《Beyond the Mists (Shuli Go Vol. 1)》


 Part 1

    In the final decades of the Shan dynasty, the Shuli Go ¨C magic-infused lawmen and women who had kept the peace for two thousand years ¨C were disbanded as a caste. Forced to wander the land in search of work, they were met with hostility wherever they travelled. Yet every Shuli Go also swore an oath to uphold the law above all else, even when that law no longer had a place for them.


    Aui 10, 3276 ¨C Weiwei Kingdom


    Gaunt with exhaustion, Zhao Lian entered the Three Paths inn to an assault on her weathered senses. The inn was filled with the usual combinations endemic to small town meeting places: sweat, shouting, amateur wine, and fatty meat cooked poorly. Here they were given the additional flavors of the town¡¯s remoteness. Lian had learned these particularities over her years: a local spice in the food and air, the accents of drunken boasts, the poverty of color in clothes and furnishings. Three Paths also boasted something else, the sound of an entirely different music in the air. Wamaian instruments, imperfectly tuned and imperfectly played.


    The main hall was large and half-filled, and Lian had entered quietly, so only the innkeeper noticed her entrance. He was tall and had likely been imposing twenty years earlier, but at this point he was a balding, overweight, middle aged man whose workplace had worn him down. Despite his appearance, he latched on to her with his eyes and his sneer called her to the counter.


    ¡°Ah, to what do I owe the honor Madam meddler?¡±


    Lian approached upright, hoping the fact that she had not eaten anything but hares and berries the last week did not show in her appearance. She stood in front of him and bowed in the formal fashion.


    ¡°Good sir,¡± the formality drifted into her speech, ¡°I am here to serve. I heard of discontent as I travelled nearby. Is there anything¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop that proper shit in my home. There¡¯s nothing for you here meddler. Been a quiet week here and you¡¯d be wise to go on.¡±


    Lian heard the lie as clearly as his desire to be rid of her. The innkeeper¡¯s voice was stressed, and more importantly, the source of that stress was in his very tavern. Head still bowed, she rotated her neck to cast a glance over the entirety of the long hall. She spotted the cause of his concern at a nearby table and decided on a new tactic.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll just have a room then,¡± she lifted her head and stared the man in the eyes, ¡°I assume you¡¯ve got one available?¡±


    At the prospect of money changing hands the innkeeper¡¯s tone changed slightly, though his agreeableness was unaltered. ¡°Ten copper a night for your distinguished self,¡± he said in a very undistinguished tone.


    It was twice what anyone else visiting the town would have paid, but Lian was not in a position to haggle or decline. She was also not in a position to pay.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. But first I need to speak to my associate.¡± Without waiting for a reply or even capturing the inn-keeper¡¯s reaction, she set off down the length of the hall trying to look as official as her weakened, tired body allowed.


    Her associate was a man named Jiang whom she had spotted sitting amidst a contingent of Wamaian men. Jiang was a merchant who Lian had met several times in the past ¨C usually under less than ideal circumstances. She could not remember if the last circumstance had been made un-ideal by her, or by Jiang himself. She suspected the fault last time was his, meaning she was due a favor this time.


    Jiang and the Wamaians were speaking quietly at one of the long tables that filled the main hall of the inn. The other patrons, all locals, had left a buffer of empty tables in all directions around the Wamaians. Even the volume of the otherwise boisterous farmers, labourers, and tradespeople who made up the clientele of the inn began to fade as Lian approached, the crowd wary of the foreigners¡¯ presence. The Wamaians and Jiang sat at the center of that quiet, their voices low and their heads close together. Lian knew they would spot her before she could truly startle them, but she nonetheless approached and announced herself loudly.


    ¡°Excuse me, gentlemen, but I must speak to this traveler.¡±


    The Wamaians all turned, as did Jiang. For a split second, his eyes fell on Lian but lacked any sort of connection. Then, through the cloud of alcohol, the trader¡¯s eyes came alive and he stood up from his bench at the table. ¡°Zhao!¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The trader was tipsy, not completely drunk, which meant Lian had a decent chance of getting the favour she needed out of him. As she recalled, Jiang¡¯s mood peaked early in the drinking and soured quickly afterwards. ¡°Jiang, how are you?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Good, my friend!¡± Jiang stepped over the bench, threw his arms up, and gripped Lian in a friendly embrace. ¡°What brings you to this edge of the world?¡± He asked as he pulled away, his face flushed and his smile easy.


    ¡°Actually I¡¯m hoping I can call in one of those favors¡­¡± Lian let the implication hang, grinning and hoping the alcohol would help it sink into a favorable place in Jiang¡¯s mind.


    Lian didn¡¯t have to wait to find out, Jiang¡¯s response was immediate. ¡°Of course! How could I forget the Shuli Go who saved my life from the avalanche at Shuddering Peaks? Anything, just ask it!¡±


    ¡°Well, to be honest I¡¯m just short of cash right now,¡± Lian scratched behind her neck and looked down, not wanting to point out that she¡¯d never actually been to the Shuddering Peaks. ¡°I could use a room for a night or two.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Tell Zu behind the counter you¡¯ll have the Queen-Consort room, right next to mine! All paid for.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s been a few days on the road ¨C a warm meal would be great too.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, of course. Anything for my friend.¡± He leaned towards her conspiratorially. ¡°The pork¡¯s the only meat I¡¯d eat here, but the bread is delicious. And the wine,¡± he brought his fingers to his lips and kissed them.


    ¡°Thanks, Jiang, you¡¯re a life safer. I¡¯ll pay you back as soon as I have some work.¡±


    ¡°Bah! Don¡¯t think of it. Money comes and goes, a merchant knows this better than anyone.¡±


    Jiang ¨C in fact, all merchants ¨C did not believe that particular maxim, and Lian knew it. Even approaching the dawn of a rather lively bout of drunkenness, Jiang was not typically loose with money. The only time Jiang and money parted easily was when more of it was coming his way.


    With a quick glance Lian took in the Wamaians which had remained seated and stared intently at her. They were dressed in traditional Wamaian garb ¨C a tight fighting one piece linen, their hair cut short and clean, and their faces unreadable. Lian had only met two other Wamaians, and they had worn the same unreadable expression. As far as Lian knew all Wamaians were incapable of laughter or even a smile. But somewhere behind those implacable expressions was a sum of money substantial enough to loosen Jiang¡¯s purse strings. Lian didn¡¯t really care in this case though, she¡¯d got what she needed.


    ¡°Thanks again. I won¡¯t forget this.¡± Lian bowed informally and Jiang did the same before turning his attention back to the Wamaians and picking up the bowl of wine on the table.


    Lian returned to the inn-keeper with all the confidence someone else¡¯s money could buy. ¡°Well, Zu, it looks like I¡¯ll be having the Queen-Consort room, and a plate of pork and bread. On my friend Jiang¡¯s tab.¡±


    The inn-keeper was caught between wanting to hit Lian¡¯s confidence with something hard, and wanting the extra money. As was often the case, money won out.


    ¡°Of course, madam,¡± he bowed in a mockery of Lian¡¯s own formal introduction, before mumbling, ¡°meddler.¡±


    Lian let the remark slide, returning to an empty table and awaiting her food, her mouth already salivating at the thought of something not tiny and chewy and covered in fur striking her taste buds. Shuli Go could last longer than normal on no food, but poor food day after day hit her the same as anyone else.


    Pushing away any worry about the inn-keeper, or whether Jiang may go back on his offer to house and feed her once sober, she leaned her head back and cracked the ache out of her spine. While she imagined just how soft a bed in a room as gaudily named as Queen-Consort might be, her instincts would not let her ignore the fact that one of the Wamaians had not stopped staring at her.


    Let him stare, she thought, probably never seen a Shuli Go before. She cast a sideways glance in his direction and made eye contact, just to let him know she¡¯d caught him. He didn¡¯t look away, didn¡¯t even blink. Lian noted it but knew she wasn¡¯t in the best of shape to confront a stranger from another country. Then her stomach rumbled loud enough for the locals two tables over to look in her direction and laugh.


    Eat first, then tell them to go fuck themselves, she reassured herself as the first plate arrived on a platter. Or maybe just eat and don¡¯t stop eating.


    Jiang was right ¨C the pork was good, and so was the bread. If Shuli Go could drink, she would have gone into the wine too. As it was, she ate herself so full the rest of the room disappeared from view and she made her way straight into the Queen-Consort room with the bed that was almost as soft as she¡¯d imagined, and fell asleep almost at once.


    They came for her in the middle of the night. Comatose with food and exhausted by the weeks of walking to Three Paths, her body was not at its peak. She was off just enough for the six Wamaians to get all the way to the head of her bed before she so much as opened an eye.


    They were quick too, quick enough that even with her enhanced reflexes she was helpless as four of them attached to her limbs and the one nearest her head brought a cloth to her mouth. A cloth reeking of the foul-smelling concoction called Sleeping Mu: an extremely potent form at that. She tried to hold her breath to keep from inhaling the poison as she fought the grips on each limb, but the Wamaians had latched on tight and she had been too surprised to plan her breathing effectively. She felt the drowsiness of the drug start in her fingers and toes before working all the way up. And then she slept.

 Part 2

    She woke up to the sensation of jostling. Jostling and pain. Jostling and pain and cold.


    She was shivering as the world around her moved up and down in erratic bounces, all the while her shoulders, wrists, ankles and knees screamed at her. Her first instinct was to curl up, which was when she realized she was bound: her feet and wrists tied together behind her, her shoulders wrenched into an awkward angle and her arms straight back. On her side, she was completely helpless to warm herself or protect herself from the motions that were tossing her back and forth.


    She moaned as the first fragments of what had happened in the middle of the night came back to her alongside her current pains. ¡°Zhao? You awake?¡± A voice asked through the fog of discomfort. As Lian opened her eyes, she connected the voice to its owner.


    ¡°Jiang.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Where¡­?¡± Lian asked before the cold took her voice away. She rolled her head up to look around and saw she was on the floor of a covered wagon, alongside wrapped bundles and closed barrels. A sliver of early morning light through the front of the wagon illuminated Jiang, sitting on one of the barrels, his head in his hands. It also revealed Lian¡¯s situation in its entirety.


    ¡°Jiang,¡± she started, focusing on keeping her teeth from chattering.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Why am I in here?¡±


    Jiang peered through his fingers, making eye contact with Lian and slowly taking in her question. His eyes were loaded with regret, but not, Lian saw, for anyone but himself. When he replied, he did so quietly, almost at a whisper. ¡°The Wamaians wanted you,¡± he said, burying his face into his palms again, ¡°I told them you were a Shuli Go. They had a bunch of questions.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh, ok,¡± she began quietly before turning up the volume. ¡°And why exactly am I naked?¡± She shouted.


    Jiang winced and recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears. Lian knew instantly that the regret plastered on his face was the average, everyday regret of a bad hangover. "Please, don¡¯t yell. I am not doing well this morning.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not doing well?¡± She yelled even louder. ¡°I¡¯m naked and tied up in the back of a cart going Gods know where. Now tell me what this is about!¡±


    ¡°Ok, ok,¡± Jiang smoothed his temples, his voice still barely above a whisper, ¡°just keep it down, ok? You really don¡¯t want me to get sick in here, on top of everything else.¡±


    ¡°Jiang.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Naked. Why?¡±


    ¡°Well after I told them you were a Shuli Go they had all sorts of questions. And I answered them. And then we had a couple more drinks, and they had more questions. And I started telling them some of the things I¡¯d learned over my years of dealing with you and the others like you. And one of the things I mentioned was that Shuli Go can generate heat all on their own¡­ that is true, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, for about five minutes. And we have to be awake to do it.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yeah, there was a bit of a language breakdown by the end ¨C I couldn¡¯t understand their Imperial after enough drinks. And I was probably slurring a little bit by the end. You know how I get after a few. So some details may have been missed.¡±


    ¡°Cut me out of this position right now!¡± Lian shouted again, getting only the slightest satisfaction from the suffering it caused Jiang.


