The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (116 page)

⁃
an excerpt from the journal of Kirin
Wynegarde-Grey

***

The army began to come through
at dawn.

In fact, it sounded like the
rumble of distant thunder, and their horses began snorting and pawing inside
the mine. It gave them time to rouse from their bedrolls and ready the horses,
for the plan was to ride out down the plateau and into the valley. Thousands of
mounted cats and monkeys would quickly overfill the mouth of the mine and
surrounding area. It remained to be seen how they would handle any conflict
with the local people once they came across a village. Kirin desperately hoped
there would be no more bloodshed but his heart was heavy inside him.

And so, as the army came like a
great undulating dragon, with spears and banners and plumes and swords, the
team went ahead of them led by Kaidan, the Shogun-General, the Ambassador, the
Major and the Magic. They were the head of this dragon now, its eyes, its ears,
its teeth, its breath of flame. First one hundred, then five hundred, then one,
three, five thousand. In fact, he couldn’t see the end of it if he turned in
his saddle, so he did not, merely kept his face forward watching for signs of
life or dogs, the army flanking him and following like a wave. The plateau
stretched out and down to a valley and the mountains rose up on both sides.
They were still the Great Mountains, that was obvious, but here in the Lower
Kingdom, it seemed her teeth were yellow, almost brittle, and her peaks were
streaked with snow. In fact, the wind bit like fangs as they rode and he hoped
the way would remain as level as it was now. Higher altitudes meant a narrow
line, and that was not a safe strategy for such a force. Wide, like a wall,
they could meet everything in their path with force.

There were wagons as well traveling
in the rear carrying supplies for such an army. Hunger, not cold, would be the
determining factor as food would be scarce during the harsh winter. A thousand
free horses could not be counted on to bring down enough game to feed six
thousand horses let alone their riders, and each man carried a basket of
barley, rice or millet, a portion to be mixed with snow overnight. By morning,
porridge would be filling, if not tasty. Kirin was hopeful the journey would be
a short one – they had eaten better for the entirety of the Year of the
Tiger, even in the Dry Provinces.

The free horses would also be
used to relieve others who would grow weary forging through drifts and over
rough terrain. Access to fresh horses meant better time but just arranging the
rotation of mounts would become complicated very soon. The complexities of such
a force were boggling. Winter was a bad time for many reasons.

Like him, the Magic was at the
fore, spread out with ten horses in between. Each one of them was fixed forward
in concentration, eyes glassy, faces like stone. None of them was ‘riding’,
merely passengers and Kirin was grateful for the dependability of the horses.
Young aSiffh was trotting freely at his side, tossing his head and snorting and
he remembered the first time he had ridden out into battle with alMassay. They
had both been so young.

There was the boom of an
Imperial cannon from the Wall so far behind them now, signaling the last of the
troops to pass through the mine. Kirin shook his head. Four hours from start to
finish. These were logistics he simply could not fathom and he needed to speak
at length with the Major. Stopping, starting, sleeping, even something as
simple as watering the horses when all the water was frozen. A small force was
practical and easy to lead. This force in this terrain, this was impossible.

He raised his fist over his head
and turned Shenan to face the sea of horses spread out all the way to the Wall.
All forward motion ceased but still, he needed to wait a lifetime before the
army came to a complete halt. He glanced at Bo Fujihara, and the small man
pulled his horse alongside. He took a deep breath and turned his eyes to the
Oracle, the girl sitting like a child on the back of an Imperial horse. He
nodded and she urged her mount forward until she too stood before the army and
he could feel tension roll like thunder from the sight of them, cat, monkey and
dog, united under the banners of both Upper and Eastern Kingdoms. He wondered
if the dogs had a banner of their own. He doubted it, doubted any of them could
even read.

He let his eyes sweep over the
sea of bodies before opening his mouth to speak.

