Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1)

Morning wore into day while I spoke, and day into early evening. Three more times, Imperial couriers passed us by, dashing to and fro on the road. None of them paid us any heed. By the time we halted for the night, I'd talked myself hoarse once more, and I'd ceased to flinch at the sight of the Emperor's insignia.

Bao poked his head in the window. "We're going to make camp. Is that all right, my lady?"

The princess inclined her head. "It is."

"Moirin?" His voice softened. "Is all well?"

I raised my veil and smiled at him, resisting the urge to rub his stubbled scalp. "Aye. And with you?"

He grinned. "Ten Tigers Dai is complaining of blisters, being unaccustomed to walking for any length of time, especially in sandals. Tortoise's belly is growling with hunger because he is unaccustomed to going without food for more than two hours. Both of them are angry that Kang is skilled at driving the carriage. Master Lo and I are fine." He raised his begging bowl, jingling it. His dark eyes gleamed beneath strongly etched brows. "Got some alms, too. Pretty good plan, huh?"

"Pretty good," I agreed. We smiled foolishly at one another until the dragon rumbled in my thoughts and the princess stirred uneasily. I raised my eyebrows at him and jerked my chin in a significant manner, and Bao withdrew in haste.

"He's a bit like a warrior-priest, I suppose," Snow Tiger said dubiously. "At least in guise."

Tired, I stifled a yawn. "Only in guise, my lady. In other ways, Bao is quite impossible. I have no idea why I like him so."

"And yet you do," she observed. "True."

With permission from a nearby farmstead, we made camp under a stand of pine trees. The farmer's wife, shy and blushing, brought a tray of steamed dumplings out to us. I watched Master Lo charm her effortlessly while Bao instructed the others in the manner of setting up the cunningly crafted tent of oiled silk and bamboo we'd brought to shelter the princess. The men would sleep in the open like the humble monks they pretended to be.

I heard the farmer's wife inquire tentatively after the purpose of our journey and tensed as Master Lo began to explain that the Lady Chan Song was on a pilgrimage to offer prayers to a very famous effigy of Guanyin in the south—Guanyin of a Thousand Eyes, who had appeared to Lady Chan in a dream and promised to cure the blindness that afflicted her. We had concocted the tale to justify our general destination and explain the impenetrable veil the princess wore, but hearing it told to a stranger for the first time, it sounded a feeble lie to my ears.

But once again, my fear was mislaid. The farmer's wife merely nodded in understanding. Casting a sympathetic glance in Snow Tiger's direction, she whispered a promise to pray for her. With that, she left us.

Despite the initial success of our venture, it was a relief to be away from prying eyes. I removed my hat and veil, breathing deeply of the pine-scented air and listening to their vibrant, healthy thoughts. The princess removed her hat, too, tying the blindfold she preferred in place. Master Lo sat in quiet contemplation while the younger men argued over the best way to prepare our meal.

"I have cooked for Master Lo ten thousand times!" Bao's tone was aggrieved. "I know how he likes his meals!"

"It is not only Master Lo Feng we cook for tonight, Shangun," Tortoise said in a placating manner. "You use too much ginger root, too much garlic. It is too much yang for the Noble….. for Lady Chan. My father was a cook. I know."

"He's right, Shangun," Ten Tigers Dai said mildly. "Less garlic, more bean curd."

I stole a glance at Snow Tiger and found her smiling. "Do I hear your hardened thugs quarrelling over the best way to prepare my dinner?" she inquired.

"You do, my lady."

"How very strange my life has become." For the first time, she sounded more bemused than disturbed by the notion.

Whether or not the balance of yin and yang in the resulting dish of noodles and broth was a harmonious one, I couldn't have said, but it was good. It made me laugh to see the hungry stick-fighters looking surreptitiously at the princess, waiting for her approval before eating. To her credit, she was gracious with them. Bit by bit, they began to ease in her presence.

Afterward, they indulged in a bout of sparring. It seemed strange to me that monks travelling a path toward enlightenment would engage in such a violent practice, but Master Lo assured me that it was not uncommon.