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± He protested feebly. ¡°First of all, I think if I got up from here my head would explode and then you¡¯d have brain and skull all over you.¡± He took a deep breath as if that would stop his head from collapsing. ¡°Second the Wamaians told me not to touch you. They don¡¯t have sanctioned magic users there. They¡¯re convinced if I touch you you¡¯ll be able to take over my body and kill all of them.¡±


    ¡°Ok. First of all, they only think that because you told them that. And second of all, if you don¡¯t at least cover me up with something in the next five seconds, the pain you¡¯re feeling in your head is just a much duller version of the pain I¡¯m going to be applying to your testicles once I get out of here.¡±


    Jiang dropped his hands and stared at Lian.


    ¡°Don¡¯t stare!¡±


    He shook his head, the motion once again causing him a great deal of discomfort, before he responded, ¡°I¡¯m not staring! It¡¯s just hard to think when my head feels like this.¡±


    ¡°Cover me up right now!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to cover you with. All I have is my cloak,¡± he tugged at the thick wool cover he wore. ¡°If I cover you with that, then I¡¯ll be cold.¡±


    Lian closed her eyes and let the cold and frustration tremble her body in equal measures. ¡°Jiang!¡± She shouted.


    ¡°Ok, ok,¡± he finally relented, standing up and slowly removing his cloak before he fanned it over her and then deposited it on her form. It wasn¡¯t much warmer than the outside, but it provided a thick insulation under which she could work her Shuli Go magic.


    ¡°Huono neitu¡± she intoned in ancient Imperial, focusing her attention inwards, towards her heart, which began to beat faster and faster, until a faint glow of heat began to radiate out from it. Her blood carried the heat across her body, and within moments she was no longer frozen, merely cold. She held the spell for a minute, before the rapid beat of her heart began to affect her breathing. She was just short of comfortable when she allowed the magic to dissipate, and she returned her attention to Jiang, who was rubbing his arms to stay warm and staring straight ahead at nothing.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Lian took a deep breath before she decided to press Jiang for more information. ¡°What the hell is going on here Jiang?¡±


    The merchant, unaccustomed to any unpleasantness beyond the aforementioned hangover, seemed genuinely scared by the situation. ¡°I swear I don¡¯t know. One of the Wamaians I¡¯d met before. He¡¯d traded me five gold a horse from a paddock where they weren¡¯t worth ten silver each. He¡¯d sent word saying he had more need for my ability to find valuable¡­things. Something about their King had sent them. I stopped paying attention once I remembered the profit on those horses.¡±


    ¡°Of course you did. So you have no idea what they want? What did you talk to them about last night?¡±


    ¡°Figures. They said they¡¯d provide a hundred of their gold pieces before they even took delivery. An initial payment. Can you imagine that Zhao?¡± At the introduction of figures into the conversation, Jiang¡¯s headache disappeared. ¡°Do you know how big their gold pieces are? Almost twice the size of Imperial coin. Two hundred gold for nothing!¡±


    ¡°Do you at least know where we are?¡±


    ¡°Heading into Wamai I think.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±


    ¡°I was still pretty drunk when they threw me in here,¡± Jiang went back to rubbing his temples. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how long we¡¯ve been on the road.¡±


    ¡°No, you missed my point. You? Think? Ha!¡± She shouted as loud as she could.


    Jiang shook his head before burping involuntarily and holding his hand to his mouth, visibly trying to keep his insides inside. Lian figured he¡¯d had enough for that particular moment.


    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re going to Wamai, which explains why it¡¯s so cold,¡± she tried to analyze the situation, ¡°and they haven¡¯t killed us. So they must need us, or at least one of us, for something. How good is your Wamaian? Do you think you can bargain with them if it comes down to it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s basic. I come to Three Roads once a year, and I¡¯ve only ever come into Wamai twice. Never this far. They¡¯re not fond of Imperial citizens.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­¡± Lian muttered, the warmth from her spell already leaking out the wool cloak just as the burn in her wrists, shoulders, and ankles reasserted itself. ¡°I need to meditate. Give me ten minutes or so.¡±


    ¡°Take as long as you need.¡± Jiang¡¯s eyes were closed, his hand still poised near his mouth. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±


    Lian shut her eyes and focused on her breathing: the rhythm of it, then the sensation of each breath entering and leaving her lungs, the way the oxygen moved from her chest to each of the extremities, this flow repeated over and over within the rhythm until it set her mind into an active serenity, like an insect floating atop a peaceful, moving stream, cleaning itself in the water it strode upon. Into this breathing and motion, she relaxed her body, giving her joints and muscles respite and allowing her mind to focus on just how she could get out of this situation.


    She never had the chance to get out, because the situation changed suddenly. In her meditation her senses remained finely tuned, and when the cart suddenly came to a stop, she snapped her eyes open. There was the din of a quiet conversation a few dozen feet from her location, to which she listened intently. Unfortunately, she could make nothing of the words as they were all spoken in Wamaian. However, she could tell that there was one voice, deep and thunderous, that was in charge.


    ¡°You recognize that voice?¡± She asked Jiang. He shook his head.


    The voice approached the wagon along with dozens of feet, and Jiang¡¯s eyes filled with fear. ¡°Sorry, Zhao, really, about all this,¡± he said sheepishly as he stood over her and removed his cloak, ¡°but I really don¡¯t want to make them any angrier than they already are.¡±


    Lian was going to quip back at Jiang, but was too focused on trying to see what was coming her way. The footsteps approached the back of the wagon and stopped for a moment before the cloth curtains were pulled open.


    Cold, mountain sunlight poured in, temporarily blinding Lian before her eyes adapted and she saw the owner of the voice ¨C a ceremoniously armored man with a thick moustache and greying eyebrows visible underneath his helmet ¨C staring at her, his eyes wide with rage. It took a moment, but Lian realized the rage was not directed at her.


    The man slammed the curtains shut, and at once his voice took on a louder, more violent tone. ¡°Do you understand anything he¡¯s saying?¡± Lian asked.


    ¡°A few pieces. He¡¯s angry at them for something. The ones who brought us here.¡±


    ¡°Are they saying---¡° but again Lian was cut off as the voices suddenly stopped and the curtain was again pulled open. One of the men who had captured Lian the night before approached and cut the ropes binding her. Her arms emerged into unexpected slack and the pain of having held the position flooded back through her shoulders and knees. She released an involuntary grunt, and moved her limbs back in front of her slowly, letting the pain come to her in waves.


    The man who cut her free backed away, his head bowed, and a few seconds later another one approached with her garments and sword neatly folded in his arms. He too approached with his head lowered, before placing the articles beside her on the wagon floor. Lian watched the men coolly, but didn¡¯t move to touch the clothing. Instead she locked onto the face of the leader, who was the only one looking at her. ¡°I guess thank you is in order?¡± She asked rhetorically, not expecting him to understand her.


    ¡°No, an apology,¡± the mustached leader replied through a thick Wamaian accent. ¡°My men behaved very poorly. Please, accept my apology on behalf of our King.¡±


    Lian quickly looked up at Jiang, whose face indicated a level of surprise almost equal to Lian¡¯s own. Wamaians were one of the more isolationist kingdoms that surrounded the Central Empire, and meeting one that spoke enough Imperial to carry on a conversation was rare.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll hold off accepting that apology until you explain what the hell is going on,¡± Lian said as she sat up and moved her arms in short circles, loosening the muscles in her shoulders and arms. She did not move to take her clothes.


    ¡°Yes, of course. I will explain everything. With food. But please, you must dress, it is improper for me and my men to see you.¡±


    The man approached and closed the curtain again, dropping Lian into darkness. Lian picked up the clothes and began dressing as Jiang spoke, relief endowed in his voice. ¡°Well they probably don¡¯t mean to kill us if they gave you that sword back.¡±


    Lian said nothing, but dressed quickly, and placed her sword ¨C a cheap replacement for a traditional Shuli Go blade, mostly dull and flimsy ¨C into its traditional position on her back. She moved to open the curtain again, but at that moment the wagon started off, resuming the bouncing that had awoken Lian. She parted the curtain just enough to see the mustached leader standing over one of his subordinates.


    The subordinate knelt and held his right arm out in front of himself. He stared forward, vacant, and it wasn¡¯t until the mustached man unsheathed his sword that Lian knew what was happening.


    The subordinate¡¯s hand was on the ground in a split second, the leader¡¯s blade barely bloodied and the incision a clean, even cut, just below the wrist joint. Even with all her training, Lian could not have done better.


    She heard Jiang swallowing in terror just behind her, his eyes on the sight of the hand and subordinate as they diminished into the distance. ¡°Somehow I don¡¯t feel safe quite yet,¡± Lian remarked.

 Part 3

    The wagon continued along the bumpy path into Wamai for another four miles before it came to a short rest, when the mustached leader with the booming voice entered. He carried a small folding table and placed it upon the ground in the middle of the wagon, upon which another subordinate placed a bowl of steaming rice and several skewers of meat before leaving Lian and Jiang with the leader.


    Lian and Jiang stood until the mustached man bowed formally and knelt down across from them and the food. The cart began moving again as Lian and Jiang knelt.


    ¡°Madam. Sir." He addressed them formally through his accent. "My name is Hoji. I apologize for the earlier rudeness. You are a guest in our land, and I must ask your forgiveness for the dishonor of my men.¡± He bowed his head.


    Jiang and Lian exchanged a quick look. Neither of them replied.


    Hoji said nothing.


    Lian and Jiang said nothing.


    Hoji kept his head bowed.


    Jiang and Lian looked at one another again. Jiang motioned for her to say something. She shrugged her shoulders and waved her arms in confusion that indicated she had no idea what to say. Jiang grew agitated and he pointed at her then to Hoji in quick movements. Lian, indignant, shook her head and pointed back at Hoji. They both rolled their eyes and stumbled the words over one another: ¡°You are forgiven,¡± they said in synchronized, exasperated tones.


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t necessary to take your man¡¯s hand like that,¡± Lian added as Hoji rose up from his bow.


    Hoji looked at her, confused. ¡°Do you not punish thieves in your land? Did he not steal your clothing and weapon?¡±


    ¡°But apparently it was a misunderstanding.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and he paid for his¡­ misunderstanding,¡± Hoji rolled the long Imperial word over in his tongue, as if tasting it.


    There was no hesitancy or doubt in Hoji¡¯s voice though. He explained it as if he was explaining the sum of a basic formula. It was just fact. Already Lian could tell that tone was not due to any linguistic barrier.


    ¡°So why are we here?¡± Jiang asked.


    Hoji nodded before removing three sets of food sticks from his sleeve and placing them on the table. ¡°Please, eat. I will explain.¡±


    Lian, despite her kidnapping, persistent chill, and threat of brutal attack, was still famished from her long walk into Three Paths. Plus, she did not want to be rude. She took a set of utensils and began to eat, her attention still on Hoji.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°My men were sent to your town to find an arbitrator. Our country does not have Shuli Go. The King is our final judge. Except when the issue is the King. Then we have a tradition of arbitrators.¡±


    Jiang and Lian exchanged a quick look. ¡°What issue can there be around the King?¡± Jiang asked.


    ¡°The King is of the age of marriage. And there are two¡­duchesses, I think, would be your word¡­ that are suitable brides. Both have claim to marry the King, and so an arbitrator is required.¡±


    ¡°Claim to marry the King?" Jiang was confused. "How does that¡ª¡± Lian touched his shoulder to silence him.


