The Stone Road (9 page)

The corporal stood behind the fallen bandit with his own bloody sword in his hand, “Never talk when you’re fighting. Kill your enemy and move on. Idiot.”

“Thank you, Corporal,” Zhou said, as his hands began to shake. He turned abruptly and added his breakfast to the bloodied mud.

“Pleasure, Sir. First time in proper combat?” the corporal asked and Zhou grunted in response. “You did fine, Sir. Might want to get a sword for next time, or practise a little more with the staff. Still, least you aren’t dead. I’ll see to your horse.”

From his kneeling position on the floor, Zhou watched the corporal rest a soothing hand on the horse’s neck, stroking it tenderly with one hand, whilst cutting its throat with a dagger held in the other. Zhou threw up again.

Chapter 12

Haung sat astride his white horse and faced the closed gates of the city. Behind him, the three stone cattle and their caretakers, plus five hundred troops and all the wagons needed to supply them on the road. His captain's uniform was not the only one amongst the band, there were two others, but his was decorated with the Lion insignia - the troops were his to command. The other Captains had roles to play in supplying his troops and looking after the cattle on the road. But, he was not in charge of the whole operation. Next to him, on a grey horse, rode
Fang-shi
Biao. Dressed in deep grey robes and carrying a long symbol scribed staff, it was hard to miss his presence amongst the army. To Haung, there was also the constant pressure of the man’s presence, his
Qi
, the energy that powered his magic. Haung’s training as a
Jiin-Wei
had made him sensitive to this energy and he usually felt comfortable and calmed in its presence. However, the
Qi
extending from Biao was disquieting. It grated on his own and set his teeth on edge.

“We are ready, Master Biao,” Haung said in calm tones.

“Then let’s go and begin to make an end to all of this.” Biao raised his staff above his head and the gates swung open on their heavy chains. The pre-arranged signal gave a mystical air to the proceedings. Appearances were everything, Haung’s
Fang-Shi
teacher had told him at the beginning of his training.

Haung and Biao led the assemblage of man and beast along the avenue, lined by locals, towards the now open gates. Haung sat, stiff backed, head held high, as the horse slowly trotted forward. The uniform, horse and man making an appealing spectacle to people of the city, inspiring confidence in the treaty signed the previous year. Appearances, again.

As he neared the gates, Haung noticed a slight figure dressed in a plain green robe, belted at the waist with a thin yellow sash, standing on his side of the road. She was smaller than the other adults around her but when she looked up at him, she towered above them all. He found it impossible to tear his eyes away, memories locking his gaze in place. In his ears, the blood echoed the sound of restless seas, each crashing wave a beat of his heart. He could feel himself being swept away into those dark eyes. His breath caught in his throat as she smiled shyly at him. He wanted to say something but nothing came to mind. Then she released him from her hold by turning back into the crowd and vanishing from sight. He wouldn’t let her go so easily and rose in his stirrups, craned his neck to try and catch another glimpse of Jiao.

“A problem, Captain?” Biao asked.

“No problem, Master Biao, just someone I recognised is all. I haven’t seen them in some time,” Haung responded in a calm voice at odds with his racing pulse and tumbling stomach, his
Jiin-Wei
training taking over. He looked straight into Biao’s eyes and gave a covering, embarrassed smile, “It may not even have been them.”

Biao’s stare back lasted just a little too long, “No, I think it was. Interesting.”

Neither man said any more as the procession left the city and headed down the old road surface toward the new at a sedate pace.

# # #

Moving an army, even a small one, was slow and never an easy task. So many things had to come together and work smoothly for the march to be bearable, let alone successful. Luckily for Haung, the Quartermaster Captain was very experienced and each evening he organised the picketing and setting of the camp. He ensured everyone was fed, sheltered and packed away in the morning, ready to move on at the appointed time. After the first day on the road, Biao retired to ride in his wagon with the two apprentices he had brought with him. Haung continued to ride at the head of the column, sending scouts into the countryside to ensure that firstly, the march was known by all the villages, and secondly, that there were no threats or Wubei troops who might attempt to steal the cattle. He was not too worried about bandits, five hundred men was plenty to tackle any threat. A Wubei attempt was also unlikely. The emperor’s seal would prevent them from taking any hostile action but old habits die hard.

