Five Kingdoms (27 page)

And so, with confidence but no pleasure, Song Da-Xiao made her decision and delivered it for all present to hear and acknowledge...and accept. “You may keep your title and all the responsibilities and privileges attached. However, for a rare lack of foresight that has jeopardized the safety of this city and, consequentially, the safety of the Empire, I hereby command that you depart for Fa Leng at once to make amends for your absence. As you know, we cannot lose Fa Leng. General Wen Xiu has proved incapable of fulfilling the task you have given him and you will therefore assume his role at Fa Leng as Supreme Commander of the forces there. I will grant you full authority to implement whatever military tactics are necessary to stop Xun’s advance. You have never failed me, Xu Liang. I will not allow you to begin now.”

Xu Liang’s brow creased slightly. He was not happy with this, but he would not question it. Song Da-Xiao did not expect him to say what he said next. “I shall strive to regain your trust.”

His frosted tone cut her. Xu Liang had never taken a tone with her, not even to chide her if he didn’t think she was paying close enough attention to his tutelage. But then, she had never doubted him and while she didn’t doubt him now, her words must have implied that she did. She had hurt him and, fairly, he had hurt her in return. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t dare. She wanted to escape, but she had nowhere to go.

With the formalities done, Xu Liang straightened and proceeded to go about business as usual, explaining to her and the other officers present where he had gone and why. Of those present, only Song Da-Xiao and the Minister of Ceremony, Huang Shang-san, had been previously made privy to the full details of what he hoped to accomplish by leaving Sheng Fan. Xu Liang still omitted the intricacies of his journey for now, but reported that he had found the other Celestial Swords and he had returned to Sheng Fan with them. He reported also that there were unexpected conditions involved with acquiring the Heavenly Blades. Each, as it turned out, had a rightful bearer, an individual divinely chosen to wield the weapon as no one else could, and that all of these bearers were not Fanese.

“Barbarian warriors?” the Supreme General questioned, scarcely waiting for Xu Liang to finish. “You have brought barbarian warriors into Sheng Fan—into the Imperial City—at such a critical hour as this?”

And then, with a strange mordancy edging his voice, as if he suddenly felt surrounded by traitors on all sides, Xu Liang said, “Yes, I did.”

There was weariness in his expression, an impatience Song Da-Xiao had never before witnessed in him, not in this way.

“It is because of the critical situation we are in that I have taken this liberty,” Xu Liang continued. “The Swords are a symbol of unity. Their powers are unique...”

“And terrible,” Han Quan put in. “Forgive my interruption, Lord Xu Liang, but you do not seem to understand the weight of what you have done. How can we allow such base and ignorant creatures to roam free in our blessed land—free to corrupt and to destroy, as is their nature?”

“He’s right,” Yuo Shang said. “They will not resolve anything. They can only ruin it and ruin what chances we have of restoring order to the land.”

“There is no chance,” Xu Liang countered. “We have already ruined the peace of the land by enacting the Five Kingdoms Resolution. There will be discord for long years to come, but, as history has shown us, such discord can be contained and dealt with. It is the rising fear of the people and the fear within ourselves that cannot be contained, or dealt with so easily.”

“Yes, fear.” At last, Huang Shang-san elected to speak. “The fear of what all of us has felt trembling beneath our feet. There is an ancient power stirring beneath this city. It will rise and destroy us all if we do not act to understand it and to strike against it before it grows too strong.”

Xu Liang looked at the Minister of Ceremonies and for a moment the two seemed to speak secretly to one another, it was a language not between conspirators, but between friends. Afterward, Xu Liang faced Song Da-Xiao once again. “Your Imperial Highness, I ask that you allow me to at least present the Swords and their bearers to you. I know that you, as bearer of the
Spear of Heaven
, will feel the power I speak of and understand what must be done.”

Song Da-Xiao knew that all eyes were on her, silently giving their own advice, but her own gaze was on Xu Liang. She saw no one else and thought only of how she did not want him to go to Fa Leng, even though she knew that he was the only person who could turn the losing battle around. He would think of something, just as he always did. Still, if there was a legitimate reason to keep him near for a little longer...

“Very well,” she finally said to her dearest servant. “I will give you one week to prepare for this presentation. I have no doubt that there is much about the Celestial Swords that you have learned and could still learn. I regret that I cannot offer you the time you would like to have, but I will give you this small amount of it gladly. Please, feel free to do what you must concerning the Blades and their bearers for now. At the dawn of the eighth day from this one, I ask that you set your sights and your mind on Fa Leng.”

Xu Liang bowed. “I shall do as Your Imperial Highness commands.”

The Empress had
done what she believed was right. Xu Liang could not question that. And yet, he could not ignore the misgivings in his heart while he traveled by sedan chair with Song Da-Xiao, to the Garden of Remembrance. He had felt this way once before, when he and Prince Song Lu had been separated by a similar decision: two battles, only one of which he could directly affect the outcome of. By sad coincidence the Empress had asked Xu Liang to accompany her to her brother’s tomb within the garden before he became involved in his studies and preparations concerning the Celestial Swords. It was at the garden that the Empress became a girl in his eyes again. At the Temple of Longevity and Remembrance, in the final resting place of the previous heir to the throne of Sheng Fan, he looked upon his current ruler and saw the young sister of his dearest friend.

