by T. A. Miles
FOR MANY DAYS, Alere, Guang Ci, and Xu Liang’s guards—all but the eldest of them—joined Zhu Meng’s guards on hunts throughout the city in search of the man who had appeared at the curse location. It seemed that he was nowhere to be found. No one had been able to locate anyone fitting the appearance of Lei Kui either. Xu Liang began to feel that it was unlikely that either of them had any cause to linger. They had planted their own seeds of destruction, just as the governors had. Chaos had been sprung, this time in the form of blight; illness and elevated turmoil that would destroy the Imperial City if allowed to carry on.
Envoys had been sent to Du with the hopes of putting off Xu Hong’s promised uprising. A man had also been sent to the mountains in the south with a letter for Che Wen Tai, requesting that he continue to house Ma Shou and with an inquiry as to the pyromancer’s progress. Xu Liang hoped to learn whether or not any bout of illness had manifested in one who had been directly touched by the necromancer.
It was within the same week of the envoys being sent out that word finally returned from Tzu.
TARFAN WATCHED the letter from Xu Liang’s man drop to the floor in a heap of heavy Fanese parchment hitting polished wood. The action was followed by Xu Liang simply walking away from it. It would be a lie to claim that the scene—graceful as a man like Xu Liang might unconsciously have made it—wasn’t in the least bit upsetting. Tarfan felt his gut fill with minor boulders of concern, tumbling around like indigestion. It was minor, but instant, and it put the entire affair into an even worse light than it had been festering in already.
Damn the blameworthy in all of this! Not but a season ago, Tarfan was trekking across the Fanese countryside alongside his fellow elder, spending time with the man’s grandchildren and amusing the lot of them with tall tales that he was a goblin from the hills. Meanwhile, the lads were winning tournaments and there was a wedding on the horizon. For a time, they all felt a greater sense of peace. And now…this.
Tarfan watched Xu Liang stand at the window to his office, looking out of it like he might just have spent the last of his brilliance and he hadn’t another idea to save any of their lives. Of course, that was blasted nonsense, and Xu Liang knew it.
It was Er Chiong who stepped forward and retrieved the letter his superior had discarded. The man began to roll it up.
That was more than a dwarf could endure. “Well, what disaster has been served upon us now?”
Xu Liang scarcely looked in his direction. He did display a peeved frown, which was a good sign, in Tarfan’s book. Give him anger, over despair. There had never been a thing of value bought with panic or surrender. Tarfan felt assured that Tristus especially would have agreed with him in that.
“The kingdom of Tzu has become aware of the conditions here,” Xu Liang said. “They are attributing it to the curse upon the Song and they are giving their support to Xun. The southern kingdoms of Sheng Fan have declared war upon the Empress.”
IN RESPONSE to the report from Tzu, a meeting was held among the Empress’ officers, including the Supreme, Fortress, and Cavalier Generals. The Barbarian Generals were also brought in, among which Guang Ci had come to be regarded for his association. The only two bearers excluded from the honor—as Xu Liang chose to regard it—were himself and the Empress.
“They’ve been quiet for too long,” Yuo Shang growled while he paced the office of the Chancellor. “We might have known.”
“We might have, but that our attentions have been constantly diverted elsewhere,” Hao Feng declared. “Ha Ming Jin must have planned this! He deliberately occupied our eyes to keep attention away from his plans with Yuan Feng!”
“He must be responsible for this plague as well,” Huang Shang-san said. “Just as he has been harboring Han Quan, who set the dragon upon the city. It was Ha Ming Jin’s aim to weaken us and to strike!”
“I will not credit every adversity the Empress has faced to Ha Ming Jin’s strategy,” Xu Liang said to all of them. “I believe the conditions here are poorly timed and that Xun and Tzu both are taking advantage.”
“Wolves!” Yuo Shang bellowed. His outburst brought the words of Che Wen Tai to the front of Xu Liang’s mind.
Who are the wolves and who are the vultures?
