ã€ŠTales of the Three Kingdoms [LitRPG, Strategy, Kingdom Building]ã€‹


 Chapter 1: A New Father Awaits the Birth of a Son and Asks for a Reading of the Will of Heaven

    ¡°There are layers to every history,¡± said the Commandant. ¡°Like a tower built atop a palace, built atop a city, built atop a tomb. Now I finally build a new layer for my clan.¡±

    He stood upon the highest platform of the iron tower for which the small city was named, eyes cast upward at the great dome of heaven. The few wispy clouds hurried across the night sky, chased by a persistent wind until the stars shone, immaculate but somehow¡­ lacking.

    ¡°Histories-emperors. All-follow-the-Mandate-of-Heaven. The-stars-will-tell. The-stars-always-tell.¡± The Philosopher had a way of mumbling in a voice so low you weren¡¯t sure if he was here or elsewhere, speaking to you or merely of you, to forces you couldn¡¯t see. He was the same age as the powerful warlord beside him, but while training and an austere life had left the Commandant looking younger than his middle years, the Philosopher seemed to have aged prematurely, weighed down by his role in interpreting the will of Heaven.

    The Commandant fixed the haggard young man with a glittering gaze, the closest the iron warlord ever came to smiling. ¡°And what do the stars tell? Where are they tonight, on this eve of my firstborn?¡±

    The Philosopher¡¯s eyes remained on the sky for a long while, longer than was usual, which made the Commandant scowl. The interpreter of Heaven''s will shouldn¡¯t have even needed to look to the sky. The Philosopher was supposed to know where the roving stars would sit on any given day, beginning two thousand years ago, and stretching forward two thousand years hence. Finally his eyes flicked toward the Commandant but would not hold them. ¡°The-roving-stars-have-scattered. Their-spaces-lie-vacant-in-the-sky.¡±

    ¡°Vacant?? No. That must be a mistake.¡± The Iron Tower began to creak with the man¡¯s powerful Silver Star Mandate.

    ¡°Man-is-ever-powerless-before-the-changing-of-the-stars.¡± A brief expression of sympathy crossed the Philosopher¡¯s face, as if he only just now realized that there were people on the other ends of his pronouncements. It was the only hint that the gaunt young man was, himself, wholly human.

    The Commandant was not mollified by this. ¡°Consult your charts. The sky cannot be empty on the night of his birth. Look again.¡±

    The Philosopher made no move. He shouldn¡¯t have said anything in the first place. Had he simply made his pronouncement and left, it might have ended there.

    The metal tower groaned beneath them and the Philosopher thought the Commandant¡¯s Mandate might tear it down beneath their feet.

    ¡°Consult. Your. Charts,¡± he repeated, a cold edge to his voice as he made a sharp gesture to the platform beneath them. The stenciling in the top of the metal tower was so intricate, so elaborate, that, open to the sky as it was, it appeared to be a reflection of each and every star that hung above them. But the Commandant knew the map showed only the stationary stars. The five most powerful stars ¨C those multihued ones that roved the sky ¨C could not be committed to any map. Those five were depicted encircling the sky-map in the order of the cycle of elements.

    The Philosopher fixed the Commandant with a weighing stare, but when neither backed down, the Philosopher simply sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were as black as the night sky itself. His eyes mirrored the abyss above and he began to move across the top of the tower as if in a dream, seeing yet not seeing.

    ¡°Silver-star-of-honor-justice-and-sky-metal. Absent.¡±

    He shuffled to a different place upon the tower, pinpricks of light wheeling in his eyes as he shifted his cosmic gaze. But where he stopped, again there was nothing but darkness.

    ¡°The-black-star-of-water-depth-and-wisdom. Absent.¡±

    The stars wheeled, and then again the Philosopher¡¯s eyes went black.

    ¡°The-green-star-of-life-leaf-and-root. Absent.¡±

    Each pronouncement fell like a hammer blow upon the Commandant. But each time he saw for himself the emptiness in the Philosopher¡¯s eyes as they looked at where the roving stars should have been.

    ¡°The-red-star-of-fire-and-passion. Absent.¡±

    Hours ago, the head of the Silver Falcon clan would have been disappointed if his own Silver Star had not been present on the birth of his assumed heir. But now four of five stars had chosen to look away from the birth of his child. Now, he was no more than an expectant father pinning all of his hopes on the last pronouncement of a wise man. Now, the Commandant was desperate for anything but blackness.

    ¡°The-yellow-star-of-earth-balance-and-honesty.¡± The Philosopher paused for a long time, scrutinizing the sky, eyes darting this way and that, and in the end, he mumbled, ¡°Absent.¡±

    The Commandant blinked. He blinked again, as unreadable emotion flitted across his face. Finally he spoke. ¡°But he must have a Mandate from Heaven. He cannot be powerless. It must be one of them.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The Philosopher shook his head and blinked the darkness from his eyes. He appeared once again like a young man worn thin by a heavy burden, though perhaps now the nature of his burden had changed.

    ¡°If a child were born without a Mandate,¡± the Commandant went on, pacing the tower, ¡°What would that mean?¡±

    The Philosopher barely moved his lips as he spoke. ¡°A-child-born-without-the-will-of-Heaven-cannot-be-allowed-to-live. For-they-are-without-power-and-grace. They-are-Accursed.¡±

    The Commandant halted and looked to have been kicked in the gut. Powerful men did not respond well to being kicked. He drew himself up. ¡°No. No! My son was born under the black star! He must have been! He must have a Mandate or¡­ Or¡­¡±

    At the clenching of the Commandant¡¯s fists the tower shrieked and lurched beneath their feet. When the tower steadied itself, the Commandant¡¯s anger evaporated. A cold iron mask had slammed down across his features. When he spoke again, he sounded as he always did; as cold and clinical as a surgeon¡¯s blade.

    ¡°The black star is fickle. You cannot see it in this light. My report to the Emperor will leave no room for doubt. Be sure that yours does the same.¡±

    The Philosopher¡¯s eyes flicked to the Commandant again. The Philosopher was favored by Emperors and peasants alike, welcomed in all houses great and small, despite his strange ways. He did not like being told his own business. But there was no hope for it. The Commandant was currently one of the Three Excellencies, and an Imperial Protector of three provinces, besides. As such he outranked all but the Emperor¡¯s own household. The Philosopher had no choice in the matter... not if he wanted to leave with his head.

    ¡°Cast the coins,¡± ordered the Commandant.

    The Philosopher winced. Even a man at the height of his power, even a man so high in the ranks could do nothing to coerce fate.

    ¡°Cast the coins, I say. Perform the reading.¡±

    The Philosopher reluctantly drew out his coin purse, selecting three common disks of bronze. He looked to the Commandant once more, whose eyes bored into him. The Philosopher sighed, bent to the surface of the tower, then with swift, jerking motions, scattered the coins. Once, twice, three times. Again and again he scattered them, counting their values and converting them to prophecy.

    ¡°Solidline.¡±

    ¡°Brokenline.¡±

    ¡°Solidline.¡±

    ¡°Brokenline.¡±

    ¡°Solidline¡­¡±

    With the last casting of the coins, the wind picked up across the plains, buffeting the two men atop the tower. The bronze disks bounced and caught the wind. One moved across the tower¡¯s surface and skidded to a stop just before the edge, one flew from the tower into the darkness of night, and the last caught an edge of the stencilling and began to spin in place. So long as the wind blew, it showed no sign of slowing.

    The Philosopher watched this all with horror, but the Commandant, a man of might and metal, martial prowess and war materiel, knew nothing of portents.

    ¡°Well?¡± asked the warlord.

    The Philosopher blinked, eyes casting about in all directions, everywhere but meeting the Commandant¡¯s eye. Finally, with stiff motion, the Philosopher shook his head.

    The Commandant parroted the motion, as if trying it out could give him some insight into its meaning.

    ¡°No? What do you mean, no? What is the child¡¯s fate?¡±

    For the first time, the Philosopher met the Commandant¡¯s eyes and spoke clearly. ¡°The child has no fate.¡±

    The Philosopher looked to that one coin, still spinning in the center of the star-map, the bronze ringing against the iron platform. The Commandant followed his gaze.

    The Commandant grabbed the gaunt young man and shook him. The Philosopher would not meet his gaze, could not tear it from the coin.

    ¡°Cast them again,¡± ordered the Commandant. The wind picked up, the coin spinning faster, ringing louder. ¡°Cast them again!¡±

    The Philosopher shook his head, pulling away, finally tugging himself free and fleeing from the tower.

    Somewhere far below, amidst the ringing of the coin, a newborn child began to wail.

    The Commandant wrote the report himself, registering the new child with the Emperor¡¯s Minister of Heralds. The messenger went out that very night on a swift horse of silver.

    Then the lord of Iron Tower went down to the smithy, where a man with skin as burnished as the metal he worked forged and stenciled a tiny bar of bronze. The Commandant watched as he did so, barely allowing the metal to cool before snatching it away.

    Only then did he go to the child, wailing in the arms of a nursemaid.

    The Commandant looked questioningly toward the birthing chamber, its door closed and silent within. The nursemaid shook her head then held the child out to her lord, nodding encouragingly.

    The Commandant stepped back and did not take the child, but placed the bronze pendant on a thong and held it out before the child in the ritual of naming. If the nursemaid was shocked by this break with tradition, this bestowing of a name so early, she too was of iron, and ensured her face betrayed nothing before her lord.

    ¡°If you are to live, you will have a hard life,¡± said the Commandant. ¡°You will be as a sparrow among falcons, surviving by the speed of your wit alone¡­ or dying quickly and mercifully in the talons of your betters. Prove to me you are worthy of life, and I will grant you my kingdom. Fail me, and we may all come to wish I had heeded the Philosopher¡¯s warning.¡±

    With that, he placed the bronze bar around the babe¡¯s neck, and turned it to face the light. It read:

    SPARROW

    Rank 1: Peasant | Worth: 50 dan

    Clan: Silver Falcon | Star: Black | Fate: None | Mandate: None

    As he turned his back on the city, it might have been the Philosopher''s imagination or it might have been the creaking of the tower in the wind, but somewhere far above, he thought he could hear a humming, humming, ringing, spinning, just beyond the reach of his senses, like a coin waiting to fall.

 Chapter 2: A Wolf, a Lion and a Tiger All Hunt the Same Quarry as a Falcon

    Like many people in the Land Under Heaven, I was dropped into this world with no powers, no allies, and not having a clue how anything beyond my immediate purview worked.

    It''s called being born a peasant.

    Some people get a kindly nurse or even a ferocious mother to raise them. Not me. Some people get a father or a mentor who protects them, guides them, makes them their heir. What I got was a commanding officer.

    So after almost two decades of grinding my way up from Rank 1: Peasant to Rank 5: Cavalry Officer, I thought I had things figured out. To a young man, five years and five ranks feels like more than enough to know something about the nature of war.

    But for all intents and purposes, I may as well have been dropped onto those yellow plains from another world when the three rebel generals assembled their armies in force and finally made their play for the Land Under Heaven. Below, on the field, men wielding powerful Mandates clashed. Above, on a rocky outcrop, a boy with none watched.

    ¡°A shrewd move by the leader of the Grey Wolf,¡± I said.

    We waited in cold silence, our horses whinnying when the wind carried the smell of fresh blood up to our vantage point. The banners upon the field were innumerable, the melee below indecipherable.

    Uncle, mounted beside me, chewed on his whiskers while he surveyed the battle. Eventually, he shook his head. ¡°A foolish move! He¡¯s backed his wolves against the rocks. They¡¯ll break if they¡¯ve got nowhere to go.¡±

    My gaze flicked past Uncle, to my father, who made no move to involve himself.

    I decided to double down. ¡°Aye, the wolves have nowhere to go,¡± I conceded. ¡°But they know it. They fight harder for their desperation. They¡¯ll stand.¡±

    Atop a distant outcrop opposite us, a gray banner flew, the personal standard of the man called Dreadwolf, head of the Gray Wolf clan. So high above it, he would be seeing the battle as we saw it, not a clash of sweating, bleeding, shitting men, made of flesh and iron and wood, but as a gameboard, with some pieces to sacrifice and others to maneuver towards victory, or short of that, achieve some strategic objective for his clan.

    But Dreadwolf knew well that this was no mere game of chess. No pawn left the board willingly. Placed between an insurmountable cliff face and the overwhelming rebel army, the Grey Wolves had no choice but to fight as if there was no retreat, no surrender, no alternatives.

    ¡°They¡¯ll hold,¡± ruled my father, and my chest swelled with pride. Commandant, as he was called, had once claimed that highest military rank in the empire, answering only to the Emperor. Among his clan or within his holdings, his rule was law.

    ¡°But such a waste of men,¡± grumbled Uncle. "These upstarts..."

    Bolstered by my last victory, I wasted no time in responding. ¡°Noble Lion knows that. Already his infantry moves to support.¡± Sure enough, a second army had closed upon the backs of the dusty, seething rebels. Well-armored and well-equipped, Lion''s infantry was the hammer against the anvil, and the rebels began to falter.

    I smiled but my father¡¯s gaze flicked to me and my armor creaked, constricting my chest just enough to cut off my air. The invisible grip released me almost as soon as I realized it and my father¡¯s attention returned to the battle below. Chastisement? Or warning?

    Ironically, or perhaps prophetically, my father had been called ¡°Commandant¡± long before he had achieved the rank. Perhaps even as a boy he had exuded power ¨C martial power, physical power, and that special kind of power Mandated by Heaven.

    I had been right. And yet my father wanted me to hold my tongue?

    Perhaps it was because I was always a quick study. Maybe it was because distinguishing myself in the classroom had earned me my first promotion in rank, and military study specifically had earned me another not long after, when I had passed the Civil Service Cadet¡¯s exam. Now, I felt as if I surpassed even Uncle despite his years of fighting experience. Perhaps it was because, in a world where people could call down storms with a wave of a hand, or crush metal plate with a gesture, being right was all I had. For whatever reason, as several more of the Emperor¡¯s armies closed upon the rebels, I couldn¡¯t help myself.

    ¡°If we delay any longer, there¡¯ll be nothing left for us! We need to signal a charge before Noble Lion finishes it!¡± I directed this toward my father, but it was Uncle who responded.

    ¡°Committing cavalry to that mess?¡± Uncle snorted. ¡°We¡¯ll be mired. And if the Generals slip out we¡¯ll have wasted five years.¡±

    Five years¡­. Five long years we had hunted the rebel brothers who styled themselves the General of Earth, General of Flesh, and General of Heaven, who ransacked the Emperor¡¯s granaries and pulled the peasants from their fields, then disappeared like dust before the Imperial Coalition¡¯s forces could martial against them. My father had placed me in the cavalry when he had first drafted me, but it had taken him five more years to trust me with a command of my own. Now, here I was, knowing that this was the best plan to trap the generals and end the war, but still my father heeded Uncle¡¯s council over mine. And why shouldn''t he? Uncle was a Rank 18: Grand General, and bonded to him by an oath of brotherhood besides.

    ¡°Father, if we don¡¯t move now-¡±

    The invisible hand closed upon my chest again, tighter this time, and my lungs found themselves suddenly unable to expand and draw breath. My panicked eyes rolled to my father. The Commandant¡¯s glance was casual, almost lazy, and I knew he could end my life with barely a nod.

    ¡°Boshe¡¯s right,¡± he said, using Uncle¡¯s personal name. ¡°See that man over there?¡±

    He nodded toward yet another rise just beside the one we waited upon. ¡°That¡¯s the Tiger of the Southlands. They say he¡¯s a descendant of Sun Tzu. As soon as the rebels break, he¡¯s going to sweep in and take as many rebel heads as he can. If he kills three or even just two of the rebel generals himself, he¡¯ll be labelled a Hero of the Times. He¡¯d be ranked higher than even the Emperor. If we commit now, and the generals leak out in another direction¡­¡±

    Another significant look, and he released his hold on me.

    ¡°So¡­¡± I said, chastened and rubbing my chest. ¡°We¡¯re not here to just win the war.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re hunting.¡± Uncle harrumphed. ¡°So we don¡¯t move until the Crimson Tiger does.¡±

    He held out a gauntleted hand with a crumpled roll of parchment, which I took.

    ***SILVER FALCON CLAN MISSION BRIEFING: BATTLE OF THE YELLOW PLAINS***

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Primary Objective: Ensure all three rebel generals are not captured by the same Imperial warlord.

    Secondary Objective: End the rebellion.

    Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Earth.

    Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Flesh.

    Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Heaven.

    Fail Condition: The Imperial Coalition breaks.

    This was out of order compared to the one the entire coalition had received from the Emperor. Then again, this was a Silver Falcon Clan Mission Briefing, one to which only my father''s closest council was privy. And as a mere cavalry officer, I had not received a copy. Was Uncle being helpful by sharing it with me, now? Or gloating? Proving that he was right because he was a higher rank and had access to the real story?

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°No one,¡± said my Uncle, cutting me off, ¡°flies faster than the Silver Falcon. Not even the Crimson Tiger. Isn¡¯t that right, boys!¡±

    ¡°Aiaiaiaiai!¡± came the ululations from the men at our backs. Our horses began shuffling nervously in the dust.

    The Tiger of the Southlands¡¯ crested helm turned, not toward the battle below ¨C peasant rabble held no fear for one such as him ¨C but towards my father. As I watched the distant figure, red cape streaming in the wind, he looked every bit as powerful as a tiger. It wasn¡¯t just his build, but in the way all of his men oriented around him, yet gave him a wide berth, as if he were a beast in the jungle that exuded an aura of both fear and wonder. But despite that, did I see in his posture a sense of¡­ wariness when he beheld my father?

    After all, my father had been ranked above him. The man called Commandant had only abdicated the rank when the rebellion broke out, preferring to lead his own forces into battle instead of a contingent of the Emperor¡¯s.

    My father noticed my careful regard of the Tiger and nodded approvingly. ¡°War, Sparrow, is not survival. Fighting is survival. Battles claim lives. But war is so much more than that. War is what you believe so earnestly that you would rather slaughter your kinsmen than give it up. Done poorly or foolishly, it can very quickly become, yes, a struggle to survive, as it is for the rebel hordes, as it is for the three rebel generals at this very moment. But for warlords, the real battle has nothing to do with that rabble, and everything to do with men like the Tiger, the Lion, the Wolf. It¡¯s a competition to rise above the others and ascend to new heights. In that, the Silver Falcon is no different from the rest of them on these yellow plains, willing to wager our lives and our lands for a chance at immortality within the Imperial ranks.¡±

    Finally, I realized my mistake, the first I had made since earning this new rank for which I had fought so hard over the last five years. Winning battles wasn¡¯t important. Gaining from them was. By heaven! Uncle had said this wasn''t even a battle, but a hunt! It could have been a council meeting, or a wedding, or a conversation over tea. My father had been trying to tell me that the maneuvering of my words and my wits against Uncle was every bit as important as the maneuvering of horses and blades against the rebels, and because he had needed to say it out loud, explaining it to me like a child, I had lost face as an officer.

    I glance over to where a gaggle of my father''s administrators stood near to hand. Half of them watched my father motionlessly, ready to execute any orders he might give that couldn''t be signaled via battle flags. The other half scribbled furiously, recording every word for posterity, since the eve of battle. Every lesson from my father, every mistake I made, every foolish thing I said would soon be written in stone. Some percentage of them were spies, of course, and would deliver their reports about me, my father, my uncle, my clan to other warlords, perhaps even to the Emperor himself.

    I set my jaw. There was no help for it, now. Uncle was too high a rank for me to challenge, directly. He had my father''s ear, he had access to information that I didn''t, and if it ever came down to it, he had the loyalty of thousands of men. Until I was a higher rank, I would just have to be that much smarter.

    My attention snapped back to the cavalry around me, when, as if by some unseen signal, all our armor started to rattle and horses began whinnying in barely restrained fear. A tightness again gripped me, although this time it wasn¡¯t the deliberate focus of my father¡¯s Mandate, but the residual aura of five thousand men reaching for their heavenly gifts at exactly the same moment.

    Five thousand elite warriors, all born under the Silver Star, all blessed with the Mandate of Heaven and granted extraordinary powers, in various forms and to varying degrees, over the element of honor and justice, over the essence of metal. To them, the aura of combined power would be like a wind beneath their wings. To me, one without power, it felt like air whistling by as I dropped from a great height.

    I turned back to the battlefield to see what had caused them to all reach for their gifts at the same time. Three warriors ¨C lowly Green Skirmishers by the looks of it ¨C had gotten ahead of the other Imperial armies and were even now punching deep into the heart of the enemy, where the rebel leaders, priest-generals of the Army of Supreme Peace, sat atop starving, half-dead steeds. I couldn¡¯t see or sense the aura of those Green Skirmishers in the lead, but I knew no ordinary men could cut such a swathe of death and destruction through so many.

    Not to be outdone, the man they called Noble Lion stepped in front of his own Golden Infantry, crude earthen stairs rising up to meet his feet with each step and giving his soldiers platforms from which to stab or fire down. Once he was towering above the surrounding battlefield, alone atop a stone tower that hadn¡¯t been there a moment ago, he knelt and plunged his sword downward, twisting it like a key that unlocked the very tumblers of the earth. A wave of stone blocks rose up to either side of him, rolling outwards until it seemed that a great fortress was twisting out of the earth to encircle the entire battlefield.

    Seeing a trap of colossal proportions closing, the rebel leaders kicked their horses into a full gallop, dust clouds rising in their wake, trampling their own soldiers who didn¡¯t get out of the way quickly enough.

    The Tiger¡¯s helmet flicked toward us for a moment, then returned to the battlefield.

    ¡°This is the lesson, Sparrow, you can only learn from a great battle like this,¡± said my father. ¡°Study, training, military strategy. It¡¯s all preamble to the clash between heroes. What good is a formation if three Green Skirmishers can cut through a million men? What good is a carefully chosen field when a lion can grasp the earth beneath your feet and change it on a whim. Battles can be won by wits and wisdom but the fate of the Land Under Heaven will always rest in the hands of the strongest Mandates.¡±

    My stomach dropped. He was telling me flat out, that without powers, I would never amount to much more than I am now. If I never manifested a gift, I would never be his heir. I fixed my eyes to the battle below, willing some powerless, rankless peasant to reform his men and make a stand that mattered. As I watched, I prayed the Commandant was wrong, but I knew he would not be.

    Noble Lion¡¯s walls were rising faster than any peasant could react. For a moment it seemed as if the rebel generals, too, would be crushed where the earthworks met. But at the last moment, their mounts seemed to glide forward at inhuman speed. The Lion¡¯s power suddenly faltered as another Mandate was directed against the same earth and stone. The last earthen block meant to complete the encirclement suddenly exploded outward as the rebel generals rode clear through Noble Lion¡¯s trap, scattering peasants, Golden Infantry, and Green Skirmishers alike.

    I looked back toward the Lion atop his self-made tower, and I could see puzzlement in the way he held himself, even at this distance. Then he shrugged and withdrew his sword from the earth. He turned back toward his own men fighting the remaining rebel horde, seemingly content with what he could gain by orchestrating the route.

    ¡°The General of Earth is mine, Boshe.¡± My father barely moved his mouth as he spoke.

    ¡°Capture the General of Flesh or take his head as proof?¡± Uncle mumbled in the same subtle manner.

    My father grunted an assent.

    ¡°And me?¡± I asked, turning to my father.

    The Crimson Tiger kicked his men into action the moment I spoke, no, the moment I moved.

    ¡°Ach! Rearguard,¡± my father snarled. ¡°Now, Boshe!¡±

    Nearly five thousand white, gray, and silver horses lurched forward with impossible speed, forced to a full gallop in the span of a heartbeat by the bits in their mouths, the metal shoes on their hooves, and armored saddles cinched at their bellies. The sound of four hundred horses launching into battle on the wings of their riders¡¯ power was an earsplitting shriek, and I did my best not to wince as the Screaming Cavalry rode past me, down onto the field.

 Chapter 3: Silver Falcons Race for Glory Against a Crimson Tiger; a Sparrow Refuses to Stay Grounded

    Upon the rise, I stood within a cloud of dust as the hoofbeats faded, leaving me in silence with a hundred cavalrymen at my back who had just lost their chance at distinguishing themselves and rising in the ranks because their fledgling officer ¨C me ¨C couldn¡¯t hold his tongue. I sat rigid in my saddle to try to keep my shoulders from slumping. The administrators scribbled perhaps a small note about me being left behind, then I could almost feel the gaze of history shifting away from me, toward the men down on the field who actually mattered. I began to shift focus as well.

    ...Until the wind picked up, whipping my cavalry with dust and debris. A scrap of paper flew out of it to slap me in the face. With a growl, I pulled it off of me and made to cast it back into the wind, when I noticed there was writing on it. I flattened it against my saddle horn.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: DEFEND THIS DIRT!

    DESCRIPTION: You''ve been ordered to defend a patch of dirt just so that you''d have something to do. It''s very unlikely anyone will want this dirt. This dirt is nowhere near the fighting. But by Heaven you will defend that dirt like your life depends on it! It was an order; so in a way your life does depend on it.

    I growled and crumpled the inane message, glaring over at the pack of ministers. If this were some sort of joke, even they didn''t find it very funny, as they all seemed to be working diligently. What''s more, is for one of them to have stuck it to my face from all the way over there, they would have had to use a fairly specific Mandate. I could probably figure out who did it and punish them accordingly. But what good would it do me? I couldn''t just have everyone who didn''t respect me flogged; I had neither the authority nor the inclination. I decided my best hope for the future was to simply focus on the battle at hand and hope I didn''t earn any more ''achievements.''

    As we watched the glorious charge below, Uncle¡¯s horse separated from the pack, his Iron Mandate being the strongest among his men. His storm-gray threw its head back and screamed as its hooves ate up ground faster than the beast thought possible.

    Commandant, too, drew ahead of his men, but only by a nose. Whether he exhibited more restraint than his sworn brother, was less gifted in gripping horseshoes on the fly, or was focusing his Mandate for something else, I couldn¡¯t tell.

    What I could see was that up ahead the three rebel generals had fully broken free of the green and gold encirclement, and now they sped across the plain alone. One moment, their horses rode the same cloud of dust, and the next, two of them had veered off in opposite directions.

    Uncle bent to one side then, following the General of Flesh as my father had ordered. Commandant did the same, leaning the other direction toward the General of Earth.

    ¡°Your father is right not to put all of his gift into sheer speed.¡± With the bulk of the army having moved away, one of my father¡¯s administrators, Swaying Willow I believe his name was, had stepped up beside me on the berm. ¡°While your Uncle is also right to put all of his gift into his horseshoes! Hoho!¡±

    Swaying Willow smiled kindly. Like the other administrators, he was no military officer; he wore stately robes and a scholar¡¯s hat rather than armor and helm. Clearly he wasn''t one of the ones recording the day''s events, but he had likely heard everything between me, my father, and Uncle, just the same. He seemed to think he was helping by further explaining things to me, not realizing he was only making me look more like a boy in need of schooling. The only reason I didn¡¯t order him dragged back to the others and out of my way was because he seemed to be right about the impending duel of mandates below.

    A massive rock shaped like a jagged tooth shot out from the earth just in front of my father¡¯s horse, and it was only then that I saw the subtle strategy in their selection of quarry, the subtle differences in the two Silver Star Mandates.

    Thousands of riders had been born to the Silver Falcon Plains or had found their way there after being born beneath the Silver Star in the distant reaches of the Land Under Heaven. Many of them, whose Mandates had manifested in the form of wielding metal in various ways with nothing but a gesture, had found their way to my father, one way or another. And if they were worthy, they became one of his elites in the Screaming Cavalry. But to call my father¡¯s Mandate common, because others also had something similar, was like calling the ability to wield a blade common; true but reductive.

    When I saw my father¡¯s horse buck to one side as if pushed by a hand from Heaven, it was like finally seeing a master swordsman unveil his true skill¡­ or like seeing a priest finally get a response from the gods. One moment it seemed inevitable that his horse should crash into the earthen spar summoned by the fleeing rebel, and the next, my father and his horse were simply no longer on a collision course, as easily as that. Such was his power that he had moved a whole horse to the side as if it were a paper boat on a pond. What¡¯s more was that the control of the movement was so precise, so complete, the horse didn¡¯t even miss a stride. It didn¡¯t lose a single iota of speed.

