I was too tired to hold the twilight for long, even in this place. I warned the princess, and she donned her hat. The dragon murmured in disappointment as I released the twilight. Everyone blinked as the golden light of the setting sun returned in a rush and the images of the dragon’s reflection vanished.
“I see.” Abbot Hong bowed to me. “A doubting man might claim that this is merely an illusion worked by barbarian magic. I am not a doubting man. If the gods allowed you to work falsehood in this place, I have spent my life in vain.”
All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but I bowed in return. “Thank you, Revered Brother.”
The abbot turned to Master Lo. “I will aid you in any way I can.”
SEVENTY-THREE
I passed the night sleeping on a mat in a humble cell, waking to the sound of chanting. It would not be an unpleasant way to live, spending one’s life in prayer and contemplation, surrounded by such beauty. I thought about the three Camaeline snowdrop bulbs nestled in a jar at the bottom of my satchel, and wondered if they would thrive here in the mountains. It seemed a fitting place for them.
No, the dragon said. It is not high enough, not cold enough. You will plant them in the snows of White Jade Mountain, and I will watch over them always, remembering you.
There was a poignant note in his tone that made my heart ache. “I pray you’re right, treasured friend.”
So do I. His tone brightened. Today is a good day for hope!
I smiled. “So it is.”
Indeed, it felt like it. There wasn’t much the abbot could do to aid us, but what aid he could give, he gave unstintingly. Our meager stores had been replenished, and we were armed with knowledge of several companies of Lord Jiang’s men laying in wait for us. After the princess had revealed herself in the marketplace, that knowledge was more valuable than gold. We had the abbot’s promise not to reveal our passage. The sun was shining and I was well rested.
It was a good day for hope.
After we broke our fast, the abbot himself and a score of his monks escorted us down the gorge. At every step of the way, I marveled at the continuous carvings. On one plateau, there was an effigy of Sakyamuni reclining that was so immense, it dwarfed all the others.
Bao laughed at my enthusiasm. “Maybe you’ll decide to follow the Path of Dharma after all, huh?”
“Oh, I haven’t abandoned the notion of the Path of Desire,” I assured him.
“Good to know.” He caressed the back of my neck. “I’m looking forward to our changing guises, so I no longer have to pretend to be a celibate monk. It is difficult thinking of you as—” He froze.
“What?”
“There.” Bao pointed. Ahead of us, a swaying bridge spanned the gorge. On the far side, the descending path continued around a curve. “Men’s shadows, moving.” His voice sharpened. “Stop! Everyone stop!”
We halted.
It didn’t take long for them to reveal themselves. Ten warriors and one anxious-looking young monk came around the curve. One of the warriors carried Lord Jiang’s standard, the white dragon coiling on a background of blue.
The rest carried bows, arrows nocked and aimed.
“No!” Abbot Hong cried out in anguish, spreading his hands as though to ward off an attack. “Oh, my son, what have you done? No, no, no! This is all a misunderstanding. You must not do this thing.”
“Tell that to young lord Jiang Jian, torn apart on his wedding night,” one of Jiang’s men said grimly. He gestured with the tip of his arrow. “Move aside, Revered Brother. We do not want to spill blood in this place, especially yours.”
“I will not,” the abbot said with calm dignity. As one, his acolytes spread out before us, forming a wall of robed, shaven figures.
“What is it?” the princess asked in a low voice. “Who, and how many? What arms?”
“Jiang’s men.” I felt sick. “One of the monks betrayed us. He must… he must have left before we showed the dragon to the abbot.”
“Ten men,” Bao added grimly, hands flexing on his staff. “Swords and bows. They were lying in ambush. They have arrows trained on us, my lady.”
“Are we trapped?”
I glanced up the path behind us. Our only avenue of retreat would leave us utterly exposed. “Aye.”
The dragon keened in alarm, panic and fury beginning to rise.
“Move! ” the leader of Jiang’s men shouted, gesturing violently. “I mean business, Brother! I do not want to shed your blood, but I will. Stand aside and give us the demon-princess!”
