Butterfly Swords (9 page)

‘We need to get closer to Changan, into lands under imperial jurisdiction,’ she said. Everything they spoke to each other was in lowered tones, as if Li Tao’s men were hiding behind every tree.

‘Once we reach the city, I need to figure out a way to get you to your family and then get out of there.’

She reached for her braid, twisting it in her fingers. ‘I could take you to my father. He can help you.’

‘You know we can’t. Your father will either kill me with his own hands or hand me over to the soldiers he obviously commands.’

His tone grew harsh and she fell silent. They both knew there was no way to explain her being alone with him. It was unthinkable that Ryam could rescue her so valiantly, yet still be chased down as an outlaw.

‘I don’t know what to tell him myself,’ she said. ‘To break a wedding arrangement like this is unspeakable.’

‘And the sight of a white demon like me would only make matters worse.’

‘You’re not a demon,’ she denied fiercely.

He regarded her with surprise and her skin grew hot under his scrutiny. She looked away, but the sight of his blue eyes stayed with her. It was impossible. Even if he weren’t a foreigner. Even if he were a swordsman of Han descent, her father wouldn’t allow it.

They were in danger with every breath, yet part of her never wanted to reach the capital. She would have to face her family in Changan. She would have to tell them what she’d learned about her brother’s death and open old wounds all over again.

She glanced over at Ryam and wished he would look at her again the way he had by the pond—as if she was the most enchanting thing he’d seen in all his journeys. For a moment in his arms, her worries had vanished. The palace and all of its lies didn’t exist.

‘What is that?’ Ryam asked.

A patch of red broke through the endless green of the forest. He slowed his step and Ailey crowded closer to him as she peered through the trees.

‘A house,’ she said.

Not at all like the thatched huts of the fishing village. The winged rooftop of a mansion rose over the trees, breaking the natural landscape. The wooden columns along the bay were painted bright red for good fortune. A peach orchard grew behind the building, the blossoms clinging like snow among the branches. This magnificent residence, complete with intricate latticework and gilded rafters, belonged in Changan or Luoyang, not in the middle of the woods by the muddy banks of the river.

A gardener saw them first. He left the flowering trees to hurry inside. The lady of the house emerged in an embroidered robe that, like the mansion, reflected opulence worthy of the imperial court.

The boatman had spoken of a great lady. Ailey’s breath caught as she recognised the mysterious woman. It was Ling Suyin, former consort to the August Emperor. A legendary beauty. The woman breezed into the garden, surrounded on either side by her servants, and stood waiting by the orchard, draped in silk and elegance.

The legends were true.

‘We should move on,’ she urged.

But Ryam didn’t appear to have heard her. His gaze was fixed upon the vision among the peach blossoms. ‘Lady Ling?’

Ailey could only stare in surprise. Before she could stop him, Ryam headed towards the house. It would have been pointless to warn him about the tales of men being seduced by the mere sight of Lady Ling. He was already caught. Ailey wanted to hit him. Hard.

The lady followed the path to the river’s edge; her dress floated with her as she walked, shimmering like pearl. She appeared youthful, her skin flawless. They said the August Emperor had been twenty years older than her when he was enthralled by her.

For a moment, Ailey was stricken with a sense of fleeting glory. Who would ever see such beauty in these woods? Yet the imperial consort still dressed as if the deceased Emperor would come to her.

Ryam didn’t look back once as he climbed the path to the house. Ailey had to run to catch up with his long stride.

‘Lady Ling, I would know you anywhere,’ he greeted.

Her perfectly painted lips curved into a smile. ‘Ryam, is it? The wayward swordsman. You are far from Yumen Guan.’

A wonder she could even move in all that silk. Ailey blew at the strands of hair that strayed over her face, feeling like a street urchin in her drab clothing. She set her feet on the bank and refused to go any further. Ryam must have said something amusing because the courtesan’s laughter rang out like a bell. The dainty sound made Ailey’s skin crawl.

He had been to the imperial court and knew people in the highest ranks of power. She had to rethink her initial thoughts of him as a harmless outlander.

It was Ling who finally took notice of her by the shore.

‘Who is your companion?’ she asked.

‘This is Ailey.’

So he hadn’t forgotten her name. She gave a short bow out of politeness. ‘This humble girl is honoured to meet such an exalted lady.’

Ryam raised an eyebrow at the crispness of her voice. ‘We are headed to Changan to return Ailey to her family,’ he explained.

‘Changan?’

Ailey wanted to jab him for his carelessness. Ling’s eyes flashed with catlike interest as they surveyed her from head to toe. She tried to assure herself that the courtesan wouldn’t recognise her. She had lived far away from the imperial city during the reign of the August Emperor. Still, the association was too close for her to let down her guard.

