by Peter David
“Yes. I know.”
“Come.”
Although it was one word, it was immediately understood that it was addressed only to me. I followed him, curious as to what was happening. The advisors stayed behind, looking at one another, but making no attempt to ask what was going on. Itso Esi must have been dying with fury. He knew, as did I, that I had engineered no brilliant defense. The Great Wall existed through his attempt to sabotage me. But he had to go along with the perception that I was responsible, lest he admit his sinister intentions.
We went through a door into a much smaller room. Then the Imperior turned to me. Although he still looked elderly, he also appeared regal and dignified and quite, quite sure of himself. If Veruh Wang Ho had been an old man, she’d probably have been a lot like him. Which could explain why I wanted to like the old bastard, despite everything that had happened.
“There are things we need to discuss,” he told me.
And we discussed them.
Chapter 2
Crouching Tigress
Something told me the Princess Mitsu was not happy to see me. Perhaps it was the way she hit me in the face that gave it away.
I had been given far more luxurious quarters than during my previous stay. Quarters that were commensurate with the status of someone who was the savior of all of Chinpan. I had unpacked the few belongings I had, but made sure to keep the demon sword with me, strapped securely to my belt. Granted, only I could unleash the demon within, for only I knew the words that released it. But I was certainly not going to let the best chance I had of getting out of this situation alive be stolen out from under me.
I was just getting settled in when Mitsu literally burst into the room. It was not that difficult; the door was made from paper. She simply smashed right through it. As entrances went, it was pretty impressive.
“Oh,” I said. “Hello.”
She was across the room in record time. She didn’t bother to walk; she did several handsprings, propelling herself forward, and it was a miracle that I was able to get out of the way in time. I did so by throwing myself to the floor to avoid her as she sailed over me.
She landed gracefully, bounced an inch or two to absorb the impact, and then whirled to face me. “How could you?” she snarled, and came right at me.
I was still holding my walking staff. I angled it in her direction as she barreled toward me, and the four-inch blade snapped out of the mouth of the dragon. Mitsu realized her mistake too late, caught up as she was in the force of her rush at me, and she twisted her body to try and prevent the impact. She failed, and her chest slammed against the end of my staff.
She gasped, anticipating the metal jamming into her. Then she froze there a moment, not quite understanding what had happened.
“You’re all right,” I told her. “I retracted the blade an instant before you hit it.”
Mitsu stepped back to see that I was telling the truth. The blade was gone, pulled back into its place of concealment. She rubbed her chest in irritation, scowling at me. “I should kill you for that,” she said.
“I could have killed with that,” I reminded Mitsu. “I don’t desire you dead.”
“I wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” She was still angry, but she made no further attempt to attack. Instead she stalked the interior of the room, never taking her angry glare from me. “After everything we’ve discussed, all the time we spent together… I thought I knew you, Apropos.”
“Nobody knows anybody,” I said. “We only know those aspects of others that they let us see. The true individual remains hidden from the world. And that’s as it should be. Otherwise we’d all probably want to kill each other.”
“That’s certainly true in this case.” Her fists were clenched and shook with suppressed rage. “You swore loyalty to the Forked Tong, Apropos! And the next thing I know, you’re accepting a position as my father’s chief advisor? Why? Why are you doing that, when you carry the demon sword?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She dropped down onto a pillow on the floor. “Veruh Wang Ho told me there was a great likelihood that you would return to the village where you found the sword. That if you didn’t know the magic words that released the demon, you’d learn them there so the sword can be used to end my father’s reign and perhaps force him to…”
“To what?”
“To do as the Forked Tong demands. His oppressive rule…”
“Mitsu,” I said in a very low voice lest someone overhear, “I’m still on the side of the Forked Tong.”
That stopped her cold. “What? What are you—”
“Veruh’s suspicion was correct: I didn’t know the magic words. But I’ve learned how the sword works. I know what to do to unleash the power within.”
Her eyes widened at that. “You… you know? You found out?” I nodded. “But… how did you…?”
“By accident. The same way, I suspect, that Ali, my teacher, found out.”
“What is it? What do you say to—?”
I raised a finger and simply shook my head. “No. No, for the time being, that remains my secret. However, you are here as a representative of the Forked Tong. So my question to you becomes: What do you wish to do now?”
“I…”
“Well? Come now.” I sounded annoyed with her. “We have this weapon at our disposal. I have managed to put your father off his guard. He has no idea where my loyalties lie.”
“Nor do I.”
She sounded suspicious. I shrugged. “What would you have me do to prove my loyalty? Would you have me execute your father? I could have done so earlier, you know. It would have been no great difficulty. But you could have done that. You live here in the palace. Certainly the opportunity presented itself, as I’ve pointed out. Instead what I’m told is that you’ve no immediate desire to do so. Why is that?”
Mitsu looked a bit confused, a swell of emotions playing across her face. “Why… is what?”
“You call your father a tyrant. A brute. To you he is the most evil creature that ever walked the planet.” I started to raise my voice.
