Butterfly Swords (26 page)

T
he soldiers led Ryam out of the hut and prodded him towards the forest. Four of his men in his regiment stood beside the road. It was the first time he’d seen them since they were captured. At one point, he’d considered that they might already have been executed. The warlord could still execute them now. No one would ever find a band of barbarians tossed into the thick of the bamboo forest.

Ryam approached his men in a silent parade with a pair of soldiers on each side. The chains weighed down his wrists and ankles. The men were similarly shackled, but he saw immediately that they hadn’t been mistreated. The only injuries evident were ones they’d sustained in the fight.

He wasn’t able to talk to them, but he was brought to the front as they marched down the dirt road. The crash of cymbals came from the direction of the mansion. The wedding procession was beginning. Ailey had bought their freedom with her life.

Part way down the road, the captors stopped to unlock their chains. All of the schemes Ryam had considered through the night came back to him. He’d attack the soldiers with his bare hands. He’d disarm them and take their swords to fight his way back. Desperation would give him the strength to do it.

The cymbals grew louder, accompanied by the sound of drums and horns. His men were watching him carefully. They’d fight if he told them to—unarmed and outnumbered, hundreds of miles from home. Thousands of miles, in truth.

He realised then that all of his daring plans would come to failure.

‘I’m staying,’ he said.

Li Tao’s soldiers tensed when he spoke, not understanding. But he was addressing his men. He turned to the veteran among them.

‘Bertram, take them back to Yumen Guan.’

‘If you stay, we stay.’

And they’d die. This was brotherhood beyond blood. ‘You’ve done enough. This is my fight now.’

The guards reached for their weapons.

‘Róngyù,’
he declared.

The captors paused. He repeated in case his inflection was all wrong the first time. This was no plot. Just a decision he’d finally made.

Róngyù.
Honour.

They frowned and looked at one another. He’d learned plenty from fighting alongside Shen An Lu’s soldiers in the palace rebellion. Begging for your life made you an unredeemable coward, but demanding to die the proper way was always taken seriously.

‘Go,’ he said to the men who’d fought with him.

They didn’t like his command, but they obeyed it. They had fought well in the corridor when he’d brought them against insurmountable odds. He wouldn’t let them sacrifice their lives for him. Ailey had once told him she’d rather die than marry Li Tao. He wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself either.

He gave one final nod to Bertram before they disappeared into the bamboo. The captain of the guard shook his head at him, appalled that a barbarian would try to mimic their traditions. But they led him back towards the mansion.

Li Tao’s defence command assembled in the front square along with a regiment of imperial soldiers. At the centre of the congregation, four servants lifted a bamboo sedan carrying a woman in red silk. The soldiers tried to drag him around the back of the house, out of sight.

Once the wedding was done, it would be too late.

‘Li Tao!’ he shouted. And then he shouted his one-word challenge again. Honour.

The captain struck him with the back of his hand.

A murmur snaked through the crowd and the woman pulled the cloth from her face. Ailey. Her mouth fell open, her lips painted scarlet.

She tried to rise and the sedan lurched as the carriers struggled for balance. Li Tao stood on the front step. His soldiers poured out onto the square like a swarm of black ants. ‘Stand down.’

The command came from a man in dragon armour standing beside Li Tao. Emperor Shen stared him up and down before beckoning him forwards.

Ryam moved warily past the gauntlet of drawn swords and bowed to the Emperor. Li Tao’s black eyes looked as if they could pierce armour.

A look of recognition crossed the Emperor’s face. ‘
Bái xiá.
What is your business here?’ the Emperor asked calmly.

Being referred to as white warrior was a bit better than white demon. Ryam glanced down at his ragged clothing. He hadn’t expected to do much talking. ‘I am here for your daughter.’

‘Take him,’ Li Tao ordered in disgust.

‘Wait.’ Ailey scrambled from the sedan. ‘You promised to release him.’

She stepped between them and faced Li Tao, forming a barrier with her slender form. His warrior girl, still trying to protect him. Li Tao fixed a possessive look on her that made Ryam want to plant a fist in the man’s face.

Ryam stared at the flowers pinned in her hair. ‘I should have said yes,’ he said quietly.

She glanced back at him. Her lips parted to speak.

