Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss

by Jacqueline Carey

  Beneath her blindfold, the princess’ face softened. “And I him.”

  The soldiers of the Imperial army were trained and disciplined. True to their orders, they kept quiet as we entered the camp. No one cheered, no one bowed or knelt. But they stared at her in the firelight as we rode past, and even in the silence, one could feel their reaction. A ripple ran through their ranks, as though the pelt of some unimaginably vast animal had shuddered. The soldiers stared at the princess, they stared at all of us. At Master Lo, at Bao and Tortoise and Ten Tigers Dai, their staves strapped across their backs, faces stern. At me, the foreign witch.

  And I understood that whatever else happened, we had just ridden into legend.

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  The Emperor’s tent was in the center of the camp, a vast pavilion of yellow silk. Flanked by guards, he stood before it, cutting a splendid and imposing figure in gilded armor. There was a terrible hunger in his gaze as he watched his daughter approach, her hands sure on the reins despite the blindfold.

  At ten paces away, Snow Tiger gestured for us to wait. My throat grew tight as she dismounted and approached on foot, then knelt gracefully before her father and pressed her brow to the earth. “Noble Father and Most Celestial Majesty,” she whispered. “I humbly beg you to forgive your most disobedient daughter.”

  “Is it…” Emperor Zhu’s voice trembled. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, Father.” She lifted her head. “I am here.”

  With shaking hands, he helped her to her feet, gazing at her face. “Oh, my child.” He touched the sword cut on her cheek with infinite tenderness. “You are forgiven. A thousand, thousand times over, you are forgiven.”

  I swallowed and blinked away tears.

  The Emperor glanced over at us. “And you, my old friend,” he said to Master Lo Feng, his voice rough with emotion. “You are forgiven, too. You and your stick-wielding ruffians and your jade-eyed witch. For bringing my daughter safely here, you are forgiven.”

  Master Lo bowed deeply. “For that, I am profoundly grateful, Celestial Majesty, as are we all. We did not undertake such disobedience lightly. But I fear this is no ending, only a new beginning.”

  “Yes.” Emperor Zhu’s hand tightened on his daughter’s slender shoulder. He frowned at it, only just now realizing that it was the first time since her wedding night that he had dared to touch her—or that she had allowed herself to be touched by him. “White Jade Mountain will not be easily gained. Jiang’s men are guarding the passes.”

  “Then we have a strategy to plan,” Snow Tiger said quietly. “Do we not?”

  “Yes.” The Emperor gave a brusque nod, removing his hand from her shoulder. “Yes, we do.”

  Well into the small hours of the night, we laid our plans, poring over maps in the Emperor’s luxurious silk pavilion. There were no good options, but there was one bad one.

  General Tsieh traced the route for us with a fingertip. “If you circle to the south, the approach to White Jade Mountain is guarded by the Stone Forest,” he said. “It is a maze of limestone. Although they will have posted sentries, there is no way Jiang Quan’s men can guard it effectively.” He gave me a wary glance, months upon his ship having rendered me no less strange to him. “If the foreign witch possesses the gift of concealment you claim, it is your best chance for slipping through unseen.”

  “Her name is Moirin,” the princess remarked. “Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn. And she is descended from royalty.”

  He inclined his head. “Lady Moirin, then. My apologies.”

  I studied the map, eyes bleary for lack of sleep. “I can only do it for a while. Can we get there unseen?”

  “No.” His voice was heavy. “I fear not.”

  Details, details. For long hours, they debated details. What route to take, how many men to accompany us. How the Imperial army might give cover to our movements. I was tired enough that my head swam. At some point, Bao positioned himself behind me, angling his shoulder so that I might lean against him, letting myself relax against the strength of his corded muscles and breathing in the familiar hot metal scent of his skin.

  The dragon grumbled.

  “Be quiet,” I said, sleepy and irritable. “Am I not deserving of comfort?”

  Yes. His voice was small. I am sorry.

  Everyone stared.

  “The dragon speaks to Moirin,” Snow Tiger said. “Be very, very grateful that he listens, too.”