The abbot didn’t budge. “Please, listen. Through no fault of your own, you have been deceived. You have—”
Without a word, the leader loosed his bow with a sharp twang. The monk standing to the right of Abbot Hong clutched his side and crumpled, a bloodstained arrowhead protruding from his robes. None of the others so much as flinched. On the far side of the gorge, the young monk who had betrayed us covered his face with his hands, his fingers trembling. The leader nocked another arrow.
“Enough!” Snow Tiger’s voice echoed off the mountainside, high and fierce. She pushed effortlessly past the line of monks. “I killed Jiang Jian. It is me that you want, is it not?” She gestured behind her. “All of them, they are innocent. This is a sacred place. If I come willingly, will you promise to spill no further blood here?”
The leader hesitated. “I will.”
“He lies,” Bao muttered.
I thought so, too. “My lady, please!” I whispered urgently. “Do not listen, do not trust him—”
“Hush.” She turned back to me, put her hand over my lips. “The time for caution is past. This may be hardest of all on you, my necessary inconvenience. I have no choice but to unleash the dragon. You will have to reach him, call him back from the abyss of madness. Can you do that for us?”
My eyes stung. “I will try.”
“Good.” She turned to Abbot Hong and bowed, hand over fist. “Revered Brother, I beg your forgiveness for what I am about to do here.”
He bowed in reply. “You did not bring this on yourself in this lifetime, Noble Princess. I forgive you.”
With obvious reluctance, the abbot and the monks stood aside to make way for her. Master Lo Feng, his face unwontedly pale, bent to attend to the injured monk.
Beside me, Bao quivered with fury. I could sense the other stick-fighters doing the same.
At the near end of the bridge, Snow Tiger untied the sash that bound her robes and freed her sheathed sword. She held it up for display, then stooped and laid it gently on the ground. Lord Jiang’s leader grunted and beckoned with his arrow tip.
Hatted and veiled, she stepped onto the bridge.
It swayed under her slight weight. Her hands reached out to grasp the thick rope cables. Step by step, her head bowed, the princess traversed the gorge.
I held my breath.
Ah, gods! She didn’t look dangerous—she didn’t look dangerous at all. Despite knowing who she was and what she had done, the leader of Lord Jiang’s men smiled with relief and lowered his bow, sure of his victory. His men followed suit, chuckling a little. Showing them her empty hands, the princess raised her veil and gazed into the leader’s eyes.
And the dragon went mad.
It couldn’t help it—couldn’t help it. It owed nothing to logic. It was a celestial being that beheld its reflection; that was its nature. Without its reflection, the dragon was undone and severed from itself. It was already in a state of near-panic. Seeing its absence reflected in the man’s pupils, fear and madness came upon it. It roared like a storm in my mind, its unleashed fury pouring through the princess, filling her with its preternatural strength. Snow Tiger seized the arrow from the bow that Lord Jiang’s leader held, plunging it into his throat in one deft jab. Arterial blood sprayed the beautiful carvings as she yanked it free, whirling on her next victim, casting her veiled hat aside.
“Go!” Bao chanted, suiting actions to words and launching himself toward the bridge. “Go, go
, go!”
Jiang’s men were plunged into chaos, forced to fight at close quarters. Two of them had the presence of mind to peel away, taking aim at the oncoming stick-fighters. Bao planted his staff and vaulted; the others zigged and zagged behind him, trying to make themselves difficult targets. I snatched an arrow from my quiver, willing my hands not to tremble. The yew-wood bow my uncle Mabon had made for me sang, and one of the archers went down, the haft of my arrow protruding from the socket of his left eye.
I swallowed against a violent surge of nausea and nocked another arrow, but it was too late. The battle was too confused, too chaotic.
And there at the center, a slender figure in green, only this time, her robes were streaked with blood. She had an arrow in each hand now, spinning and striking, wielding them as gracefully as a dancer, dealing out death with every blow.
It was intense and brutal, and quickly over—at least for Lord Jiang’s men.
Not for the dragon.
