The Yellow silk r-4

by Don Bassingthwaite

  "You're robbing me," Tycho said bluntly.

  The Hooded looked at him and he caught a glimpse of eyes with all the warmth of ice. "This is a warrior's weapon. A good story might increase its value. Where did you get it?"

  "From a Shou warrior," Tycho said. He, Veseene, and Li had worked out the best story. Tycho had been in favor of a simple tale of acquiring the weapon in the Shou-town in Telflamm. It was quick, anonymous, and all but impossible for the Hooded to contradict. Li, however, insisted on something more. Yu Mao's butterfly swords had passed through the Hooded's hands. He wanted to know how. Tycho sat back and spun out the story-remarkably close to the truth-that Li had proposed. "He came to Spandeliyon looking for revenge on Brin."

  The Hooded said nothing, but he didn't have to: Tycho caught a slight shift in his posture as he leaned forward, eager for word of some misfortune befalling his rival. Tycho stretched out the tale. "Fine figure of a warrior he was, too. All the way from Shou Lung, straight through Telflamm, onto a ship, and here to Spandeliyon. Fiery temper, you could see it in his eyes."

  "When?" demanded the Hooded. His interpreter spoke the word in the same monotone in which she relayed all of his speech, but Tycho caught some of his tone. He was caught in the story.

  "Only a few days ago."

  "What happened?"

  Tycho sighed dramatically. "He never made it to Brin. Lander-you know who Lander is? — got him first. I happened across him in his last moments. He pressed the weapon on me and begged me to see his vengeance on Brin through." He coughed. "I'm not that stupid."

  "No," the Hooded said, "I can see that. Twenty-two for thedao?"

  "I would consider thirty."

  "Maybe. Did this angry warrior say why he wanted vengeance on Brin?"

  The Hooded was fishing for information now. Tycho held back a smile and said casually, "For the death of his brother while Brin was a pirate on a ship called Sow-."

  He blinked as the Hooded stiffened sharply and gloved hands tightened around Li's saber.

  It was enough. Li took a slow, deep breath and drew out the Calishite scimitar. No one reacted.

  Of course, no one could see him either.

  Wily old Veseene's plan had been a good one. Tycho would get himself in to see the Hooded by using the dao and an offer to sell it as bait. Talk alone wouldn't get them the beljurils, though. They needed a way to get past the Hooded's defenses and force their hand physically. They needed magical aid, something more than Tycho could provide.

  And so once everything else was prepared, Veseene had brewed up her triple-strength wasp venom tea. Li had been amazed at the transformation in her as the tea took effect. While her personality had been formidable before, with her palsy temporarily suppressed Veseene stood tall and regal, wondrous and confident. And when she began to sing, it was like listening to the imperial performers whose songs drifted over the walls of the Forbidden City in Kuo Те' Lung, except that Veseene wasn't singing for the Emperor but for him! Magic had filled her song, lending it even greater power. She had reached out and touched him — and he had vanished from sight, completely invisible.

  Spent by the magic, Veseene had collapsed onto her couch. Tycho had almost cried out, but Veseene had warned them this would happen. They had left her in the care of Laera Dantakain and departed. The magic would only last so long, Veseene had said, and it only hid him from the sense of sight, not from touch or hearing. Tycho had done an excellent job of covering for him as they walked into the Hooded's stronghold, keeping doors open long enough for him to pass through and covering up any sounds he made in climbing the stairs.

  It had been a good thing that he had been behind TVcho and the tall guard on the stairs, though. As they had stepped into the Hooded's hall and he had seen the Hooded, Li had frozen. For a moment, he was back in his family's garden, this time on the occasion of his own Blessing Ceremony.

  There had been no betrothed to present him with the tools of a man-Mother had stepped forward with a box containing the dao that was his chosen weapon-but that was tempered by the knowledge that in a month's time he would leave Keelung to take the imperial civil service examinations. A son in the service of Shou Lung was better than a good marriage.

  As Father and Mother and all of the assorted relatives in attendance had returned to the house, Li drew Yu Mao aside.

  "Look!" he said, thrusting the dao into his hands. Yu Mao gave him the knowing gaze of an elder brother already used to the formalities and trappings of adulthood, but drew the dao anyway.

