The Stone Road (12 page)

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Authors: G. R. Matthews

Tags: #Occult, #Legend, #Fantasy, #Horror, #Sorcery, #Myth, #Science Fiction, #Asian, #Sword

BOOK: The Stone Road
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Zhou looked into the old man’s eyes and read the truth. The family's position was too low to exert influence and Wubei would likely be attacked within a few days, if the false reports Hsin was receiving indicated the true position of the cattle.

# # #

Zhou awoke next to his wife as the morning sun slipped into the room between the gaps in the wooden shutter. He contemplated going back to sleep but today was not one for relaxing. There was so much to do before they left. He shifted around and snuggled against his wife, his arms enfolding her slight frame and pulling her in close. Breathing in the smell of her hair, he luxuriated in the warmth of her skin. He could stay there forever but there was only one road in and out of the city that carriage could traverse and with the Yaart troops on the way his family needed to be gone from Wubei today.

Zhou kissed her bare shoulder to wake her gently and she murmured in her sleep. “We need to get up,” he whispered in her ear.

She grasped his enfolding arms and, for a few moments, drew them tighter around her body, “I know.”

They busied themselves, packing trunks with clothes and heirlooms that could not be left behind. Despite their quiet preparations, Zhou’s young son awoke. With a patter of feet the small, dark haired boy barrelled into the room and demanded attention. Zhou picked him up and gave him a strong, affectionate cuddle. The small boy patted him on the back in emulation of Zhou’s own hug.

“We’re going on an adventure today,” Zhou knelt in front of his boy, “you need to be a good boy and help Mummy and Daddy. Can you do that?”

The small boy looked earnestly into his father’s face and gave a determined nod.

“Good boy.” Zhou ruffled his son’s hair.

Zhou and his wife bustled around the house and even with the help of their son, they were not too far behind schedule when the packing was finally complete. Each trunk was strapped onto a two horse cart and then they were ready to leave.

Zhou locked the outer gate and gave the family home a last look of farewell then climbed aboard the cart. Settling onto the cushioned drive board between his son and his wife, he picked up the reins. The little boy was bouncing with excitement, at odds with Zhou’s sombre mood. He tried to smile as his son squealed and squirmed.

The streets were busy with people setting up bunting and decorations. As the carriage passed by, the family received many strange looks from people carrying coloured banners, food, drink, chairs and other items all fit for the big welcoming celebration that Hsin had ordered for the day of arrival. The talk of the whole city was the news that the cattle, and the successful Wubei troops, were almost here. The peace treaty was to be fulfilled and after thirty years there could be a return to prosperity, stability and security.

Then news, like a tsunami, spread through the city washing over everyone in a tumbling, dancing, and cavorting whisper. The cattle were here, they were early and the streets swelled with people rushing towards the city walls. Zhou brought the cart to halt in the midst of it all and hung his head.

“Husband, don’t stop we can still make it out,” his wife pleaded.

“We can’t, my love. On this cart, we need half a day to reach the fork in the road. The Yaart are already past that. The news would not have come this early if they were not.” Zhou looked at his wife, tears in his eyes. “Take him home. Lock the doors. Get into the cellar and lock that too. I had it stocked with food and water, enough for a few days. Stay there. I’ll come for you when I can.”

“Where are you going?” She gave him a panicked look.

“To do what I can.” He reached under the waterproof cover behind the seat and drew out his armoured jacket, a short bow, quiver and short staff. He hugged his wife and son, squeezing for all he was worth. Then he climbed down from the cart, “I love you.”

He grabbed the horse’s bridles and dragged them forward through the still moving crowds, down the road and then turned the cart down a side street. He stood aside as his wife guided the cart past him, her eyes never leaving his.

“I’ll come back, when there is time. Do all that I say. It will be alright, I promise you,” but he could not look in her eyes.

“Daddy,” his son smiled at him.

“Look after your mother,” he replied.

The cart trundled down the street to the next intersection then turned out of sight. He let out a quavering breath, pulled the armour over his head and cinched the belt tight. The bow he placed in the quiver, now strapped to his back, and carrying the staff he ploughed through the crowds to the city walls.

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Haung led the army around the final curve in the road and crested the rise to see the city of Wubei before him. A high stone wall surrounded the front and sides. Behind those, the mountains the city was built against pierced the clouds.

“Corporal, send back the word, we have reached Wubei. Bring up the cattle and the special troops.” He sat on his horse as the corporal rode back through the lines of men who had come to halt behind him.

