Butterfly Swords (24 page)

At dusk, the wagon rolled to a stop. They had reached the foothills. Their leader came by the wagon to give her a cursory glance as she sat propped up against one side. An angry cut slashed across his cheek, below his left eye. Someone had stitched it closed and the blood had begun to dry over the wound. It gave her petty satisfaction knowing she had put it there.

‘Untie me.’ She repeated her demand louder as he walked by, but he ignored her.

He stood apart from the rest of them, turning her butterfly swords over in his hands as he inspected them in the waning daylight. Then he hooked both of the swords into his belt as if they were trophies. Of course Li Tao would send mindless brutes like this to do his bidding.

The next time they stopped the wagons, it was to rest for the night. She watched as they unhitched the horses. Yumen Guan was not that far away. If she could get free of her bonds and steal a mount, there was a small chance.

She could hear the commander barking orders from the other side of the camp. No fires would be set for the night. They didn’t want to risk being discovered. Once the guard detail was set, he positioned himself beside the cart and drew his sword, resting it across his arms.

He remained nearby while she was given food and water. She wanted to spit it at him, but she needed her strength and she was still shaking from the battle. He probably slept standing up with his eyes open, she thought ruefully, as she slumped down in the cart. With a rough motion, he threw a coarse blanket over her shoulders.

She cradled her sore arm close, thankful it wasn’t broken. A matter of nights ago she had been with Ryam, probably for the last time. It had ended so abruptly, cut to the quick. She couldn’t stop thinking of how they hadn’t said farewell to each other. They hadn’t said anything at all.

Sleep took a long time in coming, but when it did, it dragged her down into a murky exhaustion that spread bone deep.

She hadn’t stirred at all until the beat of hooves jerked her awake. The dingy light told her it was just before dawn.

The sound was faint, but it grew steadily louder. From the cadence of it there were multiple riders approaching. A faint hope rose within her. The morning watch stirred and shouted to the others to rise and take arms.

Li Tao’s head man found the direction of the sound and moved to the front of the camp where he stood waiting, feet apart and shoulders squared.

It was Ryam. He rode at the head of a band of the western barbarians. She let out a startled cry. The soldiers surrounded her, spilling into the wagon to grab her and force her back down as she tried to rise.

Ryam looked half-crazed. He must have ridden through the night to find her. His face was haggard, his complexion grey. What could he do against fifty armed men? They were going to be slaughtered.

‘Go back,’ she pleaded.

He found her with his eyes and she was stricken cold with fear.

He had come there to die.

Two thoughts entered Ryam’s mind. They faced much more than twenty men. A quick scan over the swarm of black-and-red uniforms told him they’d be outnumbered more than three to one. The second thought was that it was too late to turn back.

He signalled to the men and they pulled into a tight formation as they advanced. They knew the scenario. When you were outnumbered, stay close. Separation meant death.

Ailey stared out from the throng of soldiers. Her arms were bound and she looked as if she’d been beaten. Rage coursed through him until his body overflowed with it. Someone would die. All of them, if he had his way.

‘Ryam, you shouldn’t have come.’

The sound of her voice sent a surge of strength like quicksilver through his limbs. It wouldn’t last. They had ridden with little rest and barely a drink of water, let alone food. His single aim had been to get to Ailey.

He drew his sword and kicked his steed forwards to lead the charge. Li Tao’s forces hadn’t saddled up yet. His men needed to strike before the enemy could mount a defence. They rode through the centre of the camp, scattering the soldiers before them.

He kept his sights focused ahead on Ailey. If he could cut a path to her—once he had her secured within his grasp, he’d deal with the rest. To his left, the clang of steel told him they’d hit resistance. After the initial attack, the soldiers formed their defence on the ground, swords drawn. Ryam took out a foot soldier on his right with a strike to the head. Another swipe of his sword sent another man to the ground.

This wasn’t about defeating the enemy. He needed to keep moving forwards. He tried to urge the steed ahead, only to be surrounded by the bastards. His men cut through the throng. Their swords were heavier, able to inflict enough immediate damage to push through the crowd. It wasn’t long before the laboured grunt of a horse filtered through the shouting. One of the riders was being taken down. The impact beside him shook the earth.

Ryam cut through two more soldiers before the man at his right flank was dragged from the saddle. Hands grabbed on to his bridle. More took hold of him from the right, shoving him off balance. He kicked at them.

Numbers. There were too many. Once the right guard broke, the enemy surged between them.