  They didn’t understand. How could they? I didn’t blame them. It was a strange and peculiar intimacy that bound us together, the princess and the dragon and I. But I was grateful to her for giving voice to it.

  In the end, it was decided that a small company had a better chance of gaining the Stone Forest on the southern slopes of White Jade Mountain than a large one. In the morning, the Imperial army would stretch its southern flank to ward our progress, and we would set out behind their ranks to circle the mountain, our escape route guarded by an elite squadron of Imperial archers.

  I roused myself. “Would it not be better to travel at night?”

  “The terrain is too harsh to travel without the benefit of torches or lanterns, and there are sentries watching our every move,” General Tsieh said soberly. “I fear this is a risk we must take at the outset.”

  “You can see in the dark when you call your magic, can you not?” Snow Tiger asked me. I nodded. She cocked her head. “Perhaps it is best if the two of us go alone under the cover of darkness.”

  “I do not think that is wise,” Master Lo Feng said in a gentle tone. “Moirin’s strength is not boundless, nor is her control over her magic perfect. One slip, and you would be exposed and vulnerable in open terrain.”

  I held my tongue, knowing he was right. My diadh-anam flickered in agreement, warning me of my own mortal limitations.

  “But in the darkness—” the princess began.

  “No.” The Emperor raised one hand, silencing her. His voice was adamant. “I will not allow it. There is only so much trust I am willing to place in the magic of one weary foreign sorceress. Noble Daughter, you will go by day with your worthy companions and a squadron of Imperial archers to defend your passage, or you will not go at all.”

  She bowed her head in acquiescence. “As you bid.”

  The matter settled, General Tsieh began rolling up his maps. I stifled a yawn, longing for sleep.

  “Venerable Master Lo Feng.” The princess hesitated. “You have served the Celestial Empire with dignity and honor in a difficult time. Now we have come to a task that requires a warrior’s skill, not that of a sage and physician. War is upon us. I would ask you to remain here, where you might do the greatest good.”

  “I would be grateful for your aid, old friend,” the Emperor added softly. “Truly.”

  Master Lo bowed his head. White stubble on his scalp glinted in the lamplight. There were deep creases in his cheeks that I didn’t remember seeing before. “Then I shall abide by your wishes, Celestial Majesty, and pray that my pupils do me honor in my stead.”

  “We will, Master Lo,” Bao assured him, nudging me with his elbow. “We will make you proud, I promise.” Tortoise and Dai murmured agreement, echoing Bao, nodding their heads fervently.

  I straightened my back. “Aye, Master! I promise, too. We will make you proud.”

  His dark eyes shone with tears. “Ah, children! You already have.”

  SEVENTY-NINE

  In the light of day, our task seemed even more daunting.

  We were given the swiftest horses to ride and a squadron of five hundred elite archers to protect us, men trained to shoot from the saddle at a full gallop. Speed would be essential. Once we were exposed, Lord Jiang’s men would try to cut us off. I would summon the twilight to conceal Snow Tiger and myself as long as possible, but I couldn’t hide five hundred men, and we needed their protection. As soon as we began to move, Jiang’s men would know somewhat was afoot. All we could do was try to outflank them.

  Al
l throughout the camp, soldiers donned their gear, checked their quivers, and honed their swords. We waited, nerves strung taut. Soldiers assembled in tidy ranks beneath their banners, awaiting orders. On the far side of the meadow that separated us from the enemy, riders dashed back and forth.

  They suspected war was upon them.

  Struggling to keep my teeth from chattering with anxiety, I forced myself to breathe through the Five Cycles. It helped, a little. I watched the princess bid her father farewell. I couldn’t see her face, but the look on his made my heart break.

  “Is it customary for the Emperor himself to ride into battle?” I asked Bao, seeking to distract myself.

  “No,” he said somberly. “Usually it is a general who leads. But Emperor Zhu has always been a warrior. And I think he looks to prove beyond a doubt that he has not lost the Mandate of Heaven.”