‘Swordsman.’ The Emperor’s voice rang out over the assembly, cutting off Ailey’s reply. ‘You are disrupting my daughter’s wedding.’

‘I swore myself to Li Tao,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘There is nothing you can do.’

He had no command of the language to say what he needed to say to the Emperor, but he couldn’t go quietly.

‘I’ll challenge Li Tao for her,’ he said loud enough for the entire assembly to hear. ‘For her freedom.’

Ailey grabbed hold of his arm. Her touch was enough to reassure him. How did he ever think he could let her go?

‘I told you I don’t want you getting yourself killed for me,’ she said.

‘This is different.’

He couldn’t explain it to her, but it was different inside.

‘I accept the challenge,’ Li Tao replied calmly. ‘If that is the simplest way to resolve this, then I accept.’ He came down the steps and called for his sword. His dark gaze locked on to Ryam with disdain. ‘Let us put an end to this.’

Ryam removed himself from Ailey’s grasp and directed her away. He rubbed at the raw marks on his wrists from the chains.

‘I don’t have a weapon.’

‘Use mine, Swordsman.’

Emperor Shen held his sword high and tossed it towards Ryam. The blade arched through the air, landing at his feet. A pulse of energy filled him as he gripped it. Once again he had a sword in his hand. He bowed his head briefly in the Emperor’s direction, thanking him.

Ailey looked over the bruises and scrapes on his face. Her eyes danced with colour, reflecting frustration, hope and fear.

‘I love you,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘I’m going to win.’

The disrupted wedding party moved towards the rear of the compound with him and Li Tao at the lead. Ailey and her father trailed behind them, followed by the rest of the assembly.

He and Li Tao walked side by side, neither of them looking at the other. The warlord was nearly as tall as Ryam was, with broad, bone-crushing shoulders.

‘You have no right to her,’ Li Tao rumbled beside him as they neared the battleground.

‘You don’t own her,’ Ryam retorted.

He caught the way Li Tao’s knuckles tightened on his sword. In the short walk to the courtyard he picked up an array of signals about his opponent: the familiar way he held his sword, the steadiness of his gait. If he was worth anything as an opponent, Li Tao would be doing the same.

They took to opposite ends of the courtyard. Ryam swung the blade, testing its weight. Double-edged and straight with a dragon etched near the hilt. They called it the
jian
, the sword of gentlemen. Its light weight belied its deadliness. He had faced them, but never wielded one.

‘Everything you’ve got,’ Ryam murmured, keeping his line of sight on Li Tao as he bowed.

Li Tao’s eyes flashed cold like a viper before the strike. Ryam didn’t know if he understood, but he returned the bow.

In the stillness before the fight, he searched for Ailey. She stood beside her father, a scarlet beacon as a cool wind drew up from the depths of the canyon to stir the air around them. This was no drunken brawl. This was the one fight that mattered. She had chosen him once. He would have to convince her to choose him again.

In the next heartbeat, Li Tao rushed forwards. They engaged, swords crashing in a grip of lightning and thunder.

Li Tao took no quarter. His sword sang with deadly purpose. Ryam managed to slap it away with the flat of his blade only to have it flash back, stinging across his forearm. First blood, and not two seconds in.

No time to think about it. Li Tao was on him again. Ryam’s blade rang from the blows. He was using his weapon wrong and he could feel the dissonance in his arms.

Li Tao met his gaze without any satisfaction. ‘I am glad you returned so I can kill you.’

Ryam swung at him and Li Tao dodged easily. They locked blades crosswise.

Ryam tried to push free and drive back, but Li Tao answered with a slice across his shoulder. He felt the burn of it without ever seeing the blade. Before he could back away, Li Tao’s sword cut again. He jumped back, but not before taking a glance against his ribs.

He did his best to fend off Li Tao’s attacks, but the warlord drove him back relentlessly. Ryam found himself edged against the gorge, its wide mouth ready to devour him.

Li Tao raised his sword, the steel stained red with blood. Ryam’s blood. He was being carved up piece by piece. The man was better than him, at least with this sword. With a shout, Ryam charged. When Li Tao parried, Ryam twisted his blade free and continued forwards. Too close for blade work, he struck the hilt of his sword against Li Tao’s breastbone, forcing the breath from his lungs. Then he came in hard, striking at soft targets. He sent the heel of his hand into Li Tao’s throat and brought his knee up to strike his gut. Li Tao’s sword clattered to the floor. Instead of bending to retrieve it, he tackled Ryam and they toppled to the ground.