Xu Liang looked at Yuo Shang, though the Supreme General could not have intended to draw the memory forward. He considered that Che Wen Tai might have been referring, in some way, to the necromancer at the time that the comment had arisen in his dream. In the greater sphere, it would seem that the wolves and the vultures were not individuals, but the kingdoms. Like wolves, Xun and Tzu would take advantage of injury. Like vultures, Ying and Du would sweep in to claim the remains.
Eventually, Xu Liang said, “To keep the vultures away, one must not feed the wolves.”
“How are we to keep wolves from feeding?” Tristus wondered.
And Alere said, “By hunting them.”
THERE WERE enemies on all sides. Xu Liang explained this to the Empress, though she slept through most of what he had to tell her. He also detailed his plans to her—a strategy that had been devised to urgently address the threat from the south—and on one or two occasions received acknowledgment. At one point she smiled, and he suspected it was the sound of a familiar voice bringing peace to her dreams.
“Duty is upon all of your servants,” he said to her quietly. “As it never has been before. We will do all that we can to clear the path to peace for the Empire, and in honor of your ancestors.”
Hands came to rest on his shoulders. The contact failed to alarm him, though he had not been immediately aware of Shirisae’s presence. Curiously, it was becoming a comfortable habit of hers; to arrive where he did not expect her, but where he was always touched to find her. They were not yet married, but already he felt the bond of husband to wife with her.
“She’s been holding her own,” Shirisae said of the Empress. “I’m confident that when this passes, she will still be with us.”
Xu Liang believed that as well, in part because he felt that to fear overly was to yield to the curse—whether it was real or not.
“I believe the worst of it is passing,” Shirisae said next. “Only two handmaidens and one guard became ill within the palace itself. And no one has died.”
“There have been few deaths reported throughout the city,” Xu Liang confirmed. “Not many of my fellow officers have fallen and no one in my house has been affected. Still, I worry that we may not have seen the worst potential.”
“What do you mean?” Shirisae asked.
Xu Liang stood. One of Shirisae’s hands followed his sleeve down to his hand, and they walked together to the balcony of the Empress’ temporary residence. When her symptoms had fully passed, she would take her previous chambers once again.
“I have not been able to solve the puzzle of the cursed lot,” he said to Shirisae while they stepped into the veiled light of a half-moon behind clouds. “I have also not had any further contact with either the necromancer or the Spirit of Death that I’m aware of.”
“Which of them do you think has been visiting upon your dreams?” Shirisae asked, transferring her hand to the railing when they arrived at it.
“I believe it’s both,” he answered, though shortly after the words were formed, he began to rethink them. “Or perhaps not. Perhaps it is a third party.”
“The girl,” Shirisae said, letting him know that she had seen some of what had been shown to his spirit at the school.
Xu Liang nodded. “I have not deciphered who she is or what she may represent. I suspect she is someone close to Lei Kui. A sister, perhaps…”
“His twin,” Shirisae suggested. She did so with an air of knowing.
Xu Liang looked at her, considering. He had not been able to discern any specific relationship between the ghost and the young impression of Lei Kui, but the fact that she had her own twin might have given her insight that he could not comprehend.
“There is nothing that can affect either my spirit or D’m
itri’s without each of us knowing,” Shirisae explained. “Though we do not know precise events, we…understand things. I know that his child was born successfully since I’ve been away, though I do not know whether it is male or female. Likewise, he knows that I have found my husband, though he may not have discerned that it’s you.”
“I see,” Xu Liang replied. “Though, that may be a trait among elven twins uniquely.”
“It may be,” Shirisae admitted. “But I would have believed once that if I was taken from my brother in body, I would have stayed with him in spirit.”
“Once?”
“My spirit is tying itself to another. That may suggest that the girl could have been a lover, but for the fact that he was not even twenty, based upon your dreams and the story Che Wen Tai told to us. I fail to believe that children may form such intense bonds with anyone outside of their family, so it seems doubtful to me that the relationship would have been romantic. However, the bond of twins is difficult to challenge, since they’re bonded to one another before birth. In my opinion, they are at least siblings and probably twins.”