Haung’s role consisted mainly of keeping order in the ranks, not easy when you had created the force from a mix of experienced veterans and the newly, pressed into service, trained troops. The veterans gave them backbone for the long marches and created confidence amongst the new men but they would not put up with any moaning from the new soldiers. Haung could see their point. Who were these upstarts, who’d never faced real Wubei troops in combat to complain about a soldier’s lot?

By the end of the third day of the march, there had been a few fist fights as the veterans taught the youngsters, even if they weren’t young, who was really in charge. Haung turned a blind eye to these but when one of the soldiers had been beaten so badly that his arm had been broken he had to take action. That evening he set up a military court in his tent. Biao was there, as were the other two captains, to hear the case. After the veteran had given his speech Haung was sure of the way it was going to go, but form and procedure had to be followed.

“So, we have heard from Shen what happened. An honest account, perhaps, but now we must hear from the complainant, Solider Wen,” Haung said to the court and the assembled soldiers. The side of his tent had been removed to provide all who wanted a view of the proceedings. It also served to ensure that everything was open, honest and that lessons would be learned.

Wen was helped forward by another soldier and it took Haung a second to recognise him, the suspected spy from the troops first day. He wrote a quick note with his brush pen which he passed to Biao. The response was a slight nod of the head.

“Soldier Wen,” Haung said to the pale faced man who stood before him, arm in a sling. “The Doctor has vouched for the veracity of your injury and has stated you will make a full recovery given time. However, there are two issues we must be take into account in this trial. Firstly, that to wound a fellow soldier is an offence. Secondly, and more seriously, to cause injury to a fellow soldier whilst on campaign is punishable, at the maximum extent, by death by hanging, should the soldier who dealt the injury survive the battle. Other outcomes are possible and the court is given great latitude in deciding how justice must be served. To this end, this court, and the assembled witness, will hear your account and that of any who you would have speak on your behalf. The friend who led you to the stand, for instance.”

The friend turned a surprised look towards Haung and the other judges, then turned to face Wen. Haung could see Wen’s mouth move but the friend just shook his head and disappeared into the crowd.

“So, Soldier Wen, perhaps you could begin?”

Haung and the other judges listened as the soldier stumbled through his account of the incident. He called upon three other soldiers, all new troops, to back up his account and heap blame upon the veteran. Haung thanked him at the end and then the judges huddled together to discuss a fit outcome. It did not take too long.

“Bring Soldiers Wen and Shen to stand before this court,” he instructed the troops acting as bailiffs.

“Now, we have heard the testimony of both sides in this matter and sundry other witnesses called to provide evidence of the incident. It is clear that Soldier Shen did strike Soldier Wen and, in the course of the altercation, did break Wen’s arm thereby weakening a unit on campaign. Soldier Shen is well aware of the regulations regarding this and Wen has been advised of his rights in this matter. However, this court is aware of other incidents between the established soldiers and the newer recruits. Further, it appears that this incident is the result of previous conflicts. As such, it cannot be taken in isolation.”

Haung paused whilst a ripple of whispers went around the court and crowd. He let them continue and swell for a few moments. The torches and lanterns flicked dancing shadows across the assembled troops.

“We, of Yaart, are at crucial time in the peace process. Nothing can be allowed to derail it. We have too much to lose.” Haung stood from his seat and walked out in front of the two soldiers on trial to address them and the onlookers beyond. “You all know, by now, of the disaster in the north and the flood of refugees that is inundating the city of Yaart. You know we are struggling to care for them all in this horrible time. Peace with Wubei, and accepting their assistance, is the only way we can survive this disaster and, even then, it will take many years to regain our previous strength.”

He swept his arm in a broad arc before their attentive faces, and though he spoke in low, passionate tones his voice was clearly heard, even at the back, “We are the first to cross this new road that links Wubei to our own great city. Surely, this will become a great artery bringing much needed help and aid in our desperate hours. We cannot let petty squabbles disrupt our mission. Too much is at stake.”

He let his arm fall and began to pick out individual soldiers with his eyes, holding their gaze, speaking directly to them. “Our homes, our wives, our children depend on us completing this mission. We will bring back such good news that our names will take their place on the honour scrolls alongside the greatest heroes in Jade Heaven. Nothing can be allowed to cause us to fail. Our failure would become Yaart’s and all of our loved ones would suffer.”

