The Stone Road (29 page)

As he moved towards the gate one of the guards stepped forward.

“We’ve sent a runner for the patrols. Best you don’t go in,” he said.

Zhou nodded to him but ignored the advice and stepped in through the gate. The courtyard was divided into four quarters. Two, at diagonals, were expensively tiled to produce patterns that, in the flickering light, were hard to make out. Of the other two, the closest was a rocky herb garden and the furthest an ornamental pond. In the pond, a man floated face down and amongst the herbs another laid sprawled out staring up at the clouded sky.

All of the doorways on the raised wooden walkway that surrounded the courtyard were closed apart from the one directly ahead. A face appeared at a window to his left and it quickly vanished from view. A servant, he thought. He reached for the spirit and let it come to him, feeling the animal fill him and assume his form. His nostrils picked up the iron tang of spilt blood, the taint of fear on the gentle breeze. The courtyard brightened and now he could make out the dragon design on the tiles and its reflection in the roof decoration.

“Zhou, we should go.” The boy’s voice sounded behind him and Zhou turned. The young boy’s face blanched and he staggered backwards, turned and fled through the gates.

Zhou rolled his sleeves up, away from his hands, as he prowled the courtyard, heading towards the open door. A trail of blood, small spatters and tiny puddles, indicated the direction the man had fled from. Zhou followed them back to the source. He stepped over another man's body lying in the doorway and entered the inner room. There was only one other occupant whose expensive robes were ruined by the lake of blood it lay face down in.

Zhou reached out a hand and turned him over. As the head lolled, Zhou saw the deep wound in the man's neck and the crushed nose on his face. He quickly searched the body and found absolutely nothing. The whole chain of people had led to this, a literal dead end. There was no-where else to go but the castle and no one to help him. He was on his own.

The clatter of metal and armour from outside made him turn sharply. He raced from the room and out into the courtyard. Five patrol soldiers had entered the courtyard. Two were checking each body and the fifth, the one giving orders, was blocking the gateway.

“Stop him,” the leader shouted and pointed at Zhou. The other guards raised themselves from their inspection of the dead, drew their swords and advanced on him.

The escape route through the gate was blocked and Zhou had no intention of getting caught tonight. He ran at the soldiers and then, at the last second, changed direction and leapt on spirit infused legs up onto the roof of house. Despite the shouts and threats from below he jumped again, down into the street and sped away.

Chapter 34

Haung stumbled up the street. Ahead, he could see the gate to the castle and through it the route to ensuring his wife’s safety. He could still feel the pain from the wound on his back but the blood had ceased flowing.

“
Jiin-Wei
?” One of the castle guards had spotted him.

“Let me through.” Haung straightened as much as the pain would allow. “I must report to Commander Weyl.”

“You’re hurt. I’ll sender a runner to get a healer.” The guard handed his spear to a comrade and stepped forward to help Haung.

Haung raised his hand, “No need. My news is too important to wait on a healer. Send a message to the Captain of the Guard. Ask him to station guards throughout the castle immediately. I have news of an assassin.”

The guard saluted, “Right away. I’ll do it myself.”

Haung staggered through the gate and into the castle proper. The guard. having reclaimed his spear, raced off without waiting for him. Haung passed the second gateway and into the large open courtyard. Straight ahead, the tiered central keep reached up towards the dark clouds. Branching either side were the administration buildings and to his right and left the soldiers’ barracks. Haung’s destination was the other side, in buildings set aside for officers and other functionaries who ran the castle proper.

“Marbu, I am coming for you,” he muttered.  Haung walked across the courtyard with an itch between his shoulder blades expecting, any second, an arrow to steal the last of his life. The troops on the battlements were all looking out onto the town and those patrolling the courtyard did not approach him, but still the itch remained.

Haung’s legs ached as he climbed the steps, a much longer journey than he could ever remember, up to the main door. The guards stationed at the top moved to help but he waved them away. Instead of turning towards Commander Weyl’s office he went the opposite way, towards Jiao and his child.

The atmosphere of the castle was changing with every step. The news of his return, and the manner of it, had raced ahead of him. The corridors were becoming busier as more and more soldiers took up their positions. The guard had carried out his orders and at least the duke would be safe and, hopefully, the guards in the corridors would stop Marbu carrying out the murder of his family.

# # #

“Who is it?” The voice was muffled by the wooden door.

“Jiao, it’s me.” Haung lent on the wall next to the door, “Let me in, quickly.”

The wooden door opened a crack and Haung saw Jiao’s suspicious eyes peering through. There was a gasp and then the door was wrenched open and Haung almost fell into her arms as she helped him inside.

“Lock and bar the door.” Haung lowered himself onto a stool, wincing as the cut on his back was pulled open again. Jiao followed his commands. “Jiao, we need to leave.”