  "Very nice," he said approvingly. He had already reached his full growth. For a silk merchant, he was a powerfully built man, tall and broad. Some day, Li thought, I'm going to be just like him.

  In the end, he had ended up taller, though not so broad, and the dao of his Blessing Ceremony had been lost and replaced twice over. His father wouldn't have recognized his current dao if it had been placed before him.

  But the Hooded was tall and broad and when he drew the dao out of its scabbard, the gesture was so familiar that Li had caught his breath. And when the Hooded gasped at the mention of Sow and a murdered Shou

  Scimitar drawn, he moved closer.

  His foot pressed down on a loose floorboard. A sudden squeal broke the silence of the room. Heads snapped up. The Hooded drew a sharp breath.

  Li lunged.

  Veseene had said that the spell would end of its own accord. She had also said it would end if he attacked anyone. Li saw his own arms, hand, the scimitar flash into being. No need for silence now-he screamed as he slashed out at the Hooded, channeling all of his rage into the blow!

  Suddenly it seemed like everyone was screaming except the Hooded-he was throwing himself back desperately. The edge of the scimitar bit deep into the surface of the table where, a heartbeat before, the Hooded had been sitting. Li wrenched the blade free and whirled around. The Hooded was backing up, dao held warily, defensively. Tycho was shouting his name. The tall guard was shouting for help-"Ambush! Ambush!"

  The Hooded's young interpreter was shrieking in her own voice. She had a dagger clutched in her hand. Wild-eyed, she leaped for him. Li twisted the scimitar around No, she was a child! His argument wasn't with her. He twisted again, thrusting at her instead with his free hand and knocking her back. The Hooded seized the opening, though. He ducked in with a fast cut, as unfamiliar with the dao as Li was with the butterfly swords. The heavy weapon dragged his blow down. Li slapped it aside, spun the scimitar around, and raised it for a killing blow.

  "Li!" Tycho's voice, terrified, cut through his concentration. He glanped back over his shoulder.

  The tall guard had Tycho pinned on the ground, a sword at his throat. The man was breathing heavily. "Drop your sword," he gasped, "or your friend dies!"

  Li hesitated. In that moment, the Hooded sprang back out of reach and the pounding of footsteps announced the arrival of more guards. One of them had a crossbow, cocked and aimed right at him.

  They were caught.

  With a shudder, Li let the scimitar fall from his fingers. He glared at the Hooded. "You…" he hissed in Shou.

  The Hooded ignored him, scrambling to the side of his fallen interpreter. Guards surged in, grabbing Li roughly and twisting his arms up behind him. More guards dragged Tycho to his feet. The Hooded glared at both of them and snarled to his interpreter. "He says get them below and tie them down!" she relayed, the cool detachment she had shown before completely gone. Anger and fear mingled in her eyes. What the Hooded was feeling was impossible to tell. Rage welled up inside Li and he tried to throw himself at the robed man.

  All it earned him were hard punches around his head and torso. The guards seized the chance to give Tycho a few blows as well. The bard tucked his head down against his chest, trying to protect himself at least a little bit. Li stood tall and straight, taking the blows and staring at the Hooded until a jab to his kidneys from the tall guard finally made him twist in pain. "Get them out of here, Cado!" spat the Hooded's interpreter.
/>   The guards dragged them through yet another door and down a flight of stairs, though not the ones that led to the leatherworker's shop. These stairs were dank and slippery and the stink that rose up from below was foul. When they finally reached a level floor, Li could hear water. In feeble torchlight, he caught glimpses of shadowed vaults piled with crates and barrels. He and Tycho were likewise piled into a vault, one with rusty bars across its mouth. Someone produced rope, swiftly tied them hand and foot, and kicked them to the floor. Cold, damp stone slammed into his chest and chin. He tried to twist onto his back. A kick caught him high in the belly, knocking the air out of him.

  For a long moment, all he could do was gasp for breath as the Hooded's guards, laughing and growling, filed out of the vault and slammed the barred door behind them. A lock clicked shut. Their voices moved away and everything was silent except for the sound of water-and Tycho's breathing. Li twisted around and sat up. A torch outside threw dancing light into the cell.

  "Tycho?" he said.

  The bard was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his face flaming red. "What in the name," he slurred softly, "of all that is good and glorious and wise and intelligent were… you… doing? " He sat up and glared at him. "We were going to take the Hooded hostage so we could get the beljurils. We weren't going to try to kill him!"

