Clash of Alliances

by Pierre Dimaculangan

  ​“So there are others…” she said. “I curse all of you, wretched traitors. I’ll have all your heads mounted on a pike,” Fa Lien whispered to herself. She hated it. She hated what was happening to the brotherhood her ancestors built. Everything they had worked for was being undone by a bunch of government dogs— years of growth and preparation were going to waste. She resented the Terukk for allowing them to take over her order, but the priority had shifted to her own survival and the lives of any surviving loyalists. Killing the eunuchs and saving the Shan Gui would have to wait.

  ​Two of soldiers stayed behind to guard the cell of Jade Lotus while Fa Lien waited for the rest of them to exit the premises. She executed silent precision jumps to get from rafter to rafter. She swung down onto one of the support beams running across a tunnel entrance and dropped to the ground with a tuck and roll. Fa Lien the White Wasp, leader of the Shan Gui, was now the most wanted person in her own order. Very strange how much had changed in a few short days. “I have to warn the others,” she said under her breath. The problem now was that many of them assembled with their disciples on the far side of the stronghold. She raised her collar and lowered her broad hood, casting a visor of shadow over her eyes. “The best work is often done alone. It’s just you and the shadows.” She remembered her father’s words so clearly but never thought it would need to be applied within her own home.

  ​A series of old ventilation shafts, corridors, and sewer systems long forgotten crisscrossed through the stone structures of the stronghold, but navigating through them would prove to be taxing. Even the greatest practitioners of stealth would have difficulty getting passed a dozen li of tunnels and chambers full of hostiles. “Ah, bugger. Sewers it is,” she said. Fa Lien sneaked through an open area where a division of guards made preparations for the impending assault on the capital. It was the Incendiary Division. The whole hall was packed full of barrels and crates filled with explosive powder. They were occupied filling bombs and improvised explosive devices but despite the extremely volatile workspace, they all moved in complete silence. None uttered a word as they moved about mechanically and even mindlessly. Their eyes appeared to stare into nothingness. “These are no longer my men,” she thought. Fa Lien would have little trouble getting rid of them.

  ​She needed to make a diversion, have the guards focused on clean up rather than searching for her. One dive roll into a shaded corner of the room and she was already in their midst, unseen and unheard. A trio of guards strategically placed around the hall paced back and forth constantly scanning the area for even the slightest shift in light and shadow. Fa Lien once again sought elevation by shimmying up the stone structure that encased the hall. Wooden frames protruding from the pillars provided her a path to get to the far side of the hall. She dropped down silently and dashed behind a thick pillar to wait for one of the guards to pass.

  ​“Pssst!” she hissed, trying to lure him toward her direction. She stayed hidden behind the pillar with a combat knife at the ready. He had made only made seven paces toward Fa Lien’s location before his throat was slit with one swift technique. Fa Lien gently lowered his body behind the pillar away from view. No one else in the hall had noticed. Good.

  ​She looted the body for any useful supplies. A flint, some slow-burning matches, a length of fuse, round shell casings, and a pouch full of powder now belonged to her. “Wow, this is very convenient,” she said patting him on the shoulder. “I trained you boys well.”

  ​ It would not be long before the body would be discovered, however. She proceeded to the darkest corner of the hall and hastily assembled a grenade. Again, Fa Lien remembered the lessons of her youth, studying old manuals on pyrotechnics and fire weapons. She tightly packed a spoonful of the powder and a short length of the fuse into the shell then sealed it air-tight. The largest stash of crates and barrels were stacked near the center of the hall. She calculated the distance and included the bounce and roll the grenade would make once it landed. The fuse was long enough. It was doable. “Here goes, nothing,” she breathed.

  ​She struck the flint with her knife and ignited the fuse. With all her might, she tossed the grenade across the hall over the heads of everyone present, and it landed precisely where it needed to be. She dove and took cover behind the stone frame of a tunnel entrance. Before any of the soldiers could turn their heads, it detonated and created a massive chain reaction of violent, fiery explosions that shook the entire stronghold. Bodies flew in every direction, shards of steel and planks of wood flung outward impaling and tearing through everyone in its path. A pillar toppled over and crushed those who were consumed in flames. Others ran about, completely engulfed in fire. Some stumbled over limbs and burnt torsos. The sounds could be heard echoing through the tunnels and passageways for many li. Dust and the smell of burnt flesh flooded the tunnels that led to the hall.

