Chasing the Phoenix (43 page)

“Shall I write you a pass?” Surplus asked.

“I have a force of two hundred soldiers. No sentry will dare attempt to hinder us.”

“And your father?” Darger said. “How will he feel about your marrying a commoner?”

“I respect my father and will obey him in all things save this one. Also, he loves me and wants me to be happy. So he will put up with it, I suspect. Particularly since we will soon, as you advised, be providing him with a grandson.”

“At any rate, we are going,” White Squall said. She looked happier than Darger had ever seen her—and there had been times, he could not help but reflect, when he had made her very happy indeed. “My machines are gone, and whichever way the battle goes tomorrow, I am no longer needed here. So I am going home to a city I have never seen. To Gold, in the province of Southern Gate.”

“Are there enough archaeological sites there to hold your interest, after all you have experienced and all you have achieved?” Surplus asked.

“I am giving up archaeology for history. I shall write an account of all that has happened in this strange war so that future ages may be guided by our mistakes.”

“You could call it
Glorious History of the Hidden Emperor,
” Darger suggested.

“I was thinking of
The Book of the Two Rogues
. But your idea has merit, too. I may put together a collection of your colorful aphorisms as well.”

*   *   *

DARGER AND
Surplus were up half the night, sending and receiving messages, rehearsing Capable Servant in what was expected of him, and in other ways preparing for the battle. Until at last there was nothing constructive left to be done and they both decided to catch a few hours of sleep. Because there was only the one cot, Surplus slept in a bedroll by the door.

Thus it was that shortly before dawn he was the first to hear hooves and wooden wheels outside. He emerged from the tent to discover the Dog Pack, with wagons and donkeys they had surely obtained by no honest means, looking as if they were prepared for a long journey.

Mountain horses stamped and harness fittings jingled. All the Dog Pack was gathered, dressed in civilian clothing. The wagons were fully loaded with food and kegs of water, as well as bundles and caskets that must surely contain pelf that was only by the loosest of definitions theirs.

“What's all this about?” Surplus asked.

“We are going back home to Peace,” Fire Orchid said. “The family owns a great deal of valuable land there, and I have bad feelings about the city of North. I think you are trying to steal something far too big and valuable for unimportant people like us.”

“I am sorry,” Vicious Brute said. “Very truly I am. All of us in the family genuinely like you. I greatly enjoyed being your brother-in-law. It has been an honor to serve under you, and it will be my proudest boast to the grandchildren I hope to someday have that we fought together.” He grinned shyly. “I will omit mentioning that we killed no one, which is a fact admirable in a man but deplorable in military heroes.”

“Don't interrupt, little brother.” To Surplus, Fire Orchid said, “I would ask you to come with us, but I know you would not. You are too ambitious. Also, you are too restless, and when we get home we intend to be very quiet people indeed. With money we can become honest businesspeople. Well … honest-enough businesspeople, anyway. We will breed mountain horses and open a shop to sell some of the nice things we picked up along the way.” She leaned down from her mountain horse and swiftly kissed Surplus. “Good-bye, sweet doggy man. You were a very good pretend husband, but I think now I need to find a real one.”

With a peremptory gesture, Fire Orchid led her family away. Several of them turned in their saddles to wave as they left. Little Spider blew him a kiss.

For a very long time, Surplus stared after them. When they had dwindled to first specks and then nothing in the fog, Darger (who was a light sleeper and had put in his appearance early on in the confrontation, though he had said nothing) placed a hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“I may be heartbroken, or I may be relieved,” Surplus said after a long silence. “God only knows which.”

Secretly, however, he could not help reflecting on the fact that Fire Orchid had easily doubled his effectiveness. He doubted he would ever find a partner her equal again. Which was so discomforting a thought that he immediately thrust it from his mind.

*   *   *

NOT COUNTING
the Dog Pack and Prince First-Born Splendor's men, fewer than a hundred soldiers had deserted overnight—and most of those had swum the river or slunk off into the surrounding countryside rather than face the despising looks of those guarding access to the portable bridge.