    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend I understand exactly what you¡¯re asking, but I can tell you that I am qualified,¡± Lian assured Hoji. The Wamaian¡¯s face flooded with relief, and a smile appeared through his mustache.


    ¡°Then you are Shuli Go?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you have been arbitrator before?¡±


    ¡°Never for a King. But yes, many times before.¡±


    ¡°Then my mission has been a success. You will be taken to the capital, and you will see both sides of the problem.¡±


    ¡°Good. That¡¯s a good start,¡± Lian said, even returning his smile.


    ¡°What about me? Why did you take me if you just needed her?¡±


    ¡°My men were to kill you if you had lied. You will remain in Hona. A town. We are going there now. You will stay until it is time for you both to return.¡±


    Jiang again swallowed deeply. Lian chuckled.


    ¡°G-g-good,¡± Jiang finally managed to say.


    ¡°How far away is the capital?¡± Lian asked.


    ¡°Many miles. Once we reach Hona, you will be given a horse and you will travel along the fastest route. The King is expecting an arbitrator soon.¡±


    ¡°Ok. I, um, well, I hate to bring this up, but¡­¡±


    Hoji again smiled, ¡°Your payment?¡±


    ¡°It is customary for Shuli Go to discuss this in advance these days.¡±


    ¡°The King is a gracious man. He rewards very well, those who serve him very well.¡±


    Lian, remembering the poverty of her trip into Three Paths, was happy to take the promise of any reward. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll try to serve him well then.¡±


    Hoji smiled once again before rising from the floor of the wagon and bowing formally. ¡°Eat. When we get to Hona, you must depart right away. You will meet our Foreign Minister. Minister Ida, who will ride with you to the capital. There will be no time to waste.¡± He then leapt out of the back of the cart as it moved, tumbling poetically to the ground with ease. A whistle called his horse and soon there was nothing to see out the back of the wagon except the sloped trail behind them, and the mists which seemed to grow like smoke from a fire on either side of the path.


    Jiang and Lian ate mostly in silence: Jiang still shaken by the fact that one of the traits that best served him as a merchant ¨C lying ¨C had almost cost him his life; Lian troubled by the implied meaning of Hoji¡¯s promise.


    ¡°He rewards very well, those who serve him very well.¡±


    Lian did not want to think of what happened to those who did not serve him well.


    In Lian¡¯s years as a Shuli Go she had been forced to walk some very tricky political ground, but never with a King, and never in a world where she didn¡¯t know all the variables. She was entering a playing field where she didn¡¯t even know the rules, and the consequences for stepping outside them already seemed harsher than any she would have distributed as an officer of Imperial law. She ate the last of the rice, frozen hard in the mountain air, and worried that it may be one of her last meals.

 Part 4

    The country of Wamai was separated from the Central Empire by two sets of mountains called, not surprisingly, the Wamaian Mountains. The only land path into the country was the winding one that moved northwest between the two mountain ranges. The one break between the two halves of the Wamaian Mountains were met by a third set of mountains that became the spine of the Wamaian archipelago, stretching northwest. The road ventured into this triad of impassable rock cliffs, a treacherous and steep climb up that meant an invasion from the Empire was all-but impossible.


    Because of its physical isolation, Wamai had grown far more independently of the Empire than the other bordering kingdoms, many of which merely emulated Imperial customs. Wamai was largely a mystery, conducting trade in small quantities and paying homage to the Emperor or Empress in almost equal quantities to the Imperial bribes that were the hallmark of the Central Empire¡¯s foreign policy.


    It was this impossible path Lian and Jiang followed that day, the subsequent night, and through to the next morning. It was that mystery that haunted Lian as she searched for sleep ¨C under a warm blanket this time ¨C as they travelled to Hona.


    Once they arrived in the town, she was glad to have found even the small bits of sleep she had. Stepping out of the wagon, she and Jiang were directed to a small camp set up on the edge of town. Lian spent most of the time trying to peer into the collection of buildings, a place eerily reminiscent of Three Paths itself, except for two things: its architecture, which was different from anything Lian had seen before; and its snow, which coated every surface and seemed to fall continuously. Lian had visited mountains several times in her life, and she knew based on the threadbare nature of the air that they were at least a mile and a half above the sea. It was only late autumn, and the snow had just started, but she knew from the strong, angled roofs on the buildings that the town was used to spending months battling snow and cold. She also noted that the walls of the town, through which they had already passed, were thicker than those of the Imperial capital. The town wasn¡¯t just an outpost, it was the first line of defense should the Central Empire ever try and attack.


    Lian¡¯s bout of observation was short lived, because Minister Ida arrived shortly thereafter and brought with him a train of twenty men, all on horseback and all ornately armored. The Minister himself wore a slightly more ornamental version of Hoji¡¯s uniform armor, the helmet ringed with a thin band of gold. Lian and Jiang stood up, as Hoji and the Minister spoke briefly just out of Lian¡¯s hearing,This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°What do you think they¡¯re talking about?¡± Jiang asked.


    ¡°Probably the particulars of how they¡¯re going to kill us if I screw up.¡±


    ¡°Oh good, I was worried it was going to be something scary.¡±


    The Wamaians approached and bowed before Lian, formally, in the Imperial fashion. Lian returned the bow, and Hoji introduced the Minister.


    ¡°A pleasure and a thousand blessings upon you and your family,¡± Lian said, holding the bow.


    ¡°And a hundred years of peace and joy to yours,¡± Ida gave the appropriate response in unaccented Imperial. Their bow ended and Ida¡¯s face ¨C an old, weathered, and keenly intelligent one ¨C dispensed any formalities, ¡°But first we require at least a generation of peace here, in Wamai.¡±


    ¡°I understand you need an arbitrator,¡± Lian offered.


    "More. A peacemaker," he vocalized with a mix of resignation and hope that Lian had heard only in the desperate and the damned. Ida gave the impression of being both.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Ida asked. ¡°We will ride together, and with haste. The court is anxious for your arrival.¡±


    ¡°My associate, Jiang, will be looked after here?¡±


    Ida did not look at Jiang, even as Lian motioned towards him. ¡°Yes, of course. Hoji will look after him. He is prefect of this area, and no one will go against his word.¡±


    Hoji bowed slightly, approving of Ida¡¯s description, and Lian looked to Jiang, who was still scared but who ushered Lian on with a nod and a weak smile. Lian smiled too, which she hoped came off as reassuring. It didn¡¯t, but Jiang nonetheless smiled a little wider in return.


    ¡°How long will I be gone? I would like my friend to know when he can expect me back.¡±


    "You will take as long as you need to render a decision." Ida''s response was brusque but not rude. "The speed at which you return is entirely up to you."


    Lian took a chance then, veering off social convention, ¡°Ballpark it for me. Days? Weeks? Months?¡±


    Ida smiled, partly in recognition of the saying ¨C though she doubted Wamaians played the same game of ball and stick that every child in the Central Empire enjoyed, he clearly understood the reference ¨C and partly for the informal nature of Lian¡¯s question. ¡°That depends on one thing,¡± he said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How quickly you can learn Wamaian law.¡±

 Part 5

    Lian and Ida rode side by side from the edge of Hona and into the mists of the Wamaian mountains, their horses close enough for Lian to reach out and grab Ida by the shoulder. Their pace was quick and they stopped only twice a day ¨C one meal at midday, and one at night when the darkness combined with the mist and snow rolling off the mountains to make the path dangerous, even by torch. It was the first night¡¯s stopping point when Ida explained what Lian¡¯s task really looked like.


    ¡°You must know, Shuli Go, that I am not a natural politician. Few of us in Wamai are. I am Foreign Minister, but that post is largely ceremonial. We have little to do with the rest of the world. You will be more of the outside world than most of the court will have seen their entire lives. I was well educated as a child. I was the fourth son, and my father thought I would never inherit our lands. He assumed I would enter a career as a courtier, so he directed my training to that particular battlefield. My brothers had tutors in swordplay and warfare. I was taught Imperial and bookkeeping. It turned out our true paths were reversed ¨C my brothers made poor warriors and were dead by the time I was twenty, and I make a poor politician. When my father died, I inherited all our lands, and I was forced to learn the craft of my ancestors in practice. A twenty year old leader of a major clan with more practice in poetry than battle tactics is a prime target in Wamai.


    ¡°I did lose my father¡¯s land, in the end. But not for forty years. And even then, it was through deceit away from the battlefield. My men were betrayed as I rode into my final battle, our archers directed to fire into my backside and our reinforcements sent to their death. I survived that day with my honor intact only because of the sheer number of men I killed. I was beaten, but not on the battlefield. I lost, Shuli Go, because I had forgotten the lessons my father had arranged for me. The lessons of the far more dangerous battlefield: politics.


    ¡°You are entering that field. To put it simply, the King of Wamai has been reduced to a ceremonial role. He is a figurehead. When my great-great-grandfather ruled the Ida clan, the King still had sway over the major clans, and army enough to enforce his rule should one clan step out of its proper role. But these last hundred and fifty years have destroyed the King¡¯s power. Your Empire has not troubled us in two hundred years, and we have had nowhere to look but inwards. The leader of each clan rules over his dominions like petty kingdoms, and the King and all the laws he is charged with enforcing, are paid lip service only. The clans move closer to war between one another each day, and the preparations for this war are not only material. Alliances and politics are underway that confound me and would have left my father, who was a warrior above all else, completely confused. A warrior seeks certainty and the chance to test steel. The leaders of clans today are more concerned with gold for bribes and horses for a final, unnecessary rush of cavalry after the field has already been covered in corpses.


    ¡°The King is new ¨C twenty years old ¨C and unmarried. Above all else, an alliance of blood with the King would benefit a clan deeply. Amongst the peasants the King is still revered as a God, and there are men, even amongst the warrior caste, who devote themselves and their loyalty to him above their clan lords. There are soldiers and farmers who will not raise a stick against a clan in a formal alliance of marriage with the King. I am one of those. I once swore this King¡¯s father an oath to serve his family until I died. And I will not break it. Hence, this position of Foreign Minister.


    ¡°In centuries past the King would have chosen his own wife, but as the position has weakened, each generation of King has been forced to adopt new laws that eroded his choice. First the marriage needed the approval of at least three clan leaders. Then it needed a majority of clan leaders to vote for it. Now, the King has no choice whatsoever ¨C his father signed away his marriage rights when the King was but a child. His father did this to avoid a war, but it has only delayed it.


    ¡°There are now two clans with claims to the King¡¯s marital bed. The competing claims have come about because the contract the King¡¯s father signed was iron-clad, and full of redundancies. He agreed to marry his son to the first eligible daughter of one of the weakest clans alive at that time. Yet as often happens in Wamai, that clan¡¯s lands did not remain their own for very long. And so two claimants have now risen out of the ashes of war to marry the King.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°You, Shuli Go, will decide which of the clans will marry into the royal family, and be given an insurmountable edge right as our country enters the brink of war.¡±


    Lian was sitting next to Ida beside a camp fire, a bowl of rice in her hands and a blanket wrapped around her. She stared at Ida for a moment, then shoveled a load of rice into her mouth. ¡°Ok,¡± she said calmly between chews, devouring the information just as slowly as the food.


    ¡°Ok.¡± She repeated, slightly more confident.


    ¡°Do I need to repeat it?¡±


    Lian shook her head. ¡°No. But back in Hona you said you wanted a peacemaker.¡±


    Ida was a direct man whose years of combat were layered atop the cheerful, intelligent face his childhood had granted him. As Lian had listened, she¡¯d seen the mix of competence, passion, and bravery that had obviously made him one of Wamai¡¯s more respected clan leaders, and now, a Minister to their King. That he spoke Imperial with such a clean accent ¨C cleaner even than Lian herself, who had had her own regional accent beaten out of her during her years in the Shuli Go school ¨C was indicative of his skill and dedication to a craft. Lian knew he was selling himself short as a diplomat, and likely as a politician as well. If Ida led men down a course, they were likely to follow him to the end.


