by T. A. Miles
Winter was upon the Imperial City soon afterward. A tournament held indoors placed Guang Ci, Tristus, and Alere quite high, proving that they had been accomplishing much during their training. A match between Guang Ci and Tristus came to a draw. The second attempt saw Guang Ci the victor. Paralleling them was Alere and Tian Qi. After an elongated affair of stalking and strategy, it was Tian Qi who defeated an Alere without Aerkiren. Xu Liang suspected it might have tilted in the other direction, had the Swords been used, but that was not the spirit of the tournament, and Alere’s loss was yet a victory, proving that he had acquired tremendous skill with Fanese techniques. He and Tristus both had, the latter of them continuing to fight with a spear, though it could not be the Dawn Blade. It was Guang Ci who claimed the event overall, surprising many who had known the younger general previously as either a less experienced foot soldier or a bodyguard whose station would not invite him to partake of such challenges.
The Black Dragon General was awarded by the Empress and publicly commended by Xu Liang as well as by Yuo Shang. It was not long afterward that a letter arrived from Shirisae, speaking of how she would have liked to have taken part in the tournament and that Xu Liang should have also. Xu Liang wrote back to her that it was not customary for court officials—nor for their wives—to partake of such events, and he did not tell her of the smile her words inspired.
It was during the second and bleakest month of winter that the Empress called for a meeting of the governors to take place just before spring’s return. Once again, Ha Ming Jin sent a representative. Yuan Feng came with much complaint while Xu Hong arrived late, and Xiang Wu brought an unusually ill tone with him. Xu Liang prepared himself to hear and answer their grievances.
“MY LORD HA MING JIN protests the measures taken against him at Fa Leng, and at Jin Fu Castle. He regards Miao Yuntai as a betrayer and a criminal and insists that the Empress not only return his territory to him, but that Miao Yuntai be arrested and dealt with.”
“A criminal,” Xiang Wu echoed in a mildly acerbic voice. “The castle belonged to the Empress to begin with, as does Bei Xo. You should return to Xun and remind him.”
The Xun emissary frowned indignantly, though still bowed in deference to his senior.
“And how would you take such notice?” Xu Hong asked Xiang Wu, positioned opposite him on the floor before the Empress’ throne. “Would you surrender Dhong Castle contritely, were you to be reminded that it and all the land surrounding it has merely been on loan?”
“Isn’t it?” Xiang Wu returned, his expression of familiar disgust with the man he had long regarded an unfortunate rival.
“He Jung’s palaces belong to the Xu family,” Xu Hong informed. “They were built by the Xu family, long before the boundaries of the Empire ever reached to the west.”
“At every turn, you remind us all that the Xu family hails from savages.”
Xiang Wu’s words might have once provoked physical objection from Xu Hong, but they were both of an age that repressed such an urge now.
At the moment, Xu Liang was not eager to claim either of them, and he wondered how noticed Xiang Wu’s risk was by others. His constant verbal gestures toward the darker complexion and coarser hair of the Xu family would tend to draw greater notice to the fact that Xu Liang resembled none of his paternal family members. His differences could be put to Xu Mi, yes, but under the circumstances, it would seem that observers might more readily take notice of the resemblances to Xiang Wu.
“Let us speak of savages,” Xu Hong continued, his glare lingering for a time on the Ying governor. Eventually, it transferred to Xu Liang and others of the Empress’ immediate staff. “Artifacts given to us by the gods…in the hands of barbarians, who take refuge in the Imperial City!”
“The Barbarian Generals stand among heroes!” Hao Feng returned. “It was in their hands that three of the gods’ weapons were delivered and wielded, on behalf of the people of Sheng Fan—against a foe sent from the hells to take advantage of the turmoil we’ve been breeding in selfish ignorance!”