“This is an historic time,” he
shouted, carefully and slowly, his voice echoing over the wind, words
translated by first Fujihara then Jalair Naransetseg, carrying on up the
mountain by lieutenants in both Imperial, Hanyin and
Chi’Chen
. There was
no one else to translate Dog. “A proud, turbulent and terrible time, a time
never before seen in the history of our Kingdoms. We have been called “The Army
of Blood” and that may be so, but men of the Kingdoms, we do not go to blood.
We do not go to war with the Lower Kingdom. We go to Peace.”

He paused, letting his words
carry forth before continuing. “We may be men of war but now, right now, we go
to Peace. We go to Unity. We go to Strength. If we fail in this, we will go to
Death. We go to Death and Diminishing and the Destruction of our way of life,
and not from the Dogs but from a people much older and more savage than they.”

There was no sound but the wind.

“The Ancestors are rising. The
Star announced it, the Magic has seen it, Kaidan has confirmed it. The
Ancestors, with their bloody weapons and their Ancient ways, will seek to rule
our peoples as they did in the beginning. There are those that might suggest
that this is acceptable, a Natural Order, the Way of Things…” He paused, took a
deep breath. “But I am not one of them.”

There was a murmur from the army
and the wind.

“We are a People. We are, in
fact, many people, and we have the right to govern ourselves, in our ways, by
ourselves and for ourselves. This journey is the first step in that pursuit, as
we must present a united front to ensure that even the least of us will remain
free to do so. This force, this ‘Army of Blood,’ is nothing if it is not
firstly an Army of Peace.”

He looked for and found the face
of the dog. He was standing on the ground near the Alchemist, unnatural brown
eyes locked with his own and he felt his heart lurch within him. They had
always been enemies. There had always been war. This was madness.

He looked away.

“Take a look to your left. Take
a look to your right. You might see the face of a cat. You might see the face
of a monkey. You may even be seeing the face of a dog. Whatever face you see,
it is the face of your brother, your sister, your friend. No one is better, no
one is less, and we need to believe it in our very bones. There will be
quarrels, there will be misunderstandings but we cannot allow them to rule us.
We will be sorely tested in these next weeks as the Rabbit leaps off the stage
and the Dragon shakes his head and gnashes his teeth. We need to be ready for
anything, for if we fail, we consign our children to servitude and slavery. I,
for one, do not wish that for our children.”

He felt golden eyes weighing
upon him. He did not look at them.

“Soon, the mountain will come
down and our way back will be barred. If any of you wish to return to your old
life, go in peace,
for
peace but go. Go and prepare your village for a
new way but go. If you stay, you will be charting that new way and a new
Kingdom where cat, monkey and dog are equal partners in its building. Equal in
every way to the Ancestors who will seek to rule us. I don’t know if this will
happen in my lifetime, in any of our lifetimes, but I do know that I, the very
first Shogun-General of the Fanxieng Dynasty, can do no less than try.”

Once again, there was no the
sound but the wind. His heart felt heavy. It was possible, probable even, that
most of these soldiers were here for war. Even their name – the Army of
Blood – promised it. To leave homes, families and commissions for the
vague and untenable notion of peace was unexpected at best, disappointing at
worst. There was no way to convince them.

Finally, there was the sound of
slow, deliberate clapping. Kirin looked and was not surprised to see Sireth
benAramis from the back of his horse, smiling in the all-knowing way of his.
The tigress joined him and then Bo Fujihara, but in the way of monkeys, with
raised arms and snapping fingers and shouting. Very quickly, all the
Chi’Chen
army joined in until the valley echoed like a nightmare, hooting and snapping
and whistling, but it was the
Chi’Chen
army, not the cats. On this
matter, the army of the Upper Kingdom was strangely silent.

He looked at his brother, grey
ghost and miracle worker, on the back of the little mountain pony. If there was
anyone who embodied this very dream, it was Kaidan.

“They won’t leave,” said Kerris.
“No matter what they think of this plan, they won’t leave.”

“It won’t be enough.”

“It will have to be, Kirin. The
rocks are going home.”

And Kerris turned his face to
the mountain. With a roar that sent clouds into the sky, the mouth of the mine
closed on itself like an earthstorm, sealing their fate and setting them on
their path. Three days they had been given. Now, they were committed. For good
or for ill, he thought grimly, they were committed.