Kang was down, injured. Tortoise knelt beside him. Bao and Dai stood protectively before them, staves still in a defensive pose. Behind them all, the young monk cowered against the cliff wall.
Mindless with the full force of the dragon’s fury, the princess turned on them.
“Oh gods,” I whispered, and began to run.
“Moirin, no!” Bao shouted, doing his best to hold her at bay. But she was right, I had to try. No one else could reach the dragon. And I couldn’t summon the twilight, not with so many eyes on me.
I reached them just as she seized the end of Bao’s staff and shoved, sending him hurtling backward. His head struck the carved rock with a sickening thud, and she began to turn toward Ten Tigers Dai.
I flung myself between them.
Her eyes met mine in the blood-streaked mask of her face. They were stretched wide and glittering, filled with an inhuman fury, and I no longer had the slightest question in my mind about why everyone had believed a demon possessed her.
In an act of sheer faith, I squeezed my eyes shut and reached out to the maelstrom of rage within her. “You promised!” I cried, willing him to hear. Blindly, I reached out with one hand, covering her eyes. “You promised you would never harm me!”
I could feel her quivering beneath my touch, quivering like an over-tight bowstring ready to snap.
But it didn’t.
“I am here,” I said softly—to her, to the dragon. “Peace. Be gentle.” Bit by bit, the storm of the dragon’s fury lessened. I sensed it recognize me, sensed it know itself once more. I felt that terrible, terrible tension drain from Snow Tiger’s body in a profound shudder as the dragon released her.
“Thank you.” Her voice was faint.
Yes. Thank you.
I nodded, daring to open my eyes. All around us, there was carnage. Beneath my hand, her blood-streaked face was only a girl’s, grave and lovely. Filled with fear, I swallowed against another surge of nausea. “You’re welcome. Now let us find you a blindfold, my lady. Let us see how badly Kang is injured and if Bao’s head is as hard as I pray it is.”
She shuddered again, a different shudder. “I pray so, too.”
SEVENTY-FOUR
As it transpired, Bao’s head was very hard.
“I’m fine!” he said in an aggrieved tone when Master Lo ordered him confined to a day’s bed-rest. “I can travel.”
I poked his chest, hard. There were no words sufficient to express my profound relief at finding him alive. “You’re not fine. And no one is travelling today.”
He eyed me. “Stupid girl. Always flinging yourself into danger. You could have gotten yourself killed, you know. Moirin, are you crying?”
“Aye, a little. So?” I rubbed my stinging eyes, then leaned down to give Bao a long, lingering kiss, not caring if it defied custom or roused the dragon’s ire. “You were in more danger than I was, stupid boy,” I murmured against his lips. “And we may count ourselves very, very lucky that none of us were killed.”
Lying on his back, Bao lifted one hand to tug gently at my hair, winding it around his fingers. “I hate seeing you in danger,” he whispered in reply. “But you have a point. I am glad to be alive to argue with you.”
It was true. On the whole, we had been fortunate in unfortunate circumstances. No vital organs had been pierced in the monk shot by Lord Jiang’s archer, and Master Lo gauged that he would make a full recovery in time. Kang had sustained a deep sword-cut on his right thigh. It was severe enough that he would not be continuing onward, but Master Lo judged that so long as it did not take septic, Kang too, would recover. Bao had a nasty lump on the back of his skull, and an irascible attitude.
I was relieved and glad.
Glad for him, glad for me.
And glad, perhaps most of all, for the princess and the dragon. She had taken this risk deliberately. If she had hurt him badly, she would have a hard time forgiving herself.
In the aftermath of battle, she was quiet and withdrawn. Once I left Bao’s side, I managed to get her into the bathing hut. Moving stiffly and painfully, she didn’t protest when I helped her out of her blood-soaked robes.
“Are you injured?” There was so much blood on her, I couldn’t tell if any of it was hers. “You should have said something! My lady, please don’t punish yourself.”
“I’m not injured.” She sank into the tub. Sponge in hand, I eyed her doubtfully. “I hurt. Everywhere.” She leaned her head against the rim of the tub. Even her hair was clotted with blood. “Mortal flesh was never meant to channel that much force.”
