by Peter David
I blinked. “You mean Mitsu?”
“Yes,” said the Skang Kei Ho. “The very one.”
“How would she be proof of anything?”
“Bring her to us.”
I felt as if a fist were closing in my chest. “To you.”
She nodded. “Deliver her to us, and we will know that you are genuinely interested in joining the Forked Tong, and are deserving of the knowledge we can impart.”
Now the truth was, I was so besotted with Veruh Wang Ho that I would have brought her the beaten and bloodied corpse of just about anyone it was within my power to obtain, if I knew it would put a smile upon her carefully painted face. But Mitsu? The thought of putting her into the hands of these… these criminals…
“Have no fear,” Veruh assured me. “We will not harm her.”
“And how would I know that?”
“Because,” said Veruh, “she would be of no use to us dead. It is our intention to use her as a bargaining chip in dealing with her father.”
“That might well be a dead end,” I said. “There may not be much love lost between father and daughter. What if your intentions fail? If you insist on some sort of deal in exchange for Mitsu’s life, and her father tells you all to go to hell. To do your worst. He is not someone who is concerned about the value of human life. You might have as much luck threatening his favorite tea service as his daughter.”
“There is that possibility,” she acknowledged. “Should that transpire, though, that will be our problem, not yours. And if it does occur, I repeat: She will not be harmed in any way. We do have boundaries, and depths to which we would not stoop.”
“I see. So you would kill old men, but not young girls.”
“Yes. That is exactly right,” she said. “So… what is your answer?”
“If I refuse?”
She moved toward me once again, and the scent of her was so powerful that I leaned heavily upon my staff for support.
“If you are truly interested in the Forked Tong, you would have no reason to refuse, would you.”
“That is true,” I admitted. I hesitated, my mind racing, trying to come up with some other way. None presented itself. “Very well. I accept.”
“Excellent. The means by which you obtain her is up to you.”
“Damned generous of you,” I said sarcastically. “Especially considering I’m not the most popular individual with the Imperior just now. Perhaps… perhaps,” I mused aloud, “I can head straight back to the palace right now. It’ll be hard riding for several straight days, but—”
“That will do you very little good,” said the “sister” who had brought me here. “By this time, the little drug I put in the tea will have worn off. Even now, word is undoubtedly being sent to the palace by swiftest messenger. You’ll never be able to overtake it before the palace is alert and ready for your return.”
“Great. So the task is impossible.”
“Think of it more as an opportunity to prove your ingenuity,” said Veruh, and then added, “and your devotion.”
The way she said that almost made my heart puddle around my feet, and it was all I could do to refocus. “And if, and when, I manage to obtain her…?”
“Do you remember the bridge that leads into the fish market? Bring her to the top of that bridge and we will handle matters from there.”
“All right,” I said slowly. I stood there, uncertain as to what I should do next. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to pull Veruh to me, to lose myself in her. But these were hardly what I would call ideal circumstances for a first date.
She gestured in leisurely fashion and said, “You may go. The sister will see you on your way. Oh, and Apropos… it is fortunate you agreed to our terms.”
“Why?”
“Because if you had refused, you would not have left this shrine alive. And, having made a pledge to the Forked Tong, if you attempt to abandon it, you will not leave this country alive.”
The woman with whom I was madly, deeply, passionately in love had just threatened to kill me.
It sounded so right.
Chapter 7
The Taking of Mitsu 1 2 3
You will not leave this country alive…
The entire journey back to Taikyo, the words kept echoing in my mind. At the same time, the scent of Veruh Wang Ho lingered in my nostrils.
I kept trying to determine just exactly what had happened. Had I been deluding myself? Was she wearing some sort of perfume, perhaps, that was addling my mind? Or could it be that she had some deep hypnotic power? Perhaps it was something as simple as that she was a weaver. Why not? There was no reason to think that weavers were unique to my country. There was every chance that Veruh possessed some sort of mystic ability that was causing her to manipulate my perceptions.
On the other hand, it could be me rather than her. It could have been that my endeavors to explore new areas of my life, to push myself to new horizons, had prepared me for this moment. Mitsu’s comments about love at first sight, about connections made in earlier lives, was still fresh in my mind, and the power of suggestion could be a powerful thing indeed.
What it really came down to, though, was: I didn’t care. All I cared about was the passion that Veruh raised within me. The hows and whys of it were of no interest. All I knew was that, just as Mitsu had so deftly predicted was possible, I had encountered a woman whom I knew, on a gut level, was my soul mate. So besotted was I that all I could think was, should she stab me in the back in the dark, at least I’d be dying at her hand.
In retrospect, separated by the events of that time through the relative serenity of the years, I would liken it to the fervency felt by a recent religious convert when he has just discovered some god or savior or some such. One is embracing not only the being or the concept, but an entire way of life that will fulfill some deep-seated need one may have. The amount of enthusiasm with which the new obsession takes hold is directly related to the amount of need.
With all that I had been going through as of late, it was no wonder that I became utterly obsessed with Veruh Wang Ho. Although, honestly, even as I think back upon it, it would be hard to believe that any mere mortal would have been anything except totally enamored with that high-priced Ho.