    ¡°Yes, peace. But a short one,¡± he responded. ¡°I do not have any preconceptions about the longevity of any peace we find.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°One of the two clans: they are not, by nature, peaceful. If they end up on the wrong side of this marriage, they will not continue to play political games to expand their power. I fear they will go straight to war.¡±


    Lian nodded, continuing to eat, ¡°which of the two? Tell me about these families.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°You are a judge of sorts, aren¡¯t you, Shuli Go?¡±


    ¡°Please, Minister, call me by my family name at least. Call me Zhao.¡±


    ¡°Very well Zhao. You are a judge?¡±


    ¡°I was. Shuli Go are many things, but yes, part of them is judge.¡±


    ¡°And would a judge make their first impression based on one person¡¯s word alone, without hearing both sides of the dispute first?¡±


    Lian smiled, ¡°I¡¯ve found the first impression is far less important than the final one. And a good judge can take information from any source and find the truth or lies in it.¡±


    Ida returned her smile, ¡°A good answer. But this is not my role. I am to deliver you to the capital and give you a summary of the problem. The specifics will have to wait until we arrive. Then you will hear both sides, and you can begin your deliberations.¡±


    Lian nodded and finished her rice. Her stomach full, she decided to try to reach Ida another way. ¡°If you won¡¯t talk about the case, then perhaps you¡¯ll fill me in on that sword of yours.¡±


    Minister Ida was dressed in what Lian now saw to be the warrior gear of Wamai. A layer of tough leather armor, plated with small squares of overlapping metal. It covered the torso in one smooth piece, with skirts that fell down to the knee in quadrants, providing protection for the legs. His shins were likewise covered in a metal plate, while the sandals he wore were tied tightly and wrapped over in another layer of thick leather. The sword, a traditional Wamaian blade of curved steel, was the same as what every other warrior in the caravan wore. Ida was taken aback by her question, enough for it to register on his face. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Show me how it works. How do you use it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a sword, it cuts.¡± He seemed genuinely confused by her question. ¡°I use it the same way I have since birth.¡±


    Lian couldn¡¯t tell if his resistance was from disbelief that someone didn¡¯t know how the sword worked, or if he was unprepared to hear a woman ask about a sword at all. Lian decided to take the last part out the equation. ¡°Shuli Go are also warriors, you know. I¡¯ve used most kinds of weapons you can think of, but I¡¯ve never seen a sword like yours before.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I knew our weapons were different than yours, but I¡¯d assumed the Empire would have invented something similar. Shall we compare?¡±


    Lian smiled and they both removed their swords over the campfire. Then they spoke of the craftsmanship that had gone into each ¨C of which Lian was embarrassed to admit, was not much for hers, an imitation Shuli Go blade she¡¯d made do with for over a year. Then they talked of the grips and the weighting. Then they showed the basic techniques all young warriors were taught in their respective countries. Then they spoke of the methods those young warriors used to train and become slightly older warriors. And they talked, on and on, well into the night, until finally they collapsed onto rolled out mattresses on the cold earth, a fire kept roaring by Ida¡¯s men and a path towards friendship laid out before them.

 Part 6

    It was four more days ride to Wamai¡¯s capital city of Karuto, and each day Lian and Ida rode faster and faster, until the final day was nothing but a blur as they sprinted, changing horses whenever one grew too tired to continue. Each day Lian also saw more of the mystery that was the country. Fewer than a hundred Imperial citizens had seen as much of Wamai as Lian in the last hundred years.


    As they crossed the highest point of the Wamaian mountains, they descended into the foothills that dominated most of Wamai, upon which the country had built a way of life that seemed to be taken directly out of the old texts of Golden Age idyllism. Small farming villages came up every ten or twenty miles on the road, with farmers¡¯ huts and shepherds¡¯ homes littered across the landscape. The farmers to the south were harvesting grains before winter approached, while the farmers further north ¨C where the temperatures grew more temperate and snow seemed as foreign as Lian ¨C were planting the last rice crops of the season. The crops themselves were familiar to Lian, who had grown up in a similar climate, albeit far across the other side of the Empire. But the people were wholly different than the farmers she had seen in her youth.


    Farmers in Wamai seemed well-fed, clean, even prosperous to some degree. There was none of the desperation and constant fear that so often typified the peasants Lian had seen time and again during her travels across the Empire. Lian had trouble connecting the sight of the average Wamaian with Ida¡¯s stories of constant warfare and clan infighting.


    ¡°We have a different understanding of things, perhaps,¡± he explained. ¡°In the Empire your Ten Values of Heaven place the farmer low in the grand scheme. In Wamai we have always known farmers make all the rest possible. Without food the greatest general is but a skeleton, the same as anyone else. Most clans take pride in allowing their peasants to care for them. As a rule we do not take lands from one another for the wealth of their farms.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you fight?¡±


    ¡°For honor.¡±


    As they travelled Lian saw the way honor infected every part of Wamaian society. Honor, just as much as language, prevented any of Ida¡¯s men from speaking to Lian. She was a foreigner, and therefore considered inherently dishonorable ¨C a fact she recognized when she accidentally touched the hand of one of the men serving her food one day. The revulsion on his face and the way he tried to wipe any remnant of her off his hand was, to Lian at least, comical. But the overwhelming dedication to honor meant only the highest ranking of Ida¡¯s men could even speak to him. Similarly, the peasants, while revered, were forbidden from speaking to anyone but the lowest soldiers. The distinctions of class may not have been as numerous as the Ten Values of Heaven, but they were so rigid Lian couldn¡¯t help but think that the punishments for circumventing them must be significant. As they travelled Lian developed a sense of the moral filaments that Ida¡¯s men seemed to wrap around the value of honor, keeping everything and everyone in their place. Even though they never spoke again of Wamaian law or the arbitration Lian was going to undertake, Ida and the trip nonetheless provided Lian with an understanding of the central tenets of Wamaian way of life.


    That way of life appeared overwhelmingly rural, with the exception of the one major city which they passed from a distance. Its walls were high and imposing, and its towers were nearly as tall as any Lian had seen in the Empire. The roads around the city were paved with stone and busy ¨C carts, livestock, and peasants from all around flooded towards it.


    ¡°We¡¯re not stopping in there for anything?¡± Lian teased as they took their mid-day meal with the city barely visible on the horizon.


    Ida smiled, the lack of politician in him coming out, ¡°I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t share all our secrets with you Zhao.¡±


    Then on the fifth and final day or riding, just as the sun was beginning to set behind a wave of hills to the west, Ida slowed their pace and pointed to the top of the ridge, at a sheer white wall that traced a stern outline of the dusk¡¯s orange and purple lights.


    ¡°There,¡± he explained, ¡°is Karuto.¡±


    It was a small city ¨C no larger than a dozen or so Lian had seen in the Empire, but from that very first view she knew it held wealth more concentrated than anything she had ever laid eyes on. As they approached, that impression grew stronger and stronger.


    They rode quickly up the hill to that first wall, where Ida exchanged words with an outpost a hundred yards away from the wall and a pair of giant wooden doors, inlaid with gold and steel, themselves at least twenty yards tall. The outpost used a shutter on a giant steel furnace to signal the door open, and their procession of horses entered.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite a city you¡¯ve got here,¡± Lian told Ida as their horses finally slowed to a trot, the animals sweaty and exhausted from the last few hours into the capital.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost all ornamental,¡± Ida responded. ¡°The capital is the seat of the King, and little else. There is no commerce that passes through here, and no culture to speak of. It is a place for the King, his Ministers, and the court to hold session. The real cities of Wamai are much more impressive.¡±


    Lian couldn¡¯t think of another city she¡¯d been to that was as impressive as Karuto ¨C not even the Central Empire¡¯s capital of Nianjang was as clean or organized. As they passed through three sequentially impressive walled gates though, she started to see Ida¡¯s point: the city was sterile. Lavish, with enough gold embroidered across cloths, flags, wood and stone to set even the Ancient Castle of Liangyong to shame, yet distant and unfriendly at the same time. Except for the soldiers that guarded it and the few servants that scurried about and stared at Lian, the city seemed empty. There was no life or spirit to the place.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Are there no people here?¡±


    ¡°No. The soldiers are loyal to the King, and the servants to their soldiers. But this capitol was built a hundred years ago, after the King¡¯s position had been¡­weakened. It is a neutral ground, not strategically important except for its position on the hill here.¡± Ida then nudged his horse closer to Lian, so that their legs touched. He leaned over and whispered the last part, even though Lian couldn¡¯t see anyone and no one there likely spoke Imperial anyway. ¡°It is a prison for the King. A beautiful, regal, prison.¡±


    They reached the true interior of the city and the Wamaian King¡¯s castle stood tall and square in front of them. An armed group of a hundred stood guard outside the final set of doors, and instructed Ida and Lian to dismount. After they had done so, Ida instructed Lian to disarm herself and present the weapon to the guards. She did so, and then followed Ida in through the doors.


    The interior was even more ornate than the exterior, made entirely of smooth, polished stone, and filled with golden ornamentation. Lian knew that the Wamaians used gold as their one currency, so she could only imagine the wealth being displayed in such ornate artwork: golden sculptures of dragons, phoenixes, upright lizards and other monsters, some of them in battle with one another. The air had even been perfumed and smelled of fresh pine. Lian, still in her threadbare tunic from the travel into Three Paths, suddenly felt underprepared to face a King.


    Ida read her mind. ¡°You will have to change before you meet the King.¡±


    Lian breathed a sigh of relief. They stopped at a hall where a contingent of very formally dressed servants were waiting for them.


    ¡°These ones will prepare you to meet the King. When you enter, you must stop next to me and kowtow, all the way to the ground. You will be dressed in traditional female supplicant¡¯s clothes. You must remain in that position until the King commands you to rise. Do not look him directly in the eye until that happens. I will translate for you, but do not speak until I tell you to. Do you understand?¡±


    Lian smiled. ¡°Shutting up is about the easiest thing to do.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Ida bowed, ¡°I will see you in there.¡±


    The servants whisked Lian away into a secluded room, where she was stripped bare and placed atop a metal drain, then drenched in three large bowls of warmed water. A batch of the servants then scrubbed her hands and feet clean with soft brushes as her hair, then her body, was patted dry with a towel. In minutes she had weeks¡¯ worth of grime and stench lifted off her. Presented with a large, pure white folded cloth, she picked it up and stared. After staring long enough, one of the servants unfolded it and began to dress her in it. The garment was intentionally oversized, a large gap at the top for her head, and sleeves and a single skirt on the bottom so large the only way to move was to shuffle. It reminded her of the Imperial courtiers uniforms described in textbooks from over a thousand years earlier. There, too, it wasn¡¯t just about formalizing appearances, but minimizing threats. After being completely dressed, the only way Lian could move was to hold her arms out at forty-five degrees to her shoulders, and to shuffle on top of the long train of the robe. Not even the best assassins could do much in those kinds of clothes.


    Finally a female servant approached with a tray full of makeup, her hand already on the first coated brush, ready to spread the white powder on Lian¡¯s face. Lian held up a sleeved hand, stopping her. ¡°I hardly ever wear the stuff. Wouldn¡¯t want to give my employer the wrong first impression.¡±


    The servant, not understanding a word, tried again. Lian gripped the servant¡¯s arm through tight enough to be clear, and shook her head no. There was a gasp of disapproval from the rest of the servants and some mumbles of protest, but the makeup artist could read Lian¡¯s face well enough to give it up. Lian had a feeling Ida wouldn¡¯t be wearing makeup, and she didn¡¯t want the King¡¯s impression of her to be of a typical Wamaian woman. To do her job, she needed to be a Shuli Go above all else.


