The Stone Road (25 page)

Read The Stone Road Online

Authors: G. R. Matthews

Tags: #Occult, #Legend, #Fantasy, #Horror, #Sorcery, #Myth, #Science Fiction, #Asian, #Sword

BOOK: The Stone Road
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“What can I get for you,” the words pulled him away from his contemplations and he looked up into the round face of a serving girl, “Sir?”

Zhou smiled at her. She did not smile back. “Just some rice and whatever dish the cook has on the stove.”

“Dumplings?”

“No, thank you,” he replied.

“I have to see your money before you get the food.” Her voice contained a note of resignation as she spelled out the cost. It was steep. More than he had expected to pay but his fingers dipped into the belt pouch and, by touch, felt out the right coins which he placed on the table. She reached for them but he covered the coins with his own hand first.

“When I have the food,” he smiled again, this time at her retreating back.

A few minutes later he was holding the bowl up to his face and shovelling rice into his mouth with the chopsticks. The oily sauce which disguised the meat was not unpleasant but given the choice he would have passed on the meal. Right now though, he did not have the choice. He sipped at the small cup of water the serving girl had brought with his meal.

The restaurant door swung open and a quiet invaded the restaurant. At every table conversation petered out and faces turned to look at the newcomers. Soldiers marched into the restaurant and then parted, forming two lines, to let their officer through.

“Thank you for your attention.” The officer’s groomed moustache and beard parted to reveal a sardonic smile. His leather helmet was chased with silver bands and Zhou could see a dangling red tassel on the hilt of the officer’s sword, the mark of a master swordsman.  “The Duke of Yaart would like to offer a substantial reward for the capture of, dead or alive, Zhou of Wubei. This man, a dangerous criminal and threat to the safety of any town or village, is believed to be at large in this area. Any information leading to the capture of this criminal will be rewarded.”

The officer handed one of his subordinates a piece of paper. The soldier scurried to the pillar in the centre of the restaurant and placing the paper against the stout timber smeared it liberally with water from a customer’s cup, sticking it to the wood.

“Any man found harbouring or assisting this man will be similarly punished. Posters will be placed in each common establishment in every town and village in the province. Mark the face well and serve your Duke. I expect no less.” The officer swept his gaze across the room. Zhou felt the shock as his eyes met those of the officer. He held his breath as the stare lingered and then let a sigh of relief escape his lips as it moved on. The soldiers clicked their heels to attention as the officer swept his cloak around and marched out.

As soon as the troop had left, the customers rushed to crowd round the poster. Zhou sat back in his chair. His left hand remained on the table holding the water cup. His right hand he let fall to his side and, keeping an eye on the crowd, he edged it closer to the hilt of the knife hidden at the small of his back, trying to make it look as natural as he could, the act of scratching at an itch. He watched the gaggle of customers as they examined the drawn picture and gesticulated towards each other and the now closed door. None of them looked his way and he began to relax.

“If you want to get away, we have a way out of the city.” The voice in his ear brought a scream to his throat which he choked down. He turned with deliberate care towards the voice as his hand sidled back towards the knife.

“You won’t need the knife, I promise,” the serving girl said.

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

“I have checked the guards. The castle is secure,” Haung said.

The last light of day was fading from the windows of Weyl’s office. The commander carried a small taper to each of the lanterns that hung on the walls. Yellow flickers of light climbed the walls. Haung stayed still and watched the commander’s progress without turning his head.

“What do you know of the various groups of rebels who threaten the duke and the emperor?” the commander asked.

“A little of those who concern this city, Commander.”

“Tell me.”

“Firstly, the Yellow Scarves, though their presence in Yaart is limited, are a band whose base of operations is far to the west. We are on the very edge of their influence. The White Lotus are a much larger concern for us. They have staged raids on outlying villages to the north, and south, in the past and the coming of the refugees has made them bolder. I suspect they recruit quite heavily from them.” Haung paused. “Is this the information you wished?”

“In part. But, tell me, of all the groups large and small, which would you consider to be the greatest threat to the duke? Which one would be ready and willing to help this Forbidden Man murder our duke, if he comes?” The commander blew out the taper and wisps of smoke snaked upwards toward the ceiling.

“Since the refugee crisis it is much harder to get solid information about the groups operating in the city, however, my best guess would be the Blue Dragons. They have been finding ways to hurt the duke for more years than I have been alive. Their operations are small scale, but constant. Worse, from our point of view, they operate in cells,” Haung explained.

“So, we catch one, put him to the question and get three more names and then the trail runs into a canyon with no exits,” Weyl sat down in the chair behind his desk. “The castle guards are one line of defence but, as the emperor said, we are not dealing with normal men. I have asked the
Fang-shi
to prepare another layer and your bodyguard will provide the third. However, all of these exist within the confines of the castle. Much better to neutralise a threat before it becomes a danger.”