“What’s happened?” She started to slip the wooden toggles from the hoops on his robe.

“Marbu is behind the attacks on the duke.” He gave a sharp intake of breath as the slit and bloody robe was pulled away from the wound. “I killed one of his assassins tonight but there are others and they could already be in the castle. Someone will be coming here to kill you and the baby. The assassin told me they would. We have to leave.”

“You’re hurt. Let me wash the wound.”

“Jiao, later.” He tried to turn and face her but was brought up short by a grimace of pain.

“Husband, we need you to live. The wound needs treating and you’re no good to us dead. It won’t take long.” He could hear Jiao bustling around behind him. “Go and lay face down on the bed. But be quiet, the baby is still asleep.”

Haung paused by the bed, looked down at his sleeping child and smiled. The bed cover was soft and warm against his bare skin, the mattress gave under his weight and he realised how tired he was.

“Don’t you go to sleep, Haung,” Jiao said as she swabbed the blood away from the wound on his back. “You’ve got fibres from your robe in the cut. I’ll have to get them all out or it will get infected.”

“How deep?” Haung asked. The absence of the robe, the cool water on his skin and the gentle breeze were quenching the burning pain.

“More blood than anything. It needs sewing up though. You should see a healer. I’ve got the tweezers but,” Jiao said, “this is going to hurt a bit.”

“No time, Jiao. I’m sorry,” and he placed his palms on the bed to push himself up.

“Make time,” she said and pushed him back down again.

Haung clenched his jaws together as Jiao began to pick out the fibres from the wound. Jiao’s tweezers were a kingfisher dancing across a lake, dipping its sharp beak in here and there snatching up fish from just below the rippled surface. He gripped the bed covers hard and buried his forehead in the soft mattress, smothering his cries and whimpers.

“Done,” she said finally and he felt the wash of cool water again.

Haung edged off the bed and stood up feeling slightly lightheaded. Jiao passed him a bowl of wine which he drank in one great gulp.

“Help me with the bandage,” he asked his wife and together they wound tight layers of bandages around his middle. “Now, pack a bag. We need to get moving.”

Haung dragged a pair of lose cotton trousers, a silk tunic and leather vest out of the wardrobe and struggled into them whilst Jiao busied herself with the packing. Last of all, he picked up a belt sewn with lots of little leather pouches and buckled it around his waist.

“You’ll have to carry him,” he said to Jiao. “I’ll protect you both.” He reached into the wardrobe one more time and pulled out his scabbarded
Jian
Sword. “Ready?”

Jiao picked up their still sleeping child and held him close, “Ready.”

# # #

Haung left the room first, checking left and right down the corridor. It was empty. He beckoned Jiao to follow.

“The main gate will be locked down now but I have another route in mind,” Haung said and began to move off down the corridor, sword in hand.

Two soldiers came round the corner and a step behind them, Marbu.

“Going somewhere,
Jiin-Wei
Haung?” Marbu said. “The commander would like a word with you.”

Haung backed up a step, “Jiao, get back into the room and lock the door,” he whispered.

“But...” Jiao began.

“Don’t argue, please.” Haung drew his sword from the scabbard and slid into a defensive stance, right foot extended, sword arm straight, point aimed at the soldiers, “I am going nowhere with you.”

“I warned the commander of your treachery, Haung.” Marbu waved the soldiers forward, “And now you will pay the price.”

Chapter 35

The last thing Zhou did before leaving the inn was to pick up the Dryad’s staff. The tingle on his palm as he gripped the smooth wood was reassuring. Everything else he owned and would need he shoved into a small bag that he left at the foot of the bed. He locked the door from the inside and then opened the small window in the far wall. It looked out over the wooden roof of the stable upon which he landed with a low thump. He waited for any change in the noise coming from the inn or stables that would indicate someone was coming to investigate, but after a few moments he was sure they had carried on as before. Creeping to the edge, he looked down to ensure the coast was clear and then lowered himself to the ground.

The late night streets were quiet and Zhou, resting the short staff on his shoulders, walked along them, towards the castle, trying to appear confident, as though he belonged. If a patrol came near he would nod to them and, often as not, he received a nod back, occasionally a smile too. The castle itself was not too distant and Zhou knew, from his guide, that he would not have to traverse the poorer and more dangerous areas of the town. Beneath the rich silk robe he had purchased earlier with the last of the dryad’s silver and gold he was sweating. The robe, chosen for its length as much as its style and function as a disguise, covered the darker, tighter clothing that he had selected for the real purpose of tonight.

The closer he came to the castle complex, the more frequent the patrols became. He noticed a change in the soldiers too. They did not smile at him now, their eyes were more concerned with the shadowed areas which the lanterns did not illuminate. Hands never strayed far from the handle of swords or loosened their grip on haft of spear. He sweated even more.