"It is a useful method for focusing mind and body and spirit." His eyes twinkled. "I think you do not come from a meditative folk, Moirin."

"Not in the way you have taught me," I agreed. "And yet….." I thought about my childhood, filled with endless days of solitude and wilderness, and the simple pleasure it had brought me. "The Maghuin Dhonn live very close to nature, Master. In a way, it is a kind of meditation unto itself."

Master Lo inclined his head. "I do not speak against your truth. Many of the greatest sages of the Way have found wisdom and enlightenment in returning to a lifestyle your people never left."

Listening to the sounds of staves clattering, the princess fingered her sheathed blade and looked wistful. "Would that I could take part in their practice."

"Can you fight without eyes to see?" Master Lo asked. She nodded. "Then why not?" He glanced around. "Dusk comes soon. Beyond this copse, the trees block the view from the farmhouse. The roads and fields are empty. There is no one to see."

Her blindfolded face turned toward him. "Are you certain?"

"Of course." He raised his voice. "Bao! I have a task for you, my magpie!" He waited while Bao left off coaching Dai and came over. "The princess wishes to spar."

Bao pursed his lips, glancing at her. "Is that wise, my lady?"

Her hands shifted on the scabbard, gripping it as though it were a short staff. "I will not draw steel." A bright edge crept into her voice. "Are you afraid?"

He began to scoff, turning it into a circumspect cough instead. "On the one hand, I am concerned that the glorious and celestial entity whose spirit is housed within you does not wish me well." His tone took on a smooth answering edge. "And on the other hand, if the dragon restrains himself, I fear I might injure you, since your sight is compromised."

Snow Tiger did scoff. It seemed insolence in fighters was a thing to be tolerated. "As for the latter, I assure you, there is no need to fear. As to the former….. Moirin? Will you speak to the dragon?"

I sighed. "You're not to harm Bao. Let her highness fight her own fight. This is only for sport, for play. Do you understand?"

Yes. The dragon sounded offended.I am not foolish. I know he is an ally. It is only that I do not like the way he looks at you. She needs you much more than he does.

Whether or not the princess heard him, I declined to translate the last part. "He says he understands."

With dusk beginning to fall over the recently harvested field, Snow Tiger paced off a rectangle on the far side of the pine trees, marking the corners with a thrust of her scabbard. "These are the dimensions of my living quarters," she said to Bao. "I know them well. Remain within them and I promise there will be no question of compromise."

He bowed, bringing his staff to a horizontal position. "As my lady wishes."

I'd caught a glimpse of the potential grace and beauty inherent in the sport when Bao fought Dai.

This was on another level altogether.

To be sure, they were unevenly matched. With her dragon-possessed strength, the princess could have shattered Bao's longer staff with a single full-force blow. But nor had she reckoned on his acrobatic skill. Quick and precise though she was, he could easily have taken greater advantage than he did of her sightlessness.

Back and forth they went, weapons a blur, the resulting clatter faster and more staccato than I'd ever heard. Within seconds, Bao's battle-grin had emerged. He pressed her hard, vaulting effortlessly over her and letting her know with an impudent tap he could strike her from behind if he wanted. Snow Tiger didn't smile, but her expression took on a fierce brightness that echoed his. Her green robes flared as she whirled and spun, glowing an unearthly emerald in the fading sun. She pressed him, too. When they locked staff and scabbard, she pushed hard enough to let him know she could break it.

The other stick-fighters gathered to watch in awe.

In an odd way, I was jealous, reminded of the feeling I'd had watching Raphael and Jehanne together after I'd bedded them both. At the same time, it made me happy to see them both so glad.

My life, too, was passing strange.

By mutual accord, they left off, both breathing hard. Snow Tiger inclined her blindfolded head to Bao. "You are skilled indeed. Thank you."

He bowed. "It was an honor, my lady."