    She was paraded down a series of halls and then stopped on the edge of the throne room by two guards bearing axes. The King was seated on a gold throne a hundred and fifty yards away, and Lian could see Ida nearby. Ida shouted something to the guards, who uncrossed their weapons and turned ninety degrees to invite Lian in. She walked.


    Well, shuffled. Slowly. As she did, she made sure to take in as much of the large, gaudily adorned throne room as she could, without looking directly at the King. The room was quiet and empty except for Ida and a few more ministers all about twenty paces away from the King, facing Lian as she made her approach, all wearing the same armor and gold circlet on their helmets. Behind them, a mere ten paces from the King, were two men, dressed in Wamaian armor but adorned in starkly different colors. Purple stood to the King¡¯s left ¨C a tall, youthful looking man who held his helmet in the crook of his arm. To the right was an old, scared face of a man in all red, the grimace on his face either etched from pain, or hatred, or both.


    Lian stopped next to Ida, then got on her knees and lay in a traditional prostrate pose, her arms directly in front of her, coated in white, her head touching the ground.


    Ida spoke from her side, and included her name, and the words ¡°Shuli Go¡± in the midst of his Wamaian. Lian was struck by the harmonious rise and fall of Ida¡¯s words, even if the language itself still sounded vague and imprecise compared to Imperial. His tutors had given him the voice of a statesman at least.


    The King spoke back after a long-winded introduction ¨C his voice grave and solemn ¨C and Ida translated. ¡°You are bidden to rise, Madam Zhao, of the Shuli Go order. Rise and hear the charge you are brought to arbitrate.¡±


    Lian rose to a kneeling position, and made instant eye contact with the King. He looked his twenty years - young, almost baby-faced - but with extremely serious eyes that met Lian¡¯s without hesitation. Eyes that knew a level of responsibility the rest of his face tried to hide.


    She rose all the way to standing, and the King spoke again.


    ¡°The King welcomes you, Madam Zhao,¡± Ida spoke, ¡°And invites you to arbitrage between the two families who have claims to the royal bed. Do you accept?¡±


    Lian nodded, keeping her eyes locked with the King¡¯s. ¡°I do.¡±


    Ida translated, and the King immediately entered into another long sentence, of which Ida waited until the conclusion to translate entirely.


    ¡°The King understands the Shuli Go owe allegiance to the law above all other concerns. The King wants to know if that is true? And if so, to what do you defer if the law is indecisive?¡±


    Lian thought for a split second. ¡°The Shuli Go have a simple creed,¡± she responded. ¡°It does not work all the time, but it¡¯s the hierarchy we are trained for. The law first, then good, then right, then truth. The law is the good of all, the good is the rightness of many, the rightness is the truth of the one, and the truth is the basis for the law.¡±


    Ida repeated the old maxim of the Shuli Go, and Lian began her absorption of the Wamaian language, picking out the repeated words and saving them away for later. When the translation was finished, Lian thought she saw the smallest smirk on the lips of the King.


    ¡°I see.¡± he said through Ida. ¡°Then tomorrow you can start at the beginning. With the law.¡±

 Part 7

    The room given to Lian for her adjudication was cold and palatial, and also her sleeping quarters. Her bed was against one wall, adorned by four posts and draped by green silks embroidered with gold. Seventy feet away were arched windows fifteen feet tall that looked into the inner courtyard and the final wall that led to the castle. The room was on the third floor and the windows faced east, and when the sun crept out from behind the Wamaian mountains dozens of miles away, they bathed the room in a warm, pleasant glow.


    That first day though, Lian had already been awake for hours before the sun appeared. Agitated, she¡¯d practiced her sword techniques in her own clothes before changing into the courtiers clothes provided to her, only to change back and go through the first twenty sword sequences all over again.


    Lian hated when she had a task that went along someone else¡¯s schedule. She had wanted to start studying the Wamaian legal texts the previous night, but Ida had insisted she would require a staff of experts and translators, all of which was true but none of which made Lian any less restless. Instead of repeating the same movements a third time, she wandered the length and width of her room, observing each grey stone under her feet and in the walls, and the few other furnishings they had left her: a large desk tilted slightly to make for easier reading, a solid wooden chair at the correct height, a small chest into which she had put her clothes and sword, two small bowls of wine and water, a much larger jug for defecation, and the ten foot tall door that separated her from the rest of the world. She likened herself to a prisoner who knew she would have to get very familiar with every contour of her cell. As important a role as she was told she would play, she did not get a sense of overwhelming friendliness or accommodation from the Wamaians. She was there to do a job, and she would not be made privy to any more of Wamai than she needed to do it.


    The first of the servants arrived at sunrise with tea and buns. She dismissed them at once and invited in the first of the experts and translators, anxious to finally get to work. She knew exactly how she wanted them set up ¨C the lead scholar in the chair, a second legal scholar on one shoulder and a translator on the other, while Lian paced behind them, listening first to the original Wamaian and then the translation, and absorbing. Their books arranged in order of importance, she would start with the oldest, most important texts and then listen to their advice on where to proceed next.


    That was the plan at least.


    Compared to Imperial law, Wamaian was simple, chaotic, and nuanced. The Imperial legal papers Lian was familiar with from the Empire were broken into four categories, each one building on the other in a pyramid of expectation: from the prescribed rites at the bottom, which were primarily proscriptive, to the legal code at the top, which described the greatest crimes that warranted specific and exact punishments. Justice, each Shuli Go was taught, flowed like water down this pyramid in a constant flow that ensured the greatest crimes were treated uniformly, while the lower levels left room for interpretation and the diversion of liquid where it was most needed.


    Wamaian law was closer to an epic poem: each case wandered from statute to statute, each law interjecting its one small piece to the narrative, until the decision was arrived at not through any interpretation, but close, careful reading of the text in the correct order. Lian¡¯s head filled quickly with cases of precedent, ancient texts which were in some cases not even legible in the modern version of Wamaian, and the overlapping claims of superiority of one law over another. Books did not pass onto the table in a linear show of importance, but were instead criss-crossed to and fro as different aspects of the law emerged. It reminded her more of the logic puzzles Imperial bureaucrats had to master for their entrance exam than anything she¡¯d actually dealt with before.


    Eight hours in, she was certain of almost nothing. She ate in silence with her translators and scholars, going over the dizzying amount of information she¡¯d been presented. And this was only one case.


    Eight hours after that meal, she had a better grasp on things, as the story of the legal situation began to take shape in her mind. However the sun had set and she had exhausted her translators and scholars, mostly old men who had expected to spend a few hours, at most, in her chambers. She sent them out as the third meal of the day arrived. Ida arrived with it.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°So have you solved it yet?¡± Ida laughed, sitting across from Lian on the ground and pouring her tea in an intricately detailed set of ceramic cups.


    ¡°Not quite¡­¡± she let her sigh dangle across the food between them as they held their tea cups aloft and then sipped them in time. The food in the palace was significantly better than what they¡¯d eaten on the road: the King had good taste for food at least. Not least of which was beef, which was grazed infrequently in the Empire owing to the large amounts of land cows required ¨C the grass in Wamai was evidently more robust. The dish she shared with Ida was a thick slice of that beef, fried and mixed with vegetables and sauce, then poured atop a type of thick noodle she had not had before. It was delicious. She grunted.


    ¡°What? Not good?¡± Ida inquired.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s delicious. I was just thinking about what a difference a week can make.¡± She examined Ida again, and considered how much to confide about her precarious position back in the Empire. His face was inquisitive, but not judgmental. He knew more than she¡¯d meant to let on. ¡°A week ago, I was scrounging for berries and struggling to catch enough crappy game to keep from starving. Now, I¡¯m eating meals fit for your King.¡±


    Ida nodded as he slurped a noodle. He chewed and swallowed before speaking. ¡°Things are as difficult for Shuli Go as we have heard, then?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯ve heard, but it¡¯s not easy. We weren¡¯t trained as wanderers. We were trained to make a long commitment to our Go ¨C our people. Many of us lived our whole lives in a single division, a single Go. We saw generations of boys and girls grow up, get married, have children, and die. And we would watch after their children and grandchildren. Shuli Go were in a position of trust. And earning and keeping that trust was key to everything we were taught. Now we are forbidden from keeping any position, or even staying in any one place, for more than a few months. Shorter if the magistrate or prefect take a disliking to us.¡±


    ¡°But you are trained well. Tell me, have you learned our tongue already?¡±


    It was Lian¡¯s turn to nod, though more out of respect for the quality by which Ida had been informed. ¡°A little,¡± she replied in Wamaian. Ida laughed.


    ¡°That is good, but your accent will need to be perfected if you¡¯re going to present your verdict to the King in Wamaian.¡±


    Lian chuckled ¨C she¡¯d underestimated Ida significantly. He¡¯d seen this entire sequence play out before he¡¯d even met her, and of course he¡¯d known that one of the magic properties of the Shuli Go was a vast improvement to their memory ¨C all the better to identify and remember the face of a perpetrator, or the scene of a crime ¨C a skill that was also well suited to memorizing a new language. She eyed Ida carefully as she ate her food: she was glad he appeared to be on her side. So far she had the guarantee only of Hoji, back on the edge of Wamaian territory, that she would not be mistreated if she did her job well. She wanted an ally in Ida, so she thought she, too, would play a little game with him.


    ¡°And what about you?¡± She asked. ¡°What¡¯s the life like for a former Clan leader turned politician?¡±


    ¡°He survives, quite well. And grows fat,¡± he laughed, patting his belly, which was neither soft nor too large.


    ¡°And he keeps his sword well maintained, if what I saw on the way into Karuto is any indication. Do you still practice?¡±


    ¡°A Wamaian warrior never forgets the way of the sword. Or the thrill of battle.¡±


    ¡°So you train still?¡±


    He put down his bowl, and sipped his tea carefully. He was on to Lian, but she didn¡¯t care. She knew that he was aware of the Shuli Go prowess with a sword. He would take her bait, because to avoid it would be dishonorable.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Then perhaps you¡¯d do me the honor of teaching me the true spirit of your country.¡± She sipped her own tea and smiled.


    Ida chuckled. ¡°Yes, yes, I thought you would never ask.¡±


    And so after they had digested their food, and Ida had drank the wine left out for Lian, they taught one another the first movements of their respective weapons. The Wamaian blade was shorter, curved, and sharpened on only one side of the blade. The movements were quick, powerful, and brusque. Lian showed Ida the first five sequences of the Shuli Go, and their focus on grace and redirection. She explained how Shuli Go were first taught defense, the way to use the longsword to protect the vital organs above all else. Ida dictated the root of Wamaian training, that balance between attack and defense was the only way to achieve either. Ida had two large torches set up in the middle of Lian¡¯s huge room, and they took turns showing the techniques they had learned as children, and perfected on battlefields, in the flickering, pale light.


    When he finally left the sun was only a few hours away, but they both knew Shuli Go needed only half the sleep of a normal person to achieve the same clarity of mind. And Ida was a politician, fat and lazy and entitled to sleep in as long as he wanted. They bowed goodnight to one another, exhausted but satisfied. Lian undressed herself and fell into her large, soft bed. Sleep claimed her.

 Part 8

    Lian sat behind her table ¨C well ordered and with the applicable tomes atop ¨C facing the entryway, her hands clasped on top of the table and her face set in the calm and attentive mode she reserved for trials and combat. Her translator stood at the door and opened it at her command, as the first of the two families entered to present its case.


    Five days she had studied the texts and worked with the translators to build an understanding of the legal precedent. Five evenings she had eaten and traded combat techniques with Ida. At night she slept in the happy exhaustion of a hard day¡¯s work.