For Veruh Wang Ho and the Forked Tong came with a very high price indeed.
Princess Mitsu had never been anything but considerate to me. All right, yes, we had a significant difference of opinion when it came to such matters as the sanctity of human life and flatly expecting people to execute themselves in order to accommodate one’s sense of honor. But other than that, our time together had been everything from relaxing to enlightening. So how was I supposed to take the first female that I had genuinely come to think of as a friend and turn her over to an organization composed of thieves, murderers, criminals, and oversexed shadow warriors who tended toward non sequiturs?
The answer was: Reluctantly.
But I was going to have to do it nevertheless.
Upon departing the shrine of Veruh Wang Ho, the Anaïs Ninja who had brought me there lent me her horse. The intelligence of the animal was beyond measure. Speaking in soft tones to it, she instructed it to take me “via the secret ways” back to Taikyo. Yes, you read that correctly: She spoke to it. The horse nodded, apparently in comprehension, and at that moment I would not have been surprised if the ebony equine had started chatting up a storm, not unlike Mordant.
Then she continued to talk to it, lowering her voice, whispering in the animal’s ear. Even with her voice so hushed, I immediately recognized that dementedly erotic tone. She was running her hands up and down the horse’s neck, and the poor creature was starting to look decidedly nervous.
“I think I’d better go,” I said quickly, seeking to rescue the animal before it found itself with its mistress hanging upside down under it doing only gods knew what. “Unlike you and your ‘sisters,’ I can’t blend with the shadows.”
Reluctantly, she stepped away from the horse,
and I mounted it quickly. “What do I do with the horse once I reach the city?”
“The horse will return to me at our arranged place of meeting.”
“Oh.” This was one hell of an impressive horse.
I urged the horse forward, but truthfully it needed little urging. I think it was as happy to get away from that overheated harridan as I was.
To this day I’ve no idea how that horse made it through the woods with the efficiency and awareness that it did. I told myself that the Anaïs Ninja had taken the animal through this cleverly concealed route so many times that the beast knew precisely where it was supposed to go and what it should do. Even so, its sense of direction and ability to handle itself was astounding. We were certainly off the beaten track. There was a narrow road that wended its way through the forest, created no doubt by the Forked Tong over a period of years. It was so deep in the woods, however, that no one would have known it was there to travel it. Nor was the road always easy to see. Particularly at night, I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
But the horse kept moving. It was certainly operating on its own, because I had no idea where we were and couldn’t have found my way back to Taikyo for any price. The horse knew the way. In this regard, it was smarter than I was. Hell, it was probably smarter than I in many regards.
Every so often, when both horse and rider were exhausted, I would rein up and we would rest, the horse grazing on grass and sometimes drinking from a convenient brook or stream. Then we would continue on our way. I never once heard the slightest sound of pursuit.
Eventually we made it to the outskirts of Taikyo. I still had my cloak, and fortune was with me in that the weather had turned inclement. There a steady drizzle was coming down, which meant that if I walked through the city with my hood up, it would attract no attention, since people would simply assume it was to keep my head dry. If the sun were out and the weather were balmy, I would have been even more noticeable than I already was.
The horse stopped with the city in sight, and I realized that my ride was done. I eased off the horse, patted it on the side of the head, and whispered, “I wish you were mine.” The horse bobbed its head, perhaps coincidentally, or perhaps it just simply agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. Then, with a whinny and swish of its tail, it was gone, back into the forest.
I made my way into the city, glad for its size. I had money on me. The Imperior had been generous in a stipend he’d provided me while I was in the palace, and it wasn’t as if I’d had anything to spend it on, so most of it was still with me. It meant that I would be able to get a room for the night, again without attracting attention.
Thanks to the weather, the streets were half as crowded as they’d been when I’d first arrived. Even so, they were still teeming with people, and losing myself in the throng was no difficulty.
I studied everyone I passed, always wondering if this person or that person was actually a member of the Forked Tong, watching me, spying upon me and ready at any time to relay word to Veruh as to what I was up to.
This exercise in uncertainty and fear was with me until I found myself a room at a small inn, situated right near—as luck and also design on my part would have it—the foot of the bridge that I was supposed to cross to summon Veruh Wang Ho and her Skang Kei associates.
Unfortunately, I saw something rather dire on my way to the inn.
I saw myself.
Specifically, pictures—drawings—of myself, adorning walls of assorted buildings. I was scowling in the drawing, and some of the details of the ears and nose were wrong. And the eyes were definitely not quite right. Apparently the artist had never been required to draw eyes such as mine, and so he produced something more in line with what he was familiar. As a result, I didn’t look exactly Chinpanese, but I didn’t look exactly like myself, either.
There was writing beneath the picture. I didn’t have to be able to read it to guess what it said: Reward. For my capture. I didn’t know whether it said “dead or alive,” but I wouldn’t have been surprised were that the case.
I felt ill as I registered at the inn, even as I kept my hood well over my face.
