The Jongurian Mission (47 page)

“We tracked them into the hills west of the road,” Hui explained in a quick voice.
He was nervous and a few thick beads of sweat could be seen forming on his forehead. “They must have seen us coming, for when we came upon them they had taken up defensive positions behind a small clearing with good cover for them and none for us. We were forced to come through a small passage between some large rocks, and that’s when they attacked. One man was killed by their arrows and another was unhorsed. After the momentary surprise we were able to charge their positions. We killed one of them and seriously wounded another, but they injured one and killed another two of us in the process. By then, however, it was only a matter of time. Two of us on horses proved to be too much for them, and they were tiring quickly. Suddenly an arrow sailed into Hu’s throat from somewhere above, killing him. I fought on, keeping a wary eye on the trees above, when an arrow took me in the arm.” The man held up his heavily bandaged forearm for Leisu to see. “Being alone and with an unknown attacker sending arrows from above, I retreated. I managed to catch up with Jin further down the hills, but he was dead on his horse. After that I rode as quickly as I could back to Bindao.”

The man seemed to be relieved to tell of the events and visibly slumped in his chair when he finished.
He’d failed, that much he had admitted, but Leisu understood the circumstances. They were outnumbered to begin with; he simply should have sent more men. He hadn’t even considered that the task would be a challenge. He’d obviously been mistaken. It would not happen again.

“You have no idea who this attacker from above may have been?” Leisu asked.

“No sir, I did not see him. But the arrow that I pulled from my arm was of a Jongurian make.”

“Really, do you still have it?” Leisu asked, sitting forward in his chair.

The man reached down to his pack and pulled the arrow out. It was broken in half and blood covered the upper portion of it, but Leisu could tell immediately from the fletching that the craftsmanship was native to Jonguria.

“It would appear that our Adjurians have a homegrown friend helping them,” Leisu said as he turned the arrow shaft over in his hands.

“Or another Adjurian who just happens to live in that area,” Hui said.

Leisu looked from the arrow to Hui for a moment then stared off toward the wall behind him.
The man was right. It was well known that the Adjurian soldier named Jurin Millos lived around those hills. If he had come to their aid, which was not at all unlikely, then it was also possible that he would have taken them to Wen. That was an interesting thought to consider. It had been ten years since Leisu had seen his former master, and that occasion had not been amicable. If Jurin and Wen were now traveling with the Adjurians he would have to send more men out to deal with them, a lot more.

After a few moments Leisu focused on Hui once again.
“Do you need time for that wound to heal or are you ready to gather some more men together and finish what you started?”

“I am yours to command sir,” Hui said without pause, as Leisu knew he would.
The man would fight to the death next time instead of coming back to report failure for a second time.

“Very well,” Leisu said then rose from his chair and walked around to the front of the desk.
Hui stood at attention as he approached. “I want you and a few other men to find their trail and follow it. Don’t risk another attack. If they are now traveling with Jurin and Wen it would prove too risky. We need to choose the ground next time. Send word when you have spotted them and report where they are heading. I will organize a larger force here in Bindao and lead it personally when I hear from you.”

The man looked up at that last, for it was well known that Leisu was a skilled fighter that any man would want next to him on the field.
It was becoming rare, however, for him to actually lead men in a fight; he usually sent out others to do his and Zhou’s bidding.

“Yes sir,” Hui replied, and moved toward the door, stopping as Leisu’s voice rang out once again.

“One more thing, Hui,” Leisu said, and the man turned slowly to face him. “Do not fail me again.”

Hui nodded with downcast eyes then opened the door and vanished into the hallway.
Leisu moved back to his chair behind the desk and Ko left his spot against the wall to sit in the chair that Hui had left.

“We both know how formidable a fighter Wen is,” Leisu said from his chair as he turned the broken arrow shaft in his hands once again.
“And Jurin is trained by him, so that makes him nearly as dangerous.”

“We
’ll need at least three times as many men as before, then,” Ko said.

“Maybe more,” Leisu replied, looking across the desk at his deputy.

“And yo
u’re right, the field of battle with have to be chosen by us,” Ko said. “We cannot allow them to take up defensive positions again. They got lucky the last time by being in the hills, putting us at a natural disadvantage as their pursuers. With Wen and Jurin with them they must be caught by surprise.”

Leisu rose and looked out the windows behind his desk to the narrow alley below.
“Where are they going, Ko?”

“They’ve been moving north and west since they were spotted on the beach.
If they are indeed going to Wen, then they’ll have to move further north.”

“And what does that tell us?”

“We know they want to get back to Adjuria. If they’re not moving toward Bindao, which will most certainly not be the case with Jurin and Wen to steer them right, then their only other option is to head north toward Waigo and the Isthmus.”

“If they make it to Waigo before us they could secure passage on a fishing boat to Yanshide Island, and from there they would have no trouble getting onto an Adjurian vessel,” Leisu said, turning from the window to look at Ko once again.

“So we stop them before they get to Waigo then,” Ko said.

“Or we stop them in Waigo,” Leisu replied.
“We know that if they go there the chances are good that only a few of them will enter the city. If they divide their forces they’ll be easier to cut down.”

Ko nodded, following Leisu’s train of thought.

“If we could capture the men they send into the city, who will most likely be accompanied by either Wen or Jurin, perhaps both, and then lure still more in after them, we’ll have them.” Leisu slammed his fist into his open palm as he finished.

“And if they fight their way out?” Ko asked after a moment.

“Then we follow them into the mountains,” Leisu said. “There’s no way they’ll be able to get through to the Isthmus from Waigo, it’s too well defended and no one’s allowed to pass. Wen fought there during the war, however, and he knows the mountain’s secrets. They won’t hesitate when they’re that close to home.”

