Four Barbarian Generals: Dryth Chronicles Epic Fantasy (Celestial Empire Book 3)

by T. A. Miles

  Tarfan nodded, though his brow was raised. “Can’t have you traveling alone with a troupe of men, can we?”

  Shirisae may have been amused, though she scarcely showed it when she looked at the dwarf and said, “No.”

  Tristus smiled as discreetly as possible, and nothing more was said before Xu Liang arrived. The mystic carried a thin book in hand, bringing it directly to Shirisae, who turned to receive it.

  “I’ve complied all that I could remember from my dreams,” he said to her. “Please, gather only what information is relevant and return as quickly as possible.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  The book was transferred. Afterward, Xu Liang’s hand lifted to the back of Shirisae’s head and he gently kissed her forehead. The smile on Shirisae’s face was perhaps the gentlest Tristus had ever seen her.

  SHIRISAE HAD been seen off in the company and safety of men who were all proven in their station, and one young woman, whom Song Bin Ce had undoubtedly insisted upon, on the Empress’ behalf. Xu Liang had not thought of it before and appreciated that Song Bin Ce did. Song Lu’s widow had been indispensable since the loss of her husband. Her dedication and familial grace were held in the highest regard. It was unfortunate that Han Quan had attempted to make her feel unworthy, but satisfying that she had not allowed it. She possessed the loyalties and sensibilities of her father.

  And now it was time for Xu Liang to address his own father—the man who was known as his father. It meant leaving instruction with Alere and Tristus, as he would not be available for instruction or guidance for at least a month. The journey to He Jung was as lengthy as one to Dhong Castle. The only advantage to heading west instead of north—or even south—was the more passable terrain. There would be no mountains.

  “You will take your orders from Yuo Shang,” Xu Liang told Alere and Tristus while he prepared items in his office for another trip without most—or in this instance—any of the rest of them. “I may not return before it’s time for the troops to begin the next phase of movement. You have been familiarizing your units with your command. If you falter, you will each have two men with you from whom you may seek guidance. Please, do your best.”

  He received promise from each of them.

  “Guang Ci has been assigned to guard over the Empress,” he continued. “He will not leave her side. Taya will be assisting in further medicinal ministrations. Neither of them will be present here for some time. Er Chiong will be here frequently. My staff will see to your needs. Gai Ping and Shi Dian will be accompanying me, along with two soldiers who are candidates to become bodyguards.”

  “That hardly seems like enough protection going into hostile territory,” Tristus noted.

  “I hope to approach the matter in Du more peacefully than I have in the past,” Xu Liang informed him. “It is my hope that Xu Hong will meet me in that effort.”

  SHIRISAE LEARNED that she had misspoken when she attempted to make significant connection between Tiong Zhong and the route she had traveled with Xu Liang and the others to the Imperial City. The village was indeed connected to those lands, but the route was well distant from the first path taken. They would not be required to go as far as the Jung Ho Bridge, or even to cross the river at all. The village, she was told by Wan Yun, was located in a forest to the south of the Tunghui. The positive aspect was that it was nearer than she originally thought. The negative aspects were too many to list, and she had no intention of granting them more merit than they deserved. She had everything she needed to succeed in her assignment, including Xu Liang’s reluctant blessing.

  Even if she had a mind to be offended by his protection, she could not be. She knew full well that he would have been reluctant to allow any one of them to go, with the possible exception of Guang Ci. Even if there had been no other reason behind Xu Liang’s hesitation, she understood that there was no need to take reckless advantage of the fact that they had been met with less discouragement and resent than he had originally prepared them for.

  Ironically, Shirisae was of the determination that the journey was not for such a young and delicate girl as Pang Xizhi, but Song Bin Ce had attached the girl to her, like an ornament, while she was preparing to depart from the palaces. She could understand propriety, but it seemed a tad absurd in light of the fact that she had previously traveled and lived with a band of men—save for Taya—for months. She supposed it was possible that Xu Liang’s culture would count the company of at least one other girl, regardless of their role or the circumstances. Though Taya was held virtually as a child to the Fanese women of the court, so perhaps not.