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Thus began the pattern of our days on the road. Imperial couriers raced to and fro, passing us coming and going. Betimes they stopped to make inquiries of Master Lo or one of the others; betimes they passed us without a flicker of interest. Impossibly and consistently, they paid not the slightest heed to the veiled Lady Chan Song and her veiled maidservant. Merchants and other travellers paused to exchange gossip, and betimes offer alms in exchange for blessings.

None of them were interested in Lady Chan and her maid, either.

During the day, I endured the carriage and did my best to entertain the princess with tales. Our company begged and bartered for food, making camp on the outskirts of friendly farmsteads. In the evenings, the stick-fighters honed their skills, the blindfolded princess sparring among them.

They warmed to her.

It wasn't that their sense of awe at her presence among us was diminished, but it thawed considerably, turning into a complex mix that encompassed admiration, pride, and a possessive protectiveness.

Of me, they remained wary.

Betimes, it frustrated me. "Why?" I demanded of Bao. I gestured at the princess, who was talking with a tongue-tied but delighted Ten Tigers Dai. "Truly, am I more unnerving than her?"

"Yes." His hand slid down my spine to settle in the small of my back, pulling me to him, my hips pressing against his. It felt good. I acceded willingly, gazing up at his face. "Moirin, if we succeed, the princess and the dragon will be parted. He will be free in all his celestial glory. She will be human once more—the daughter of the Son of Heaven, yes, but a woman of Ch'in nonetheless." His lips brushed mine, defying the customary prohibition against such public displays. "You will still be you. A witch, and a foreigner."

"Which doesn't seem to bother you," I commented.

"I may have exaggerated your perils," Bao admitted. "But it is better for your safety that the others remain fearful of your reputation." His eyes glinted with amusement. "Are you angry?"

"Yes." I kissed him. "No. Maybe."

The dragon rumbled.

Master Lo Feng cleared his throat.

With reluctance, Bao let me go. "When this is over—"

"When it is over we will talk," I said firmly. "About this and fat babies and many other things. Assuming we live through it."

"There is always that," he agreed. "And hopefully we will do much more than talk."

A week into our journey, the mood of the Imperial couriers who hurtled past us on the road changed. No longer did they pause to ask questions, and a new pennant flew from the standards affixed to their saddles beneath the Imperial insignia: a crimson banner.

The first time one passed, a wave of cries trailed in its wake. Beside me, the princess tensed. "What is it?"

I shook my head. "I've no idea, my lady."

"War!" Bao's face appeared in the window, exultant. "His Celestial Majesty's riders are flying the red banner of war!"

"He's done it," Snow Tiger breathed. A ripple of relief ran through her; for a moment, she buried her veiled face in her hands. "Ah, gods be thanked! Mayhap there is a greater purpose in this."

"It must have been a powerful letter you left for him," I said.

"Yes."

I thought she would say more, but she didn't, not then. Not until later, long after we had made camp for the night, long after the simple supper and sparring, when she and I had retired to our tent of oiled silk. I was nearly asleep when her voice floated in the darkness, hushed and disembodied.

"I said many things in the letter I wrote," the princess whispered. "I begged my father to put his faith in his bravery and wisdom, not his doubts. I assured him that he had not lost the Mandate of Heaven, that he could lose it only through inaction. I told him that this was the battle he was born to fight, the battle of a lifetime, ten lifetimes. And….."

"Aye?" I propped myself on one arm.

"I said that I would fight it if he did not," she murmured. "That once the dragon and I were freed from the curse Black Sleeve laid upon us, I would raise an army to confront Lord Jiang and his vile sorcerer. And that if my Noble Father had failed to stand by me, I would consider myself an orphan and the rightful heir to the Mandate of Heaven."

I caught my breath, aware of exactly how grave an offense this was for a dutiful Ch'in princess. "A dire threat, my lady."

"Yes." A rueful note crept into her voice. "But a necessary one. They tell me my mother was unafraid to cross him at times, and he loved her better for it. It seems there is a certain fondness for insolence in our lineage."

I reached out one hand in the darkness between our pallets. "I'm sorry. I cannot imagine how difficult it was for you to do such a thing."