    The General of Earth peered behind himself, an arrogant smile shifting to a snarl. Twice more he threw up crags of earth behind him, shooting up closer and closer to my father, and from different angles. But each time my father barely had to gesture to sidestep his horse at full gallop. In the end, the rebel leader let go of his own reins and put his full body into a motion that created a garden maze of spikes all at once, all around my father and his men.

    My father¡¯s horse danced like a spirit as he put his control over the Silver Star element on full display. Many of his men faltered in the suddenly manifest columns of earth and stone, but many more used their own versions of their Silver Mandates to produce a similar effect to my father.

    Some blasted or cut through, lending power to armor or blades with their Mandates. Others put inhuman force into horseshoes to have their mounts leap or sidestep in a motion far beyond what the beasts themselves were capable. One even shot every scale from his breastplate through the spar in front of him dissolving the stone in a hail or iron shards and another held a levitating metal wedge out in front of his horse, made from scraps magically torn from his beast¡¯s barding.

    But none wielded their gift as masterfully, as clinically as my father. With the power of his Silver Star, the Commandant was cold perfection on the field.

    ¡°Between Yellow and Silver,¡± Swaying Willow mused, as if to himself, ¡°Neither has the advantage. So the stronger man, the one with more control over his element wins.¡±

    I glanced sideways at the older man. He really thought his advice was helping. I shrugged and decided to put my own knowledge on display rather than stamp his out. ¡°And now all that¡¯s left to him is to try to outrun the Screaming Cavalry.¡±

    The General of Earth¡¯s own zeal in throwing up spars of rock had him almost topple from his horse. Realizing his Mandate could not overcome that of my father, the rebel leader gave up on trying, and leaned forward in his saddle.

    ¡°A straight race against the finest horses in the Land Under Heaven?¡± Swaying Willow snorted. ¡°I wish him luck!¡±

    I glanced at Swaying Willow and had to smile at that. Swaying Willow smiled back.

    ¡°Ah! Now see your uncle. Same Mandate, but¡­¡±

    He let it hang and I finished for him. ¡°...they are as different as two swordsmen wielding the same blade.¡±

    Swaying Willow nodded.

    Spinning soldiers of dust and clay appeared in ranks before Uncle¡¯s pursuing cavalry. Uncle simply rode all the harder, lowering his lance. Just before the point impacted the vaguely human shape of earth, it bucked forward in the veteran¡¯s hand as if it were a battering ram with ten men behind it.

    ¡°They chose their targets based on the idiosyncrasies of their Mandates, and the differences in those of their opponents.¡±

    Sure enough, the so-called General of Flesh was able to summon more soldiers faster, packing them like true soldiers standing in rank and file. Uncle could never have dodged all of them the way my father had picked his way between the more solid spires of rock. With Uncle¡¯s version of the most common Mandate from the Silver Star, he didn¡¯t have to.

    Uncle¡¯s lance shot through row upon row of hastily constructed earthen soldiers, followed by the rest of his armored horse, until the General of Flesh realized it was folly. He, too, leaned forward in the saddle to flee in earnest.

    The third rebel general, however, the self-styled General of Heaven and the ultimate leader of the entire uprising, now sped on alone, only the Crimson Tiger clan in pursuit. Maybe it was Uncle¡¯s earlier goading. Maybe it was the fact that my father still took Uncle¡¯s side, even when I was the one who was right. Maybe it was because I thought my men deserved a chance to claim a head, even more so than I did. Whatever the reason, despite my father¡¯s order, I could no longer restrain myself,

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Prepare to charge!¡± I shouted to my men, trying to keep the excitement from my voice. There were only a few hundred horsemen behind me, and they could probably all hear me, but the signal flags snapped out my order anyway. The hundreds of Silver Star Mandates gripped me now.

    Swaying Willow hadn¡¯t moved out of the way. He gave me a look that said, ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    I wavered. Could I catch the third general at such a distance, and with no gift to lend speed to my horse? Was it worth defying my father¡¯s order for such a slim chance? Was it even defiance, if he might do the same in my position, seizing upon the opportunities that presented themselves?

    I sat back in my saddle. Without some unforeseen development, I had no valid reason to defy my father¡¯s order, and Swaying Willow seemed to agree with my assessment.

    As the Tiger Clan¡¯s slower but more solid warhorses managed to get in line with the General of Heaven for just long enough to turn him back across the plains, I had my excuse, but still I teetered on the edge of a decision. If I did nothing, the Tiger would have the General of Heaven. Or worse, the leader of the rebellion would get away, getting lost in the many mountain trails to the north. The war would drag on as he rallied new allies and lured peasants from their fields. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands more would die.

    But if we caught all three rebel generals¡­ If I caught the General of Heaven¡­

    ¡°Oh, boy,¡± said Swaying Willow, hustling off to one side, out of the way of the formation.

    He could probably tell that for me, with my ambition, it was never even a choice.

    ¡°Fly!¡± I shouted and spurred my horse.

    My horse was the first to launch itself down the embankment, careening headlong toward the plains before they leveled out. That was as far as I would lead. When we hit the plains proper, the men at my back, drawing upon the powerful gifts bestowed upon them by the Silver Star, surged forward like streaks of screaming lightning. In moments I was lost in a sea of horses shouldering past my own.

    ¡°Come on, Windshear,¡± I whispered to my horse. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t help you, but I know you¡¯re faster than them.¡±

    I fell further behind the formation I was meant to be leading. I wasn¡¯t just hidden behind my own horsemen now, there was a noticeable gap.

    I gritted my teeth, leaning lower in the saddle.

    ¡°Mandate or not. We can beat them. We will beat them.¡±

    The horse I had begun training as a fowl must have sensed my desire, because, despite the power augmenting the others, my dapple-gray and I regained the pack, hanging just at the back until¡­

    The white and silver of my own clan melted away around me and suddenly I was being jostled by big, plodding blood bays, chestnuts and sorrels. I tore past grasping red gauntlets and spears that bore tiger banners.

    I smiled to myself. So many powerful Mandates and we were streaming past them all, based on will alone. I had been right. It was possible. Even the commonest sparrow can fly faster than the greatest of tigers.

    Soon there was no one before me but the Tiger of Jiangdong himself, and I was so close I could smell the Mandate of his Red Star pouring off of him. His eyes were fixed dead ahead, and there was something in his posture, in his poise, in the aura radiating from him that spoke of battle fever, of bloodlust, of the wild hunt.

    At a shout from one of his men, he turned back to regard me, and I could see the fire blazing in his eyes, an inhuman ferocity that made me want to match it. I smiled and leaned lower, burying my face in Windshear¡¯s mane as I dared to challenge the Tiger for his prize.

    I barely noticed him snarl and then saw on his reins. Windshear shot past him in a blur. There was nothing before us now but¡­

    Suddenly, as I looked forward, I wasn¡¯t sure what I was looking at.

    I had expected to see the fleeing General of Heaven, the centerpiece of the rebellion on the verge of becoming my prize. But what I saw made no sense. One moment, the rebel leader had been riding away at full speed, and now he was coming toward me on a horse as gaunt as death.

    As I watched, dumbfounded, shadows began to pool around him and spirals of black wind reached down from the sky to form an army where none had been before. No, it was a cavalry. No, it was a stampede of riderless horses made of dust and shadow, surging down from the sky, galloping toward me even before their hooves met the earth.

    In the background I only vaguely registered the General of Heaven fixing me with an evil gaze and pointing his staff at me.

    This was why my own cavalry had pulled up. This was why the Crimson Tiger clan had shouted to their leader. Only the Tiger himself had thought, for a moment, to match his strength against this, but in the end even he had chosen the better side of valor: discretion.

    I hadn¡¯t overtaken them all on will alone. I had been the only one foolish enough, so focused on the pursuit that I had forged ahead, powerless and alone, into a power even the greatest warriors couldn¡¯t hope to match.

    The horses of darkness thundered across the plains, making straight for me, spectral ranks stretching almost a full li wide. They jostled one another, split apart and reformed, their bodies spinning up in the sandstorm of their own dust trail and then reappearing even larger, bearing down on me with phantom eyes as hateful as the generals.

    So overawed was I, that I would have ridden straight into them without slowing, had Windshear not panicked. My horse slid to a halt of its own volition and reared up. It was all I could do to press myself against my mount¡¯s neck and try to hang on until all four hooves were back on the ground again.

    When the danger of falling off had passed, I flicked a glance over my shoulder to where a keening had risen up behind me, distinct from the sound of roiling wind and earthen hooves. In that split second glance behind, I saw a scene almost as strange as the stampede from the sky.

    Noble Lion and his men stood staring atop their fortifications, spears and crossbows forgotten in their hands. Many of the Green Skirmishers were stumbling as they started to break and run. The Gray Wolves stood slack-jawed, frozen in place where once they had been fighting furiously.

    But the rebels, the peasants who had risen up, with no horses or armor or lands to their names, wearing nothing more than rags, had now pulled yellow scarves up over their faces, leaving only slits for their eyes. They too seemed to have forgotten the fight, as they looked to the sky and held strangely painted rocks or shells or fossils up toward their General of Heaven, singing what might have been a prayer, but what felt like a funeral dirge to me.

    We all watched, as, from the center of the yellow plains for all to see, the rebel general put his Mandate of Heaven on full display.

    This¡­ Now this was a man who could be called a Hero of the Times. This was the type of power bestowed by Heaven, that could convince millions of peasants that there was a man more worthy of following ¨C no, more worthy of worshipping ¨C than the Emperor himself.

    Of course, it could be a trick, shadows and illusion. So I could simply let the phantom steeds wash over me, then resume the chase. Spectral hooves pounding the earth as they drew nearer told me this would be folly.

    They could be nothing but dust and clay. All I would need to do is get Windshear back up to speed before impact and perhaps I¡¯d punch right through, just as Uncle had. I began to shiver as the wind that presaged the sandstorm washed over me, and the wave of summoned stallions swelled, growing bigger than the soldiers of clay, bigger than the biggest warhorses, each one now becoming bigger than a stable as they picked up the dust from the yellow plains.

    They could be solid as rock, and my only hope of survival was to pick my way through them as my father had done, or else turn and flee for my life. But the closer they got, the more solid the stampede became and now I saw that there was no way through, no way around, no way to survive this.

    The sky grew dark above me and my teeth chattered in the sudden gloom. I looked back to where my men had retreated far out to the edge of the field. My forces were tangled among the Crimson Tiger clan. Every cavalryman I could see seemed to be struggling to get their own mount under control as the impossible, transcendent gift of the rebel leader filled the plains with horses the size of the heavens.

    In a moment of cold clarity, I dismounted and drew my sword.

    ¡°This was my folly,¡± I said to my horse. ¡°Not yours. You don¡¯t need me weighing you down any longer.¡±

    As I cut Windshear¡¯s saddle strap and released the reins, she bolted right out of her heavy saddle and armor, flying across the plains as bare as the day she was born.

    I turned back to face my doom as the colossal horses of shadow and earth bore down upon me.

    In what would be my last moments, all I could think was how lucky this man must be, how auspicious his birth must have been to wield such power. I would never know why the heavens separated men like him from men like me, before even the moment of our first breath.

    Through a last gap in the churning mass, I caught sight of him, that General of Heaven, halted in the center of the yellow plains. Perhaps it was his sneer that gave me such a sense of calm. No, not calm. Cold, vindictive rage. Perhaps it was his posturing, with his up-raised arms and his useless staff. His position among men, his power over them, his power over me, had been granted to him by Heaven, by the stars, by whatever cold uncaring mechanisms of fate ruled the laws of our land, while I fought and clawed and worked for every rank, every scrap of power that belonged to me.

    Maybe that¡¯s why I decided to spend my last moments posturing before him, despite my helplessness. I lifted my sword, pointing at him through the churning hooves that were now as big as castles.

    ¡°You¡¯re a worm striking at the heel of a dragon,¡± I whispered as if he could hear me.

    His eyes fixed upon mine, and his arms lowered. There was hatred in his stare as the sandstorm became complete, obscuring him.

    I turned my gaze upwards.

    ¡°Is this your justice White Star? That this man should live by his power and I should die by it?¡± I looked back down to the hooves that shook the earth beneath my feet. ¡°If so, I refuse to submit.¡±

    I pulled my sword back into both my hands, taking a fighting stance.

    ¡°Black Star, bear witness. If there were any sense to this world, the ones worthy of your power would live to manifest it. Hear me and know you¡¯ve wasted one who would be great.¡±

    The wind lifted, rustling the scales of my armor, making them dance like so many windchimes, or a fistful of coins cast into a breeze. I put my full weight behind my sword and stepped forward into the sandstorm of stallions that crashed over me.

    An invisible hand ripped me from my feet, driving me into the ground with all the force of a ballista bolt at close range and held me there. I had a moment to hear my own scream before all was lost in a chaos of wind and sand and shadow and rock.

 Chapter 4: The Course of the Land Under Heaven is Altered by Sparrows Play

    Windshear survived, but after the events of that fateful day, there would be many in the Land Under Heaven that wished they hadn¡¯t. I, for one, felt very fortunate to be alive. When the dust cleared, and the sandstorm stallions dissipated into wisps of spinning smoke, I could see the General of Heaven spit over his shoulder as he rode off into the distance atop his starving horse.

    My father and uncle, both having broken off their own pursuits to ride to my aid, had let their own quarry escape. The great horde of what would eventually be called the Yellow Scarves Rebellion had been crushed. Even now Noble Lion¡¯s Golden Infantry, the Crimson Tiger clan, and the Green Skirmishers under a dozen different local leaders, were organizing themselves to sally forth and bring justice to the instigating brothers. Or their heads to the Emperor. It was the same thing, really.

    The Grey Wolves retreated to lick their wounds.

    ¡°The worm bisected will regrow,¡± Marshal, head of the Tan Ox clan and leader of the coalition against the rebels had said in a missive, prior to the battle. ¡°Only once every rebel is stamped out, will the country be at peace once more.¡±

    But the Generals of Earth, Heaven, and Flesh were now a problem for someone else far above my station. Right now, I had my father and uncle bearing down upon me.

    ¡°What in Heaven was that?!¡± roared Uncle, barreling toward me and heaving on the reins at the last second to loom over me. ¡°Did you just try to cut down a sandstorm?!¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± I rose from the ground, armor scales hanging off where my father ¨C or perhaps my uncle ¨C had used their Mandate to pull me to the ground. Blood dripped from a dozen superficial wounds and a few more nagging ones. Windblown rocks had scored my back and neck, and my face throbbed where it had been pressed into the ground.

    A moment later my father pulled his horse into a tight maneuver alongside Uncle.

    ¡°What happened, Sparrow?¡± asked the Commandant, his voice hinting at barely restrained emotion.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what happened!¡± roared my Uncle. ¡°The boy overreached!¡±

    ¡°I had him,¡± I said, still dazed and finding new wounds. ¡°I just¡­¡±

    ¡°You froze!¡±

    ¡°I was-¡±

    ¡°You were shaking! Your eyes were rolled back!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡±

    ¡°Damn, Commandant! The boy¡¯s not just powerless. He doesn¡¯t just lack a Mandate from Heaven. He¡¯s an epileptic!¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°Is that what happened,¡± my father asked, voice low and unreadable. ¡°Did you have a seizure, Sparrow?¡±

    I looked from Uncle to the Commandant, and back again, my mind racing.

    Which was worse in my father¡¯s eyes: to have put a good plan into action only to be robbed by my own irreparable frailty, or to have been so utterly stupid that I had chased down a sandstorm with no Mandate to match it, and simply frozen when I realized how stupid I was? Even now I couldn''t say which was true. Something had come over me ¨C something I had never felt before. But despite all that, despite such epic and visible failure, I still held out hope of becoming my father¡¯s heir. I could still rise in the ranks, and for such purposes, to such men as made the decisions, it was better to have been young and stupid than to be labeled an invalid.

    My eyes narrowed on my Uncle. ¡°My Uncle has no love for me. He¡¯d see anyone at the head of the clan, so long as they¡¯re gifted.¡±

    ¡°I saved your life, boy!¡±

    ¡°You robbed me of my chance at the General of Heaven. If you had left me to my fate, I would have manifested. If it was just me and the General¡­¡±

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Now see here, Sparrow!¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± the Commandant snapped, then visibly regained his composure. ¡°Enough¡­ Boshe.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve lost the initiative,¡± Uncle growled. ¡°No one will come out of this with more than a single trophy now.¡±

    I looked to my father, as he seemed too distracted to reply, even though Uncle had spoken when commanded not to by his liege lord.

    The Commandant was looking into the distance, where all three rebel generals had disappeared. Moments ago I had been certain we¡¯d have two, if not all three heads dangling from our saddles. A minister finally caught up to him and delivered him a report. He glanced over it before his eyes returned to survey the Imperial coalition.

    ¡°Every clan has played a part, but every clan has failed to distinguish. All eyes are on us now,¡± my father mused. His eyes flicked back and forth, forming some stratagem in his mind that neither Uncle nor I could guess.

    As if noticing we were still there, the Commandant continued, ¡°A brick with too many sides can tumble this way as easily as that. From here on out, each move we make could put us further ahead or it could trigger a cascade effect, every warlord falling to one side or another. Or worse, they could all come crashing down on top of us.¡±

    Uncle scowled at that and I was completely lost. Too many sides? But we have an Emperor. All the Land Under Heaven is one beneath his rule! The Imperial Marshal still sits at the head of the greatest unification of power the Land Under Heaven has seen since the Great Ancestor.

    The Commandant¡¯s eyes flicked to us again and saw that neither of us understood. His eyes, now fully focused, narrowed on each of us in turn.

    ¡°Either way,¡± he said passing the report to my Uncle. ¡°Best not to let the others see us squabbling.¡±

    My father kicked his horse into another tight turn to go reform his men, leaving my Uncle and me trying to figure out what in Heaven¡¯s name was happening.

    ¡°¡®Squabbling?¡¯¡± I whispered to myself.

    ¡°¡®Squabbling?!¡¯¡± Uncle growled at almost the same time.

    I barely suppressed a smile.

    Teachers and students didn¡¯t ¡®squabble.¡¯ Lords and peasants didn¡¯t ¡®squabble.¡¯ Students spoke out and were punished. Peasants rose up and were put down. ¡®Squabbling¡¯ was something equals did. ¡®Squabbling¡¯ was something that could make or break ¡®us.¡¯

    Perhaps I had ruined my father¡¯s chance for instant preeminence among the other lords. Perhaps I had made an enemy of my Uncle, even more so than he had always disliked me. But I had sought a general¡¯s head, same as them. And though my chances of surviving that sandstorm had been slim, I had outrode the Tiger, and all the clans saw that. No one else had come closer to claiming that greatest of prizes.

    I hadn¡¯t won the battle, per se. But then again, winning wasn¡¯t the only objective.

    Rebel head or not, Mandate of Heaven or not, I was a player now in the great game of kings and emperors. I had entered the field of battle. I turned to my uncle and saw that he knew it too.

    ¡°¡®Squabbling,¡¯¡± he grumbled once more and threw the report at me as he spurred his mount.

    ***SILVER FALCON CLAN MISSION REPORT: BATTLE OF THE YELLOW PLAINS***

    SUCCEEDED Primary Objective: Ensure all three rebel generals are not captured by the same Imperial warlord.

    SUCCEEDED Secondary Objective: End the rebellion.

    FAILED Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Earth

    FAILED Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Flesh

    FAILED Bonus Objective: Capture the General of Heaven

    ENEMY SLAIN: 0 | ENEMY CAPTURED: 0 | LOSSES: 0

    OVERALL GRADE: C (Nominal Success)

    I shrugged and looked around for my own horse. Remembering the lengths I had gone to save my favorite horse, my only companion these last five years, I began the long, lonely walk back to camp.

    As I did so, I reached into my ruined cuirass and yanked the leather thong from around my neck, snapping it. I looked at the bronze bar for a long while, specifically the line that outlined my lack of fate, my lack of Mandate, and the star that was meant to provide both.

    I dropped the pendant, my boot grinding it into the dust as I strode from the field of battle.

    That line about my Mandate wouldn¡¯t change, but somewhere in the Imperial capital, in the Imperial Minister of Heralds¡¯ office, someone was updating a card with my name on it. I would need to have a new pendant forged to match.

    ***RANK UP!***

    SPARROW

    RANK 5: Cavalry Officer ¡ú RANK 6: Knight of the Provinces

    WORTH: 250 dan ¡ú 300 dan

    CLAN: Silver Falcon | STAR: Black | FATE: None | MANDATE: None

    BONDS: None | ALLIANCES: None

    DISTINCTION: A knight in the employ of the Imperial Protector of the Falcon Plains who spectacularly failed to capture the General of Heaven.

 Chapter 5: Sparrow Makes Himself Useful to the Silver Falcon Clan in an Unexpected Way

    Every warlord, every commander and every magister was tripping over each other for months, trying to be the one to put the rebel generals¡¯ heads on a spike. They still thought they had a chance of being named a Hero of the Times.

    My father and Uncle didn¡¯t seem to agree, but nor did they break camp and return to Iron Tower with their armies. They simply remained above the yellow plains, eating, drinking, resting, and running drills to keep the men sharp, as if this were all an extended hunting trip. I had no choice but to do the same.

    As I handed the wooden sword back to the quartermaster, I moved to the washbasin to wipe the sweat and dust from my body. The men I had trained against didn''t bother. They grumbled something about "using real blades like real men" as they wandered off in a group without me. I ignored them; it was nothing I wasn''t used to.

    Now as clean as one got on campaign, I returned to my tent and donned a fresh robe, then settled into my writing desk while the noonday sun slanted across it through the canvas.

    Having already read every scroll, memorandum, and scrap of intelligence available over the course of the long war, I found the waiting intolerable.

    I had begun begging my father to be put in charge of reading the reports from our scouts, spies, and messengers. Anything to keep my mind as sharp as my body. Either the reports had become so inconsequential, or my insistence had finally prevailed upon him, and he had ordered all missives brought to me directly.

    So it was, that when the message from the Marshal, stamped with the Imperial seal, came to us, I was the first to read it.

    I ran straight into the mustering ground, where my father and uncle were putting their men through a massively complicated maneuver that was probably impossible without a very powerful gift from Heaven.

    ¡°What is it?¡± my Uncle snapped, metal Mandate fading like mist before the blistering sun.

    I ignored him and addressed my father. ¡°Commandant, there¡¯s been news from the Marshal. The generals are dead. The rebellion is done.¡± There was an art to making a report to a busy clan leader. It was the first thing I had mastered when my father had drafted me, and probably the only reason he had kept me close that first year.

    ¡°All three? How?¡±

    Who-where-how. Then why you think it matters. That was the ideal format. ¡°The General of Flesh was cornered by Green Skirmishers in the woods west of Dragon Tail River. A dozen infantrymen have come forward claiming the honor but¡­¡±

    ¡°...the head ended up with Saber Oak,¡± my father finished for me.

    I nodded and bit my tongue. If they let you get to the part where you were providing your own opinions on the matter, you could slowly work your way into an advisory role, rather than that of a mere messenger. But you couldn''t force it.

    ¡°He¡¯ll receive a commendation from the Emperor," said Uncle. "But no one will believe he was there when it happened, much less killed the rebel himself!"

    "Continue," my father bade. It seemed I was still just the messenger, Uncle still the adviser. Even after all these years.

    ¡°The General of Earth was killed by his own men, who were themselves put to death for their dishonor. A commander called Brave Rooster beneath the Tiger claimed the head.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, Brave Rooster,¡± my father mused.

    ¡°Another nobody without a Mandate,¡± Uncle waved his hand in the air.

    I swallowed hard. My own Mandate had yet to manifest, despite the increased intensity of my physical training these past few months.

    My father was nodding then turned his attention back to me. ¡°The General of Heaven?¡±

    I clenched my jaw and continued. ¡°Found dead just north of here. Either he was thrown from his horse, bitten by a snake, or some pestilence caught up with him. The goatherd who found him surmised he had died months ago by the state of him, perhaps shortly after the last battle. The head was claimed by-¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t matter,¡± said my father. ¡°Finding a corpse in a field doesn¡¯t make you a Hero of the Times. Seems they¡¯ve all been hunting a ghost. Is that all?¡±

    ¡°Almost,¡± I said, turning the scroll. ¡°The Marshal is returning to the Eastern Capital to deliver the news, in person, to the Emperor. He invites all clan leaders, commanders, and Imperial Protectors of the Provinces to come to the capital.¡±

    The Commandant¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±

    ¡°Um, yes. Why? Is that important?¡±

    A smile began to crack through my father¡¯s iron visage. ¡°It means,¡± said my father, ¡°The Emperor¡¯s lost the Mandate of Heaven.¡±

    Uncle looked to my father and his eyes went wide. After a moment, he began to chuckle, then threw back his head and roared to the hot, sweating troops, ¡°Break camp, boys! We¡¯re going to the capital!¡±

    ***

    Every missive, every report, every shred of information still passed through my hands as it entered into our camp, yet still, as we began the long journey toward the capital, slowed even further by the massive retinue we brought with us, I read nothing to explain what my father meant by the Emperor ¡®losing¡¯ his Mandate of Heaven.

    There was however another scrap of paper tucked in among the stack of unread reports.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: KEEPING THE WORMS IN LINE!

    DESCRIPTION: You''ve played a small, and I mean very small, role in quelling a rebellion. In fact, you might not have even really helped. You could have actually been detrimental to your side of the conflict. But you were there! And that counts for something, right?

    I burned my latest ''achievement'' in the nearest brazier, along with the other sensitive information.

    But as I sat back at my desk, I found myself considering the prankster''s words. Despite the tone of the note, I had played a role in the quelling of a rebellion. I had given nearly six years to the effort, and I had been on the winning side. I allowed myself some small measure of pride at having just won a war. Few in history could claim the same. Even though I might have been more impactful, I was sure that in the future, with a higher rank and more authority, I could play a larger role in the grand stage under Heaven. In fact, I felt as if there was still only one thing holding me back and that was my Mandate. Despite being the son of an important man, and despite my struggle to rise during the last five years, including my most recent promotion, a Knight was still technically only in the upper half of the commoner''s class. If a Mandate could hold an Emperor back, what chance did a lowly commoner have.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    One day, as we made camp on the edge of Imperial lands, I decided to bring the question to Swaying Willow.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t the slightest idea,¡± said the kindly, older minister. He was as bored as I was, camping and riding with nothing new to read, and it appeared I had awakened him from a late afternoon nap when I had gone to his tent. ¡°People don¡¯t lose their Mandates.¡±

    ¡°Never?¡± I asked as he rubbed sleep from his face.

    ¡°Perhaps they grow weaker as they age, depending upon the Mandate. Martial men like your Uncle and Father will always have their Mandates so long as they can perform the motions.¡± His own hands shook as he put a teakettle of tarnished, ornate bronze on. I helped him get it on the hook.

    ¡°But if your Uncle were to, say, lose his right arm in battle," Willow went on, "There would be no spear-thrust for him to amplify. And your father¡¯s Mandate relies upon a gesture. If he were to lose the use of his hands, or if his fine motor skills began to degrade..." He held up his own weathered hands. "His Mandate would be greatly diminished. Even less martial Mandates require quick wits. Which I¡¯m ashamed to say, start slipping too when you get to be my age. Hoho!¡±

    He eventually poured me a cup and I took it with thanks.

    ¡°But a young man? Around my age?¡±

    The minister¡¯s eyes softened above his steaming tea. ¡°It might take a few years, or in some cases two decades, even three for it to manifest, but if one is born to a noble bloodline, on an auspicious day according to the five traveling stars, all that¡¯s left is to prove that one is worthy of the gift from heaven. Or so it is said.¡±

    Swaying Willow meant well, but once again he had missed the mark. ¡°I¡¯m not talking about me. I¡¯m talking about¡­¡±

    Suddenly I thought better of it. In the wrong ears, my father¡¯s words could sound like treason. To say that the Emperor didn¡¯t have a Mandate was to imply that he didn¡¯t deserve to be Emperor. And the Emperor, with a few very unlikely exceptions, was the highest rank that could exist.

    Swaying Willow nodded as if he understood what I was trying to say. He didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Once the gift of a star is bestowed,¡± the older man went on, seeming to revive with the tea, ¡°Whatever form it took, it can only grow stronger, more refined, more focused. No matter how weak, or inept, or evil one proved to be after receiving the gift, they could not lose that Mandate from Heaven. In all my studies, I¡¯ve never heard of someone missing their Mandate.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that I¡¯ve¡­¡± I rubbed at my temples. Swaying Willow thought this was about my own shortcomings and he was trying to console me. Maybe encourage me? In any case, there was no sense in getting angry at him, even if he hadn''t been particularly helpful. I sighed. ¡°Thank you, Swaying Willow. For the tea.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Sparrow." Swaying Willow smiled. "For the tea.¡±

    As I left the old minister¡¯s tent I couldn¡¯t help but feel more confused. Swaying Willow missed the plot sometimes, but he was the closest thing I knew to an authority on Mandates. And he said that a Mandate couldn¡¯t disappear, once manifested. So how could my father think that the Emperor had lost his?