“Excuse me, Sir.” The next patrol he met stopped him. “It would be best if you went home now, Sir. The hour is late and it is not safe to walk the streets at this hour. Even this close to the castle, footpads and rascals have been known to operate.”

“It has always been safe before, Captain,” Zhou said.

“Corporal,” the soldier said. “But ever since the refugees turned up the streets haven't been as they were. Best you were at home, Sir. Have your servants fix you a drink and relax. There is more rain on the way, prime conditions for a footpad to operate.”

“Good advice, Sergeant.” Zhou smiled and nodded to the soldier, “Seems to be a few more patrols out tonight than I am used to seeing. Something happening?”

“Nothing unusual, Sir. Just want to make the streets safe for honest people like yourself,” and Zhou noted the slight frown appearing on the soldier’s face. “Now, I must insist that you make your way home. I can have a guard escort you, if you’d like?”

Zhou read that as ‘keep an eye on you’ and bowed politely to the soldier, “No need, Captain, no need. I can see you have your duties to do. I’ll heed your advice and go home for a relaxing drink. Good might to you.”

The soldier returned the bow, “And to you, Sir.”

Zhou tapped the staff on the cobbles as he walked away, a gentleman with a cane, and turned the corner at the end of the street, moving away from the castle. He walked and tapped until he was sure the soldiers were out of hearing distance and then picked up the pace back towards the castle.

There were more patrols but by being careful, patient and sticking to the shadows he made it closer and closer to the castle walls without being stopped again. The height of the buildings decreased as he neared the walls, from three storeys down to one and the last hundred paces were empty of structures. The wide open space was well lit by the lanterns on the castle walls and regularly patrolled by guards.

Zhou perched on the roof of a two storey house three or four streets back from the walls. The expensive robe had been rolled up and wedged beneath the eaves. From here, he could see the patrols go round and round, maybe just enough time between to make a dash across the killing ground before the walls without being spotted. Certainly, he thought, not enough time to cross the distance and scale the walls before the next patrol came into sight. To add to his troubles, there were guards on the walls as well. He sat and watched the guards go round and round. The walls so close and so far out of reach.

As he considered and discarded options he saw a soldier race up to the two who were currently patrolling his side of the wall. They had, from the gesticulations of the newcomer, a heated conversation. Then, all three turned and ran back the way the messenger had come from.

Zhou slid to the edge of the roof, lowered himself down onto the balcony below and then once more to the street. Calling the spirit he felt it infuse his limbs with strength and speed, his vision blurred and then sharpened. Night was almost as clear as day. He sped through the last few streets and, after a quick glance left and right, across the open space of the killing field. He expected a shout of alarm at any moment and breathed a small sigh of relief as he pressed himself up against the stone wall.

The wall towered over him, looking much higher than it had from the roof of the house. He slipped two climbing claws out of the small bag, a gift from the dryad, and slipped them over his hands. The staff he secured to his back by wrapping dark material round and round his torso. Taking a cleansing breath, he held the spirit close and began to scale the wall, ears straining to pick up the footsteps of the guards above.

The small claws found the spaces between the blocks or hooked into the mortared joints. Without them, climbing the wall would have been all but impossible, the stones too tightly fitted for a finger or toe to make a secure hold. Zhou’s feet found just enough friction and purchase to take a little weight off his arms but by the time he neared the top they were tired and aching. He hung still for a moment and tried to breathe without making a sound. Sure that no guard was marching close by, he slipped over the top and immediately leapt from the walkway to the roof of the building ten paces away, legs absorbing the impact. One slate tile began to slide and he snapped a hand out, catching it before it fell. He held the tile close and lay flat against the sloping roof.

In the shadow between the lanterns above and below, Zhou was thankful for the rest. He placed the climbing claws into the bag, pushed the betraying tile back into position and spent a few moments rubbing some life back into his arms. Then he took his first look at the interior of the castle. The tall keep stood in the centre, the different floors marked by the outstretched, upsweeping arcs of their tiled roofs. Between Zhou and the keep were regular spaced buildings, all of the same length, arranged on a grid pattern. The pathways between each building were lit by lanterns hanging down from eaves. There was no way to walk along those without being noticed. The roofs it is, he decided.

Staying low and placing each foot with care, he crept along the edge of the roof. Guards and other people, administrators by the paper and scrolls they carried, hurried along the pathways below him. No one looked up, too intent on their tasks. He studied his chosen route. Five buildings to leap between, five roofs to scurry along and the keep to enter, all without being noticed. He sat back on his haunches and tried to re-think his approach. Quite clearly the castle was too busy for a stealthy entry and search. I’ll be spotted in a second and then the whole castle will be on the lookout for me, he thought, there has to be way.

# # #

Zhou fell in behind an administrator carrying a wooden box full of scrolls. His own arms were laden down with scrolls and a scholar's robe covered the dark clothes, the unfortunate previous owner would wake in a few hours with a large bruise and a headache to match. He kept his head down as they approached the guarded door to the keep.