It sounds feasible, sir,” Ko said.

“Ko, I want you to gather some good men and prepare for our trip north.
We’ve already lost six against this rabble; I don’t mean to lose anymore.”

“As you command,” Ko said, rising from his chair and heading toward the door.
When it was closed Leisu sat back in his chair and looked down at the arrow shaft once again. He’d wanted to kill his former master for these ten years and now through a chance of fate he’d been given the chance. Leisu tightly grasped the broken arrow in his hands and snapped it in two, then leaned back and stared out the window.

* * * * *

They made several leagues before the sun crested over the hills in the east the next morning. Jurin led the way along the river. He told them that they’d probably see the mountains before midday, but wouldn’t reach them until the next. Bryn hustled up to the head of the column to ask Jurin about the land.

“What will the
Isthmus be like?” he asked as he sidled up beside the former soldier.

“Well, I’ve never seen it myself,” Jurin replied. “I know that we can’t reach it by any other way than going through Waigo, though. The Xishan Mountains stretch right down to the sea, their cliffs stretching up hundreds of feet above the waves. They are just as daunting along the rest of their length. Beyond them lies the thick Xi’Tsong Jungle. The foliage is so thick that it’s been said to swallow men whole,” he said, looking down on Bryn and giving a smile when he saw the alarm in the boy’s face. “After that it’s a bit of grassland and prairie like we’re on now, then the desert stretches on and on for leagues.”

“I met a man who crossed it once,” Bryn said.
“In Baden for the trade conference was Palen Biln who represented Ithmia.”

“I heard about that march while I was still at Bindao,” Jurin replied.
“How those men survived walking across that desert I’ll know. Most were not so lucky.”

“My father also marched across it, and back again when the attack on the city failed,” Bryn said after a moment.

Jurin looked down at him. “Your father was a very strong man, then,” he said.

“Not strong enough,” Bryn replied, “he was killed on the second day of fighting at Baden.”

Jurin didn’t reply to that and quite a few minutes passed by in silence before Bryn spoke again.

“
How will we get across the isthmus? Walk?” Bryn asked.

“Just hope that you don’t have to,” Jurin replied.
“There’s a good chance that we can secure a ship for you in Waigo.”

“But if we can’t?” Bryn asked.

“Then your uncle’s idea of flagging down a passing fishing boat seems the best chance. Many boats still travel to Yanshide Island to fish, I’ve no doubt. Most likely some’ll be far enough south to spot you on the Isthmus. Trust me lad, the last thing that you want to do is walk across that barren land.”

Bryn though about what it would be like to cross through the
Isthmus of foot. Palen seemed to be a very tough man. He’d have to be to survive that. He led the lead detachment of the disastrous Breakout campaign that sent hundreds of men swarming across the isthmus to strike at Waigo from the rear. When they failed to take the city there was no choice but to head back the way they’d come. They’d also pinned their hopes on catching a ship sailing along the Isthmus. Many were lucky, but more were not. It was believed that more died coming back from Waigo than had fallen at the city’s walls.

“What is Waigo like?” Bryn asked after a few minutes.

Jurin though for a few moments before answering. “It’s nestled in the mountains and takes about half a day of hiking up the base of the hills before you reach it. The mountains give the city natural walls on two sides, while the side facing the Isthmus is protected by immense stone blocks which were chiseled from the mountains hundreds of years ago. Beyond the city the road narrows and stretches into the only navigable pass through the mountains. It takes nearly two whole days to travel it, I hear.”

“But if it
’s in the middle of the mountains, then how can we find a ship there?” Bryn asked, puzzled.

“True, there are no docks at Waigo, but the city does control some further north along the sea at the base of the Xishans.
It’s another two days to reach that.”

“So why do we even need to travel to Waigo at all, then?”

“It’ll be necessary to secure passage in Waigo. The city has a lot of clout with the surrounding area. It’s also there that we can get an official government audience.”

“Do you think that the emperor knows of the attacks on us?” Bryn asked.

“I doubt it. The emperor doesn’t have much actual power anymore, I’m afraid. In fact, I don’t even think that Jonguria would be able to trade with Adjuria at this point. The country’s not as centralized as it once was, and the warlords exert the most power in each region. I’m certain that the man you talked to in Weiling swears fealty to one of the southern warlords, most likely Zhou, even if he does purport to be an imperial official.” Jurin paused and looked down at Bryn. “Tell me, are you certain that this Adjurian you saw in Weiling resembled Grandon Fray?”

“I think so,” Bryn stammered.
“I’ve seen a picture of what he looks like from a book about the war, but that was drawn ten or twenty years ago. He looked a lot like the Regidian from the conference though, Jossen Fray.”

“Jossen is his nephew,” Jurin said, “and from what I’ve heard they do look alike.”

“But what would Grandon be doing in Weiling?”

“I don’t know.
It could be that one of the southern warlords wants to use him to bolster their own prestige. What Grandon would get from the deal I’ve no idea.”

“Could he be planning to take over the throne again?”

“That seems unlikely. I haven’t been in Adjuria in more than ten years, but I don’t think that he was the most popular character when he first tried for the throne.”

“Could Grandon have even survived that long on Desolatia?” Bryn asked.
“And even if he did, wouldn’t he be so old now that he couldn’t do much?”

“Aye, I would think so.
He was your uncle’s age when he tried for the throne. He’d be an old man now.”

“I think that the sooner we get back to Adjuria and tell the king what has happened, the better,” Bryn said.
“I’m sure that a ship will be sent right away to Desolatia to check on Grandon. Most likely he’s still there.”