He turned his horse and headed
out.

The Eye of the Needle

“I did tell you to sit down,”
said Damaris Ward.

Jeffery Solomon glared at her
as the Maglar rolled through the underground. The Plug had done an efficient
job at translating their language but the frequency had been unexpected and he
was still struggling with nausea.

“So they’re not dead?” he
said. “You’re sure about that.”

“The Jiānkeeper said the
male was in the Compound and the female was in the lab.” She eyed him from
across the car. “Why the hell are you traveling with monsters, Super 7?”

“It’s Jeffery and they’re not
monsters. I keep telling you.”

“It’s been a long time since
you went down, Jeffery 7. The world has changed.”

“Not so much, I think.”

Solomon, Ward and two guards
were traveling in a Maglar from the medical wing of the DC compound to a
communications wing. It had the look of an underground system but he couldn’t
be sure. Windows were dark, revealing again the bronzing of an old ArcEye and
he remembered traveling through Brussels before he went under, how the ArcEyes
varied from green hills, blue skies and vineyards to seasides, forests and
mountains. Those were much better, he thought. Dark windows looked like empty
eyes, made him feel lost and sad.

“I’m using up valuable comm
time for you,” she said. “I had to trade it for something and your monsters are
it.”

“So they’re on display?”

“Only the grey.

His stomach lurched as the
Mag took a bump in the track and he shook his head.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you treat them
differently than me? They’re people. Okay, cat people, true enough, but
still...”

She leaned forward, clasped
her hands between her knees. Her eyes were dark and shone with intelligence.

“Everything, every living
thing in this world will try to kill you, Jeffery 7. We are no longer the
dominant species on this planet. The contagions that have developed can turn a
normal man or woman into a cannibalistic monster within weeks. You do not go
outside without a C-FAS and even then, you do not go beyond the fence. It’s
madness.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do.”

“Damaris, I’ve been outside in
Europe for almost a year and I’m still alive. I’ve been walking your seaboard
for days since you blew up my ship, hunting the quail and the turkeys and the
rabbits. I’m still alive and after tasting that turkey roasted over an open
fire, nowhere near as cannibalistic as I may look.”

He could have sworn she
smiled but she had looked away so he couldn’t tell. It was hard to guess her
age, whether she was older than him or life in this new world had conspired to
make her strong and hard. Wrinkles at the corners of her eyes said laughter,
lines at the corner of her mouth said resolve.

She turned back to him.
 

“Maybe you’re immune.”

“And maybe you’re wrong.”

“It’s bad for a Security
Chief to be wrong. People die.”

“It’s bad for scientists to
be wrong too, but you know what? The world goes on.”

Again, he thought she smiled.
She was a smart cookie, no doubt.

He sat back, sighed.

“So who are we going to talk
to, then?”

“I’ve asked CommWing to patch
us into the Shield.”

“The Shield?”

“Slabtu,” she said. “CanShield
North.”

“Slabtu.” It took a moment.
“Sleep Lab Two?”

His heart thudded inside his
chest.

“Si, Jeffery 7.”

“Just Jeffery, or Jeff.”

She leaned back and folded
her arms across her chest, raised a tattooed brow.

“Jeff 7.”

He tried to smile but
couldn’t and wondered what kind of world those ArcEyes were hiding behind their
sad, bronzed glass.

***

It was late when they came to
the village of Lon’Gaar.

Earlier, a cry had gone up and
they had seen the shape of a boy sprint along a path that might have been a rocky
stream in summer. The boy quickly disappeared but the tracks he left in the
snow were easily followed and it was clear that he had not been alone. Still,
they saw no others for the rest of the day. The stream had narrowed and grown
steep with mountains and they were forced to ride no more than ten abreast
along some areas. Traveling six thousand deep would become dangerous soon
enough.

Finally, as they were losing the
light of the winter sun, they came upon another plateau and a circle of the low
round tents called gars. On the edge of the village, other tents with the hides
of yak and goat hanging from poles. But there was no woodsmoke, there were no
people. The entire village of Lon’Gaar was abandoned.

