Four Barbarian Generals: Dryth Chronicles Epic Fantasy (Celestial Empire Book 3) Page 7

  He might have assumed that the gods meant that as a form of reassurance, but in his current frame of mind, he could only believe that those same deities were mocking him. Leaving his combative and confusing thoughts at that, he guided Breigh a few paces further along the floor of the underground and swung into her saddle. “I’ll look ahead,” he informed the others, and set off toward the caves beyond without waiting for a response.

  HAD TRISTUS A horse, he’d have obeyed his impulse to follow Alere, but as he hadn’t, he supposed that he wouldn’t. Sylvashen would not have been equipped to negotiate the uneven surface of the underground, so it had not even been a remote temptation to bring the animal along. Still, there were times when he would have preferred to keep up with Alere, rather than allow the elf to constantly isolate himself amid potential dangers. Regardless, he had to admit that scouting was among Alere’s strengths.

  “It has taken many weeks to clear the debris,” Huang Shang-san said just then, perhaps to be conversational.

  It took Tristus a few moments to fully decipher the elder’s words within his accent, which was stronger than Xu Liang’s. Huang Shang-san was also reaching for the Yvarian. It made Tristus feel responsible for not knowing Aeran, but at the same time he in no way could have anticipated that he would have ever gone to Aer or had any reason to know the language. Truth be told, he honestly had very little knowledge of anything beyond the eastern coasts of the Yvarias and Callipry. He felt somewhat ahead of things just for knowing that Aer existed at all and that there was some relationship to western languages. He had the Church to credit for his education, but it staggered him to think of the many throughout Andaria and Treska who would have had no idea at all about any part of the eastern world.

  As to Huang Shang-san’s comment… “I imagine it will take many more to even begin reconstruction of the temple.”

  Huang Shang-san nodded. He smiled in a thoughtful way, and after a few moments, he nodded again. This time it was with understanding, which was marked by the fact that he also said, “Yes.”

  Tristus felt good about that. There was some delay between delivery and comprehension, but they were not beyond the ability to communicate with one another. The moment warmed Tristus to the elder even more. He’d found over the past weeks that he liked the scholar very much. He had a kind and patient disposition, and was evidently a good friend of Xu Liang. Good enough to accept Xu Liang’s friends from beyond their borders without any apparent hesitation or prejudgment.

  “Do you think that we’ll be able to locate Han Quan?” Tristus asked next.

  Huang Shang-san folded his hands behind his back while they walked, considering the question.

  They were in no particular hurry—it would likely be an expedition of sorts learning just where the tunnels led to. Tristus had some natural concerns about the older man—though he was far from ancient—but those concerns were not allowed to linger with the knowledge of Gai Ping’s capability at hand. Granted, Gai Ping had been trained and tried through service to Xu Liang, but Tristus had also been made aware of the fact that Huang Shang-san had been an explorer in his day. Undoubtedly, the wanderlust had been retained. The very notion reminded Tristus that Tarfan himself was no youngster and he also had managed a great amount of trekking as easily as any of the younger of their company.

  Tristus supposed that he was overly accustomed to the priest and master classes of the Order, who put far more value upon being sat upon a chair reading for long hours than any amount of walking. Those who received the title of cleric were considered the ‘walking priests’ of the Order. It was among their expected duties to travel both individually and with troops. The physical expectations of the knights went without stating. In either vocation, Tristus was assured to be on his feet often, else riding a great distance. Clerics who became priests, and knights who became Order Masters could look ahead to a more sedentary life. Tristus believed it was a tradeoff for the amount of political weight they would be taking on.

  “It is hard to believe that Han Quan would keep himself in conditions such as this,” Huang Shang-san finally said. “He is a man of great ambitions, not of hiding.”

  “I understand,” Tristus replied. And then, “Where do you think he’s gone to?”

