From The Ashes (3 page)

“Ha! You expect an attack from over the mountains and across the desert by the backwards barbarians of the West?”

“What I expect is the unification of the entire Eastern Kingdom under my fist, when we have achieved our objectives.”

“
Our
objectives?”

“When our champion here marries the princess, he will gain access to the throne, through the imperial elders that reside here.”

“Neither I nor my troops are concerned with—”

“And when he
kills
them—and the queen, the capital of Bai Kuo will be as a fowl beheaded.
 
That is when you will bring in your troops and by a show of force alone, we will take this land.
 
Then you, oh my impatient and slow of understanding little friend, shall be made a prince over all the newly acquired regions.”

A pause.

Then slowly like webs of steam from an earthen cup of black tea, laughter floated up into the cold night.

“A masterful plan.
 
Why did you not tell me this from the start?”

“One had hoped you could have inferred it from the subtleties of my written communiqués.
 
Alas, you
are
as thick as my brother had always suspected.”

“Another insult?”

“Not an insult if—”

“Never mind!
My troops will be ready.
 
Just attend to your part.”

A frigid bead of sweat rolled down Ying’s spine.
 
He tried his best not to let his increasingly rapid breathing betray him.
 
With his back pressed up against the tree, cold sweat from his shirt sticking to his skin, he waited until the three horsemen rode off in as many directions.

When finally they departed, the eagle returned and alighted on the branch directly above him.
 
Five, perhaps ten minutes had passed since the conspiratorial strangers left.
 
Only now did Ying lower his inadvertently arched shoulders.
 
He exhaled slowly and held his book tightly against his chest.

Just then, the eagle flew down and perched on his shoulder.
 
Ying let out a gasp, but when it stood perfectly still, its talons not even piercing his shirt, he relaxed.
 
“Remarkable!”

The eagle leaned down and stared at the book in Ying’s hands.
 
To his utter amazement the pages began to glow, golden beams of light radiating from behind the leather cover.
 
He sensed words, not in his ear, but in his spirit.
 
Difficult to discern, but the intent was as clear as the tree before him.

// DO NOT BACK DOWN …//

From all he read in the book, from all he’d learned from Aunt Pei’s teaching of the ancient Sojourners, he knew to trust this inner voice which he recognized from other pivotal moments in his life.
 
It had spoken when the mountain lion attacked the flock and quickly turned on him.
 
It had spoken when the wolf rushed at him in the open field.
 
And it had said the very same words.
 
Do not back down.

The entire royal family was in danger.
 
But by whom?
 
He had not seen the faces of the conspiring trio.
 
Nor did he recognize their voices because they spoke in low murmurs.

But he knew he must tell Chi.
 
He must warn Mei-Liang, her mother The Queen, and her uncle The Lord Protector, no matter the cost.

The sun rose over Bai Kuo’s capital over a deep blue canvas.
 
The stone walls had been washed for the royal contests and now white as marble, they shone brilliantly and cast a halo over the entire citadel.

As the cart which carried Ying and the other contestants entered through the gates, the eagle remained on his shoulder drawing apprehensive glares.
 

“It’s for the contest,” he explained.

“You can’t bring your own, can you?” said the older man who had slept in the top bunk the night before.

Ying smiled.
 
“There’s no rule prohibiting it.”

Guards with long spears stood at either side of the open gate.
 
Ying could not help but wonder if perhaps they might be a part of the plot to overthrow Mei-Liang’s kingdom.
 
If only he could warn her, or at least get word to her that they, indeed the entire capital, were all in grave danger.
 
He knew better than to speak with any of the contest officials about this matter; any one of them could be involved.

Chi was nowhere in sight.
 
Who knew when or if they would meet again?
 
Nevertheless, Ying had to win this next contest.
 
It was the only way to get a chance to get close enough to speak with the princess—when she bestowed the victor’s wreath.
 
But would she believe him?
 
Would she even remember him?
 
It didn’t matter.
 
He had to try.

After a trumpet fanfare announcing the arrival of all the noble contestants, the audience cheered their favorites.
 
A few moments afterwards, Ying’s peasant cart arrived in the arena.
 
The only fanfare came from the mocking crowds, whistling and making obscene gestures at the less than noble competitors.

Cages of various beasts and fowls lined the perimeter of the arena.
 
This was one event Ying felt confident he could win, especially because of his new friend, the eagle.

That Ying had made it this far, despite his defeat by Moh-Gwei, added to his hope that he might prevail.
 
Thus far, he had risen swiftly to the top of other contests that required tactics and strategy such as
Leit
.
 
This was an exotic game ordinarily played with military pieces across a round board with manifold concentric circles, each band sectioned off into twelve columns radiating from the center.

