The Stone Road (6 page)

“You needed to see our sacred cattle, Hsin?” Cheng asked, out of breath.

“Indeed, I did. Magnificent beasts. I had no idea that cattle were sacred to Yaart,” Hsin replied.

“We are a nation of the plains, we are cattle farmers by history and tradition. It makes sense, no?” Cheng said calmly, though his eyes darted around the field.

“I will tell you what makes sense and maybe Zhou will finally learn something.” Hsin turned to Cheng and the guards, “Your nation is in trouble. The tent city at the gates is full of refugees, starving ones at that. The first ones to reach the city were housed inside the walls but more and more came. If I had to guess, then I would say there was a disaster in the north, perhaps a flood of the Blue River. It is not unheard of. Indeed it is mentioned quite often in the histories and has always had implications for regions further away from the flood itself. The refugees need food and you have little left to feed them. They also brought with disease and illness them. The graveyards contain many fresh graves, my sources tell me. That is why you came to us for peace. You need time to secure your northern borders and you need troops to do it. Banditry and lawlessness will follow any crisis.”

Cheng looked shocked and fought to find words, “I... there is no... what I mean is...”

“Do not bother, Cheng. You have been outmanoeuvred here. Before we came, we sent our traders out by the long roads to gather knowledge and intelligence on the situation.” Hsin was taking to his task with undisguised glee. Zhou could see that the old man was enjoying his triumph. “They found out something interesting too. They found out that somehow, for some reason, you were buying up all the wheat and flour you could find at extortionate prices, even from the eastern kingdoms. Why were you doing that, and more to the point, how could you afford it, hmm?”

The guards looked at Cheng, worry was clear on their faces and Zhou could feel his heart beat faster. This would not end well, he thought. A tragic accident, two diplomats killed in a fall somewhere, apologies would be sent and the duke would send two more to fill their places. Peace was a great prize after thirty years. Neither the guards nor Cheng spoke.

“How could you afford it?” Hsin repeated, “Now we come to the most intriguing piece of the puzzle. War bankrupts countries, even after thirty years we are both struggling to pay for the conflict but now you, more than we, need money. I would imagine you are close to complete collapse, to total starvation and riots. Once that happens, we could just sweep in and take what we wanted. Where do you get the money?” Hsin began pacing, “And then, of all people, it is the blind idiot Zhou here that stumbles over it. These cattle, these sacred cattle. I don’t know what they are, a gift from the emperor’s sorcerers? An alchemist’s success? A freak of nature perhaps? The last remnants of the Jade herd? It doesn’t matter really. All that matters is that they are not normal beasts. Even though you have cleaned them up, and the field that they graze, you can see how heavy they are. How far their feet sink into the ground? Even now, there is evidence of their gifts to you.” Hsin pointed to the cattle.

Zhou struggled to see what Hsin was on about then, like the goose that laid the golden egg, one of the cattle excreted a hot, spitting, hissing, yellow syrup that puddled and pooled on the grass. There was total silence as the mess cooled and solidified into a misshapen golden lump.

Hsin’s face was a manic grin of victory and there was a look of desperation on Cheng’s. Strange as it seemed, and shocking, these magical cattle were alchemical factories turning grass into gold. An unlimited supply.

CHAPTER 8

Haung stood sweating in his guard uniform. Life as a
Jiin-Wei
had made him forget how heavy and uncomfortable all the armour was. The old diplomat, Hsin, was gloating over his discovery and Cheng was suitably shocked at it all.

“Honourable Hsin,” Cheng stammered, “I do not know what you hope to gain by these wild theories of yours.”

“Theories, pah.” The little diplomat from Wubei was grinning from ear to ear.

“Theories indeed. I assure you that there is nothing wrong with our northern borders or our food supply. The duke has simply decided that our conflict had reached a stalemate and was in danger of dragging on for many more years without resolution. It was a situation he felt was unacceptable and contacted the emperor for permission to sue for peace. That permission was given.”

“You are hiding behind words, my dear Cheng. The evidence is there for all to see. Even your own people have told us what is going on.” Hsin waved away Cheng’s words.

Haung stepped forward, judging this to be the right time, “Your eminence, I did warn you that these men were not permitted to come here and that they should be stopped.”

Cheng turned to him with a face creased in anger, “Guardsman Kang, you will be silent. I will handle this situation. You overstep your position.”

“Your guards knew we shouldn’t have seen this. It is the last piece in the puzzle, it tells me all I wish to know. When we meet to tomorrow, you will include these fantastical cattle in the negotiations. Wubei will have them or there will be no peace and Yaart can suffocate under the weight of its refugee crisis.” Hsin beckoned the younger diplomat to follow.

Haung watched them go. The younger one seemed to be arguing with the older. It looked quite heated. They had not gone far out of earshot when they stopped. Haung saw Hsin wave an angry finger at his aide, resulting in the aid stepping back and giving a forced, deep bow. Haung let a small smile pass across his face.