“Halt and state your business,” the guard said, barring the pathway with his spear.

“Reports for the
Fang-shi
,” the administrator in front said and, shifting the box slightly, managed to raise his left hand to the guard. In turn, the guard examined the hand and then let him pass.

“State your business.” The guard now spoke to Zhou.

“Reports for,” Zhou paused for a second, “the Guard Captain.”

“Show me,” the guard said.

“If you take the top scroll off,” Zhou began.

“Not the scrolls,” the guard sighed. “The ring.”

“The ring?” Zhou’s mind raced. Is that what the last administrator had showed? “I can’t let go of these scrolls, they’ll fall everywhere and be ruined.”

“I need to see the ring before I can let you in,” the guard said and then he turned to the other guard who had stayed by the door. “Always one, isn’t there.”

“Really, I have it,” he lied. Zhou recalled stripping the unconscious administrator and spotting  dark ring on the man’s left hand, assuming it was just a display of wealth. “If you could just bend down and look. I can’t move my hands and drop this load. I would be in so much trouble.”

The guard sighed and did as Zhou had asked, “Too bloody dark to see a thing.”

“It is there,” Zhou pleaded.

“Go on,” the guard sighed again and stepped back. “But when you come back through here I want to see that ring.”

“Of course,” Zhou bobbed his head several time, “Of course. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Get a move on then.” The guard waved him on, shaking his head at the same time.

# # #

Zhou turned another corner, completely lost in the maze of the keep. The new corridor ahead was wide, and the thick wooden doors at the end were ajar. He shuffled down the corridor, still juggling the load he carried, towards the two guards stationed outside. His spirit enhanced ears picked out voices coming from inside.

“I tell you, Commander, there is no chance that an assassin can get through the guards we have deployed.” The voice was deep and stirred Zhou’s memory. “The
Fang-shi
have laced the courtyard and walls with seals and alarms. The
Jiin-Wei
sweeping the corridors.”

“I’d feel better with more stationed around yourself,” a second voice, “at least until we have Haung’s full report. Where is that man, he should have been here by now.”

“The guard who carried his message said
Jiin-Wei
Haung was injured. He was probably more in need of a healer than he suspected.”

“He told the guard he was coming to you. Can you not find him, my Lord?” the second voice said.

The duke. Zhou tightened his grip on the box of scrolls before he dropped them and rushed in to fulfil his need for vengeance.

“You know I cannot. I’ve met very few like him. His shield is strong. But he is loyal and trusted. I would not make such a man the Captain of my Bodyguard without being able to trust him. It is his very independence of thought that makes him so valuable to me. He will be here commander. Come, have a drink, calm your nerves.”

“Marbu offered, and I have sent him to collect young Haung. Wound or not, his report is vital to your safety. His first duty is to you.” There was the sound of glass on glass and the gurgle of liquid pouring.

Zhou took a deep breath and approached the guards, “Reports for the commander and duke.”

“Wait here,” the first guard said before turning to his compatriot, “Watch him.”

The second guard moved to block Zhou’s advance as the first opened the door wider and entered. Zhou nodded to the guard left watching him, “Terribly busy night.”

“Suppose you aren’t used to working this late,” the guard responded.

“Oh no,” Zhou said. “Scribing reports in the dark, even by candle and lantern light, is bad for your eyes.”

Before the guard could say anything else the first returned, “Go in but don’t stay long.”

Zhou gave both guards a small bow and entered the great hall. At the far end two men stood at a table over-flowing with paper. A second table lay a little further away with a bottle of dark liquid and several glasses resting on it. The back wall of the room was covered by a large curtain on a raised dais and, at the highest point of the room, the duke’s throne. Zhou kept his head low as he walked towards the table, trying hard to contain the spirit as it bubbled upwards, the scent of its prey on the air.

“Just put them over there.” The commander spoke without looking up from his reading.

“Any news of,” the duke looked up from his own scroll and the words stuck in his throat.

Zhou dropped the scrolls, drew the short staff, charged forward and struck a clubbing blow at the nearest target. Commander Weyl was in the act of turning and rising when it caught  him at the juncture of neck and shoulder. His eyes, turned towards Zhou in surprise, clouded over and he toppled off the chair.

The duke backed up in one fluid leap, landing on the steps of the dais. Zhou stalked around the table to confront him.

“Well, well, well,” the duke smiled. “The diplomat. Have you come join the rest of the people of Wubei in death?”

Zhou let the contained spirit burst forth. Energy poured into every limb, and anger rose like magma from his stomach and drenching his mind in the searing heat of rage. He snarled, “I’ve come to kill you.”

“A
Wu?
” the duke’s eyes widened. “Well, well, this should be interesting.”