Butterfly Swords (13 page)

‘You’re a good storyteller,’ she said. ‘Like Grandmother.’

‘Your sword-wielding grandmother?’

She nodded, looking up at the sky. It was growing dark. The creaking of the wagon wheels measured out their distance on the road. He wanted to touch her, just to capture how she looked at that moment.

‘What about your mother?’ she asked.

He rolled onto his back, startled by the question as if someone had given him a blow to the gut. ‘She had golden hair, blue eyes.’ Did he actually remember, or was he making this up for Ailey?

‘Was she pretty?’ Ailey’s voice sounded far away.

‘Of course.’

‘Was it an arranged marriage?’

Strange question. ‘No, they fell in love.’

‘You can fall in love in an arranged marriage, just the same,’ she said stiffly.

Ailey must have gone off on some path of feminine logic to start asking these questions. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, until she spoke again quietly.

‘I never thought of it. Of love separate from duty until now.’

He exhaled slowly. Male pride, he reminded himself, nothing more. Except that that didn’t explain the knots in his stomach.

She laid her forearm over her eyes. It was a good thing he was leaving before her heart started playing tricks on her.

His father had never recovered after the death of his mother. He’d wasted away searching for oblivion until he had finally found the sword fight that killed him. Ryam believed in love. The all-encompassing kind that hooked into your soul and sucked it dry.

‘You are going to be fine, Ailey.’

She nodded, eyes still hidden.

She was going back to her family where she’d be cared for and he would return to the lawless frontier of Yumen Guan where he belonged. Fortunately, it would happen before she made the mistake of falling for a scoundrel like him. The only thing he’d ever done that was worth a damn was leaving her alone.

A halo of warmth enveloped him and his eyelids dropped. Even if he could never bed her—though, by God, he wanted to—he wouldn’t complain about having one or two or a hundred more days with Ailey.

They could just trade stories, if that’s what she liked. And she could teach him how to fight with his eyes closed.

T
he great gong in the central square of Changan sounded ten times. Hour of the Rooster, Ailey told him. The hour closest to the autumn dusk.

The wagon entered the city through the west gate, past a line of archers stationed high on the earthen walls. He sank behind the mountain of wool and pulled Ailey down beside him as they rolled by the first garrison of the Eagle Guard. The capital city was laid out in lanes with a guard station at each major intersection. He touched a hand to his sword, even though he knew it would do no good if they were caught.

The sprawl of the city assailed him once again, unlike anything else he’d encountered in all of his travels. Thousands upon thousands of people crowded on to the criss-cross of streets, a living sea of black hair and honey-toned skin. The myriad rumble of a hundred conversations clattered in his head.

The name meant perpetual peace. But peace was hard to come by in what must have been the largest city in the world. Not even the greatest stone fortresses of the West touched on the breadth and scale of the imperial capital. The buildings were packed tight together. Laughter rang from the upper floors of the taverns and restaurants.

Their progress slowed to a crawl. He could hear Ailey’s soft breathing beside them as the wagon stalled at a bustling intersection. Even late in the afternoon, the lanes were clogged with pedestrians and pushcarts making their final rounds through the market. The hawking cries of the vendors rang out to announce final bargains before they packed up for the day. Fish, rice cakes, candles, medicines.

The last time he’d been here, Adrian had led them through the streets in a fury. The imperial palace at the north end was under siege and Adrian had been hell-bent on reaching Miya. The city seemed to have returned to its natural state of controlled chaos under Emperor Shen, though Ryam did notice a marked increase in the city guards on patrol. Shen had been one of the
jiedushi
, the only one with enough military power to maintain control of the empire after the death of the August Emperor.

The wagon bore a twisted path into the textile ward. With dusk upon them, the evening sentries began lighting lanterns at the main intersections. Activity in Changan continued late into the night.

The merchant Yin pulled the wagon to a stop before a storehouse just as another gong sounded. He started speaking rapidly to his assistant as they scrambled down onto the street.

‘Close of market,’ Ailey explained. ‘They must get their goods inside the warehouse or they will be fined.’

Ryam transferred the sacks of wool down to the assistant. As he hefted the last one, he glanced up to search for Ailey. She had circled around and stood beside the team of horses. Yin was bowing to her, his long beard dipping low. The movement caught Ryam off guard. Before he had time to make anything of it, a line of imperial soldiers came marching from the other end of the square.

He called to her. ‘Time to go.’

He jumped from the wagon and started for the nearest alley. It took him a moment to realise she wasn’t following. Ailey remained out in the square, in plain sight. She glanced over her shoulder at the approaching troops.

‘Third Elder Brother,’ she murmured.