Instead of hand held pieces, however, for the purposes of this tournament and benefit of the audience, the matches had employed live characters on a giant board in the center of the arena, each enacting the commands of the contestants.

Ying had never beheld such a spectacle and found it inspiring as he defeated opponent after opponent.
 
Unfortunately, the battle of wits gave way to combat matches, and that was where his skills and training found their limitations.

True, he had fought off and killed a mountain lion and a wolf to protect his flock, but a shepherd did not stand a chance against a trained warrior like Moh-Gwei.

“All contestants!”
 
The officiator’s voice pulled Ying from his thoughts.
 
“You will all be allotted twenty-minutes to select and train your animal.
 
In this, the penultimate of contests, you will display your mastery of the fourth ancient element.
 
The fabled ‘spirit potential.’”

The audience laughed with amusement at the term.
 
The ancients were said to have possessed special abilities manifest in the characteristics of various animals.
 
But no one in this enlightened age believed it. Now, it had been reduced to lore and superstition.

But for Ying it held more than just a belief in the stories of the Ancients—The Sojourners—as Aunt Pei had secretly taught.
 
He believed they did exist even ten centuries ago, “
When the last Millennial Phoenix arose and brought about the redemption of Valhandra’s people
.”

Even now, as her didactic words echoed in his mind, they sounded superstitious and childish on the surface.
 
And those who once believed were either dead, or too old to be taken seriously.
 
But Ying still chose to believe.
 
Even now, he pushed aside any dissenting thoughts.

For the next twenty minutes, he acquainted himself with the eagle, which he named Xue.
 
It seemed instantaneous; everything he commanded, Xue understood and knew how to execute.
 
A mutual fondness grew between the master and bird with each exercise, even the command to kill the stuffed practice decoy of the wolf.

“
Shah!”
Ying commanded in the ancient dialect, which presently very few knew.
 
Xue flew at the decoy and tore its head off. White stuffing floated down to the dirt as it carried it into the air.

A low sigh of wonder went up into the arena.
 
Apparently many of them had been watching.
 
But they were not watching Ying and his eagle, they were marveling at Moh-Gwei.
 
He had just arrived with a mountain lion on a shiny silver chain.
 
It was then that Ying remembered that this was not only a contest of skill, but a fight to the death.

One inebriated audience member leaned over the rail and in slurred speech derided Ying.
 
“Don’ you wisth you brought a panther or thomesing…not a little bird!”

Ying ignored him and trained his eyes upon Xue’s.
 
In that moment, he sensed a connection.
 
He could almost see through the eagle’s eyes, and felt that the eagle could do likewise through his.

// IT’S A MOUNTAIN LION, XUE //

To his amazement, he sensed Xue’s reply:

// I HAVE FOUGHT WORSE //

Nodding, Ying offered his confidence.
 
Xue did not even blink as he turned and stared at Moh-Gwei’s predator leaping through flaming hoops, attacking life-sized
human
decoys and tearing them to shreds.

When the practice trials concluded, a trio of Summit Horns announced the beginning of the tournament.
 
The first two rounds of elimination went by quickly.
 
In fifteen minutes, Xue had garnered quick surrenders from the masters of a wolf, a bear, a leopard, and a hawk.
 
None of them wished to see the creatures in their charge killed, especially after they had already lost by a great measure of points.
 
Xue’s speed and agility earned him many times the points needed to defeat each of his opponents without having to actually kill them.

There was, however, a great deal of blood and injury.

Xue returned to Ying’s shoulder.

Over on the other side of the arena, the crowds cheered as Moh-Gwei and his mountain lion stood before a mound of fallen animals.
 
They too had risen to the top of their division, only their opponents did not fare as well as Xue’s.
 
They were all dead.

The tournament official stood on the level stone in the center of field.
 
His ceremonial robe fluttered in the wind as he stood stiffly and called out, “Two finalists remain!
 
Moh-Gwei, Prince of the Seventh District, and Ying, shepherd of Xingjia!”

As the applause went up, the official motioned for them to come to the cage within which they were to battle.
 
Ying strode over and passed the booth with the red curtains.
 
The princess did not show herself, though her outline could be seen silhouetted by the sunlight.
 
Perhaps if he ran over to warn her…

The two armed guards with razor-tipped spears discouraged the thought.

The tournament master gestured for the gates to be locked and announced the rules of the final round.
 
“The winner of this match will proceed to the final contest.
 
It is therefore, a fight to the death.”

Ying glanced at Xue.
 
“You will be victorious.”

“You bird shall be dinner for Lohng!”
 
Moh-Gwei patted his mountain lion’s neck and unfastened the chain from its collar.
 
Lohng
! What arrogance naming a large cat “
Dragon
.”

Ying grinned.
 
“Did you see the bear Xue fought?
 
It was a bloody pulp, limping back to its cage without any eyes.”