He realized, since leaving the heavy atmosphere of the throne room and its audience that his words in response to what was a command had been issued with what he considered too much familiarity. It had been familiarity between himself and Song Lu which had allowed for intonation that was as near to argument as an officer of the court dared. It was an allowance, granted to Xu Liang by Song Lu, because the prince insisted on their friendship…that their political roles not be allowed to eclipse it altogether. Xu Liang had determined to put his position as Imperial Tutor and Supreme Tactician ahead of his role as oath brother to the Empress. He could see that he had allowed that to slip when faced with what appeared distance, and disenchantment. It was apparent by now that his love for the Song family could not be suppressed.

“Please, speak your thoughts to me, my brother,” Song Da-Xiao said in her voice that rivaled the sweet songs of the birds who currently filled the trees grown in a perfect circle around the burial shrine of her sibling. It was not a command.

“I feared throughout the last days of my journey for your well-being,” Xu Liang said. “I’m glad to see you are not ill, but I have been told that the nightmares return.”

At the base of the stairs leading up to the shrine that preceded Song Lu’s tomb, Xu Liang offered the Empress his hand. She took it delicately and proceeded to take careful steps, the extensive train of her robes blanketing the pavement behind her, leading like a golden river toward the rimmed path that would return them to the courtyard and the awaiting sedan that had borne them, by the efforts of eight of her personal guards. Also lingering near were some of the handmaidens and lower ranking officers who had accompanied, as was required of their essential roles within the court.

“Do not be concerned,” Song Lu’s sister said quietly, revealing no fear, as her brother would not have. “They are images I have seen before. They only further justify your deeds concerning the Celestial Swords, and that pleases me.”

“Were you concerned that I have been wrong?” Xu Liang asked, recalling what Xiang Wu had said about others speaking against him to the Empress.

Song Da-Xiao smiled without looking at him. The expression was not warm, but somehow haunted. She said, “I have not lost faith in you, my brother. After our spirits ceased to be connected, I feared that the Heavens had taken you from me. I worried that you might have offended the gods by seeking the artifacts they meant to deliver to us at their own pace.”

“Yes, that has crossed my mind as well,” Xu Liang admitted as they entered the shrine, stepping out of the sunlight and into shadow. “However, in my experiences abroad, I have come to believe that the bearers of the Blades were also intended to be delivered to us, if we would but take the risk in discovering them.”

“It was a terrible risk,” Song Da-Xiao said softly. And then, “You are my strength, Xu Liang.”

Xu Liang stopped walking and waited for the Empress to do the same. She did and turned to face him sadly, as if expecting him to give the contradiction that edged on his lips. Though she may have known his response already, he spoke the words anyway. She could not rely on him like this. He would not outlive her or her rule. “Your strength comes from no men, save your ancestors. Believe that, my empress. For as you doubt, the land and the people doubt with you.”

“I have never doubted you, Xu Liang,” Song Da-Xiao told him and they continued walking.

As they neared the tomb of her birth brother, the Empress took sticks of incense from the kettle of sand they had been nested in and lit them on nearby candles. She held them between her hands in prayer before placing them back in their urn.

Xu Liang silently performed the same ritual.

“Sending you to Fa Leng is not truly meant to be taken as a reprimand or a punishment,” Song Da-Xiao continued. “Han Quan suggested to me that your personal involvement in the battle is the only way to guarantee success at this point, and I agree with him.”

“Chancellor Han Quan,” Xu Liang echoed thoughtfully. “He did not seem so confident of my abilities in a dream I once had.”

“He admires you a great deal,” the Empress informed, stopping in front of her brother’s tomb, where a multitude of candles and incense burned in a constant vigil. “He praises your young understanding of the ancient arts frequently. There are few your age who are considered to be among the Seven Mystics.”

“I am not among them formally,” Xu Liang reminded, veering away from the subject, returning to that of his dreams. “There was someone else in my nightmares after I broke away from our connection, someone who also opposed me and not only in dream, but in life as well. He was a warrior of tremendous skill, given the aid of a mystic. He was determined to stop my search for the Swords.”

With a trace of worry in her quiet tone, the Empress asked, “Where is he now?”

Xu Liang considered the disservice that had been paid to a warrior of such strength in leaving him exposed on the field of battle, even with his weapon beside him, and even though he had been proven an enemy of the Song. In a belated consolatory measure, Xu Liang referred to him by name, so that his strength might be attributed to his family. “Xiadao Lu perished in the outer realms, slain by one born of that region, who has come to Sheng Fan.”

“I know there is virtue among those you have brought with you from the outer realms,” Song Da-Xiao said to him. “Else they would not have your trust.”

Nothing more was said on the matter of rogues or of barbarians. They said their prayers for Song Lu, then departed, Xu Liang turning back for just a moment to look at an amulet resting among other objects that had been placed at the face of the tomb. The necklace was strung with pale beads and a single flat, black object that glistened with traces of violet and green, backed with gold. The iridescent disc was supposedly a piece of a tortoise’s shell, capable of granting protection to any who wore it. Song Lu had given it to Xu Liang so many years ago. He wondered if his prince had been wearing it that day he confronted his assassins, if he would be alive now.

Perhaps
, Xu Liang thought to himself,
we cannot change fate
.