    A few days later, as the gates to the eastern capital ¨C the entranceway to the City of Lanterns that was home to the Emperor and his court ¨C loomed on the horizon, I arrived at the only possible conclusion. But I had to be certain.

    ¡°How old is the Emperor?¡± I asked in low voice, as I rode beside my father. Uncle had taken a scouting party to the far side of the sprawling city to make sure that no unlikely surprises awaited us. This was one of the rare moments I had my father to myself.

    He didn¡¯t reply immediately. But when he did, it was the answer I had feared.

    ¡°Two years older than you.¡± His voice was flat, controlled, matter-of-fact, as it always was, but in that pause I could tell that he had measured his response carefully.

    ¡°And he has never shown a Mandate, has he?¡±

    The Commandant¡¯s face was an iron mask. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°But how is that even possible? There¡¯s no bloodline more noble than his. The conditions of his birth were as auspicious as they can be, only second to those of the Great Ancestor, in fact. Was he not tested and tried in the usual ways? I don¡¯t understand how he could¡­¡±

    I trailed off as I realized my father had turned off the road, and was leading both his horse and mine away from the column. He stopped, dismounted, and after leading his horse across empty ground for a few more paces, he bent to the earth.

    As far as anyone could tell, he was inspecting the conditions of a once-tilled field, now fallow, gauging the worth of the Ox clan soil. Any leader in any land might be interested in how much grain the Imperial capital could produce and how many soldiers it could support. But that was not what my father was interested in now.

    When I dismounted and followed, he handed me a clump of the soil. ¡°Would you plant here?¡±

    Taken aback, I sifted the soil through my hand, then bent to inspect another handful. I thought of all the people starving across the land because of the unrest sown by the now dead rebel generals.

    ¡°Only if I had no other choice,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Too much clay. Not enough compost.¡± I answered without hesitation.

    ¡°And if you did?¡±

    ¡°What? Sow anyway?¡±

    My father rose and nodded.

    I thought about it a moment, wondering where he was going with this. Like most leaders he understood the principles of agriculture, but he had only ever been interested in them insofar as they could feed his armies and how they impacted the relative worth of the various commanderies within his provinces.

    ¡°It would be hard work on the farmers,¡± I said. ¡°Oxen could do it, of course, but they aren¡¯t cheap just now. And you¡¯d be repairing the plow every few rows, so you¡¯d need someone who can work wood or metal.¡±

    ¡°And if nothing grows?¡±

    I swallowed. Now I understood, and I had played right into his hands. There was nothing I could say now to backtrack, but I had to give some answer to a direct question from my father and my sworn leader.

    ¡°I would find a way. Someone once tilled these fields. Someone once found them useful.¡±

    My father took another handful, inspected it once more, then scattered it.

    ¡°Sometimes there is no logic in these things,¡± he said, brushing his hands. ¡°Sometimes, there are no answers in history or in philosophy. Sometimes, fate is simply cruel. If I named you my heir, then were to die and make you lord of the Silver Falcon clan without a Mandate from Heaven, our people would suffer. Our legacy would suffer. Our family would suffer.¡±

    ¡°But what if-¡±

    The Commandant held up a hand. ¡°You¡¯ve been hunting, riding, studying, and training since you were a boy. You¡¯ve been exposed to every manifestation of the Black Star¡¯s essence. You¡¯ve been at war five years. You¡¯ve taken lovers, taken lives. You¡¯ve been wounded in battle and courted death as closely as any man has.¡±

    I would swear he almost smiled at that, but when he went on, his smile faded.

    ¡°Where else, Sparrow, can we search for your gift?¡±

    I had no answer for that, though I turned over every corner of my mind like so much depleted soil. Surely there was something we had missed.

    I thought too long and he answered for me. ¡°If the warlords won¡¯t wait any longer for an Emperor to prove the Mandate of Heaven, how long should our people wait for you?¡±

    Again, there was no answer to this question. Not one I wanted to give anyway.

    ¡°Who will it be?¡± I asked, instead.

    The Commandant shrugged. ¡°De, probably. Perhaps Bin if he proves sharper. When they¡¯re old enough and assuming they¡¯ve manifested, that is. Whoever it is, I expect you to support them.¡±

    I nodded, but felt as if my neck were made of lead. ¡°When will you announce it?¡±

    ¡°Two years, Sparrow. If they¡¯ve given that much time to that posh brat in the palace, you¡¯ve earned at least that much. Father to son, that is all I can give you.¡±

    I nodded again, automatically helping my father mount.

    ¡°There is a place for you in the clan,¡± my father said once I placed his boot in the stirrup, ¡°Mandate or no.¡±

    Sure, I stifled a snort, the front lines of the next battle.

    My half-brother De was young, still without a courtesy name but already cold and ambitious, just like the rest of us. He wouldn¡¯t tolerate an older brother to survive, no matter what my father¡¯s wishes. I had to prove my Mandate of Heaven, or my fate was sealed.

    ¡°Two years?¡± I asked, confirming.

    ¡°Two years,¡± my father nodded, and trotted his mount back to the head of the column, which had automatically pulled to a stop to wait for him.

    Two years. If the secret to my powerlessness got out, I¡¯d be lucky to survive that long. I could picture the mission briefing now.

    ***SPARROW''S MISSION BRIEFING: FORAY INTO THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL***

    Primary Objective: Survive long enough to become heir to the Silver Falcon Plains.

    Secondary Objective: Actually put the Silver Falcon clan in a good position for the future.

    Bonus Objective: Don''t mess up the Empire, while you''re at it.

    Fail Condition: Sparrow dies.

 Chapter 6: The City of Lanterns Begins Mourning at a Strangely Convenient Time for One Empress

    CITY OF LANTERNS

    PEASANTRY RANK: 1st

    FORTIFICATION RANK: 1st

    SPLENDOR RANK: 1st

    CONTROL: The Emperor of the Land Under Heaven

    IMPERIAL PROVINCE: Oxfields

    IMPERIAL PROTECTOR: Grand Marshal Oxblood of the Tan Ox Clan

    A spearpoint skewered the card for the City of Lanterns and lifted it from my hand.

    ¡°You¡¯re approaching a city that could have any number of enemies hidden within, and your face is buried in a book!¡± said Uncle, plucking the card from his lance-tip.

    ¡°That¡¯s an official Imperial card!¡± It had been tucked into a text on the city¡¯s history, which I quickly stowed in my saddlebag to prevent from meeting the same fate as the card.

    ¡°Then there will be plenty of copies distributed throughout the kingdom. And there will be plenty more every time anyone shits.¡±

    ¡°The Imperial card system is the single greatest feat of social engineering known to man. Every city ranked. Every person catalogued. Even famous horses, weapons, and treasures have a card. And yes, if someone were to shit atop their wall and make it that much bigger than their neighbor, cards would need to be updated, copied and redistributed to anyone who matters.¡±

    Uncle flung the card over his shoulder to be trampled in the mud. ¡°Bookworms tallying the spoils of better men. Look at the walls boy! You think a card can do them justice?! You think some bent-backed clerk can tell you what it would feel like to try to take something like that under a hail of arrows and burning pitch?! Not to mention whatever Mandates are flung at you...¡±

    The walls were sixtyspan high, encircling a city sprawling over a hundred square li. It was almost impossible to fathom such construction without many incredible Mandates, and yes, what one person with a fireball Mandate could do to an entire army from up there. But apparently, according to the text I had been consulting when I found the card, the City of Lanterns had been built almost entirely by powerless peasants.

    The book away, the city itself now dominated my field of view, looking every bit as imposing and impenetrable as it was meant to be. I had to admit, Uncle was right; there was no way a ranking system could truly capture the feeling of insignificance when faced with a construction as cyclopean as the eastern capital¡¯s fortifications.

    ¡°How many men,¡± my father mused to himself as he rode just ahead of my Uncle and me, ¡°are buried beneath our feet because they thought to take these walls?¡±

    How many powerless peasants had been crushed between the stones while building it? I didn¡¯t give voice to the thought. How many bones are encased within the mortar?

    Wailing had risen up from the gates as we approached. At first I thought it the keening of the wind, but as we drew closer, the sound of a city in great mourning was unmistakable. White banners, the color of grief, flew above the battlements. I looked from my uncle to my father, but their faces and postures betrayed nothing.

    I got no answers until we left our army camped in the fields around the city and the three of us rode under the Pristine Gates with only a small honor guard, picked not for their combat prowess, but because only members of a certain rank were allowed where we were going. I barely made the cut-off. In fact, I might not have if I weren¡¯t accompanying my father.

    ¡°The Emperor,¡± cried the official from atop the walls, with the full list of traditional titles, ¡°is ill! The suffering of his people under the scourge of famine and rebellion has weakened his heart! His Radiance names Prince Bian his successor. Long may he rule under Heaven! Long may he rule all the lands beneath it! The Emperor¡­¡±

    The crier repeated the message, and likely would until every clan leader was inside the city, the sun had gone down, and the gates had been sealed for the night.

    ¡°That was fast,¡± chuckled my Uncle.

    I looked to my uncle as my mind whirled. It wasn¡¯t too hard to come to the conclusion he had. ¡°The Emperor is being poisoned?!¡±

    Uncle shrugged. ¡°Convenient time to fall ill, don¡¯t you think? Right when the people believe you¡¯ve lost the Mandate of Heaven? Matter of fact, he might already be dead.¡±

    The Commandant nodded.

    ¡°Probably the work of the Ox Empress,¡± Uncle added when he saw that I still couldn¡¯t quite believe him. ¡°She¡¯s the sister of the Grand Marshal. On top of being one of the highest ranks possible in the Land Under Heaven, it''s said that she can poison a cup of wine just by being in the same room as it, though I don¡¯t know what star you have to be born under to get that power. Ha! Perfectly suited to court life that woman is. She was probably just waiting until her brother¡¯s army was at the gates to do it.¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s the Empress,¡± I said. ¡°Her child would be the favorite to succeed regardless. Why hurry the Emperor along?¡±

    ¡°Not what I heard,¡± said Uncle. ¡°There¡¯s a rumor that the Emperor was leaning toward his second son, by his favorite concubine. Some no-name with no power. And, listen to this. Want to guess how that concubine died?¡±

    This wasn¡¯t a hard one, either. ¡°Poison.¡±

    Uncle thumped my breastplate. ¡°Right you are! The late concubine¡¯s son, also a prince, also a potential heir, has been under the care of the Gray Dowager ever since. She¡¯s his grandmother and the sick Emperor¡¯s mother. Somehow, the Gray Dowager is the only one the Ox Empress can¡¯t quite get to, and now she¡¯s got control of the only other potential heir who can challenge the Ox Empress¡¯s boy.¡±

    ¡°But the Emperor named an heir. There¡¯s no ambiguity.¡± I didn¡¯t care to think about what a battle between Empresses might look like. More than that, I didn¡¯t need the constant reminders that failing to manifest a Mandate from Heaven meant almost certain death in these circles.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Another hearty chuckle from my uncle. ¡°Says that guy!¡± He thrust a thumb back over his shoulder toward the crier above the gate.

    It took me a second to pull myself away from my own troubles. ¡°You think it''s a lie?¡±

    ¡°All I know is that we¡¯ve got two Empresses backing two different heirs. Who knows what happens behind closed doors? And this is just one of many court rivalries. We haven¡¯t even mentioned the eunuchs.¡±

    ¡°Eunuchs?¡±

    ¡°Take it from me, Sparrow. Stay out of court politics.¡±

    ¡°I plan on it.¡± If Emperors who didn¡¯t manifest got poisoned, I didn¡¯t want to think what courtiers would do to me if they found out I was powerless.

    ¡°Too late now,¡± intoned my father.

    Our small retinue, along with representatives from a dozen other clans and their honor guards, passed beneath another gate, this one smaller, but far more ornate, where my father and Uncle quickly dismounted and passed their reins to an attendant.

    I followed suit and handed over Windshear.

    The stablemaster paused upon seeing my horse.

    ¡°You Sparrow?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I am,¡± I said, surprised and, honestly, a little thrilled that someone within the capital had heard of me.

    ¡°This your horse Windshear?¡±

    ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    He pulled a card from his leather vest and thumped it against my chest. Stunned, as he led my horse away without another word, I looked down at the card.

    WINDSHEAR (Horse Mount)

    COLOR / MARKINGS: Dapple Gray / Snow on an Overcast Sky

    STRENGTH RANK: 115th | SPEED RANK: 7th | DISPOSITION RANK: 543rd

    RIDER / TRAINER: Sparrow of the Silver Falcon Clan / Sparrow of the Silver Falcon Clan

    FOWLING: Iron Tower, Silver Falcon Plains, 17th Year of the Reign of Established Calm

    ¡°It seems your horse''s reputation precedes you,¡± said Uncle, punching me on the shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s climbing the ranks faster than you are!¡±

    If my powers never manifest, I guess there¡¯s a future for me shoveling horseshit, I thought bitterly. I didn¡¯t say it. Not where others could hear. Not in front of Uncle.

    ¡°He¡¯s a fine mount,¡± said my father. ¡°Be sure to work on his disposition.¡±

    Right. Seventh fastest horse in the Land Under Heaven, but they all saw him rear and then bolt on the yellow plains. I did find it hard to believe that five-hundred-and-forty-two horses were catalogued with better dispositions than Windshear, and someone had arrived at that ranking without ever having set foot in a corral with him. But then again, I had just been marveling at the intricacy and scale of the Land Under Heaven''s Imperial systems. Windshear''s rank might not have been perfectly true-to-life, but no doubt there was a logical way they came to that conclusion, and I didn''t exactly disagree with it. Windshear was certainly fast, but he was no more an ideal warhorse than I was the ideal soldier.

    ¡°A wild horse is as likely to get you killed on the battlefield as a slow one,¡± my father finished, as if he could sense my admiration for Windshear''s independent streak and sense of self-preservation.

    Presently, another attendant appeared, this one clean, beardless, and impeccably dressed.

    ¡°Please, follow me to your rooms,¡± they said. ¡°The Grand Marshal will summon you if there is news on His Radiance.¡±

    ¡°Summon?¡± rumbled Uncle. ¡°This really is starting to sound like court politics.¡±

    The attendant smiled graciously and bowed, but said nothing. He might have lost his head if he did.

    We were allowed our swords, and our armor, but our honor guard was turned away at the palace gates, and presumably shown to a barracks or perhaps an inn somewhere within the city that catered to low-middle ranks. The implication from the dying Emperor, likely crafted by one of the Empresses or their many ministers, was clear: "men with swords are no threat, but armies are." They would allow no situation to occur in which a warlord ¨C for that was what every clan leader, commander, and Imperial Protector of a Province was, in effect ¨C could control the Emperor by force of arms.

    The palace itself was a maze of power and luxury, and I marveled once again at just how many talented people had dedicated their life¡¯s work ¨C and perhaps Heaven¡¯s ¨C to ensuring the safety and majesty of the Emperor. Two palace gates built by the greatest engineers, one wall around the city built by the greatest masons, endless protocols surrounding armies and armed men, all fine-tuned over generations of coups and assassination attempts, and now, one wooden, architectural marvel that made it impossible for any outsider to navigate from their own quarters to those of the Emperor or the other key figures surrounding him without an attendant¡¯s help. No doubt there were many more layers of security that I had no intention of ever discovering.

    No doubt the greatest of these marvels were crafted by men and women with very powerful Mandates from Heaven.

    ***NEW BASE OF OPERATIONS***

    NAME: Residence of the Ever-Burning Lamp, Imperial Palace

    DESCRIPTION: A humble residence by Imperial standards, the Residence of the Ever-Burning Lamp caters to the needs of traveling dignitaries while they conduct business within the court. All of a guest''s needs are attended to by the palace staff, including food and drink, diversion and stabling services, hygiene, and, of course, security. Armor, weapons of war, and personal security details larger than the Imperial standard five attendants are strongly discouraged.

    INFORMATION ACCESS: +15

    SPLENDOR: +5

    INCOME: +0

    SECURITY: -15

    DISCRETION: -30

    I made to toss the Imperial card back onto the table by the door, but paused at the final two numbers. Now, they both read ''0.''

    I could have sworn that a moment ago the card had just said that there were negative values for the room''s security and discretion. But, no, that would make no sense. Why would someone in the office of Imperial Heralds advertise to the room''s occupant that it was both unsafe and under surveillance. I mean, it was probably both of those things, but if anything the palace staff would want to promote a sense of security and comfort, even if it were untrue. I must have misread the card on my first glance. I shrugged and put it back.

    My quarters turned out to be far more luxurious than I had expected, possibly even as opulent as those given to my father and uncle. Though I didn¡¯t particularly care for the overly plush cushions and couches after so many years on campaign, nor did I know what to do with three full rooms all to myself, I did delight in the fact that I had been afforded so much respect. This, despite my position within the clan ¨C and within the Empire ¨C being tenuous at best.

    Moreover, one room had a small writing desk, a seemingly infinite supply of candles, and a library of lacquered shelves spanning three walls. Thumbing through, it included some of the most important works written or proliferated in the last four hundred years: the complete Silk Texts, The Art of War, The Collected Sayings of Kong Qiu, and of course, the Book of Changes. I had read them all at least a dozen times, but to me, they were like old friends waiting for me on the other side of a war.

    It also had exactly the types of texts I had been hoping to hunt down, now that I was in the capital: court intrigue.

    I read while Imperial servants piled mountains of food before me, including everything from meat buns to rice wine. I read while other servants stripped me of my armor, bathed me, combed my hair, and trimmed the few whiskers beneath my chin. I read while they measured me and anointed me with oils and tinctures and then cut bolts of silk to fashion new clothes for me before my eyes, in accordance with our clan colors and motifs.

    Finally, at a suspicious pause in the activity around me, I lowered the scroll. The servants were gone, and there was a gentle knock at my door.

 Chapter 7: An Unexpected Visitor Overwhelms Sparrow

    Only after buckling on my sword, did I cross the room to open the door.

    I had expected another voiceless attendant, come to force me to trim my nose hairs or something else offensive to Imperial eyes. There was, of course, always an outside chance this would be a very bold assassin with a very low-priority hit-list. But what I actually found when I opened the door was¡­

    ¡°What are you?¡±

    She faltered for only a moment. ¡°I¡­ am Lady Ding. I am pleased to meet you, my lord.¡±

    ¡°I mean what are you doing here?¡±

    She smiled like I was a simpleton. ¡°In your experience, why does a lady normally visit a lord in his chambers?¡±

    She entered without being invited to do so, and slid easily onto a couch.

    My father and Uncle had sent me concubines before. They had joked about it afterwards, as if I had passed some sort of test and had been invited into some secret sect of manhood.

    Of course, I hadn¡¯t really been invited in. Not without a Mandate.

    A part of me now assumed that this was some far-flung attempt to trigger my Mandate from Heaven with the romantic arts. But no, I had already tried that.

    In any case, I knew enough about concubines to recognize one when I saw one. And I wasn¡¯t enamored with the concept of a harem, or fathering a few bastards, especially when I was still just trying to figure out how to keep myself alive.

    ¡°Lady Ding, was it? Listen, I¡­¡±

    ¡°Will my lord not join me on the couch?¡± I also knew enough about concubines to know that they always played some sort of game, intended to interest and seduce. Lady Ding¡¯s game appeared to be playing to my ego, giving me respect beyond my station and letting it intoxicate me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡±

    She shifted in such a way that her lavender robe seemed to slide itself to her shoulder of its own volition. Ah. Then of course there was the standard game of concubines. I blushed and wasn¡¯t sure if I was supposed to look at her bare neck or anywhere but her bare neck.

    ¡°Oh, dear. My lord is quite young, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    I knew to refute it would only make me seem younger, more desperate and more inexperienced in such matters of manliness, so I did what I pictured any other lord might do when a concubine came to visit him¡­ I poured myself a cup of wine. Lady Ding¡¯s eyes tracked me all the way. The first sip did wonders for my nerves and I took another before responding.

    ¡°I¡¯m familiar with such games as these,¡± I said. I wasn¡¯t, so I just started talking the way an older, more sagacious lord might. ¡°Someone within the palace would have the warlords¡­ distracted. I thought perhaps the Gray Dowager at first but¡­ no, she¡¯ll be quite preoccupied with the Empress. And vice versa. The Marshal perhaps? Or maybe these eunuchs I¡¯ve heard so much about?¡±

    I had no idea what I was actually talking about. The first I had heard of any of these people was this morning, but as long as I was overstating my knowledge¡­

    A tremor at the corner of her mouth was the only sign of what might have been a war within. Clearly I had broken some rule of the game. Perhaps I had even struck close to the mark. But, then again, I had just named everyone Uncle had.

    ¡°Such things are not for me to say, my lord,¡± she said smoothly. It was an obviously trained response and I decided on a frontal assault to test the depth of that training.

    ¡°Who sent you?¡±

    She gave a sweet smile that was almost convincing as she rose and placed her hands on my chest. ¡°Does it matter so long as I am here now?¡±

    Despite her hands running across my shoulders, all I could think was that this was yet another move in the larger war between the lords of the land ¨C one in which I had much less experience than in actual war. Of course, whoever had initiated this¡­ um, battle would have been sure that Lady Ding would only absorb information, not spill it.

    When I hadn¡¯t responded with a retort, she had begun undoing my sash and outer robe. ¡°Think of me as a message for you to unravel. Does the messenger really matter so long as the contents are¡­ rewarding.¡±

    I tracked her hands for a moment then looked up. ¡°Do you have a courtesy name, Lady Ding?¡±

    Her hands froze in place. ¡°A courtesy name?¡±

    I nodded without elaborating.

    The question seemed to have caught her off guard, and for a moment her act had cracked again, giving me a glimpse at¡­ well, at something else. I wasn¡¯t sure.

    In a flash, the facade was back up. She spoke slowly and sweetly, as if I were a horse in need of calming, or a foreigner who didn¡¯t quite know the language and the ways of our world. ¡°We are meant to be intimate, my lord. Those who are intimate have no need for courtesy names.¡±

    ¡°Yet you insist on calling me ¡®your lord.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Are you not?¡± My outer garments were gone before I realized it, and she had started on hers.

    I¡¯m not even my father¡¯s heir. The response came immediately to mind, but I clamped down on it. That would have been just the type of slip Lady Ding¡¯s masters ¨C whoever they might be ¨C were hoping for.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    It would be just the type of information that could get me cast out of the palace or killed.

    ¡°My father is a lord. I am his loyal subject.¡± It was the polite response, the one that could have come from either a dutiful heir or a peripheral, yet pragmatic son. In other words, it told Lady Ding and her masters nothing.

    ¡°What shall I call you then? ¡®Loyal subject¡¯ doesn¡¯t quite roll off the tongue.¡± There! Another flash of that deeper layer, then it was gone. I got the sense that the ¡®helpless subject¡¯ act didn¡¯t come naturally to her; it didn¡¯t incorporate her wit.

    ¡°Sparrow will suffice,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, my lord Sparrow,¡± the genuine reaction to my obstinance might have been exasperation, but Lady Ding simply moved closer to me in nothing but her supple, silken under-robes, and lowered her voice as if telling me a secret, ¡°Are you familiar with the concept of a¡­ concubine?¡± This last word was barely a breath in my ear.

    ¡°I¡¯m familiar with the function they serve in seeing that noble bloodlines are not only secure but prolific, yes.¡±

    The temperature of the room might have dropped from high summer to mid-winter in the space of a heartbeat. Lady Ding straightened up, took a half-step back, and her eyes went flat.

    ¡°They always send me the strange ones,¡± she mumbled. That voice could have come from a different woman¡¯s lips, it was so changed from that of the character she had played a moment ago.

    I laughed. ¡°Maybe so, but-¡±

    Lady Ding¡¯s foot lashed out and struck me in the chest, catapulting me onto the nearby couch. In a moment she was on me, pinning me even as my sword was out of its scabbard and spinning across the room.

    I surged up, but her attack had been so sudden, so complete, she was able to force me back down. For the moment, I was helpless.

    ¡°Relax,¡± hissed Lady Ding, so low I could barely hear her. ¡°I¡¯m not here to kill you.¡±

    The coldness was still there in her voice ¨C not the sickly sweet tone she had used at first, but the menacing, flat one I had begun to recognize as the true voice of Lady Ding.

    ¡°If this is some new game the concubines are using, I have to admit, it is not my favorite.¡±

    She leaned closer, pinning me to the couch with her eyes as much as her body now. ¡°This is no game for me.¡± It was again a whisper, but there was no allure to it. This was Lady Ding, the true lady: as cold and dark as the abyss. ¡°Be still.¡±

    Her true voice was oddly¡­ comforting to me. The barely restrained snarl mellowed within my chest.

    Suddenly she withdrew, and in a moment she was standing again, frozen against the wall as if waiting for something, as if she hadn¡¯t just attacked me and pinned me to the sofa.

    She was staring at a blank wooden panel like it was a deer about to bolt.

    ¡°What are-¡±

    A motion from her cut me off.

    ¡°Oh, yes, my lord,¡± she said in a stage whisper, and then panted as if in the throes of lovemaking. ¡°My lord! How improper of you!¡±

    The puzzlement must have been so clear on my face that when she looked over again, she rolled her eyes and beckoned. I began to rise from the couch and she quickly held out a hand, then motioned for me to come more slowly this time. I got to my feet as stealthily as I could. My boot creaked on the floorboard, but another bout of acting from the lady covered it up.

    ¡°I am yours to command, my lord! Ungh. Use me as you will! Ungh! Ahhh!¡±¡±

    Once I stood beside her, the two of us nearly flat to the wall, she pointed at a seam in the panel. I scowled. There was nothing there.

    She turned to throw her voice back toward the couch and produced a very convincing set of sounds that left me both scandalized and confused, my mind and body going in so many different directions at once.

    ¡°Ahhh. Oh, my lord.¡± She sighed as if satisfied. If that was supposed to simulate our entire bout of lovemaking, I was a bit insulted.

    There was a seemingly innocuous and barely perceptible creak from just beyond the wall. The seam that had been dark a moment ago, grew suddenly bright, as if light were shining through from the far side, then filled in with a barely audible click. The paneling was once again whole and without any visible joins.

    I turned to Lady Ding with a question. She held up a hand, looking as if she were counting.

    ¡°Ugh, there. You can move freely, now.¡± She threw herself down on the nearest sofa and picked up the scroll I had been reading when she had walked in. Her eyes scanned it for a moment as if finding her place¡­ like she had been the one reading it, and I had been the one to distract her. Within moments she seemed absorbed.

    ¡°Um, what just happened?¡± I asked.

    Without looking up she said, ¡°I seduced you. We made love. It was Heavenly.¡±

    ¡°Um, no you didn¡¯t¡­ No we didn¡¯t. No it wasn¡¯t.¡± I rubbed my chest.

    Still reading, she said, ¡°It''s fine if you¡¯re not interested. Boys, grandmas, goats.¡± She made a flippant gesture. ¡°If they put you in a better room I might have to actually find out what stimulates you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± My eyes narrowed. ¡°Goats?!¡±

    ¡°It''s not really my problem. They¡¯ll probably send someone else tomorrow night.¡±

    ¡°Look I didn¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t interested-¡±

    ¡°Like I said. Not my problem anymore.¡±

    ¡°But what¡¯s wrong with my room?¡±

    She slapped the scroll down onto the couch, as I often did when I had read the same passage a dozen times. ¡°If they thought you were important, they would have put you in a room where they could see your every move. In this room, there¡¯s only the one wall.¡±

    She pointed to where the spy-hole had been and then made to start reading again.

    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, feeling a fool. I should have suspected as much when I had first arrived. ¡°So¡­ is there always someone watching when¡­¡±

    She lowered her scroll ¨C my scroll ¨C just enough to fix me with a flat stare above it. ¡°¡®It''s not for me to say, my lord,¡±¡± she said, mocking her own words from earlier.

    I probably should have taken the hint and just picked something else to read until the lady left, but, honestly, the palace, the wine ¨C and I had to admit ¨C Lady Ding herself had gone to my head. For whatever reason, I wasn¡¯t quite ready to disengage.

