Butterfly Swords (8 page)

It had been too long since he’d enjoyed the soft touch of a woman. The moment he formed the excuse, he knew it wasn’t true. His regard for Ailey had nothing to do with hurried couplings in brothels, with coarse seduction in patches of wild grass. Ailey was young and confused. She didn’t know what she wanted—although she had made it abundantly clear she didn’t want him.

Daylight was slipping away fast beneath the canopy of the forest. They settled with their backs against the worn planks of the shed to listen to the river. He plucked a yam from the basket and bit into it, making a face.

‘Not bad,’ he mumbled around a mouthful of paste and leathery skin.

Ailey took one and nibbled at it. As always, she took everything in her stride, never complaining. It was one of the reasons it was too easy to forget she came from nobility.

‘You grew up in the capital?’ he asked.

‘My family home is in the northwest province, along the western frontier. We moved to Changan when my father was…’ She paused as if searching for the word. ‘When my father was promoted.’

The western frontier was close to where his men had stationed themselves. Perhaps that was how she developed her tolerance for foreigners, though it was unlikely she had ever seen the likes of him before.

‘Life in the capital does not suit me,’ she said.

‘Why not?’

‘Everything was different in our home in the mountains. We were free to do as we pleased, surrounded by people who were loyal and trustworthy. In Changan, no one can be trusted.’

They finished the yams in silence with the smell of the river and the earth surrounding them. She had tried to hide her upbringing from the beginning, but he was starting to form a picture of where she’d come from. Since the ascension of Emperor Shen to the throne, a renewed struggle had broken out among the
jiedushi
and their regional armies. Her father was probably one of those warlords or a close adviser to one.

The turmoil among the ruling class even reached far out into the frontier where his regiment operated. The trade routes had been disrupted and the flow of goods had become sporadic in the past year.

‘We have no alliance to anyone out in the Gansu corridor other than the Emperor,’ he assured her. ‘You don’t need to worry about me.’

She crossed her arms in front of her, as if cold. Her gaze wandered to the water and back. ‘They say the corridor has become a lawless place.’

‘There’s no law in Yumen Guan but the sword.’ He cast her a look. ‘In some ways not very different from here.’

She laughed. ‘You say it so strangely. It means Jade Gate.’

‘I know what it means.’ He made a face, which only made her laugh harder. The ease of the moment washed over him.

‘You must long to return. I have only been away from my family for a week and I miss them every day.’

Ailey’s home would be a glittering mansion in the imperial city, but the dusty frontier was as much a home as any he’d ever had. The pass was inhabited by outlaws and nomadic tribes. A band of displaced barbarians could almost fit in.

‘I suppose when you’ve been to so many lands, you don’t get as attached to any one place.’ All that mattered to him was Adrian and the legion. After fighting alongside one another for so long, his bond with them went beyond blood. Yet he’d never truly been one of them. He had spent too much time alone, grown too used to looking after himself to entrust his well-being to anyone else, even Adrian. Still, they were the closest thing he had to a home.

‘Yumen Guan is where they say the exiled princess has gone,’ Ailey was saying.

‘Miya? That one is a little dragon.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘You refer to the imperial princess by name? In our custom, that offence is punishable by—’

‘Death?’ he finished with a raised eyebrow. He wondered if there was such a thing as a minor offence in the Chinese empire. ‘She’s no longer a princess. Miya stepped down from the throne.’

‘To marry a barbarian,’ she said thoughtfully.

She looked like she wanted to ask more, but she bit back her words and stared out at the river. He had to remind himself that her family’s loyalties were with the current regime. No one knew who was friend or foe any more.

He had avoided returning for too long. It wasn’t punishment that he feared. He’d convinced himself that the men were better off with him gone. But Adrian had trusted him with a command. He deserved to know what had gone so terribly wrong.

