Battle Magic

The gong was rattling again. The eunuch who had announced the general came forward to proclaim that an imperial courier had come. This person trotted over to the area on the far side of the dais where the emperor conferred with his general.

Parahan was telling the three of them about the different treasure chambers of the palace when the Master of Presentations found them.

“The Son of the Gods, Light of the Heavens, Glory of His Dynasty, His Imperial Majesty has asked me to say that he must end your audience. The business of the empire calls him away. You should be honored that he deigns to share his reasons with you. He does not explain himself to many. Now come with me.” The Master walked away, leaving them no time for polite farewells to Parahan.

Briar knew that Rosethorn would be as aware as he was that they were being steered away from the rest of the imperial court and any other foreigners who were present. Briar had hoped to glean some information on the emperor’s plans for Gyongxe, if any, for the God-King, but that would be impossible if the emperor’s people kept them buttoned up this way throughout their visit. He also would have liked to examine the many flowering plants set throughout the room. Instead the Master of Presentations shooed them through a side entrance Briar had not noticed before. They were outside; their palanquins waited there on a small side road. No slow walk through a corridor meant to overwhelm visitors! Briar thought cynically. Now they just want to rush us back to our pavilion before we can talk to anyone. But why?

The Master of Presentations didn’t even wait to see them off.

THE IMPERIAL GARDENS

THE WINTER PALACE

DOHAN IN YANJING

Slowly Evvy drifted to the end of the procession that followed Emperor Weishu, Rosethorn, and Briar through the series of gardens they had entered shortly after dawn that morning. She was starved. In their rush to watch everything bloom, or whatever reason they had chosen for getting out of bed at this hour, they had not stopped for breakfast. Also, she was bored. The servants wouldn’t let her touch the ornamental rocks on the walkway borders and the odd decorations within the gardens. Other than those, Evvy could see no stones anywhere. It was hard to believe that they had all been dug up and carted away, but she felt nothing other than the border stones within a couple of feet of the surface. So where were they?

She was so busy pouting that she didn’t realize someone was behind her until his hand touched her shoulder. Startled, she jumped with a squeak.

“Easy, easy,” Parahan said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you!” He was dressed just as he’d been dressed the night before, in the very loose, loincloth-like garment that seemed to be all the emperor would allow him. He still wore chains, too. They hadn’t even given him shoes. Drops of water shone in his short hair and on his scarred shoulders.

“Are all those from fighting?” she asked, pointing to his scars.

“No, my mother gave me my shoulders,” he said. “Silly, if they look like cuts, of course they’re from fighting. I was leading soldiers from the time I was fourteen. I bet you’re hungry.”

“They didn’t give us time to eat this morning,” Evvy complained.

“Come on. I’m hungry, too.” Parahan put his finger to his lips and steered Evvy down a side path. Two of the guards from the entourage broke off to accompany them.

Evvy spun and glared at them. Parahan turned her back around. “Don’t blame them. I have to have guards whenever I’m off my leash,” he told her. “Weishu likes me too much to let me escape, though how far I would get in these chains, I can’t imagine. I doubt there are many smiths who would take them off or pick the locks. And the palace gardens may be huge, but the wall around them is quite high and well guarded by magic and by soldiers.”

Evvy’s heart sank. “If he really liked you, he’d give you an army so you could go home and kick your uncle all the way to Namorn,” Evvy replied.

“Now you sound like my sister. Weishu likes to dangle me over my uncle’s head,” Parahan explained. “Right now my father lives. One messenger from the emperor, and my uncle dies. So long as my uncle sends gold, opium, and jewels to the emperor, he is safe. When my father dies, if my uncle does not continue his tribute to the emperor, he knows the emperor will send me home, with an army. So I am the emperor’s most rewarding toy.”

“That would make me angry,” Evvy informed Parahan.

“You’re free,” he replied. “You can afford anger. Besides, I hear many interesting things at the emperor’s feet. My father always complained that I spent all my time in school joking around. He would be very pleased if he knew how much I was learning now.”

The walkway he’d chosen led through a bamboo grove to the banks of a bubbling creek. They crossed on a high, arched bridge carved and decorated as all Yanjingyi bridges were, following the path to an ancient oak grove. They stopped at the foot of a black-barked ancient tree with branches so heavy some of them bowed to touch the ground before they arched up again.

“Oh, that’s better!” Evvy said. Dropping to her knees, she set her palms against two of the lumps of red and yellow sandstone clutched tight by the oak’s exposed roots. “What have the gardeners here got against rocks, anyway?”

“Don’t blame them.” Parahan stretched out on a length of mossy ground that was clear of rocks and roots. The guards sat on their heels a few feet from them. One took out a dice box and they began to play. “It isn’t the gardeners, but the imperial will. Unless the garden is supposed to be a little picture of a place, with bridges, a stream, small trees, rocks, and so on, the emperor wants each garden to be absolutely tidy. There can’t be anything to distract from the flowers. Not weeds, not insects, not stones. It’s a sad gardener who doesn’t remove everything but the proper plant.”