The Heir (Fall of the Swords Book 3) (8 page)

Retrieving maps and charts from a study, he set them in a corner of the central room. “Rippling Water,” he asked, “would you serve the coffee and snacks?”

I'm a Matriarch, not a serving wench, she thought. Smiling sweetly, she said, “No.”

Flaming Arrow laughed, shaking his head. “Well, uh, Healing Hand, would you?”

“I'd be happy to, Lord,” Healing Hand said, grinning.

“Thank you.” Flaming Arrow kissed his betrothed, then checked that all the servants had gone, securing the service entrance. Finally, he returned to the central room to stay.

“Thank you, all of you, for coming tonight. You all know one another, except the Lord Gaze and the Lady Water.” Flaming Arrow paused while they exchanged greetings. “I invite all of you to speak freely tonight. You're here because you either know me well, or know bandits well.

“My father asks me to take the heads of five bandits. Lord Gaze, you'll assist me in the field. Lord Oak, you'll support me on this side of the mountains. During this discussion, I encourage all of you to express your objections or ideas, no matter how crazy they might sound.

“Lord Oak, I want you to order up all reserves and inactive personnel. In the coming hours, we'll try to decide where and when we'll need the Eastern Armed Forces.

“Lord Gaze, on this map, I want you—”

“Lord Heir, please excuse me for interrupting.” Aged Oak leaned forward in his chair. “May I ask why you want all those warriors?”

“I'd be happy to tell you. I'm going to create such havoc among the bandits that I hope to kill a quarter of them.”

“How?” four people asked simultaneously.

“I have to kill five bandits. So I'll kill five bandits—the leaders of the five largest bands.”

M
illions of futures, and most of them total anarchy—without the Swords. No Imperial Swords to subdue or tame, no Imperial Swords to grant dominion or assure succession—without them, little civilization. At the time the missing Heir Sword re-emerged, the number of futures with Imperial Swords was still great. The inexorable progress of time approached a place that would decide the future of humanity. On a narrow path lay peaceable civilization. On either side lay anarchy that would last ten thousand years.—
The Fall of the Swords
, by Keeping Track.

* * *

The potter's bow to Scowling Tiger was so scant it was insulting. Before he had straightened completely, his head leaped from his shoulders, and a fountain of blood sprayed the packed dirt.

Ripping a swatch from the potter's robe, Raging River lovingly wiped his blade. Sheathing it, he bowed to Scowling Tiger, the bandit general, who had watched the incident without a twitch. Everyone else in the clearing had thrown themselves to the ground or into the nearest bush to escape the sudden violence.

Except Seeking Sword, who also hadn't moved a muscle.

The day pleasant, Scowling Tiger had decided to hear all petitioners in the ravine near the northern entrance of the Tiger Fortress. Usually, he held court in the Lair, the gloom-filled main hall near the top of the hollow mountain. The ravine was the main access to the Tiger Fortress. Nearly all those who had business there passed through the ravine, thousands on any given day. Here, near the mountain base, the ravine was wide, a meadow between two ridges. Across the ravine from the seated bandit general, beyond a cordon of guards, travelers gawked at the corpse in the dirt, slowing traffic. The irritable guards tried to move them along.

Scowling Tiger had just refused to do business with the potter because the man's prices had been exorbitant. Then the potter had insulted him with an obeisance less than obligatory, and Raging River had leapt to defend the bandit general's honor.

“Shall I feed the body to the dogs, Lord?” Raging River asked, grinning.

Scowling Tiger was sitting comfortably on a log, the ravine wall behind him, his left fist propped on his thigh. “Too much of an honor, Lord River, no,” the bandit general said. “What do you think we should do with the corpse, Daughter?”

Beside Scowling Tiger was Purring Tiger, holding her month-old infant boy. Nearby lolled her tiger. Looking up from her child, the bandit girl smiled coldly and nodded toward her animal.

Licking its chops, the tiger rose and sank its teeth deep, tossing the trunk and legs over its shoulder. Padding north along the ravine to feed in private, the tiger dispersed the travelers in its way.

Pleased, Raging River resumed his position two paces in front and one pace to the side of his liege lord.

Scowling Tiger looked around the clearing, feigned bewilderment on his face. Moments before, twenty or so petitioners had been waiting. Now no one waited, all of them having scattered to get out of Raging River's way. The old retainer grinned.

Then Seeking Sword stepped forward.

The old retainer frowned. “Lord Tiger,” he muttered over his shoulder, “I beg permission to sharpen my blade again.”

“Still suspicious of this boy who resembles Brazen Bear?” Scowling Tiger asked, chuckling. Then his face went cold. “Permission denied.”

“Yes, Lord,” Raging River said, twisting the sword in his hands.

At five paces, Seeking Sword bowed.

“It's my young friend, Seeking Sword,” Scowling Tiger said genially.