So he had been making his way back slowly, dreading the outcome. He’d never expected to meet someone like Ailey. The only peace he’d known was when she was near…there was no way to describe it. She trusted him without question and he had no choice but to try to live up to her expectations. He didn’t realise how long he had been staring at her until she averted her eyes.

‘Earlier when I said…’ She hesitated, twisting her braid around a finger. ‘When I said that it could never be that way between us…’

He sat up in alarm. ‘I thought that was settled. Swordsmen, remember?’

‘I did not mean that I considered you inferior in any way…that you weren’t good enough.’

He rubbed at the back of his head, struck with the insane urge to take her in his arms and hush her with his mouth over hers. It was so much easier to seduce a woman than talk to her.

‘It’s getting late. You must be tired.’ He stopped her before she could go on with her apology and thrust the blanket into her hands. ‘Go on inside and get some rest.’

The blanket dangled from her hands. ‘Will you sleep out here?’

‘I’ll stay right outside by the door.’ He rapped the doorframe with his knuckles and leaned back to concentrate on the orange sliver of daylight lingering on the horizon. Anything not to conjure up the smooth skin he knew she kept hidden beneath the grey tunic.

Ailey stood, but paused at the entrance. ‘I must ask this one thing. Why were you attacked by imperial soldiers?’

Better that she knew the truth about him. Maybe then she’d stay just far enough away.

‘We were hired to guard a shipment into the empire,’ he said. ‘This was the first time I was put in command. Imperial soldiers stopped us on the road and discovered that we were transporting weapons. Swords from Parthia, what you call
Anxi
.’

Her breath caught. ‘Did you know what you were carrying?’

‘I should have known. I was in command. But we checked the cargo beforehand and saw nothing. We travelled south through several districts without any challenge at all. When the imperial soldiers stopped us on the road, I still thought there was nothing wrong.’

He had checked the goods when they were handed over by the Parthian traders. He should have checked again once they were loaded onto the wagons. Or again, before they crossed into the empire. He should have slept alongside those rugs and crates.

‘There must have been a traitor among you,’ she said. ‘Someone who was paid to do it.’

‘I don’t know. To this day, I’m not certain of how it happened.’

He rubbed a hand over his temples. His head throbbed as he recalled the battle, or at least the first few minutes of it. He had tried to negotiate, but his knowledge of the language was worthless. The tribesmen travelling with them tried to explain, but before he knew it, swords were drawn.

‘I drew my sword and fought for my life. We were foreign devils caught with illegal cargo. We could go peacefully and be hanged, or fight tooth and nail for our lives.’

‘And the men you were with?’

‘All dead.’

The words left him cold inside. It was the first time he had admitted it to himself. He had tried to refuse, knowing from the start he wasn’t the right person to take responsibility for the task.

‘I’m sorry. It was a mistake, as you said.’

Her sympathy didn’t make it any easier. He shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the doorframe. The silence went on for a long time.

‘I was afraid you had done something unforgivable,’ she said faintly.

He’d lost his entire command and endangered the very survival of their outfit. It made him wonder what in God’s name she considered unforgivable.

‘Then what would you have done?’ he asked.

‘I would have asked for your death.’

He had no doubt of it, with her sense of duty. Ailey was a warrior, heart and soul, and it had nothing to do with the swords she carried. She believed in the empire and its preservation above all else. He had never believed in anything so deeply, not even the oath of protection he had sworn years ago, in a place a thousand leagues from here.

‘You’re not good enough to beat me, Ailey.’

‘Honour is not about winning,’ she replied before retreating into the shed.

W
hen morning came, Ailey woke alone in the shed to the gentle lap of the water against the bank and the low rumble of Ryam’s breathing. He’d fallen asleep outside and had slumped across the doorway in a heap. She stifled a laugh when she saw him. He was going to be so sore.

A sound from outside caught her attention. The fisherman was gesturing to her from the river bend. The venerable old man had been so kind to them, that she went to him without a thought. She gathered her swords and stepped carefully over Ryam.