    I said the first thing that came to my mind. ¡°You never wondered who decides who you sleep with?¡±

    ¡°Wondering gets women like me killed.¡± She sounded as if she were reciting a mantra.

    ¡°And¡­ what gets someone to become a concubine?¡±

    She responded as if far away, deep within the Record of the Warring States. ¡°Sparrow, we¡¯re not friends. I have no reason to tell you my life¡¯s tale.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    A moment ago I was ¡®her lord,¡¯ and now it felt like I was the intruder here. Looking back, the whole act was probably carefully chosen for me specifically ¨C to disarm the type of eager young soldier who would try to face down the General of Heaven alone. It was all meant to lure me into slipping up and saying something important that could be used against my clan. Looking back, it had almost worked.

    It probably wouldn¡¯t be the last time that my lack of a Mandate came close to leaking out.

    I let out a sigh. ¡°Can I at least have my book back?¡±

    ¡°There are others.¡±

    I scowled and moved to the bookshelf.

    ¡°Oh, and you¡¯re sleeping on that couch tonight.¡±

    ¡°If you say so, my lady,¡± I said scanning.

    Her eyes flashed dangerously at me over her scroll, and for a moment, I wondered if there might still be an assassination attempt in store for me this evening.

 Chapter 8: The Grand Marshal Sets the Board and Watches the Game Play Out

    Footsteps creaked on the floorboards at some point around the fourth watch, but it was just Lady Ding sneaking out. By dawn, I might have thought it all a dream, had I not searched the wall and found the seam in the panel that doubled as a spy-hole.

    Just as I was inspecting it, something slipped underneath my door. I looked at it from across the room. A message perhaps? No, it was a ragged scrap of paper that I recognized as belonging to the prankster. Before even picking it up, I ran to the door and threw it wide, peering down the hallways. Whoever had followed me from the yellow plains, to my tent outside Imperial lands, and now into the Imperial palace itself, with the intent of making light of my life''s accomplishments was nowhere to be seen.

    I slammed the door and picked up the scrap of paper.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: PARAGON OF VIRTUE

    DESCRIPTION: You''ve spent the night alone with a woman and DIDN''T have intimate relations. How stalwart and virtuous you are! Or maybe you like goats...

    I growled, and balled up the paper to throw it into the corner of the room. I was just committing to ignoring the jab and going about my day, when a thought struck me. Had Lady Ding been the one to write this? When she had made the jab about the goats, she had been the only one in the room; the watcher in the walls had already left. But if it were someone else, then that someone knew that Lady Ding hadn''t performed her duty. Which means she could be in danger... or at least in trouble with the Minister of Pleasures.

    Intent on determining if the calligraphy was masculine or feminine, I picked the scrap of paper back up and un-balled it. It was empty. I turned it over. Nothing. I held it up to the candle to see if there was some remnant of dissolving ink on it and as far as I could tell it was nothing more than a bare scrap of paper. I sighed. Either my mind was playing tricks on me, or whomever was doing this had a very subtle Mandate, and a very subtle knowledge of the palace''s inner workings. In any case, I would have to be more careful with what I said and did when I thought no one was watching.

    Still, some small part of me agreed with the note''s sentiment, if not its writer''s method of delivery. I did see it as a virtue that I hadn''t slept with a woman just because some rich and powerful person had order her to. And after seeing the real woman beneath the concubine''s mask, I did wish it could have played out differently between us. If the Minister of Pleasures sent a different person to tempt me tonight, that might have been the last time I would ever see Lady Ding. When I examined that thought, I realized that if any woman were to visit me in the evening, I would prefer it be the one who would kick me in the chest and steal my book, rather than seduce me on someone else''s orders.

    As it turned out, the next knock to come at my door, about halfway through the morning watch, was another attendant with more essentials and luxuries.

    This time they asked how I would like to spend my day, to which I responded around a mouthful of rice, ¡°Reading.¡±

    They came again at noon, though I hadn¡¯t noticed the time pass, and asked the same question, this time with several suggestions. I responded with the same answer, and asked if they could locate several specific texts for me, which they did. After sunset, they came a third time. Again, they fed and bathed and clothed me like a babe, as they had the night before, but this time, rather than mysteriously departing, so someone like Lady Ding could mysteriously appear, I looked up from my current scroll to find that the door was open, a servant wordlessly beckoning toward the hallway beyond.

    ¡°Um. Has something happened?¡± I asked, noticing for the first time that they had dressed me in more formal robes than last time.

    The servant smiled and bowed and beckoned.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Smiles. Bows. Beckons.

    ¡°Ok, then.¡±

    He pried the scroll from my hands as I left the room, but he never stopped smiling and bowing as he did so.

    I found myself back in the maze of hallways, and would have been lost without my silent guide. After enough turns to confuse me again, the silent servant led me to my father¡¯s quarters, where Uncle joined us at almost the exact same time, wiping dumpling sauce from his beard.

    My father¡¯s gaze was iron-hard, but for once it was not focused on me alone.

    ¡°You two look like you¡¯ve enjoyed yourselves."

    Did I? It''s not like I had some dumb smile on my face as I approached.

    Uncle responded before I could. ¡°What? Not going to let good food go to waste!¡±

    The servants beckoned for us to follow and we fell in.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think to see a falcon so happily caged,¡± said my father. ¡°And you, Sparrow. Did you even consider how vulnerable we all were, isolated and at the mercy of our hosts.¡±

    ¡°Yes, father.¡± I hadn''t thought about it for long, to be fair, but it wasn''t a lie to say that I had at least acknowledge the fact before falling into my studies.

    ¡°Tell me you let nothing slip.¡±

    ¡°No, father.¡±

    ¡°And how did you spend your time?¡±

    I hesitated. ¡°Reading.¡±

    Uncle cocked an eye at me, as if to say, ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°No doubt you were as distracted as was my sworn brother, then. If an assassin were to slip into one of our rooms and throw our entire clan into chaos, would you have even noticed with your nose so deeply in your books?¡±

    That was hardly fair. Anything I read might prove useful in the days to come. If my nose was buried in books, at least it had been buried in palace histories, plots and obscure protocols. Even though my chest burned, I nodded, accepting the criticism.

    ¡°Know this, Sparrow. Every movement within the palace is watched. Every indulgence, recorded. There will always be someone interested in the weaknesses of the warlords and those nearest them. There is always someone seeking to sow discord and divide.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    That, I did know. But books weren¡¯t a weakness. They were one of my greatest strengths! Even as I opened my mouth I realized that I wore my sword in a sash of silver, and didn¡¯t remember putting it on. If one of the servants could pick up my sword without me noticing, how easy would it have been for them to lop my head off¡­ so long as they were capable of cutting through a copy of royal lineages in the process. My father and Uncle wore their weapons as well, and my Uncle was inspecting a length of his blade, as if to make sure it hadn¡¯t been tampered with.

    ¡°What do you make of these?¡± he asked.

    My father¡¯s eyes flicked to the servants leading us through the maze, as if measuring what his words might gain some other lord or lady. ¡°I think this meeting of the clans will be unlike any other we have seen.¡±

    After a few more twists and turns through interminable pillars of spiced and lacquered wood, my father went on. ¡°Remember to choose your words wisely. If you speak poorly, it might be a long time before the council of our clan is heeded again. And if you speak well¡­¡± He grimaced. ¡°Someone might just do as you suggest.¡±

    As we entered the meeting hall ¨C the Hall of Benign Virtue, a text had called it ¨C I was dazzled by the incredible display of wealth and logistics that the palace had offered. Though I would have recognized many of these men and women in their armor, I would have been hopelessly lost, dressed in silks as they were, had there not been a simple and elegant system to it all.

    Every single one of them, dozens though there were, had been given new clothes of the finest silk in the span of a single day, all in the colors and motifs of their clans.

    The Tiger of Jiangdong already lounged in one of the many cushions around the grand table, looking as bored as a cat in a sunbeam. The effect was only increased by the fact that his attire, in the blazing red and orange of his clan, bore the stripes of a tiger. His attendants I did not recognize, but the moment I realized that the cut of the Tiger¡¯s clothes was the same cut as my father¡¯s I was able to figure out that the two men beside the Tiger must be his generals or sworn brothers, as they wore the same garments as my uncle, though of course in the colors of the Crimson Tiger clan rather than our Silver Falcon.

    I looked down at my own clothes, then up again to find my counterpart among the Tiger¡¯s retinue. Based on this system, I could only assume that the two young, regal looking men behind the Tiger were his sons. Their eyes were keen and interested, while their father appeared to already be dozing off on his plush cushion.

    Grand Marshal Oxblood sat at the head of the table with his attendants, in a shaggy ox-horned helmet. I had read he was not a subtle man. Though most texts seemed to focus on his origin as a common butcher, he had risen far since then, and had directed a very tidy campaign against a very untidy foe these last five years. Humble origins or not, he had my respect.

    It was also not lost on me that he alone wore full armor, appearing large and invulnerable, while the rest of the warlords were vulnerable in their elegance.

    The hall was even now filling with brown and yellow, purple and black, blue, green, gold, white, and, of course, our silver, as befit our respective houses.

    There were a dozen other variations, too, representing lesser factions I wouldn¡¯t have recognized had I not been bored so often over the last few months, studying every minor missive and skirmish account. Even so, my head spun trying to unpack it all, even as my father and uncle stood before me, gazes sweeping the room as if surveying a battlefield.

    It was a battlefield, just a different sort, as my father and Uncle had so clearly instructed me ¨C this one a war of manners, customs, and subtle movements.

    As I watched, one clan leader in pale green ¨C a man I recognized as Liu Baio, courtesy name Orchid Mantis ¨C finished his perusal of the room. He started in one direction and halted, then took another step in the opposite direction.

    He appeared lost, and in that moment ¨C in those two faltering, uncertain steps ¨C I realized along with the rest of the room, that despite his vast holdings Orchid Mantis would never be a threat to lead the Land Under Heaven. Too uncertain, too unfocused, and worst of all, he moved before he knew where he was going. How many potential allies had he just lost, in the years to come, based on two steps? How many enemies would be emboldened to strike at his flanks because of so minor a movement?

    It could turn out to mean nothing; or it could mean the death of his family and entire clan.

    When my father, back on the yellow plains, had said that we could not afford a false move, I did not think he had meant it literally!

    As more warlords filed into the Hall of Benign Virtue, it was getting awkward just how many of them were milling around the edge of the room, waiting for someone to make the first move and take their seat.

    In a hall with so many warlords of great, but equal power where would my father position himself. Next to the Marshal? Opposite him? There was no precedent for this that I had read about, and the attendants who had led us here had melted away at the door. We were on our own and every step was as important as the first deployment of troops to the field of battle.

    The Marshal of course, had already taken his seat and watched the warlords with a weighing gaze, as did the Tiger, though with markedly less interest.

    That was when I figured out the game. The Marshal had orchestrated a grand puzzle in colored pieces. The Hall of Benign Virtue was the board, and all the players had arrived at nearly the exact same moment. This was a test of the warlords¡¯ wit and decisiveness. And as my father lifted his chin and took in a breath, I knew he was about to make his move. He angled toward me... The wrong direction.

    The Tiger opened one slitted eye.

    I darted in front of my father, bowing low to give him the respect due both my father and my lord, and held out an arm like an attendant, ¡°Allow me to escort you to your seat, Commandant, Lord of the Silver Falcon clan!¡±

    My father nodded magnanimously, as if he had only been waiting for the proper heralding, as if his half-turn had been a command for me to perform the duties of his herald. Then he followed my gesture to the three cushions with a very subtle silver trim, barely noticeable among the other patterns.

    I felt eyes boring into my back, but lost in the performance of both a dutiful son and loyal retainer, I dared not glance around to see who watched me. A moment later, I heard other retainers throughout the room make similar proclamations to their leaders as they figured out the puzzle the Marshal had orchestrated. I had been both their first hint ¨C perhaps their second or third if Orchid Mantis¡¯s faltering, or the Tiger¡¯s already seated retinue could be counted ¨C and I had also set a new palace precedent for ministers or retainers to be the one to announce their lord if proper heralds hadn¡¯t been provided.

    Pulse pounding as I carefully arranged my robes around me, I had no idea that simply walking into a room could be such a difficult task. And one with such steep ramifications for failure.

    One particular minister managed to recognize the role he should play but hadn¡¯t figured out the more subtle game of cushions and colors. He led his master to the wrong seat¡­ and almost cast the land into chaos then and there.

    ¡°You¡¯re in my seat, Lynx,¡± said Gongsun Zan, courtesy name White Stallion. She was a tall woman, dressed like the other warlords in the room, though her attire was pure white, and her ivory scabbard was long and curved.

    When Gao Gan, the Lynx, simply ignored the challenge, as if it wasn¡¯t worthy of acknowledging, White Stallion reached for her sword. There was no way one warlord would cut down another from behind in the heart of the palace, right? All it took was a span of steel bearing bared to convince me anything could happen.

    Quickly, the Lynx¡¯s minister in speckled brown realized his mistake and threw himself to the floor, prostrating himself beside his master and shouting, ¡°I have led you astray, my lord! Allow me to correct this injustice immediately!¡±

    The Lynx thought about it a moment and then nodded.

    Their ministers rearranged the cushions and the Stallion was able to seat herself on the proper color without killing for it, while the Lynx was spared the embarrassment of having to give ground or die.

    I let out an involuntary breath, and almost laughed, until I saw that about half the lords in the room were reluctantly dropping their hands from their own swords. If White Stallion had drawn her blade, how many of these lords would have done the same? Which of them had formal or implied alliances, and which were just looking for an excuse to slaughter a neighbor? Who was sworn brothers with whom, who was fostering whose son, and who had married whose daughter? Finally I understood what my father had said about the cascade effect. One brick out of place was all it took, and the wall would come crumbling down.

    The only silver lining was that someone had finally made more of a spectacle of themselves than I had. But if I thought it safe to glance casually around the room, I was wrong.

    One man had not taken his eyes from me throughout the entire White Cushion Affair. When I looked over, Grand Marshal Oxblood himself beheld me from beneath his horned helm, visage weathered and scarred and boring into me.

 Chapter 9: The Bricks Begin to Tumble and Sparrow Gives Them a Shove

    I casually avoided the Grand Marshal¡¯s gaze and dropped my chin to adjust the hem of my robe.

    ¡°Um,¡± I hissed to my Uncle, ¡°Does the Marshal want me to do something?¡±

    Uncle admired the ceiling¡¯s architecture and eventually surreptitiously flicked an eye toward Oxblood. ¡°He¡¯s just taking your measure, boy. You did well to solve his puzzle. The only one quicker was¡­¡± A subtle tilt of his chin.

    ¡°...the Tiger,¡± I finished for him.

    ¡°Not the Tiger,¡± corrected my Uncle. ¡°His advisor, Flashing Palm. They say he and Iron Rod, that big man beside him, were port-town crooks until the Tiger recognized their talent. Brains and brawn. He¡¯s got a solid pair of retainers there.¡±

    ¡°And the other two? The younger ones?¡±

    ¡°The Tiger¡¯s sons. They already call his heir the Little Conqueror. The other one¡¯s too young yet for a courtesy name, but his given name is Quan.¡±

    ¡°His¡­ heir?¡± The Little Conqueror¡¯s garb did indeed match mine, in style if not in color. In private, my father had been clear about my position within his household, but as far as the court was concerned the fact that I was the Commandant¡¯s only son in attendance meant I held nearly the same status as an heir to Tiger Den Commandery, if not a whole Province like my father¡¯s Falcon Plains. The fact that my rank had started lower than was usual was probably seen as an anomaly, or perhaps some sort of grooming tactic from my father.

    And if the Marshal had now taken an interest in me¡­

    I nearly smiled.

    Uncle, as if reading my mind, ¡®nearly¡¯ rolled his eyes. ¡°Just keep your-¡±

    ¡°The Imperial Marshal,¡± squealed a man at the head of the room, ¡°Is prepared to address the Imperial Protectors of the Provinces and Commanderies!¡±

    All chatter halted immediately.

    The Marshal unbuckled his sword and held the scabbard out like a scepter. Every eye upon him, he surveyed us for a long moment before pounding it once on the ground.

    ¡°The Emperor¡­ is dead.¡±

    An overzealous minister immediately began a wail of lamentation, but the Marshal cut him off with a motion.

    ¡°The time for mourning is later.¡± The Grand Marshal spoke slowly, and I could almost feel the combined warlords sifting through each word and weighing them, like so much millet in the hands of a tax collector. ¡°Now is the time for action,¡± he said. ¡°To ensure the safety of the rightful heir.¡±

    No one spoke. No one moved. The crier at the city gate had been clear about who the rightful heir was ¨C supposedly ¨C but everyone in the room was waiting to hear who the Imperial Marshal would throw his weight behind.

    ¡°Prince Bian, the son of the empress, my sister¡­¡±

    The way he danced around calling the Prince his nephew could have been interpreted as deeply respectful or as distancing himself from a blood relative he was about to slaughter.

    ¡°...has been named the heir.¡±

    Still no movement. It was a statement of fact; not a proclamation of loyalty.

    ¡°It is the duty of the Imperial Marshal and the Imperial Protectors of the Provinces and Commanderies¡­¡±

    Yes?! What is it? Succession war or mere succession?

    ¡°...to support Prince Bian with everything we have!¡±

    Ok, no succession war after all. But why summon us of all here to tell us everything will be fine ¨C everything will proceed as normal?

    ¡°The Ten Imperial Attendants, as they call themselves¡­¡±

    I glanced toward my uncle, and he mouthed the word: ¡°Eunuchs.¡±

    ¡°...isolated the Emperor on his deathbed...¡±

    The Ten Imperial Attendants, my studies this afternoon had informed me, were meant to be butlers, not courtiers. But proximity to power meant a taste of power, and there had been rumblings for generations about the expanding roles of the eunuchs.

    ¡°...and they claim to have heard something else in the Emperor¡¯s last breath¡­¡±

    That something else could only have been a different heir, almost certainly Prince Xie, the Emperor¡¯s son by his favorite late concubine, raised by the Gray Dowager, as Uncle had said. But of course that was all too treasonous to even speak directly.

    ¡°...This. Is a lie. Fabricated by eunuchs to seize power...¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Or the truth. But what did it matter when you had a chance to put your nephew on the throne?

    ¡°...I ask this coalition. What is to be done about these eunuchs?¡±

    Another puzzle with only one right answer, and my mind was already spinning. While the Tiger¡¯s retinue may have been the first to solve this new riddle as well, it would be another man who was both intelligent and committed enough to voice the answer aloud. That man was not me.

    ¡°Harmony demands that we remove the Ten Attendants from the palace,¡± said Noble Lion, dressed in resplendent golden thread, and closer to my age than I would have thought based on his battlefield prowess. ¡°Command one thousand of my clan¡¯s soldiers to enter the palace, Grand Marshal, and I will ensure Prince Bian ascends to the throne, as is his right. Anyone who stands in our way will face me. Only then can the matter rest.¡±

    Masterful, I thought. Not a slaughter. Not a coup or a cleansing. A thousand soldiers would ¡®put the matter to rest.¡¯ Violence to ensure peace. And if the Ten Imperial Attendants just happen to get in the way¡­ well, the Lion will personally see to it.

    There was only one problem with his response.

    The Marshal gave voice to its flaw as if he had been ready for this very suggestion. ¡°An army may not enter the palace without the Emperor¡¯s blessing. Soldiers will not steer our nation.¡±

    Of course. You let a hundred Golden Lions into the throne room and they may never leave. There was again only one answer. I looked to Noble Lion. He looked chastened for his minor misstep, and as such, he seemed reluctant to speak further.

    I looked around the room to the other lords and attendants. They all looked at each other.

    Surely someone else had figured this out.

    The Tiger¡¯s advisor, the brilliant crook Flashing Palm? Surely he would have¡­

    Flashing Palm was looking at me with a mischievous grin. He waggled his eyebrows and nodded, as if to say, ¡°Go ahead, kid. Do it. Tell them what needs to be done.¡±

    I looked to my father and Uncle, who both appeared as stoic as ever, which of course meant that they hadn¡¯t figured out the solution or they would have certainly spoken up and claimed the honor of leading these other warlords. But I couldn¡¯t exactly whisper the answer in my father¡¯s ear. I couldn¡¯t be seen to be plotting. No. Something like this needed to appear to be done in a fit of passion.

    I looked up to Grand Marshal Oxblood, who once again glared down at me, as if he knew I knew, and he was commanding me to speak it aloud. Prince Bian needed me to speak, or he might be robbed of the Dragon Throne. The Land Under Heaven needed me to speak, or it would be thrown into chaos and war. I had to speak. It was my highest duty to speak, higher even than my duty to obey my father!

    ¡°We do it ourselves!¡± I shouted. Everyone turned to me, including the furious gazes of my father and Uncle. Ok, maybe not as eloquent as Noble Lion¡¯s proclamation. But I had said what needed to be said, right?

    ¡°Do what ourselves?¡± ground out the Marshal. Maybe not.

    It was one thing to solve a riddle, but quite another to speak treachery and slaughter before the most powerful men in the Empire with every eye upon you.

    Luckily, someone else drew the eyes away from me again.

    Someone began laughing, a dry, rasping laugh. It was the Tiger, fully awake now and eyes blazing. That powerful gaze washed over me, my uncle, then my father.

    ¡°Sharp boy you¡¯ve got there, Commandant. You know, I¡¯ve got a daughter about his age¡­¡± He turned to the room, ¡°We were allowed our swords, after all, if not our armies. Probably because the palace eunuchs thought we¡¯d be at each other¡¯s throats the moment we were under the same roof."

    Everyone''s gaze followed his to White Stallion, then the Lynx.

    ¡°They were almost right. A few cut throats in the night, maybe a brawl over something trivial, and this coalition would have dissolved quicker than horses made of sand. I guess the plan was that we¡¯d be too busy with each other to think about some gelded baby-sitters.¡±

    Every eye was upon the Tiger. After all, he was speaking about a coup. Still, he seemed bored by the notion ¨C half asleep again.

    ¡°But there are almost a hundred of us in this room,¡± he continued with a yawn. ¡°Battlefield tested with powerful Mandates, all of us. And¡­¡±

    Noble Lion sat straighter in his chair, while the Tiger slumped.

    ¡°...we have our swords.¡± The Tiger of Jiangdong smirked, resettled into his seat, and closed his eyes once more.

    ¡°What are you suggesting?!¡± came the demand from White Stallion.

    The Tiger didn¡¯t respond, so the Lion did for him.

    ¡°We must follow the Imperial Marshall to the Hall of Five Seasons,¡± Noble Lion said, voice full of righteous surety. ¡°Our force of arms will ensure that the late Emperor¡¯s will is upheld and Prince Bian is enthroned. Fail to act now, and who knows what else may befall our land.¡±

    Again, masterful. Noble Lion had framed a coup as something that we were duty-bound to carry out. As his words sank in, I could almost see White Stallion go from insulted by the very mention of bloodshed to its most ardent supporter.

    So long as it¡¯s purely preventative bloodshed, I mused. I looked to Flashing Palm who smiled wryly as if he could read my thoughts.

    Wait, could he? Was that his Mandate? Was that why everyone thought him so clever?

    A dagger twirled in his hand and his gaze slid away from me at the sound of rasping steel.

    ¡°Courage, men!¡± shouted the Stallion drawing her sword. ¡°The late Emperor¡¯s will be done!¡±

    As swords flashed, and the many disparate auras of power assaulted my every sense, I looked to the Marshal. His attending the meeting in full armor now shone in a very different light; this had been his intention all along! For every clan in every color to enthrone Prince Bian¡­ there could be no clearer indication of the will of the land. The clans would not only support Prince Bian¡¯s reign, they would literally and visibly place him on the throne themselves. I had solved the puzzle, the Tiger of Jiangdong had goaded men to action, and Noble Lion had aligned them all perfectly. Now, White Stallion would lead the way.

    But we were all just playing a role in a grand game. It was the Imperial Grand Marshal who was the director. Or¡­

    As the last of the lords rushed out of the room, my father and uncle included, I turned back only once, and saw a rustle of the curtain behind the Marshal¡¯s seat.

    Ah. Not Grand Marshal Oxblood, but his sister, the Ox Empress was the one pulling the strings.

    As I drew my sword, I wondered just how many of us were real players in this game, and how many of us were mere puppets.

 Chapter 10: The Assembled Warlords Attend a Coronation, Bleary-Eyed and Blood-Stained

    Almost a hundred bleary-eyed lords and their attendants lined the Hall of Five Seasons, blood crusting many a scabbard.

    The first step in the coup, of course, had been to secure the rightful heir, Prince Bian, and make sure no quick-thinking opponent could steal away or murder him before we could get him enthroned.

    The heir¡¯s guards understandably took objection to a small army of sword-brandishing warlords carrying off their charge in the middle of the night. Our intentions might have been easily explained, but the scent I now recognized as the Tiger¡¯s Bloodlust Mandate had washed over the coalition ¨C now little more than a well-dressed mob ¨C and the Stallion¡¯s own Mandate had given us all such courage that no one had bothered with explanations.

    The prince¡¯s guardsmen were, unfortunately, cut down, and when the chaos was at its thickest in those dark Imperial halls, I had needed to draw my own sword just to defend myself.

    At least, standing in the chilly silver mist of dawn, that was what I told myself.

    The second step in the coup had been to secure the heir¡¯s immediate rival. A small, sobbing Prince Xie now stood between his stricken grandmother and his frightened older half-brother, while the Five-Clawed Dragon robe was placed around the older boy¡¯s shoulders.

    That boy, now the Son of Heaven, turned to ascend the steps of the five-sided altar. He lit five bowls of incense ¨C Green, Red, Yellow, White, and a sooty colorless smoke that passed for Black ¨C as offerings to the five roving stars under which he now ruled.

    Thus, it was done. Matter of succession settled.

    Lastly, as the new Emperor was not yet an adult, he did not yet have a courtesy name. And though there would be many official ways to speak of his majesty, or ¨C if one¡¯s rank were sufficiently high ¨C to address him directly, it could not be implied that the new Emperor was in any way inexperienced, a boy controlled by his elders. Oh no, he needed a courtesy name if only to maintain the farce of his capacity to rule. With no surviving father or grandfather, the Imperial Grand Marshal ¨C the boy-king¡¯s uncle ¨C would be the one to name him. No doubt, his mother the Ox Empress had already chosen the name, but, as a woman, it was improper for her to speak in an official capacity or visibly engage in the politics of the court.

    It was an absurd presumption, I thought, since the events that had directly resulted in the new Emperor¡¯s coronation had all been orchestrated by her hand, and she was now perhaps the most powerful person in the Land Under Heaven. But the traditions of patriarchy were maintained nonetheless.

    ¡°I, Oxblood, Imperial Grand Marshall and brother to the new Empress Dowager, his majesty¡¯s venerable mother¡­¡±

    The Ox Empress was given that much acknowledgement, at least, if not mentioned by name

    ¡°...name the Son of Heaven¡­ Emperor Shining Light!¡±

    An unreadable look flitted across the younger prince¡¯s face. His grandmother too appeared to be confused. In fact, many upon that dais, as the sacred chimes rang out across the courtyard, seemed to be shook by something so simple as the granting of a courtesy name. There must be more to this, I knew. There was something to that name to which only the highest members of the court were privy.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Then, Emperor Shining Light looked to his smaller half brother, and did something very unexpected. The Marshal drew in a breath to close the ceremonies, but the little Emperor beat his uncle to it.

    In thin piping voice, against all protocol and expectation, he said, ¡°I, Emperor Shining Light, name my brother, Prince Xie, my heir.¡±

    There was stunned silence among the assembled. Was the Emperor supposed to speak at his own coronation? Was this the proper protocol for naming an heir? In any case, there was no denying the voice of the new Emperor.

    ¡°Emperor Shining Light has spoken,¡± The Marshal intoned, though the boy''s mother, the Ox Empress looked chagrined.

    Then, looking to the tiny Emperor as if there might be yet more surprises ¨C there weren¡¯t ¨C the Grand Marshal sucked in a breath and bellowed, ¡°Emperor Shining Light. Long may he reign under heaven!¡±

    ¡°LONG MAY HE REIGN UNDER HEAVEN!¡± All in attendance cried out.