The back of Ryam’s head struck against stone, blotting his vision with spots of light. Li Tao was still gasping for breath from the blow to his chest, but he wasted no time. He balled his hand into a fist and drove it down against Ryam’s jaw. Ryam surged past his pain to reply with his own fist, striking out wildly until he connected against flesh and bone. Li Tao fell back and Ryam stumbled to his feet, grabbing on to his sword. He swiped his tongue over the salty, metallic tang of blood.

Li Tao had been a street fighter at some point in his life. Ryam would swear by it.

‘Pick up your sword,’ Ryam taunted. ‘Let us settle this like gentlemen.’

He waited while Li Tao stooped to retrieve his weapon. The last exchange had taken a lot of the venom out of Li Tao’s bite. The area over his eye swelled and he bled from the corner of his mouth. Wiping the blood away with the back of his hand, Li Tao glanced once at Ailey and then faced him with a look of determination so fierce Ryam knew at once it was more than male rivalry. Li Tao believed in his heart that he was defending Ailey’s honour and that she belonged to him.

Breathing hard, Ryam switched tactics. He held a precision weapon in his hands, not a strength one. Small efficient movements, he reminded himself. Keep to the centre, energy forwards.

Li Tao broke into a series of attacks, each advance chained effortlessly to the previous one. This time Ryam parried with a pure harmony of steel strike. He was finding the rhythm, sensing the intention through the blade to anticipate the angle of the next strike.

With a flick of his wrist, Ryam cut through Li Tao’s defences. The sword grazed the warlord’s midsection, the sharp edge tearing through fabric to draw blood.

Ryam had been in many fights in his life. Most opponents backed down after a wound, but Li Tao knew how to take a blow. He barely winced before resetting his guard to form a new attack. Ryam was going to have to kill this man or beat him into submission.

This time he let Li Tao come in close. Ryam watched the leading edge of the attack. The sword bit into his free arm as the gleaming steel sheared past him. Ignoring the burning pain, he followed the motion, waiting until the moment when the strike was most committed. Then he grabbed Li Tao’s arm and wrenched it opposite the joint, locking it. Ryam lashed out with his sword arm.

His blade stopped an inch from the warlord’s throat.

‘Surrender.’

Ryam knew from his dark glare that Li Tao would never do it.

Ryam’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t want to Ailey to see this, but it would be an insult to demand Li Tao’s surrender a second time. It would be an insult if Ryam let him go. But Li Tao hadn’t wronged him enough to murder the man. If he killed him, Li Tao would be the hero and he the scoundrel.

Emperor Shen stepped onto the fighting grounds. ‘A worthy battle. The foreigner has won.’

Li Tao showed no signs of relenting when Ryam let go of him.

‘Do not plead on my behalf, Shen,’ Li Tao spat.

‘The Emperor has no wish to lose a loyal ally.’

Ailey came up behind her father and said nothing as she looked between the two of them. Li Tao fixed his gaze on to her and his hands clenched. ‘I release you from your promise,’ he said finally. He switched his gaze to the Emperor. ‘And to you I promise nothing.’

He turned to stride back into the mansion without a proper dismissal. The household followed and his soldiers retreated to their posts, leaving the Emperor and his entourage in the courtyard. It was over.

Ailey rushed to him. ‘You are hurt.’

She pressed her silk handkerchief against his arm with trembling hands. It seemed like for ever since she was by his side, with nothing between them. If his chest swelled any more, it would burst.

‘You look good in red.’ He smiled.

He must look like a nightmare, bruised and bleeding while Ailey stood next to him smelling like springtime, her cool touch on his skin. She held his hand in both of hers, turning his palm over to inspect the cut on his knuckles.

‘Look at you! Getting yourself cut up like this,’ she scolded gently, eyes lowered.

‘I was bleeding for you and you were going to marry him anyway.’ He couldn’t help but be a bit disgruntled about how she’d hesitated, even after his victory. His
glorious
victory.