  The first day of travel gave way to clouds and very quickly a cold rain that had Shirisae worried over illness. She consoled herself with the possibility that the curse had been set upon the city, and that those away from Jianfeng were not likely to be touched by it. Everyone who had been charged with accompanying her had been healthy and, barring injury, she was determined that they would remain so.

  By night, the rain had passed and the ground—though cold—had mostly dried. Two tents were erected; one for the men and dwarf, and one for Shirisae and her handmaiden. Pang Xizhi attended Shirisae as much as she felt the circumstances required or would allow, which amounted mostly to presenting food and brushing Shirisae’s hair. The evening otherwise was spent reading. Pang Xizhi sat with a book of poetry in her lap and Shirisae studied Xu Liang’s notebook.

  Reading his dreams would have been more disturbing, had she not been witness to him for as long as she had, and had she not witnessed his spiritual movements at the school. Life in Yvaria had exposed her to some aspects of Dryth that would have frightened many—the keirveshen being among the darker while the Phoenix was the most impressive. She was only recently discovering fears where the Phoenix was concerned, while Xu Liang discovered strength.

  He was as an emissary to and from the gods. Shirisae believed there was no portal through which he could not pass, of any plane. Observing him in contact with what some elves might have regarded as Isalka—or one of that particular god’s underworld agents—she observed him also without fear. That in itself was not a typical trait among humans. Even elves were familiar with dread, if they would not submit to fear. But Xu Liang’s caution seemed never to come attached to a primal, or even mortal fear, and it seemed never to be for himself.

  She did not know whether that was a trait acquired since resurrection, or if he had always behaved in such a manner. To observe Tristus’ worship, she would be inclined to assume that he had been exhibiting such qualities before ever coming to Vilciel, which may have only given substance to the possibility that the Phoenix had been with him his entire life. He fascinated her, more than she ever would have assumed at a glance. What a fool she’d been for only giving him a glance at first.

  Her fingers traced the brush strokes he’d made in Yvarian characters and while she read, she decided she was glad that he had not chosen Fanese. For one, she was not sufficient with the written aspect of the language, but for another, she felt better knowing that Pang Xizhi would not be able to read the nightmare text. She believed it would frighten any girl who had been raised purely on aesthetics.

  One of the pages contained an illustration of a tree that appeared mostly barren. Her fingertips moved along its unhealthy form and settled on the text beneath.

  “I will spread my curse. Far and wide, plague will take hold. Blighting the trees, tainting the waters, replacing wisdom with madness, so that men turn fire on one another, and iron as well. They will bring down fortresses of stone and all for naught; for the wind will carry disease…and they will die.”

  “The wind will carry disease…” she whispered to herself. There were many ways to interpret such words, one of them being war. But she knew that Xu Liang would have thought of that, and reminded herself that he had gone to Du diplomatically. She wondered if it were possible for a curse to taint the atmosphere in such a way that even words would become ill.

  “MY LORD, Governor X
u Hong will not receive you.”

  Gai Ping’s words were disheartening, but not unexpected.

  “Then we must wait,” Xu Liang replied, dismissing the elder for the time present. He carried himself to the desk in the house he had arranged to occupy in the city of He Jung and sat down to study. For two days, Xu Hong had refused him, and during that time he had rewritten the account of his dreams regarding the Spirit of Death, Lei Kui, and the mysterious female ghost. As well, he had obtained a rough map of the commune where Lei Kui had laid his curse. He’d made notes on the appearance of the lot that defied even the power of Aerkiren against enchantment, hoping to come to some epiphany that would align a clear understanding of the mystic art of necromancy in relation to the sorcery of the remote and less populated parts of Sheng Fan. The Phoenix seemed willing only to witness this dilemma. He had received no gifts of clarity from it and he was beginning to wonder whether or not he would for the duration of the time it intended to roost in its ‘settling’ state.