Xu Liang was impressed with the new chancellor’s fervor. He had shed his early wariness over outsiders, convinced by their deeds. It seemed that many of the officers of the court had been so inclined, each at their own pace. But Jianfeng could not be, as Xu Hong put it, a refuge for three of the bearers. Word would have to spread, not only in gaining the trust of the population, but in rising over words spoken against their valor. If Xu Hong were to convince the people of Du that the Empress had granted favor to the unworthy, it could create greater opposition against Song policy and against Song rule altogether.
Unfortunately, Xu Hong might have to be mollified until he could be convinced of the benefit of the outside bearers. That would require learning precisely what it was he wanted, and then deciding what could reasonably be provided.
Argument among the officials ensued for some time. Allowing it was a method by which the Empress allowed them to let go whatever anger they had arrived with, so that they might feel heard. And also it was a means that provided the Empress to assess the various positions of the governors in their own, unchecked words to one another. It had been a ritual to conference started by Song Bao, which all of the governors had grown comfortable with. Undoubtedly, they had felt more in the audience of a peer with Song Bao. By now, they were simply accustomed to opening meetings in such a manner.
Eventually, Song Da-Xiao had heard enough and called for silence, which she received—even from the most malcontent among them. “The annexation of Jin Fu and its surrounding territory shall not be rescinded,” she said, addressing the Xun envoy first. “Miao Yuntai has revealed much on the usurper motivations of Ha Ming Jin. Xun will comply with the Five Kingdoms Resolution. That is my final word.”
The official from Xun bowed and said no more for the moment.
“The Barbarian Generals are to be held as officers of the Empire,” the Empress said next, to all of them. “They have already received my blessing and titles befitting their deeds. It was my father who first demonstrated interest in the outer realms, and in bringing all of the Swords together. Their presence is Song Bao’s legacy, and his gift to the people of Sheng Fan, that he might continue to protect the Empire in spirit. In honor of that legacy, the Imperial Tutor has accepted a match proposed to him by the gods, through his alliance with the outsiders. I have seen the legitimacy of that match, and have blessed it.”
Xu Liang refrained from looking at the Empress, so as not to demonstrate surprise, though it shocked him to hear her account. He had not fully considered that she might look at it that way. Perhaps Shirisae had explained the circumstances of the Phoenix to her, and further awakened Song Bao’s openness and curiosity in Song Da-Xiao.
Those not aware of the forthcoming marriage exchanged looks with one another, expressing a variety of tones, from concern to amaze. Xu Liang noticed that Xu Hong appeared less concerned, and that Xiang Wu scowled with disapproval.
The Withdrawal of Winter
THE OFFSPRING of the dragon had been the final topic of the conference. The Empress ordered that the young dragons were to be hunted throughout the territory of the Empire. Successful hunters would be rewarded by local officials, who would report the amount of rewards granted. The hopeful tally was to be no less than seventy. This was based upon an estimate made taking into consideration the number of creatures killed during the original assault, the number Alere and the others had estimated leaving the tunnel, and the size of the nest area. It seemed likely that many of them would not survive to maturation, based upon their needs—as illustrated by the environment the parent dragon had made in the underground—and also upon the fact that they were small yet, and easily taken for birds. Some had probably already been killed unintentionally. Agents of the Empress would be alert to reports of curious birds coming in from remote parts of the Empire. It was also decreed that no adult dragon should be provoked, should one be encountered. In many towns and villages that would be considered a gen
eral rule, but the offer of a reward might heighten the ambitions of the unwise.
Xu Liang was surprised that Xu Hong had not issued any demands, but perhaps he was holding them in reserve for a smaller audience. When one of Xu Hong’s officers presented Xu Liang with an invitation to join his father that evening for wine and conversation, he suspected that was true.
Xiang Wu was not interested in waiting, however. He called for the attention of Xu Liang personally, immediately following the departure of Xu Hong’s man and any others who had been lingering nearby.
“‘A match proposed by the gods’,” the Ying governor said at once, clearly unable to contain himself. “That’s preposterous, and you know it.”