His ride was going down. Ryam freed himself from the stirrups and attempted to control the fall. Gravel bit into his shoulder as he struck the ground. A cloud of dust crowded his lungs. He rolled and then dragged himself to his feet. His body ached from the impact.

He was better on the ground anyway.

But visibility was gone. Through the thick of the battle, he saw a few of the men were still on horseback. A few fought on foot.

An imposing warrior in armour stood at the edge of the throng. His sword was drawn, but he stood apart, watching. Their commander. The sight of Ailey’s butterfly swords hanging from his belt added insult to injury.

Ryam trained his gaze on him and the warrior never moved. His underlings skulked forwards, a pack of wolves closing in on an injured animal.

He’d lost sight of the others in the dust storm. A vague thought came to him: death ground. He was on death’s ground and there was nothing to do but fight. It was how he’d survived when the imperial soldiers had outnumbered them. It was how he’d rescued Ailey when they first met.

His strength was fading. He swung his sword in an endless volley. He didn’t know how many he took out. It didn’t matter. When the sword was knocked from his hands, he resorted to his fists. He could hear Ailey crying as he was wrestled to the ground and the sound of it broke him. The jagged gravel bit into his shoulder blades as he continued to struggle.

Something hard and blunt slammed against the side of his head. With his last thread of sight, he saw his father’s blade lying fallen in the dirt. Then everything went black.

A
iley stopped fighting her captors during the long journey back to the southern defence command. There were too many of them and they watched her as if their lives depended on it. They would return her to their master and she was powerless to stop it.

The soldiers had taken Ryam and four of his men prisoner and left the rest in the corridor to die or flee. They didn’t seem to care. For the first days, she had pleaded and bargained with their leader to release them. Each time, he presented her with the back of his head. He and the others must have had orders not to speak to her unless necessary. After that, she sat in the wagon and watched as the mountains and wild plains faded into the dense forests of the south. She needed to be calm and think of what she would do once she was returned to Li Tao.

The warlord wanted to kill Ryam himself. That would be the only reason they kept him alive. They kept him imprisoned in one of the other wagons, refusing to let her see him. Her last sight of him had wrenched her heart. He’d been slumped over, his face to the ground, broken and bleeding. Unmoving.

Ryam had charged into battle as if he were invincible. It seemed he would always come for her, but only when she was in danger. It was another thing entirely to be willing to stand beside her, to stay with her.

The commander rode by to check on her, the cut below his eye making him seem even more vicious. He regarded her tears with a hard expression, eyes narrowed. Lifting her chin in defiance, she glared back at him, not caring if he saw her crying.

By the time they reached the edge of the bamboo sea, she had retreated into herself. It was a rare day when she spoke more than two words aloud. The sea was a wide expanse of bamboo that was known to sway and lilt in the breeze like a verdant ocean. The towering shoots engulfed the party in shade, but the natural beauty couldn’t touch her. This was supposed to be a place of tranquillity and peace, but for her the dirt path cutting through the forest led to the executioner.

Li Tao’s home was a military compound much like hers. As they arrived, there were soldiers assembled in pockets around the grounds, practising sword strikes against thick columns of bamboo and sparring against one another. Her father’s soldiers were trained to fight in the mountains, Li Tao’s to fight in the woods. Even if both Ryam and she were armed, they wouldn’t be able to escape against so many.

The wagons pulled around to the back of the mansion. The compound was protected from the rear by a wide gorge, the walls of grey stone cutting deep into the earth. As the wheels came to a halt, the soldiers cut her bonds. She tried to see where they would take Ryam, but they dragged her into the house and left her to the servants.

At first the household hovered about, uncertain of what to do with her. They addressed her politely as their mistress and would not meet her eyes as they spoke to her. A grey-haired woman who reminded her of Amah took her by the arm and led her into a private chamber. The old woman had a bath drawn as she clucked over the ugly bruises on Ailey’s arms and the rope burns at her wrists. The unexpected sympathy was a sharp contrast to the roughness of her capture.

‘Where is your master?’ Ailey asked. She wasn’t going to waste any time speaking to anyone but Li Tao.

‘Master Li will be back shortly.’

The servants assisted her in her bath, carefully washing around the nicks and bruises from her fight, which had been given enough time to grow dark and brutal. They dressed her in a sapphire-coloured robe and sprinkled her sleeves and collar with perfume, filling the dressing room with the scent of orange blossoms. She wanted to tear the heavy silk from her. She was being prepared as a new bride to be welcomed into the household. The thought sickened her.