Lady Ling spoke in the most formal of dialects. ‘You must accept my offer of hospitality.’

‘We would not dare to trouble the lady,’ Ailey responded in kind.

‘There is no need for such politeness. Are we not friends here?’

No, they were not friends in the least. Ailey’s instincts told her to decline immediately and return to the forest. Ling Suyin had ruled over the inner palace during the most treacherous years of the court. This woman was no delicate orchid.

Lady Ling extended a hand onto Ryam’s arm and Ailey glared at her manicured nails as if they were talons. She measured the seconds until the woman took her hand away.

‘How could I refuse such a gracious offer?’ Ryam said with an uncustomary show of manners.

He moved away from the dock, walking beside Lady Ling as they ascended the path to the orchard. Ailey dug her nails into her palms and had no choice but to follow them. The smile on his face was too wide and the way Ling tilted her head towards him made Ailey itch for her butterfly swords.

‘We cannot stay long,’ she cut in. Had he forgotten they were being tracked?

They glanced back, moving as one. She wanted to tell Ryam he looked like a fool standing beside such a refined lady, but it wasn’t true. He appeared tall and rugged and gallant as if Lady Ling had bestowed her grace on to everything around her. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards, bemused by her ire. She scowled at him, eyes narrowed, not caring what the lady read into it.

Ling’s pleasant smile never wavered. ‘For the night at least,’ she said. ‘It has been so long since I’ve heard news from beyond this river.’

She stepped aside to let Ailey join them. Ling’s gaze again flickered over her as she passed.

Ryam continued to stare at the imperial consort as if he were seeing the moon for the first time. He could defeat a gang of bandits easier than blinking, but put a beautiful woman in front of him and he was helpless.

A
iley settled into a private room overlooking the orchard. Within minutes, the servants rolled a wooden tub into the outer chamber and poured buckets of heated water into it until thick steam rose to dampen the air. It seemed that Ling still lived as if she was a favoured concubine in the palace, but Ailey couldn’t complain with the promise of a hot bath before her.

Once she was alone, she stripped off her tunic and leggings, folding them carefully. A surge of heat rushed to her breasts as she loosened the bindings. The memory of Ryam’s hands tugging at the cloth assailed her. His palms had been rough, but his touch gentle.

She’d made him swear not to touch her, but now she could think of nothing but the hundred secret things he made her feel with his mouth and his hands, all in a few brief moments.

She curved her hands around her breasts to relieve the ache as she slipped into the tub. The bathwater flowed around her, the warmth seeping into her skin. She laid her head back against the wooden edge and willed her limbs to relax. Even with her eyes closed, all she could see was Ryam standing next to Lady Ling, his face bright with laughter. She had been so easy to overlook, as she had always been. Little Ai Li, sixth child, a daughter among precious sons.

She grabbed the cake of crushed soapbean and scrubbed it over her skin, washing away the dust and grime from the days on the road. A faint jasmine perfume rose from the water, but did nothing to calm her.

No man had ever looked at her the way Ryam had, but would he feel the same about any pretty face? Was that the way of men? She wanted to sink beneath the water. All the women Ryam must have known. Across the span of the Silk Road. Worldly, beautiful women like Lady Ling. Women who wouldn’t shrink away from his kisses.

She stood from the bath, ignoring the slosh of water over the side. Cool air tingled across her skin and she dried herself with a linen cloth. On the bed the servants had laid out several garments. The first was a sheer, long-sleeved robe the colour of rose petals, as fine as the garments she wore in the palace. With a swipe of her arm, she pushed the silk aside and chose the tunic and trousers, slate grey and unadorned. She folded the formless tunic across her front and tied the sash about her waist. Her hair went back into its simple braid.

When she opened the door Ryam was already there, hand raised to knock. For a moment she could do nothing but stare. Her gaze skimmed over the clean, strong lines of his face, no longer covered by the rough stubble of a beard.

She let out a breath. ‘You look so strange.’

He laughed at that. ‘Less like a lion?’

She wanted to run her hands over the smooth skin in disbelief. He appeared so much younger. His mouth took on a teasing, sensuous quality. How would it feel if he were to kiss her now? She found herself wishing that she hadn’t demanded such honour from him.

‘You look charming as always,’ he said through the rushing sound in her ears.

It was like looking at a stranger. Like meeting him once again. She had been holding her breath and she let it out in a rush, fiddling with the neck of her tunic. Her thoughts strayed to the delicate, feminine robe the servants had laid out for her and she berated herself for making such a poor choice. Ryam’s blue eyes sparked as he watched her.