Xu Liang nodded, considering her logic. He decided it was a possibility, but there was no way to know from the Imperial City. “I think we will have to journey to Tiong Zhong when there is time, so that we may locate the village of Lei Kui’s childhood.”
“Either that, or we’ll have to find someone left alive who knew him as a young person,” Shirisae offered.
“There may be no other way to confirm who the girl is, and I feel that the girl is the key to the necromancer’s puzzle…and also that the necromancer’s puzzle is a message.”
“The consequence of not deciphering it is death,” Shirisae said, completing his logic for him.
“The death of many,” he confirmed.
OVER THE FOLLOWING weeks, small forces of men led by skilled and accomplished generals were moved to various fortresses and outposts in the south of Ji. Miao Yuntai was already in place with Zhou Biao at the extended border leading into Xun. Further troops would be sent and an outpost would be established at Fa Leng for reinforcement, connected with Chu Yao Castle. Zhi Shen would receive similar treatment on the border between Ji and Tzu by combining the forces already in the southwest Changang Province. There were troops to be consolidated from Zhi Ping, Zhi Yu, and Zhi Gan. A strong unit would be sent from the Imperial City for support. As well, there would be a fleet assembled at the coastal city of Jianang, which lay to the south and east. The southern kingdoms would be approached on three sides.
In order to properly execute such a plan, Xu Liang determined that the north and west had to first be secured. The west became his primary focus. Xu Hong was stubborn and often governed by a greed for stature and power, but his ire was as fleeting as a passing storm. The worst of it never lasted for long. The problem with Xu Hong had always been that it could reform whenever conditions were ideal. Xu Liang would strive for a more lasting agreement between Du and Ji. Perhaps he would also attempt a more lasting peace between himself and his father.
It was in the Imperial Orchard where he was approached by Song Bin Ce with her report on the Empress; that she was maintaining her strength. As well, the handmaidens who had fallen ill seemed not to be getting worse and none others had fallen. Xu Liang would not illusion himself with notions of the blight passing. All around him, the peach trees remained barren, as if winter still held its cold fingers around them.
He thanked Song Bin Ce for her words and her efforts, and she departed back toward the Pavilion of Ancestral Protection. Along her route, she was passed by Shirisae, who had adopted a very autonomous role within the Empress’ private court since the season began. In some ways, she appeared to have followed the lead of Song Bin Ce, adopting some of the matron’s leadership. Xu Liang suspected that, at the center of it, Shirisae had simply grown accustomed to her surroundings and to the women around her, and had resumed her own sense of leadership.
“I’ve come to a decision,” the fire elf said when she arrived near enough.
“A decision?” Xu Liang invited.
“On how I’m going to assist you with the necromancer’s puzzle,” she answered. She stood across from him beneath the boughs of trees that were currently refused the grace of Mei Qiao’s season. Her chin was raised, suggesting that she anticipated resistance. “I’m going to make the journey to Tiong Zhong in your place.”
Unfortunately, she had anticipated correctly. “You cannot,” Xu Liang told her plainly.
“I can,” Shirisae countered. “It’s connected to land I’ve already traversed. With a guide, I will have no trouble arriving at Tiong Zhong. I will meet you back here before the march back into Xun.”
Xu Liang was shaking his head before she’d finished. “Shirisae, the risks are tremendous.”
“And have been since I left Vilciel,” she told him. “I don’t see how anything has changed.”
Xu Liang paused deliberately, not to consider her argument or to in any way dignify it, but rather to avoid a needless feeling of disappointment. He said, “I know that your vision is clearer than that.”
Shirisae dropped her gaze momentarily, allowing him that truth. And then she said, “You cannot be everywhere, in spite of you or the Phoenix. You cannot accomplish everything. That’s why you assembled the Swords to begin with, and I know that you’re well aware of that.”
Her truth was also valid. It seemed unlikely that either of them would obtain the advantage in this conversation by way of exchanging truths. The only hope of accomplishing the upper hand would be to press matters involving placement and position within Sheng Fan.
