraped against the stone floor as they dragged him away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryam flew at the door of his prison and pounded against it until the wood dented and his knuckles were scraped raw. Then, for good measure, he rammed the door with his shoulder. It shook, but held. What he wouldn’t give to go face to face with Li Tao with a sword in his hands. The bastard’s soldiers would get him, but not before he cut the man’s throat. But his hands lay empty. His sword had fallen from his grasp and lay forgotten on the gravel of the Gansu corridor.
His father’s sword. The sword that had kept him alive as they’d fought their way across the desert.
Ailey didn’t have to do this. She didn’t have to sacrifice for him, not after she had fought for so long. He was destined to die lying in the dust with a knife in his ribs anyway. A pointless death. He’d always known it. Ailey was the only one who had ever asked for him to be anything more.
He dropped his forehead against the door. He wasn’t going anywhere. The moment they released him, he’d come back. He would be inviting death, but the thought of death, of nothingness, didn’t bother him. Not when he had nothing left to lose.
He stared around the hut for something, anything to use as a weapon. There was nothing but damp earth and bare walls. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of odds. Rationality would only invite doubt and if he doubted himself for a second he’d lose.
The only way he was leaving without Ailey was when they carried his carcass out of there. Except getting himself killed was the one thing Ailey had begged him not to do.
Slowly he sank to the ground. It came to him then. Ailey had been wrong. He wasn’t a courageous swordsman in the least.
He had never been brave for a single moment. All the times he had rushed into battle, saving Adrian’s life, Ailey’s life—none of it. He could only be fearless with a sword in his hand because he had never cared whether he won or lost.
His father had wasted away needlessly for the woman he loved. Ryam claimed to never mourn his parents, but he had been doing the same, bit by bit. What Ailey thought of as courage was simply his own way of searching for that final drunken duel that would kill him. He had been chasing the falling blade his entire life.
Death couldn’t be the only way, Ailey had told him before turning away. She had carved his name into her beloved tree in a language he didn’t know. There had to be another way to sacrifice and another way to love. She knew how, and he didn’t.
He sank onto the wooden bench that had served as a bed in the cramped enclosure. He needed to conserve his strength instead of spending it in rage. It was time to fight a battle that mattered.
He wasn’t going anywhere. He had meant it when he told Ailey that. He meant it even more now.
Ailey didn’t recognise her own reflection as she sat before the mirror. Her face had been dusted with a sheen of powder and her lips painted cherry-red like the silk of the wedding dress. Red for good fortune, for fertility, for happiness.
‘Everything that you desire, young princess.’ Auntie murmured blessings as she smoothed back Ailey’s hair with careful fingers. ‘Everlasting joy.’
A shadow blocked the door as Auntie bent to slip a pair of pearl earrings into her ears.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ Ailey said.
Li Tao remained at the entrance. By tradition a groom wouldn’t see his bride until they were alone in the wedding chamber. Husband and wife would look upon each other immediately before they became one. After all that had happened, those customs meant nothing to them.
‘Your lover is being released,’ he said coolly. ‘Do you wish to see evidence that he has left safely since I’m a man without honour?’
‘You gave your word. I believe you.’
But she would never trust him.
‘I was watching you with that barbarian.’ His mouth turned down with scorn.
‘Do not talk about him.’
She stiffened as he came close. Auntie continued tucking flowers into her hair, undaunted and invisible in the usual way of servants. Li Tao motioned the old woman aside and stood by the chair.
‘It occurred to me you might consider taking your own life to avoid this marriage.’
The sleeve of his robe brushed her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. How could she endure their wedding bed? Whenever he was near, Li Tao purposefully used his size to intimidate her and throw her off balance. He claimed to have no honour, but took no issue using honour to his advantage.
‘You have my promise,’ she said bitterly.
A low rumble came from outside, growing louder by the second in a pounding rhythm.
‘Your father is here.’
Both of them knew the sound of marching troops. Li Tao left to greet the Emperor. More than a month had passed since the day she had left home in her wedding procession. She was going to marry Li Tao as her parents expected. Outwardly nothing had changed, but she had travelled to the edge of the empire and back. She had fallen in love.
A crier announced the Emperor’s arrival. Taking a deep breath, she went outside to see him standing in the courtyard, his expression grim. The imperial dragon bared its talons on his armour. She went to him, all the while searching his face for a sign of disapproval and disgust.
‘Let us walk,’ was all he said.
Her father clasped his hands behind him as they strolled through Li Tao’s garden. She followed dutifully by his side while a train of attendants shuffled behind them.
‘How is Mother?’
‘Heartbroken.’ Quiet anger vibrated through every fibre of his body.
Swallowing, she bowed her head to acknowledge her part in her mother’s despair. To say anything, to make any excuse would have been disrespectful.
‘Your brother worries every day for your safety. Your grandmother blames herself for your foolishness.’
She nodded and nodded, feeling selfish and unworthy. When she had decided to return, she knew there would be consequences for her act of rebellion.
Father continued, ‘What is this I hear about a foreign swordsman named Ryam?’
Her stomach wound into a tight coil. ‘He saved my life. He’s a good man.’
