Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1)

Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1) Page 61

Bao grunted, wielding his staff. The butt end of it caught Jiang's man under the chin, knocking him from his horse. "Heh." Bao grinned; and then his mount collapsed beneath him, pinning him under its bulk.

Another soldier on horseback came at me, leering, a raised cudgel in one hand. He meant to capture, not kill.

Cold anger came over me.

Spoils of war—that's what Master Lo had meant to imply. That's what I would be considered if I were captured. That's the fate that may have already befallen Suyin and Mei and the other women from the ship.

I couldn't summon the twilight, not with the soldier's gaze on me. But in that moment, I didn't want to.

My hands moved smoothly and precisely. I unslung the bow from my shoulder, the yew-wood bow my uncle Mabon had made for me. I was Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn, and I'd been shooting for the pot since I was ten years old. With unerring speed, I drew an arrow from my quiver, fitting it to the string. I pulled the string taut against my cheek, and loosed it.

The soldier clutched his chest and looked at me in surprise before reeling over backward in the saddle.

I smiled grimly and nocked another arrow. "Who's next?"

As if to echo my question, a volley of arrows fell from above. There were archers atop the high walls behind us, shooting into the courtyard, driving Lord Jiang's forces back toward the outer gates. Some fled, some stayed and fought, no longer caring who they killed.

The outer gates crashed shut, trapping those who stayed.

Bao was on his feet, cursing a blue streak, putting himself between Master Lo and me and Jiang's men, his staff a blur, battering away arrows in midflight. I don't know how many times he saved our lives that night.

And then it was over.

Ten of our men were dead. Three dozen or more of Lord Jiang's soldiers had been slain. I dismounted on shaky legs and stooped to pick up my fallen satchel, settling its weight on my shoulder. Blossom gave a weary whicker and nuzzled my hair.

"Is this victory?" I asked Bao.

He leaned on his staff, looking unspeakably tired. "Don't know."

I looked up. "Master Lo?"

Slumped in the saddle, he roused himself. "No. Victory….. no. A brief reprieve in what promises to be a long battle."

The inner gates of the courtyard opened with a crash. Torchlight spilled into the square, silhouetting a stocky fellow who beamed at us, flanked by a hundred men in armor. The Imperial flag waved above them.

"Forgive me, esteemed friends!" he cried cheerfully. "We had to be certain you were who you claimed to be." He clasped his hands together and bowed, low and deep. "I am Governor Po. Welcome to Ludong City."

CHAPTER SIXTY

We spent the night in Ludong. Governor Po had a warm-hearted wife and seven lively daughters delighted to be awakened by the excitement of our arrival, and I found myself whisked away in their company. Despite the lateness of the hour, they took me to a bathing chamber, the daughters crowding around to watch and assist as I washed away salt-spray, sweat, and grime, feeling truly clean for the first time in long months.

"Tell us about the barbarian lands!" one of the middle daughters pleaded.

"Tell us of Master Lo Feng!" begged one with a scholar's dreamy gaze.

"No, no!" The eldest daughter giggled. "Tell us about his handsome ruffian apprentice!"

Tired as I was, it made me smile. "You think he's handsome?"

Amid much more giggling, all but one of the older girls agreed that Bao was handsome; the scholarly daughter proclaimed with a sniff that he had Tatar eyes and looked ill-mannered. And then Madame Po, vexed at their chatter, scolded them for wearying me and drove them from the chamber.

"Poor child," she said sympathetically, folding me into a clean cotton robe. "So far from home! You should not be travelling alone with men, even a man such as Master Lo Feng."

"There were other women on the ship," I said, wondering if Suyin and Mei and the others had escaped unharmed. I hoped so.

Madame Po made a clucking sound and shook her head. "Unsuitable women. Have you no parents? What must they think!"

"Oh." I smiled sadly. '"'Tis a complicated matter, my lady. But if my mother were here, she would thank you for showing her daughter kindness," I added, an unexpected swell of longing tightening my throat.

"Poor child," Madame Po repeated in a murmur, combing out the tangles in my wet, wind-whipped hair. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, hearing the universal love of mothers for their daughters in her gentle tone. "Poor little jade-eyed girl."