The huts were quiet and still around them. She had never known of these tiny settlements along the rivers.

‘Come help with these nets,’ the fisherman said.

The nets lay in a tangle by the water. She knelt beside the old man and reached for one edge to start working at the knots.

‘This girl must humbly thank you, Uncle. She will find a way to repay you for your kindness.’

He turned to her. He was close enough that she could trace the deep lines etched into his face. ‘I know who you are.’

Her pulse quickened. ‘Uncle, what do you mean?’

‘Princess Ai Li.’

He lowered his head. His hands clasped on to the rope, but she caught the tremor in them. The sword in her boot rested inches away. When he looked up, his eyes were wide with fear.

‘Go now!’ he hissed.

She grabbed her swords and twisted to her feet. Two men dressed in black broke from the line of the bamboo thicket and rushed at her. The red dragon insignia of Li Tao’s battalion showed clearly on their uniforms.

Instinct guided her feet forwards. She met their advance and caught the lead man before his sword was completely drawn. The butterfly sword bit into his elbow, slicing tendon and muscle. He staggered back, cursing.

Two arms wrapped around her. The second man had manoeuvred behind her. She wheezed as he tightened his grip. Her cry for help came out as a gasp.

A roar cut through the morning air. Ryam was upon them in a blur of motion. With one swing, he knocked the sword from the first soldier’s grasp and kicked him into the river. Water splashed onto the bank as the man thrashed about.

More soldiers sprang from the forest like wild boars. Three this time. Ryam turned to face them while Ailey struggled against her captor. Her arms were trapped and she couldn’t get any leverage to kick at him.

She dug in her heels as the soldier dragged her away. ‘Ryam!’

But he was unable to help. The other three were circling him. Ryam’s arms flexed as he raised his sword. His opponent tried to meet him strength for strength and failed. The broadsword cut through and sent the soldier to the ground.

The arms around her hoisted her up. Ailey threw her head back, hoping to connect with something. The arms squeezed tighter and shook her violently. She hated being so weak. All the training meant nothing as soon as some brute overpowered her.

Ryam had defeated another of the attackers. The darkly clad bodies collected on the ground at his feet. But it was the fisherman who came to her aid.

The old man came at her captor and struck at his head and shoulders with the bamboo fishing pole. The soldier swatted at the scrawny fisherman and Ailey tore free as his hold loosened on her.

‘She-demon!’

A hand grabbed at her arm and she stumbled. Then a shadow fell over her. Ryam. He wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her behind him, shielding her with his body. Without a word, Ryam advanced on the final soldier. The man didn’t have time to draw his weapon before the broadsword cut his legs out from under him. The soldier sprawled onto the ground, rolling in pain. There was a brutal efficiency in the western style.

Ryam whirled around. ‘Where were you? You can’t run off alone like that.’

She stared at him. His chest was heaving and his eyes blazed with anger. Only now did the fear hit her. Her heart was pounding and her hands started shaking so badly she had to sheathe the swords or else she’d drop them.

Li Tao had found her.

‘More will come.’ She stared at the mass of bamboo stalks as if the entire forest would come alive any moment.

‘Take the boat!’ The fisherman hurried to the shed.

Ryam ran beside her. He helped her in before stepping into the boat behind her. The vessel swayed beneath their weight as he grabbed the steering pole.

‘There is a great lady who lives down the river. She can help you.’ The old man’s shoulders strained as he stooped to push them away from shore. ‘Go safely.’

Ryam stabbed the pole into the water to steer them away. ‘I can hear them.’

She could as well. The bamboo stalks rustled with movement. There was no telling how many there were. Li Tao commanded an army of thousands. He could scour every inch of these woods. Ryam frowned with concentration. The muscles in his arms tensed as he pushed hard against the river bottom. They began to pick up speed.