  And then, all too soon, it was time.

  The Son of Heaven in his gilded armor mounted a snow-white charger, looking more splendid than ever. He raised one hand and gave an order. His banner dipped and swayed, conveying it. Other banners took up the order, passing it on. The Imperial army began to move, thinning and spreading its ranks toward the south.

  Snow Tiger rode back to us, her face pale beneath the blindfold.

  “Now, my lady?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Please.”

  The men had been given their orders. They averted their eyes as I summoned the twilight and wrapped the two of us in it. In the velvety dusk, the scene was surreal. Snow Tiger lowered her blindfold, eyes meeting mine. The dragon’s reflection coiled uneasily in her dark pupils.

  “Stay with me, treasured friend,” I murmured.

  Yes. I will try.

  There were soft gasps at our disappearance. Bao swung his head in my general direction. “Moirin?”

  “I am here,” I said to him. “We are both here.”

  He muttered under his breath, then gave the order to move out. Accompanied by the five hundred archers who would do their best to guard our avenue of escape, we rode slowly behind the Imperial lines. The ranks were too densely packed to see aught of the enemies’ movements, but word trickled through the ranks. Lord Jiang’s outnumbered army was not advancing. Instead, they were repositioning their bronze weapons in response to the Imperial army’s shift.

  Whether that was good or bad, I didn’t know.

  We reached the outskirts of the army’s massed ranks, now spread dangerously thin. What came next would be a desperate sprint across a battlefield toward the river two li to the south. If we reached it, our archers would make a stand there.

  “Moirin?” Bao asked. “Are we ready?”

  I glanced at the princess. She gave a terse nod, then remembered he could hear her if she willed it. “Yes. Give the order, please.”

  Bao drew a deep breath and loosed it in a shout. “Ride! Ride!”

  We clapped heels to our mounts’ flanks and burst out of concealment, racing across the open meadow.

  The Divine Thunder boomed in answer, its deep cough echoing off the peaks of White Jade Mountain.

  The Imperial archers were meant to serve as a shield between us and the enemy; but no mortal flesh could stand against the missiles spat out by the Divine Thunder. I saw a man borne down only a few yards away, his horse rendered an obscene carcass of torn flesh. I veered in horror, losing my grasp on the twilight. The gleaming dark carnage before me turned the vivid red of blood.

  Again and again, the Divine Thunder boomed.

  Everywhere, screaming.

  And the dragon was loose.

  I felt its madness and fury rise, spiraling to heights that dwarfed aught that had gone before, so terrible it disoriented me. As though the gifts of my ancestors had been restored, I saw a glimpse of a dreadful future unspooling, a future written in metal and smoke and blood, a future in which all the sacred places of the earth had been violated, and there were no longer dragons or bear-witches in the world.

  NO!

  The dragon’s roar made my head spin. I shook it, trying to clear it.

  The princess had turned her mount, and ah, gods! She was riding toward the battle, toward the terrible weapons, ready to destroy them all, a naked sword in her hand and a captive dragon’s blind fury in her eyes.

  “You can’t!” I heeled my mount and checked her progress. “My lady, you can’t! There are too many! And I cannot hold the twilight! Close your eyes! ”

  She hesitated.

  Ahead of me, I saw Bao turn back; but Tortoise was closer. He jounced in the saddle as he hurried to aid me, his homely face terrified but determined. A hero after all, no matter how unlikely. And then the Divine Thunder coughed, a hot, acrid wind passed overhead, and Tortoise was no longer there. His remains smoldered in a crater.

  “Please, my lady,” I said in a choked voice. “Please, please, please listen to me and close your eyes. My friend, please let her hear me!”

  Something human surfaced in her gaze. “I cannot ride blind in this chaos.”

  I held out one arm. “Then I will be your eyes. Ride behind me.”

  Screwing her eyes shut tight, Snow Tiger grasped my arm. In a single, deft move, she sheathed her blade and swung herself out of the saddle, settling herself astride behind me. I sensed a measure of the dragon’s fury abate as she raised her blindfold.