I wondered if I'd ever see my mother again, hear her call me Moirin mine in that same tone.

I hoped so, very, very much.

Afterward, a servant roused from the kitchen brought me a bowl of noodles in broth studded with bits of spiced pork. Suddenly ravenous, I forced myself to eat at a measured pace while the two eldest daughters rummaged through their clothes-presses in an effort to find garments that might fit me. I'd escaped with nothing but the dress on my back, which was much the worse for wear. Luckily for me, the girls took after their sturdily built father.

"You have very long legs!" Second Daughter said in an aggrieved tone, holding up a pair of loose trousers that fell well above my ankles. "Do all barbarian women have such long legs?"

"No," I said. "My father is tall."

She cocked her head at me. "What does your father do?"

"Ahh….. he's a priest."

"What kind of priest?"

I flushed at the thought of trying to explain Naamah's Service to a curious fourteen-year-old Ch'in girl. "The kind that solves other people's problems," I said. "Especially troubled lovers."

Her eyes widened. "What kind of problems?"

"Enough." Madame Po intervened, taking the trousers from her. "I'll have Seamstress sew a border on these. That will suit very well." She clapped her hands briskly. "Now, back to bed, girls!"

I passed that night in First Daughter's bed while she shared her second sister's. Another time, it would have troubled me to sleep indoors in a strange, man-made building surrounded by strangers. Not tonight. I was glad of it, even as I was glad of the high stone walls surrounding Ludong City. The girls' innocence, the sound of their deep, untroubled breathing served as a buffer between me and the ugliness I'd witnessed earlier.

The soldier I'd killed…..

Each time I neared the verge of sleep, his surprised face loomed in my memory, his hands clutching the arrow blossoming from his chest. In the heat of the moment, all I'd felt was grim satisfaction. Now it haunted me.

I had killed a man.

Well and so, he had deserved it. If I hadn't killed him, I would be chattel—or dead. I repeated the thought to myself over and over, taking comfort in the soft breathing of Governor and Madame Po's daughters, until weariness claimed me and I slept.

In the morning, we departed for Shuntian.

I hated to leave so soon. I could have stayed for days, enveloped in Madame Po's maternal concern, distracted by the curiosity and chatter of her lively daughters, protected by the high stone walls that would have once made me so uneasy.

But my diadh-anam flared at the sight of Bao and Master Lo; and there was another man's daughter awaiting us. The Emperor's warrior daughter, blindfolded and caged behind iron bars.

Demon-possessed Snow Tiger, who had torn her bridegroom apart with her bare hands.

Bao grinned upon seeing me in borrowed clothes. I wore a long jacket of peach silk trimmed with brocade over a pair of ivory trousers with a similar border hemmed in haste. "You look good. Almost like a Ch'in girl now."

I eyed him. "And you look like a peasant still. Will you wear that to greet the Emperor?"

He shrugged, hard, lean shoulders moving gracefully beneath the homespun cotton of his shirt. "It shows humility."

"Does it?" I had my doubts about Bao and humility, no matter how hard he strove for it.

Bao narrowed his eyes at me. "Do you want to say good-bye to your horse, witch-girl who sometimes talks to animals? She is not fit to ride yet. None of our mounts are."

That softened me. "Aye, I do."

Governor Po's daughters trailed me into their father's stable, where I said my farewells to Blossom. The filly leaned her head wearily over the stall door, apologies in her eyes. I rubbed the base of her ears, sensing the deep, trembling exhaustion in her.

Peace. I breathed the thought at her. Rest.

Blowing out her breath through flared nostrils, Blossom agreed.

"She was a gift from a royal prince," I said somberly to the Governor's daughters. "The Dauphin of Terre d'Ange himself." They gazed back at me, wide-eyed. "On the very day he gave her to me, I saved his life. She was bred to carry royalty, and she is a very, very long way from home. If I may return for her, I will. But if I cannot, will you see that she is treated gently? If you do, she will bear you each in turn with a good and true heart."