As bearers, they were all equal, but if she were to take the tone of a general, even above his betrothed, then Xu Liang would be inclined to act solely in his role as Imperial Tactician. It occurred to him while he drew up his political battlements against her assault of insistence and stubbornness, that if he intended to regard her properly as a general…then he had to utilize her skills appropriately and without allocating her to any special category of risk, in spite of their personal developments.
Finally, Xu Liang bowed, yielding to the point she had made. “You will have a unit of bodyguards to accompany you to Tiong Zhong.”
She raised her chin again, though not in a demonstration of victory. Instead, her face was lifted in order to reach his when she closed the space between them. He was slow to receive what he hadn’t been prepared for, but he received the caress all the same and afterward, he held her, disregarding propriety for the sake of comfort.
SHIRISAE ARRIVED at the stable beside the houses of the north court equipped with Firestorm and a flattering pairing of her Phoenix armor and Fanese layers of soft black armor over a green shirt. The hardened leather surcoat of sorts was rimmed with a tortoise pattern in silken threads that were shades of green, gold, and a fiery orange. Though it may not have been the point, Tristus could only say that it complimented her beautifully. However, he overlooked saying anything while he helped her ready Kirlothden by handing off the various components she required for the task. He felt a good deal of fear over what was to come, but also a tremendous amount of energy to see it through, even if seeing it through meant all of them heading in separate directions. For now, Shirisae would be the first of them to go. Xu Liang would follow, though he would head west to negotiate terms with the governor who happened also the be his father.
“You will be careful,” he eventually said when words returned to him.
“I will be,” Shirisae promised while she adjusted Kirlothden’s saddle straps. “As will you, Alere, Guang Ci, and Xu Liang. We’re all surviving our tasks.”
“You’ve decided, then,” Tristus said with a small smile.
She looked him squarely in the eye. “I have.”
“Let us not forget the dwarves, then, shall we?”
Tristus turned to look at Tarfan as he entered the stable with a small pack. “Where are you off to, Master Fairwind?”
“North, pup,�
�� the dwarf informed him. “I’ll be headed north. And where will you be off to?”
“I believe I’m to go south,” Tristus answered. “Tzu, it’s called.”
“Is it now?” the dwarf mumbled behind his beard.
Tristus knew that he’d struggled a bit with the pronunciation of the kingdom, but he doubted that Tarfan’s expression of smugness was justified, since he’d not heard the dwarf attempt to say it without first fabricating a sneeze.
“I’ve been told I’m going to sea,” Alere said when he arrived.
“What does an elf know of sailing?” Tarfan demanded to know.
“As much as a dwarf, I suspect,” was Alere’s answer, one which Tristus quietly smiled at.
“These feet are for trails, not decks,” Tarfan declared. “Venture forth on your own, lad, and try not to be swallowed by the wyrm I’ve been reading up on.”
“Reading,” Tristus blurted with a light laugh. “You know that not one of us can actually read Fanese. You mean you’ve been collecting stories from Gai Ping.”
“Aye, and I wrote it down in my journal, and I’ve since read and reread it in my own familiar handwriting.” The dwarf punctuated his words with a jab of his forefinger in Tristus’ direction. Then he looked toward Shirisae, who had been busily paying no attention to any of them. “Now, who am I riding with?”
“Wan Yun is coming,” Shirisae answered. “You can ride with him.”
Tarfan leaned to look out into the yard beyond the stables. “Looks as if Wan Yun isn’t the only one to accompany us, lass.”
“Xu Liang arranged for a unit of four men to come along.”
“Ah,” Tarfan replied, his gaze shifting about in a way that had Tristus look toward the yard himself. He had just spotted the young lady on a deep brown mare, dressed quite delicately in layers of green, when the dwarf asked, “Who’s the other lass?”
“Pang Xizhi,” Shirisae told him. “She’s my handmaiden. Apparently, my gaining station requires me to have one.”