  ​It was not long before horns and bells could be heard ringing and droning throughout the entire stronghold. Fa Lien opened an access hatch that led directly to the sewers as hundreds of guards made their way toward the blast site. Fires raged and scorched the stones into black. At least now they would be occupied with controlling the fires. Fa Lien hesitated for moment when her boots hit the watery ground. She felt sorrow for what had just happened. Nearly a hundred of her once-loyal soldiers were gone in an instant. “Suck it up, Lien. You’re becoming soft,” she told herself. Pain, exhaustion, hunger and thirst must have been creeping up on her. She simply clenched her fists and gritted her teeth before proceeding down the dark and narrow passages. Dim orange light seeped through the cracks and crevices above, and the shouts and barks of the guards echoed through the sewers. Foot falls and the clattering of steel reverberated as well.

  ​She had soon found herself beneath the stronghold’s kitchens and the smell of food led her to surface through a small manhole not far from it. Seeing it was empty, she grabbed pouches of brown rice and bean buns after stuffing a few into her mouth. A catwalk meandered through the stronghold and it was loosely patrolled by guards. It was a preferable alternative to the sewers and drains. The corridors were becoming crowded as soldiers ran to and from the site of the catastrophe. Others still continued to scour the many chambers and halls, searching for any sign of her whereabouts.

  ​Keeping her head low, she dashed through the catwalk with only the light thumping of her boots to signal her passing. She leapt from ledge to ledge and used her remarkable acrobatic skills to traverse rails and climb rocky wall faces. A deep gorge separated the two halves of the Shan Gui stronghold but she cleared the gap by swinging onto the rope that dangled from a system of pulleys near a wooden crane. No one on the nearby rope bridge had even noticed. The drop-roll landing was nearly silent were it not for the rattling of her gear. She made a bee line toward one of the main command chambers where the other leaders of Wulin gathered to discuss the impending attack on the capital. A team of guards stood outside the iron entrance to the command room and there was no way to sneak past them even if it had been completely dark.

  ​“It’s almost too easy,” she said sarcastically. She reached into her belt compartment and produced a small terracotta canister containing a concoction of various flammable chemicals. After igniting the wick protruding from its lid, she flung it right at the center of the guards’ formation. It shattered and popped as the fire seared the chemical compounds, sending plumes of noxious gasses that put the guards to unconsciousness in mere moments before they even had a chance to don their masks. Fa Lien smirked with satisfaction and took a bite off a red bean bun from her leather satchel. “Here we go,” she said.

  ​The iron doors creaked and groaned as they were pulled open, and she was greeted by another entourage of guards that stood between her and the rest of the eunuchs standing among other sect leaders. The guards drew their weapons and directed them toward her.

  ​“White Wasp, you’re alive?” said Warlord Li Hong.

  ​“It takes much more than a simple fall to deliver me in
to the afterlife,” Fa Lien replied.

  ​“They said you had turned against us and had attempted to murder the eunuchs,” said Master Zhuang.

  ​“Is that what they told you now?” she tilted her head back and laughed. “This whole thing is a lie. The eunuchs have betrayed us, comrades. They plot to do away with the masters so they could lead our armies for themselves— one eunuch for each of the sects with Liu Jin at the forefront. Look for yourselves! Do you not see how he has turned them against me?? I came here so I could warn all of you. I have proof from what I found in his journal.”

  ​The others looked to each other, skeptical of her claims. “There is a journal? What journal?” said one of the eunuchs, who glared at her maliciously.

  ​“I… I don’t have it with me, but I will find it and prove it to all of you,” she said.

  ​“No you will not because there is no journal, fool,” said the eunuch.