Xu Liang bowed his head, in apology for the forthcoming argument. “It was not an embellishment, Lord Xiang Wu.”
Xiang Wu’s expression had waxed somewhat smug in the moments prior to Xu Liang’s response. A look more of shock entered his features afterward. It was swiftly followed with anger. “You intend to take a barbarian wife?”
“Yes,” Xu Liang replied.
The simplicity of his statement seemed to further outrage his natural father. His jaw actively tensed. “I have misjudged you,” Xiang Wu said.
The words stammered against Xu Liang’s heart, drawing a pause from him. In the silence, he inclined his head once more. “That is possible,” he admitted, with no satisfaction.
Xiang Wu’s hesitation was clearly only to contain himself against shouting. The level of his withheld anger distressed Xu Liang. He had been criticized by him before, but this was new.
“You’re a fool!” Xiang Wu said, scarcely suppressing his volume. “Song Da-Xiao is infatuated with you! Marry her, and take control of this empire before it falls to ruin!”
Xu Liang found himself nearly unable to look at his father during his outburst. Had it been delivered by Xu Hong, he would have expected it, but he was unprepared for this from Xiang Wu.
“You will stand idly by and watch the Empire rend itself apart,” Xiang Wu accused. “While you serve these selfish whims of yours…justifying them with the foolish dreams of Song Bao. Until the Five Kingdoms are abolished, the Empire will never know peace! As long as the child that rules us believes her predecessors’ policies are wise, she will continue to lead us to our downfall.”
Xu Liang felt anger beginning to form over disappointment, pushing away any sympathy he might have once had for Xiang Wu’s point of view. “The abolishment of the Five Kingdoms resolution will not be achieved through acts of deception or of overthrowing. It will occur through a gradual amendment of policy.”
Xiang Wu dismissed the idea with a push of his hand through the air. The motion had less force than his words, but still could be considered hostile. “Xu Hong has affected you with his stupidity after all. You’ve witnessed his loyalty, and he is currently the best ally the Empress has. So long as you insist on continuing to raise Song Bao’s child instead of creating heirs with her, you will not have my support.”
He paused and merely watched Xu Liang, perhaps in giving him the time to see his argument in a greater light than it produced on its own merit.
Xu Liang felt the passing of many phrases that might have asserted the Empress’ position and his own, and that might even have reminded Xiang Wu of his station. They drifted by like fish around the net of a sleeping fisherman. In his present lack of skill to speak, he managed only to bow.
Xiang Wu took it for acceptance of his terms, and departed in a rush of temper.
Xu Liang watched him to the door, where he was joined by his primary bodyguard, and also his youngest son. Xiang Wei attempted to get their father’s attention to no avail, and looked into the hall afterward, perhaps to see what manner of antagonism he had fled from. For an instant, Xu Liang met the gaze of his youngest brother, who stood wrapped in the elegance of his station as the Peacock heir, framed by the open doors of the throne room of the Empress. A sensation of tremendous distance filled Xu Liang in that moment, followed by something he could not as easily label. And then Xiang Wei was gone.
In the emptiness that settled, Xu Liang came to realize that the throne room had not been emptied entirely. Yet again, he detected the presence of an elf.
SHIRISAE SLID BEHIND the column behind the area of the throne, deciding she would rather not be seen eavesdropping, though eavesdropping had not been her intent. She desired only to look upon the beauty of Xu Liang, not to impede upon his conversation. It was not surprising to her that he was party to arguments with other officials. His role was hat of a diplomat, but also of an enforcer. Not everyone would be satisfied with the Empress’ decisions, nor of the manner in which her officers carried them through…not even his own father.
What Shirisae had heard from the governor of the Northern Kingdom carried personal inflection. The words were spoken at a speed and with such anger that it was not possible for her to decipher them clearly. She was not yet a master of the language. Admittedly, her skill was only serviceable. She suspected both men were also using terms or even dialect that required a broader grasp of Fanese. Regardless, she could not say that she was forming a high opinion of Xiang Wu, outside of who he had produced for a child.
