Five Kingdoms (31 page)

He and Jiao Ren entered the conference room alongside others. Stools occupied much of the floor area. Along the wall were shorter banners displaying various emblems of rank and of the Empire, as well as scrolls upon which had been written significant verses from heroes and scholars of the past, who had known much success during their careers or who were famous for their deeds. Weapons racks were lined along each wall, but the north, which was the direction of command and the head of the chamber. Amid the racks was the occasional urn filled with rolled maps. Shelving beside them offered manuals of war. A table at the head of the room rested beneath a mural of a scene of battle from the first, and most ancient, era of the Celestial Calendar, something that had only been brought back into use in the last century. Under the new Celestial Calendar Sheng Fan was currently in a summer cycle, a season overseen by Cheng Yu. Xu Liang did not believe it was a coincidence that they were also entering an era of war.

There had been many factors that ultimately led to his quest for the swords. Among them had been the forewarning of an oracle visited by Song Bao himself, who had expressed deep concern for a series of important deaths that would occur at the ebbing of spring and with the first wave of summer. Eras of change were often marked by three fates. As it turned out, two leaders were lost at the end of the recent spring cycle of the Celestial Calendar and one at the start of the summer cycle: Song Bao, Song Lu, and Ha Sheng. Huang Shang-san had already been in support of the expedition. After those events, he urged strenuously in favor of the search for the Swords.

The Swords were in Sheng Fan now. What roles would they take in what was to come? Xu Liang feared the debate would be ongoing if he did not learn quickly what their specific use might be.

The officers present gathered at the north wall. Yuo Shang stood before the table, a man of proud stance. His gray hair was gathered high, his hairline framing a face that was weathered and stoic. He, Xu Liang, and Jiao Ren greeted one another with respect. As well, the Cavalier General, Tian Qin, was present and joined the formal exchange. The general responsible for the offense maneuvers of the Empress’ army was a man nearer to Xu Liang’s age with features comparable to an eagle. His hair was held in a high, cropped tail that provided the illusion of a crest at a glance. His brow line peaked in such a way that his expression constantly appeared sharp and that he himself always appeared alert and prepared to take action. Conversely, his tone of voice tended even and considered. His fame as a leader of men on the battlefield was pronounced. It was not Xu Liang’s intention to request his leadership at Fa Leng—what should have been a simpler process in its beginnings—but if Wen Xiu was struggling, then it must have been far worse even than it was when Xu Liang had last received a report.

“Imperial Tactician,” Yuo Shang began. “We’re here on the topic of Fa Leng, as you know.”

Xu Liang nodded. “I’m aware that our troops are struggling. And I have my orders to join them. I will devise a successful strategy before my departure from the Imperial City. I will request that Tian Qi head the reinforcements, so that our victory may be swift and efficient.”

Tian Qi bowed in reply to the informal assignment, making it known that he had no qualms with such a plan.

“I agree that General Tian Qi is a wise choice,” Yuo Shang said. “I will make my recommendations of further unit leaders.”

Xu Liang accepted that without argument. Of the other officers present during this meeting, there was not one he would hesitate to send into battle. He would rely on the Supreme General’s assessments of their various strengths, that they might be effectively placed in his strategy.

“And what of Xun’s governor?” Tian Qi presented. “I feel that he will not take defeat quietly.”

Yuo Shang summarized his opinion. “He’s an obstinate child.”

“It will not be a simple task defeating him,” Xu Liang let them know. “Though obstinate, he is intelligent.”

“I am among those who believe that there are none who surpass you in intellect, Imperial Tactician,” said Tian Qi.

Xu Liang bowed his head humbly. He would not underestimate Ha Ming-jin. “Once Fa Leng is defended, I will suggest the Empress send an envoy to discuss his grievances and to remind him of his obligations to the Empire.”

“Such tactics didn’t work with Ha Sheng,” Yuo Shang reminded. “And he was far easier to reason with than his spoiled son.”

“Be that as it may, we will use policy over soldiers,” Xu Liang said. “We must avoid war, if we are able. I fear there is a greater underlying threat.”

Yuo Shang’s features tightened. He surveyed the others in the room before his gaze settled on those standing nearest him.

Xu Liang steeled himself internally.

The Supreme General took a step forward, toward Xu Liang and managed only the merest of nods before speaking. “With all the respect owed to your office, your talent, and your deeds, Imperial Tactician, I fear I must state what’s been on my mind concerning your beast of the ages.”

Xu Liang offered no retreat in the face of such challenge. He remained in place, and held his face level. He said calmly, “In one way or another, the Dragon Chaos has manifested on the plane of men. Emperor Song Bao foresaw the possibility of it. The fates of Song Bao, Song Lu, and of Ha Sheng—whose son currently contributes to internal discord—have not gone unnoticed, or ignored.”

“I am not a man of omens and luck,” Yuo Shang said. “The skirmishes among the kingdoms is about greed and ambition. Rebellion should be swiftly quashed and each of the governors relieved of their positions and responsibilities.”

Murmurs of agreement stirred among the others. A glance about the room showed Xu Liang that some were not committed to this way of thinking.

“I am not fond of the Five Kingdoms Resolution myself,” Xu Liang reminded. “But we must be able to tell a swift stroke from a hasty grip. Revoking title and privilege would sooner provoke officers who are already malcontent. Each of the governors are men with support within their own kingdoms, and elsewhere. A response that is too aggressive would leave us with enemies on all sides.”

“If revocation is done, then it must be systematic,” someone suggested.