The army split like a river into
three forks, two to flow around and one to flow through. Kirin led the center
fork, making sure he had Bo Fujihara on one side of him and the dogs on the
other. When he reached the center of the village, he raised his gloved hand,
bringing the army to a slow, rippling stop. As the horses circled the village
one hundred then one thousand fold, they waited, eyes sharp, ears straining.
They heard nothing, no shouting, no drums, no deadly whistling arrows. Kirin
glanced down at the male dog, tried to remember his name.

“Rani,” said the Oracle. “His
name Rani.”

The dog growled but, to his
credit, looked up.

“Where would they go?” asked
Kirin and the girl translated. The dog growled again, flattened his ears to his
skull but answered in his guttural language. The girl translated once more.

“Into mountains,” she said. “Or
to next village. North.”

“Can you guess how many soldiers
were in the Legion following you?”

She bit her lip. “Six tens?
Maybe?”

“We counted forty-one bodies,”
said the Major from her horse. “That leaves almost twenty unaccounted for.”

“They are with the villagers,”
said Bo and he puffed on his pipe. “It makes sense.”

“It makes them dangerous,” said
the Major. “I can take a party and hunt them down.”

“No,” said Kirin. “Let them run.
They will find the Khan’s army and tell him of our strength. It may make him
think twice before committing his army to a war they cannot win.”

He could feel his people move
their horses toward him, his brother and the tigress, the Seer and the jaguar.
And, of course, the Alchemist. He still could not bring himself to look at her.

“We will camp here for the
night,” he said and raised his voice to be heard by every man in the Army of
Blood. “There are blankets and skins here, perhaps some food. Take what you
need. Leave nothing of value. Use everything.”

“Hardly an act of peace,
Captain,” said the Seer.

“Shogun-General,”
growled
his wife.

“My mistake.”

Kirin shook his head.

“These people are gone. They
will not miss what they have left behind.”

 
“An army is only as strong as its stomach,” said Fujihara.
“Beyond all things, it will be hunger that will make or break our journey.”

“It’s true,” said Yahn Nevye
from the back of his horse. “And a soldier can chew on a scrap of hide for
hours, dulling his hunger and filling his belly. For a very short time but
still.”

They all looked at him.

“I…I, I heard that somewhere.”

“Idiot,” growled the Major.”

“There are many hides,” said
Kirin. “We will take what we need.”

He looked at Ursa. “Have the
wagons distribute rations to the soldiers. Release the free horses, have them
hunt and bring back what they can.”

“They can hunt the dogs,” she
grinned.

“No!” gasped Setse.

Kirin shook his head. “By
morning, we will have taken everything. Then we will move on.”

“Sir.” Ursa wheeled on her horse
and was gone.

“No hunt dogs!” moaned Setse and
she glanced at the cats surrounding her.

“No hunt dogs, little sister,”
purred Sherah al Shiva. “I will make tea.”

And they began dismounting their
horses in the village of Lon’Gaar.

***

It had taken them many days and cost
them many soldiers, but finally, they had passed through the cliffs of KhunLun
and entered the vast high plateau region known as Tevd. Tevd, the Cradle of the
Moon. Wide, rocky and surrounded on all sides by mountains, Tevd was dry, cold
and surprisingly free of snow. Perhaps the wind was too strong, perhaps the air
too dry, for it seemed only in crevasses the snow stayed. The Plateau of Tevd
was a sacred place, a holy place, where the world was born and old men came to
die.

They had made the village of
Jia’Khan, more than half of the moon-long run to Lon’Gaar and the Wall of the
Enemy. The village was overjoyed to be witness to the Khargan’s Ten Thousand,
even more to be host. The Khan had decreed a rest and yaks, reindeer and goats
were slaughtered for a feast that would last three days. Children sang songs of
victory and women were demonstrative with their pride. To bed a soldier in the
Khargan’s army would be advantageous for any woman and any child conceived
during such a feast would be honoured in the village for a lifetime.