Haung watched the city walls. The gate, a tiny brown smudge against the shades of grey, looked closed but it was impossible to be sure. He took a drink of water from the skin hooked over his saddle bow and waited. The sun, even as summer approached, was not as warm as it had been on the plains and he felt a chill creep its way across his skin.

“So that’s Wubei, is it?” Biao said from beside him.

“Apparently so,” Haung answered. “It has been a long time coming.”

“But it will soon be over.” Biao gave a short bark of laughter.

Around Haung and the
Fang-shi
, troops began to move aside as the cattle were brought to the fore. Their carers were with them, as were troops in the colour of Yaart and others in the uniform of Wubei.

“What if Zhou told them?” Haung asked Biao.

“He may have done, we don’t know,” Biao turned to look at Haung. “But does it really matter now? If he has, they will be ready. If he hasn’t, they won’t be. It is that simple.”

“I suppose if he has, and they believed him, they would have an army to hold the walls. Or, attacked us on the road where we would have been a much easier target,” Haung put some confidence into his voice.

“That too,” Biao chuckled, “stop being so glum. Thirty years of war will be at an end within thirty days. Be happy at that.”

“Captain Haung,” said the soldier wearing Chung’s face, the body being clothed in the finest silks to be found in the tent of the Chief Bureaucrat. “We are ready.”

“The voice isn’t right,” Haung said to Chung’s face.

“My apologies, Captain, I was using my own, not his,” said the face.

“Don’t slip now, apprentice,” Biao snapped, “not this close. Always in character, always. Think of Chung, keep his image and voice in your mind, the spell will stay strong that way. They may have
Fang-shi
of their own, or even just a talented
Wu
, who could see through it. One more day and it will be enough. Do not fail me. The punishment, I assure you, will be most harsh.”

“Yes, Master.” Chung bowed to Biao.

“Don’t bow so low,” Haung’s voice whipped out and slapped the apprentice wearing Chung’s face. “You are a senior officer of Wubei. One of Hsin’s most powerful supporters. You are not a servant.”

“Go command your troops, Chung,” Biao stressed the last word. “Haung, good luck.”

Haung nodded in return and rode his horse to the head of Yaart troops. Fake Chung took his position at the head of the cohort of Wubei uniformed soldiers. The cattle had their heads down, chewing on the sparse grass that poked up by the edges of the road.

“Let’s move out,” Haung commanded and they set out towards the city in the distance. He looked back over the heads of the troops to see Biao turn his horse away and ride down the slope.

At the cattle’s slow pace it took almost an hour for the city to grow, bit by bit, in his sights. The smudge of grey took on form and shape. The greys became distinct blocks. The doors were closed. Their massive timbers and metal work gathered definition and, atop the walls, he could begin to discern movement and his heart stuttered for a moment as he caught glimpses of sunlight reflecting off of metal. Each glint and sparkle, a sharp edge or armour plate. His hands tightened around the reins and, despite the relative chill, he began to feel beads of sweat drip down his forehead, chest and back. Fear was starting to worm its way into his heart, he recognised the symptoms and relied on his training to overcome it. The same wall of emotions he used when in the duke’s company now rose against his own fear and kept it at bay. In his mind, it looked just like the walls he was approaching now. Step by step.

Chung brought the convoy to a halt before the closed gates of the city. Far enough away so that they could be seen from the top of the walls. Above the gate a wooden, covered, balcony hung out beyond the wall and Haung could see many people dressed in fine clothes. Amongst them, he spied Hsin.

“Honoured Uncle,” the fake Chung called out, “I am here with the Jade Cattle. The offering of Yaart, under the terms of the most magnificent treaty that you, and you alone, were wise enough to negotiate. With these cattle and the seal of the emperor, we may have peace for the first time in thirty years.”

“Honoured Chung.” Hsin was speaking into the ear of another who shouted the words out. “Nephew, I am glad to see you have made my treaty a reality. We marvelled at the tales of your leadership in successfully completing the road despite the incompetence of others. Truly, this is an auspicious day for the whole province of Wubei. Peace is a gift we had never thought to receive again. Yet here we are, by the efforts of our family, in a position to give it to two provinces.”

Haung listened to the words as they carried across the cleared space before the city. Though it wasn’t the whispered, sibilant, snake-charmed voice of Hsin himself they were definitely his words. Haung gave a small snort of disgust at his arrogance. Even felt a small measure of sympathy for Zhou who had to deal with the man and his ego.