The fisherman stood by the bank to watch their departure. She was reminded of Old Wu standing beside the abandoned palanquin, and prayed that she hadn’t brought Li Tao’s wrath into this simple fishing village.

‘Get down,’ Ryam commanded.

She ducked low. Shouting broke out back at the river bend, but the huts had grown small in the distance, swallowed by the surrounding forest as the boat glided towards open water. Ryam found his balance and pushed off steadily into the swift current. A sheen of sweat covered his brow.

He hadn’t said more than two words to her. Had he worked out who she was? Would he stay with her if he knew she had lied to him?

‘I woke up and you were gone.’ His hands gripped the wooden pole until his knuckles grew white. ‘What were you thinking?’

The sun overhead cast his face in shadow, hiding his expression, but she could see how his jaw set into a hard line as he stood over her.

‘You were still sleeping. The old boatman asked for my help.’ Her explanation sounded weak to her own ears.

‘You can’t be so careless.’

Heat rose up the back of her neck. He had no right to reprimand her. ‘I didn’t see any danger.’

‘You asked for my protection.’ He stabbed the pole into the water again. ‘As if I need someone else to look after.’

They fell silent after that. The buzz of the dragonflies droned in the emptiness while she listened to the lap of the river against the wooden hull. The boat caught the current and sliced through the water. She said nothing while Ryam lowered himself to sitting position, casting the pole aside in agitation. It landed with a thud.

He stared into the river, too angry to look at her. ‘Not everyone lives by the same code of honour you do.’

Tension knotted his shoulders. Still she said nothing. Anger upon anger would not resolve anything. It was then that she noticed the scrapes over his knuckles. A bruise ran along his cheek and his blond hair was tossed haplessly. The sun caught the golden threads in it.

‘You were truly concerned for me,’ she murmured.

She had never seen him show any fear at all, yet he had been afraid for her. He had rushed into danger without a thought for himself. Perhaps it was not only for honour—she didn’t dare to hope. Could he actually care for her as something more than a burden?

‘That head wound you suffered nearly killed you, didn’t it?’

He shifted his gaze away from her, but there was nowhere to hide. They were in the middle of open water, the current carrying them fast downstream as the river widened. She inched closer and touched her fingertips to the back of his hand. ‘What happened?’

Finally he met her eyes. His look sent an odd heat through her.

‘I don’t remember anything after I was struck,’ he muttered.

‘You’re fortunate to be alive.’

‘The men under my command were not so fortunate.’

Boldly, she took hold of his hands. They were so much larger than hers. Broad and scored by a field of scars. Marks of living by the sword. He dropped his hands against his knees, his back stiff and straight as he regarded her.

He was not so very different from Father or her brothers, though he had journeyed from his faraway land across the silk roads. Grandfather had travelled the same desert routes before his service to the August Emperor. Her family still guarded the border near the western frontier.

‘I come from a line of swordsmen,’ she said. ‘From soldiers and generals. I know what happens when a warrior loses a battle for the first time.’

‘This wasn’t a battle, Ailey. It was a senseless brawl. And stop looking at me like that.’

She frowned, confused. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I don’t need you to understand. I need—I just need to get you home.’

His eyes deepened to a clouded grey as they reflected the churn of the river. For a moment she could barely breathe, enthralled by his nearness and the sway of the boat beneath them.

She struggled to find the right words. ‘When a man learns that he is not invincible for the first time, it shakes the ground on which he stands.’

‘How many battles have you fought?’ he asked with a snort.

‘This is something my father tells me.’

‘Well, I’ve lost plenty of fights in my lifetime.’

‘None that truly mattered until this one.’

He laughed at that, as if she were joking. Maybe it was absurd, giving advice to a seasoned warrior when her experience extended no further than the practice yard.

‘You cannot doubt yourself because of one mistake,’ she went on stubbornly. ‘I would trust you to the ends of the earth.’