Then he found the face he was looking for, Wen’s friend, the possible spy, “We have fought wars with Wubei for thirty years and we've fought with honour. Even now, their spies search us for weakness of purpose, seeking any excuse to put the emperor’s sealed peace aside. It is they, I am convinced, that cause consternation in the camp, in the city, and amongst the refugees. It cannot be allowed. It will be rooted out and dealt with harshly. We will keep the treaty, we will have peace, and Yaart, your Yaart, will survive.”

He calculated his point to be made and raised both arms slightly, palms up, a pleading gesture, “Division cannot weaken us, it cannot be allowed. We are all complicit in the events of Wen and Shen. All of us have rooted for one side or the other. We have all stood on the side-lines, willing there to be a fight. Even as their fists flew, ours were with them, feeling the impact and the joy of anger released. But we were weak. Now, we must have renewed strength and purpose. We are not each other’s enemy. We are our families, our loved ones, our children born and unborn, salvation.”

He lowered his voice, but still the magic carried it to every man's ear, “The court has decreed that every man here is as guilty as Wen and Shen, even to the judges, and as such will suffer the same punishment. This to be held in abeyance until the mission is complete and we can submit ourselves to the duke for his final judgement.”

There was silence from the crowd as Haung turned back to the desk and raised his sword and banged it, pommel down, on the wood, “Court is adjourned, and may the emperor judge our souls.”

The crowd of soldiers muttered as they filed away. Wen and Shen shared a confused look before their friends emerged from the crowd to drag them away.

“Very good,” said Biao, “do you think your spy got the message?”

“We’ll know in the morning, won’t we. The Quartermasters have been instructed to pass out an increased ration of wine tonight and the guards all know their roles. The morning will tell.”

Chapter 13

“You finally made it then.” Not a question, a statement, and one Zhou could have cheerfully heard if it had not been accompanied by a sour look and worse smell.

“We are here, on time. The surfacing crew will complete the work within two days,” Zhou said to the Yaart foreman who had been waiting for him where the two roads joined.

“Ours is done. Been done over a week.” The Foreman spat a globule of phlegm onto the uncovered foundations.

“You didn’t come out of the mountains with winter storms at your back,” Zhou said, quite proud of his turn of phrase.

“That’s true, but then we didn’t choose to live holed-up in a cold, wet and windy wasteland.” The Foreman smiled at Zhou, an evil little grin that made Zhou’s hand move involuntarily towards his dagger. “Just words, friend. Don’t take them to heart. You Wubei are a touchy lot, ain’t you.”

“We lost men in the mountains, and more to bandits on the way here. I’d ask you to respect the sacrifice those men made,” Zhou said stiffly.

“I’m sure you would.” The foreman ferreted away at his armpit and gave a satisfied sigh as he found the source of his itch, “The bureaucrat in charge would like me to invite you and your officers to dine with us this evening. Then, we can wait for your surfacing crew before we have a proper joining up party.”

“We would be honoured,” Zhou said and he took the parchment the foreman offered him.

“That’ll give you the details and is also the pass to get into the camp. I wouldn’t be bringing any swords in. The men get kinda twitchy around them.” The Foreman bowed and then headed back up the Yaart road towards his camp.

“A charmer ain’t he,” Wang said whilst idly scratching the back of his neck.

Zhou gave him a look and shake of the head.

“What?” Wang said.

“You own anything nice to wear?” Zhou said, “You’re coming along tonight. If they start talking building and engineering, I want you there. And, try to look intelligent.”

Wang gave a short bark of laughter, “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Zhou walked away, hoping that it was a metaphorical comment. They had beaten the surfacing crew by a short margin thanks to an unexpectedly fortuitous outbreak of diarrhoea amongst that crew. The fact that Wang and a few other builders had visited them just two days before hand, Zhou put down to a coincidence rather than order an investigation. Still, no one died and that was good news.

Over the next two days, the Wubei crew dwindled as Zhou sent contingents of men back towards the home city to collect their pay and see their families. They couldn’t do anything else just sitting around. He remained in the camp with a few of the builders, some troops to guard the road and to be watchful of the Yaart, and, of course, Wang, to await the surfacing crew.

# # #

On the morning of the third day, a troop of riders were seen ambling along the road towards the Wubei camp. Zhou dressed in his second best set of clothes and went to meet them.

“Honoured Chung,” Zhou bowed, “it is good to see you.”

“Bureaucrat Zhou,” Chung looked down from his horse, the sun directly over his shoulder causing Zhou to blink and raise a hand to shield his eyes, “your builders have completed their task on time. I will note that in the record.”