    ¡°Long may he rule the land!¡±

    ¡°LONG MAY HE RULE THE LAND!¡±

    ¡°Long may he reign under heaven!¡±

    ¡°LONG MAY HE REIGN UNDER HEAVEN!¡±

    ¡°Long may he rule the land!¡±

    ¡°LONG MAY HE RULE THE LAND!¡±

    Five times the phrases were repeated, and none shouted the response louder than the Ten Imperial Attendants, the eunuchs who had been spared.

    The third and final step in the coup was meant to be their extermination. The Marshal had laid all the blame for the ¡®confusion¡¯ of the late Emperor¡¯s will at their feet, and the mob of warlords and attendants ¨C myself included ¨C had every intention of excising the eunuch''s influence from the palace. In short, they were to be rounded up and killed, in whichever order was most convenient for the mob. While many of the lesser eunuchs, and many beardless-servants-thought-to-be-eunuchs were cut down on sight, the Ten Imperial Attendants had miraculously survived the night.

    Courage and bloodlust had fueled the mob, but when the Ten Imperial Attendants themselves had been cornered, I myself stood before them with dripping sword raised, panting as the ringing of steel echoed throughout the palace.

    For a moment, the briefest of moments, my rage and courage failed me, and I wished with all my heart that the bloodshed could come to an end if only for a day. Suddenly, a sense of calm washed over us. The Marshal himself strode through the mob, setting his hand upon our upturned blades. Even so, he never could have halted us in time if it hadn¡¯t been for the Mandate of Heaven he so clearly exuded. I had seen many gifts of which I was intensely jealous, including the Tiger¡¯s and the Stallion¡¯s, but never had I felt such a powerful and unique aura as Grand Marshal Oxblood''s. And never would I have guessed that the Mandate of the Imperial Marshal ¨C the highest military authority in all the land ¨C was the Mandate of peace.

    For some reason, a reason I would never truly know, the Marshal had changed his mind about the fate of the Ten Imperial Attendants at the last moment, sparing them. So too had the child-Emperor found the courage and wit to outmaneuver his own mother and save his younger half-brother from her plotting. If the intermittent looks shot by the Ox Empress in the direction of the Ten Imperial Attendants, and eventually the tiny Prince Xie were any indication, sparing the rivals of her son had not been part of the Ox Empress''s plan, this day.

    Interminable plotting, a sleepless night, a decision from my father that would set the course of my destiny. Despite everything that had already happened and what was still to come that day, those two decisions by the butcher called Oxblood and the little boy-Emperor are the ones that stick most within my memory, and puzzle me most, even now. For those two acts of peace, two acts of mercy, would give rise to the greatest chaos and cruelty the Land of Heaven has ever known: The Tale of the Three Kingdoms.

 Chapter 11: Sparrow Gets a New Position, a New Mission, and a New Bodyguard

    From the coronation, my father went straight to the stables, wordlessly indicating that my uncle and I should follow.

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± said the Commandant.

    I took in a breath to ask why, but my father quickly cut me off.

    ¡°For once in your life, Sparrow, just listen. We may not have much time alone. Boshe, I need you to go get the men from the barracks and have them meet me at the gate. Send a messenger to the men camped outside and have them ready to move immediately. Go now.¡±

    Uncle hustled off, one hand cinched in his sash to keep his robes from flying everywhere.

    I made to ask another question, but managed to stop myself this time.

    ¡°Yes, Sparrow, I¡¯m taking all the men. Except for one. Dian Wei will be your bodyguard. I¡¯ve trusted him with my life and now I¡¯m trusting him with yours.¡±

    Bodyguard? I thought to myself.

    ¡°This isn''t a lasting peace, merely an interbellum. Another war is coming sooner or later, and when it does our house must be in order. Our first duty is to the people of our provinces. The Marshal won¡¯t hold this country together forever, and when he fails, it will take everything we have just to hold our ancestral land. While I¡¯m in Iron Tower, your uncle will protect the interests of the Silver Falcon clan in court. He¡¯ll speak with my authority so long as my heir is by his side.¡±

    ¡°Then what am I supposed to¡­ Wait, your heir?¡± I actually did say that out loud.

    ¡°Yes, you. As soon as I reach Iron Tower, I¡¯ll set it in motion. But my will or no, Mandate from Heaven or no, you¡¯ve positioned yourself such that the other warlords would be glad to see you ascend to my position, one day.¡± He clapped me on the shoulder. ¡°Except for the ones that fear us, or want our land, of course. Those ones will be pissing themselves.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but smile. But as my father¡¯s smile vanished, so did mine. Suddenly it felt as if I had wandered into a steel trap.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be too proud of yourself, Sparrow. War is coming, and you¡¯ve had as much a hand as anyone in bringing that about. You may be my heir now, but the other lords will still see you as weak and unworthy until you manifest a Mandate. It is your uncle who speaks with my voice, not you. Stay silent. Learn from him. And remember: I have other sons who¡¯d be happy to take your place.¡±

    ¡°Father, I-¡±

    ¡°I hope I¡¯m not interrupting,¡± came a rasping voice. In the gloom of the stables, I saw the flash of his eyes first, and then quickly realized that the Tiger must have had the same thought as my father.

    How long had he stood there? Had he heard about my lack of Mandate? We had never heard him coming.

    His generals and heirs all still filed down from the palace as he signaled for his horse.

    ¡°I was just leaving,¡± my father said as I helped him into the saddle.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said the Tiger, ¡°Just you?¡±

    ¡°Boshe and my heir have affairs well in hand here.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said the Tiger leaping into his saddle. ¡°Perhaps the Falcon and the Tiger could ride together for a while.¡±

    ¡°Depends which way the Tiger is going.¡±

    ¡°South. But before that, east for a while. You?¡±

    ¡°North. But before that¡­ east for a while.¡±

    ¡°So it''s settled.¡±

    ¡°So it seems.¡± My father gave me a stern look, a nod, and then kicked his horse into motion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t dawdle,¡± said the Tiger to his own sons before he fell in beside my father.

    I thought it a bit strange that the Tiger should take his entire retinue with him, back to the Commandery he looked after. Apparently the Crimson Tiger clan had no further interests in the capital. Either that, or not even tigers were safe in this new regime, and a simple sparrow should be flying away as fast as he could.

    I watched my father disappear with the five men in red riding behind him, and remembered how I had sardonically assigned myself a mission back before we even entered the capital.

    ***SPARROW''S MISSION REPORT: FORAY INTO THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL***

    SUCCEEDED Primary Objective: Survive long enough to become heir to the Silver Falcon Plains.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    SUCCEEDED Secondary Objective: Actually put the Silver Falcon clan in a good position for the future.

    FAILED Bonus Objective: Don''t mess up the Empire, while you''re at it.

    Enemy Slain: 3 | Enemy Captured: 0 | Losses: 0

    Overall Grade: B (Moderate Success)

    I couldn''t help but smile to myself as I turned and headed back toward the palace. Still, my smile faded as I realized that the conclusion of my personal mission had come with the commencement of a much harder, much broader one. I outlined those thoughts and those objectives as I often did, as a briefing before battle, imagining the official orders my Uncle would eventually receive, along with the lay of the land. East of Windmarsh, the third province under my father''s protection, was the sea. Which meant that if general war should break out, we''d have potential enemies ¨C or potential allies ¨C on three sides of us, though I guess my father was already starting on trying to gain a powerful ally in the south.

    ***SILVER FALCON CLAN MISSION BRIEFING: INTERBELLUM***

    Primary Objective: Prepare the Silver Falcon clan for general war among the clans.

    Secondary Objective: Ensure the Silver Falcon clan ends up on the right side of Imperial favor.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province North of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province West of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province South of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Halfway back to the palace steps, my revery was broken by boots thundering on the paving stones behind me. I turned to find a large man, stripped of armor and in just his underclothes, barreling through the guards at the palace gate. He had caught the soldiers atop the wall so off-guard that they didn¡¯t even have time to knock arrows, or else the big man would have been a pincushion before he could get more than a few steps inside the palace. The guards at the inner gate hadn¡¯t gotten their pikes down in time either and they had been bowled over, now clinging to this man as he drove towards me.

    My first instinct was alarm, and then, remembering what my father had said, I ran down the steps with hands outstretched, ¡°Wait, wait, wait! Stop. Dian Wei? Stop, please.¡±

    Even with two heavily armored men draped around him, he still hadn¡¯t been slowed, such was his strength. He finally halted a single pace in front of me, like a soldier on parade before an officer.

    ¡°Dian Wei Reporting!¡±

    He bowed and handed me his pendant.

    DIAN WEI

    RANK 2: Distinguished Peasant

    WORTH: 100 dan

    CLAN: Silver Falcon | STAR: Unknown | FATE: Unknown

    MANDATE: Strength Enough to Stop the Wind

    ¡°It just says Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°Yes. That is my name.¡±

    ¡°Ok, but what should I call you?¡±

    The muscle-bound man looked confused. ¡°Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean what¡¯s your courtesy name?¡±

    Again he looked so confused, I felt that I was the one who must be missing something. ¡°I Am Your Bodyguard.¡± he said, after a moment.

    ¡°Yes, I know that. But I don¡¯t know you that well, yet. What should I call you in the meantime?¡±

    ¡°Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°Ok, lets try this¡­ Can you let him go please! This is my attendant, not an assassin and not some common soldier.¡± Well, by the Imperial definition he was a common soldier, if a distinguished one, but that was beside the point.

    The gate guards fell off of Dian Wei with a rattle, collected as much of their dignity as they could and slunk back to their posts.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try this. What did my father call you?¡±

    ¡°Dian Wei. I Was His Bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°People you drink with in the taverns?¡±

    ¡°They Are All My Good Friends. They Call Me Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°Commanding officer?¡±

    ¡°Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°His commanding officer?¡±

    Dian Wei thought for a moment. ¡°Oh, Dian Wei. But He Did One Time Call Me Windstopper.¡±

    ¡°Good enough. Mind if I call you Windstopper?¡±

    Dian Wei¡¯s primitive brow wrinkled. ¡°Why Not Dian Wei.¡±

    ¡°I would feel more comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Kay.¡±

    ¡°Great. Glad that¡¯s settled. Now, follow me Dian- er, Windstopper.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Kay.¡±

    I turned to head back to my rooms, and then paused. ¡°Um, why do they call you Windstopper.¡±

    ¡°They Don¡¯t. They Call Me-¡±

    ¡°Yes, Dian Wei. I got that. Why did your commanding officer¡¯s commanding officer call you Windstopper that one time.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Because When I Was A Boy I Held The Flag For The Army And Even When It Was Really Windy And No One Else Could Hold The Flag Without It Falling Over, I Could Hold The Flag Without It Moving Even A Little Bit. They Thought I Could Stop The Wind But I Am Just Really Strong.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Follow me, Windstopper.¡±

    ¡°Ok, Sparrow.¡±

    ¡°So you do understand the concept of a courtesy name.¡±

    ¡°What Do You Mean. Everyone Calls Me By My Real Name. It Is¡­¡±

    Our conversation went on in much the same manner, while an attendant led us through the circuitous palace pathways back to my room. Suffice it to say Dian Wei, I mean Windstopper, was a bit hurt when he finally realized that some people ¨C but not all people ¨C gave him one name, while they gave their close friends and family another. It took the better part of the day to explain that this wasn¡¯t a lie, simply a way of being polite. The word ¡°polite¡± took a lot more explaining.

    ***RANK UP***

    SPARROW

    RANK 6: Knight of the Provinces ¡ú RANK 7: Distinguished Knight

    WORTH: 300 dan ¡ú 350 dan

    CLAN: Silver Falcon | STAR: Black | FATE: None | MANDATE: None

    BONDS: Windstopper | ALLIANCES: None

    DISTINCTION: Heir to the Imperial Protector of the Falcon Plains, impetuous but intelligent, and apparently skilled with systems, puzzles, and books.

 Chapter 12: Sparrow Earns Many Achievements and Walks a Fine Line with a Concubine

    ¡°I Am To Stay Outside.¡± Windstopper asked an hour after dinner. The attendants always brought far too much food for even five men to eat, but this time, since I was sharing with my new bodyguard, every plate they took away was picked clean. Windstopper had a prodigious appetite as well as prodigious strength. And I now realized that my quarters ¨C the ¡°Residence of the Ever-Burning Lamp¡± the card had called it ¨C had a +0 to economics. I might not collect any income from any lands here like my father was probably doing right now, but at least I didn¡¯t have to pay to feed this goliath of a man.

    ¡°No, you can go wherever you like,¡± I responded, once the attendants were gone. ¡°I just can¡¯t have you inside my room this evening.¡±

    ¡°Why Not.¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m expecting- well, hoping for a guest.¡±

    ¡°Should I Let Them In.¡±

    ¡°No. You should go somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°I Should Not Let Them In.¡±

    ¡°No. You should let them in, then go somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Where.¡±

    ¡°Anywhere you like.¡±

    ¡°I Would Like To Go Here.¡±

    ¡°Anywhere but here.¡±

    ¡°I Will Stand Outside The Door.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Ok. But if a woman comes, please let her in.¡±

    ¡°Ohhhh. Why Did You Not Say It Is A Woman. Your Father Trained Me For This.¡±

    ¡°Trained You. I mean¡­ trained you?¡±

    ¡°I Am To Wait Outside And Cover My Ears And Not Come In.¡±

    ¡°Works for me. Just don¡¯t send her away, okay?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Kay.¡±

    I tried to dive into my reading once Windstopper was safely stationed outside, but when I unrolled my first scroll, a stack of papers fell out.

    I picked them up and leafed through them, my annoyance mounting into horror then shifting to confusion.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: START WITH THE CORNERS

    DESCRIPTION: An opposing warlord set a trap for you, but you solved their puzzle and survived unscathed. Well done! Maybe try not stepping into the trap in the first place¡­

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: THE BARKING DOG

    DESCRIPTION: You spoke out of turn in a meeting or war council in front of someone more than ten ranks above you! They could have you flogged for that.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: BRASH ENOUGH TO BE BEHEADED

    DESCRIPTION: You spoke out of turn in front of someone more than TWENTY ranks above you! You do know how this ranking system works right? Next time try harder to keep your head¡­ or you won¡¯t.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: RED-HANDED USURPER

    DESCRIPTION: You''ve participated in a plot to depose a clan head, king, or Emperor¡­ and succeeded! Congratulations! I¡¯m sure whatever you gained from it was worth the people you killed in the process. And remember: it''s only treason if you mess it up.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: BONDED

    DESCRIPTION: You¡¯ve managed to convince someone from a lesser rank to devote themselves to you utterly. Just don¡¯t make it weird, ok?

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: NEXT IN LINE

    DESCRIPTION: You''ve been named as the heir to a throne or the seat of a great clan. Don¡¯t celebrate just yet. Statistically speaking, there are far more heirs across history than there are coronations.

    As I sifted through them again and again, I couldn¡¯t help but feel as if there was someone out there who knew far, far too much about the things that I had done. But at the same time, some of them didn¡¯t make sense. Had I stumbled into an opposing warlord¡¯s trap?

    I suppose the Grand Marshal¡¯s maze of pillows in the Hall of Benign Virtue could count, but then why would the prankster not say as much. In fact, the language of all these notes appeared to be much more general than specific to me. Perhaps there were other warlords receiving the same missives? Perhaps someone wanted us all to know that the things we did in pursuit of power were being chronicled somewhere, even if they might be hidden from official history?

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Many of the ¡®achievements¡¯ I had received had been critical. But some had been good, specifically the one about forging a bond with someone, even if Windstopper was far too trusting of his new liegelord. I wondered what I had done to earn such ¡®devotion.¡¯ Was it the fact that I had given him a name, or the fact that I had shared my food with him? Surely a simple order from my father wouldn¡¯t have earned the type of ¡®utter¡¯ commitment the message had alluded to¡­

    Eventually, my thoughts were interrupted by a muted voice in the hallway.

    ¡°Go Right In.¡±

    Windstopper¡¯s voice was clear, and the other sounded like a woman, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. Lady Ding had said ¡®they'' ¨C assumedly the Minister of Pleasures ¨C would probably send someone else tonight. I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if it were anyone other than Lady Ding. By Heaven! I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if it was her!

    I quickly stuffed the papers back into the scroll and rose as the door opened.

    And there she was. Suddenly my heart was hammering in my ears as if I had just been thrown from my horse mid-charge.

    ¡°Lady Ding!¡±

    ¡°You were expecting me?¡± There was an edge to that pretend voice and I knew I had already done something wrong.

    ¡°Um. ¡®Expecting¡¯ is the wrong word.¡±

    ¡°The wall of muscle outside would suggest otherwise. Unless he¡¯s under orders to admit any lady into your room at any time.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I¡­ I had hoped that I would see you again. He¡¯s under orders to let you in, specifically.¡± I thought back to my exact orders to Windstopper and realized that wasn¡¯t exactly true.

    Lady Ding seemed to be weighing me. Eventually she smiled, sickly sweet, which I didn¡¯t take to be a good sign. ¡°I am at your disposal, my lord. You have only to ask for me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but-¡±

    ¡°Hush, my lord.¡± Lady Ding was completely devoted to her game again, not for my benefit, no doubt, but for the watchers in my walls. In fact, I thought the fact that she got down to business so quickly was because she had caught my inadvertent lie, and now she just wanted to get her job over with.

    Even so, as she crossed the room, and placed a finger to my lips, my heart began to pound. My mind knew what she was doing, of course, but I was having a hard time convincing my body this was all an act.

    She brought me down upon the same couch ¨C a bit more gently this time than a kick to the chest ¨C and she went through roughly the same routine as last time. I found it hard to keep my own breathing steady as she began panting and making the sofa creak. The sounds that she made were¡­ very convincing, and I could only imagine that I would be very outmatched if it ever came to the real thing.

    As her act came to a close, there was utter silence from beyond the wall.

    ¡°Again, my lord? Are you sure you are ready so soon?¡±

    I barely contained a snort of laughter, but it seemed to fit with Lady Ding¡¯s act, so she simply carried on.

    ¡°In that case, I will make you a special tea that will ensure your stamina.¡±

    This second act of supposed lovemaking took longer, and Lady Ding made sure there was the occasional flash of limbs, garments or pillows cast in full view of the paneling¡¯s spy-hole. By the end of it, I wasn¡¯t sure where I was supposed to look or how I was supposed to sit, and I was completely incapable of stopping the beads of sweat from prickling the collar of my under-robe.

    Eventually, there was a creak of wood within the secret chamber and the same whisper of a click that told me the watcher was satisfied that Lady Ding had performed her duty.

    It was another few heartbeats before either of us spoke.

    ¡°So,¡± said Lady Ding, somewhat out of breath from the elaborate simulation. ¡°You say you wanted to see me again. Why?¡± She was now using her true voice, one deeper and more alluring to me, as opposed to the lilting, slightly squeaky one so many men seemed to favor in concubines.

    ¡°You mean aside from the performance?¡± I asked with a twist of a smile.

    ¡°Mm. If you enjoyed that so much, you would have jumped at the real thing.¡± She had stolen the scroll from my couch again.

    My heart stopped as the papers outlining my recent crimes fell out and I almost snatched them from her hands. I wasn¡¯t quick enough. But as she turned the papers over, I saw that they had all gone blank, just as the others had.

    She shrugged and placed them to one side.

    With so many recent ¡®achievements¡¯ all stacked together, and with no text now to draw my attention, I realized that there were subtle differences in the paper itself, as if some of these notes were more rare or valuable. I committed myself to studying them more later. And, should I get one of these strange notes again, perhaps I should examine them more closely before the writing disappeared.

    For now, I was focused on not letting Lady Ding slip through my fingers, as it seemed our second meeting had gotten off to a terrible start. She had decimated my vanguard and her opening salvo had left me reeling. I decided on a direct approach but the way she was positioned behind her book as she was, I felt I could fall back and regroup, reorganize my thoughts if needed... If I fell back fast enough.

    I cleared my throat. ¡°To be quite honest I¡¯m not sure why I had hoped you¡¯d visit again. I¡¯ve never enjoyed the company of women who were duty-bound to be with me, and I can only imagine you¡¯re not so keen on the practice yourself.¡± I rubbed my chest where she had kicked me. ¡°But perhaps a person can¡¯t survive with only ink for company.¡±

    ¡°You were lonely. Isn¡¯t that sweet.¡± She turned the scroll mechanically, but I got the sense that it was only to maintain a pretense of disinterest. At least that¡¯s what I hoped. ¡°Though I wonder how one can be lonely, with such a vigilant protector at their door.¡±

    ¡°Windstopper is a good man, and loyal to my father¡­¡±

    Her eyes flicked up over the scroll, and when I didn¡¯t continue, she finished my sentence for me. ¡°...But he¡¯s not quite a match for you, is he?¡±

    ¡°Are you saying you are?¡±

    ¡°No, little sparrow. It¡¯s you who are not quite a match for me.¡±

    I could only smile. She was right.

    In any case, it appeared my strategy was to be direct, entice her out of her fortress, and then keep pace with her as best I could¡­ though that was a difficult task.

    I shrugged. ¡°So,¡± I said conversationally, ¡°what else can I do with you?¡±

    The look she gave me over the scroll was so dark, it could have made a monster quake. ¡°Do with me?¡±

    Ok. Fall back.

    ¡°DO with me?¡±

    ¡°Um, not like that. I mean¡­ What else could we do that wouldn¡¯t seem suspicious? I mean, it¡¯s only early evening, and no one could believe that we¡¯d be in here all night making love and I¡¯ve been reading all day and¡­¡±

    ¡°You are aware this is not a game for me. I am duty-bound to be here.¡±

    I said nothing. She could say no. Well, technically she wasn¡¯t supposed to, but the woman who had kicked me in the chest, made me sleep on the couch in my own quarters, and kept stealing whatever I happened to be reading ¨C probably because I had been reading it ¨C would have no problem telling me to go¡­ um, entertain myself.

    Instead, she slapped the book down as if I had finally succeeded in breaking her concentration, and sighed, ¡°It is not uncommon for a lord to walk the palace gardens with a concubine.¡±

    She was making fun of her own act again.

    ¡°Sounds nice,¡± I said.

    ¡°Go on then, get dressed if you must. But I¡¯ll not have you wear a sword in my presence."

 Chapter 13: Sparrow Follows a Lady Down a Dark Road and She Trusts Him with a Story and a Secret

    ¡°One hundred paces away, Windstopper.¡± I had explained to my overzealous, oversized nanny.

    ¡°But You Will Be Moving?¡±

    ¡°Fair point. Well¡­ walk one hundred paces down that hallway and then only take a step when I do.¡±

    As Lady Ding led me from my rooms to the palace gardens, Windstopper followed us with such concentration that I couldn¡¯t help but smile.

    Or perhaps I was smiling for another reason.

    The lady hadn¡¯t felt the need to lay on the ¡®my lords¡¯ so thick as we strolled through combed pebbles, manicured flowers, and fish-filled ponds, nor did she drop the act entirely. It was a civilized middle ground where I could just barely get a sense of what might interest her and when I began to get boring.

    She was everything that my life wasn¡¯t. There was no hunting or training. There were no swords or conquests or military formations. She didn¡¯t care a whit which lands could support what armies, or where the bulk of the Tiger¡¯s forces were going to be stationed.

    But beneath all that, our worlds were very much the same. Every public misstep could spell our doom, our rivals¡¯ knives were always at our backs, and both of us lived and died by the grace of the men we were sworn to. And, to my great delight, we dealt with it in the exact same way; we escaped into literature. Oh, I know she was trained to navigate a man in order to find and exploit his interests, much as I was training to navigate a battlefield in order to find and exploit its strengths and weaknesses, but there was a way she was ¡®interested¡¯ in some things ¨C about the Tiger¡¯s forces, for instance ¨C that differed from how she was interested in the Art of War.

    If anything, it appeared she was more engrossed in the topics that she cared less about, saying things like, ¡°Oh, tell me more,¡± or ¡°That is so interesting,¡± when I knew it wasn¡¯t.

    But when I would quote Sun Tzu or Kong Qui, she would attack my positions, tell me I had misread it, and force me to defend my interpretation or application of the concepts.

    In this way, Lady Ding was like any battlefield commander I had ever seen or studied: there were goads and feints, enticements and distractions, but she only really fought for the objectives that mattered to her.

    I didn¡¯t realize it until later, but at some point, we stopped looping around the palace gardens and turned out of the palace gates, into the City of Lanterns itself.

    We were hardly in the heart of the city, as the city blocks around the palace were largely comprised of walled manors and sprawling city mansions. Night had fallen, but paper lanterns hung on strings over the streets.

    For whatever reason, Lady Ding had decided on a change in locales, and she danced around her reasons for why.

    As the first stranger shuffled by, cloaked and hooded, I inadvertently went to rest my hand on my sword pommel only to remember that I had left it back in my quarters.

    At some point, she placed her hand on my arm and brought me to a stop.

    I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a hand, head cocked as if listening.

    I listened as well. At first it was subtle. With the setting of the sun, the city had begun wailing. An Emperor had died and the people, high and low, would lament. Even if they had no love for the late Son of Heaven, even if they had no love for the Land Under Heaven, anything less than vigorous nightly wailing for a hundred days would be considered an act of disloyalty, possibly even treason.

    Wails rose up from inside the mansion we had stopped beside, same as the others, but there seemed a different pitch to it. I checked the alleymouth and saw that Windstopper was still there, peering around the corner to check if I had taken any more steps, and then disappearing again to observe my ¡®hundred-paces-away¡¯ rule.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked.

    The moon was thin, barely more than a curved saber blade, but the lanterns lit Lady Ding¡¯s face on one side. The look she gave me was unreadable and weighing, one I had not yet seen from her.

    She gestured to the spikes atop the wall. They were styled to look like wrought-iron Moon-Moths. ¡°Are you familiar with this clan motif?¡±

    I had read something that mentioned the moth but¡­ ¡°Not intimately, no.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be. They¡¯re relatively new as far as clans go, and not very powerful outside of their matriarch. Care to guess who she might be?¡±

    ¡°Matriarch?¡± The clans run by women were few and far between.

    ¡°A hint. The clan is called the Gray Moon-Moth.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, the Gray Dowager? The late Emperor¡¯s mother? Ah, the Empress who stood beside the other prince, the one not coronated.¡±

    The lady made to reply and then halted as she noticed a drunken lord stumbling down the alleyway. I¡¯m not sure why, but as he passed, I positioned myself between him and Lady Ding.

    When he disappeared down the far end of the alley, I turned back to the lady to find her looking up at me, something strange and dark in her eyes. ¡°Do you know how a lady in the palace lives long enough to become gray?¡±

    I shook my head at that.

    The lady nodded and seemed to be looking over at the rising cries from behind the wall. ¡°The Gray Dowager came from nothing, the prettiest farmgirl in a little village with an old, unmarried minister.¡±

    A patrol moved past the far end of the alleymouth, and the lady took me by the arm and led me a few steps in the opposite direction so that our backs were toward the more busy street.

    ¡°The unmarried minister had little talent. He had even fewer aspirations beyond a full belly and¡­ well, the prettiest farmgirl warming his bed. He married that farmgirl at least, before she ¡®warmed his bed,¡¯ and when she gave him a son, they were both happy.¡±

    I realized I did know this story ¡ª everyone in the Empire knew at least some of it ¡ª but the way Lady Ding spoke of it, she seemed to know its characters more intimately, and she spoke as if she had told this story many times. Eyes still flicking to the alley-mouths, she continued.

    ¡°The life of a wife in a small village. Her husband¡¯s rank couldn¡¯t have been more than 103 or 102. The lowliest of government officials. But for her, it was enough. Until one day, an army showed up at the minister¡¯s house, and told them they were to come away to the capital. The unambitious minister had royal blood in his veins, you see. He had a Mandate, but nothing worth mentioning. And now, for some reason, his son would be the new Emperor.¡±

    I had grown antsy at the wailing over the mansion wall, and the increased activity in the street behind me, but when I turned away, the lady placed a gentle hand upon my chin and turned me back toward her.

    ¡°¡®Surely there¡¯s been a mistake¡¯ said the farmgirl, now a woman with just a touch of gray in her hair. But the Emperor before had been sterile, either from bad luck or¡­¡± her eyes darted over my shoulder, ¡°Or through the careful attentions of his Ten Imperial Attendants.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Her hands pulled me closer.