  “Flee!” I flung the command like an arrow into my mount’s thoughts and gave him his head.

  How long did it take us to outrun the range of the Divine Thunder? Two minutes? Three? All I know is that it felt like an eternity. There was a taste like copper in my mouth. My heart was hammering in my chest and my breath came in wheezing gasps. All around us, deadly projectiles fell from the sky. There was nothing that could stand against them, no weapons that could fight them. Smoke drifted across the sky. The ground shook and trembled. Men and horses died. Craters dotted the earth, torn limbs were scattered across it, blood soaked it.

  It was more horrifying than anything I could have imagined.

  Anything.

  At last there was a pause in the booming assault. Daring to peer over my shoulder past the princess, I caught a frenetic glimpse between racing archers. Jiang’s army was mustering a squadron to give chase. They were repositioning the fearsome bronze weapons to hold the Imperial army at bay.

  “Moirin!” Bao shouted at me, his dark eyes glittering with rage and grief. “We have to gain the river! Don’t slow down!”

  I nodded my understanding, and didn’t look back again. I rode and rode, Snow Tiger’s arms wrapped tight around my waist.

  Not until we reached the river did I pause. It was a wide, swift river and tricky to ford. Our horses picked their way with care, the water rising belly-deep at times. I stroked my chestnut’s lathered neck, whispering praise. The archers remained on the near side, gathering to make their stand. I wondered how many, if any, would survive. It was a sickening feeling.

  And on the battlefield, the Divine Thunder was crashing again.

  “Noble Highness!” Dai was splashing across the river, leading the princess’ mount behind his own. Although his face was rigid with horror, he had kept his wits about him. “Here!”

  I drew rein until he came alongside us.

  “Dai.” There was relief in Snow Tiger’s voice. She slipped deftly from the back of my saddle into hers. “Thank you. Is everyone… no, of course not. I saw men die.” She bowed her head. “How many? Who?”

  “Scores of your father’s men,” I murmured. “And Tortoise.”

  “Ah, no!”

  “Yes,” Bao said grimly. “And if we do not make haste, their sacrifices will be in vain.”

  The princess turned her head in the direction of the battlefield, and although she could not see now, she had seen enough in the twilight to guess at the carnage. The Imperial army would retreat if it could, but not until we were safely away—or confirmed dead. The backs of the Imperial archers formed a living shield between us and Jiang’s men. Her hands tightened on t
he reins. “Then we will ride as though every demon in hell were chasing us,” she said in a hard, clear voice. “And put an end to this madness.”

  Yes, the dragon agreed fiercely. Yes! ”

  I thought of the future I had seen unwinding on the battlefield. Even if we succeeded, I was not sure it could be averted. I understood better the terrible choices my ancestors among the Maghuin Dhonn had made in their efforts to alter the future. If it were within my means to do the same, I would be tempted to try.

  But I had no choices here, only a very slender thread of hope.

  The princess gave the order.

  We rode.

  EIGHTY

  It was like a familiar nightmare.

  Riding and riding in an endless, desperate flight. A valiant horse laboring beneath me. Men left behind to guard our passage, men sure to die. Eventually, the sound of pursuit in the distance.

  But these were good horses, excellent horses, the best and swiftest in the Imperial army, and though the chestnut I rode was no more gallant than my Blossom, he was fit and hardy, in the peak of condition. All of them were. They had not shied at the Divine Thunder. Now they carried us willingly at a breakneck pace over the harsh terrain.

  Bit by bit, we extended our lead.

  When we could no longer see or hear our pursuers, Bao consulted with the princess and called for a slower pace. Our mounts plodded steadily, heads low, breathing hard through blown nostrils.

  We could still hear the Divine Thunder booming in the distance. I tried unsuccessfully not to think about the toll it was taking.

  It is fire that impels it? the dragon asked. This killing man-made thunder?

  “Aye,” I said wearily.

  Then I will end it once I am free. His voice was still fierce. I will drown their evil weapons in rain. I will call down lightning to strike them dead. Every single one of them.