‘Princess Miya speaks highly of him.’
He gestured and an attendant ran forwards with a letter. Her fingers closed around the thin rice paper. She didn’t open it. Miya was kind to intervene, but it made no difference any more.
‘He is gone. I will never see him again,’ she said in a small voice.
‘We are fortunate Li Tao is generous enough to accept you as his bride despite what you have done.’
‘Generous?’
Her biting tone earned her a sharp look.
‘Yes, he is a powerful ally,’ her father continued. ‘Li Tao is accomplished. He is a capable leader. He fought along with me as well as the August Emperor in battle.’ His voice rose. ‘He is able bodied, not too old. Wealthy. What more could a daughter hope for?’
‘I was trying to protect you,’ she blurted out.
He shook his head impatiently. ‘Your mother was so happy we had made such a good match.’
‘You don’t need to be angry any more. I’ve agreed to marry him.’
She stared down at her feet. The butterfly pattern of her slippers peeked out from the hem of her robe. Butterflies for love, red for happiness. She was clothed magnificently in one lie after another.
‘Your mother was very upset when you left. She thought she might have said something to you to make you run away.’
‘Mother?’ She looked away. ‘It was not Mother.’
Her father nodded. He was satisfied with her answer, but she wasn’t. She stopped, no longer able to walk dutifully beside him.
‘It was not Mother,’ she echoed, her voice rising. ‘It was you.’
He raised his eyebrows. She fortified herself for what she needed to say. What good were all her acts of protest if she couldn’t speak now?
‘Father i
s asking our family to go against all that it has lived by.’ She fell into formal address in her anger. ‘He is asking us to go against honour.’
‘Are you saying that you do not wish to marry Li Tao?’ he asked quietly.
She shook her head, feeling the desperation. He still didn’t understand.
‘You were planning to take Miya as your Empress,’ she said.
‘There were reasons.’
‘There can be no reason.’
The words caught in her throat. Her father had been a giant to her all her life, larger and stronger than anyone. But for once, he was just a man, as fallible as any other.
‘Mother is a good woman. She has given you five sons. How can you listen to advisers and take that away?’ she demanded with more boldness than she had ever dared. ‘You cannot buy respect. You cannot negotiate for it.’
He raised his hand to stop her and she feared she had gone too far.
‘And one daughter,’ he added.
She looked at him, puzzled.
His hand tightened on her shoulder. ‘Five sons and one daughter.’
A gong signalled the tenth hour. The wedding was to begin soon.
‘Do you want to marry Governor Li?’
Ailey stared up at her father. The creases deepened at the corner of his eyes as he waited for her answer. He’d never asked her about what she wanted.
Did it really matter what she wanted? Ryam hadn’t wanted her enough when it mattered and she had sworn to marry Li Tao willingly. Fourth Brother’s spirit no longer called to her. It was her own heart calling now, buried deep as she swallowed her sorrow.
Duty before all else.
The gong sounded again. Auntie hovered nervously, afraid to interrupt the Emperor.
‘I have been sworn to Li Tao by my father, my mother and by my own word.’ She fought to keep her voice steady. ‘The Shen family honours its promises.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
The soldiers led Ryam out of the hut and prodded him towards the forest. Four of his men in his regiment stood beside the road. It was the first time he’d seen them since they were captured. At one point, he’d considered that they might already have been executed. The warlord could still execute them now. No one would ever find a band of barbarians tossed into the thick of the bamboo forest.
Ryam approached his men in a silent parade with a pair of soldiers on each side. The chains weighed down his wrists and ankles. The men were similarly shackled, but he saw immediately that they hadn’t been mistreated. The only injuries evident were ones they’d sustained in the fight.
He wasn’t able to talk to them, but he was brought to the front as they marched down the dirt road. The crash of cymbals came from the direction of the mansion. The wedding procession was beginning. Ailey had bought their freedom with her life.
Part way down the road, the captors stopped to unlock their chains. All of the schemes Ryam had considered through the night came back to him. He’d attack the soldiers with his bare hands. He’d disarm them and take their swords to fight his way back. Desperation would give him the strength to do it.
The cymbals grew louder, accompanied by the sound of drums and horns. His men were watching him carefully. They’d fight if he told them to—unarmed and outnumbered, hundreds of miles from home. Thousands of miles, in truth.
He realised then that all of his daring plans would come to failure.
‘I’m staying,’ he said.
Li Tao’s soldiers tensed when he spoke, not understanding. But he was addressing his men. He turned to the veteran among them.
‘Bertram, take them back to Yumen Guan.’
‘If you stay, we stay.’
And they’d die. This was brotherhood beyond blood. ‘You’ve done enough. This is my fight now.’
The guards reached for their weapons.
‘Róngyù,’ he declared.
The captors paused. He repeated in case his inflection was all wrong the first time. This was no plot. Just a decision he’d finally made.
Róngyù. Honour.
They frowned and looked at one another. He’d learned plenty from fighting alongside Shen An Lu’s soldiers in the palace rebellion. Begging for your life made you an unredeemable coward, but demanding to die the proper way was always taken seriously.