“Open the gates, Uncle,” Fake Chung called out when the old man had finished, “Let the treaty be completed, for here are the cattle.”

The apprentice waved his hand and the two massive cattle were led forward. Their hooves clicked sparks from the road surface, each step sent a sharp echo resounding from the walls. The muscles of their haunches rippling and writhing under the mottled skin.

“Nephew,” Hsin’s words again, “it is sad that one of these magnificent beasts died on the journey but it was an accepted risk and planned for. We received your message with sadness but equanimity. Peace is worth a sacrifice. You have done a great deed and your name will be honoured throughout the history of Wubei, alongside my own. Indeed, we will open the...”

Haung bored of the self-aggrandisement had let his gaze drift along the city walls and was pondering on the likelihood of a siege succeeding here. They had the necessary tools and resources to construct siege engines, if needed. The Duke had brought them with the rest of the army. But, it was not something that anyone wanted. If Wubei opened the gates and let the cattle in then after tonight’s meals and drinking, Haung and his special troops, the
Jiin-Wei
, would open the gates to the duke’s army. However, the sudden cessation of the speech caught him by surprise and he snapped his gaze up to the balcony. Raising a hand to shade his eyes, he looked carefully. There seemed to be some commotion up there, arms were being waved and there were hints of raised voices on the air.

Haung spat on his finger and drew a word on the horse’s neck. He whispered phrases and the drawn word glowed. Smoke rose and, with it, the smell of burnt hair. The horse danced a step or two before Haung calmed it down. Closing his eyes he concentrated on the spell he had enacted.

“... away.” Hsin’s sibilance.

“... Chung... not him.” The voice sparked a memory in Haung’s mind, but the spell wasn’t perfect, it could only amplify the words on the wind. If the air did not hang onto to them the spell would do nothing.

“Always... let it be... family...my... honoured.” Hsin’s voice, full of anger.

“No... trap... not right... listen... fooled, by your... arrogance.” Haung placed the dissenting voice, Zhou’s.

“Bugger,” Haung muttered and started to turn his horse’s head towards the Fake Chung.

“Guards... away.” Hsin again.

“... show you.” Zhou’s.

Haung rode towards Chung, not in hurry which would worry the troops and the city, but not too slowly either. All the while, his eyes were locked on the balcony. There was definitely something going on up there, the spell was picking up odd noises, thumps and grunts, then silence.

“Zhou, no.” Hsin’s voice, edged with fear.

Then, from the balcony, a lone arrow arced out, high into the sky. A small black shadow against the blue, a lone hawk seeking its prey, it rose to the apogee and then fell, gathering pace, plummeting towards its target, its sharp beak cutting the air before slicing into flesh.

Haung watched it fall, his eyes tracing its path, down and down towards the soldiers in Wubei uniform. But the shriek that came from its target did not come from a human mouth. Haung’s horse skittered and danced, the spell pulled every ounce of agony from the scream and magnified it a hundred fold in Haung’s ears. He fell forward on to the horse’s neck, grabbing its mane in both hands. He shouted a single word to cancel the spell.

The scream continued. It was the only noise in the utter silence before the city. Haung pulled himself upright and raced towards the cattle but even as he approached he saw the red and purple light start to streak into the sky like the black powder fireworks of a new year’s celebration. Wherever the light touched, the magic fled. The faces of the Wubei uniformed soldiers started to melt and twist. The apprentices’ illusion of Chung shattered into a thousand sparkling snowflakes even as the fake diplomat tumbled from his the horse.

Haung tried to make himself heard above the scream but it was impossible. The noise and the light scrambled his thoughts. He stood in his stirrups, waving the troops to turn around and retreat from the city walls. As he did so, a few more arrows arced down from the sky to fall amongst the men which heightened their panic even more. It was enough to get the men moving but despite the best efforts of the officers and corporals amongst them the retreat was not orderly.

The last remaining cow started to turn, fleeing the death of its twin. Other arrows from the walls sought it out but all missed. The cattle cared not where it went, or through whom, but once it got moving it was unstoppable and men died under its feet.

Meanwhile the first one was going through its death contortions. Haung found it hard to tear his gaze away. Its form expanded, then shrank and melted before exploding. A sharp crack echoed from the surrounding cliffs. In the crater it left behind, four black obsidian bodies. Statues of men, twisted and malformed, the art work of an evil mind.

Haung turned his horse and cantered down the road after his men. This meant a siege.

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