    Over the five days she had pieced together the basic shape of the law. Under the reign of his father, and at the age of six, the King had been betrothed to a daughter of one of the smaller Clans, who was herself only two years old. They were to marry on his twentieth birthday, which was considered late for such an important position, but necessary given the level of education the King was set to receive. The original Clan¡¯s name was Korosura, and they owned land to the far northwest corner of Wamai ¨C a small strip of land rich in both farming and fishing rights. As seemed to be the Wamaian way however, the Korosura lands were engulfed in war, their clan completely defeated and their land confiscated, by the Suru Clan.


    ¡°The honorable Lady Kaoru and Lord Tokugawa of Clan Suru,¡± her translator announced as the man who had stood before the King in red armor and pained face walked through the archway and made his way towards Lian. At his side was a small, plump woman in an elegant dress, also the rich red of the Suru Clan.


    One of Wamai¡¯s oldest laws clearly stipulated that the property acquired through warfare was the legal right of the victor. In this case, the marriage agreement could be considered property, and the victorious Suru clan inherited the right to marry the King when they defeated the Korosura. This was the case Lian expected Kaoru to present.


    ¡°My lady,¡± Lian greeted her from behind the table with a slight nod of the head. Lian had been coached in the expected customs in the five days.


    ¡°My¡­lady¡­judge.¡± Kaoru responded in a sweet, soft, and melodious voice, accompanied by the appropriate bow. Her awkwardness came from the fact that there was no appropriate word for female judges in Wamaian.


    ¡°Please, my lady, present your case,¡± Lian said in Imperial, prompting the interpreter to step in and begin the proceedings.


    A longstanding tenet of marriage disputes was that the women to be married always presented their own cases. Lian had not been surprised to find Wamaian law held women just slightly above property in most cases, and the role they played in court proceedings was minimal except for the fruits of matrimony: the marriage, the divorce, and the children. Lian knew Lady Kaoru would have been coached in every detail of what to say that day, to a fault. The words would not be Kaoru¡¯s at all, but those of her uncle: Tokugawa. Normally Lian would cut out the middleman and deal directly with the Clan patriarch, but she was playing the Wamaian¡¯s game, and had been warned repeatedly about breaking the formal procedures set out for this kind of case.


    ¡°My lady judge. A thousand graces on you and your family. I am here today to assert my and my family¡¯s true claim to the right of marriage with our illustrious King Hojo. Sixteen years ago, Clan Suru brought justice and stability to the lands formerly owned by the Clan Korosura¡­¡±


    The Korosura lands¡¯ troubles were not finished after the Suru clan invaded however. Later, after Suru had grown and conquered other Clans, they had lost the Korosura lands in a short war with the Odo Clan. Which meant that the Odo could claim that the original agreement for the hand of the King was made with the land, and that Odo should claim it, rightfully owning the land as they did. The contract for the betrothal was simplistic, and written in personal terms between the then-prince and his future wife. The tie to the land, however, was generally understood to be implied, albeit not expressly stated in any of the Wamaian legal texts.


    ¡°¡­and as I¡¯m sure your honor can see, the Suru family is Wamai¡¯s most prosperous and prestigious. If there is a family more fitting of a marriage with our glorious King, I would freely admit it, however¡­¡±


    Lian listened, but found it difficult to pay attention to Lady Kaoru¡¯s lilting, gentle tone, which seemed to invite her into distraction. Her focus was further disturbed by the knowledge that Tokugawa, in full armor and regalia, stared at Lian the entire time. Halfway through Kaoru¡¯s opening monologue Lian began to feel an acute awareness of her sword¡¯s placement halfway across the room, by her bed. She kept her vision on Kaoru, but her other senses were finely attuned to Tokugawa¡¯s complete immobility. She wasn¡¯t even sure he blinked.


    ¡°I see,¡± Lian said through the interpreter after Kaoru had finished. ¡°And what evidence do you have to support your claims to the marriage contract?¡±


    Kaoru bowed again and unfolded the many hems of her dress to reveal a fat, tiny hand which clutched a tied scroll. ¡°The original copy of the contract itself,¡± she smiled, ¡°taken from the castle of the Korosura when my glorious uncle claimed it for his own.¡± She presented the scroll with a bowed head. The interpreter took it and placed it in Lian¡¯s hand.


    In Wamai, contracts were a sacred thing. Written records of money exchanged for future goods and services went back even further than the oldest records in the Empire. Scrawled on stone and carved into wood that was then petrified, the legal tomes Lian had read were filled with analysis and interpretations of contracts. But one thing they were in agreement on was that the holder of a contract was always in the best position to collect. Kaoru¡¯s smile was that of a warrior delivering a fatal blow early in a battle.


    Then a flourish of movement and Kaoru produced another document from somewhere in her robes, with another fabled history concerning its source. Then another. And another. Lian¡¯s desk filled with paper treasures and heirloom trinkets, each one with some tenuous connection to either the King or the Korosura clan. A piece of the Korosura¡¯s daughter¡¯s supposed dowry. A portrait of the King as a young child supposedly delivered to the Korosura clan to inform the young woman who she would be marrying. None of it mattering beyond the performance: the display of the things with the flapping of her dress and the way she held them out with both hands for the interpreter to pick up and move from those hands to the table. Lian grew tired of it and stopped listening, even as her face remained placid and attentive.


    ¡°And how will you serve the King if you are confirmed as his bride to be?¡± Lian asked the final of the questions she knew Kaoru Suru would have been prepared for. She didn¡¯t even listen to the answer. She kept Tokugawa in her peripheral vision, all her attention lavished upon him and his own unwavering return of the attention.


    ¡°Tell me, Miss Kaoru, do you love the King?¡± Lian asked in Wamaian.


    Finished with formality, she moved to put the Suru clan on the defensive. And she knew it worked, if only because the girl¡¯s uncle actually moved, a slight rustle in his shoulders and his eyes grew even tighter in their grip on Lian.


    Kaoru herself paused a second before her two decades of training in the dangerous field of political warfare surfaced and she gave the answer that reeked of a balance between truth, saving face, and self-preservation.


    ¡°I am a servant of the King, and love him as all his servants do. He is the one anointed by our ancestors, by heaven, and by the suite of heavenly warriors and poets.¡±


    ¡°Interesting you should bring up poetry, my lady. Do you write it?¡±


    Kaoru again hesitated, and Tokugawa shifted his weight, his agitation increasing. The question had nothing to do with the topic at hand, and Kaoru was unsure how to make that point without appearing to insult the King¡¯s chosen judge.


    ¡°Of course I am well trained in poetry. It is a noblewoman¡¯s duty to express the beauty in our world.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°And would you write the King poetry if he asks for it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady judge, of course I would. I would do anything the King commands.¡±


    ¡°And if he commands you not to marry him?¡±


    Finally a step forward from Tokugawa, any semblance of self-control disturbed, his eyes alight with the flame of insult. It finally gave Lian the social opportunity to look him straight into those eyes and show him that she was not intimidated. They held the stare for several seconds, during which time Lian could feel the tremble of the interpreter next to her.


    Kaoru, too, had had enough, and finally spoke with the real fire of the Suru clan: a threat.


    ¡°Then, my lady judge, I would go unwed until the next King sits on his throne.¡±


    Lian smiled, straight at Tokugawa, and nodded. ¡°Thank you, Lady Kaoru, for explaining your Clan¡¯s side of this disagreement. I have no more questions for you.¡±


    Kaoru bowed to the floor and retreated out of the room. Tokugawa, forced to cede his staring contest, was none too happy to leave without Lian¡¯s head. When he did exit the interpreter swallowed hard and muttered a swear Lian would ask Ida about later that night.


    ¡°Hm. There is no direct translation. It is shorthand though. It is asking for a quick and merciful death. It is uttered by those who fear another kind of death may be coming for them.¡±


    ¡°You might want to give that interpreter a short vacation then.¡±


    ¡°Tokugawa has killed men for far less. Even in the King¡¯s castle. He could challenge you to a battle of honor.¡±


    ¡°Then he¡¯d die.¡±


    ¡°I have seen your skills, Zhao, and they are many. But Tokugawa is one of the fiercest warriors in all of Wamai. It¡¯s not just his armies that other clans fear.¡±


    Lian shook her head with a smile, having met dozens of men just like Tokugawa in her day. ¡°There isn¡¯t a warrior in the world that could defeat a Shuli Go one-on-one.¡±


    ¡°Prove it,¡± Ida smiled, standing up from the wine and water they were drinking after an hour spent discussing Lian¡¯s interview with the Surus. He rattled his sword in its sheathe and smiled. ¡°You have shown me the techniques, now show me how they work.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°Need I remind you that you have not seen my techniques in action either?¡±


    ¡°True enough. Perhaps we can use practice weapons then.¡±


    ¡°If you wish.¡±


    Ida summoned two wooden swords, both the Wamaian curved type. Lian held one of them in her hand and felt its weight ¨C it was shorter than Lian was used to, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t matter. They lined up against one another and performed ceremonial bows from their different homes across the continent. And then Lian beat him.


    Not just once, and not because he lacked skill or strength. For a warrior-turned-politician, she was amazed at his speed and accuracy with the heavy wooden blade. But her Shuli Go enhancements were simply too much. He almost touched her with the blade once or twice, but only when she was taking it easy on him, to avoid wounding his pride. Finally after she¡¯d delivered a potentially lethal blow for the tenth or twelfth time, he collapsed on the ground, sweating and exhausted.


    ¡°Stop. Stop. I yield.¡± He rolled over onto his back and his chest heaved with the strain. ¡°I have never yielded since that day they took my lands away. But you, Shuli Go. You are too much. I have never seen anyone move the way you do.¡± Lian knelt next to him and smiled.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel too bad about it. You¡¯re quite good.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true what they said. You have the strength of ten men.¡±


    ¡°Two, actually. Well, for women it¡¯s three. Our muscles are made twice as thick and dense as yours. Three times as much for women. Between that, our reflexes, the enhanced vision and senses. It¡¯s not a fair fight. Not for you. Or Tokugawa, if it came to that.¡±


    ¡°Tokugawa has never fought fair in his life.¡±


    ¡°You would know better than most, Korosura Ida.¡±


    Ida breathed deeply a few more times, and Lian worried bringing up his role in her case might anger him. But her instincts were correct. She had chosen a moment of physical weakness in order to reduce the emotional pain her words might cause.


    ¡°Actually it¡¯s Ida Yatanabe. I lost the Korosura name when they stole my lands.¡±


    ¡°Took. By your own laws they took them from you fairly.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Took. Sorry, my Imperial must have failed me.¡± They both chuckled at the lie.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to influence your decision. The King could kill you if you deliver the wrong verdict.¡±


    ¡°Even if that verdict set your family honor back, and denied the Surus a chance to tip the balance of power permanently in their favor?¡±


    ¡°What do you know of the balance of power in Wamai?¡±


    ¡°Only what you¡¯ve told me, and what I¡¯ve learned from the case. Tokugawa is not a good lord. His peasants are treated poorly. He fights without honor. And he seeks vengeance instead of justice.¡±


    ¡°Ok,¡± Ida nodded and took a deep breath, ¡°you know enough.¡±


    ¡°Did you think I wouldn¡¯t figure out who signed the contract with the old King?¡±


    ¡°Listen, Zhao,¡± Ida¡¯s breathing slowly calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly, though his arms and legs were still splayed with exhaustion. ¡°I was to be the King¡¯s father. His father was an old man when we signed that contract. And he chose me not for the lands or anything else, but because he knew I would help his son become an honorable man. I have done that. Our King has grown into a good one, and the fact that I had to see that growth as a Minister instead of a father would not have mattered to the old King. And it does not matter to me. I have seen him become a man, and he is a good man. That¡¯s all any father could ask for.¡±


    ¡°And your daughter? You never got to see her become a woman.¡±


    ¡°No. Tokugawa had his men kill both of my daughters. Innocent women, both. We are an honorable people in many things, but victory is not one of them.¡±


    ¡°And now you¡¯ll let me marry your adoptive son to Tokugawa¡¯s niece?¡±


    ¡°I do not allow anything. The King allows it. And the King has asked you to be impartial. Remember that tomorrow, when you speak to the Odo Clan. They are a good family, and just nobles. But that is not what you have been asked to judge.¡±


    Ida rolled over and up onto one knee, so that he and Lian were face to face a foot apart.