  Li glared right back at him. "The Hooded is Yu Mao," he spat.

  Tycho's jaw dropped in disbelief. "What?"

  "The Hooded is Yu Mao."

  Li blew out his breath and hung his head against his chest. When the anger that had gripped him in the room above ebbed a bit, he looked up again and forced the words out. "He's my brother, Tycho. When you and Jacerryl described the Hooded last night, I started to wonder. The Hooded came to Spandeliyon only a bit before Brin and just after the Sow vanished. He covered himself entirely and spoke only to an interpreter. He sold Yu Mao's swords to Jacerryl. When I saw him upstairs and from the way he froze when you mentioned the Sow, I knew-"

  "Wait." Tycho shook his head as if trying to clear it and looked at Li again. "Even if you're right, even if the Hooded is Yu Mao, you just tried to kill him! I thought you only wanted to find him!"

  "I do. I did." Li clenched his jaw and heat sprang into his face. "I lied to you, Tycho," he said through his teeth. "I didn't tell you the whole truth. When I saw Veseene, she guessed that, but I couldn't tell her either. I swear I didn't think it would go this far. I thought I would learn what I needed to know from Brin and that I would leave Spandeliyon to find Yu Mao somewhere else."

  In the shadows, Tycho's eyes were narrow. "So," he said coldly, "what is the whole truth? Why did you just try to kill your brother? "

  "Because Tieh Fa Pan didn't see Yu Mao taken hostage by the pirates of the Sow." Li swallowed. "He saw him join them. Yu Mao betrayed the expedition's ship to the pirates. Fa Pan thought that he even organized the expedition's journey to Sembia just so the pirates would have a chance to take the ship. When the pirates attacked, all the members of the expedition except Fa Pan were sent below deck for their safety. Yu Mao murdered them."

  The confession burned in his gut. Tycho's eyes had gone wide and he looked like he had something to say, but Li didn't let him speak; he plunged on. "When Fa Pan went to warn them that the ship had been boarded, Yu Mao attacked him, too. He was the one who wounded Fa Pan. He pushed him overboard to drown. He didn't know that he was spirit folk, though. From the water, Fa Pan watched Yu Mao celebrating with the pirates, laughing with Brin and embracing the pirates' sorceress-captain like a lover."

  His voice failed him. Silence fell. After a time, Tycho asked softly, "Why?"

  Li shook his head. "I don't know. Nobody knows. Fa Pan wrote that he asked Yu Mao the same thing and all Yu Mao said was 'You wouldn't understand.' Fa Pan suspected that he murdered the rest of the expedition-and tried to kill him, too-so that word of what he had done would never get back to Keelung." He closed his eyes for a moment. "If my father hadn't received Fa Pan's letter, the silk families of Keelung would just have assumed the expedition was lost and mourned them accordingly. They might have asked questions, but not many."

  "But because Fa Pan lived long enough to send that letter," Tycho said, "they sent you."

  "No." Li sighed. "My father sent me, Tycho. Rather than face the shame of explaining what his eldest son had done, he told Keelung the same lie I told you. Then he sent me west to find Yu Mao and, if he wasn't already dead, to kill him."

  Tycho gasped. "Sweet chum, Li!"

  "It had to be done, TVcho."

  "You're talking about murdering your brother!"

  "Better me than a stranger! Better me than no one at all." He twisted so Tycho could see his left arm. "That's why my father sent the Yellow Silk with me, TVcho. It's the honor of my family; it's the tradition that binds us together. I carry the greatest treasure of the Kuang with me. That's how important this is."

  "Aren't there courts in Shou Lung? Doesn't your emperor dispense justice?"

  "There are courts. There is justice. There's tradition, too. All three agree. What Yu Mao did must be punished."

  Tycho pressed his lips together. "Punished in secret?" Li looked away.

  "If I do what I have to do," he said quietly, "I will return to Keelung and I will tell my father the truth. To everyone else, I will tell a lie. When I die, I will stand before the Lords of Karma and pray to Fa Kuan, the Immortal of justice, and Chih Shih, the Immortal of lore and tradition, to intercede on my behalf because what I did was necessary."

  This time Tycho didn't answer. Silence stretched out thin.