  ​Liu Jin made an unexpected entrance into the command hall, hands resting behind his back. “Do you not see, my brothers? Even now she works to turn you against us and against the Pale Ones. She is the one who seeks to betray you and take all your authority for her own, just as I said. Did I not warn you that this was going to happen?” He turned his gaze to Fa Lien and glared at her with a wicked smirk. “You have always been ambitious and power-hungry. Now it is your undoing. The united leaders of the Underworld will never relent to you, White Wasp.”

  ​“You bastard! How did you get— ”

  ​“Guards, remove her head!” The guards raised their blades and charged at her while the other sect leaders simply looked on. It was hopeless. Fa Lien was alone, and now she had to escape from her very own home. She made a beeline toward the exit which quickly filled with fighters. Fa Lien executed a wall run to avoid the incoming guards. They gave chase, trying to kill the one whom they had considered to be their undisputed leader just weeks prior. She may manage to stay several paces ahead, but the entire stronghold now considered her to be their enemy and she would not be able to evade them for long in their own territory. She tossed a handful of caltrops over her head and could hear the screams of agony some moments after. Risking a look over her shoulder she saw many of them stumble over the painful traps but many more leaped over them and continued their pursuit. Several crossbow bolts and arrows whistled past her face and one managed to graze her cheek.

  ​Fa Lien cursed under her breath as she skillfully vaulted over a set of boxes and fence posts, but even with her acrobatic skill, the pursuers managed to slowly close the distance. She headed toward a long tunnel that forked into three other passages. Several smoke pellets detonated in sequence at the entrance to the fork and reduced visibility to mere hand lengths. The pursuers coughed and squinted through the smoke as they masked their faces. Fa Lien had disappeared. When the smoke and dust had dissipated, all trace of her had vanished.

  ​“Split! Scour every chamber and alcove that these tunnels lead into! She cannot outrun us forever!” shouted the commanding officer. They were right. Fa Lien could not out-run them forever. That was why she hid. After all the puppet soldiers had proceeded down the tunnels and the darkness had resumed, she released her spider-like grasp in the tunnel’s high ceiling and dropped into a silent landing. She pushed against a brick in the tunnel wall until a hatch in the floor unlocked with an audible clack. With a pull and heave, Fa Lien opened the hatch and descended into the old, forgotten corridors of the original stronghold from days long past.

  ​“Sometimes it pays to keep some business secrets to yourself,” she muttered. The passages, unused for centuries, winded and turned throughout the underbelly of the stronghold and continued for several li and eventually led to the catacombs. There, hundreds of key disciples of the Shan Gui’s ancient past were put to rest. Some of her own ancestors were laid to rest inside many of the sarcophaguses that populated the monumental hall. She raised her torch and navigated the maze-like expanses of the catacomb until the path led to a sealed cellar. With a pull of the lever, the heavy stone door unlatched itself from the wall and swung open. Inside, a wide array of weapons, tools, and wears were laid out before her. She replenished her supply, sharpened her sabers, and changed into the black and golden robes and armors of her renowned grandmother.

  ​“I’m sorry, grandmother. I have failed. I hoped to have rebuilt the order to its former strength and beyond… but now all is lost.” Fa Lien proceeded to the far end of the cellar and climbed a ladder some twenty stories to the surface world…

  ****

  ​“Do you hear that?” asked Wen Ping as he craned his neck to hear the approaching commotion. “It approaches from the northeast,” he said.

  ​Xin signaled for the team to take cover in the bushes. The sounds of grunting and struggling fast approached. There were many feet, all were in a sprint, running, and leaping. “Less than a dozen, maybe ten are moving in haste on foot,” Xin whispered as he closed his eyes to listen to the incoming commotion. He crept to an elevated position for a better view of what was approaching. A young woman dressed in black combat attire flew through the woods with great speed. Her hair was long and unfurled and trailed behind her. There were many others, similarly dressed, running close behind, though they had their swords and axes drawn. Several more moved from treetop to treetop using the large branches as platforms for their acrobatics. The woman spun around midair and hurled a throwing knife into the trees and one more into one pursuing from behind. One of the pursuers fell from the canopy, while other on the ground collapsed unto the forest floor. The knife had buried deep into his eye socket, and the other received it straight through the throat.