‘Go,’ he said to the men who’d fought with him.
They didn’t like his command, but they obeyed it. They had fought well in the corridor when he’d brought them against insurmountable odds. He wouldn’t let them sacrifice their lives for him. Ailey had once told him she’d rather die than marry Li Tao. He wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself either.
He gave one final nod to Bertram before they disappeared into the bamboo. The captain of the guard shook his head at him, appalled that a barbarian would try to mimic their traditions. But they led him back towards the mansion.
Li Tao’s defence command assembled in the front square along with a regiment of imperial soldiers. At the centre of the congregation, four servants lifted a bamboo sedan carrying a woman in red silk. The soldiers tried to drag him around the back of the house, out of sight.
Once the wedding was done, it would be too late.
‘Li Tao!’ he shouted. And then he shouted his one-word challenge again. Honour.
The captain struck him with the back of his hand.
A murmur snaked through the crowd and the woman pulled the cloth from her face. Ailey. Her mouth fell open, her lips painted scarlet.
She tried to rise and the sedan lurched as the carriers struggled for balance. Li Tao stood on the front step. His soldiers poured out onto the square like a swarm of black ants. ‘Stand down.’
The command came from a man in dragon armour standing beside Li Tao. Emperor Shen stared him up and down before beckoning him forwards.
Ryam moved warily past the gauntlet of drawn swords and bowed to the Emperor. Li Tao’s black eyes looked as if they could pierce armour.
A look of recognition crossed the Emperor’s face. ‘Bái xiá. What is your business here?’ the Emperor asked calmly.
Being referred to as white warrior was a bit better than white demon. Ryam glanced down at his ragged clothing. He hadn’t expected to do much talking. ‘I am here for your daughter.’
‘Take him,’ Li Tao ordered in disgust.
‘Wait.’ Ailey scrambled from the sedan. ‘You promised to release him.’
She stepped between them and faced Li Tao, forming a barrier with her slender form. His warrior girl, still trying to protect him. Li Tao fixed a possessive look on her that made Ryam want to plant a fist in the man’s face.
Ryam stared at the flowers pinned in her hair. ‘I should have said yes,’ he said quietly.
She glanced back at him. Her lips parted to speak.
‘Swordsman.’ The Emperor’s voice rang out over the assembly, cutting off Ailey’s reply. ‘You are disrupting my daughter’s wedding.’
‘I swore myself to Li Tao,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘There is nothing you can do.’
He had no command of the language to say what he needed to say to the Emperor, but he couldn’t go quietly.
‘I’ll challenge Li Tao for her,’ he said loud enough for the entire assembly to hear. ‘For her freedom.’
Ailey grabbed hold of his arm. Her touch was enough to reassure him. How did he ever think he could let her go?
‘I told you I don’t want you getting yourself killed for me,’ she said.
‘This is different.’
He couldn’t explain it to her, but it was different inside.
‘I accept the challenge,’ Li Tao replied calmly. ‘If that is the simplest way to resolve this, then I accept.’ He came down the steps and called for his sword. His dark gaze locked on to Ryam with disdain. ‘Let us put an end to this.’
Ryam removed himself from Ailey’s grasp and directed her away. He rubbed at the raw marks on his wrists from the chains.
‘I don’t have a weapon.’
&nb
sp; ‘Use mine, Swordsman.’
Emperor Shen held his sword high and tossed it towards Ryam. The blade arched through the air, landing at his feet. A pulse of energy filled him as he gripped it. Once again he had a sword in his hand. He bowed his head briefly in the Emperor’s direction, thanking him.
Ailey looked over the bruises and scrapes on his face. Her eyes danced with colour, reflecting frustration, hope and fear.
‘I love you,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘I’m going to win.’
The disrupted wedding party moved towards the rear of the compound with him and Li Tao at the lead. Ailey and her father trailed behind them, followed by the rest of the assembly.
He and Li Tao walked side by side, neither of them looking at the other. The warlord was nearly as tall as Ryam was, with broad, bone-crushing shoulders.
‘You have no right to her,’ Li Tao rumbled beside him as they neared the battleground.
‘You don’t own her,’ Ryam retorted.
He caught the way Li Tao’s knuckles tightened on his sword. In the short walk to the courtyard he picked up an array of signals about his opponent: the familiar way he held his sword, the steadiness of his gait. If he was worth anything as an opponent, Li Tao would be doing the same.
They took to opposite ends of the courtyard. Ryam swung the blade, testing its weight. Double-edged and straight with a dragon etched near the hilt. They called it the jian, the sword of gentlemen. Its light weight belied its deadliness. He had faced them, but never wielded one.
‘Everything you’ve got,’ Ryam murmured, keeping his line of sight on Li Tao as he bowed.
Li Tao’s eyes flashed cold like a viper before the strike. Ryam didn’t know if he understood, but he returned the bow.
In the stillness before the fight, he searched for Ailey. She stood beside her father, a scarlet beacon as a cool wind drew up from the depths of the canyon to stir the air around them. This was no drunken brawl. This was the one fight that mattered. She had chosen him once. He would have to convince her to choose him again.