    ¡°The empress-mother at the time, called the Koi Dowager, had decided, after very careful study and deliberation with her Minister of Imperial History, that a farmboy, son of a farmgirl, would be the next Emperor. The boy-Emperor¡¯s parents and relatives were given an estate, but no titles, in exchange for their son, and so it was for years.¡±

    I could smell the exotic perfumes in her hair as Lady Ding nuzzled her head against my chest, as a man stepped into the alley, and then nervously disappeared through a doorway opposite the wailing.

    She waited another few heartbeats before continuing, looking up at me from not half a span away. ¡°For years the farmgirl railed against her lavish prison and the isolation from her child, while courtiers and eunuchs and the Koi Dowager raised him. They chose his name. They chose his wife. They chose his every decree. Years later, it wasn¡¯t until the struggle between the Koi Dowager and the Ten Imperial Attendants came to a head and the Koi Dowager was killed, along with her entire household, did the farmgirl become the new Empress Dowager.¡±

    She stepped away a more appropriate distance and I can¡¯t say that I wasn¡¯t a bit disappointed that the embrace hadn¡¯t lasted longer. My eyes still lingered on her painted lips as she spoke.

    ¡°The farmgirl called herself the Gray Dowager, and her new house the Gray Moon-Moths, for the years she had spent without her son left her old and delicate like the wings of a moth. But now, with an an official rank second only to the Emperor in the Land Under Heaven, and a newly constructed clan willing to support her, she could finally put all her years of planning into motion. She tried to guide her son, directly, at first, but by this point he was corrupted. He was only interested in wine and women, and the Emperor¡¯s disinterest in ruling left all the power in the hands of the Ten.¡±

    She laced her fingers through mine and brought our hands up between us.

    ¡°So, slowly, the Gray Dowager replaced the Emperor¡¯s women with ones that might guide him to the right path. He was still spending all his time with the beautiful creatures, but suddenly their attentions did not come so cheaply. They were asking favors of him, talking him on walks through the city or rides through the countryside where he could see his people. His concubines were even so bold as to express opinions on matters of Empire.¡±

    She lifted her chin and I realized that she not only knew this story. She might have had a personal tie to it.

    ¡°Suddenly the Emperor noticed that his wine was not so strong as it had once been, and his chefs and cupbearers claimed hardship in the paddies and breweries, which was not untrue. Slowly, the ministers around him began to change, too.

    ¡°There were new faces, or rather, ones so old as to seem new, ones he had once recognized as his friends and family from a farm village far away from the capital. They seemed less certain about the world. They argued, even fought, but they weighed decisions carefully, and the Emperor ¨C head finally clear and eyes finally open ¨C was delighted to see that they often came to better decisions than the other ministers that had once run the Empire.¡±

    Someone screamed from beyond the spiked wall and my head snapped around, but Lady Ding took my face in her hands and brought her lips so close to mine I could feel her breath as she spoke.

    When the lady continued, her voice was hoarse

    ¡°The Emperor already had an Empress and he already had an heir by her. But now, among his concubines he found his true match. The Emperor fell in love, he had another son, one that showed promise and power, and there was hope for the court and the land once more.¡±

    She stepped back, her spell on me broken.

    ¡°So, tell me little sparrow, do you know how this story ends?¡±

    I nodded, mouth dry. I had seen the ending myself, not a day ago, but my mind was still on the lady¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Go on then. Tell me. How does it end?¡±

    I cleared my throat, my blood cooling as I remembered a note that had called me a ¡®Red-Handed Usurper.¡¯ ¡°With yet another new Empress Dowager. A new boy on the throne. And that promising young boy that should have sat the throne, crying beside it with his grandmother.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps for you, that is where it ends, Sparrow. But not the farmgirl. What of her?¡±

    ¡°The Gray Dowager? The grandmother of the princes?¡±

    Lady Ding nodded, and looked up over the walls, her face catching the lantern-light. I saw that she had tears in her eyes.

    The wailing from the high walls beside us reached its crescendo, screaming in grief and fury. This was no mere state-mandated observance. This was mourning in truth. ¡°This¡­ this is her estate? The Gray Dowager¡¯s!¡±

    The mourning cries changed pitch, became screams of fear and¡­ something else. I reached for a sword again but there was still none there. I was suddenly glad that I hadn¡¯t left Windstopper behind in the palace.

    Lady Ding flinched at the horrible sound, appearing more vulnerable than I had ever seen her. ¡°Not just the Gray Dowager¡¯s home. Her entire clan¡¯s.¡±

    There were now the unmistakable sounds of slaughter coming from within the manor¡¯s walls. And my years of combat could not prepare me to hear those same sounds of butchery coming from the throats of women and children.

    ¡°We have to do something!¡± I started for the other alleymouth where I had seen the patrol pass.

    ¡°Summon the city guard?¡± said Lady Ding, stopping me with the gentlest of touches. ¡°You might find them strangely absent tonight.¡±

    ¡°Windstopper and I are soldiers, Lady Ding.¡± Windstopper was suddenly by my side, a dagger-axe in his hand that might have weighed as much as an anvil.

    ¡°Soldiers without an army,¡± she said.

    My bravado leaked out at that. Lady Ding was right. Even with Windstopper by my side, we were only two men, and I was unarmed. All I could do was add my body to the total, and put the lady in danger as well. I got the sense that she had already risked her own life by bringing me here, and again when she had told me the story behind the late Emperor and the Ten Imperial Attendants. I also got the sense that she had deliberately disarmed so that I wouldn¡¯t do anything stupid in front of her ¨C like charging into a scene of slaughter.

    She knew this would happen. My thoughts whirled. She knew this was happening tonight! No, it was more than that.

    ¡°You know her don¡¯t you?¡± I asked. ¡°You know the Gray Dowager personally.¡±

    Tears now poured freely down her cheeks, and she nodded again. ¡°She chose me. To help save the Emperor. She chose all of us so carefully. And she became like a mother to us.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re no mere palace pleasure girl.¡± I put a hand to my brow. ¡°Of course! You¡¯re one of the late Emperor¡¯s own concubines.¡±

    ¡°Tell me, Sparrow. What happens to a concubine when her Emperor dies?¡±

    I thought about it a moment, and then I ground my teeth. She was the late Emperor¡¯s property. Long ago she might have been buried with him. Now¡­

    ¡°Same thing as his horses,¡± I growled.

    The lady laughed bitterly. ¡°The Emperor that inherited me is eleven years old. He¡¯s got more use for horses than for concubines. No. We¡¯re the property of the Ten Imperial Attendants now, to be moved around the game board at their will and doled out as rewards for loyal service.¡±

    ¡°And what have I done to deserve¡­¡± I was going to say ¡®this reward,¡¯ sardonically of course, but I decided on simply, ¡°What have I done to deserve you?¡±

    ¡°Your words when we met may have been launched carelessly but they found their mark nonetheless. The Ten want you distracted. They want the Gray Moon-Moth clan to slip away unnoticed. They want the running of the Empire to go unnoticed. They want to go unnoticed. I was meant to be a test, only one time on your first night, to measure your virtue and to find your vices. But now, something you¡¯ve done, or perhaps many things you''ve done has them very, very interested.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the ones watching from inside the walls?¡±

    ¡°Or one of the many who serve them.¡±

    The screams and desperate cries from the mansion behind us began to die down, with long pauses between them now, but they still set my teeth on edge, perhaps more so for what their slowing implied. I had heard stories of vendettas before. Elders dragged from their beds in their underclothes. Children hiding in closets. Unarmed and unarmored fathers flinging their bodies before blades, the only way left to them to protect their families. Young mothers whose best hope was a quick death.

    I couldn¡¯t do nothing. I pushed the lady away. ¡°You should run. Leave the city tonight,¡± I said.

    Lady Ding snorted. ¡°And go where? Do what?¡±

    ¡°Anywhere. Anything but serve their callow needs.¡±

    The lady shook her head. ¡°I would be rankless. An outlaw. If I didn¡¯t find myself in the harem of some brigand, I¡¯d have to marry some fat, old merchant just to live within his walls. No. Whether here or out there, I have one thing to trade for my survival.¡±

    Mind racing, I knew she was right, but that didn¡¯t stop me from being angry about it. I grabbed Lady Ding by the arm. ¡°Then come on!¡±

    I ran across the dew-slick cobbles, Windstopper in tow. It was late now, and no one was in the streets. If there had been any common-folk, surely they would have made themselves scarce when they heard the first sounds of struggle within the Gray Dowager¡¯s estate.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°To find out who did this.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter who swings the sword?¡±

    I growled. ¡°It should.¡±

 Chapter 14: Sparrow Spies a Demon in the Streets

    We had listened to the carnage from a side wall of the Gray Dowager''s estate, but whoever had stormed the mansion had done so from the front, the way state-sanctioned murderers often did. We slid out the far alleyway and across the street until we came to the estate that sat facing the Gray Dowager¡¯s. This mansion, specifically, didn''t interest me but I needed a vantage point. For those purposes, it would suffice. I led us down another alley.

    I beckoned to the small wooden side gate that all of these manors seemed to possess, for servants or perhaps trysts. ¡°Windstopper?¡±

    ¡°I Should Kick It Down.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Stand Back. I Will Kick It Down.¡±

    He did indeed kick it down, with one swift motion, no less. And then I slid in. I looked around the garden surrounding the main house. It was empty and silent. I waited a long while ¨C perhaps longer than I could afford ¨C to see if anyone had heard the small gate crashing inward. Silence, both from within the garden here and across the street.

    I padded through the gardens and around the main house to where two nervous looking guards waited within their estate¡¯s main gate. No doubt they were hoping that the slaughter was specific to their neighbor, and it wouldn¡¯t spill over to the whole city block.

    I pulled Windstopper close and whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t kill them, just subdue them. On my mark.¡±

    I slid up behind one guard, who played with the tassel of his halberd as boots resounded on the empty street beyond the gates. I had no trouble slipping an arm around the distracted man¡¯s neck. Windstopped simply punched the other man¡¯s helmet. Both slumped to the ground. Checking they were both alive and unconscious, I moved past to press my eye to the crack in the gate.

    I had gotten there just in time.

    A towering figure dressed in shimmering black armor emerged from the Gray Dowager¡¯s estate wiping blood from his sword with a gray silken scarf. Every inch of the man galled me: the way he held his head high as if he knew himself to be a fearsome sight in the blood and lantern-light; the way he swaggered from the scene of an old woman¡¯s slaughter as if it had been some great ¡®achievement;¡¯ the way he smiled, satisfied, by the cooling blood on the intricate gold-work of his sword.

    A spiked creature with a tiger¡¯s body and vulture¡¯s wings adorned it. Its cold, golden eyes seemed insatiable in the rocking lanterns. I realized that I recognized that sword. It was one of the few weapons that were famous enough to have its own Imperial card.

    BLADE OF THE FIRST PERIL: THE INSATIABLE BEAST, TAOTIE

    TYPE: Straight-sword

    WEAPON RANK: 5th

    LORE: Forged by the Living Blade Mandate of the Vicesmith in the time of the Dark Interregnum, it is said that the Blade of the First Peril represents gluttony, and it grows stronger with the blood of its victims. It is said its bearer can never be satisfied.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    LAST KNOWN OWNER: The Demon

    I stiffened with fear as I recalled the card and realized who this man must be.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Lady Ding hissed. I stepped aside and motioned her toward the crack in the gate.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Dowager¡¯s scarf,¡± she whispered. ¡°But who is that monster?¡±

    ¡°His given name is Lu Bu,¡± I said, ¡°called the Demon. He serves a man called Snow Fox, but¡­ something¡¯s not right. The Demon¡¯s in the wrong colors. And Snow Fox would never give such an order or condone such actions from his bondsman. He is a wise and gentle ruler, who has always preached wise administration above plots.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter now. The deed is done. Come. We need to leave here before we are noticed. Or before our absence in the palace is.¡±

    The flight back through the City of Lanterns was just that. A flight from the scene of a terrible crime. The further we drew from the Demon and the Gray Dowager¡¯s household, the more my shame at doing nothing burned in my chest, which gave rise to an anger that nearly boiled through me. There was a ringing in my ears like a small bell being struck continuously and incessantly. Even Windstopper appeared cowed. When the lady led me back to the doorway of my quarters but made to depart, I caught her by the hand.

    ¡°I will kill him for what he has done. I promise you this, my lady. One day I will kill that man with my own hand.¡± As I spoke, the ringing finally stopped and my anger abated.

    I must have been a sight in the dim light of the palace hallway, because Lady Ding studied me for a long moment. Then she dropped her gaze. ¡°You are a good man, Sparrow. Better than anyone gives you credit for.¡±

    She turned to go, but paused once more.

    Looping a golden chain from around her neck, she handed me a pendant of pure gold.

    ¡°When I first met the Gray Dowager, she named me Shadow River, though few men I have met have had any use for a courtesy name. You may call me River if you wish.¡±

    SHADOW RIVER

    RANK 105: Imperial Concubine

    WORTH: 1,000 dan

    CLAN: Unknown | STAR: Black | FATE: Unknown

    MANDATE: Shadow River

    I handed her pendant back with a small bow, as if meeting her for the first time. She took it and hurriedly departed.

    ¡°River,¡± I whispered to myself, as she disappeared into the gloom and tunnels of the palace maze.

    After a moment, I realized Windstopper was standing next to me, so close I could hear his heavy breathing.

    I turned toward him. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°She Just Gave You A Fake Name.¡±

    I snorted a laugh. ¡°Not fake, Windstopper. It may be the truest name she possesses.¡±

    Windstopper scratched his head.

    ¡°Come on in. I¡¯ll ring for some dumplings.¡±

    Windstopper beamed and seeing how carefree he could be after everything that happened this night, I had to smile to myself as well.

    ***SILVER FALCON CLAN MISSION STATUS UPDATE: INTERBELLUM***

    Primary Objective: Prepare the Silver Falcon clan for general war among the clans.

    Secondary Objective: Ensure the Silver Falcon clan ends up on the right side of Imperial favor.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province North of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province West of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province South of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    SUCCEEDED Secret Objective: Gain an ally in the Imperial household.

 Chapter 15: Sparrow Learns That His Virtue Is Being Measured and Tries Not to Stage Another Coup

    The days and then months following the extermination of the Gray Moon-Moth clan passed by blissfully enough; the Land Under Heaven almost sighing with relief at how quickly and neatly power had changed hands. It had been a decisive victory for the Ox Empress, her son Emperor Shining Light, and Imperial Grand Marshal Oxblood. If there were lingering tensions between the eunuchs and the Ox Empress, Emperor Shining Light and his tiny half-brother whom he had named his heir, neither I, nor the city felt their ill effects.

    I did get two more ¡®achievements¡¯ after witnessing the slaughter, signaling that at least someone had registered the extermination of an entire household.

    As I awoke the next morning to a tower of crispy scallion pancakes with savory dipping sauce, I noticed two slips of paper tucked in between the plates. They hadn¡¯t been there when the servants departed.

    I read them while Windstopper plowed through the plates of food beside me and I sipped my tea.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: BONK!

    DESCRIPTION: You¡¯ve chosen to incapacitate an innocent in a non-lethal way. It''s harder than you think not to kill someone, when they¡¯re minding their own business.

    ***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

    TITLE: THEY PROBABLY HAD IT COMING

    DESCRIPTION: You decided not to save the innocents while witnessing a slaughter. Your motives for doing so are probably very subtle and nuanced. Or you¡¯re the worst.

    While it still disturbed me that someone could witness my actions even when it had appeared that we were completely alone, this time I was more interested in how the messages had been delivered, versus what they actually said.

    The two notes were the perfect contrast, in that I could safely consider them to be commenting on actions that placed me on opposite sides of the moral spectrum, at least superficially. I could tell that ¡®BONK¡¯ was written on clean, white, albeit cheap paper, and the one about not saving the innocents was written on filthy yellow parchment. If there was a system to these ¨C and I was still entertaining the theory that these notes were meant to warn rising warlords that someone was always watching the things they did on their quest to gain rank ¨C the difference in medium might be informative as to how these actions were being weighed on the scales of virtue.

    Even as I thought it, rather than the pages going mysteriously blank when I looked away, I saw that both ¡®achievements¡¯ now had an additional line.

    They had been in my hand. No one could have altered them while I looked down to pick up my tea. But now there was an additional line beneath ¡®DESCRIPTION¡¯ that seemed to indicate how my ¡®VIRTUE¡¯ had changed with the ¡®achievement.¡¯

    It was +5 for BONK and -15 for doing nothing while the Demon had wiped out the Gray Dowager¡¯s clan. It appeared that there were no points for figuring out who swung the sword, or for swearing an oath to bring them to justice, and the fact that I would surely have died if I had tried to stop the slaughter was no excuse in the eyes of whomever wrote these.

    I didn¡¯t particularly care that I had netted -10 VIRTUE ¨C it sounded like a rounding error in the life of your typical warlord ¨C but I did care that, having held the messages in my hand as words appeared, I was now fairly certain that the messages were written with the help of a Mandate.

    Seeing as Swaying Willow was back in Iron Tower with my father, I decided to send him a message on the wings of a dove, though I kept the specifics to myself.

    ¡°Mandate that could make words appear and disappear on paper?¡± I wrote, ¡°Express unsettling knowledge of my actions. No one here has made any move to capitalize.¡±

    Several days later, I received something bearing Swaying Willow¡¯s mark.

    ¡°Sparrow, I hope this message finds you well. ¡±

    I turned it over. The length of a message that could be sent by homing dove was limited, but still there was plenty of space for the message to go on. It appeared that Swaying Willow had simply forgotten to finish writing the note before sending it off. Perhaps the old man¡¯s mind was slipping faster after so much excitement. I shook my head and let the matter rest to go about my business, vowing to pick the thread back up if I earned more ''achievements.¡¯

    When I earned more achievements, as I did not intend for my rise in the ranks to stop here.

    Every day, as I trained hard, studied harder, and attended meetings held by the Marshal, my thoughts often turned to dreams of Lady Ding, whom I called Shadow River, or simply River from then on. Nearly every night she dined with me in my chambers, or delivered notes for me to meet her in the gardens, or at the palace gates to stroll through the lantern-lit capital.

    We stole moments together like assassins in the night, and though I wouldn¡¯t admit it for a long time, River¡¯s campaign to conquer my heart was succeeding, span by span, li by li.

    While she waged her war in gardens and beneath strings of lanterns and upon moonlit ferry rides down the Blue River, Uncle waged his in the Hall of Benign Virtue with markedly less success. Every point of order introduced by the Marshal was hotly debated by the clan leaders still in the capital or by their chosen delegates. There were still rebels cropping up here and there, and minor squabbles between lords that needed adjudicating, but largely the debates centered around ranks, lands, and other rewards gained for service to the Emperor. Minor shifts in power, as the Land Under Heaven settled upon its frame like a new addition to a house.

    My Uncle spoke little, and when he did, I found that he had little power to sway the others in matters that did not pertain to the cold plains around Iron Tower, or our other holdings in the scrubby hills and windblown marshes.

    I might have grown restless, and railed against my father¡¯s order to stay silent and defer to Uncle, had I not been so content in my time spent outside the Marshal¡¯s meeting hall ¨C which is to say, had I not been so distracted.

    Even so, if the majority of my mind was on happier matters, there was still some semblance of an ambitious and paranoid young soldier that could not help but wonder at Snow Fox¡¯s motives for participating in the slaughter of the Gray Dowager and her clan. Perhaps it was the fact that I now had a personal, if oblique tie to the Gray Dowager, through River. Perhaps it was the needling of the writer of the ¡®achievements.¡¯ In any case, I felt that the nice ¡®tidy¡¯ transfer of power was a stone sinking in a pond. And there would be ripples.

    The Grand Marshal¡¯s meetings were the best place for me to study Snow Fox and try to ascertain his motives for allowing his bannerman to bloody his sword.

    ¡°What are we to do about these eunuchs then?¡± Grand Marshal Oxblood had said, sword held out to one side, as if he was so weary he could not remain seated in the place of honor without its support. His horned and shaggy helm shook with supposed exasperation.

    ¡°Summary execution might have been too strong,¡± said Noble Lion, rubbing his own eyes, ¡°but leaving them to their devices was a mistake.¡±

    Noble Lion was one of the few men of worth, by my reckoning, who had stayed in the capital and suffered through the inane grandstanding of a grid-locked bureaucracy.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I must agree with you,¡± said Snow Fox. ¡°But we cannot correct that mistake now. They¡¯ve committed no new crimes, and while it might be expedient for the Empire to trigger another impromptu extermination, it would not be right or fair.¡±

    The Marshal nodded at that. ¡°The mother of the Emperor has forbidden further bloodshed in the palace, regardless.¡±

    ¡°Then we are trapped,¡± said Snow Fox, slowly and sagaciously. ¡°We cannot disobey the Mother-Empress. Nor will the Ten Imperial Attendants be foolish enough to allow themselves to be lured from the palace if there are those who would cut them down the moment they stepped outside the protection of the Empress''s armistice.¡± He gave the Marshal a reproachful look at that. ¡°Whatever we do would pose more danger to the Emperor than letting the Ten be.¡±

    Again, his reasoning was both sound and just, and I struggled to reconcile this man with the pragmatic brutality at the house of the Gray Moon-Moth clan.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°You may be right, Ding Yuan.¡± I was startled to hear the Marshal use Snow Fox¡¯s personal name. Perhaps the two elder statesmen were closer than I had realized.

    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± continued the Marshal, ¡°A plan comes to mind.¡±

    ¡°Why do I get the sense that this plan poses great risk to the empire?¡± asked Snow Fox.

    ¡°No plan is without risk,¡± said Uncle. ¡°But every risk should be weighed before charging.¡±

    I struggled to keep from shaking my head in disappointment. Uncle was spouting platitudes as if we were all youths on our first battle raid. Perhaps my uncle was still a shrewd general, but in terms of getting anything done politically, he was so far out of his depth it made my skin crawl.

    Yet the Marshal nodded as if my Uncle¡¯s words were somehow helpful. ¡°When honorable heroes can do nothing,¡± said the Marshal, ¡°perhaps the land could do with a villain or two. We need someone willing to attract the Ox Empress¡¯s ire.¡±

    The Marshal gaze slid along those assembled, and perhaps it was just my imagination, but I thought he lingered upon me longer than the others.

    No, I thought. Absolutely not. Not a chance.

    Things were going far too well for me to risk something as stupid as pissing off an Empress Dowager who had just had her competitor¡¯s entire clan killed.

    I was finally my father¡¯s heir, even if that role would be short-lived without a Mandate. A beautiful, intelligent, interesting Imperial concubine a hundred ranks above me had taken a liking to me, and there was a real chance she might become my wife if things continued in this direction. Iron Tower was secure beneath my father¡¯s stern gaze, and most of all, the Land Under Heaven appeared to be at peace for the first time in my lifetime. Aftershocks of rebellion and disagreements over spoils were nothing compared to the last six years¡­ or what history would suggest lurked just around every corner.

    When no one spoke, I looked around the room and found Noble Lion fixing me with a look that could only be described as pleading. I did not know him particularly well at this point, but I could say that I respected him. He was both a man of action and a man of virtue. He was a key player on the stage, but not overly self-interested. It was perhaps this admiration for him that led me to speak, but not as I had on the night we placed Emperor Shining Light on the throne.

    ¡°The Imperial Protectors of the provinces,¡± I began carefully, mindful of the fact that most of the people within this room were high enough rank to take my head if I misspoke, ¡°placed the Emperor on the throne at great physical and political risk to us and our clans. If we do the same in taking care of the Ten Imperial Attendants, we can all share the blame in going against the Mother-Empress¡¯s wishes. A swift, united front from the lords once more and the Empire can remain at peace, with an Emperor empowered to serve his nation as Heaven commands. Strike quickly and no one can stop us. Strike together and the burden of retribution will be light spread across so many backs.¡±

    The long pause had given me time to craft my words as I thought Noble Lion might, and I was quite proud of the result. But when I looked over toward him, I saw not pleading in his eyes, but¡­ pity? The Marshal for his part, shook his head in disappointment.

    ¡°Perhaps this situation is more complex than I thought,¡± said the Marshal. ¡°Perhaps what is needed is too much to ask of any of you. I will think on this more. Perhaps there is still some course of action I might put into motion. Go. That is enough for today.¡±

    The warlords and their retainers rose and filed out, likely to go about their business as if it were any other day of palace politics. They were probably patting themselves on the back for another day of meeting, feeling important, and ultimately getting nothing done.

    I, however, sat there stunned. It had been a good plan. It may not have been the plan the Marshal was looking for, not the right answer to his puzzle, but it was a correct answer. It would work. Why didn¡¯t he want it to work?

    Did he want me to raise my sword and say, ¡°I¡¯ll do it! I¡¯ll go slaughter the Ten Imperial Attendants and then report to the Ox Empress to await my execution.¡± She would be right to take my head. It would be murder. It seemed anything other than trading my life for the lives of the Ten Imperial Attendants was unsatisfactory to the Grand Marshal, and I wasn¡¯t entirely sure why that was the case.

    Uncle rose and placed a hand on my shoulder as he departed. It seemed I was not about to be chastised for speaking, at least, but nor would my actions today steer the Land Under Heaven in the right direction.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, you know,¡± came the voice beside me. It was deep and rich, refined without being weak, youthful without being young. The informal tone was so different from what I had listened to these past few months, it took me a second to recognize the voice as belonging to Noble Lion. ¡°It would have worked.¡±

    Was he reading my thoughts? No, of course not. I had seen Noble Lion¡¯s Mandate in all its glory on the yellow plains. It had nearly ensnared not only all three rebel generals, but contained every rebel beneath their influence, the cleanest possible end to a rebellion. Nearly.

    ¡°Unfortunately for the Land under Heaven,¡± Noble Lion was saying, sitting on the table beside me. ¡°The Marshal¡¯s not looking for a workable plan, he¡¯s looking to hear the one he¡¯s already decided on. And it''s a very bad one.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I had known the Marshal liked to form consensus before acting, but I had hoped that if any idea where sound enough, he would consider it. It would mean these meetings actually meant something, that my role here was actually important.

    ¡°You heard what he said about villains?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Well, he wants to summon all the warlords back to the capital, even the ones who never bothered to show up in the first place. He wants armies at the Emperor¡¯s doorstep once me, not politicians. It''s the only way a Marshal is more powerful than a eunuch¡­ or an Empress.¡±

    ¡°You think there¡¯s a rift in the Tan Ox clan?¡±

    Noble Lion sighed. ¡°Probably not. But there¡¯s definitely a rift between their clan and the eunuchs now. That alliance only lived as long as it took to get the Ox Empress¡¯s son on the throne. But we came too close to killing the eunuchs in the process for them to stomach her any longer. They want her out and they want the Marshal out. And if he¡¯s reverting back to overwhelming force of arms, it''s not going well for him.¡±

    I was stunned at that. Here I thought the Land Under Heaven was at peace. I didn¡¯t realize that rock thrown into the pond was actually a serpent, slithering back up to the surface.

    ¡°But we can¡¯t allow the Emperor to end up in the middle of a battlefield,¡± Noble Lion went on. ¡°I needed you to voice the Marshal¡¯s plan so I could publicly refute it, or he may just go ahead and summon the provincial armies anyway.¡±

    ¡°So these meetings are a farce.¡±

    Noble Lion laughed. ¡°Why do you think our fathers left us here? This room is filled with seconds and thirds-in-command? I can¡¯t say I like that plan either.¡±

    ¡°You think the warlords should be here.¡±

    ¡°I think the voices at this table should actually matter. The land may be at peace, but how long will that last if there¡¯s not a balance in the palace. United warlords with an actual say, eunuchs with limits on their roles, and a powerful Emperor on the throne once more. That''s the only way we can stabilize this whole rotten structure.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say. I¡¯m sorry things didn¡¯t turn out that way. I saw the folly of his plan and I didn¡¯t want to support it. I didn¡¯t know that there was another layer to it.¡±

    Noble Lion let out a chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Sparrow. I didn¡¯t stay to chastise you. It''s not my place and it''s not deserved. In fact, you seem to be the only one in here that I can count on. It was my mistake not to approach you earlier and discuss these things. In fact, allow me to formally introduce myself.¡±

    He stood and bowed, holding a gold-plated pendant out to me.

    I scrambled to my feet and bowed just a little bit lower as I took it.