At the acknowledgement, the young man settled back on his haunches. The brass-colored sword across his lap nearly matched his bronze hair. “Lord General Tiger,” he said.

“So sorry to hear about your difficulties with your father.” Scowling Tiger's glance dropped to the pommel of Seeking Sword's weapon, to the ruby.

“It was nothing, Lord General Tiger,” the boy said. “Forgive me, Lord, but if you concern yourself with matters so far beneath you, how do you find time even to breathe?”

“Concerning myself with the problems of my friends is as easy as breathing, Lord Sword. Surely, I have that duty to my friends.”

“You honor me more than I deserve, Lord General Tiger. I agree that we have such a duty to friends. I come this day to keep the path clear between yourself and the Lord Leaping Elk, who's as much my friend as you are.”

“The Lord Elk sent you?” Scowling Tiger asked, stiffening.

“No, Lord General Tiger, I come at no one's bidding but mine.”

Scowling Tiger laughed at the young man's unintended meaning. “I also serve no man, Lord Emperor Sword.” He bowed in gentle mockery. “So, tell me, how may I serve you?” The fist on thigh didn't move.

“The Lord General Tiger would give me a conical cap and bells for my feet,” Seeking Sword replied. “May I compliment you on how well you look? How old are you, now, Lord Tiger—forty-five?”

The bandit general roared with laughter. A small part of his mind told him not to be so gullible to the honeyed tongue of this likable young man.

“I'd like the Lord General Tiger's permission to greet the Lord Raging River and the young Lady Purring Tiger.”

Scowling Tiger nodded, still chuckling.

“It's good to see you again, Lord River. The strength and speed of your sword arm hearten me. I can only hope one day I'll be as agile.”

Raging River spluttered and stammered. “Thank you, Lord Sword, you're too kind,” he managed to say. “Perhaps, uh, you'd do me the honor of, uh, allowing me to instruct you.”

Scowling Tiger saw his retainer grow red. I'll bet a quiver of arrows Raging River is wishing he could speak as pleasantly as the younger man, the general thought. I'd even wager that he regrets he never learned—at nearly seventy years old!

“If the Lord General Tiger doesn't object, the honor would be all mine, Lord River.” He bowed and turned his attention to the woman and child. “Congratulations on the birth of such a fine boy, and you, Lady Tiger, are pretty enough to take a man's breath away.”

“Thank you, Lord Sword,” she murmured demurely, her voice barely audible.

Scowling Tiger gaped at his daughter in disbelief, wondering why Seeking Sword's head wasn't rolling in the dust. Every man who had said anything similar, or had looked at her with the wrong expression, had found his breath taken away—with her knife in his heart.

Purring Tiger merely smiled to herself, looking affectionately at her infant child.

The bandit general returned his attention to the young man, baffled.

“So, Lord General Tiger, the business which brings me here. Because of my difficulties with my father, I have decided to part ways with him. For several years now, the Lord Leaping Elk has provided me with instruction in many subjects. I owe him more than I can repay. Toward that end, I have given him my solemn oath to fight for him for ten years, and Infinite forbid it, to die for him.” Seeking Sword paused, as if expecting objections. When none were forthcoming, he continued. “I understand, Lord General Tiger, that you want or did want to recruit me.”

Scowling Tiger gave a single nod. “Any man who fights as well as you is a potential recruit.”

“Thank you, Lord General Tiger, though my skill is meager. However, it would grieve me more than I can say if you and the Lord Elk disagreed over which band I join.”

“Eh? You've joined his band already, so you've decided.”

“Yes, Lord General Tiger,” Seeking Sword replied. “In the interest of keeping the peace between our two bands, I came here to clarify matters. Forgive me my presumption.”

Wanting to grind the Elk Raiders into the dust for stealing Seeking Sword from under his nose, Scowling Tiger smiled politely. “It
is
a bit presumptuous, Lord Sword, to think that he and I would fight over you, isn't it? After all, you're young and untried.”

“A bit presumptuous, yes, Lord General Tiger.” Flush crept up Seeking Sword's face.

“I appreciate your taking the time to come here, Lord Sword. Few people care enough to keep the way clear between their friends.” Scowling Tiger smiled at him. “You've begun instruction in the Politics of Accession, taught by the esteemed Peering Owl. My daughter says he's very knowledgeable.”

“Yes, Lord General, I have.”

“Perhaps, you'd like to hear the latest rumors from across the border, where the accession is very important to us.”

“The honor and pleasure are far beyond my humble station, Lord General Tiger.”

“Clear the area,” Scowling Tiger said. A crowd had gathered to watch the bandit general and the young man converse, drawn by their ease and the contrasts of age and disposition. Drawn too, Scowling Tiger thought, by the fact that Seeking Sword admired my daughter—and lived. He waited as still as stone while Raging River and three other guards scattered the spectators.