“It goes to plan then?” Cheng said with a slight tremor in his voice. “I did a good job of this?”

“Yes. You are performing admirably. I will inform the Commander of such. You have no need to concern yourself,” Haung said in response, he turned to his fellow
Jiin-Wei
. “Follow, don’t be seen, but make sure they get back safely.”

“I’m not worried for me,
Jiin-Wei
,” Cheng spoke harshly.

Haung turned a puzzled look on him, “I’m sorry?”

“When will the Commander let me see my wife again?” Cheng’s tone turned pleading and the words rushed out of his mouth in a torrent, “Is she ok? Has she given birth yet? Do I have a son or a daughter? She is due any day now. Please, can you tell me?”

Haung turned away from the cracks appearing in Cheng’s normally professional demeanour. Cheng grabbed his arm and Haung had to shake himself free. “I do not know. I will report your concerns to the Commander.”

He walked away quickly, fighting the urge to gag, sickened by Cheng’s actions and words. Back in his room, he stripped off the armour, grabbing a towel and a change of clothes he made his way to the bathing rooms. Even before he reached them, he could smell the incense and spices that the servants burnt on the sauna coals and he felt the knots in his shoulders loosen.

He chose the steam sauna room, the constant mist would hide him from view and the relaxing heat did not encourage conversation. He didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment. Sat in the ceramic tiled chairs, he let the heat invade every pore and each scented breath that inflated his lungs warmed his blood and his heart. Soon the cares of the day were forgotten and expunged with the sweat that began to roll off his body.

# # #

Two days after he submitted his written report, Haung was summoned to the Commander’s office.

“Haung, I have read the report. You have done a good job. The duke is pleased with the service the
Jiin-Wei
are providing for him.” The Commander smiled at him. “We should be nearing the end of this phase of our plan.”

“I am glad to have fulfilled my tasks, Commander,” Haung said, but held back the questions he wanted to ask.

“As you should be, as you should be.” The Commander picked up a small cup of wine and took a sip. “Now we have but small parts to play, Cheng will assist the Wubei closing the jaws around themselves. Tomorrow, I want you to meet the duke and escort him to the negotiating room. His appearance should seal the treaty. Dress in the guard uniform. Your presence should give that wizened devil Hsin all the backbone he needs. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir.” Haung bowed and then before he knew it followed up with, “About Cheng, Sir.”

The Commander, who had already returned to his reading, looked up. “Yes, what about him?”

“Sir.” Haung was searching through his mind for the right words to use. “After the Wubei left us in the garden he mentioned something, Sir.”

“Did he? You made only a brief reference in your report, Haung. Is it something we should know or worry about?” the Commander gave Haung a cold, blank stare.

“Well,” Haung could feel his confidence wriggling away from him like a slimy fish fresh from the river, “I only reported the facts, Sir.”

“Good, that is the way it should be. The negotiations are at a critical stage and Cheng is playing his part masterfully, your own report says so. I will repeat myself, just once, is there anything you want to tell me?” Haung detected a heavy emphasis on the word ‘want’ that tore the hook from the fishes mouth and sent it flapping across the ground towards the safety of the fast flowing river.

“No, Sir.” Haung bowed deeply whilst cursing himself for even mentioning anything.

“Good. Your training is paying off in many surprising ways, Haung. You are dismissed.” The Commander returned to his reading, one hand resting on the cup of wine.

# # #

As ordered, the next morning Haung arrived at the duke’s residence to be met by Marbu and Commander Weyl. They were coming out of the duke’s rooms with the Duke of Yaart himself. Haung had never been this close to the man in all the years he lived in the city and castle. Rising to over six feet in height, which was way above average for the people of Yaart, and dressed in deep blue silk with white fur trim, the duke was an imposing figure. Around his waist, a thick leather belt drew in the robe, emphasising his strong physique. A jewel hilted dagger rested in a sheath on the belt and both hands had a full complement of gemstone embedded rings. The last ornament was the thin gold circlet that prevented the Duke’s long dark hair from obscuring his face.

But more than that, there was an aura that reached out to Haung. At first, he felt it as a chill touch creeping across the skin of his arms and face, then as a sense of warmth and affection. He felt his eyes drawn to the duke’s, who was talking in quiet tones to the commander. Both Weyl and Marbu seemed to be similarly drawn to the ruler of Yaart. Their faces, normally cold, calculating and professional, were alive with warmth. Even Marbu was smiling as the duke spoke. Haung found it disquieting.

Mentally, he shook himself and ran through a few of the calming mantras the
Fang-shi
had taught him at the beginning of his
Jiin-Wei
training. As the duke approached, Haung built up a wall in his mind against his emotions, holding them back and keeping them under control. As he did so, the feelings of warmth and affection ebbed away.

“And this is
Jiin-Wei
Haung, your Lordship,” Weyl indicated. “Although just finishing his training, he has already proven to be a good and loyal asset.”

“I am glad.” The duke looked at Haung, into his eyes.