The morale of the Immortals was clearly far better than that of their leaders.

“How is the emperor?” Surplus asked when Darger returned from the final prebattle council.

“Chipper. Convinced that we will win easily. Full of plans for the celebratory banquet and the honors that will be assigned at it. You are looking at the recipient of more honorary titles than I can properly remember.”

“Did he say anything of the battle itself?”

“No.”

“Sometimes,” Surplus said, “I fear that Capable Servant but incompletely understands the nature of warfare.”

Darger was about to respond when a messenger appeared and, with a formal bow, said, “Ceo Perfect Strategist, the Hidden Emperor summons you to lead his armies.”

With a curt nod, Darger said, “Tell him I have received his summons.”

Surplus took a deep breath. “I will confess that I am not looking forward to this. Today's odds are a little too democratic for my liking.”

“Indeed, I myself feel like a man with the worst hangover of his life—and not so much as the memory of an unexpected sexual misadventure to show for it. Nevertheless, we have done all that we could to prepare,” Darger said. “Now it's time to learn how we are in action. Let's make this good.”

In the far distance, the city gates of North swung open and soldiers emerged carrying a flag of parley.

 

20.

The Long River flows to the east,

Surge upon surge,

Whitecapping waves sweeping all heroes onward

As right and wrong, triumph and defeat, turn to dreams.

But the green hills are eternal,

Blushing in the sunset.

—ROMANCE OF THE THREE KINGDOMS

THE CONFRONTATION,
which had looked from a distance to be formidably desperate, was in the end merely a matter of enduring an endless string of ceremonies. For the chief executive officer of North had brought his armies out of the hills and the city not to fight but to surrender. First, Ceo Noble Tiger relinquished his sword. Then his rifle. He presented a box containing the heads of the seven highest-ranking administrators in the Oligarchy of North and then drank tea with the commanders of the Abundant Kingdom forces—who now, Darger supposed, were simply the Chinese army. After which, Noble Tiger prostrated himself before the Hidden Emperor and swore eternal fealty to both the man and the reunited nation he represented. The ceo's sword and rifle were then ritually returned to him, and he was elevated to the rank of Field Marshal of Northern China and Defender of the Emperor. Whiskey was poured all around and drunk. The glasses were smashed, so that the toasts offered with them could never be unmade. Hands were shaken. Declarations were signed, and the pens used were given away as souvenirs for various subordinates to cherish forever.

It was wearisome, but in all ways superior to combat.

At last, it was time to enter the city.

The armies swirled, mingled, formed up, and became a procession: First, the Hidden Emperor's Guard, followed by all his generals. Then, resplendent in his yellow robes, the Hidden Emperor—hidden no more—in an open palanquin carried by four officers who had won particular distinction in the war. Only a pace or three behind him were Field Marshal Noble Tiger to one side and Darger and Surplus to the other, all mounted on jade green horses. Then came wave upon wave of soldiers, backs straight and faces proud, and in those waves a hundred banners of as many military units from conquered lands across the length and breadth of the new empire.

All along the curving road to North, people came out of hiding to gawk and to cheer, their numbers growing as the army came closer to the city. Flowers were strewn before the soldiers and baskets of butterflies (first red! then orange! then yellow! then green! then blue! then purple!) were released in their honor.

The city gates had been not only torn down but smashed to flinders and used to create a bonfire to one side of the gaping gatehouse. No welcome could have been more emphatic. Through the opening could be seen bright masses of people, the citizens of North.

Above the gatehouse flew not the black flag of North but the red and yellow one of China.