“And yet I sit here now, telling you that I possess a weapon that could easily put an end to him. Why are you not interested in that?”
“Shhh!” she said with some alarm. “Keep your voice down! You never know—”
“No, I never do,” I said. “I never know what you want from me. I never know what’s truly going through your head. I never know what you or any of your shadow associates want. But I’m going to damn well find out.”
“Find out?” Her face was a question. “How?”
“Tonight I go to kill the Imperior. I’ve had it with the lot of you. No one seems to know what they want around here. There’s all this talk of honor and sacrifice and changes in power, and manipulation and secrets, so many secrets. Well, I’m flushing it all out into the open. It ends tonight.”
“It can’t!”
“Why?” I reached over, grabbed her by the wrist. “Tell me why. Why can’t it?”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“None can know!”
“Know what?”
And suddenly there was a flap of wings, and Mordant sailed into the room like a thrown javelin. He struck me in the chest with such force that he knocked me flat on my back. I looked up at him in surprise as he hovered over me and said, with more anger than I’d ever known him to display, “Leave her alone.”
“This is none of your business, Mordant.”
“Oddly, Apropos, I get to choose what is and isn’t my business.”
“Fine. You choose your business, then.” I stood and straightened my clothes, endeavoring to recapture some degree of dignity. “Mine is with the Imperior. Tonight.”
“You can’t!” she said with great urgency.
“I can. Why? Do you plan to stop me?” I tapped the demon sword with one hand. “I would not advise it. Matters could prove ugly.”
She sta
red at me for a long moment. It seemed as if she were trying to bore deep into the recesses of my mind with her dark eyes.
“You’re bluffing,” she said abruptly. She turned to Mordant.
“He’s bluffing.”
“No,” I assured her. “I am not.”
“You will not go and utilize a weapon as devastating as the demon sword against my father.”
“Mitsu,” I said, and it took me a moment to muster the strength to say what I was about to say. “You have no idea of the horrors I saw when I was out on the road. The innocents who suffered. You have no idea what those sights… did to me. Whatever you think you know of Apropos… whatever you think motivates me… it’s gone. What remains is a man who can only still the sobbing voices of your father’s victims by putting an end to your father himself. I hear them, you know,” and my voice cracked slightly. “The voices. The dead villagers… all of them, gone, dying brutal, horrible deaths. And your father,” and I pointed in the general direction of the palace where he resided, “your father has the nerve to tell me that he wants things to change. He wants them to be different. Then he takes me into another room, speaks to me privately. Tells me of his grand plans for Chinpan. And within minutes, he’s already sounding like his old self. Talks about ritual suicide in a nostalgic way. Nostalgic!
“Do you comprehend the irony of that? The man hasn’t even done away with the practice, and he’s already dwelling in sentimental fashion upon the ‘good old days’ that haven’t even left yet! He’s insane, Mitsu,” and I made small, circling motions at the side of my head. “You were right all along. You were always right. The man is too dangerous to live. You have my condolences that he is your father. Obviously, however, the fact that he is your father is proving too much of an obstacle to get past. That’s fine. I can understand that. I spent much of my youth dwelling upon how I would love to kill my father, if I only knew who he was. When I did discover it, did I kill him? No. I didn’t have the stomach for it. And if you don’t have the stomach for this, I completely understand.
“But this is not the time for lack of fortitude, Mitsu. This is something that has to be done. And if you are not prepared to do it, then I most certainly am. The only question is do you desire to be there when I do it or not?”
She wavered, looking uncertain. Mordant looked from one of us to the other. “Mitsu,” he said, “perhaps it’s—”
“Yes,” she said quickly, interrupting Mordant, who looked a bit surprised. “Yes… I will be there. If it is your desire to kill him on my behalf, then the least I can do is be there to watch. To bear witness to the end of the tyrant.”
That was what she was saying. But I was positive there was more going through her head than that. She was making some sort of alternate plans. I couldn’t know what they were, although I had a guess or two. It was pure speculation, however. I wouldn’t know for sure until the actual moment came.
“Very well,” I said. “Tonight, then.”
“How do you plan to sneak in?”
“Sneak in?” I laughed at that. “My dear princess… I am to be an invited guest.”
“Oh!” Mitsu then joined in the laughter, her slim shoulders shaking with amusement. “How very clever. You needn’t worry about gaining entrance, for you are already invited. But…what about his guards?”
“There will be none. He trusts me, you see.”
“And the sword? In private conference, he will not permit any weapons to be brought into his presence.”
“Oh, he will allow this one.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I smiled, “I said I would make a present of it to him. He has no idea of the sword’s true nature. He simply admires the craftsmanship of the hilt. But he will find out. Yes, my dear Mitsu,” and I smiled very unpleasantly, “he will most assuredly find out.”
I was standing in a garden outside the palace, watching the setting sun. The stunning fragrance reminded me in so many ways of Veruh. I wondered what she was doing right about then. I thought of wandering through the garden with her, an arm draped about her shoulders, and making love to her under the scented trees that dotted the landscape.