‘Suyin has invited us to have dinner with her,’ he said.

So now it was Suyin instead of Lady Ling.

‘I don’t trust her.’

He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘Our paths have crossed before. She’s a friend.’

‘How does a barbarian befriend an imperial concubine? They are locked away in the inner palace. No man is allowed to speak to them unless he is a eunuch.’

She glanced down, then back up. Ryam’s lips pressed together, forcing back a smile.

‘An interesting story, but a long one,’ he deflected. ‘Lady Ling may be able to help us.’

‘We have no need of her help.’

She didn’t like this woman with her knowing looks and her elegant air of superiority. And Ryam seemed to think so highly of her.

‘Changan is several days’ journey from here and she may still have influence there.’

Her dislike increased tenfold. ‘You’re different around her.’

‘Different? How?’ He leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the entire passage.

‘You puff your chest out like a—’ She struggled to find something suitably insulting. ‘Like a rooster.’

He only seemed to enjoy it more. ‘A rooster,’ he echoed, grinning wide.

She would have hit him if it didn’t seem so childish. ‘You go on without me. I’m very tired.’

He stopped the door as she moved to close it. ‘Come on. I’m hungry and so are you.’

He ushered her out of the room with a hand at her back. She dragged her feet in protest as he nudged her forwards. He could be just as insufferable as her brothers.

A set of wooden steps led into the main atrium of the house. The servants led them through a side door on to a veranda facing the river. A low table had been set in the open air. Orb lanterns swung from the rafters, the muted candlelight glowing through the waxed paper. Lady Ling stood at the far side, her back to them as she gazed upon the river. If Ailey wasn’t in hiding, she might have appreciated the hospitality.

Ailey grabbed Ryam’s arm before he stepped forwards. ‘Don’t tell her about Li Tao. He could have informants everywhere.’

He nodded without argument, and she was reassured that he still had some sense about him. The lady continued to face the water as they approached. Dusk transformed the swirling water to inky blackness. The breeze caught the edge of her robe and whipped the layers about her. She resembled the brush paintings of immortal beauties that hung from bamboo scrolls.

Their footsteps on the boards must have signalled their approach. Lady Ling started speaking without turning to face them. ‘The August Emperor had this mansion built before his death. I have no need of such splendour, but it pleased the Emperor to do so.’ Placing her hands on the wooden rail, she leaned forwards, and inhaled as if breathing in the fading sunlight and the breeze. ‘I grew up along this river.’

Ailey detected a hint of longing in the lady’s voice.

She turned to them. ‘I thought we would enjoy the evening outdoors. And I can become acquainted with your lovely companion.’

‘She is not—’

‘We are not—’

They both started to protest. Lady Ling cast them a pointed look before beckoning them to sit.

The servants flowed around them as they moved to take their places at the low table. Ling knelt on the pillows, arranging her robe around her while Ryam took much longer trying to fold his long legs beside the table. Uncertain of where to go, Ailey took her place at the corner beside him. Social etiquette had no provision for dining with a man who wasn’t your husband and a former concubine while hiding your true status.

Ling turned her attention to Ailey. ‘So your family lives in Changan?’

‘Yes, my father is a tea merchant.’ She glanced over at Ryam, who stayed silent.

‘I was not aware there were tea plantations in that area.’

The consort’s tone remained pleasant, but Ailey had the impression she was being prodded for the lady’s amusement. An object of curiosity. Ailey kept silent, using decorum to her advantage, as the servants poured the wine and brought out the first dishes of the evening meal. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ryam slide the cup of wine away with a finger.

‘Our business is nothing to boast about. There is nothing to interest the lady,’ Ailey said.

‘Oh, nonsense. Every little detail interests me.’ Ling folded her hands in front of her expectantly.

The gap of silence that followed was nothing if not purposeful. Father had warned of the slippery ways of the court long before they moved to the capital. Every word has two meanings, he would say. Other than Mother, their family had no way with words. They were people of action. Navigating the political landscape left them flat-footed on lower ground.

‘This insignificant girl is curious as to how the Emperor’s consort befriended a foreigner,’ Ailey replied.

Ryam cut in. ‘I visited the palace once.’

‘He was quite the diplomat.’

‘Lady Ling—’

His warning tone was unmistakable, but the lady continued, amused by his discomfort.

‘So humble. Your swordsman is a hero,’ Ling said. ‘I am surprised you do not know of it.’

Ailey didn’t understand why, but the woman was taunting her. She found herself inching closer to Ryam for reassurance.

‘After the death of the August Emperor, there was a palace rebellion.’

‘I’ve heard of this story,’ Ailey replied coolly. ‘But my family was not in Changan at the time.’

