By the time Long arrived at “his” personal dining hall and dinner was served, it was indeed midnight and he was almost too tired to eat. His head hurt from listening to all the things the Emperor had to deal with. How could one man be responsible for so many details and decisions? There were advisors for everything from foreign trade to national taxation to daily menus for the Emperor’s four hundred personal servants. It was mind-boggling. He had a new respect for the Emperor.

“Had enough for one day?” Xie asked.

Long pushed his hood back and rubbed his forehead. “Please do not even joke about that. I don’t think I could have taken another meeting or advisor.”

“I am sorry to tell you, then, that we have one more meeting. You still have not met the head of security, my best childhood friend, Wuya.”

“His name is Crow? Was he ever a warrior monk?”

“No. Like me, he just happens to have a name from nature. Our families have a long history of friendship, and naming children in this manner is a unique habit we share.”

There was a knock at the door, and Long quickly flipped up his hood.

A servant stepped into the room and bowed toward Xie. “Security Chief Wuya is here.”

“Show him in,” Xie said, and he turned to Long and whispered, “Let us see how quickly he notices that you are not the Emperor.”

Long nodded and sat very straight, as though he were royalty. He adjusted the hood down well over his face and folded his hands within his long yellow robe sleeves.

Wuya entered the room, and Long saw how well his name suited him. He was tall and thin, with shiny black hair and a large, beaked nose. He stopped several paces from Long and bowed, staring straight at him.

Long grew uncomfortable. Every other advisor had followed tradition and only glanced at him indirectly. This man was scrutinizing him, for some reason.

“Welcome back, Your Eminence,” Wuya said.

Long nodded.

“I trust your trip was satisfactory?”

Long nodded again.

“I understand that your caravan approached Peking from the west. Forgive my saying so, Sire, but that is odd. You were expected from the south. You were also expected to be traveling with our new Southern Warlord, Tonglong. Is everything fine? Do I have reason to be alarmed?”

Long shook his head.

Wuya’s beady black eyes narrowed. “Which is it, Sire? Are you shaking your head in response to my first question, or my second?”

Long did not know what to do. He had not spoken all night, knowing that doing so would give him up as an impostor.

Xie clamped a hand on Wuya’s thin shoulder. “Wuya, old friend, we need to talk.”

Wuya shrugged Xie’s hand away. “I am speaking with the Emperor. You and I will talk soon enough.” He grabbed a small key ring tied to his sash and turned to Long. With an impressively quick flick of his wrist, Wuya flung the keys at Long’s face. Long barely had time to catch them before they struck his mouth.

Wuya squawked and pointed at Long, but spoke to Xie. “I knew it! Those are the hands of a boy, not a man. Remove your hood.”

Long did as he was told.

“Who are you?” Wuya asked.

“It is a long story,” Xie replied, looking suspiciously at Wuya. “Before I answer your question, though, I have one for you. You seem to have known from the moment you walked in here that this was not the Emperor. How?”

“You enter the Forbidden City with a child posing as the Emperor, and you want to question me about my suspicions? I am the head of security. It is my job to be suspicious. If you detected more suspicion than normal in this case, it was obviously warranted. Now tell me, who is he? What are you up to?”

“Have a seat, and I will tell you all about it. There is no need to be rude.”

“I will not have a seat!” Wuya said. “Where is the Emperor?”

“He has been kidnapped,” Xie replied.

“Kidnapped? By whom?”

“Tonglong.”

“The Emperor is traveling under Tonglong’s protection. There has been no kidnapping.”

Xie shook his head. “The Emperor is being held against his will and, last I saw, was being loaded into a pig crate.”

Wuya clenched his teeth. “Why would Tonglong do that?”

“He is power-hungry.”

Wuya’s tiny eyes blazed with fury. “Of course Tonglong is power-hungry. He is now the Southern Warlord. A person does not get to that level of leadership without being power-hungry. One might accuse you of having the same tendencies, Xie, seeing how you are now the Western Warlord.”

“Tonglong is different altogether from me, and you know it. I do not appreciate your implications.”




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