  Regardless of any of it, Xu Liang would not cater to Xu Hong’s obduracy for much longer. He had hoped to make a gesture by not imposing imperial command. Though he was accustomed to Du’s outbursts throughout his service to the Song, he would much rather have Xu Hong’s support come, for once, without tantrums and demands.

  As the day pressed on, he began to lose hope for a peaceful outcome. He began to resign himself to return to the Imperial City in failure and to commit his focus to the southern kingdoms, knowing not only that there would be no hope of reinforcement from Du or Ying, but that he would simultaneously have to plan a defense against them.

  It was within the fourth day of his stay at He Jung, shortly after he had given Gai Ping and the others orders to prepare for their departure, that Xu Liang received a visitor from his family.

  He greeted Xu Fang with a familial bow when Gai Ping showed him in.

  His youngest recognized brother grinned, illuminating the thick beard he had retained since shortly after becoming a man. “Father still will not see you, but he’s being counseled by Mother and Grandmother.”

  “I was not of the impression that Xu Hong received counseling from anyone without a struggle.”

  “It’s a struggle, but his alone without Brother Hongfu as an ally.”

  “Oh?”

  “An emissary from Tzu has arrived to occupy our eldest sibling,” Xu Fang explained. On the chance that Xu Liang might wonder about the third son of Xu Hong, the youngest of them said, “Brother Wan is frequently at Ti Lao since his marriage.”

  Xu Liang recalled the event of their brother’s wedding. He’d sent a letter and a gift. He had not been aware that Xu Wan had relocated onto the river, however. It seemed a reasonable placement for him.

  “And now you’ll have a wife,” Xu Fang said with a renewed smile. Cheerfulness was his wont, and it was a mystery as to where he’d acquired the trait.

  “Yes,” Xu Liang replied.

  “Tell me, Brother…is she beautiful?”

  Xu Liang said, “She is.”

  “Of course. A beautiful wife for my beautiful brother. I will be uncle to beautiful children.”

  Xu Liang only bowed his head. He had not allowed himself to think so far ahead, not with all that urgently required attention now. He understood that a child with Shirisae would also belong to Vilciel. And he could not envision currently what that would mean for them in Sheng Fan. He had scarcely developed ideas on what it would mean for Shirisae to be his wife. For now, he could only abide by what he knew, which was his culture.

  “What is her name?” Xu Fang asked next.

  Xu Liang provided her Fanese-given name. “Huang Rin-fei.”

  “She must have been adopted.”

  “Yes, she was,” Xu Liang answered, realizing as he spoke that his brother was taking the meaning, not literally, but in the sense that it was a popular manner in which to name adopted children. Xu Fang did not seem to realize that his future sister was from the outer realms, which meant that neither Xu Hong nor Xu Hongfu were discussing it in such terms. Xu Liang was left to wonder whether their father did not think it important, or if he planned to shock family members unpleasantly in rallying them against Xu Liang.

  “Well, let us entertain ourselves while we wait,” Xu Fang decided. “I’ve improved my chess strategies; I must warn you, Brother.”

  Xu Liang accepted his invitation and they proceeded out of doors, to a table beneath the awning. The stream which ran through much of He Jung flowed nearby, beneath a small and private bridge with a wide arc. On the other side was a modest pavilion. It was a tranquil environment, though not where he would have preferred to be, given all that lay ahead.

  GOVERNOR XU HONG finally opened his doors to his child when that child—the Imperial Tactician, not a mere boy who needed tempering—had been delayed for nearly a week. It was not Gai Ping’s place to criticize his superiors, but he found himself unimpressed with the governor of the Western Kingdom. He understood that he held some misplaced biases, since he had come to feel as if he had adopted some paternal responsibilities since being assigned to Lord Xu Liang. It may have been the instinct of any man with children—and grandchildren—to feel responsible over younger men, but there was no displacing that instinct once it had arisen. Gai Ping also understood that, by those standards, he had also become responsible over a full unit of his fellow bodyguards as well as the allies his master had acquired in the outer realms. All but Tarfan, who shared his duty as a senior willingly. It seemed fitting that the dwarf had gone with Lady Shirisae while Gai Ping had remained with Lord Xu Liang. It seemed that young people on the verge of marrying required the most watching over. In the case of his master, it would be to ensure that his path was not needlessly obstructed, now that he had finally set himself upon it.

