The Red Plains (The Forbidden List Book 3) (25 page)

“What?” Zhou said.

“The between, a realm where the dead reside for forty-nine days. In that realm they die seven more times until their fate is chosen. Those who have lived good lives move on to the tenth realm, the Jade Emperor’s realm. Those who have not, are reborn to try again and again.” Biyu looked into Zhou’s eyes as she spoke and, try as he might, he could not pull away. “There is no memory of the life before, the choice before them remains the same. Be good or evil. Do right or do wrong. The universe carried out the creation and, though it no longer holds sway on the world, it will not allow anything it created to be destroyed.”

“But things are destroyed all the time. My city was burned to the ground, the people, my wife and child,” he choked on the words, “were killed.”

“That is not destruction, child, that is change. The only time anything leaves the realms is when the spirits move onto the Jade Heaven where all their lives are laid out before them. However, Yángwū was neither fire nor death, if that term makes it easier for you, when I met him last.”

“You’ve met him?” Xióngmāo said, sitting forward on her seat. “When? How?”

“A thousand years ago, my dear, at the last of the meetings. They come around so quickly these days. Well,” Biyu struggled to her feet, “I suppose we had best be off.”

“Off? Where?” Zhou asked.

“To the meeting. The time is almost here. Let’s go and see what your Emperor wants, shall we?”

“The Emperor will be there?” Zhou through a confused look towards Xióngmāo.

“Of course he will, child,” Biyu said, rapping a hand on the stone table. “Where are those servants? So slow these days. When I get back, I am going to have to have a word with their parents. Such a lack of respect in the young these days. Your Emperor is the
Wu
immortal now, is he not?”

“My... the Emperor?” Xióngmāo’s voice was muffled by the hand she held over her open mouth.

“Yes, of course.” Biyu gave her a sly look. “You didn’t know? I think you need a few more centuries of growing up, my dear. Come on. We can’t be late. Ah, here they are. So slow. No respect.”

Zhou and Xióngmāo stood, rooted to the spot, as the little old lady tottered off to berate the servants.

Cold.

Dark.

Breathe. Small breaths. Don’t panic. Stay in the quiet.

Hold her hand. Hold the rope. Don’t let go.

Breathe. Calm.

Haung muttered to himself in the darkness of the hood. It formed a bubble around his head. Even without being able to see, he was aware of many things. The pulse in his veins, the throbbing in his ears, the beat of his heart, the freezing water that surrounded him and stole his heat. He could feel his arms scrape along the walls of the tunnel and the bubble of life-sustaining air caused him to bump along the roof. Without her, without Sabaa, he would be dead. Drowned. Floating in the darkness forever. His decaying body poisoning the water.

He clung on to her and to the quiet.

# # #

“Quite an entrance.”

“Yes, my lord,” Haung said and bowed low.

The Emperor was dressed not in a fine robe, but armour. A dark leather tunic that hung down to his knees, sewn with hundreds of overlapping square plates of golden metal, likely iron coloured or plated to look like gold. Below that, black, polished leather boots. A belt circled the Emperor’s waist and the studs for attaching a sword’s scabbard were visible. The sword itself, a
Jian
with a pommel shaped in the form of a dragon’s head, rested against the throne.

The throne room had been transformed into a command centre. Generals, colonels, aides and administrators stood around tables full of maps and scrolls crowded with symbols. One table, set apart from the others, was home to three black robed magicians. In contrast to the military, these three stood calmly around their table, focused upon the bronze bowl in the centre. A single thread of yellow smoke rose from it towards the high, decorated ceiling.

“And welcome to the Empire, Honoured Sabaa,” the Emperor turned to Haung’s companion. “I trust my staff have looked after all your needs?”

“They have been very kind,” she replied.

“And the rooms set aside for you?”

“Certainly more pleasant than the tent walls and sand floor I am used to. I do miss the warm winds of my homeland.” She walked over to a table and peered at the reports.

The general in charge puffed out his chest, raised a hand and his lips opened. No words came forth and the soldier looked to the Emperor for assistance.

“You’re making my soldiers nervous, Honoured Sabaa, they are not used to a woman looking over their shoulders,” the Emperor said, moving to her side. “Perhaps, we could continue our conversation somewhere a little less busy? Colonel Haung, join us.”

# # #

“You seem to be at war,” Sabaa said.