Xu Liang glanced over his shoulder in the man’s direction, but said to Yuo Shang, “Revocation is not the Empress’ priority.”

“Nor are the artifacts you carried back to the Empire,” the Supreme General pointed out. “And in the hands of barbarians!”

When the elder’s voice raised, both Jiao Ren and Tian Qi tensed.

Since Xu Liang was not known for physical retaliation for words spoken against him, he assumed that it was on his behalf that the Fortress and Cavalier Generals prepared to take action. It was not difficult to see that Yuo Shang was offended by this topic, but it was clear now that he had done a fair amount of speaking out on the matter lately, if not through the duration of Xu Liang’s absence from the court.

Xu Liang noted that the level of the elder’s offense was potentially to violence, and ensured with his tone that it would not be tolerated. “It is on behalf of the Empress, and by the command of the Empress that the Swords were located and returned.”

“They have already desecrated the land of our ancestors,” Yuo Shang argued, insistent on making the argument about the bearers, over the Blades themselves. “We cannot trust them to wield a weapon on behalf of an empress they don’t obey and gods they don’t know!”

“They
do
know them!” Xu Liang enforced, recalling too clearly the conversations he had heard and overheard regarding the various faiths of his companions from the west. And knowing too well the presence of one of their gods. “My experience with them is evidence that everyone in this world knows—and is known—by the same gods.”

“Preposterous!” Yuo Shang declared. While he bristled further, Tian Qi put an arm in front of him.

Xu Liang continued. “That the Swords traveled so far from Sheng Fan tells us that we are not meant to face this threat alone, and that this threat is not against Sheng Fan exclusively.”

“If we were to believe that,” came the voice of Han Quan, “then would we find ourselves next defending foreign lands? Fighting for the benefit of barbarian leaders?”

Xu Liang looked over his shoulder at the Chancellor. “Perhaps,” he began to say, and knew immediately that such a suggestion would be taken as revolutionary and blasphemous. It would have been taken wrongly. For that reason, he expounded. “Perhaps we will find that there is a danger that threatens all of the lands of Dryth equally, and that such a threat will demand that each nation work equally to defeat it.”

From the entrance of the conference hall, the Chancellor bowed. Afterward, he said, “A dragon that magnificent in scale could only be Chaos. It may be time to concede that many scholars have spent far too much time on such a legend. To consider it this far is neither logical nor beneficial, therefore the study is a luxury…a frivolity, one could say.”

Xu Liang found himself too weary to tolerate his elder’s method of challenge. He was beginning to think it was fear speaking, over wisdom. Just as the Supreme General’s near physical response to the subject was inspired by fear—fear of what existed outside of the sphere of Sheng Fan. The sphere of Sheng Fan was only one body in the Jade Emperor’s eternal realm. If there could be only one lesson taken from his travels, it would be that. In truth, there were too many to count. All he could do was present his findings and his theories to the Empress. She would decide the course of action, and they could only abide by her decree. If Xu Liang’s actions had been premature, the Heavens would know and by the Mandate, so would the Empress. He would carry on until she commanded he do otherwise.

“The existence of the Celestial Swords supports the existence of Chaos,” Xu Liang said, to all of the men present. “We will devote both time and effort to quelling it, in whatever form it has taken. It is for the safety and the glory of Sheng Fan that I will continue to advise the Empress to support her dynasty and revere her ancestors, by continuing what was initiated by one of the Song’s most beloved members…an endeavor which began on behalf of the people and for the preservation of the land.”

Jiao Ren was the first to offer his support, bowing low. Tian Qi followed soon afterward. Gradually, all of the officers present were showing at least their deference to his station, if not loyalty to the Song. He suspected that some were better inspired by the purging of officers found guilty of betrayal soon after the ascension of Song Da-Xiao. It disheartened him that opposition might have grown to flourishing once again. But perhaps it had never been cut far enough back to begin with.

Tristus did not
realize he had fallen asleep until a noise awakened him. He lifted himself up quickly off of a hard floor and too few pillows, then rolled over in the darkness in a vain attempt to recognize his surroundings. He’d been dreaming of the bunk that constantly felt as if it was moving beneath him aboard the
Pride of Celestia
. Though the ship was long behind them, he still found himself surprised to wake up on something so stable and for a moment he genuinely had no idea where he was. Before his memory could fully serve him in his groggy state, he caught the glimpse of firelight nearby. He rose slowly and followed the light to an extremely rounded archway. Orienting himself with the Fanese architecture, recalling whose home he was guest in, he stepped through the circular entry and onto a low balcony. From there he looked out at the night and a small garden lit by strange lanterns based on the ground. They looked like little stone houses for Fanese sprites. The notion inspired a smile.

Tristus walked across the stone walkway bordering the house, and down a shallow stair. He expected to see Gai Ping or one of the others standing watch, but then he realized that the garden was not completely outside. It was as a small courtyard, closed in by the wings of the house. Assuming it was safe for him to wander here, he did just that.

A chorus of insects and frogs filled the cooling night air. He wandered the stone path for only a few paces before he spotted a bench and decided to sit down, still feeling half asleep. He stayed there quietly for a span and listened to the noises, which suddenly included footsteps.

Tristus all but leapt to his feet at the realization that someone was near. “I apologize if I’ve intruded,” he said to the robed figure standing on the darkened path beneath a gracefully bent tree. Recalling the language barrier, he performed a hurried bow, hoping that it served to convey apology as well as respect.