  Obstruction tended to be Lord Xu Hong’s preference. In spite of the governor’s most deliberate efforts in that, Lord Xu Liang showed patience. He explained about the plague that had developed in the Imperial City, but rather than let the problem seem rooted there, Gai Ping noticed that Xu Liang mentioned Ji, rather than any specific part of it.

  “The effects are mild, thus far,” Xu Liang said, framed by the terrace entryway. “But could become worse.”

  Xu Hong stood nearby, his current attire showing brightly green against the darker woods that provided the framework and support for his primary palace’s assembly hall. The stone between panels was a paler variety belonging to the region, but tended to be covered by banners. Standing braziers were aligned with the columns, creating a warm glow within, which contrasted with the cooler light from outside, where skies were overcast with clouds that looked as if they might carry snow instead of rain. Large amounts of such weather wasn’t common in Du, but freezing rain did occur even into spring.

  “So, you think to stop my assault with talk of disease,” Xu Hong mumbled with a look that hovered between smug and confused.

  “We cannot allow the spread of an uncertain illness,” Xu Liang countered. “War endangers many, but plague endangers all.”

  The governor grunted in a way that could be considered thoughtful. “And by the time the threat has passed, you believe that my ire will have passed as well.”

  “I see no need for your ire,” Xu Liang told him, bowing afterward, which halted a response in anger from Xu Hong. “I have finally come to realize that, for years, we have been struggling against each other over something which neither of us could have controlled. In spite of your frustration, you dedicated yourself to becoming my patron, and you are correct in believing that I have not dedicated myself to becoming your son.”

  Gai Ping felt his brow lift while his master apologized to Xu Hong. It was an unexpected gesture. It reminded him that he should not have been listening so intently to the conversation which circumstances required him and his fellows to be present during. He glanced toward Shi Dian to see the man’s response. He saw that he appeared confused in a similar manner to Gai Ping.

  Gai
Ping decided he would reprimand him later. Lightly.

  Governor Xu Hong appeared stricken to silence. That silence eventually blossomed into anger, though a less aggressive form of it than what Xu Hong typically demonstrated. He dismissed his child, though it was the governor who was the first to leave the room.

  A Tiger’s Tail

  XU LIANG KNEW that he had taken a risk by catching Xu Hong off guard emotionally. It was not his goal to offer any manipulation in that regard, but to hopefully clear some of the haze they had collected over the years with delaying what was overdue. He had been a poor son. From a young age, he had romanticized Xiang Wu and a relationship he might have had with him, believing that his mother had been wronged and he along with her. Perhaps, it would have been in Xu Hong’s best interest to have not told Xu Liang of their family’s secret, but he had, for whatever his reasons were. Xu Liang believed the sole purpose to have been to gloat over the child that embarrassed him by existing, but who he could yet acquire prestige from by supporting. Xu Liang had assumed that the success his father activated in him through that support was meant to be an assault on Xiang Wu, who could neither do nor say anything. He had also acquired heightened sensitivity to his mother’s plight, though it had never occurred to him that her plight was also less romantic. Xiang Wu might only have been an error in judgment. Perhaps his younger self had never come to such a simple conclusion because he had no desire to consider himself also an error.

  On reflection, it would seem that he had made a habit of repressing what he could not control. He would have liked to believe that it was only where emotional matters were concerned, but for the fact that he had also attempted to repress the Phoenix when they first encountered one another.

  He would address these rifts in his being. He would do so now, before he helped to unravel the very thing he hoped to help restore.

  While he gave his father time to recover from the apology, Xu Liang requested that Xu Fang bring him to see their mother.