“You will be missed,” Xu Liang said to her, his voice carrying across the openness of the chamber. “You should return to the Empress’ side.”
Shirisae could not be surprised over being discovered. Still, she attempted to save face by staying where she was. “She’s in the clutches of her handmaidens and won’t be released until she’s been appropriately costumed for the next set of events. Also, Taya is watching out for me.”
“I’m glad that you’ve integrated, even if only temporarily.”
“It’s different than what I’m used to, even at home,” Shirisae admitted. “It isn’t insufferable, though. I feel as if I’ve acquired a flock of sisters.”
“In a way, you have.” His words carried from a different angle than his original position and a silence followed.
Shirisae listened for a few moments, wondering if he’d gone. She hadn’t heard his footsteps, but she also knew that he had his own way of walking as silently as elves. It also might have been that he was upset by his previous conversation with the governor.
Leaning to her left, she peered around the column at a vast and apparently empty space. A draft moved through, lifting the edges of the lighter banners. A sensation of warmth rose in the air to her right and she turned to face Xu Liang as he came around the column. She was not startled, except by the heightened awareness of his nearness. His spirit was exceedingly bright, and in this moment held the heat of sunlight. She longed to be enfolded in that brilliance.
“I appreciate all that you’ve done, Shirisae,” he said, adding his voice to words he had already put in his letters.
“My efforts are for you,” she replied. “But also for the Empress, as I come to know her better. She’s very young, and…like Alere…she’s very strong, in spite of all that she’s lost and all the adversity she faces.”
The words brought a slight smile to Xu Liang’s lips, and he reached out his hand.
Shirisae took it, settling her fingers over his. She watched him study that point of contact and understood that his mind was fast at work. It made her wonder about all the conversations that had taken place in the throne room that day. She wondered if the Empire was any nearer to resolution regarding its internal conflict, or if attention would still be divided between the awakening of chaos and the battling among the kingdoms. What would the five armies of the Empire do if a sixth army appeared…one of shadow? One that was possibly led by a dragon even greater than the foe she and the others had faced in the west court of the city?
Would that stop them? Or would they insist on resisting the guidance of their superiors? Shirisae included the gods in that class and it occurred to her in so doing that Chaos was also considered a god, and that some may have been taking their guidance from it.
Xu Liang lifted his gaze
to hers, then said, “You should return.”
Shirisae didn’t argue, though she didn’t necessarily agree. Moving away from the column, she carried Xu Liang’s hand with her for a few steps, before letting go and proceeding toward the exit the Empress and her entourage had taken.
XU LIANG TRAVELED across the snow-dusted yards of the city, from the middle court to the north. Tough his home was nearby, that was not his destination. He went to the Hall of The Grand Ministers, where a meeting of a number of the officers of the court would commence. Neither the governors nor any of their agents would partake of this affair; it was solely for the Empress’ immediate officials to summarize and organize what had been discussed before the Empress. Xu Liang would later take their consensus and his own advisement to Song Da-Xiao.
The building housed several offices and ran the length of three pavilions that were placed parallel. It was at the Night Pavilion, off the southwestern corner of the Hall of the Grand Ministers, where Xu Liang drew Blue Crane to a gradual stop.
The pavilion was an open design, guarded at the entrances by the dogs of Zan Dexiu. The statues were smaller than those the dragon had destroyed when it came through the Temple of Divine Tranquility, but they maintained the same ferocity of their features. They signified the darkest aspects of the mind, the places where fears were formed. It was fear, mostly of what people could not see or decipher. The minds of men rebelled against confusion and in their rebellion, they often failed to equip themselves with the proper tools to sort through that confusion. They armed themselves with weapons and took violent action instead.
Xu Liang considered that, regarding the Swords, he may have done similarly. Or perhaps there were some who believed that he had. It was true that he still knew very little about what they actually faced, whether it was a state of affairs or a specific enemy.