A man in full imperial armour led the line. The dragon insignia displayed on his breastplate differentiated him from the city patrols. He had the same lean build as Ailey and the same proud demeanour.

Ryam stopped at the edge of the shadows while Ailey stared at him, looking lost.

So this was it. She had returned to the safety of her family.

An invisible fist closed around his throat. ‘You go on,’ he urged.

The guards were close. Ailey’s brother had sighted her and she stood caught between the two of them, her feet rooted to the ground. Ryam raised a hand in farewell. A pit of ice settled in his stomach.

She passed the tip of her tongue over her lips. ‘Will you meet me here tomorrow morning?’ she asked in a rush. ‘Fifth hour.’

This was a bad idea. She needed to leave it like this. His presence was too difficult to explain.

He heard himself answering without thinking. ‘Yes, of course.’

She backed away from him step by step, still watching him until her brother called out her name. Ryam took the opportunity to slip away.

Third Brother was surprised to see her. Her family had sent her off in her wedding sedan only weeks earlier. The first half of the marriage ceremony had been completed. She learned from Third Brother that Li Tao had not reported her disappearance to the capital. He probably planned to capture her and force her into silence as if nothing had happened.

‘I need to speak to Father,’ she insisted when her brother tried to demand why she had returned.

‘Are you hurt? Why are you alone?’

‘I am not harmed. Where is Father?’

He gave a frustrated sigh, falling into old habit. Someone else would have to handle little Ai Li. Third Brother had always left the discipline to the older brothers and the tormenting to the younger ones.

He led her to the north end of the city and through the triple gates that led to the Daming palace. The great entrance hall stood before them, a palace within its own right. A sense of foreboding fell over Ailey as she went up the steps. No matter how long they lived there, she’d never feel as if she belonged. She was the true pretender, a false princess trying desperately to act the part and failing.

Mother stood waiting in the centre of the chamber. The hall had been cleared of its usual retinue of ministers as they waited for an audience with the Emperor. The dark brocade of Mother’s robe stood out against the painting of the heavens on the wall, making her appear even more imposing. Ailey caught the familiar crease between Mother’s shaped eyebrows.

‘Heaven and earth!’ The sharp line deepened. ‘Where is your husband?’

She flinched. Mother’s sharp tone always made her want to hide behind something. As she stumbled over a reply, the seriousness of what she had done started to sink in.

‘Li Tao is not my husband…’ she began.

With a gasp, Mother took hold of her arm and pulled her out to the stone courtyard and past the administrative halls towards the inner palace. The entourage of servants parted in their wake, bowing perfunctorily as they passed. Back in Longyou, Father commanded the military outpost while Mother managed the household. Wen Yi knew how to rule long before she became Empress.

‘What has happened, Daughter? Did Governor Li send you away?’

‘I need to speak to Father immediately.’

She tried to pull away, but her mother held on fast, surprisingly strong for a woman who barely reached Ailey’s chin.

‘He will return tomorrow. Come along.’

The attendants were tiptoeing behind them, trying not to look rabidly curious. She would never get used to the army of servants that hovered around them like a swarm of evening gnats.

She followed Mother through the central garden, past the lake to the private apartments tucked away at the far end of the palace. When they had moved from Longyou to the palace of the Tang Emperors, the opulence had failed to touch her. She felt trapped within its sections and compartments. The lavish gardens that so impressed outsiders, to her seemed like a lifeless recreation of the wide world outside. It was filled with tiny trees cut into patterned shapes and ponds that had been dug up by hand.

But at least she was finally safe. She couldn’t say she felt relieved being here. She longed for the openness of the mountains and wished that Mother wouldn’t stare at her with such fire in her eyes.

In the Empress’s residence, Mother banished the servants to unseen corners with several waves of her hand. She pulled the doors closed herself and then faced Ailey.

‘Why would you leave your husband?’

Ailey took a breath. ‘I had to.’

‘Was he cruel?’

Mother’s expression softened. She came to Ailey and cradled her face as if she were still a child. Her frown lines etched deeper than ever, but Ailey was grateful to see that her mother wasn’t angry. Yet.

‘Tell Mother what he did.’ She dropped to the same hushed tone she had used when trying to explain the expectations of the wedding night to Ailey. ‘Was he too rough?’

Ailey brushed her mother’s hands away nervously. ‘Nothing like that.’

Mother so rarely fussed over any of them and it made what she needed to say even harder.

‘We never completed the marriage ceremony. There was no wedding night.’

Mother’s eyes flashed black fire. ‘How can that be? Did you run away with someone? Another man?’

‘Your daughter would never do that!’

