Six Celestial Swords (4 page)

Now rise, Guang Ci, and assist the others in building a pyre for the bodies. We will not leave their corpses to defile such beautiful land as this.”

THE WORLD CAME back slowly. Xiadao Lu sat up against the tree that ended his unexpected flight and shook his head. His ears were ringing and his back ached through to his chest. Even his teeth hurt, but nothing appeared to be broken. He moved his limbs experimentally and thanked the enchantment on his armor. Then he looked at the rift he was sitting in, that had followed him on his swift and forced dash across open land. Were it not for the solitary tree fortuitously in his path he might still have been going.

He rubbed his undamaged but aching wrist that he had twisted when his pole-axe caught on the earth and was ripped from his grasp, and a satisfied grin split across his jaw. “You’re more powerful than I’ve heard, Xu Liang.”

Xiadao Lu suddenly laughed and stood, jogging along the rut until he came to his weapon, still intact; they’d both survived the mystic’s assault.

He seized the weapon and tore it free from the earth, then glared through the blanketing darkness of nightfall toward the village. “We’ll meet again!”

On that vow, Xiadao Lu turned and fled the area.

THE MOON SHONE silver over the night-blackened Tunghui. Xu Liang stood at the railing of the
Swimming Dragon
, looking back toward land and the village that glowed with calm lamplight in the near distance. It appeared that there would be no immediate retaliation for the bandits’ defeat. Their main forces must not have been camped nearby, or perhaps what Xu Liang had seen amounted to all of them. All of them save for the individual who was funding them, who knew Xu Liang would arrive at that village when he did, because the village itself was not the target.

Several at the Imperial City had known of Xu Liang’s departure, but few had been made aware of his destination. Regardless, it seemed that someone did not want him to proceed. Whoever they were, they had failed in this attempt to stop him, but he would have to be more prepared for the next.

T
I LAO WAS a merchant community and also a fishing industry on a much grander scale than the village further up the Tunghui River. The city itself was walled, containing at least ten thousand households along with the magistrate and his family while outside, a flourishing settlement had cropped up. These were the peasants, peasants who were also fishermen and artisans. They wore hemp-linen instead of silk and their sons learned the skills of their fathers and grandfathers, rather than studying for military or civil service.

Xu Liang had never known such a life, but he had grown to admire it. A child prodigy, he had passed his first test for a raw officer status at the age of fourteen. By sixteen, he was excelling in the ranks and by seventeen, he had Emperor Song Bao’s attention. Through rigorous and constant study, Xu Liang—now thirty-two—had secured his path in life, though he knew well that it was the wealth and status of his family that had opened that path up for him to begin with.

Born to Lord Xu Hong of Du in the nearby city of He Jung, Xu Liang was the second son behind one already a man, and thus became the center of much attention from the start. However, such attention came with less admiration and more suspicion as people quickly began to wonder how the Xu family—known for its men of large physical stature, who were roughly handsome and possessed of fiery tempers—had acquired one such as Xu Liang. At first considered a sickly child, he rapidly bloomed into what some had labeled a creature of astonishing beauty and mesmerizing grace. Of course Xu Hong’s wife was a most charming and attractive woman, but in all of Sheng Fan only one family was famed for its abundant fairness of form and manner.

The Xiang family, who ruled the northern kingdom of Ying, had long been referred to as the Peacock of the Empire. As well Xu Hong’s wife had in the past been suspected of carrying on with none other than the head of the Xiang household, Lord Xiang Wu. In Xu Liang it seemed confirmed. In spite of that, it was not mentioned outside of the family that the highest household under the banner of the Green Dragon had a Peacock in its midst, masquerading as one of its own. Xu Hong may have been a gruff, temperamental man, but he was no fool and he saw the efflorescing child’s potential. In Xu Liang, the Lord of Du saw an opportunity not only to acquire greater fame throughout the Empire, but to enact an uncharacteristically subtle revenge against his rival.

Rather than accuse his wife publicly and expose her illegitimate child, which would have required him to deliver some form of punishment before ‘grudgingly’ adopting her son, Xu Hong kept the matter a family secret. He decided that he would not sponsor an adopted son along the path to imperial office, but his own natural child. As Xu Liang continued to blossom mentally as well as physically, Xu Hong’s scheme quickly saw success. Not only was his eldest son a strong and capable heir to his kingdom under the Empress, but his second son was among the highest ranked in the Empire, above even the governor of Ying, who had thought to shame him in secret by luring his wife to dishonorable acts. While unquestionably it was Xu Hong’s foresight in this matter that spared his wife execution, it may have had something to do with his mercy in light of her crimes that he later procured two more sons by her, both strong and burning with his warrior’s blood. It did not take them long to excel in the Empire’s military ranks. And, unfortunately, there was no prouder man in all of Sheng Fan than Xu Hong, the most difficult to reason with of all the Kingdoms’ governors.