They sat in the gar for the
night was bitterly cold, the Bear running a stone along the massive blade known
as
ala’Asalan
, or Killer of Lions. It was as long as the Bear was tall,
made of black iron and hooked on one end. Long-Swift had seen that blade tear
out the insides of many a man, some lions. Most men couldn’t lift it without
strain. When he wasn’t using it, the Khargan wore it strapped across his back
like a bow. It made his back very strong.

“Why don’t you go take a woman?”
asked the Bear, not looking up from his sharpening. “You are Irh-Khan. You can
choose from any woman in the village. It would be her glory and your pleasure.”

Long-Swift stared into the
flames and smiled. It was a small fire, just a few coals and some sticks. Not
enough to keep warm – the packed snow did that well enough but it did
cause light to dance around the inside of the gar. Even for the Khargan, there
was little extravagance. A hide for sleeping that wrapped
ala’Asalan
during the run, a horn of wotchka, a pipe. His armour lay to the side –
the skulls and claws, the one-armed leather coat and mail cuirass, the braces
and hide-bound boots next to the
kushagamak,
the lethal dual
hook-and-chain
weapon
of the Khans. Sitting, disarmed like this in a simple woolen undershirt and
trousers, the Bear almost looked like a common man. If one did not look at his
size. If one did not look at the scars.

“What?” the Khargan grunted and
now he did look up. “You don’t need a woman? Long-Swift the
Sekond
is
now Long-Swift the Celibate?”

“I am hearing talk in the
ranks,” the Irh-Khan said. “About the strength and power of the Army of Blood.”

“Tell me.”

“It is said that they have
assembled a force of over five thousand cats and monkeys.”

The Bear spat on the ground. “Pah.
We have twice that.”

“They have horses.”

A growl now. It was a well-known
fact that not even the Khargan’s Legions could stand against a rush of Imperial
horses.

“That is not all,” Long-Swift
continued. “They have magic.”

“Magic?”

“More than Oracles, Lord.
Alchemists and Elementals. A runner from Lon’Gaar even witnessed the lightning
bending in the sky to destroy the camp.”

“Big stories,” grunted the Bear.
“From little townspeople.”

“Still,” said Long-Swift. “Is it
not worth sifting the bag of sand for a single grain of wheat?”

The Bear grunted again, bent
back to his sword. “You are not helping me, Long-Swift.”

“Well,” the Irh-Khan reached for
the horn, breathed in the wotchka’s rich, sweet smell. “I hear many things with
my ears uncropped, Lord.”

“Hah. Tell me.”

“The villagers talk of an Oracle
on the Plains of Tevd.”

“An Oracle?”

“Yes. The Eyes of Jia’Khan,
called
Edinae Tebchech.”

The stone paused on the blade
and the Bear stared at him. “Eye of the Needle?”

“And
Edinae Buran.”

“Eye of the Storm? Which is it?”

“Both.”

“This Oracle has two names?”

“Yes.”

“Strange.”

“It is stranger still, Lord.
This oracle prophesies for the villagers and they must pay him in eyes.”

“Eyes?” The Bear blinked slowly.
“He accepts payment from these villagers…in eyes?”

“In eyes.” The Irh-Khan arched
his brow, raised the wotchka to his lips. “And he is bigger than you.”

The fire crackled. The wind
outside the gar howled. There were the sounds of people in the village, the
singing of the children, the crowing of women, the drinking of the Ten Thousand
but all sounds were drowned as suddenly the Khargan threw back his head and
laughed. He laughed so that he was made to lay
ala’Asalan
down into the
snow. He laughed until tears sprang from his lashes and made rivers down his cheeks.

“He is bigger than me?”

“Much bigger.”

More laughing and Long-Swift
could well imagine the ten thousand soldiers outside the gar, glancing about at
the sound of the Khan of Khans laughing. There had been a time when it had been
a common thing but not any more. Life had hardened them all.

“Ah, what a wonderful thought,”
said the Bear as his laughter died and he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I
think I very much like this Oracle. I will enjoy killing him.”