“You have a task for me?” Haung asked.

“The musician has left. I had sent orders for him to be picked up and questioned but he, along with his belongings and staff are gone. The factor who rented him the house said that the musician had gone to see the capital and play for the emperor before retiring. I’d hoped he would be a lead for us.” Weyl picked up a report from his desk.

“You would like me to go after him?”

“No, that would be a waste of time and talent. I want you to go into the city and root out any cells of the Blue Dragon you can uncover. I do not know how long we have before the Forbidden Man gets here but I want to make life as hard for him as I can. You can pick two other men to help you. Funds can be drawn from Marbu to cover expenses and equipment. I expect daily reports on your progress.” Weyl looked up from the report. “Dismissed.”

# # #

Haung paused outside the wooden door and took a deep breath. He checked he still had the signed scroll and then pushed open the door and strode in.

              “Again, Haung?” Marbu peered upwards from the scattering of scrolls and open books on his large desk. “Do you think I have an endless supply of money to be spent at your every whim and wish?”

“I have the requisition order, signed by Commander Weyl,” Haung said, struggling to keep his tone level, as he stared back at the secretary. “Everything is in order.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that. I have read the reports you’ve handed in over these past few weeks.” Marbu sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers before him. “I would have expected much more progress by now, considering the expense. At least one cell identified and contained. Perhaps, the distraction of your family means you are paying less than needed attention to your duties?”

“My wife understands my duties. They are not a distraction. Will you honour the signature on this requisition?” Haung said.

“Of course I will.” Marbu snatched the scroll from Haung’s outstretched hand and read it quickly.

Haung watched the secretary dip his hand into the leather bound chest at the side of his chair and count the money out, placing it into a small pouch which he weighed carefully in his hand. Tying the drawstrings, Marbu pitched it over the desk towards Haung.


Jiin-Wei,
I do not like you. I do not trust you,” Marbu said.

“Have I done something to offend you, Secretary Marbu,” Haung replied.

“There is something different in you. You do not act as the other
Jiin-Wei
do for the duke,” Marbu said.

“I saved his life.” Haung guarded his expression whilst recollections of the touch of the duke’s mind whirled through his head.

“That is your job, your duty. No, there is something else I do not trust about you. The duke gives you too much, keeps you too close.” Marbu stood from his chair and came round to the side of the desk. “I have spoken with the commander about my concerns though the duke seems happy with your service. Be assured,
Jiin-Wei
, you are being watched.”

“I serve the duke and commander out of honour and duty, Marbu. That I have been rewarded is by their choice not mine of asking.” Haung forced his hand to stay away from the hilt of his sword.

“As do I, Haung. But, still I do not trust you. You should know this; if you fail in your duties towards the duke then I have left orders that the life of your wife and son be forfeit.” Marbu smiled, but his eyes burned into Haung’s. “I hope that this gives you added incentives to stay loyal and perform well.”

“Marbu,” Haung took a step forward, his left hand tilted the scabbarded sword at his waist forward, into the drawing position, and whispered, “if anything happens to my wife or my son then the first person to die will be you. I hope that this gives you an added incentive to keep them well.”

Haung took another step forward, then another, coming so close to the secretary that he could smell spices on the other man’s breath. He stood still, staring straight into Marbu’s eyes and letting the depth of his anger show in his own. The room faded from his vision, only the secretary existed at that moment. The secretary with the prominent throbbing vein in his neck that a simple cut or slice could not miss. “I trust we understand each other.”

“We do,” Marbu whispered back, matching Haung’s tone.

Haung smiled, walling the anger back up behind the shields in his mind, feeling the room brighten as he did so.

“Good.” Haung turned his back to the secretary and left.

# # #

Haung strode along the corridors towards his quarters, nodding to the guards at their stations. At the door to his apartment he slowed down, steadied his breathing and calmed his mind. Only when he was sure that he was completely in control did he open the door and step in.

The smell of soiled diapers and warm milk drifted up his nose. The outer room had ceased to be a place of relaxation and had instead become festooned with drying clothes and baby toys. In the centre, on the floor, his little boy lay on a blanket, gurgling up at the ceiling. Jiao sat on a small pile of cushions nearby. She looked as beautiful as the day he had married her but even he could admit she had an air of exhaustion about her.

“Jiao,” he whispered.

“Haung,” she started to rise but he put out a hand to stop her and she sank back onto the cushions, “you are home early. The extra guards in the castle, something is happening?”

“Possibly. The duke is unsure but taking precautions is the wise thing to do.” He sat down next to her, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he watched the boy wave his arms and legs. “How’s he been today?”

“Crying, feeding and crying some more,” Jiao said as she leant her head against her husband’s firm shoulder.

“No sleeping?”