    <h6> </h6>

    NOBLE LION

    RANK 17: General of the Multitude Riding a Four Horse Chariot

    WORTH: 850 dan

    CLAN: Golden Lion | STAR: Yellow | FATE: Sky-Field ¡°The Fortress¡±

    MANDATE: Stone Fortress Summons

    I looked at the card, to Noble Lion and back to the card, dumbfounded. Rank 17?! He was only a few years older than me and not even the oldest of his father¡¯s sons, yet he was still worth double my salary. And he commanded his father¡¯s entire armies, as opposed to a hundred or so cavalry. Well, in the capital I commanded exactly one bodyguard, one horse, and myself. What¡¯s more was that Noble Lion was pushing the top of the noble class, rather than the top of the peasantry, as I was.

    Is this what I could have been had I manifested a Mandate on time?

    Noble Lion looked used to the look I was giving him now. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so impressed. My older brother is a drunk and my father can stay awake for maybe one hour in ten. I¡¯ve had plenty of opportunity to prove myself on the field of battle. You¡¯ll get your turn.¡±

    I forced a smile and handed his pendant back. ¡°When?¡± I asked.

    Noble Lion let out a breath, as if he hadn¡¯t expected to actually have to answer that question. ¡°Well, you have me there. The Marshal, Snow Fox, some of the others¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that it''s about time some leaders from our generation started taking some responsibility. After all, the future of the Land depends on us, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°If only we could take responsibility. There never seems to be any space for us.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t last forever.¡±

    ¡°It feels like it will. It feels like these meetings are going to last forever.¡±

    Noble Lion laughed and then paused as if struck by a thought. ¡°You know what might put things in perspective¡­¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°What if we got a reading?¡±

    ¡°A reading?¡±

    ¡°From the Book of Changes. Not from some village grandma or your aunt in the parlor. A real reading from an actual philosopher. The Philosopher. He lives right here in the palace.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure knowing our future will help us deal with the present.¡±

    ¡°Come on. We¡¯ll make a thing of it. If nothing else, it will be something for the other young lords and ladies to bond over. You heard the Marshal use Snow Fox¡¯s personal name. The old guard has all of their old friendships. I think it''s time we started making some of our own.¡±

    I thought about it. All my life, I had been an outcast because I hadn¡¯t manifested a Mandate. Since my father¡¯s ultimatum, I had almost given up on the notion of gaining any allies that weren¡¯t sworn to my clan or related to me. How could I say no to an offer like that from someone like Noble Lion? In the end, I didn¡¯t even try.

 Chapter 16: Sparrow Learns Just How Out of His Depth He Is with River, but Turns the Tides on Her

    ¡°Why are you so hesitant about this? Everything he said is true,¡± River said.

    Since the Marshall¡¯s meetings had run into the evening, and I had stayed behind to speak with Noble Lion, the lady was already waiting for me in my rooms when I returned, and she served both me and Windstopper dumplings before sitting down to her own meal.

    After having seen her pendant and having realized that she was Rank one-hundred-and-five it probably should have been me who was serving her. She was worth about three times what I was ¨C even though I was an officer, a knight, and an heir ¨C and you¡¯d have to search the far corners of the Land Under Heaven to find more than a dozen people who outranked her. But when I had said as much, she blew me off.

    She was keyed into my agitation and had filled my winebowl to the brim more than once. I took another long drink before responding.

    ¡°I have to go to the reading. I know that. In fact, Noble Lion has done exactly what I would do if¡­¡±

    ¡°If what?¡±

    Difference in rank or not, this was the conversation I had most feared since deciding that I was interested in a future with River. In fact, I had hoped that I would never have to have this conversation. One little flash of power, one little bit of evidence of my gift and there would have been no need. Even so, it wasn¡¯t something I could hide from someone I cared about. I could never ask River to tie herself to me without first letting her know my prospects¡­ or the lack thereof.

    ¡°My father took me for countless readings over the years. They never make any sense. This is because as far as I know¡­¡±

    She put the porcelain wine jug back in its place and sat beside me, giving me her full attention. There was no help for it. Tear the bandage off and clean up the blood afterward.

    ¡°As far as I know, I have no Mandate of Heaven.¡± The words came out in a jumble.

    She looked at me, expression unreadable.

    I repeated myself but she still didn¡¯t react so I went on. ¡°Er, not yet anyway. But my hope is that if I push myself for the next year or so¡­¡±

    The words sounded hollow and desperate, even to me, and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to finish the thought.

    ¡°And you¡¯re worried that if you go to the reading, the Philosopher will say as much in front of everyone.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question.

    When River shifted closer and put her hand on my arm, Windstopper looked up from his bowl for the first time. His eyes flicked to me and then to River and then, shrugging, he helped himself to some more buns.

    I couldn¡¯t meet River¡¯s eye.

    ¡°Wait, you think I care about your Mandate,¡± River continued. ¡°You think I care if you have one or not. Sparrow, some of the most horrible, hopeless, useless people I have ever known have had some of the most powerful and impressive gifts I have ever seen. You¡¯re not them. You are destined for greatness if Heaven wills it or not.¡±

    I was thunderstruck. River didn¡¯t care about my lowly rank in comparison to hers. In fact, I don¡¯t think she cared about rank at all. She had served dumplings to Windstopper and he was literally one step up from a peasant ¨C not that I cared. Windstopper¡¯s job was to keep me safe and he looked damned good at his job. Plus his innocence was rare and had kept me sane on more than one grim occasion. I valued Windstopper more than his rank did. I valued myself more than my rank did. So I could understand how River could disregard rank when it came to people close to her. But now River was saying she didn¡¯t care about the Mandate of Heaven either? Even when it came to decisions she would have to make about her future?

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°I know I can do great things if given the chance. I will. It¡¯s not my fortune I fear, River. It¡¯s the hexagram they will assign me in front of everyone. I once watched an entire room full of lords write someone off because of two false steps. If I were to be assigned a fate that seems weak or useless in front of the others, I may never be worth an alliance, much less a position of prominence among them. Even if I manifest some powerful Mandate and ascend to my father¡¯s seat, if people believe that my destiny is to be weak or inept, they will never stop harrying me. Something as simple as a misstep could be the end of my ambitions, so imagine how detrimental a reading of every step I¡¯m going to take for my entire life could be!¡± I snorted a bitter laugh. ¡°Other than that, Noble Lion¡¯s invitation would be everything I could hope for.¡±

    ¡°Windstopper?¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± The big man looked up, noodles dangling from his chin.

    ¡°Could you please fetch my scroll?¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°The one I was reading earlier on the couch.¡±

    ¡°Hm Hm.¡± He crossed to the far side of the room.

    ¡°No, not that one, the one about the woman and the carriage.¡±

    She turned back toward me as Windstopper began rifling through the scrolls to see which one she wanted. ¡°Can I tell you a secret, Sparrow? Something not a single other man under Heaven knows?¡±

    ¡°If it doesn¡¯t put you in any danger.¡±

    She waved a hand. ¡°Among the many concubines chosen by the Gray Dowager to pull her son out of his stupor, every one of them had a very powerful Mandate.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure this was making me feel any better, but I trusted River enough to let her get to her point.

    ¡°You see, we were chosen not just for our ability to reason with his majesty, but our potential for giving him an heir with a very powerful and unique gift. They¡¯re not wholly hereditary, but it''s said that once-royal bloodlines play a part. Some of the other girls could dance with the wind, or shape the rain as it fell, or summon serpents from beams of solid wood. But do you want to know the women I feared most in the harem?¡±

    This was definitely not making me feel any better, but she drew my face up to meet hers.

    ¡°The most frightening ones were those who hid their gifts, but had been chosen by the Gray Dowager anyway. The very fact that they were in the same room as those other girls meant that they had real power, but until they used it, I had no idea what they could do, nor any idea how I could prepare to defend myself. They might be able to read thoughts, or steal the breath from my lungs, or control my body like the strings of a puppet. The things I imagined they could do were far worse than anything they ever wound up using against me. So I kept my own gift secret. And to this day, not a single person, aside from the Gray Dowager, has ever seen what I can do and lived. What I learned from that harem is this: no matter how terrible the things you know, there is always greater fear lurking in the unknown.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying¡­ that I should pretend to have a gift.¡±

    ¡°Here You Are My Lady.¡± Windstopper looked uncertain as he handed River the Song of Luofu. She took it and thanked him. Task accomplished, he let out a breath. It wouldn¡¯t have mattered what book Windstopper handed her, but I was surprised to find that the big, simple man had chosen right. He was certainly¡­ unique in the way he approached things. And barely literate, like many of his rank were. But he was not, in any way, unintelligent.

    River turned my face back towards her own.

    ¡°I¡¯m saying, Sparrow, that if you¡¯re there in the same room as those other powerful people, the absence of your gift will be far more frightening to them than if you were to dangle the very power of the Great Ancestor before their faces. Say nothing about your Mandate. Do nothing about your Mandate. Deflect and be humble, and they will assume you¡¯re more powerful than the most brazen of them. By the time anyone even suspects this is your plan, you will have found a dozen other ways to surpass them.¡±

    ¡°Hm, that is very good advice,¡± I said, finishing my wine and refilling River¡¯s bowl before my own. ¡°I can¡¯t wait for you to see it in action.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I always appreciated when she directed her well-honed feminine arts against me, so long as they were a deceptive means to a virtuous end. But I took real joy in seeing the cold, shiny smile of her facade crack. Even after weeks of spending time together, I still had to work to get to the real River beneath the surface.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re coming with me,¡± I said, ¡°And don¡¯t worry, I checked with Noble Lion. Many of the young lords will be accompanied by concubines. This is, after all, a palace affair.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± The surface of her calm shattered.

 Chapter 17: The World Opens For Windstopper; Sparrow Attempts Misdirection at a Meeting of Lords

    ¡°Why Do I Need New Robes. My Other Robes Do Not Have Any Holes.¡±

    I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d make it out of that room alive, and Windstopper, my supposedly loyal bodyguard was no help. In the end, River agreed to go with me. Once Noble Lion had set the date, I didn¡¯t see my escort for a few days. Apparently, preparing for such an affair took a lot of preparation on her part.

    For my part, I already had more than a few robes in the colors of clan Silver Falcon, thanks to the palace staff, and Windstopper had one as well; probably in case he ever needed to appear by my father¡¯s side during a formal meeting while we had been out on campaign. But tonight, my bodyguard was not appearing out on campaign, and he was not appearing by my father¡¯s side.

    ¡°Because, Windstopper,¡± I said to him, as I helped the mountain of a man into enough silk to make a small sailcloth, ¡°the other formal robes my father gave to you are only in the colors of the Silver Falcon clan.¡±

    ¡°I Am In the Silver Falcon Clan.¡±

    ¡°You are. As am I. But we¡¯re more than just our clan. We¡¯re powerful in our own right. And tonight it''s important that everyone sees that.¡±

    Windstopper looked at his reflection in the large disk of bronze by the wardrobe.

    ¡°I Look Like a Lord.¡± He said in the closest thing he got to an exclamation.

    I had thought to make Windstopper¡¯s attire a perfect match to my own, but in the end, I had decided that ¡®homogenous¡¯ was the old way of doing things. It was the Marshal¡¯s way of doing things. I would not rob Windstopper of his own claim to power, and though he could not remember what star he had been born under ¨C such things were not tracked so closely by commoners, as they so rarely manifested any gifts ¨C I had decided that, along with the traditional colors of sky essence, one of two manifestations of the silver star so common in the Silver Falcon clan, a small slash of something else was in order. After all, I didn¡¯t know of a single man within my father¡¯s command who had a Mandate that could stop the wind. A slash of vibrant teal lined his collar, along with silver and white. It felt right.

    ¡°You look like a Hero of our Times,¡± I said to him. ¡°Now help me into mine.¡±

    Once my father had reached Iron Tower and officially made me his heir, my rank, and therefore my salary had increased substantially. The robes Windstopper now helped me don had cost a decent share of my new annual income and my bodyguard¡¯s had cost twice as much on account of his size.

    Once we were dressed, standing before the copper disk, I realized they had been worth every ounce of copper and grain.

    ¡°You Don¡¯t Look Anything Like Your Father.¡± said Windstopper.

    I laughed and adjusted the robes. ¡°That¡¯s the point. Tonight is not about our clans or parents. Tonight is not about where we have come from. Tonight is about who we will be. It¡¯s about what the Land Under Heaven will be for the next ten, twenty, possibly even hundred years.¡±

    ¡°We Will Not Be Alive In One Hundred Years.¡±

    ¡°No. But what we make will be.¡±

    On my own robes, my father¡¯s silver, white, and grays were offset by slashes of black and blue for the star I had been born under. I had thought it too many colors to cram onto a single set of garments, but, given the lady¡¯s advice, I realized now that it would be perfect for my purposes tonight. I saw now that the tailor had even taken it upon himself to include purple in the trim, which seemed to work perfectly with the other colors.

    Let the others guess at what they all meant. Purple wasn¡¯t even a color traditionally associated with my Black Star! And even I didn¡¯t know to what essence Windstopper¡¯s blue-green corresponded.

    If my star and my Mandate were a battlefield, my position and formation tonight would be nearly undecipherable. Given that, I now felt I understood a small facet of the battlefield upon which River had spent her entire adult life. The game of powerful concubines was the game of attracting attention in the front rooms while removing rivals in the back. I am sure some of them used poison or daggers or assassins, or other more mundane means, but the most powerful weapon, both on the battlefield and in the Palace of Happiness, was always the Mandate from Heaven.

    Of course, once the Philosopher spoke, they would all know exactly where our prospects for the future stood, and all the misdirection leading up to it could be thrown to the wind.

    I took a deep breath and a mouthful of wine while we waited for the attendant to come lead us through the maze.

    So long as I don¡¯t get Leaf and Sky, a future with a ¡°Small Harvest,¡± I thought. Or maybe Mountain-Iron. Sounds great at first until you read that it means ¡°Shrinking Away.¡± That could only be interpreted as a bad fortune.

    A last desperate desire to call the whole thing off surged through me even as the servant appeared at my door.

    With one last adjustment of my own robe, and then a pat on Windstopper¡¯s broad shoulders, we followed the attendant through the twists and turns of the palace, to the Hall of Sixty-Four.

    The hall itself lived up to its name. While most names of halls within the palace were poetic and extremely figurative, sometimes requiring whole texts to describe how they had been dubbed, this one was surprisingly literal.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The room was a large square, lined on every side by pillars. Four arcades around the edges even now filled with lords that I vaguely recognized, and ladies I had only ever heard about in River¡¯s stories.

    The young lords and ladies spoke in muted, excited tones about what they might get and raised quiet toasts for luck in the upcoming readings.

    ¡°Do I Have To Stay One Hundred Paces Away Again.¡± asked Windstopper as we entered.

    ¡°No. No, for this crowd, I don¡¯t want you more than two steps away.¡±

    ¡°Why Is Everyone Standing On The Side Of The Room.¡±

    ¡°Because the floor isn¡¯t a floor, Windstopper. It¡¯s a chart of destiny.¡±

    The center of the room was open to the heavens, and though the night sky was brilliant this time of year, it was the floor that held everyone¡¯s attention.

    Scanning the lords and ladies, I realized that they all seemed to know someone here, or many ¡®someone¡¯s. Somehow, I had never managed to make the introductions necessary to form friendships among the other clans. Such trivialities weren¡¯t high on my father¡¯s list, and could have proved a vulnerability besides until I manifested a Mandate.

    ¡°It Looks Like A Floor.¡±

    Suddenly I was very happy not only to have Windstopper guarding my back, but to have him to talk to. We walked over toward the tiled gridwork that dominated the center of the room.

    ¡°Look closely though. You may have seen one before, but they¡¯re usually much smaller. You see on the north side? The eight essences of the elements. Sky and Iron for the Silver Star. That¡¯s my father¡¯s star. Then there¡¯s Root and Leaf for the Green Star. Flame for Red. Water for Black. That¡¯s my star. Then Mountain and Field for the Yellow Star.¡±

    ¡°They Are Also On The Other Side.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The same eight essences on the north and the west. Where they meet they form a hexagram. Eight essences on top and eight essences on the side makes a grid of sixty four hexagrams, each delineated by the six lines ¨C some broken, some unbroken ¨C to indicate the combination of their essences. Are you following all this?¡±

    ¡°It Is Not Hard. The Rules Are Simple. Though I Do Not Understand How Lines Are Supposed To Tell The Future.¡±

    He might not have seen something like this before, but Windstopper wasn¡¯t stupid. After all, fates and reading and stars were something only the well-born could afford to get lost in. There was probably a chart of the essences in every high-born lady¡¯s drawing room, and on every lord¡¯s study shelf.

    But the scale of this chart was¡­ dizzying. It lent real credence to the readings that would come out of it, as if fate itself were huge and undeniable.

    ¡°You have me there, Windstopper. But telling the future is that man¡¯s job.¡± I pointed to where a wizened old form sat alone at the northern arcade, on a cushion of every color. He was perhaps my father¡¯s age, though the years had been harder on the Philosopher, a man who bore the weight of the stars, rather than that of a mere nation. ¡°The Philosopher¡¯s job is to figure out how the person, the stars and the reading of the chart all come together to form a destiny. They say he has his own very special Mandate to do it.¡±

    A smile slowly grew on Windstopper¡¯s face as he took it all in, as if he stood atop a mountain and the clouds had cleared. All possibilities suddenly lay before him. Every direction was suddenly open to him. For me, it was like looking down at a thousand foot drop.

    ¡°It''s not so intimidating, once you know what you are,¡± said Noble Lion, sauntering up, looking resplendent in not only golden thread, but silver, white, and a duller metallic yellow as well, fibers of perhaps brass or bronze. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten Heaven-Earth ever since I was a boy. Twenty readings over the years and still it''s always ¡®the Fortress, the Fortress.¡¯ I¡¯m beginning to think all philosophers are in cahoots.¡±

    ¡°It makes sense given your star and your Mandate,¡± I said with as much confidence as I could muster. ¡°Good to see you, Noble Lion. Outside of the Marshal¡¯s meeting room, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Likewise, Sparrow.¡± He sipped from his cup. A chaste sip of wine, perhaps to hide his expression of interest. ¡°Have you¡­ had a reading done before?¡±

    It was one thing to commit to trusting River back in my quarters, it was quite another to put her plan into action before a man who could rearrange the earth beneath his feet. But if it was a good plan before sundown and there was no new information, so¡­

    ¡°Fate is fluid,¡± I replied cooly. A little too cooly, it felt, so I decided to deflect as the lady had advised, ¡°Alas, my readings never seem to quite make sense for me. Guess I¡¯ve never sprung for the expensive philosophers.¡±

    Noble Lion laughed. ¡°Too true, Sparrow. Too true.¡±

    Good, good, I thought to myself, cast as much doubt on the process as possible, so that even if I get something dumb like Field-Field, second hexagram, ¡°The Receptive Womb,¡± I could always laugh it off.

    River would have been proud of that response.

    But where was she?

    I scanned the crowd of young lords and concubines. Some men my age had even already taken wives and had brought them here tonight. It was not uncommon to marry quickly when life could be so short and heirs were essential to both clan and kingdom.

    Noble Lion seemed to be thinking something similar as he tracked my gaze. ¡°Have you made a match yet?¡±

    ¡°A wife you mean? No, not yet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re resisting your father as long as you can,¡± Noble Lion laughed. ¡°No doubt he¡¯s keen to trade you away for another sliver of land in Trappersburrow, or a few dozen bushels of grain more per year, just as mine is.¡±

    I forced a laugh. Matchmaking among the higher ranks required tests. Lots of tests. And one of those tests was meant to prove you had a real and powerful Mandate from Heaven. After all, no one wanted to risk having a dud like me as a grandchild, no matter how many bushels of grain I came with.

    If heirs were supposed to be the direct result of a marriage, alliances were the indirect result. A common set of grandchildren had a way of making border disputes disappear and cooler heads prevail. In that context, I supposed, a reading of ¡°The Receptive Womb¡± might be exactly what many of these lords and ladies sought.

    In any case, I had been right to hire my own tailor, as the colors of this younger court were as eclectic as-

    Suddenly every thought flew from my mind, because suddenly there she was, like a reflection of moonlight in the blackest of nights. River had chosen for her robes, every color and also no color. Her garments were all made up of an inky black satin that made the robes themselves all but invisible, and brought to life every shade of her blue-black hair, her shimmering skin, her eyes as deep as dark pools.

    She seemed to float across the room as she entered and took up her position by my side.

    When I could finally pull my eyes from her, I saw that every other stare within the Hall of Sixty-Four had been upon her, as well. The room had quieted as she walked ¨C and darkened perhaps, as well ¨C but now young lords made excuses to their wives for their distraction, and jealous glares shot like daggers towards River.

    Sharper barbs had been flung at her from more practiced hands, no doubt, and their gazes sunk into her without a splash.

 Chapter 18: Sparrow and Lion Make a Powerful New Acquaintance Thanks to Rivers Introduction

    ¡°We match,¡± I said by way of greeting¡­ and perhaps as peace offering for having trapped her into coming here.

    ¡°I know,¡± she said, eying the many-tiled floor guardedly before her eyes flashed to mine. ¡°Knowledge is everything within the court. You don¡¯t think I¡¯d know where you¡¯d get your clothes from?¡±

    She leaned in and whispered, ¡°The purple was my idea.¡±

    ¡°I like it,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you. And you¡­¡±

    I couldn¡¯t think of a way to put what I saw into words. I just wished she could see herself through my eyes for a moment. I can only say that the look she cast in my direction was the most unreadable I had ever seen from her dark eyes, as if their depths contained multitudes, and for the moment¡­

    No. It was gone and her mask was back up.

    She turned her courtly smile from me to Noble Lion, who shuffled a bit awkwardly at having been cut out of the conversation. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about him the moment River walked in.

    ¡°And you, my lord, you are called Noble Lion, are you not?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Lion lit up. ¡°What may I call you?¡±

    ¡°River will suffice,¡± she said with a glance toward me. ¡°Are you unaccompanied this evening?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± his eyes flicked over her head, to the crowd beyond. I followed his gaze, and it fell on¡­ White Stallion? She was dressed, not as a court lady, but as any officer might be at a formal matter. I had to admit, it suited her.

    She wore white, of course, but it was trimmed with off-whites, pale grays and creams. It was masterfully crafted attire, as I knew just by looking at her that she was a cavalry officer of the highest caliber, that while the novice might look upon a white horse and call it simply a white horse, she knew the many colors, variations, and dispositions you might find among a wild herd.

    ¡°Um,¡± I said, when it became clear that Noble Lion was as lost for words as I had been a moment ago. ¡°Perhaps you could introduce us?¡±

    Noble Lion¡¯s gaze flicked from me to White Stallion, then back to me. ¡°Me? I¡¯ve never spoken to her outside of the Marshal¡¯s meetings. Perhaps you could introduce me!¡±

    ¡°Oh, come you two,¡± said River, all well-practiced pomp. ¡°I will introduce all of us.¡±

    She did just that. Cutting through the crowd, River gave a brief bow to the woman in white, but did not offer her pendant as she outranked nearly everyone in this room. ¡°You are White Stallion are you not? Excuse the intrusion, my friend was just praising your valor and virtue, and I knew I must meet you.¡±

    ¡°Valor and virtue, eh? Noble Lion said that?¡±

    Lion blushed. ¡°We were simply discussing matters of politics and your name happened to come up¡­¡±

    ¡°I have to admit,¡± said Stallion, ¡°It¡¯s Noble Lion here who appears to be the voice of reason in those meetings. And if anyone¡¯s going to get anything done, it will be Sparrow here. Are you accompanying him?¡±

    ¡°He is accompanying me,¡± said River with another nod. There was a complicated series of formal introductions and eventually after we all had a look at each other¡¯s pendants, we knew exactly where we stood on the relative scales of society.

    <h6> </h6>

    WHITE STALLION

    RANK 14: Leader of the Professionals at the Vanguard

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    WORTH: 700 dan

    CLAN: WHITE HORSE | STAR: Silver | FATE: Unknown

    MANDATE: Aura of Courage

    ¡°Well, look at this,¡± said River, picking the conversational thread back up that formalities tended to tangle, ¡°a lion, a stallion, and a sparrow go to consult an oracle¡­ It sounds like the beginning of a proverb!¡±

    ¡°And you, my lady?¡± said White Stallion, chuckling. ¡°Where do you fit in?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t,¡± said the lady. ¡°I am called River.¡±

    ¡°Well there you have it,¡± Noble Lion jumped in, ¡°A lion, a stallion, and a sparrow go to consult an oracle¡­ but first they must cross a mysterious river.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well done, Lion,¡± said Stallion.

    River gave her most alluringly mischievous smile, though I knew it all to be an act. Still I laughed along with them before cutting in.

    ¡°The river, however, poses no danger to the sparrow, as he alone can fly,¡± I said, looping River¡¯s arm around mine, ¡°leaving the lion and the stallion alone on the riverbank.¡±

    As I led my escort away, Stallion guffawed at my turn of phrase, but there was a moment of pleading in Lion¡¯s eyes. I winked at him and he seemed to bolster himself before turning back to the woman in white.

    ¡°I wonder,¡± whispered River, conspiratorially, ¡°If we¡¯ve just left him to drown.¡±

    ¡°If anyone can navigate a conversation with Stallion, it¡¯s Noble Lion.¡± Then, dropping my voice, I proceeded to tell her how it was Noble Lion¡¯s wordsmithing and White Stallion¡¯s aura of courage that had unified the other warlords to put the current Emperor on the throne. I wondered, halfway through the telling, if it was a good idea to speak of how we had all contributed to events that had, eventually, resulted in the death of a woman River had cared for as a mother, but her face remained impassive throughout, and I was sure she already knew what had unfolded.

    Suddenly my whispering did not seem so quiet, as the room had gone utterly silent as if on cue.

    The Philosopher had risen from his cushion. It was time to begin the readings.

    Noble Lion strode out to the edge of the floor and clapped his hands. I was a bit surprised to see him take such a position as master of ceremonies, but perhaps I shouldn''t have been; Lion had invited me personally, but it had seemed so casual coming from his lips that I hadn¡¯t guessed he had been the one to orchestrate the entire event.

    ¡°My lords, my ladies,¡± he began, ¡°Sers and Madames. Friends old and new and friends to be. Cousins. Even half-brothers! Welcome.¡±

    ¡°Welcome, yourself!¡± another young man who easily could have been related to Noble Lion had his face not been so ruddy, raised a drinking bowl, and many of the young lords laughed in response.

    ¡°Thanks, Shu,¡± Lion said with a wink. It finally clicked for me that the man with the drinking bowl was Yuan Shu, called Golden Goat, half-brother to Noble Lion and the future head of their clan.

    ¡°Hopefully you¡¯ve all eaten to your heart''s content, found courageous new allies, and drank enough to be willing to face fate!¡±

    Another jibe from Golden Goat that I didn¡¯t make out, but the others laughed all the harder for its incoherence.

    ¡°And yet, lords and ladies, knights and loyal retainers¡­¡± Noble Lion dropped his voice, while his tone darkened considerably; we now hung upon his every word. ¡°...the Book of Changes is no party trick. A reading from the Emperor¡¯s own philosopher is as inescapable as a tomb, as sacred as an oath, as powerful as the roving stars of Heaven themselves. But fear not, friends, for you already carry your fate within you, and the Philosopher simply makes the truth be known. Now! Who claims the honor of the first reading?!¡±

    There had been a dozen pompous lords and eager ladies who had seemed as if they might fight to rush out onto the floor when Noble Lion had begun. But after his introduction ¨C or perhaps his warning ¨C none of them seemed to want to step forward.

    ¡°Courage, friends!¡± said Noble Lion, scanning the crowd at the edge of the board. ¡°Or else I¡¯ll have to go first, and bore you all with the same reading, yet again!¡±

    The lords and ladies laughed nervously, but still none stepped forward. I didn¡¯t blame them, as I suddenly couldn¡¯t have pressed myself further into the cover of a pillar.

    ¡°If its courage that''s called for,¡± said White Stallion, swaggering a bit more than usual, as she stepped up to Noble Lion, ¡°look no further.¡±

    ¡°Who else?¡± Noble Lion beamed as he yielded the floor. He had orchestrated the event beautifully, and who was better to lead the charge than White Stallion? I was suddenly proud to have made such auspicious ¨C and bold ¨C acquaintances.

    The Philosopher himself, however, had no such love for fanfare. The moment White Stallion stood before him, he fixed her with such a stare, with such intensity, that even though Stallion stood two heads taller than him, her courage seemed on the verge of abandoning her. I felt the flicker of a white aura bolster her, pinning her to the spot as the Philosopher mumbled something under his breath, perhaps a preliminary prophecy meant only for her, perhaps sorting through the very threads of her fate to find where the coins should fall.