The three of them sat around a small table in a private room. There were only two guards and the three servants who had brought tea. Steam rose from the delicate porcelain cups, the jasmine scent a welcome reminder of civilisation.

“The Empire has been invaded,” the Emperor said.

“It is your own fault for having permanent homes. I told you centuries ago to keep moving. That which can’t be found, can’t be hurt,” Sabaa said.

Haung stopped his hand as it moved towards the tea cup that rested on the table before him. Centuries?

The Emperor looked away from the dark haired woman with the tattoo on her face, and stared at Haung for a moment. The Emperor’s eyes flickered as Haung, forgetting himself, stared back. Gone were the dark round pupils and instead an elongated pupil of gold surrounded by deep red looked back at him. The eye of a cat, or lizard, and behind it, age beyond measure. Then the human eyes were back. Haung ducked his head, averting his gaze.

“Leave us,” the Emperor spoke. The guards and servants did not hesitate or question the order. Only when the door closed behind them did he speak again. “I forget how easily you view these things, Sabaa. Can either of you ensure we are not overheard?”

Haung nodded. Though the room was empty there were likely spyholes or enchantments set by
Fang-shi
or
Jiin-Wei
that allowed the caster to listen in. The palace was probably riddled with them. The
Jiin-Wei
, in their desire to protect the Emperor, would listen in to every conversation of import that took place. It was their role, and he understood it as, he was sure, did the Emperor.

Across the small round table Sabaa nodded. “I can certainly prevent the sound escaping the room, but the air may become a little stale if we stay in here too long.”

“I am grateful,” the Emperor said. “Colonel Haung?”

“It is possible that I can negate the charms for a short time, but,” he paused, took a breath and resumed his confession, “I have not used the
Jiin-Wei
skills for a time. I would really need to find every charm, every imbued word within the room to prevent anyone from listening. A
Fang-shi
would be...” he tailed off as the Emperor shook his head.

“Do what you can, Colonel,” the Emperor said.

Haung dipped the tip of his finger into the hot tea. Using this crude ink, he scribed a series of
hanzi
upon the surface of the table and, when he had finished, spoke a few words under his breath. He felt the power, a cold shiver down his spine and a sharp pain in stomach. He shuddered and had to catch himself on the table. The headache began at the back of his head and, before he could take a another breath, a thin river of fire raced across his scalp.

“Are you all right, Colonel?” The Emperor said.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, my lord. I am finding it somewhat difficult to reconcile the teachings of the
Taiji
with those of the
Jiin-Wei
.” Haung pressed his thumbs to his temples, massaging the flesh. The pain was lessening as he reached out a shaky hand to pick up his cup and take a big swallow of the hot tea.

“That is to be expected,” the Emperor said. “I am sure you will discover a way, if you so desire. Far better to choose one over the other, though this may not be the best time to let any advantage, or any power you have, go unused. We will not be overheard?”

“We have some time,” Sabaa said.

Haung nodded, carefully, in agreement.

“Good,” the Emperor said, taking up his own cup and looking more relaxed than Haung had ever seen. “It is time for a little honesty, and with Sabaa here I think I have little choice. Colonel, you know how many people meet the Emperor? Hundreds, thousands you would think. And maybe they do, but they do not see the truth. I have been the Emperor for many more years than most realise. Every so often, every forty or fifty years, a son arrives from the summer or winter palaces to take up the reins and the old Emperor retires. At least, that is what the populace understands. The reality is somewhat different, but too complicated to explain at this time.”

Haung glanced at Sabaa and saw that she was nodding. The Emperor continued.

“The Mongols arrived and laid siege to the city, but they have yet to do any real damage. The city walls are defended by many years of
Fang-shi
spells and charms. The people of the horse have suffered heavy losses, but mounted no real threat. All they have succeeded in doing is containing us here. They are mobile and numerous. To put the city’s army into the field against them would be, in all likelihood, a folly. They cannot hurt us and, if they attack, we can hurt them.”

“A stalemate?” Sabaa said, referring to the game of
Xianqi
. Neither player could make a move without exposing a weakness and losing the game.

“Quite,” the Emperor agreed.

“I don’t understand,” Haung confessed.

“They cannot take the capital, Colonel, and we cannot get out.”

“They could starve the city?” Haung said.

“Unlikely. Though our population has grown, we have supplies and stores for quite some time. Water is not a problem either. No, they cannot wait us into submission. We still have large armies in different parts of the Empire and they are on the march. At that point, the Mongols will be caught between two forces and destroyed.”