Even though Ailey spoke the truth, the blood drained from her face. Immediately, her thoughts flew to Ryam and the thrill of having him to herself for so long. She was certain Mother could read every torrid memory that played across her face.

‘Daughter, what demon has possessed you? Governor Li will be affronted,’ Mother was aghast. ‘You have brought shame to our family.’

She couldn’t bear it any more. ‘I’ve never done anything to dishonour our name. I learned something about Ming Han’s death.’

Mother’s hand flew to her throat. ‘I don’t wish to speak of your brother.’

‘One of Li Tao’s servants came forward. Wu Jiang, who served under Father—’

Mother cut her off with a raised hand and Ailey had no choice but to bite her tongue. Wen Yi never shouted over anyone. She made sure she didn’t have to.

‘Li Tao is
jiedushi
,’ Mother declared. ‘He served the August Emperor faithfully. His armies protect the southern border and he is a war hero.’

Ailey felt herself shrinking as she was browbeaten by the litany of Li Tao’s accomplishments. For a moment, a worm of doubt crept into her. Wu could have been out to cause trouble, playing on her innocence. The old loyalties seemed to shift back and forth in these times. She had no understanding of politics. She only had instinct to guide her.

Her voice trembled. ‘I know that I’m right.’

Her mother drew herself upright, shoulders back and looking every bit the Empress she’d become. The Shen family was comprised of warriors. They rarely fought among themselves. When an impasse was reached, both sides knew it and it was time to reassess, to find another approach. But Mother was aristocracy. She expected to be obeyed without question.

‘You are a princess now,’ Mother said coldly. ‘Change out of that shameful peasant clothing and put those swords away. What does a woman need with swords?’

‘But Father needs to know.’

‘You will indeed speak to your father when he returns tomorrow. And you will be ready to apologise to him on your knees for what you have done.’

There was no sleep that night. Over the last week, she had slept on grass and rocks and sacks of musty wool, all more comfortable than her gilded bed. She thought of Ryam, lost in the cluttered wards of the city. The last time she had seen him, he had stood so far away from her, hiding in the shadows. Very much the way he had appeared when they first met. His face showed no emotion, but there had been an unspoken longing in his eyes. She knew him well enough to see what lay beneath the stoic mask. In their short time together, she’d gathered all the tiny details she could about him and locked them away.

Her thoughts of him carried into her dreams. He would be waiting for her come morning. They could leave Changan together. Her words mattered when she was with him. He believed her when she spoke.

But then she would be disowned by her family. Her ancestors would turn their backs on her ghost when it was her time to join them.

She rose from bed before sunrise and waited patiently as her dressing attendants floated around her, tugging and draping and powdering. All fashionable ladies of court started each day with the same long process. Usually she tolerated it, having become familiar with the routine after a year in the palace, but today she was actually grateful at the effort her attendants put into her appearance.

They combed her hair and twisted it into an intricate knot, tucking in pins one after another to secure it. One of the girls held up a tray of hair ornaments and Ailey absently selected several ivory combs and a golden pin with a butterfly design inlaid with jade.

The other girl dabbed jasmine perfume onto her shoulders and down at the low neckline of the embroidered bodice of her undergarment. The swath of silk was designed to pull the silhouette of her waist and bosom into one smooth, uninterrupted line, accentuating her figure while causing her curves to flow together. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the binding she’d worn around her breasts for the last two weeks. Maybe that was why she’d always seemed out of breath around Ryam.

‘A good day today, Princess?’ the older girl asked, seeing her smile.

They were sly. The palace girls thrived on gossip and no doubt they had all heard of her bold escape from Li Tao. She wouldn’t be surprised if they were making wagers on whether she’d be beaten or cast into exile. The thought dampened her excitement over seeing Ryam again, but only for a moment.

The girl wrapped a turquoise-coloured top about her shoulders. The sleeves draped like a waterfall over her arms. She turned this way and that, watching silk swish around her ankles. She wanted Ryam to see her like this for their final meeting. One of the elegant ladies that floated through the palace like spring flowers in the breeze.

She left her chambers and made her way out of the palace into the public area of the city, opening a parasol to shield her from the morning sun. The oiled paper stretched over bamboo spines gave her the illusion that she had some privacy when the truth was she was never alone in Changan. Two palace guards followed her the entire way. Coming and going as she pleased was one of the freedoms she relinquished when Father became Emperor.

Fifth hour, the hour of the Dragon, she’d told Ryam. But she was early. The wide lanes of the West Market lay barren. It was long before the market hour and the city hoarded its last moments of sleep before the stamp of a million feet crowded the shops.