  While he waited for an answer, Tristus’ gaze wandered ahead of them, toward the erratically lit shadows of the caves. Among the lights, he convinced himself that some of the deeper colored were the fault of Alere’s sword while the elf prodded the darkness ahead of them. He resigned himself not to worry overmuch unless that light became distinctly brighter, or went out altogether.

  “I think that he would have gone south,” Huang Shang-san said to him.

  And Tristus nodded. “That makes sense.” After a moment, he smiled back at the elder. “It sounds like there’s been enough trouble.”

  “Aye,” Tarfan chimed in. “And I imagine, then, that it’ll be Xu Liang who finds the assassin first.”

  “He may,” Tristus answered. He was immediately worried by the reminder that Han Quan was not only willing to murder his opposition, but that he had the ability to do so by means of magic. The nature of that magic had surprised Tristus greatly, even given his exposure to Xu Liang’s capabilities with the wind. He had been thrown from his feet by a mere pebble, one that had then set about expanding toward his heart. Thankfully, it had only embedded superficially and wasn’t given time to grow in excess. He had Alere to thank for that last part. Recalling the incident, which was marked now only by scar and by memory, he was grateful that Xu Liang had not gone to Fa Leng alone.

  THE ESSENCE OF the Twilight Blade hovered in the near distance, like fireflies looming over a meadow during a summer evening. It reminded Guang Ci of travel with Lord Xu Liang, which in turn reminded him that he was not traveling with his master to Fa Leng. Though his assignment with the Night Blade had detached him from that service, he could not help that he felt remiss. He had not served the Imperial Tactician for a long time, yet he had fortified himself with dreams of success and honor within that role. The transition from foot soldier to bodyguard had been simpler for him. He would not shake well from the loyalty and determination he had developed toward Lord Xu Liang.

  At one time, it had not been difficult to develop feelings of comradery and brotherhood with his fellow bearers. He felt the shadow of resent descending over his perspective now. Shame accompanied, because he knew that Lord Xu Liang would disapprove and also that it was not a right frame of mind. Lord Xu Liang had explained his role to him—explained his responsibilities as bearer of the Night Blade. He understood them. He accepted them.

  A needle of doubt poked at the edges of his mind even as he attempted to fortify those thoughts. The prickling of his senses transmogrified into the voice of the Dawn Blade’s bearer while he walked just ahead of both him and Lord Huang Shang-san. Guang Ci recalled the telling of the legend of the ancestral bearers of both of their weapons, and he suspected that it was Behel which was imposing the story of Zan Dexiu and Zan Jang onto his current frame of mind. He reminded himself that he had no grievance with Tristus. They had fought for Lord Xu Liang and for the Empire together, as brothers. But they were not the brothers of legend, and if those spirits were in any way alive within the Blades, he would not succumb to the grim disposition of Zan Dexiu.

  The Night Blade’s vaporous gloom drifted into the periphery of Guang Ci’s view while it seemed to be coiling off its dark hilt. The edges of the floating darkness were tinted a lit plum, as if each shapeless cloud were pulling in the uncertain light of the caves. Each tendril seemed a tear in the very air, peering in at the Infernal Regions.

  Guang Ci shook his hand off the hilt of the Night Blade, dismissing its strange energy. The action did not disperse the tendrils far from either him or the sword, but he chose not to further dignify the near-willful presence of them. He would adhere to the teachings of Lord Xu Liang where dark forces were concerned. He would not give them undue attention. He would ponder them, but he w
ould not answer to them.

  THE CAVES WERE deep, and there seemed many alcoves that could have become outlets. Most of them were not of a size that any dragon could fit through, however, and it seemed unlikely that a man the age and former status of Han Quan would seek to squeeze himself through a space too narrow or treacherous. Alere understood the vast potential reaches of caves. Though he was familiar with the interiors of mountains, rather than a tunneling underground network, he felt his instincts were applicable. Many of the options would go nowhere a person could realistically get to without significant equipment and effort.