“Why can’t we use the Dragon Gates to bring the forces here?”

“The Dragon Gates no longer work,” the Emperor said. “I am not sure how, but they have become unreliable. We must wait for the armies to arrive.”

“However, we cannot afford to wait,” Sabaa said. “We have somewhere to be.”

“That we do.” The Emperor nodded. “Colonel Haung, Honoured Sabaa and I, alongside a few others, have a very important meeting to attend. One we cannot afford to miss.”

“Stop obscuring things with hidden words and meanings, tell him the truth. If we are going to need his help, be honest with him.” Sabaa put both her hands flat on the table, either side of her tea cup. “Haung, your Emperor is one of the immortals, though immortal is not really the correct term. His realm is that of the Spirit, he is what you would call a
Wu.”

“Like Zhou and Xióngmāo?” Haung said.

“Just like Zhou and Xióngmāo,” the Emperor said, rubbing his cheek. “I am not the first immortal of that realm. I was given the gift, though curse would also be a fitting word, centuries ago. Sabaa here is another immortal.”

Sabaa nodded. “For the realm of air. There are others and we must attend a meeting on the Three Mountain Peak. We do not have much time to get there.”

“A meeting? I don’t understand.” Haung looked between the two of them.

“Every thousand years, the immortals meet the Jade Emperor and reaffirm their oaths of allegiance.” The Emperor sipped at his tea.

“And if you don’t?” Haung slipped into the comforting role of questioner, being a
Jiin-Wei
was ingrained in his soul.

“If we don’t,” Sabaa began, “then I am not quite sure what happens. I do know that none of it will be good. The oaths have been reaffirmed since the world, and the realms, were split.”

“My best guess,” the Emperor held the tea cup in both hands and paused before completing his thought, “is that that division of the realms will weaken, the Jade Emperor will lose some of his power.”

“And if that happens?” Haung pushed.

“Then,” the Emperor shrugged and shared a look with Sabaa, “the realms would be under threat. The Jade Emperor would struggle to hold them apart from the universe.”

“And then?” Haung heard the words leave his mouth, gulped and added, “My apologies, my lord.”

The Emperor waved it away, placing the empty tea cup back on the table. “I am not sure and neither is Sabaa. According to the records, it has never happened.”

Haung opened his mouth to ask another question, but held it back when the door swung open and Jing Ke walked in. The
Jiin-Wei
glanced at the Emperor and Sabaa. There was no surprise on either of their faces.

“You started without me?” the assassin, terrorist and
Taiji
said.

“I sent a messenger,” the Emperor replied, defending himself, “and we haven’t covered much ground yet. Just informing the Colonel of the situation.”

“And do you understand it?” Jing Ke turned to Haung and gave him a questioning look.

“Not much,” Haung admitted.

“I felt the same way when I was told. My father, my adopted father, told me lots of tales when I was growing up. Many myths and legends, combined with bit of religion and philosophy. I took them all to be stories, until a few years ago.” Jing Ke pulled back one of the empty chairs and sat down. “Things change. Myths become truth. None of which changes the facts. We need to get to the mountains and the meeting.”

“You are going to?” Haung said.

“I have to be there, Haung. I am one of the immortals.” Jing Ke gave Haung a big smile that did not reach his eyes. In those there was a deep well of sadness.

“But you were born? I mean, Shifu told me the story of finding you in the village.”

“We told you,” Sabaa said, “the word immortal is really the wrong word. The immortality is not a physical thing, it can be passed on to others. The Emperor received it from his forbearer, as did I and as did our friend here.”

“Shifu carried it ever since the temples were destroyed in the wars, centuries ago. He had been searching for the next person to carry it and found me. In turn, I will be looking for the next.” Jing Ke turned to the other two immortals in the room. “However, again, none of this solves our problem. We need to get to the mountain.”

“And we need to protect the city,” Haung added. In his mind, the image of his wife and child overlapped with the memory of that small house in Wubei, the children and the sobbing mother.

“The city is protected,” the Emperor said. “The Mongol army is not sufficient to break into the city or do any serious damage. There are enough
Fang-shi
within the walls and a large enough army to ensure our safety. What we lack is the strength on the open field to break out. Without additional forces, the city remains under siege.”

“How long do you have until the meeting?” Haung asked.

“Three days,” Sabaa answered.