His laughter died and he let out a sigh that seemed to shake his entire being. He reached up and brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth, his touch as light as a leaf on water.

‘No wonder Li Tao is willing to move mountains to get you back.’

The sound of the name made her flinch. Li Tao knew nothing about her, cared nothing for her. Their marriage had been arranged to reinforce an alliance. The warlord would never listen to her as Ryam did. No one had ever paid such careful attention to her.

Closing her eyes, she broke away. Whatever was forming between them, it could not endure. Her father had promised her to the traitor Li Tao. If she wasn’t considered ruined for marriage, her father would promise her to someone else.

Her father was Emperor. Their lives were not their own. What one wanted and what one needed to do were seldom the same. That was duty. That was sacrifice.

When she opened her eyes, Ryam had shifted further from her. His elbow rested against the edge of the boat and his hand dangled near the water. He looked to the shore, watchful of any movement.

‘We won’t be able to stay on the river long,’ he said after another stretch. ‘They’ll follow it and find us.’

A thought came to her. ‘The weapons shipment you were guarding—where was it destined?’

Ryam frowned. ‘Chengdu. Why?’

‘The shipment could have been going to Li Tao,’ she said, rising excitedly.

‘Get down. You’re going to fall over.’

The connection was so clear. A clandestine weapons shipment amidst rumours that Li Tao was building an army in secret. It was exactly as Wu had warned her. She had been right to escape when she did.

‘The Emperor has taken control of the forges and armouries in order to control the
jiedushi
,’ she explained. ‘If Li Tao needed weapons, he would need to smuggle them from outside the empire.’

‘All the way from Parthia through Yumen Guan?’

‘He needed to keep it secret,’ she insisted. ‘And he may have had help from someone at the fortress.’

‘It’s possible.’ He frowned, considering it. ‘Between us and the tribesmen, we try to stay away from the affairs of the empire.’

‘But Princess Miya is there. They still speak of her in Changan. When she was in the palace, she could get anyone to do her bidding.’

‘How do you know so much about her anyway?’

‘Everyone knows of her.’ She fell silent then, praying she hadn’t revealed too much.

‘You’re wrong about the princess,’ he said. ‘We risked our lives to rescue her from the palace. It was her choice to abdicate the throne. She doesn’t want to be involved with the empire. Not with something like this.’

In the previous reign, the Emperor had been considered godlike, the Son of Heaven. The people seemed content to accept his rule. The borders were protected by powerful warlords and the merchants grew fat and decadent.

Her father’s succession had been brought about through war and rebellion. His detractors claimed that a barbarian had taken the throne, a man of common birth and mixed blood. Heaven had turned its back on the Middle Kingdom in disgust, and responded with famine and disorder.

Perhaps it was true that Emperors had to be born. Father had never dreamed of ruling. He had only accepted the duty out of honour. Secretly, Ailey wished there was a way that all of this could be undone and their family could return to what they once were. Fourth Brother wouldn’t be dead. Father and Mother wouldn’t be desperate to negotiate alliances with powerful warlords.

Ryam stood to steer them around an outcropping of rock. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and the muscles in his arms pulled taut against the drag of the water. Once again, he had saved her life.

She had to remember that he was still a stranger, inextricably linked to the power struggles that were tearing apart the empire she loved. She could never completely trust him. It seemed she couldn’t trust anyone, any more.

He had warned her that not everyone lived by the same code of honour she did. She knew it too well. When it came to power and the people who wielded it, loyalties became twisted and honour washed away like sand.

By the middle of the next day, they abandoned the boat and pushed it down the river. They continued on foot along the opposite bank to put a barrier between them and their pursuers. Ailey jumped every time the breeze stirred through the trees or a twig snapped in the distance.

‘Stay calm,’ Ryam said.

He steadied a hand against her back and his touch nearly made her jump again. Ever since she’d made him swear, he’d kept a noticeable distance between them. She almost hated how careful he was with her now.