  It was with that thought that Alere was forced to recall that the fled assassin was also a sorcerer whose craft involved the movement and manipulation of stone. Still, one could form a hole in a wall that stood between two distinct open spaces, but Alere did not believe that anything beyond dragon or god could bore through the earth itself within moments. Xu Liang’s talent with the wind required of him significant strength of mind and spirit, and the result often weakened his body. Han Quan did not escape by means of tunneling with magic. Alere was certain.

  As to the presence of another dragon…the stench of one’s previous residing in the vicinity was yet clear. It may have been stronger since the movement of the nymphs through the space. Undoubtedly some had hatched belatedly and those that were hatched already had surely stirred the bodily clutter such animals created and with it, the odor.

  It was foul.

  The deeper Alere went, the more present it became. If the smell did not dissipate soon, he would assume the underground had been home to an infestation. In that case, he would advise that they do not explore further without soldiers to back them. Clearing out multiple young dragons and the potential of even one more adult would be a dangerous undertaking. It had taken six swords of power and the assistance of soldiers to contend with such a scenario above ground. There had been casualties beyond Jiao Ren, though it would be the general’s death which gained fame. The rest of them would also gain fame, as heroes, though there had been several others present to defend the city from the dragon.

  Fame seemed a significant aspect of Sheng Fan’s culture. In that way it was much the same as any other human nation. Men tended to revere heroes in the same way that elves revered gods. Even in regard to the latter fact, Alere was somewhat indifferent. Reverence for the Verressi had devolved primarily to awareness of the presence of the gods and wariness over the manner in which they were prone to take action when provoked. Alere found the apparent presence of two gods among his fellow bearers to be volatile more than he found it inspiring or intriguing.

  Dragons were another matter altogether.

  Breigh moved easily over the uneven surface beneath her. She seemed bothered by the stench, but not overly so. Alere encouraged her with a gentle hand at her neck and otherwise paid attention to the depth surrounding them. The sounds moving through the space were primarily of air drifting through open channels. Occasionally he heard the sound of water slapping rock as it bled through the ground above. The Imperial City was home to many small ponds, some streams—one of which was quite large and ran directly to the temple ruins from a natural spring—and a sizeable moat. Some heavy rain showers occurring over the previous days ensured that the ground was well saturated and so it came as no surprise that there would be the presence of water within the caves. There were also curious sounds beneath the dripping and the current of air. In some ways it reminded Alere of the crackling of isolated fires loitering in the brush after a lightning strike or a lengthy battle. Such fires never traveled far over the damp, cold terrain of the lower lying areas of Yvaria.

  Memories of life under Doriel’s roof and banner began to surface, but were quickly submerged by a shuffling that sounded nearby and the manner in which Breigh sidled away from the source.

  Alere calmed her with soft words and a firmer hand on the reins. He brought her to a halt and angled her toward what seemed to disturb her. “What is it?” he asked the mare in elvish she knew no better than any other language, but which soothed her because it was in his voice and familiar. He suspected a lack of contact since arriving at the Imperial City had contributed to some nervousness.

  Stroking his fingers through Breigh’s white mane, he looked into the tunnel ahead. It was quite tall, but also narrow—too narrow for an adult elf or man to pass through, let alone a dragon. The severity of the crack in the earth and its tremendous length reminded him of the Aeran terrain, as if he were viewing one of the fissures from the side. If a body were to fall from an opening above—if it reached to the surface—they would surely die either through injury or for being trapped between the walls.

  The shuffling occurred again. Alere glanced down at Aerkiren, but noticed that the sword did not seem particularly agitated. When he looked to the fissure once more, he noted a small form shake itself loose and take flight. It was a bat, and it inspired the sudden awakening of hundreds of its kin.

  Breigh shifted uncomfortably, but Alere held her still while a flurry of winged rodents funneled out of the crack and up toward the great heights of the cave’s ceiling. For the most part their forms were lost to the darkness overhead, but periodically wing or body would flash before a ray of light from an unknown source. It was in such a moment when Alere noticed a larger form snatch one of the bats from the air, disrupting the exodus only enough that some sections of the horde drifted lower, rendering their high-pitched rally louder as they made their way. The predator was too high and too swift to properly view, but Alere suspected that inspection was not necessary. There must have been more of the young dragons still in the caves.