    ¡°You are not here to settle my old disputes for me. You are here for the King. Remember that. Remember that tomorrow.¡±


    The next day Lian did as instructed and remembered her role as the Odos entered her hall. She ensured her face and hands were in the same position of calm as the day before, no hint of favoritism or inflection as she asked the same questions she had of the Surus. In every way she would appear the same to the claimants. The difference lay inside, where Lian cared less about the particularities of the responses and more the sense of the respondents.


    Megumi Odo was the opposite of Kaoru Suru in appearance and demeanor. A short, thin, even waifish woman, she smiled easily and spoke with a naivety only recently overcome with political aspirations. Her response was no less well rehearsed, but she was haphazard about it, stalling and starting as she struggled to remember exactly what she¡¯d been told to say.


    ¡°Our family now owns¡­ that is to say, we are shepherds, of the lands formerly¡­cared for, by the Korosura Clan. These are the lands the King was vowed to, not just a woman ¨C a woman who has¡­ passed along to the¡­great heavens ¨C and not just a family. The land is the source of us all, and we now care for those lands which are spoken of, um, that is to say, written down, in the marriage contract.¡±


    If it had been any other situation, Lian would have given the woman a cup of wine, told her to relax, and cracked a joke to set her at ease.


    The thrust of the Odo Clan¡¯s argument was that the marriage was actually a service the Clan offered to the King, just like taxes, levies, and religious offerings. These types of services were bound to the land, and not any specific people on the lands. As the rightful current owner of the Korosura lands, they were the only ones who could legally provide the service.


    The senior Odo was Megumi¡¯s brother, a young, handsome man, his hair short and his jaw strong and chiseled. He too stood quietly beside his female family member and watched silently. Unlike the Tokugawa though, his attention was purely on his sister. He obviously had not wanted to put so uncomfortable a woman in this position, and he winced noticeably when she stumbled over her words. More than the outcome, he cared about the process he was putting his sister through.


    There was some support for the Odo Clan¡¯s interpretation in Wamaian law. After times of war, the warrior caste would often have to marry down a class in order to repopulate their numbers. These marriages were legally considered a service required by the lower classes. And, since the King was obviously a higher class than anyone else, the act of marrying him must be considered a service handed down the echelons of nobility.


    ¡°Tell me, Lady Megumi, do you love the king?¡±


    Megumi smiled her reflexive, unsure smile ¨C a weak defense mechanism that would not serve her well in royal courts. And she thought about the answer for a good long while before she responded.


    ¡°I do not know the King well, my lady judge, beyond what my brother has told me and what everyone knows. But everyone says that he is a good man, and I am sure I would grow to love him if that is true.¡±


    ¡°And if he is not a good man? If everyone has lied to you?¡±


    ¡°¡­Then I would still be a good wife to him, in service to Wamai, my family, and our lands.¡±


    ¡°Do you live on these lands now, Lady?¡±


    ¡°I do, my lady judge.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about them. What do they look like?¡±


    Megumi looked to her brother, who nodded encouragement, before smiling again and reciting a poem that did not rhyme when the translator turned it into Imperial.


    ¡°On the shores of Bay Calmridge, the men grow tall and the cats roam free, and the sun plunges into the water and smoke of purple and green arise, and as the mists come up from the sea, they make clouds that haunt the moon and shelter us from howling wolves.¡±


    ¡°Poetry, Lady?¡±


    ¡°It is the only way I could think of to describe it. It is a wonderful land.¡±


    ¡°I imagine it is.¡±

 Part 9

    They came for her in the night, two days later, just before she was to deliver her verdict. Well rested and fed, they didn¡¯t surprise her this time. She awoke as soon as the first foot came in the window, but she didn¡¯t react. She wanted the King¡¯s men to feel as though they were the peerless, utterly silent assassins everyone in the Empire thought them to be. She let them surround her bed, and she didn¡¯t even pretend to wake up when the door was opened and the King walked in. She waited until he was standing at the foot of her bed.


    ¡°My liege?¡± She asked, her eyes still closed and her body still on its side, a perfect pose of sleep.


    The assassins pulled their blades all at once, twelve shorter Wamaian swords pointed at her vital organs. The King, however, was in on the joke.


    ¡°Ha! Very good,¡± he said in Imperial that was the exact mirror of Ida¡¯s. ¡°I expected nothing less from the Shuli Go. Please, rise.¡±


    Slowly she rotated onto her back and then sat up. The assassin blades were only inches away from her face, and even her reactions would not save her if they decided to pounce.


    ¡°What can I do for you my King?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your King,¡± Hojo responded, standing over the foot of her bed in a deep purple cloak, a grin on his face. A face so twisted by years of politics and plotting she couldn¡¯t tell if the grin¡¯s origin was from genuine amusement, or from holding her life in his hand. ¡°But I do have a couple of questions for you.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be looking to influence my decision tomorrow would you? It¡¯d be absolutely unheard of for a King to meddle in the affairs before his court.¡±


    The King¡¯s laugh was high and easy, practiced too, but not artificial. ¡°You¡¯re funny, Imperial. I like that. I really have too few funny servants.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to serve your liege.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve gathered. Word is you¡¯d read all the texts and mastered our language in only three days.¡±


    ¡°Five, actually.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Even better. Three is almost too much to believe.¡±


    ¡°To be honest,¡± Lian said in Wamaian, ¡°I¡¯ve just now started feeling comfortable in it. And I still can¡¯t read it very well. Your people have done something weird with the characters.¡±


    ¡°Yes, an innovation ¨C if you want to call it that ¨C of one of my predecessors. We took the letter system of the Huan and the Imperial characters and turned it into something completely illegible to either. One of our great successes.¡±


    ¡°Well at least you know how to cook. I¡¯ve found the food to be one of the best successes I¡¯ve seen here.¡±


    ¡°Really? I¡¯ve had nothing but Imperial dishes the last few years. You have much more spice in the food than we manage.¡±


    ¡°Your beef is¡­ exquisite.¡±


    A puzzled look came onto the King¡¯s face. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know if that was a come on just now, but¡­¡±


    Lian blushed and switched back to Imperial to avoid any further unintentional entendres, ¡°I assure you, your liege, it was not. I was merely¡­¡±


    The King laughed again, then pivoted and sat down on the edge of the bed. ¡°As much as I enjoy making you blush and discussing international cuisine, I did have serious questions for you.¡±


    ¡°Of course, your liege.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve come to a decision?¡±


    ¡°¡­Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve chosen Clan Suru?¡±


    ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you wanted me to.¡±


    The King rocked back slightly, the grin returning to his face. ¡°Did I?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Lian explained. ¡°When you had me stand in front of your court and recite the Shuli Go code. You already knew what the outcome would be. Your own legal experts had already told you the Surus had the contract and the precedent. You just needed an impartial party to come in and deliver the verdict. So you could give the appearance of having fought against marrying the Suru Clan without actually fighting the Suru clan. I got that much after the three days.¡± The King''s grin widened. ¡°May I ask something though, your liege?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Why? Why go through the farce of an independent judge if you¡¯re going to marry their family anyway?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The King¡¯s face turned more serious, and his eyebrows lifted. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the surface of the ocean, Imperial, and I admit you¡¯ve seen it very clearly. But you don¡¯t know the way the waves are pulling beneath the surface.¡±


    ¡°Is it true what Ida told me? That the Surus treat their peasants poorly? That they fight without honor? I don¡¯t understand how a family like that could prosper in a place like this.¡±


    ¡°In short, Shuli Go, it¡¯s because weak men allow them to.¡±


    ¡°¡­And you think you¡¯re one of those weak men?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯d help Tokugawa by marrying his niece?¡±


    The King shifted again and started the conversation anew. ¡°Tell me, Imperial, what is the life of a peasant worth in the Empire?¡±


    ¡°¡­It depends.¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    ¡°On his skills, his talents. His lands, if he has any.¡±


    ¡°The average peasant then, the one with no education, no skills. The kind that works a plot of land that barely keeps him alive once the taxes are collected and the local magistrate has stolen his share. What is his life worth?¡±


    ¡°Almost nothing.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. And in your travels through our country, you saw how our people lived, did you not?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Better, or worse, than your average Imperial peasant?¡±


    ¡°Better. Much better.¡±


    ¡°Right. Then believe me when I tell you that the average peasant who lives under the Suru Clan is twice as poor and miserable as your average Imperial peasant.¡±


    ¡°So I ask you again, why are you going to give him any advantage? Why not declare the contract void and marry the Odo woman?¡±


    ¡°Because it works. What Tokugawa does, it works to make him and his army almost unstoppable. In the last fifteen years he has doubled the taxes the average Wamaian pays. They work their people to the bone for their own greed, and it has worked. All those taxes pay for weapons and supplies for his armies. His army and that of his allies is stronger than the rest of Wamai combined ¨C better fed, better supplied, and better trained. They are unstoppable.¡±


    ¡°So you don¡¯t even try? Is that the honorable thing to do?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the King hung his head just slightly ¨C just enough for Lian to recognize the suffering that accompanied this admission. ¡°But it is the Kingly thing to do. Every day I avoid open warfare is a day another peasant father passes away peacefully in his bed, as opposed to on some horrendous, blood-soaked battlefield. Every night there are children born who are not raised under Tokugawa¡¯s banner, children who go to sleep well fed and healthy and happy. I hold off the inevitable as long as I can, Imperial, because that is the only option I have open to me. That, or follow in his own path, tax the shit out of the peasants and drive them into poverty, all so that I could protect them, from what? What they already live under? No. Any way I act, they suffer. So I¡¯d rather keep them from suffering under Tokugawa for as long as possible. That, my Imperial guest, is the honorable thing to do.¡±


    Lian took a moment before she dropped her head and responded, ¡°It¡¯s like Ida said. You are a good man.¡±


    The King¡¯s grin came back and it was his turn to flush slightly.


    ¡°What did you think of the Surus?¡± He asked, clearing his throat and standing up taller.


    ¡°I hated them, all told. The woman, especially, pissed me off.¡±


    Another round of laughter from the King. ¡°Ah yes. Lady Kaoru Suru. A pathetic little snake, that one.¡±


    ¡°If you ever want someone to kill Tokugawa for you, I¡¯d be willing to volunteer too. I don¡¯t think he took to me the way you did, your liege.¡±


    ¡°I have plenty of ways to kill someone,¡± he motioned to the assassins still pointing their swords at Lian¡¯s sensitive parts, ¡°but there are fifty more like him back on their lands.¡±


    ¡°I could kill fifty Tokugawas.¡±


    ¡°I believe it. Ida said you beat him pretty soundly the other night. Wooden swords, but still¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°Ida could defeat any one of these assassins, I¡¯m ashamed to say. A forty three year old man who¡¯s been wounded six times is still deadlier than my own bodyguards. You think you could take all of these ones?¡±


    Lian finally looked at the men at the handles of the swords: dressed in all black, with minimal armor and black paint on their faces to blend into the shadows. She looked them in the eye, one at a time, gauging what she found there.