In spite of this, Xu Liang felt remiss for not stopping to pay his respects to his parents—either in Du or Ying. He had sent a message to Xu Hong, letting him know that he would be passing through his territory—not as a requirement but as a courtesy. Even though Xu Hong had been disdainful, insensitive, and even vicious innumerable times throughout Xu Liang’s childhood, concerning whose blood was to blame for any weaknesses he might have displayed, the Officer of the Imperial Court would not repay the wrongs committed against the son. If there had been time to go to He Jung himself, he would have. While he didn’t often look forward to lengthy visits with Lord Xu or his half-brothers, Xu Liang enjoyed spending time with his mother. As well he longed to spend meaningful time with the man who had sired him.

Even though their first meeting occurred when Xu Liang was already a man and the blood shared between them had never been spoken of, he still felt the connection to his natural father. Xiang Wu seemed aloof, but it was understandable. He had lost two sons without including Xu Liang, both stillbirths. His fourth son was still a boy and no one to carry on his position as Lord of Ying yet, if he should be somehow removed from that position. Unlike Xu Hong, he had earned all of his fame within the Empire on his own and the strength of Ying rested solely on his shoulders. Somehow he maintained the northern region and also his position as its governor. Xu Liang, who was aware of but not imbibed of his rank above both his natural and adoptive fathers, couldn’t help but to respect Xiang Wu and to feel some pride in succeeding as his son. He felt pride and at the same time he regretted that he could not sometimes be recognized as a son of Ying.

The foolishness of the notion made him smile inwardly. What did it matter whether he was recognized as a son of Ying or of Du? Ultimately they were all children of Sheng Fan. He served his Empress above all. Immediately beneath Sheng Fan’s sovereign, he had no choice but to serve his recognized paternal family. He always felt sentimental before leaving his homeland. He would recover once the river had carried him out to sea, delivering him to a land where he would be surrounded by people who didn’t try or care to understand the structure of family and government in Sheng Fan.

Unfortunately, he was having some difficulty convincing any of the boats lining Ti Lao Bay to leave on such short notice for such a lengthy journey. He hated to resort to using his station with the Empress in this instance, but if he must he would present the seal of Imperial Office and commandeer a vessel.

For his previous expeditions there had always been much more time to plan, to arrange the necessary accommodations. Haste juxtaposed against caution made such planning impossible now. It would be imprudent to present a trail of communication and contracts or imperial orders for an enemy to follow ahead of him, although now, in light of the previous assault his company had suffered, the effort seemed futile.

An old woman selling bowls of rice with portions of fresh fish put the dilemma momentarily aside. Xu Liang moved through the crowded outer streets near the docks, unconsciously following her sales pitch. He had not eaten for several days, but that was not the reason he was drawn to the stand. The growling stomachs of his bodyguards actually threatened to break his concentration.

“Fish!” the elder called out. “Caught this morning!” She noticed Xu Liang approaching and made quick eye contact. Her smile broadened. “Fresh fish,” she encouraged. “You’re hungry, yes? Have some.”

She was already serving. She scooped the rice into a generous bowl and began selecting recently cut portions of fish. There were the remains of older fish lying close by on the same table, but she had undoubtedly noticed the lavish dress and courtly manner of her customer, and didn’t dare to offend with less than what she’d advertised.

“You’re handsome, but you’re thin.” She handed him the bowl and Xu Liang paid her. “You eat more, okay?”

He smiled. “Thank you, madam. You are a woman of ineffable wisdom.” She nodded pleasantly and Xu Liang added, “Might I trouble you for seven more?”

Her smile faded briefly. She watched him hand the first bowl back to one of his men and her confusion ended. The enormous grin returned and she bowed informally. “Seven more. Yes.”

The food was delivered. Xu Liang paid the woman and thanked her, then waited while his men stood in the general vicinity of the stand and ate their afternoon meal. It was much more convenient to buy food in a place such as Ti Lao than to trouble with the rations, and it would also save the rations for when they might truly need them. There was no telling precisely where this journey would set them and under what conditions. Xu Liang knew there were mountains to cross after crossing the ocean. They were cold mountains. Life was sparse and they would not be able to rely on hunting.

“The woman is right,” came the voice of his eldest guard.

Xu Liang looked at the older man attentively. “About what, Gai Ping?”

The man swallowed a mouthful of rice. “You should eat more.”

“I’ll note your concern,” Xu Liang answered, smiling faintly. He knew that Gai Ping was not making a comment about his slender frame, which appeared thinner due to his height—a trait he owed to his Xiang heritage. Rather, he understood that the man was making verbal note of the fact that he had not seen his master eat since they’d left the Imperial City. Xu Liang had neglected to inform his guards that he would be fasting throughout their journey. Strange as it seemed, not eating would be necessary to maintain his strength on this journey—not physically but spiritually. He would tax his magic to its limits in this effort and it would require much meditation and a level of inner pureness that one could not achieve through any form of indulgence. Even if that were not so, he wouldn’t feel right eating while she could not. So long as his Empress suffered, so would he.