    Then his wrist flicked out and three old, beaten, common disks of bronze scattered across the tiles.

    The readings had begun. The first coins had been cast.

 Chapter 19: The Hall of Sixty-Four Speaks

    The Philosopher muttered to himself as he scattered the coins, scooped them up with practice motion, and cast them again and again. I leaned in to hear, ¡°...Strong-unbroken-line, another-unbroken-line, a-third-unbroken-line¡­¡±

    Someone beside me heard the same and whispered to her companion, ¡°Her first sign is Sky. That is good for her. There are many auspicious readings that begin with so strong an essence.¡±

    I have to admit that I was a bit jealous at the time. Sky is one of two manifestations of the Silver star¡¯s power, my father and Uncle¡¯s own. It often lent a sense of refined power to any reading.

    Twice, thrice more the philosopher flicked and collected the coins, moving up and down the floor as the final lines of Stallion¡¯s reading came into focus.

    ¡°Sky-Leaf,¡± the philosopher rasped, though the room was so deathly quiet, he might as well have been roaring it to the heavens, ¡°Forty-fourth-hexagram. Coupling.¡±

    Many of the lords and ladies within the hall snickered, and White Stallion, for the first time since I had known her, turned bright red. I was suddenly so furious at the others¡¯ lack of maturity that I myself turned red.

    I knew the hexagram, I had read the Book of Changes more than once, and I had studied the best-known philosophers¡¯ interpretations of the many hexagrams. Though it was often the sought-after reading for a young lady with a beau she hoped to ensnare, there were many more ways to read it. And yet, White Stallion ¨C one of the few women in the Land under Heaven who dared lead her armies herself, who dared risk the ire of the old guard by speaking for herself in matters of state ¨C had been embarrassed by the way some coins fell.

    No matter what the Philosopher said next, all that these giddy fools would remember was that the confident female leader was soon to be bedded.

    I almost couldn¡¯t hear the prophecy through the snickering and jabs, the Philosopher¡¯s voice was so weathered and low.

    ¡°Impulses-and-emotions-seek-to-control-you-and-turn-your-momentum-aside. Seek-reflection-and-inner-balance-or-auspicious-beginnings-turn-to-inauspicious-ends.¡±

    There, I thought, nothing about being bedded. It was a good reading all things considered, and in time, perhaps the others would come to see the value in an ally such as Stallion, who only needed to keep a cool head in order to succeed.

    But then Golden Goat launched to his feet and stumbled out onto the floor, drinking bowl still in hand and still miraculously full. ¡°I¡¯m next! I¡¯m next! Heaven knows I could use a good coupling! Heaven please send me such a prophecy!¡±

    Uproarious laughter.

    I couldn¡¯t help but feel that Stallion¡¯s years of success and stalwart leadership on the field of battle had been undone in a single flippant comment. As Stallion held her head high, beat-red though she was, and yielded the floor, I thought that the only way for her to salvage the situation would be to draw her sword and slash any man to death who dared make a joke at her expense. It was a rampant thought, and I was surprised at myself for spawning it, but the more I turned it over in my head, the more I found it to be true. It was cold but correct, and I wondered if I had the temerity to take such drastic action should I get a similar reading.

    Unfortunately for White Stallion, she did no such thing, and I watched how her standing within the crowd of young lords and ladies began to crumble, with looks of pity or muted comments. I wanted to cross over to her and show her that not everyone had changed their estimation of her based on so inane an interpretation, but any consolation would only make her appear that much weaker in the eyes of the others.

    ¡°Sky-Mountain,¡± the Philosopher rasped. I had almost missed Golden Goat¡¯s reading. Sky-Mountain was one of the many that sounded good but¡­ I smiled at the instant, divine retribution.

    ¡°Thirty-third hexagram. Retreating. Forever-a-follower-should-you-seek-to-lead-the-charge-of-destiny-you-will-bring-wrath-and-ruin-upon-your-own-head.¡±

    The room was stunned into silence. By Heaven! I had heard inauspicious readings before, and thirty-three was certainly an inauspicious tile to begin with. But never before had I heard such doomsaying from a philosopher. And for the oldest son of a great clan? Golden Goat was finished. He may as well retire to his family¡¯s estates and forsake any claim to his birthright then and there. But¡­

    ¡°On my head you say?¡± He sipped from his bowl and squinted drunkenly at the Philosopher. ¡°Then on my head be it!¡±

    He placed his bowl atop his head, and stumbled, tripped, and hopped from the center of the floor, appearing for all the world like the cup atop his head didn¡¯t stand a chance, but when he reached the edge of the room he showed that his drinking bowl was still full to the brim. Many of the lords and ladies were delighted by the trick and applauded, his horrible reading quickly forgotten by many, no doubt. He had flouted his fate the only way possible ¨C by continuing to play the court jester.

    ¡°I,¡± said Noble Lion, in mock nervousness, ¡°think this is as good a place as any for a nice stable reading. Anyone care to guess the result?¡±

    ¡°Fortress!¡± ¡°Fortress!¡± Many of the lords and ladies had apparently been to plenty of readings with Noble Lion before, and, if the woman whispering in front of me was to be trusted, the consistency of Noble Lion¡¯s readings was uncanny. Lion strode out to the center of the room, barely paying attention to the Philosopher, but plying the crowd as much as the board.

    As the first coins rolled, the crowd suddenly went cold. Noble Lion scowled and turned to see what had come up. A solid line to start. The old man casting the coins paused long enough to smile a wicked smile up at Noble Lion, and the bright young man looked suddenly ashen.

    Despite my own words from earlier, fates rarely changed. And when they did, they often changed for the worse. Coins rolled, lines were drawn, and everyone gasped at the final result rippled throughout the crowd.

    ¡°Mountain-to-the-Sky. Twenty-Six. Great-Accumulation-of-Power!¡±

    The color drained even further from Noble Lion¡¯s face, but now, those at the edges of the room had gone from deathly silent to erupting with cheers. As Noble Lion stumbled from the floor, the crowd began to clap him on the back, shake him by the shoulder, and hoist him on their shoulders like a king. It was perhaps the single best outcome for a reading, and the interpretation was all but self-explanatory. Noble Lion would harness significant power, he would overcome great barriers, and his creativity would eventually lead to stability throughout the land. The Philosopher¡¯s mumbling confirmed as much.

    Everyone in the Hall of Sixty-Four, including myself and River, chanted deafeningly as if we had all just won a great battle together. Toasts were raised to Noble Lion¡¯s health and the success of the Empire, and after that, every person in the room was suddenly clamoring to go next. When such vaulted heights could be attained through so simple a process, who wouldn¡¯t risk the converse? But I did my best to stick to the edges of the room, and after a few more readings failed to impress or mortify, exalt or degrade, I found myself losing interest, as did many of the lords and ladies who retreated to the edges of the room to drink and eat and socialize.

    After that, I had a chance to find Stallion at the edge of the room sitting with one of her retainers, one of the few people who were honorbound to stay by her side for at least the rest of the evening. Though there was no guarantee the bond between lord and bannerman would last much longer than that, based on the younger retainer¡¯s ugly gazes at the woman he was sworn to.

    ¡°It seems I¡¯m meant to be no more than a wife after all,¡± was all she said when I went over and tried to cast a more positive light on her reading. She seemed inconsolable. Yet, when Noble Lion managed to win free from his newfound admirers, and approached, there was a spark in her eye that I couldn¡¯t read.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°The man of the hour,¡± she said and slurped.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Noble Lion began, a little flushed with drink, but seeming to sober as he held her gaze. And held it. And held it.

    ¡°I think we will take our leave,¡± River said hurriedly, grabbing my arm. Noble Lion finally broke Stallion¡¯s stare and seemed to notice me for the first time. ¡°Oh no, my friend. Every lord and lord-to-be needs to have their reading done at least once in the Hall of Sixty-Four. It''s a rule!¡±

    He threw an arm around my shoulder and began herding me through the crowd.

    ¡°A rule? Surely not a palace rule or I would have read about it,¡± I laughed nervously. ¡°No one wants to hear any nonsense about me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I think we do,¡± said Lion, leading me out to the middle of the floor where some lady of minor rank stood confused by a reading of ¡°Converting the Maiden.¡± Lion raised his voice to the crowd that was now rising from their seats at his return to the floor. ¡°Right, lords and ladies?! Don¡¯t we want to hear what¡¯s in store for our favorite little Sparrow?!¡±

    ¡°Really, Lion, it''s always such a jumble. There¡¯s no need to get them so excited.¡±

    But what River had said earlier was true, and it was a double edged sword. The more I deflected, the more interested they got, and in moments I was standing alone, before the Philosopher¡¯s intense stare, the room having gone silent.

    The Philosopher was muttering something as he looked into my eyes, though I could barely hear him, or discern anything from what he said. His typical jumble was now an unbroken string of ominous croaking.

    ¡°...dualnaturesforkingpathsflameandashesgfloodanddarknessfatedestinydoomprophecy¡­¡±

    The coins clattered on the tiles. Again and again they fell and spun, bronze whirring as the Philosopher grabbed me by the arm and led me across the board with each addition to my fate, as if I were a prisoner of destiny and he my gaoler.

    ¡°Solidlinebrokenlinesolidline,¡± the Philosopher chanted. I couldn¡¯t remember which essence that outlined. Had I drank too much, or was it the combined attention of so many of my peers that had the blood rushing to my head? Was I getting dizzier or was the Philosopher getting so loud that his voice was now booming through every fiber of my being, rattling my mind? ¡°BROKENLINESOLIDLINE¡­¡±

    The Philosopher had one more cast to make and he gave me a long puzzling stare as he held the coins back for a moment. He looked¡­ frightened. He threw them down, as if he didn''t want to but couldn''t help himself.

    They clattered, bounced, spun¡­. And finally stopped.

    He looked up to me with eyes so wide that it seemed as if I had committed some ghastly crime before his very eyes. ¡°BROKEN LINE,¡± he finished, voice perfectly clear to my ears at least.

    ¡°What?¡± I stood rooted to the spot. I truly hadn¡¯t followed his insane mumbling, and the hexagram I now found myself standing on was one that didn¡¯t come up very often, nor had it stood out to me in my studies.

    ¡°Sixty-four,¡± the philosopher whispered, though his voice seemed to cut through me. ¡°The final hexagram. Destiny on the verge of completion.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a hexagram? Really?¡± I said. I didn¡¯t think I had ever heard of it, or at least never heard the sixty-fourth hexagram called by that name.

    ¡°You will be an able follower in times of peace, but a heroic villain in times of chaos.¡±

    There was no sound but the Philosopher¡¯s panting breath for a long time. The first voice to break the quiet was my own but I listened to myself speak as if it were someone else controlling my tongue.

    ¡°See? Nonsense,¡± I laughed. No one laughed with me. The room remained completely silent as I wrenched my arm free from the Philosopher and retreated from the floor. His eyes continued to follow me, accusing or perhaps disbelieving.

    If the poor youth who went after me had hoped for his moment in the spotlight, he would have been sorely disappointed, because as the Philosopher¡¯s eyes finally released me and locked onto him, no one else seemed quite ready to move on from my strange reading. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck crawl as, even after I returned to the shadows at the edge of the room and my place at my beautiful escort¡¯s side, eyes still repeatedly flicked toward me, or, worse yet, never left me.

    ¡°That was perfect,¡± whispered River.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± I hissed back.

    ¡°You did, and the coins fell perfectly. Flaming water. Let them puzzle that one out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still trying to puzzle that one out.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it''s all nonsense.¡± She said it a bit too casually, and I found myself looking down at my attire. My reading had indeed included water, which was the essence of the Black Star I had been born under. But I had never gotten a reading that included fire before. The purple on the hem of my robe suddenly seemed, in some odd way, to fit.

    ¡°Did you know?¡± I asked River, who had chosen to include the extra color.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. Pure chance.¡±

    ¡°Then I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d mind submitting to your own reading?¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Not a chance. But¡­ I think I know someone who might.¡±

    Windstopper was standing directly behind us, his distinctly heavy breathing less than a span from our ears.

    We both turned and gave him pointed looks at the same time.

    ¡°I Am Sorry. Am I Supposed To Be One Hundred Paces Away Now Or Just Two.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said as if just noticing him, ¡°How lucky you¡¯re here actually. We were just wondering if you would like a reading.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± the big man seemed to shrink. ¡°I Am Not A Lord. I Can Not.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? You might not get another chance to be in a room with a real Philosopher. In the very Hall of Sixty-Four, no less.¡±

    Still he seemed to equivocate. I dragged him by the shoulders as Noble Lion had done with me, though it took considerably more effort to move my mountain of a friend.

    ¡°Come on Windstopper. You don¡¯t even know what star you¡¯re born under. And no one ever gave you a proper courtesy name until recently. If you don¡¯t find out your destiny now, you might never know until it happens.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Kay. Oh Boy. I Have Never Gotten My Fortune Told Before. I Am So Excited.¡±

    I pushed the big man out onto the floor before anyone could object.

    Windstopper got ¡°the Sky Rooted,¡± as powerful a combination of elements as there could be, but the name of its hexagram¡­

    ¡°Twenty-five. Innocence.¡±

    Windstopper beamed. For him, it was perfect.

    The remainder of the night passed in a joyous blur. Windstopper ate and drank in copious amounts. I tried to keep up with him and quickly realized that I was far outmatched. Time after time I looked over toward River and found myself lost in her eyes, her face so gentle, so sweet on the surface, but dark and depthless when she turned her gaze upon me. Noble Lion, perhaps the greatest among us before tonight and now exalted even further beyond, chose me of all people to spend the rest of his night with, and we fell easily into a friendship that could have gone back decades. White Stallion, when she had finished her self-imposed exile, finally decided to join us once more, and she alone gave Windstopper a challenge in the game of cups and bowls.

    Windstopper¡¯s innocence was infectious, and though many lords kept distances between their bodyguards, their allies, their concubines, and themselves, I found that, for this night at least, we were as free as we had ever been. Looking back on it, it may have been the happiest night of my life.

    But it would not last. It wouldn¡¯t even last until dawn.

    <h6> </h6>

    ***NEW FATE!*** ***NEW ALLIANCES!***

    SPARROW

    RANK 7: Distinguished Knight

    WORTH: 350 dan

    CLAN: Silver Falcon | STAR: Black | FATE: Fire-Water "Verge of Destiny"

    MANDATE: None

    BONDS: Windstopper | ALLIANCES: Shadow River, Noble Lion, White Stallion

    DISTINCTION: Heir to the Imperial Protector of the Falcon Plains, keen with systems and puzzles, received an uncommon reading and a strange prophecy from the Philosopher.

    ***SILVER FALCON CLAN MISSION STATUS UPDATE: INTERBELLUM***

    Primary Objective: Prepare the Silver Falcon clan for general war among the clans.

    Secondary Objective: Ensure the Silver Falcon clan ends up on the right side of Imperial favor.

    SUCCEEDED x2 Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province North of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province West of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    Bonus Objective: Gain an ally in a province South of the Silver Falcon clan''s holdings.

    SUCCEEDED Secret Objective: Gain an ally in the Imperial household.

 Chapter 20: Sparrow and Noble Lion Dive into the Chaos at the Palace

    ¡°Ho! Stop There! Oh. It Is Just You.¡± That was Windstopper¡¯s voice. He had fallen asleep at the door but someone had roused him. He still sounded drunk and the room was still dark¡­

    And spinning, I realized as I sat up.

    ¡°Is he in there? I need to speak with him now.¡± Was that Noble Lion?

    I tried to rise from the bed, but found a weight upon my chest. The weight groaned.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± said River. I hadn¡¯t remembered going to bed. And I certainly didn¡¯t remember her coming with me. He we¡­ No. We were both still dressed in our evening attire.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok, Windstopper¡± I shouted toward the door, lighting a candle from the writing desk. ¡°I¡¯m up. Let him in.¡±

    I pulled the covers over the still-sleeping form of River and moved to the reception area of my quarters, where I heard the door creak and Noble Lion¡¯s face came into view by the light of his own taper. In the flickering shadows, it looked lined and tired, a glimpse into what he might look like when his youth and vigor had faded.

    ¡°Are you ok?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Me? I think so. Why? What¡¯s happened?¡±

    ¡°You need to come with me,¡± he turned toward the door and paused, ¡°Bring your sword.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Noble Lion strode the edges of the room as if looking for something. I only now realized that he was in his bedclothes, but carried his sword and scabbard in one hand as if he hadn¡¯t had time to tie on a sash.

    ¡°Lion, what are you talking about? What are you looking for?¡±

    ¡°Someone tried to kill me in my sleep. If it hadn¡¯t been for¡­ Well, the point is, they failed. And now there¡¯s more fighting throughout the palace.¡±

    ¡°What? That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± I shook my head, trying to clear it from the fog of wine and sleep. ¡°Things were stable¡­ Why now?¡±

    ¡°We need to go. There¡¯s still a chance we can stop them, but I can¡¯t do it on my own.¡±

    ¡°What? Stop who? No, look, if there¡¯s fighting within the palace I need to be here.¡±

    River was sitting up in bed now, inky black robes from last night still blending into the darkness around her. ¡°If something¡¯s happening I need to get back,¡± she said. ¡°The concubines will be counted.¡±

    River seemed to have grasped the situation much quicker than I had. I looked from her to Noble Lion and back. There was no arguing with either of them, but¡­

    ¡°Windstopper! I need you!¡±

    Pounding footsteps, heavy breathing. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I need you to escort River back to her quarters. Make sure she gets there safely no matter what. And stay with her if it doesn¡¯t seem safe.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ I Am Your Body Guard.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m telling you that if she gets hurt there will be nothing left of me worth guarding.¡±

    The big man appeared as confused as ever. It seemed sleep and wine were slowing us all down.

    ¡°Sparrow, really. I¡¯ll be fine on my own. He should be with you.¡±

    ¡°Go with River. That¡¯s an order, Dian Wei.¡±

    Windstopper¡¯s eyes flared. He nodded.

    ¡°We¡¯re running out of time,¡± said Lion.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± I said as River took off with Windstopper in tow.

    ¡°No you¡¯re not,¡± said Lion, handing me my sword.

    I held it in one hand just as he did, as the two of us sped down the hallway. I had to trust that Lion knew where he was going, because I certainly didn¡¯t. Even if I had been sober and well-rested, I still wouldn¡¯t have been able to make sense of the maze that was the palace, even after all these weeks.

    ¡°Do we have any idea what the fighting is?¡± I panted. Sporadic sounds of fighting and other more terrifying noises wafted down the dark corridors.

    ¡°No. But it''s coming from the Couch of Five Dragons.¡±

    I shook myself, trying to remember my court lore. Everything was named dragon-this or heaven¡¯s-that. ¡°The Emperor¡¯s bedchamber?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Just say that!¡±

    We skidded to a halt before a large set of double doors bound in gold and iron. Five golden dragons adorned it, each with a different set of gemstones for eyes, as if the powers of the five planets protected the threshold.

    Clearly their powers of protection did not extend to Imperial Grand Marshals, because Oxblood, head of the Tan Ox clan and brother to the Ox Empress, lay in a pool of blood in the hallway. Or at least his head did. A trail of inky black viscera led to the doors as if the grisly trophy had been needed for something up to this point, but had eventually been discarded.

    ¡°Sealed tight,¡± I said, putting my weight against the doors.

    ¡°Stand back,¡± said Noble Lion, and I could immediately sense his yellow aura flowing around him, into the earth beneath us. I backpedaled until the ground shook so violently that it was all I could to keep my feet. The floorboards beneath us bowed and cracked, then shattered entirely as blocks of stone rolled up from beneath Noble Lion, cascading forward into the dragon door, and culminating in a great spar of earth that forced its way between the two doors, driving them apart like a wedge through firewood.

    The essence of Earth usually didn¡¯t fare so well against the essence of Wood, but in this case, Noble Lion was more than capable of overpowering an inanimate object. The man could build a fortress anywhere, and I mean anywhere, even right up through the middle of an Imperial hallway, so long as there was an earthen foundation somewhere below.

    Metal screeched. Wood groaned. Finally the gilt hinges gave way and the doors crashed to either side, splintered, leaving just enough space for us to force our way between wood and rock. Noble Lion led the way, swordpoint first and I followed just behind.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I had to admit, the moniker Couch of Five Dragons made complete sense now, but why a child needed to sleep on a bed of silks the size of a river barge, I did not know. The most important thing, though, was that the Emperor himself was nowhere to be found.

    There was a clinking sound coming from one end of the room, but all the lamps within the Emperor¡¯s bedchamber had been snuffed.

    ¡°Your majesty?¡± Noble Lion hazarded.

    The clinking stopped. Something moved in the darkness, not small enough to be the Emperor, not slender enough to be the Empress.

    There was a barely audible hiss. ¡°We need to flee.¡±

    ¡°We need to find it,¡± snapped the response.

    I pinpointed the sound and dashed for it. The moment I did, I realized the folly of attacking before knowing my target. The shape that tried to bolt for the door was too large, too wide to be a single being, yet still, as I closed on it, it seemed to unfold further like a sail. And when I crashed into the creature, bringing it to the ground, it writhed in my arms, and I could not discern limb from torso in order to pin it.

    I saw the flash of a knife, and on instinct I grabbed for the wrist that I knew must be there.

    I caught it mid-thrust.

    My own scabbard slid off and the creature was not so lucky. As I raised by sword high, I finally saw the glint of a pair of inhuman eyes, and brought my blade down upon them.

    I felt the familiar bite of metal through bone, and came up covered, not in blood, but in black ichor as the creature writhed on the ground without its head. Finally, Noble Lion was by my side fumbling with a lantern, as I stumbled backward.

    In the flickering light I could see the robes of an Imperial attendant but even as I watched, the stump of a scaly neck retreated within the disorganized folds, and a second head emerged.

    ¡°Please¡­¡± clicked the second head.

    Noble Lion reached forward and tore the black-stained silk so that the creature was lying naked before us. It tried to half-slither, half crawl away, but Lion punched his sword down through a serpent¡¯s tail, pinning it to the floorboards. The head screamed. It was human above the neck, but aside from that I scarcely knew what I was looking at.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, grimacing at the confusion of ichor and scales.

    ¡°One of the Ten Imperial Attendants,¡± said Noble Lion, then no doubt noticing how the serpent¡¯s body forked like the juncture of a tree branch, he directed the lantern toward the head I had split. ¡°Or Two of them. But neither are the Chief Attendant.¡±

    He twisted his blade in the serpent¡¯s tail and the man¡¯s head whimpered and pleaded.

    ¡°Where is the Emperor?¡± Noble Lion growled.

    ¡°Long gone. Please¡­¡± It sniveled. Had it not just been complicit in the abduction of a child, I might have felt bad for it; it was not so terrifying naked and injured in the light. What¡¯s more, I recognized the man¡¯s face from the night Imperial Marshal Oxblood had spared them. Though upon reflection, all I had seen that night was a human head in a mass of silk.

    In this sick twist of events, this creature and its cronies had repaid the Imperial Marshal¡¯s mercy with more bloodshed. So when Noble Lion repeated his question and twisted the blade, I did not stop him. There was no room for softness with the Emperor missing.

    ¡°You¡¯re down to your last head, creature,¡± I added, when the creature only simpered and begged. ¡°Tell us. Where did you take him?¡±

    ¡°Across the river by now. We know nothing¡­¡±

    ¡°Why are you still here, then? You must have known there would be a search.¡±

    ¡°Our task was the seal. But it is missing. Missing¡­ we could not face the others without it. Where, oh, where-¡±

    Noble Lion¡¯s blade flicked out and took off the creature¡¯s second head. The forked serpent¡¯s body writhed and trembled, then coiled in on itself and went still.

    I stared at it for a moment longer, before wiping my own blade and searching for where I had flung my sheathe in the heat of battle. When I returned to Noble Lion, I half-expected to find that it had all been a drunken nightmare and that I would find two human bodies lying in a jumble where we had slain them. But the scaly corpse was as confusing as ever in its pool of dark fluids.

    ¡°A shapeshifting Mandate?¡± I asked as Lion still looked on, stunned.

    ¡°Mandate, alchemy, a curse from Heaven,¡± he shook himself. ¡°Who can say? But the Emperor is still missing. We must find him. Failing that, his brother. There are no solid claims beyond the two boys, and if they have both been killed¡­¡±

    ¡°...the land descends into chaos,¡± I finished for him.

    ¡°Come,¡± he said. ¡°We cannot fail.¡±

    As we ran from the palace, other lords fell in with us, and we shared what little information we had.

    ¡°The Emperor is missing. The Marshal is dead. The Ten have made their move.¡±

    Stallion had marshaled her own party of lords, and she had found out that the heir, the younger prince, was missing as well. The assassination attempts on the key lords and ladies had all, almost without exception, failed, but they had served their purpose in delaying our martial response, or convincing many of those capable of defending the Emperor to hole up in their quarters and defend themselves instead, as I had first thought to, as well.

    ¡°Uncle! What news?¡±

    He and Snow Fox joined us at the stables as we all hastily saddled our own horses.

    ¡°Nothing good,¡± said Uncle, eyes wild and sunken as if he had just lived through his own nightmare. ¡°It''s chaos.¡±

    Snow Fox had more of his wits about him.

    ¡°The Grand Marshal was summoned to stand before the Imperial throne late last night,¡± the old man said as I helped him lift his saddle. ¡°We urged him not to go but¡­¡±

    ¡°...it''s an Imperial summons,¡± said Noble Lion, mounting up.

    ¡°It was said that the Ten were willing to apologize to the Marshal,¡± Snow Fox said as I helped the older statesman mount. ¡°But they would not leave the Ox Empress¡¯s side until he had given his word, in person, unarmed and unaccompanied, not to harm them. He entered the throne room alone, against our council.¡±

    ¡°An obvious trap,¡± Uncle growled. ¡°Yet still he went. Ten against one, they must have butchered him with daggers. We¡¯ve been fighting through the halls ever since.¡±

    As I mounted, Uncle reached across the distance between our horses and grabbed a fistful of my robes. ¡°Did you see them Sparrow? Did you see them?! I didn¡¯t think such creatures existed.¡±

    I removed his hand and picked up Windshear¡¯s reins. ¡°Come. They¡¯ve taken the boys across the river.¡±

    As we rode out to the Blue River, that edged the City of Lanterns, we took a barge across with all available lords, and exchanged more information. There had been those who had first thought to check on the throne, on the heir, on the Ox Empress, or, in our case, on the Emperor¡¯s own bedchamber. Accounts of half-serpent Imperial Attendants were tallied, and it was determined that eight of them had not escaped the palace, a ninth had been caught and butchered in the streets of the capital, but the tenth and final one, the Chief of the Ten in fact, must still be at large with both the Emperor and the prince.

    White Stallion herself had found the Ox Empress beside herself with grief and shame, and in the woman¡¯s state of distress she had spilled everything. In her paranoia, or perhaps her love for her son, the Empress had begun to fear her own brother¡¯s power, and had agreed to assist in the Imperial Attendants¡¯ plot against him, but she had not anticipated the Chief of them abducting her son. In that, the Ten had betrayed her as well.

    The sun rose as we neared the far bank, and though every lord was keen to find the Emperor ¨C or at least an Emperor ¨C safe and sound, there was nothing but river and field and small copses of trees as far as the eye could see.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be vying for the honor of being the one to find him,¡± I whispered to Noble Lion as the ferrymen readied the planks and the lords began to mount up.

    Lion thought about that for a second, and then, leaping into his saddle, he kicked his horse to block the others from the gangway.

    ¡°Let me remind you,¡± said Noble Lion, lifting his voice for all to hear, ¡°That if we allow both the Emperor and his heir to be taken or slain from under our very noses, there will be a strict accounting. History will remember each and every one of us as the lords who lost their Emperor while they slept.¡±

    Sufficiently cowed by this, the warlords agreed to work together under the direction of the most senior Imperial Protector, Snow Fox.

    A peasant, having risen early to fish the river, heard the pronouncement and lent his aid. Based on his outline of the countryside, Snow Fox proceeded to deploy every available rider fairly, evenly, and methodically across the surrounding fields, like the grid-work floor in the Hall of Sixty-Four.

    Even the task of finding a lost Emperor ¨C of finding two abducted children ¨C had become a contest for the assembled warlords. And I am ashamed to say that I, too, harbored some hopes of being the one to earn an Emperor¡¯s gratitude. Some harbored more insidious designs.