  ​“It seems we have already found the Shan Gui,” Sun Xin whispered to himself. One of the figures launched from an extended tree branch in an attempt to assassinate the fleeing woman from the air. A short sword extended from his hand ready to strike. Right before it found his target, a crossbow bolt found his head instead and caused him to flip backward head over heels and collapse into the rocky ground. Xin emerged from the bush and openly engaged the Shan Gui agents, while the team engaged from close behind. The black clad figures redirected their attention to Sun Xin and his team and moved to fight them. Xin reloaded his crossbow and released a short arrow into an assailant’s chest before proceeding to cut another one down with a throwing knife. He crossed blades with a third who rushed him from the rear. The attacker was incredibly strong; his strength was greatly disproportionate to the size of his frame, and Xin felt it as he was shoved backward with relative ease even after he dug his boots into the ground for some traction. Xin sidestepped to redirect the force then executed three quick slashes across his chest before finishing him off with a spinning wheel kick. The force of the blow sent the Shan Gui warrior stumbling into the protruding roots of a felled tree, which impaled his body in several different places. Despite his small victory, Xin recognized that the assailants were no ordinary cutthroats.

  ​Buff Baby roared and grappled with two at the same time. He managed to grab one by his head and fling him into a distant boulder. The second assailant swung a horse cutter great sword down toward his face, but the blade was broken in two when it clashed against Buff Baby’s heavy Guan Dao glaive. Weaponless, he attempted to wrestle the weapon away from Buff Baby’s grasp but was mistaken to underestimate his strength. He failed to disarm Buff Baby and was thus disemboweled with one quick swing across the belly and he died before his entrails finished slopping onto the forest floor.

  ​Zuo Shilong joined the fray, bringing his iron rod to bear. He spun the weapon around at the nearest opponent who attempted to parry the attack with a broadsword. It bent and buckled beneath the blow and gave way enough for the rod to smash into his head. The second was more cautious in his approach as he spun a pair of chained sickles in his hands. He lashed them out toward Zuo Shilong, who struggled to duck and evade the flying blades. One had managed to graze across his leather cuirass, cutting across the chest area, barely tearing through his
robe. Zuo Shilong evaded the attacks with backhand springs and then thrusted his staff forward when there was an opening in the attack; it caused his opponent to stagger back but quickly recover nonetheless. Zuo Shilong only managed to finish off the Shan Gui agent by sweeping him off his feet and neutralizing him with a downward slam. Blood trickled down his upper cheek and was surprised that the Shan Gui fighter managed to cut him a second time.

  ​Nearby, Wen Xiao and Wen Ping barely managed to finish off one other who was exceptionally skilled in an acrobatic style and were left exhausted after the scuffle. In the distance, Big Bang fired off several rounds from his multi-barreled hand cannon, but none had found its target. Ironically, he managed to fend off his opponent by using his weapon as a club.

  ​Jirgal, however, had attempted to avoid conflict altogether. When confronted by one of the assailants, he turned to run for his life and stumbled over creeping tree roots just in time to fall underneath the fighter’s sword swing. Jirgal scrambled back to his feet and desperately pushed through a protruding tree branch to get away. He bent the branch to its fullest tension until he was through; the branch snapped back to position and, in the process, disabled his attacker with a blow to the face. The last of the assailants attempted to rush him head on as Jirgal struggled to draw his rusted old saber. Jirgal could barely remove it from its scabbard, and it fell from his grasp by the time he managed to free it. Timely enough, the attacker swung at his face as soon as Jirgal bent down to pick it up. The attacker staggered forward from the miss and was knocked out when Jirgal stood up and bumped his head right underneath his chin. He hit his head upon a stone and never got back up.

  ​“Well that was easy, wasn’t it?” said Jirgal. “These guys aren’t so tough after all,” he continued to say, feeling quite good about himself even though he was visibly trembling from fear.