  With his gaze lingering on the dispersal of bats, Alere guided Breigh back toward the others.

  The Road to Fa Leng

  THE JOURNEY SOUTH of the Imperial City would be an arduous one. Though the length was minor, compared to the amount of traveling Xu Liang had done already in the last year, it involved harder mountains than what salted the near horizons of Ji’s heart. The troops would venture into those tall, soft mountains through narrow river valleys and into a great expanse of close, vertical cliffs. They were called the Chi Hao—the fingers of the earth, petrified in their reach for the sky. The road was of planks and bridges, crossing not only bodies of water, but between the close mountains at times. The movement of the ranks would have to occur in stages in order to not overtax the narrower roads while some of the troops broke off to the east to travel around Chi Hao, across the coastal Kang Pi Plains. The smaller prefecture neighboring the Kang Su Province had a road running through it, however that road curved around Mount Ding Zhu on the wider side of it, and was also somewhat narrow in areas. It could take equally as long as passing through Chi Hao, if not longer. Dividing the troops to either side of Ding Zhu would enable two groups to navigate the mountains in relatively the same amount of time, rather than waiting for one larger group to filter through in stages. Pushing all of the troops by one route would take several days. Undoubtedly, even by alleviating the number of men traveling by any one route, more than one of their days’ travel would be dedicated to the movement.

  Still, there was some advantage to the inconvenience. Along their route lay the School of the Seven Mystics. While the front troops waited for the rear to join them in the hills of the Kang Su Province, Xu Liang intended to visit the school. In light of all that had happened, before and after Han Quan’s betrayal came to be exposed, Xu Liang felt it necessary to consult the masters of the mystic arts. It was, after all, one of their order who had turned against the Empress and staged the assassination of more than one of her officers. Xu Liang included Jiao Ren among those targeted by Han Quan’s scheme, the true depth of which was yet to be uncovered.

  Immediately following events in the west court, Xu Liang had personally overseen the investigation of Han Quan’s house. No evidence of any plot had been uncovered. To some, it scarcely seemed to matter, since the dragon had already emerged. While that point was valid, there were also equall
y valid points, such as the dragon spawn—some of which had inevitably found freedom during the melee. If the dragon had spawned, it had a mate or it did not require one. In either event there had been eggs that were potentially accessible to Han Quan. He had plotted to steal the Celestial Blades—Xu Liang remained assured of that—and his plot seemed to coincide with the hateful tone of the Scholar General. It seemed fateful that Xu Liang had been guided to the Cai Shi-meng scrolls during his quest for the very artifacts the past servant of Ganzan Li had initially intended to use against the Song. The Scholar General had recorded possession of at least one Blade, the very Blade Han Quan had attempted to seize from the Empress by advising her to place it within his reach; at the Temple of Divine Tranquility, where he had laid more than one trap and used spells to deter entry as well as to confuse.

  There had been a dragon beneath the city, yes, and its movements had been responsible for the number of tremors felt throughout the inner city, but he had set his enchantment to make it seem as if the dragon were nesting immediately beneath the temple and on the verge of rising in direct response to intrusion. In reality, the dragon had moved liberally throughout the area beneath the city and was little aware of what went on within the temple itself. It had emerged after Han Quan’s spells were removed and after the former chancellor revealed himself a traitor, which was in direct response to Xu Liang’s discovery and counteracting of his plot. He had hoped to collect all of the bearers within the temple and to lure the dragon out, which might have been the most sensational assassination of officers to have taken place in the history of the Empire. Xu Liang believed that afterward, he intended to collect the Blades and to somehow use them or possession of them to conscript men who would serve him out of fear. If his plot had succeeded, and if the courageous among the fearing and beleaguered had not risen to defeat him, he could well have overthrown the Song and begun his own dynasty.