I was provided with a simple room with more of those paper sliding doors such as I’d seen at the palace. There was a rolled-up sleeping mat in the corner, and a small pot of hot water with tea nearby, freshly put out with the steam still rising. I undid my weapons and lined them up next to each other, determined to keep them no farther away than arm’s reach lest I require them quickly. I sipped the tea and ate sparsely of some rice that my hosts later provided. Other than that I kept to myself, lying upon my back and staring up at the ceiling.
And wondering what in the world I was going to do.
I couldn’t just wander about in Taikyo. My face made me problematic enough in terms of recognizability. But now it had been pasted all over town on a wanted poster. Which meant as soon as the weather became balmy, I’d have no excuse to wander around with my hood up, and I was in trouble. The four paper walls surrounding me might be my new permanent home.
I could just try and flee Taikyo. For that matter, flee Chinpan altogether. Running away. I could handle running away. Gods knew I had done it before, and was quite comfortable with the concept. It had the warmth of familiarity.
Three problems with that.
First, there was little doubt in my mind that somehow, somewhere, the Forked Tong or the Anaïs Ninjas or the Skang Kei family—in short, every deadly entity in Chinpan—was keeping an eye on my progress and was prepared to strike back with deadly force if I did not keep my part of the enforced bargain. Whatever else happened, it was perversely intriguing that I had maintained my knack for incensing deadly people.
Second, there was my fascination with Veruh. Even if, through some miracle, I managed to elude all pursuers and find my way out of Chinpan—where to, I’d no idea, but out—that would mean that I would be leaving behind the woman who had awakened something within me I’d no idea was there in the first place. Was it odd, perverse, inexplicable that I was so attracted to an entity who could easily represent my destruction? Look no further than a moth’s fascination with a flame to know the answer to that question.
And third… it would still leave dangling the murder of Ali. My great mission of vengeance, unfulfilled. But why? Why should that matter to me?
I lay there all the long night, staring up at the ceiling, and pondered it. I had always prided myself on knowing exactly why I did the things I did. Yes, granted, there had been some who claimed the contrary was true. That I in fact lived in a perpetual sense of denial, supposedly always doing “what was right,” whatever that might be, while simultaneously “fabricating” reasons that were self-centered and self-serving. Pure tripe, in my opinion. I knew myself, and knew what the world was getting when it was dealing with me, even if the world chose to live in self-denial.
Yet in this instance, I found myself flummoxed. And inevitably, my thoughts kept turning back to my time in Wuin.
I had done bad things there. A lot of bad things. I had told myself that I had done so because I was not myself, but was instead under the control of something else, something sinister. However, truth be told, much of what I did, I took a dark and sinister pleasure in. Nearly sadistic, in fact. And that had disturbed me greatly, for I knew myself to be many things, but never once had I believed I was someone who enjoyed the pain of others. Yes, I had caused others pain, to be sure. But it had always been a by-product. Or they’d deserved it, or done me harm in some way and I was getting back at them. Hurting the helpless simply to enjoy the sensation of inflicting suffering… that wasn’t me.
I have observed throughout my life that things rarely occur by themselves. That when one type of situation transpires, invariably and inevitably, something of the opposite sort occurs as well. For every action, some action of an antithetical type—but otherwise equal in every way—happens. This is so immutable that I would almost venture to say it’s universal. There are a couple of other
“laws” I’ve observed regarding how fate seems to move, but I’ll save those for some other time.
How that applied to my situation in Chinpan was obvious. If, in Wuin, I had done terrible things—and I had—then I was now being compelled by the laws and forces of nature to do equal but opposite things.
The thought that those black-clad bitches had killed Ali with impunity was gnawing at my gut. So much so that I knew I had to do something.
The problem was, fetching Mitsu into the hands of the Forked Tong was an evil deed in and of itself. Which, if my theory was correct, meant that while I was busy trying to even the scales on one side, I was going to wind up tipping them against me at the same time. But as much as I turned it over and over in my mind, I was forced to the inevitable conclusion that there was no other way. And considering I was someone who excelled in finding another way when all seemed hopeless, that was a frustrating admission to make.
The only conclusion to which I could finally come was that, if ‘twas to be done, then it would be best to do it quickly. With that in mind, I immediately turned my thoughts to pondering just how to go about getting Mitsu to the Forked Tong.
Truthfully, conceiving the mischief took me almost no time at all. Fairly impressive, I had to admit: My ability to cause difficulty for others remained undiminished even as trials were heaped upon my shoulders.
Having developed the plan, I then proceeded to get no further sleep that night. How was it that I was intending to atone, in any sense, for the evil I had done as the peacelord of Wuin, and yet the first step in that atonement was to put an innocent girl at risk?
I satisfied myself by saying repeatedly that she wasn’t really going to be at risk. That the Forked Tong, just as Veruh Wang Ho had stated, would find her of far greater use alive than dead. Furthermore, it could always be said that in some ways, she was living on borrowed time. Had I not interceded when I’d first seen her being confronted by those angry circus folk, she would very possibly have been beaten to death right then and there. In that sense, she owed me her life, and really, I should be able to do with it as I saw fit.
