Under Heaven

choose amongst themselves which would torment the smug Kanlin Warrior he’d mistakenly hired at Iron Gate.

He’d arranged with the escort waiting outside the walls that he would call upon the prefect and the military governor—in that order—in the morning. They both wanted him tonight. He declined, politely.

Tonight was his own.

They were inside a city patrolled by soldiers, safe from roaming bandits—or spirit-world fox-women. He’d had Wei Song book the best available inn for the seven of them.

He’d also decided to keep the cavalrymen from Iron Gate. It was a small enough gesture of acknowledgement to Commander Lin, who had given him cash for the road, including the inn here, and what turned out to be a handsome room with a good-sized bed and sliding doors leading out to a garden.

Five guards from a border fortress were not going to link him too closely to the Second Military District when he got to the capital, but their presence with Tai might be of use to the commander who had assigned them.

There had been competing invitations from the welcoming party on the way into the city, to be the honoured house guest of both the men in power here: a competition that made it easier for Tai to take his own lodging. The governor was more powerful (they always were, these days) but the prefect had the title that signified in protocol, and Tai had studied in Xinan long enough to know how this matter needed to be dealt with, come morning.

THERE WERE GIRLS at his inn, of course, in a pavilion behind the first building, red lanterns hanging from the eaves there. One of the women, he noticed, when he strolled across the courtyard and looked in, was charming—or could that be due to his not having been close to a silk-clad woman in two years?

There was a pipa being played, and another girl with wide red sleeves was dancing. He stayed a few moments to watch in the doorway. But this was a comfortable inn, not the entertainment district, and Tai had been cheerfully advised by the escort sent out to meet him which of the courtesan houses was most likely to please a man of taste with some reserves of cash.

He left the inn to make his way there.

The night streets of Chenyao were crowded, lit by hanging lanterns on walls and carried by torches. That was something else he hadn’t experienced for a long time: men pushing the darkness back, so the nights might hold more than fear. He wouldn’t have denied feeling a measure of aroused anticipation.

In Xinan, nightfall marked the curfew, the city gates and those of each ward locked until the dawn drums, but this was a market town on the merchants’ road and rules were slack here, of necessity. Men, many of them foreigners, emerging from the hardship of the long passage around the deserts, would not readily submit to limits on their movements when they finally arrived at a civilized place, knowing their journey was over.

They’d pay their duties and taxes, submit to inspection of goods, bribe clerks—and the prefect—as required, but they wouldn’t stay in one place after dark.

There were enough soldiers in Chenyao, this close to the Taguran border, to ensure relative good order even if travellers were abroad at night. Tai saw clusters of soldiers here and there, but they looked relaxed, not oppressive. Moonlit carousing was encouraged here: men feasting and drinking spent money, left it in the city.

Tai was prepared to be one of those.

Music, graceful women dancing, good food and wine, and then a chosen girl, eyes dark with promise, the nearly forgotten scent of a woman, legs that could wrap themselves around him, a mouth and fingers skilled in provoking, in exploring … and a candlelit private room where he could begin to feel his way back into the world he’d left behind at Kuala Nor.

He was distracted, he would later decide, his thoughts running too far ahead through the noisy streets, or else he’d not have been so easily trapped.

He ought to have been alerted when the short laneway he turned down, following directions given, was suddenly not noisy, or thronged. He was alone, he realized.

Figures appeared at the head of the lane, blocking it.

There was no lantern at that end, it was hard to be sure of their number. Tai stopped, swearing under his breath. He looked quickly behind him. Was unsurprised to see more men at the lower end now, where he’d entered. Eight of them in all, he guessed. He was in the middle of an empty street. The doors of shops and houses on either side were, naturally, barred.

He had only one of his own swords. It was considered bad manners to carry double blades into a courtesan house, but it was also regarded as foolish to go unarmed through night streets in any city.

He might have been foolish just now. He drew his sword.

There were tactics prescribed on Stone Drum Mountain, early levels of teaching, for dealing with a challenge such as this. It was set as a formal lesson. One was unlikely to defeat or break free of eight men. Four was possible.

Tai drew two quick breaths and then sprinted forward, shouting at the top of his voice for the city guards. He heard a yell behind him, but he’d have a few moments with half of these men, whomever they were.

And he did, as it happened, know how to fight.

He hadn’t had much use for those skills in years, but the second son of General Shen Gao, trained by the Kanlin on their holy mountain, ran towards this new set of assassins with a rising, useful anger—he recognized it, let it surge, channelled it.

Sword extended, he whipped through a full, running circle as he neared them, to confuse, cause hesitation. He leaped at the last house wall on his right, driving himself with three or four short steps, running up the wall, and then he sprang back from it, flying above the heads of the men—three only, not four, which was good—and he stabbed one and slashed another with his first two airborne passes, the good blade cutting deep, both times.

He landed behind the one who remained. That man whipped around, lifting his sword to parry.

It was at that point Tai saw that the man wore a uniform—the colours of the army of the Second District. The same as his own five cavalrymen. These were the military guards he’d been shouting for. Tai froze, blade levelled.

“What is this?” he cried. “I am one of your officers! The commander at Iron Gate sent word of me!”

The second man he’d wounded moaned, lying in the muddy street.

The one still on his feet spoke rapidly, through shock and fear. “This is known! Your presence is required! It was judged you might decline to come. We were sent to ensure it happened.” He bowed, jerkily.

Tai heard a rustling sound. He looked up quickly, saw someone hurtling down from a rooftop, behind the four other soldiers who had rushed up from the far end of the lane. He made as urgent a decision as he had in a long time.

“Song, no! Wait! Leave them!”

Wei Song landed, rolled, and stood up. She hadn’t been going to a courtesan house: issues of courtesy had not applied. She drew both her swords from the scabbards behind her and extended them.

“Why?” was all she said.

Tai drew a steadying breath.

“Because there are twenty more soldiers here, not all of them incompetent, some with bows, and you are in a city I control.”

The voice was assured, and amused. It came from the square behind Tai. He turned, slowly.

There were half a dozen torches by a curtained sedan chair. The small square was otherwise empty, kept that way by soldiers at the edges, blocking each street. At least twenty men. The curtains of the litter were drawn back on this side, so that the man within might see what was happening—and be seen in the cast torchlight.

Tai still felt anger within himself, a hot stone. He was dealing with the sick sensation that could follow violence. The two men on the ground were silent now. He didn’t know if he’d killed them. The first one, probably, he thought. He walked slowly over to the sedan chair and the torches.

“Why have you done this?” he asked, his voice demanding, too arrogant. He was aware of the tone. He didn’t care. He was fairly sure who this was.

“You look like your father,” said the thin, very tall man in the litter, stepping out to stand gazing at Tai. He