Ryam cleared his throat and grabbed a set of ivory chopsticks, positioning them between his fingers. ‘See? I know how to use these now.’

‘The barbarian legion marched on Changan to rescue our princess,’ Ling continued.

‘Shen An Lu was the one that rescued the princess.’

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Lady Ling smiled at her. ‘
Emperor
Shen,’ she corrected.

Ailey could feel her face growing hot. No one spoke the Emperor’s given name out loud.

‘Of course, not everyone considers saving the princess an act of heroism,’ Ling said to Ryam. ‘In Changan they call her “the Pretender”, while many in the empire consider her the rightful heir.’

Ailey tapped her chopsticks gently against the tabletop to straighten them, using the gesture to gain some pause for reflection. She wanted to simply demand of Lady Ling where her loyalties lay. It was too confusing, this twisted knot of allies and enemies.

‘This looks good,’ Ryam interrupted, poking at a plate of pickled radishes and quail eggs. ‘Eat before it gets cold.’

‘It’s already cold,’ Ailey replied.

Ling hid her laughter behind her wine cup. Ryam squeezed Ailey’s hand in warning beneath the table, but she shook free of his hold. The gesture was too personal and she was certain Ling caught a hint of it.

‘I no longer follow the politics of Changan,’ Ling said dismissively. ‘Instead, I spend my days here, free from the cares of the world.’

The courtesan knew intimate details about the imperial capital. Ailey couldn’t risk slipping and revealing something dangerous. And she certainly couldn’t risk Lady Ling detaining them until Li Tao arrived.

She set her chopsticks down. ‘This girl must apologise. She is too tired from her travels to be good company.’

‘I will send a tray to your room then. You must keep up your strength, for it is a long way from home.’

Lady Ling looked at her so intently that she feared the woman did recognise her. But it was impossible. The consort could not have had more than a glimpse of her in the imperial palace, perhaps on one of her father’s visits to the August Emperor. She would have been an insignificant child at the time.

She bowed. ‘The lady is very kind.’

When she stood to go, Ryam rose to accompany her, only to be summoned.

‘Let her rest,’ Ling chided. ‘We have much to talk about. I have not seen a familiar face in a long time.’

He gave the lady a brief excuse and rose to walk part of the way with her into the house.

‘Ailey, what’s wrong?’

The brush of his fingers against her wrist sent a shiver up her arm. He had a way of angling himself towards her, shielding her with his broad frame whenever he stood close, as if he would never let anything touch her. Even his use of her name, spoken with that odd accent of his, beckoned to some corner deep within her heart.

She wanted to demand that they leave this place and this woman with all of her questions. They should return to the river where there was no one but the two of them, but Ailey had no claim to him.

‘Stay,’ she said, backing away. ‘You two seem to have much to talk about.’

‘I won’t be long.’

It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. He left her without another word. When she looked back, he was seated beside Lady Ling, one elbow propped on the table. They were absorbed in conversation. The sound of their laughter echoed in her ears as she retreated into the house.

‘She is very beautiful.’ Ling watched him through her lashes as she sipped her wine. ‘I can see that you are in trouble.’

In lieu of answering, he plucked a dumpling from a plate and stuffed it into his mouth. The servants brought out more plates to set in front of them, roasted duck and sesame greens and more delicacies he didn’t have words for.

‘How long have you known her?’

He concentrated on handling the chopsticks. ‘If you keep on asking questions, I’ll think you’re jealous.’

She laughed. ‘Anyone can see you’re already taken with her.’

He remembered how the consort would take hold of a conversation and twist it off centre to keep the advantage. It was just her way.

‘I’m taken with all women.’

‘She is quite spirited. I would have guessed a woman like that would catch your interest.’

Either the former courtesan was probing for information because it might be useful to her, or she was simply starved for intrigue out here in the woods.

‘You sound like an old matchmaker, my lady,’ he said around a mouthful of rice. ‘All I want is to get her home.’

‘Very noble of you.’

He laid his chopsticks across the bowl. ‘What is it you’re prying at?’

‘She is no merchant’s daughter—you must know that already. It is apparent in her manners, how she speaks, how high she holds her head.’

He exhaled slowly. Despite all of Ling’s plays for power, he trusted her judgement. She had a talent for gauging people and he was going to have to confide in her for what he wanted to do. ‘Her father is an official in Changan.’

She nodded as if expecting it. ‘There are a number of minor officials by the name of Chang.’

‘Lady Ling, swear to me you are not involved with anything. Any schemes against the throne.’

‘Of course not.’ She tapped her fingers against the table in agitation. ‘I spoke truthfully when I said I no longer cared for politics.’