“As was promised,” Zhou responded.

“Indeed.” Chung looked down the unsurfaced road towards the direction of the Yaart camp. “Take me to the Yaart crew.”

Zhou led Chung and his followers to the camp where he spoke briefly to the guards on duty. They fetched the foreman who, in turn, promptly fetched the bureaucrat in charge. He waddled towards them dressed in a fine red silk robe with a graceful stork embroidered upon it. The effect ruined by the robe's struggles to contain his girth.

“Ah, you are from the surfacing crew?” the fat bureaucrat said.

“I am Chung, Chief Bureaucrat for the engineers of Wubei who constructed the road.” Chung climbed off of his horse to introduce himself. Zhou watched him bow, as if to an equal, and the gesture was returned by the Yaart in red.

“Good, good. I am Peng, Diplomat to the Duke of Yaart. It is my pleasure to invite your officers to a banquet to celebrate the joining of the roads, a mighty task in itself, but also the beginning of a peace that will benefit both provinces.” The diplomat absently rubbed his belly. “I can promise you the best food and drink.”

“That is kind and we would be honoured to accept,” Chung said.

“We also have food and drink enough for your crew and ours, a gift from the duke to celebrate this auspicious day. Though I would suggest we lock all the weapons away. You know what rough houses these builders can be when they have a sniff of alcohol.” Peng smiled and chuckled at his own humour.

“A wise precaution.” Chung smiled also. “Until this evening then.”

They both bowed to each other, Peng returned to the confines of the Yaart camp and Chung remounted his horse. Zhou hurried to catch up.

“Zhou, organise your men, what’s left of them. I want my tent pitched and hot water prepared for my bath,” Chung said as his horse clip-clopped down the surface of the Yaart road.

“Of course.” Zhou bit down on the urge to say more.

# # #

As evening came, slower now that spring was in full bloom, Zhou oiled his hair and dressed himself in his best clothes. In the pockets, he made sure he had placed a perfumed cloth to scent his hands and face should he sweat or handle spicy food. Against his better judgement, he left his dagger in the chest and carried only the short staff of his office with him to the meal.

He left his own tent and paced the ground outside of Chung’s tent waiting for him to appear. His superior would lead the way into the feast and Zhou, after all the months in charge, would be relegated in position and importance again. Eventually, Chung brushed the tent's fabric door to one side and stepped outside wearing an opulent silk robe with silver and gold embroidery that depicted a scene from the story of the Jade Heaven. Zhou’s robe, pale green and decorated only with a small cherry blossom tree embroidered on the chest, looked cheap against it. He filtered into the procession amongst the rest of Chung’s followers as they made their way towards the Yaart camp where, it was clear, a party was already in progress. On the way, several wagon loads of food and drink passed them going in the opposite direction.

Passing through the camp, the Wubei men could see the soldiers and road builders of Yaart enjoying themselves. They were singing songs, drinking wine and tearing hunks of meat off of spit roasted pigs. Soon, Zhou expected, the same would be happening in the Wubei camp. The Yaart diplomat's tent was larger even than the one Zhou’s men had put together for Chung that afternoon. Two guards at the entrance pulled the heavy fabric tent flap open and bowed as Zhou entered. Once inside it appeared, if anything, even bigger. The floor was covered with woven rugs upon which embroidered dragons meandered their way around the skies and water in the scenes. A long low table ran down the middle of the tent that was already covered in bowls, cups, pitchers and plates full of fruit, meat, rice and dishes that Zhou could not identify.

The men of Yaart took up station on one side of the table and those of Wubei took the other. Zhou was relegated to fourth position, left of Chung and far enough away that it would be difficult to hear, let alone become involved in, any important conversation. The man across from him smiled as he sank, cross legged, onto the cushions set there for the feast. As the last of the dinner guests sat, servants entered from a different set of tent flaps carrying bowls of warm scented water which the guests used to wash the dirt from their hands. Hot towels were handed round for the guests to dry their hands and servants poured a healthy measure of rice wine into each man's drinking bowl.

“To you of Wubei, may the peace we have forged last forever,” Peng said raising his bowl and everyone drank to the toast.

“To you of Yaart, may your people be blessed with long life,” Chung returned the toast and they all drank again.

“So, Honoured Chung, how did you find the process of road building?” Peng opened the conversation with a suitably neutral subject.