The brief rustling of wings was more than enough to inform me that Mordant had perched somewhere nearby.
“Hello, Mordant.”
There came no immediate answer. I turned in the direction I thought he was, and he wasn’t there. I frowned, and then his voice came from a tree behind me.
“What are you up to, Apropos?”
I turned and saw him there, nestled in among the branches. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Yes you are, and yes you do,” he said. He shifted his position slightly to make himself more comfortable. “I know you too well, have known you for too long. You do nothing unless it’s for yourself. So what is there to be gained for you by killing the Imperior? There’s certainly much more to be gained if he lives.”
“Peace of mind, to start,” I said. “If he dies, no more innocents will perish—”
“Innocents perish all the time, Apropos. They perish, they suffer, they’re treated in horribly unfair ways. The death of one man, no matter how powerful he may be in local circles, isn’t going to change that. Except I shouldn’t have to tell you that. You know it already. Which brings us right back to my wondering what it is you have up your sleeve.”
“I’m tired, Mordant. That’s all.”
“Tired of what?”
I sighed heavily. “Of letting the bastards win. Of not doing anything about it because I think it threatens me. Of believing that, because I can’t save the entirety of the world, I shouldn’t bother to try and save any of it. You have no idea how exhausting it is, always seeing the worst in everything. I want to try and make a difference. I want to try and be something.”
Mordant uttered a curt, disbelieving laugh. “Can I accept the evidence of my own earholes? Are you actually aspiring to be…a hero?”
“I don’t know,” I said thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. A hero is filled with altruism, and lives on a high moral plane. I’m simply someone tired of not giving a damn, so I figure I may as well try and give a damn about something. Because not giving a damn about anything isn’t making me happy.”
“Well, I’m impressed. I am indeed impressed,” said Mordant.
“There is just one thing that the two of us have to completely understand.”
“And what is that?”
“If you in any way try and hurt the princess, the last thing you will feel will be my teeth upon your throat.”
“Mordant!” I said with feigned shock. “And here I thought you were my friend.”
“I am. Were I not your friend, I would not have warned you. Now that you are warned, what you choose to do with the information is up to you.”
“You are too kind to me, Mordant.”
“Yes. I know. It’s my single fault,” said Mordant, and he launched himself away from the tree and angled away toward the palace.
Mitsu came to my room as I adjusted the sword upon my belt. My bastard sword was standing upright neatly in the corner, and the sai were crisscrossed on the floor in front of it. I would have no need for them that night.
She was dressed differently than I was used to seeing her, outfitted in a green silken kimono which did much to set off her eyes. She appeared apprehensive, as I had anticipated she might. “Are you quite all right, Princess?” I asked her.
“Yes. Quite all right,” she echoed.
“Come,” I said. “Your father is expecting me in his private quarters. We would not want to do something thoroughly impolite, such as be late.”
“Waiting for you?” she said. “But not for me.”
“I did not mention to him that you would be accompanying me. Why?” I asked. “Does that present a problem, do you think? He is your father, after all. Certainly he should be glad to see his only daughter, even if it is unexpected.”
“Yes. Yes, of course he would,” she said.
I nodded approvingly.
We passed through the vast hallways, strangely devoid of guards. I admired the statues, the tapestries depicting great moments in the history of Chinpan. Mitsu walked beside me, head held high. She didn’t seem to walk so much as glide across the floor, as if she had runners strapped to her feet and was moving across ice.
We reached the doors of the Imperior’s quarters, and it was nice to see they weren’t made of paper. That would afford more privacy. The doors instead were large, lacquered wood with carvings of birds and snakes upon them. The snakes had their mouths open and were moving toward birds who were desperately trying to get out of their way… and did not seem, by the looks of things, to be destined to succeed. I found the imagery rather disturbing.
I knocked, and heard the Imperior’s voice from within. “Enter,” he said. I gestured in an “after you” manner and Mitsu, with a quick nod, entered the room.
Her father was seated on an elevated chair at the far end, his hands resting lightly on the carved armrest, which also had the heads of snakes on either one. He was smiling gently, one eyebrow cocked when he saw that Mitsu had come in with me. “This is unexpected. Greetings, my child.”
“Hello, Father,” said Mitsu neutrally. I eased the large doors shut behind me. “It has been a little while since we chatted.”
“Much has happened,” replied the Imperior. “Po here has said many interesting things. He—”
“We’re here to kill you,” I interrupted.
The Imperior did not appear surprised. “I see. With that?” He nodded toward the sword on my hip.
“Yes.”
“You said you would make a gift of it.”
“And so I shall. I’ll deliver it point-first.”
For someone who was about to die, the Imperior seemed quite calm. “Indeed. And may I ask why you are about to take this murderous action?”
I turned to Mitsu. “Tell him.”
She looked from him to me and back again. Her face hardened. “Because of all you’ve done, Father. Because of what you did to the boy in the marketplace—”