They nodded in fervent agreement, falling in love with Blossom the way of girls and horses the world over.

I bowed in the Chin fashion, hand over fist. "My thanks."

And then we were off, off once more.

I will not chronicle the whole of our journey to Shuntian. It is enough to say that it was swift and uneventful. We rode mounts borrowed from Governor Po. Lord Jiang had secured his hold in the south. North of Ludong City, the Emperor's rule was yet law.

We traversed flat, fertile lands along the rivers where peasants plowed the earth, guiding placid water buffalo with fearsome-looking horns.

We scaled mountains with pockets of snow nestled in their hollows.

In the mountains, I saw for the first time the Great Wall that the Ch'in folk had been building since time out of mind to keep the Tatar menace at bay. And I must own, even though I glimpsed it at a distance, the scope of it made me shudder.

It wasn't beautiful like the architecture of the City of Elua.

But it was so, so very vast.

It went on for leagues and leagues, crawling over the spine of the mountains, winding and climbing, tall watchtowers spiking toward the sky. I couldn't even begin to imagine how many men had given their lives in the process of building it.

"Many," Bao said softly in answer to my unspoken thought. "They say it is the largest graveyard in the world."

I met his gaze. "Your blood-father came from beyond the wall. Do you ever wonder about him?"

He shrugged. "No."

At other times, we spoke in hushed whispers of Black Sleeve and the Divine Thunder, wondering if a weapon so terrible could bring down the Great Wall itself. Bao was of the opinion it could.

"Lord Jiang, he does not have enough yet," he said darkly. "Not enough to challenge the Emperor's army. But every day, he is making more. One day he will have enough."

"Why would he do it?" I lowered my voice further. "Black Sleeve, I mean. And why is he called Black Sleeve?"

"For the first part, no one knows except maybe Master Lo," Bao said. "And he is not saying. They call him Black Sleeve because he carries poisoned darts in his sleeves," he added. "One day in the mountains seven bandits attacked him." He made a sweeping gesture with one arm. "He killed all seven just like that."

"Oh." I stole a glance at Master Lo Feng sitting upright in the saddle, wondering for the hundredth time at the relationship between them. "Not someone I'd care to cross."

"You already have," Bao pointed out.

I remembered the alchemist frowning at me in puzzlement and shivered. "True."

It was midday when we finally arrived at Shuntian and passed through the massive outer gates. It was a city so large it dwarfed my notion of cities. Stone and sea! There were so many people! They made way for us in the streets, staring after us with open curiosity. Whispers followed us, filled with speculation and hope.

"Lo Feng!"

"Lo Feng has returned!"

Master Lo ignored the whispers, as serene as ever; and yet I thought his face looked careworn. Bao ignored them too, but he carried his head high, eyes glittering as he returned to the city where he had once been the prince of thugs, the city where he had left his former self behind.

For my part, I kept my eyes lowered, trying to draw as little attention as possible.

It worked for a time.

General Tsieh and his men escorted us to a city within a city—the Celestial City, a city of crimson walls and yellow tiled roofs, walled and moated within a city of walls and moats. We dismounted outside its gates, subjecting ourselves to the scrutiny of guards in full armor. Their commander recoiled and shook his head when he came to me.

"No foreigners," he said firmly. "It is not permitted for barbarian eyes to gaze upon the Son of Heaven."

Master Lo folded his hands in his sleeves. "She is my pupil."

"It is not permitted!"

My mentor inclined his head. "Then we will go."

The general sighed. He, too, had travelled a very, very long way to reach this moment, and I felt sorry for him.

"Master….." I began.

He silenced me with a look. "Your gods placed you in my care and brought you here, Moirin. I do not know how your destiny accords with mine. I only know that it does. Will you heed it or not?"

My diadh-anam sang.

I sighed, too. "Aye, Master Lo."

The commander glowered underneath his bushy brows. Messengers ran to and fro, conferring. In the end, we were all admitted to the Celestial City, passing through the inner gates and stepping over the tall lintel.

"Meant to keep demons out," Bao informed me. "Don't step on it! Nothing but bad luck if you do."