Haung could feel that something was expected of him and bowed deeply, as custom and politeness demanded. He spoke from the bowed position, “It is my honour to serve.”

“Commander Weyl tells me that you are to escort me to the negotiations and be part of the final act that seals the treaty we need so badly.” The duke’s voice was rich and warm. It flowed like warm honey over the walls that Haung had built and he could almost taste their sweet sincerity. He focused again on the walls he had built. “Rise,
Jiin-Wei
Haung.”

“Thank you, your Lordship,” Haung responded.

“Well, Commander, you seem to have chosen an interesting agent for this task. Most interesting,” the duke said.

“He will not let you down, your Lordship,” Weyl replied whilst, from the corner of his eye, Haung saw Marbu direct a sneer towards him.

Haung accompanied the duke to the negotiating room. They paused outside the door.

“Haung, I know
Jiin-Wei
are instructed in the hidden arts. Could you make it so that we can hear the discussion taking place? Putting cups to walls is very childish and lacks a certain flair.” The duke smiled at him.

Haung dipped a finger into the small jar of oil he carried on his belt and traced two symbols on the door and then, chanting quietly, touched himself and then the duke, respectfully, on their right ears.

“I will not budge.” Haung recognised Hsin’s weedy voice. “The cattle must be delivered to Wubei or no peace will be had. In a year’s time, by my reckoning, we will simply march in over the famine that is sure to follow.”

“Honoured Hsin,” Cheng’s stronger voice came through, “if it is as you say, then without our golden cattle we cannot hope to feed the people of Yaart. We gain nothing by giving them to you. Peace itself would not be enough. I am sure you can see that.”

“Master Hsin,” Haung took a moment to place the voice, it was the younger diplomat, “the cattle are not needed. We have enough for peace, which is our mission here. You threaten it with these demands. Cheng has outlined the duke’s position clearly. Please, Master.”

“Zhou, be quiet.” Hsin’s voice was waspish. “Haven’t you learnt your place yet.”

“Please, listen to him Venerable Hsin, we can have peace. All you need do is sign the treaty and the war can end. Both nations can rebuild.” Cheng’s voice again.

“Master, please. This is what we came here for. The terms are good and reasonable.” Zhou’s voice was pleading.

“Not a moment too soon or late.” The duke smiled and put a hand out to stop the
Jiin-Wei
from opening the door. “Patience, a few more turns of the screw, I think.”

“Zhou, you are a disgrace to Wubei and your family. We will have peace but on my, on our, terms. Cheng, include the cattle, they become Wubei property and you have your needed peace.” Hsin’s voice was now full of venom.

“Hsin, I cannot. I regret that we cannot have peace but, if that is to be then it is to be.” Cheng sounded resigned to fate.

“Don’t try that with me, Dishonourable Cheng,” Hsin cackled. “Such an obvious trick. Maybe Zhou here would fall for it but not I. You know I have studied the Yaart over the decades of this war. I wanted to find the weakness and now I have. Your country is doomed unless we have a treaty of peace, ratified by the emperor, only then can you be sure that we will not interfere with your re-building or your efforts to assist the victims of the disaster. The coming famine will be your end. Give me the cattle.”

“Hsin...” Haung heard both Cheng and the young Wubei diplomat speak at the same time.

“No. Zhou, you’ve lived a sheltered life. You haven’t lived with this war and felt its effects on the people. Your family have looked after you, bought you the training and education, the position you now hold. I had to work for it. Thirty years ago, I lived in one of those villages on the plain. A farmer, with a wife and child. And then, they came, riding behind clouds of dust and destroyed it all. I had to crawl from the wreckage and make my way to the city.”

“I’m sorry, but,” the young diplomat began.

“I don’t need your sorry or your pity, Zhou. I need those cattle, Cheng.” Hsin’s voice cracked on the last words.

“Hsin, I do not have the power to release those cattle.” Cheng tried to explain over the splutterings of the Senior Diplomat of Wubei. “They were never part of my remit to negotiate. Only the duke can make such a decision.”

“Then get him here.” Hsin’s clipped tones brought a smile to the duke’s face.

“Now, I think,” he said to Haung and waved him forward.

The door swung open and Haung walked into the room. All three negotiators froze in place, fingers raised in anger, mouths open, heated words on their tongues, and turned to look at the guard who had entered.

“My Lords, the Duke of Yaart,” Haung introduced.

The duke strode into the room and Haung watched him paint a look of shock and surprise on his face.

“What is this?” The duke spoke calmly and again Haung felt warmth and generosity flow from the duke. He rebuilt the calm wall in his mind and the feeling washed against it like a gentle river. “Gentlemen, I thought that you had reached an agreement on peace.”

“My Lord,” Cheng started, “we had. The agreements were all in place. All that is required is the signature of the representative of Wubei. But, I am sad to report that there is a problem.”

“Really?” responded the duke. “Surely one that can be easily overcome. Thirty years of war is a waste of our young men’s talents and lives. We must have peace.”