The old serving woman who called herself Auntie Jinmei led her out to the sitting room and directed her onto a couch. Auntie’s thin hands worked efficiently, her touch not unkind as she smoothed out Ailey’s skirt and arranged the long sleeves over the discoloured patches on her arm. When she was finished, she backed out of the room in small steps without saying a word.

No more running. Ailey clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling. Li Tao had full rights to her since her parents had agreed to the marriage. Now that she was in his hands he could lock her up, he could beat her for her disobedience. He could do anything he wanted to Ryam. She sprang to her feet at the sound of footsteps in the outer hall.

‘I demand to see the Emperor,’ she said, turning to face the door.

‘I have already summoned your father.’

The calm reply cut through her anger. She staggered back as Li Tao stepped into the room. Her stare fixed on to the wound that slashed over his left cheek. He came to stand before her, stretching to his full height. His armour had been replaced with a nobleman’s robe, but he was no less intimidating.

‘You’re Li Tao?’

His mouth twisted into a smile that did not reach his eyes. ‘And you are Shen Ai Li.’

She had never considered the governor would come for her himself. The expanse of his shoulders and chest loomed before her, forcing her to abandon the assumption that he would be old and soft. She knew he was just over twice her age. His hair was cut short and jet black, threaded with silver at the temples. He hadn’t been this close to her since they had fought. His nose was raised like an eagle’s, his features well defined, starkly handsome.

‘Shen An Lu told me his daughter trained with swords. I didn’t imagine a woman would have the patience to acquire such skill.’

His disrespect lashed out endlessly. He insulted her in the guise of faint praise and called her father by his name instead of Emperor.

Li Tao traced the line of the cut across his cheek with a finger. ‘Since you are the one who marked me, you should have no complaint about having to look at this every day.’

She finally found her voice at his intimation. ‘I’m not marrying you.’

‘You will.’ His response was immediate, uncompromising. ‘You were promised to me and I have gone through considerable effort to find you.’

He came even closer, backing her up until her legs pressed against the edge of the couch.

‘I have known since you were born that I would marry you.’

There was no sentiment in his statement. His gaze fixed on her with feral intensity. She tried to meet it and was reminded of their swords locking in combat, her arms straining to hold up against his power.

Survival instinct had her searching the edges of the room for escape. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she would not let him intimidate her.

‘Are you plotting against my father?’ she demanded.

He laughed, a punctuated bark. ‘I have fought alongside Shen An Lu in many battles.’

‘You did not answer me. I was told about your schemes.’

He turned his back to her, dismissing her accusation. This had been his method for the entire journey when he chose not to answer. She refused to back down. Treason was a serious accusation to make of a man like Li Tao and she had staked everything on her conviction.

‘I know about the shipment of swords you smuggled into this province. You’re building an army against Changan. If you are truly a man with nothing to fear, then admit it.’

He swung around. ‘Those doddering ministers in Changan think they can control this vast empire. The
jiedushi
already rule this land, if they don’t destroy it first.’

‘Those were your weapons.’

‘They were,’ he replied calmly.

Despite her suspicions, it still unnerved her to hear the proof from him. ‘You want to break up the empire.’

‘It is already broken.’ He loomed closer. He lowered his voice until it rumbled deep against her spine, unnerving her. ‘There was no need to run to your father. I will tell him myself. I
have
told him. I can be his greatest ally or I can be his fiercest enemy.’

Li Tao was even more fearsome than she imagined. He wasn’t a simpering politician, grasping for power. He was a warrior like her father. Looking into his eyes, she truly believed he was capable of killing in cold blood, if it served his purposes.

She had to know. ‘Did you have my brother killed?’

Her hands were trembling and she clenched them into fists. She watched the warlord’s grim expression for any telling signs. He gave nothing away.

‘Shen Ming Han was young and brash. Reckless.’

Always that word. ‘You never answered the question,’ she said.

The way his gaze skimmed over her face set her heart pounding. If Li Tao had ordered her brother’s death, she would have to demand his life in return. But she already knew she was no match for the warlord.

‘Does it make sense that I would kill one of the Emperor’s precious sons? For what purpose? Your brother shouldn’t have rushed into battle like that. He was trapped in that valley. Many men were killed.’ Li Tao shook his head. ‘No one will ever know what happened there. But I will tell you this—if it had been me, I wouldn’t lie about it.’