  Finally, Tycho asked, "Are you certain the Hooded is really Yu Mao?"

  Li nodded.

  "Did he recognize your saber the way you recognized his butterfly swords? "

  "It's called a dao, Tycho, not a saber," said Li. "Sabers are what the Tuigan barbarians use. And no, he couldn't have. He's never seen that particular dao before."

  "Did he recognize you?"

  Li hesitated. Had Yu Mao recognized him? With the hood obscuring his face, it was hard to tell anything. The moment had been so chaotic that any subtle signs would have been lost. Yu Mao certainly hadn't called out to him during their fight or after.

  But I'm not some dao, new forged and plucked at random from a rack, Li thought. I'm his brother. "How could he not have recognized me?" he demanded.

  "What if he's not Yu Mao? "

  "But all of the signs…"

  "I know," Tycho said quickly. "I know." He sighed and tilted his head back. "But if the Hooded is Yu Mao and he was friends once with Brin, they aren't friends anymore. Brin and the Hooded despise each other."

  "Maybe they've had a falling out. If Brin knows the Hooded is Yu Mao, that would explain why he's after me-his rival's brother in his hands," Li said and added in Shou, "Honest folk aren't a bandit's only prey."

  "There's no honor among thieves," Tycho replied in Common. "Li, do me a favor? Before you kill the Hooded, make sure you know who he is?"

  "Kill the Hooded?" grunted a voice from outside their cell. Li twisted around sharply. The tall guard who had met Tycho in the leatherworker's shop-Cado, the Hood-ed's interpreter had called him-was standing on the other side of the bars. Two other guards were with him. All three had nasty looks on their face. "You go fishing with an unbaited hook, don't you?" asked Cado.

  Li shot a glance at Tycho. The bard swallowed and managed a crooked grin. "Bind me," he said, "I don't even use a hook!" He squirmed up to his knees as the tall guard unlocked the cell and swung the barred door open. "Come to let us go?"

  Cado answered by pulling out two smallish canvas bags. Tycho's eyes went wide. "Listen, I think there's been a misunderstanding-"

  "You thought you could take the Hooded." The tall guard jerked a thumb toward Tycho then toward Li. The men with him moved forward, one grabbing Tycho and holding him still, the other pulling Li to his knees as well. Li tried to pull away, but the guard held him tight.

  "Tycho!" Li said
in Shou. "What's going on?"

  "The Hooded isn't just called that because he wears a hood," gulped Tycho in the same language. "They call him that because his victims are usually wearing them when they're-"

  Cado swatted him. "Quiet, you." He pulled a bag over his head and tugged it tight with a drawstring. Tycho gasped and struggled, but the guard just turned to Li.

  "Wait!" Li said desperately. "The Hooded doesn't want us dead!"

  "He does," said Cado. "He doesn't like being attacked. Wants you made an example of." He yanked the bag over Li's head.

  The fabric was rank and stifling. Through it, Li could see the spot of light that was the torch, but everything else was just a series of vague, dark shapes. "Then take a message to the Hooded!" he told the tall guard.

  "Hooded doesn't want to hear messages."

  "He'll want to hear this one," Li insisted. "Just two words. Yu Mao. He'll know what it means."

  "There's a silver raven in it for you," Tycho added. "In my coat pocket. Come on-two words?"

  The tall guard paused and grunted. "All right." Li heard Tycho hiss-Cado probably wasn't any too gentle in obtaining his payment. "Watch them close," he told the other two guards. Footsteps receded. Li closed his eyes and prayed to all nine Immortals that Tycho was wrong and he was right, that it was Yu Mao under that leather hood-and that even if he was going to have to kill his brother, that Yu Mao might want some kind of last word with them first.

  It seemed like forever before Cado's footsteps returned. "Well?" asked Li. "Did he understand?"

  "Yes," said the guard. "He said to get rid of you faster."

  CHAPTER 11

  On the ratty, threadbare couch, Veseene sputtered and coughed suddenly. Laera jumped up from her seat beside the fireplace and went to her.

  "Veseene?"

  The old woman drew a dry, rasping breath. Ty-cho had left a cup of water beside the couch. Laera propped Veseene up a little bit and held the cup to her lips. Veseene sipped at it and nodded. Laera took the cup away and slid a folded blanket under Veseene's head to help her stay upright.