    ¡°Not in this position,¡± she finally responded.


    ¡°But with a sword, on an open field? The six of them surrounding you? Think you could do it?¡±


    ¡°¡­It depends.¡±


    The King¡¯s grin returned, ¡°You¡¯re not a simple woman. You understand the many shades of gray that exist in the world. You¡¯ve had to make those tough decisions, where people¡¯s lives hang in the balance. I thought if anyone could understand why I¡¯m doing this, it would be you.¡±


    Lian dropped her head straight down, letting her hair, loose and unbraided for the night, fall into a cave into which she could push her thoughts. When she looked up, she said simply ¡°I¡¯m not a King and I never will be. I¡¯m an agent of the law, but I don¡¯t write it.¡±


    King Hojo nodded, then looked Lian right in the eye and held her gaze for a long time. Lian didn¡¯t look away, but she wanted to. Finally she had to ask.


    ¡°So do you kill me?¡±


    ¡°Why would I do that?¡± He responded, not breaking their stare.


    ¡°Because this is your final chance. An impartial judge, slaughtered in her sleep, by the treacherous Suru Clan who were upset that they were about to lose their case. It makes for a pretty good reason to call all your allies into the war. It might even have just enough treachery in the mix to sway a few of the Clans who are second-guessing the Surus. But if I¡¯m still alive tomorrow, and I deliver the verdict you told your court I would last week, that¡¯s it. You¡¯re married to her in a month, and then after that, who knows?¡±


    Hojo¡¯s grin transformed into the pursed lips of consideration, and he nodded sagely this time, as if everything she had just said was coming to his attention for the first time. It was not.


    ¡°I see. I send the guard to arrest the Suru clan for your murder, they resist, I kill them, and then I spread word all through the Kingdom. A sound strategy, I have to admit¡­¡±


    Lian picked up on the dangling end of the sentence, ¡°¡­except¡­?¡±


    ¡°Except two things. One. It is almost winter, and winter is a bad time to start a war in Wamai. And two. It¡¯s not the honorable thing to do.¡±


    The King stood up off the edge of the bed and swept his purple robe around him as he headed to the exit. The assassins backed away slowly before following him. Lian sat in the bed and watched him go before calling out to him.


    ¡°Your liege!¡±


    He turned on his heel and looked back at her. ¡°What is it?¡±


    She got up and took a few steps toward him. ¡°There was one reason I considered the Odo Clan for you tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°And what is that?¡±


    ¡°The girl. Megumi. You two would be a good match.¡±


    The King laughed again, full bodied and hearty this time. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°The King¡¯s allowed concubines right?¡±


    ¡°Once I¡¯m married, yes.¡±


    ¡°Take her for one. She smiles easily, the same as you. And she said she would love a good man.¡±


    The King smiled and then left.

 Part 10

    The next morning in the King¡¯s throne room once again, Lian knelt and swore an oath of truth before announcing her verdict. The smile on Kaoru¡¯s face was almost enough to make Lian vomit. The rest of the court, stoic as they appeared, knew this was a point past which the King would not be able to return. The lines were now cast and the path was set, all that was left was a war, inevitable and likely short. The entire court, including Ida, seemed resigned to it, and the rest of the pomp that accompanied the announcement of the upcoming wedding felt hollow in comparison to the politics at play.


    Lian was simply waiting for her chance to be dismissed so she could leave this place before she was embroiled in any more entanglements. Waiting, that was, until the King once again turned his attention to her.


    ¡°Imperial!¡± He called for her, and she walked back into the center of the large hall.


    ¡°Your liege,¡± she bowed to the floor once again.


    ¡°Rise, please. It is time for your reward.¡±


    Living had seemed reward enough considering the climate in the room, but after rejecting the very idea of a reward the customary three times, Lian acquiesced, ¡°Whatever your liege would bestow upon a humble creature such as myself, will be accepted.¡±


    The King clapped his hands and from the side entrances came men bearing four chests on wooden poles, each chest large enough to hold a goat. When they were placed on the ground, the men carrying them opened them, revealing mounds of gold.


    ¡°A small token from the King of Wamai.¡±


    Lian froze. She had held a sack of ten golden Imperial coins once, on a simple courier contract to get the money from one part of the country to the other. She had owned a gold coin once, for all of a day, before being forced to break it to its constituent silver and copper for food. Wamaian gold coins were twice as large. And she had four huge chests worth.


    ¡°I¡­ I am unworthy, your liege.¡±


    The King laughed again, setting the court slightly at ease. ¡°I know gold is sparse in the Empire, but here it¡¯s our only form of currency. Trust me, Imperial, this is not very much money for serving a Wamaian king.¡±


    Lian bowed once again, placing her face into the ground to hide the mix of giddy excitement and sheer terror at the thought of having to transport that much money back into the Empire and staying alive the whole way.


    ¡°And one more thing,¡± the King said. Lian again stood up, to see Ida approaching, a long object wrapped in a dark felt cloth in his hands. ¡°Minister Ida told me you were quite fond of Wamaian weapons.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Ida stopped in front of her and unwrapped the velvet, exposing the sword with its plain gray scabbard and handle.


    ¡°Our very best steel. Dusted with a new metal our smiths have just begun working with. Stronger than anything you have in the Empire. This sword has taken our masters six months to make. You could cut down a mountain with this sword. I trust you¡¯ll make good use of it, Shuli Go.¡±


    Lian looked up into Ida¡¯s eyes and saw that he, too, had acquiesced into her decision, even though part of him desperately wanted her to turn that sword on Tokugawa that very moment. She thanked him with her eyes and was dismissed from the court.


    After redressing out of the formal court clothing, she met Ida in one of the adjoining chambers. He gave her the sword then and encouraged her to try it out. It was lighter than Ida¡¯s had been, and it was weighted perfectly with either one hand or two. Its edge was sharp and it gleamed beautifully in the mid-morning sun.


    ¡°Thank you Ida.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. You did a service to our kingdom.¡±


    ¡°I should leave though, before the Odo clan comes after me. Or the Suru for that measure.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve bought peace for a while. Nobody should want to kill you. At least not until they rewrite the history scrolls and turn you into the psychotic Imperial who almost murdered the king and tried to disrupt the rightful marriage they were promised.¡±


    Lian smiled. ¡°Still, I should go. The mountains must be covered in snow by now.¡±


    ¡°It will be by the time you arrive, but don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be going alone.¡±


    ¡°¡­You?¡±


    ¡°As I told you, we have very few visitors here. I¡¯m to see you to the border.¡±


    Lian smiled, glad for the company, as well as the guards that would accompany her and her gold. What to do when they returned to the Empire was another problem altogether however. Even then, though, Ida could be a help.


    ¡°Ida. Would you assist me before we go?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Take half of one of the chests. As a gift. Something to help you and the King.¡±


    ¡°That is quite a lot of money for you, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Too much, actually. There¡¯s no way I make it a hundred miles into the Empire carrying that much gold. If I don¡¯t hire mercenaries to guard it, mercenaries will take it. If I do hire mercenaries, the Empire won¡¯t appreciate such a large force walking around protecting a Shuli Go.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t quite understand. Would the Empire not protect you and your earnings? Could you not buy yourself a position?¡±


    ¡°Most people could, yes. But not a Shuli Go. I have to keep moving.¡±


    ¡°Of course I will help you.¡±


    ¡°Good then, thank you.¡±


    They left that night, two carts with two chests each, twenty soldiers, and Lian and Ida on their horses. The path back was a longer one, meandering and winding and their pace lazy. When Lian had questions about the cities they passed or the landscape, about the people and their customs, Ida would answer and they filled their days with good conversation and food. Their nights they saved for the sword, as Ida finished instructing Lian in the Wamaian blade, granting her more and more complicated maneuvers until she gradually came to understand the intricacies of the sword. She continued to wear her Shuli Go longsword on her back, and from that ride on she wore the Wamaian sword on her left hip, in Wamaian fashion. And that was why the poets came to call her the Two Bladed Shuli Go.

 Part 11

    When she rejoined Jiang in the small town where she¡¯d first met Ida, he was understandably floored by the amount of gold she showed him.


    ¡°One of the chests is yours,¡± she told Jiang. His mouth fell so hard and fast Lian could swear there was permanent damage.


    ¡°From almost getting you killed to a chest full of gold. You¡¯re a pretty forgiving woman Zhao.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have any gold if it weren¡¯t for you. A quarter is more than a fair finders fee.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll say.¡±


    They departed then, their horses and carts girded for the long trek into the trio of mountain ranges as winter had come in. The snow came down so thick and high that the soldiers who maintained the road worked around the clock to keep it clear. It was cold, but they stopped often at roadside fires and were dressed in the warmest clothes Wamai could offer.


    When they reached the border, Ida said his goodbye in the traditional Wamaian fashion ¨C a bow, and a grasping of forearms. Lian instinctively pulled on his arm and hugged him, and whispered in Wamaian in his ear. He was crying when they parted.


    ¡°What did you say to him?¡± Jiang asked.


    ¡°I told him it¡¯s not too late to start a new family.¡±


    They managed to convince the border guards that the half-chest of gold Ida had helped with was more than enough of a tax, by offering those same guards a few of the Wamaian coins. Those border guards were going to be the richest men in that corner of the Empire. Well, almost the richest.


    They returned to the Three Paths Inn and found Zu, the keeper, drunk. Winter had driven out the travelling customers, and the locals that came around during the day didn¡¯t care if Zu could stand or not. Lian walked in, grabbed Zu by the neck, took him outside, and tossed him into the horse trough full of freezing cold water.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Sufficiently awake, she proceeded to lay out her terms.


    ¡°I have here half a chest worth of gold with our name on it.¡±


    ¡°Our name?¡± He asked, still quite drunk but trying very hard to not be.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. You see Zu, you, me, and Jiang are going into business together.¡±


    ¡°We are?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m buying you out of this inn, because frankly you¡¯re terrible at running it. And then I¡¯m going to walk over to the magistrate¡¯s office in Forest Meadow and incorporate a new company with three partners. And this half-chest of gold is going to be our capital. And then you¡¯re going to stop drinking, learn some customer service skills, and fix this place up better than it¡¯s ever been.¡±


    It took Zu¡¯s alcohol-soaked brain a few seconds to understand and refute. ¡°But this place is a shit hole. No one comes here. You¡¯d be throwing your money away buying an inn like this.¡±


    ¡°I have a feeling trade with the Wamaians is going to be picking up in the next little while. All sorts of merchants and treasure-seekers are going to be winding up in Three Paths. And they¡¯re going to need a place to sleep and it¡¯s got to be more decent than what you¡¯re offering right now. So fix this place up or I¡¯ll kick you out of the partnership and you really will have nothing to do but drink.¡±


    Something ¨C whether it was the abruptness or the fact that she was Shuli Go, or just a woman ¨C worked, and Zu the innkeeper never drank again. Jiang, as a merchant who worked in that part of the Empire, would collect Lian¡¯s share of the profits, and keep an eye on Zu to ensure he wouldn¡¯t pour all the money down a wine bottle.


    The business permit itself cost another half-chest ¨C the magistrate came out the richest of any of them, when the amount of work invested was put into consideration. Lian and Jiang decided to travel together back towards the more populated centers in the Empire, his standard merchant carts and paperwork acting as good enough cover for the remaining gold. They just hoped they would remain ahead of the magistrate¡¯s gossip of a Shuli Go and merchant with thousands of gold coins in their carts.


    ¡°You¡¯ve only got one and a half chests left Zhao. What are you going to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Half a chest, once we get to a proper city.¡±


    ¡°Where is the other chest going?¡±


    ¡°I have a debt to pay with that one.¡±


    ¡°Must be some debt.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea.¡±