“That you'd share with me information you'd keep from your own bandits is too much an honor, Lord General Tiger.”

“They're filth—peasants who think with swords they're Emperors!” Scowling Tiger saw discomfiture on the young man's face. Unwise to be so transparent, he thought with contempt.

“Forgive me, Father, Lord Sword,” Purring Tiger said suddenly. “I need to feed the child.” Standing, she smiled at Seeking Sword, then walked toward the fortress entrance, cooing over the child in her arms.

Why is she so gentle? Scowling Tiger wondered. Was it the child's birth? In the last month she hasn't smiled at anyone but her child. She hasn't
killed
anyone either, though. Scowling Tiger still found her behavior quite unlike her. Twice in one day, she smiled—at a
man
!

“If I may ask, Lord Tiger, who's the father?” Seeking Sword said.

The bandit general shrugged. “She won't say. If it were a daughter, the identity of the father wouldn't matter, Lord Sword. The child is a son, though, and now it matters very much.”

Legally and by custom in all three Empires, sons belonged to the father and daughters to the mother. Names matronymic and patronymic, and lineage revered even among bandits, everyone scorned a bastard son such as Purring Tiger's. Scowling Tiger had broken countless customs in naming his daughter after himself. The name of Snow was so hateful to him that he couldn't have allowed his daughter to carry it. Such a transgression was forgivable, since Purring Tiger's parentage was clear. At least we know my daughter's mother, he thought, but we don't know my grandson's father. The bandit general predicted problems later for the child with questionable paternity.

“What's the child's name, Lord Tiger?”

“She calls him Burning Tiger. I doubt she has reason.” Scowling Tiger had many doubts about his daughter, but not her viciousness nor her ability to lead. He was proud of her.

The guards had long since cleared the immediate area. Travelers still crowded the path across the ravine from the conversing bandits. Raging River had returned to his place, his sword loose in his hands, as always.

“What were these rumors you've heard, Lord Tiger?”

Scowling Tiger ground left fist into thigh. “Bad rumors, Lord Sword. The stinking Heir Flaming Arrow's fifteen and has asked his father to set his ritual requirements. A spy tells me Flying Arrow will set them this evening. When the Heir has finished with that formality, he'll come against us here. He's no weakling Heir, hiding behind generals and castle walls and his father the Emperor. He'll bring the war to us. He's formidable, an excellent swordfighter, and strong in all the arts of war.”

“It sounds as if you know him personally, Lord General Tiger.”

“I haven't had that misfortune, thank the Infinite. The moment I do, my head comes off my shoulders, and all I've built won't have a feather's chance in a gale of staying put.”

“Haven't you trained the Lady Tiger to take your place, Lord?”

“Yes, Lord Sword, I have. The men won't want to follow a woman, even though she'll lead them well. Instant rebellion and her only solution is to spill a lot of blood until she cauterizes the treachery.”

“What if she sealed the fortress?”

“Eh? What?” Scowling Tiger sat up, the fist coming off the thigh momentarily.

“What would happen if, upon your death, the Lady Purring Tiger sealed the fortress against anyone entering or leaving? Then, she could give the rebellious ones the choice to obey or die.”

Unblinking, Scowling Tiger stared at him.

Seeking Sword started to bow, as though thinking he had offended.

“Brilliant!” Scowling Tiger shouted jubilantly, startling even the stoic Raging River. “See to it, Lord River! In two days time, I want every exit completely impassable from both sides. Already, Lord Sword, they're impenetrable from the outside. Any of four switches inside the fortress closes them all. Modifications won't take more than two days, will they, Lord River?”

“No, Lord.” The small, gray-eyed man had gone to his knees at the utterance of his name. “Please, Lord, send another.”

“What? Oh, yes, that silly superstition of yours. No more of that nonsense, Lord River—go!”

Reluctantly, Raging River retreated. Another bandit stepped forward. “Lord Sword, I'm Flashing Blade,” he said, nodding to Seeking Sword. Bowing to the bandit general, Flashing Blade took Raging River's place.

“Silly old fool,” Scowling Tiger muttered, smiling. “Raging River has guarded me for almost sixty years. He thinks you'll take my head because you look so much like the Traitor Brazen Bear. What nonsense!”

Seeking Sword smiled. “Yes, Lord General Tiger, but another looks like the Traitor and that's not nonsense.”

With gravity, the bandit general met his gaze. “Infinite knows, Lord Sword, the Eastern Empire might collapse before he gains the throne. Then all bandits will lunge at Emparia City to recapture the Sword that rightly belongs to us. Bandits took the empty northern land, populated it, civilized it, and bent it to our will. You see no strife between bandits now, thanks to the Council and thank the Infinite. Only along the Windy Mountains is there contention, and
that
is between bandit and Empire.”

“The death of the Matriarch and the madness of the General should help, eh?”