Lining the avenue inside were more soldiers, at parade rest, who snapped to attention at the army's approach. As the Chinese flag neared them, they saluted it smartly. Shortly thereafter, they did the same for the emperor. For a heartbeat, fear rose up in Darger that he had fallen into exactly such a trap as he had laid for Shrewd Fox in Crossroads. But then the excited cheers of the populace grew so loud that he knew this could be no ruse. All the world roared at the top of its lungs. The city walls took that shout and echoed it back. Bells rang from every tower. White ravens were released by the thousands and jeweled dragonflies by the millions.

“Is it not brave to be a conqueror, my friend? Is it not brave to be a conqueror and ride in triumph through Beijing?” Darger found he was grinning so widely that his face hurt. He could barely hear himself over the cheers of the people.

“That's a paraphrase of Marlowe, isn't it?” Surplus leaned close to shout back at him. “Yes, this is sweet. But what will follow—as much of the wealth of the richest nation on earth as we can bring ourselves to shovel into our own coffers—will come to dwarf this day in our memories.”

“Indeed, it will,” Darger said. “Perhaps. I think.” He felt a touch of doubt within him, and he did not know if it was a premonition or simply his inherent lack of optimism. For the least fraction of a second—no more!—he felt as though he had gotten a glimpse of some bleak truth lurking at the heart of the human condition. Then his spirits rose again. He forgot whatever it was he had intuited and cried, “Oh, dear Lord, the loot that lies before us! All the treasures of an empire lie at our feet with nobody ranking higher than we save a scarecrow emperor who is completely loyal to us, and whom we ourselves set upon the throne. It is as good as owning every bank and business in all of China.”

Looking at the faces in the street, he recognized not only hysteria and the willingness to applaud whatever spectacle was set before them but relief. These were the common people who were inevitably the first to be ground between the millstones of history. Though they did not know it, they were applauding not him, or the conquering army, or even the Hidden Emperor, but the long-overdue end of an age of war.

White flowers were flung by the double handfuls from the rooftops and danced in the air, creating storms of petals so thick that, occasionally, nothing could be seen through them. It was like forging one's way through a warm and fragrant snow squall.

So intense was the experience that Darger could not have said whether it took them hours or mere minutes to arrive at the Forbidden City. All he knew was that one moment he was riding down Eternal Peace Street and the next he was in Heavenly Peace Square, surrounded by more people than it seemed possible for the entire world to contain—an ocean of humanity so turbulent that the soldiers linking arms to hold open a pathway through them were forced back and forth, as if battered by great waves. Meridian Gate, the entrance to the palace, slowly loomed up before him, like an island being approached by a ship.

Now the four heroic officers carrying the Hidden Emperor's palanquin ascended the steps to either side of the central ramp, on which was carved a dragon over which only he could pass directly. Behind him, all those on horseback dismounted, and ostlers appeared to lead their steeds away. At the top of the steps the emperor dismissed his palanquin so he could show himself to his subjects. His three chief subordinates climbed after him in a group.

Standing above them, the emperor said in his high, girlish voice, “Noble Tiger, stop three steps below me and face the crowd. Aubrey, Sir Plus, do likewise two steps from the top.” Then, when Darger and Surplus did so, Capable Servant placed his hands atop their heads, as if bestowing a blessing. Darger had thought the cheers could not possibly grow any louder, but the response then proved him wrong.

Leaning close so they could hear, Capable Servant said in his own cheerful voice, “Oh, sirs! This is a memory you may carry with you always.”

*   *   *

A GREAT
many dignitaries awaited inside the Forbidden City, arranged in rows. The Hidden Emperor advanced through them, recognizing one here by a glance and another there with a nod. On very rare occasions, the emperor reached out, as if he would actually touch an individual were he not far too exalted to actually do so. Decades hence, old women and wrinkled men would retell these fleeting connections with self-deprecating pride: “… close enough to touch, if I'd been willing to die for it … eyes met mine and while I could see he had no idea who I was, I felt like…” It was marvelous how deft a political touch Capable Servant displayed, how surely he intuited which of the Northern courtiers needed special recognition and which would be satisfied with a simple glance.

Or perhaps it was his new advisors who were to be praised.