His denial gave her no comfort. She couldn’t sense anything behind his motivations but cold logic and it frightened her even more than his reputation for being ruthless. ‘A man like you will never be loyal to anyone.’

‘Your ideals about honour are ghosts of a dying era,’ Li Tao declared without apology. ‘No one but Shen holds them any longer and that will be his downfall.’

‘I could never marry a man with no sense of honour.’

‘You speak of honour.’ He lowered his face to hers. ‘The barbarian who fought so valiantly for you—how honourable were his intentions after you gave yourself to him?’

A flood of heat rose up her neck. He was standing too close. She would have shoved him away, but that would mean touching him.

‘You were promised to me and you let him put his hands on you,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I should kill him for it.’

The blood drained from her face. He would do it. He was within his rights as her intended husband.

‘If I marry you, will you let him go?’

The thread of control snapped in him. She tried to move away, but he crowded her, blocking her escape and she fell back onto the couch. He placed his hands on either side of her, caging her in.

‘You may carry swords, but you are not a man and this is not a negotiation. If I do not kill this barbarian with my own hands, your father will execute him for the disrespect he has shown for both of us. And for you.’

The anger radiated from him in dark waves that made her tremble. For the first time she had a sense of the power Li Tao wielded: enough power to challenge the Emperor. She was a mere woman, a disobedient child. She already belonged to this man according to law and custom.

‘If you touch him…’ her chest rose and fell with each breath ‘…if you hurt him, I promise you will never have a moment’s peace in your own home. You will never enjoy your marriage bed. I will put a knife in your heart. It may be tomorrow, it may be fifty years from now. I swear it. I am Shen An Lu’s daughter and I will make good on my word.’

She glared up at him, challenging him to do anything, say anything to counter her. He could strike her or threaten her, but she meant every word.

His jaw tightened. ‘They said you were beautiful.’ His gaze slid over her face, lingering on her mouth. ‘They also said you were obedient.’

He straightened slowly, his eyes remaining on her the entire time. When he turned and strode from the room, she sank into the couch, finally able to breathe again.

The next morning, Ailey emerged from her sleeping chamber to see a gown of red silk laid out like a tongue of fire in her dressing room. On the bodice, tiny pearls had been sewn into the wings of a phoenix. The coloured threads hurt her eyes, they were so vibrant. Gold and silver and the purest green like a bamboo leaf shining with morning dew.

Auntie Jinmei stood beside the dress and touched the pearls with a reverent brush of her fingers. ‘Master Li told us you would need to be fitted for wedding clothes.’

Ailey grabbed a fistful of the red silk and marched out to the balcony, the only portal she had been allowed to the outside world. The old woman gasped as she tossed the dress over the wooden railing and leaned over wickedly to watch it fall.

‘Ungrateful child!’

‘Tell Li Tao he can spare the expense of buying me clothes. I am waiting for the Emperor to take me home.’

‘You will make master angry,’ Auntie muttered, shuffling out of the room.

Good. Ailey stared at the splash of crimson on the white stone courtyard below. A breeze rippled the silk. Perhaps the wind would drag the wedding dress into the chasm.

Li Tao had left her alone after their brief encounter the day before. Armed guards stood outside her door and the balcony was too high to escape. She was a prisoner until Father arrived. If Li Tao had his way, she would be a prisoner for the rest of her life.

Alone in the dressing room, Ailey put on a plain grey robe and ran a comb through her hair. Memories of Ryam took hold of her. She closed her eyes and imagined him burying his face into her hair as he kissed her neck. No one would tell her where he was. She pleaded with the servants, but they only averted their eyes and fell silent.

She returned to the balcony and breathed deep to take in the fresh, damp scent of cypress and moss. When Father came, she would swallow her pride and beg that Ryam be freed. She had to find a way to convince him, but nothing came to mind. Father would be angry at her for disobeying. He would be ashamed of her.

He would certainly demand Ryam’s death.

Her parents believed Li Tao to be a good match, yet he spoke proudly about treason and spat on honour as if it was a disease. He didn’t even deny that he was using her for his gain. She couldn’t live each day with contempt, distrustful of her own husband.

Ryam didn’t have power or wealth, but he cared for her. When she spoke he listened, curious and willing to learn. He treated her as if she was important, not a worthless woman. But what did all the concern in the world matter when he wouldn’t allow himself to be with her?