I felt like an idiot. I’d not considered the physical toll such inhuman exertion would exact on her. “Of course.” I dipped the sponge and squeezed it over her skin, beginning the long process of washing away the blood. “I’ll ask Master Lo for a tonic for the pain.”
The fact that she didn’t argue against it gave me an idea of just how badly it hurt.
I am sorry.
“Do not be.” The princess pressed her hands over her blindfolded face. There was blood under her nails, too. “You cannot control it. And if it were not for you, we would all be dead. I am grateful.”
It took a while, but I got her washed and dressed in clean robes, then went to find Master Lo. He and Abbot Hong were interviewing Brother Liu, the young monk who had betrayed us. I waited until they had finished, torn between anger at the monk’s impetuous deed and sympathy for his genuine remorse.
Master Lo looked as weary as I’d ever seen him when he emerged. “Moirin. How is her highness?”
“In pain.” I told him of her suffering.
He nodded. “I’ll prepare willow-bark tea for her.” He sighed, running a hand over his white-stubbled scalp. “It may be that there is a windfall in these unfortunate events. The young brother reports that Lord Jiang’s men tethered their mounts and made camp at the base of the mountain. Abbot Hong is sending acolytes to secure it. So.” He glanced down the path of the gorge, where robed monks were quietly gathering the dead and scrubbing blood from the beautiful carved walls. “We will have horses. And we will have new guises if we can stomach them.”
I swallowed. “You mean for us to dress in the dead men’s garb?”
His expression turned gentle. “Not you, nor her highness. But yes. Bao and I and the others will appear to be Lord Jiang’s men, escorting you as our prisoners. It will allow us to travel far more swiftly and freely.”
“I see.” I was glad I wouldn’t have to wear the clothing of a man I’d seen violently slain.
Master Lo put one hand on my shoulder. “Despite Bao’s chiding, what you did today was very brave, Moirin. It is clear that the dragon’s regard for you is not based on your gifts alone. You have a valiant heart.”
“Oh…” I flushed at his praise. “Thank you, Master.”
He gave me a weary smile. “I wanted you to know that it did not go unnoticed. I am fortunate to have such a pupil, and the princess to have such a…” He paused, at a loss for the proper term.
“She calls me her
necessary inconvenience,” I offered.
“Does she?” His smile deepened briefly, less weary, more genuine. “Well, her Noble Highness is fortunate to have you.”
In the middle of the night, when Snow Tiger’s restlessness woke me, I thought of his words. I lay on my narrow mat listening to her toss and turn, then rise to sit with her head bowed against her knees, shivering violently.
I pitched my voice softly into the darkness. “Would you like more willow-bark tea, my lady?”
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her head lifted, turning in my direction. “Go to sleep.”
Instead, I rose and did what I had wanted to do many times when fear troubled her in the night. I went to her, knelt behind her, and put my arms around her. The princess stiffened, but only for an instant, and she didn’t pull away. Slowly, slowly, her tense figure relaxed into my embrace. Remembering the night Jehanne had come to me for comfort after her last assignation with Raphael, I held her and breathed the Breath of Ocean’s Rolling Waves, deep and rhythmic and soothing, until her breathing slowed to match mine unwittingly.
“It’s the blood,” she murmured at length. “All that blood.”
I had seen the memory of her wedding night. “I know.”
After a time, I shifted to a more comfortable position. Snow Tiger lay curled against me, my arm over her slender waist, the fingers of one hand interlaced with mine. With one arm flung over her, I felt her exhausted, aching body loosen gradually into sleep.
Comforted by the contact, I slept, too.
In the morning, I woke before her. I extricated myself gently, knowing that daylight hours were different from night hours. Despite the blindfold, the princess looked sweet and peaceful in sleep, her features almost as delicate as a child’s. I thought about cleaning the blood from beneath her fingernails in the bath yesterday and shook my head, wondering at how very, very far from home I’d come, and how very strange the journey.
To be sure, no D’Angeline had ever served as a royal companion in such a violent, bloody manner.
Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss Page 56