As the meal got under way, conversation loosened up and they talked of many things. Zhou found the Yaart sat opposite to be a trader, though currently acting as the Quartermaster readying the supplies for the cattle and honour guard that were to follow.

“How did you find the villagers of the plains when you were securing the needed supplies?” Zhou asked.

“I think they liked me better than the builders.” The man laughed a deep throaty chuckle. “But, then, I was paying them for the food and crops. And what could the builders offer them? To demolish their houses for free, I'd wager is all.”

“Your builders had problems then?” Zhou enquired.

“Oh, nothing too extraordinary. The usual complaints and the odd old granny who refused to move out when the builders turned up.” The man took a drink from his wine bowl, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Strange lot, the villagers out here. Over the decades they have changed sides so many times that I don’t think they know who is in charge any more. I don't think some of them care. They are, kind of, a separate nation in some ways. With all the chopping and changing they’ve done, you know, I doubt they have paid much in tax to anyone. I expect they thought the road and the peace would just be another here today, gone tomorrow, event for them. All this must have come as a bit of shock.”

“No bandits?” Zhou held his own bowl of wine in his hand but did not drink.

“Not that I know of,” the Quartermaster replied, “though I left that side of things to the troop captain. You had difficulties in that direction?”

“Nothing too serious,” Zhou said as he inspected the dishes in front of him.

The night wore on slowly, time being marked by the melting candles and all the different courses of food that were brought out by the servants. There was a quiet lull in the conversational noise and Zhou could hear Chung and Peng talking.

“The road was completed on time but then there were no mountains for us to traverse,” Peng was saying.

“True, our forward crew were a little slow through the mountains and I had to push them quite hard to pull their fingers out and do the work they were paid to do,” Chung responded and Zhou almost choked on the morsel of food he had just popped into his mouth. “But, finally, they got there. I know that the council in Wubei are happy with the work I have done. We didn’t desire the embarrassment of making you wait for us.”

“More than embarrassment. My province is depending upon this road, and the treaty, to survive the refugee crisis we find ourselves in. If your forward team had been too slow it could have cost many thousands of lives. The aid your Duke has already sent has been most welcome but the opening of the road will greatly increase the flow and save many more lives.”

“Speaking, as we are, of the treaty, I understand that the cattle are already on their way?” Chung said as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Zhou, like every other member of Wubei party, turned to listen to the answer.

“Indeed, where did you hear such news?” Peng asked with equal nonchalance.

“A man stopped by our camp, a week ago or so. He said that he had come from Yaart way and seen a large force of men making their slow way down the completed section of road. Told me that this force of men seemed to be escorting three extraordinarily large cattle.” Chung picked at the wide bowl of steaming vegetables in front of him with his chopsticks and transferred a few select ones to his own eating bowl. An act so controlled and normal, that Zhou wondered whether Chung knew that every ear in the place was focused in his direction.

“A man told you?” Peng asked with a smile on his face. “Do you know his name? Perhaps our troops met him?”

“I don’t, isn’t that a strange thing.” Chung squeezed a vegetable between his chopsticks, raised it to mouth and taking a slow bite.

“Indeed, very strange.” Peng had not lost his smile, “Still, he was correct. The cattle are on their way as per the treaty agreed and sealed by the emperor. The duke is focused on ensuring that all the terms of the treaty are carried out to the letter and as quickly as possible. Also, I am told that the cattle do not move quickly and caring for them is time consuming, so an early start made a lot of sense. It was to be a glorious surprise and gift.”

“That is good news. When will they reach us here?” Chung asked, crunching on the rest of the vegetable.

“Tomorrow,” Peng said simply and the resulting silence sucked the air from Zhou’s lungs.

“Surely this calls for another toast, Honoured Peng,” and Chung raised his wine bowl to the other man. They both laughed. A laughter which spread to the rest of the table and Zhou did his best to join in as the wine started flowing in earnest.

# # #

Zhou woke the next morning with a headache that began somewhere in the region of his toes and sped up through his legs, body, shoulders and neck to pound into his skull again and again like a battering ram against a city gate. The back of his throat was dry and his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. He worked his gums and lips, trying to summon enough moisture to lubricate his throat. His belly was turning somersaults and he could feel gas building up in the pit of his stomach. There was no point fighting it and he let his muscles relax, the resulting smell was sulphurous and sent his stomach into more gymnastic flips.