“In little bits. Not enough for me,” she said.

“I’ll take over for a little while.” He curled an arm around Jiao’s small form. “We need to talk though, first.”

Jiao raised her eyes to his, “Oh? What is going on? Why the extra guards?”

“Those are one thing; the duke fears an attack by a small force of men. We had information from the emperor himself but that is not my immediate worry,” he said.

“Then what is Haung?”

“Marbu dislikes the idea of a married
Jiin-Wei
. Either that or he really dislikes me.”

“How is it different from before?”

“He has made threats that concern you and the baby. Always before it has been snide, double-edged comments but tonight it was blatant. I could not let it pass. Times are too uncertain and I worry that he will use the heightened security to manufacture a reason to carry out his threats. I have made it clear to him that if anything happens to you or the baby, I will kill him.” Haung felt his wife stiffen in his arms.

“Haung, go to Weyl, go to the duke, they will do something.”

“No, Jiao, they won’t. All I have is my word against a man they have trusted with their lives for more years than I have been in the duke’s service. I don’t have anything to use against him.” Haung turned himself round to face his wife. “I want you to pack bags, emergency bags. One for you and one for the baby. Stay in these rooms, I’ll see that food and supplies are delivered by someone I trust. Open the door to me only and the rest of the time keep it locked.”

“Haung, we can’t live as prisoners in our own rooms. It’s not fair. Not on me or the baby.”

“A week, maybe two at the most. By then I’ll have something worked out. I just need a little time to make the arrangements,” Haung said. “I have a friend in the Capital. I need to get word to him.”

“The Capital?”

“Yes. Now, get some sleep if you can. I’ll spend some time with the boy. It’s going to be a busy few days.”

# # #

“You are sure this is the place?”

“Yes, Haung. We’ve been watching it for three days now. The same man visits the innkeeper at the same time every day, buys the same drink, and stays the same amount of time, then leaves,” the other
Jiin-Wei
said.

“Doesn’t make him a Blue Dragon,” Haung said, staring at the inn door.

“True, but our background checks suggest he comes from the province, arrived in the city a few weeks ago and, though money falls like rice from his hands, he doesn’t have a job or any source of income that we can discover. So...”

“So whatever he is doing is illegal anyway.” Haung patted the
Jiin-Wei
on the shoulder. “Good work. How long till he gets here?”

“Not long now.”

“Right, in that case I’ll go and get set up in the inn. Get one of your men to guard the back entrance in case it all goes to hell,” Haung said.

“He’s already in place, Haung. We’re not new to this you know.”

“I know. Sorry.” Haung checked the knife was in place at the small of his back and then shook hands with his fellow
Jiin-Wei
, just two friends ending a conversation on a street corner, and headed into the inn.

The tall wooden door swung open under the pressure of his hand and he stepped inside. The ground floor was spacious and airy with square tables set in regular rows, four stools at each. The long bar, already busy with customers, took up one of the walls. In the far corner, a small raised stage with a lone, unoccupied, stool; the musician’s dais. A staircase lined the other wall, leading up to the second floor which was really just a balcony that ran along all four sides of the building. Above that the roof, constructed of wooden struts running down and across, that supported the slate above.

Only a few of the tables were occupied and Haung took a quick glance at the occupants. All were dressed in silks, not the really expensive type but still fashionable and more than he could afford on his
Jiin-Wei
salary. Business men, he categorised them. The customers at the bar were dressed in similar silk robes. It was that kind of inn. Close enough to the heart of the business district to be a regular meeting and deal brokering establishment. Unlike many inns he had been to, no one here was shouting, laughing loudly or arguing with a fellow drunk. All the conversation was quiet and purposeful. The local militia had reported ‘no trouble’ from this place for more years than any could remember. A perfect place for a group of rebels to utilise, no one would suspect anything untoward happening here.

Haung fingered his own silk robes, borrowed from the
Jiin-Wei
stores for this mission. They were not the height of fashion, nor as obviously costly as those worn by many of the men here. They placed him somewhere between a newcomer and an established businessman. Not low enough to warrant introductions and not high enough to be known by everyone.

He had a few words with the bartender, bought a small bottle of rice wine and took two cups from the stand, before finding an empty table where he could get a good, unobstructed view of the door. He flicked the robe out behind him before lowering himself onto the stool and pouring a short measure of wine into the cup, knocking it back in a single motion. He placed the other cup on the opposite side of the table and filled it with a full measure then refilled his own. Wetting his finger with a little wine, he drew a complicated symbol on the table top and then covered it with his hand. Before it evaporated he fixed it in place with a quick incantation, feeling the spell click into place beneath his palm. He drew back his hand a little and tapped the invisible sigil twice with his middle finger. A second later he felt a single pulse against his finger tip, the return signal from the
Jiin-Wei
on watch outside.

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