The Stone Road (30 page)

Chapter 36

“My treachery?” Haung spat, “You're the traitor, Marbu. I've been to your house. I’ve met Jing Ke. I killed him.”

“Interesting lies, former
Jiin-Wei
Haung but there is a warrant for your arrest on the charge of treason and these soldiers will see that it is carried out.” Marbu smiled from his place of safety behind the armoured soldiers.

The corridor was wide enough for the two soldiers to come at him at once but not wide enough to allow them free reign to swing their swords. Haung took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, settling further into his stance. The guards came to a halt just over a sword’s length away and waited.

“Get him,” Marbu shouted.

The soldier on the left lunged forward, all of his weight behind the sabre thrust aimed straight at Haung’s heart.

Haung stepped lightly to the left putting the lunging guard between him and the second soldier. The tip of his own
Jian
sword flowed like water across the outstretched arm of his attacker, following the line past elbow, bicep, and shoulder to slide through the gap between helmet and armoured shirt. The force of the lunge carried the guard to the hilt of Haung's sword, eyes wide in pain and disbelief, mouth open in a silent scream.

As the guard's limp body fell forwards, Haung was forced to let go of his sword. The second guard recovered and now had room to swing his sabre without worry, which he did in a flat arc designed to take Haung’s head from his shoulders. Haung ducked but, with no sword of his own, was unable to strike back. Now with the corridor wall at his back he had nowhere to retreat.

The guard growled and swung again, the same flat arc, but this time aimed at Haung's midriff. No way to side step and no going backwards, Haung stepped forward, inside the swing. The guard’s forearm smashed into Haung’s ribs, winding him and he grunted in pain. But now within reach, he stuck out with a straight palm to the guard’s chin. Then, clamping his right arm down to trap the guard’s sword-arm against his side, Haung stepped forward again, pushing the guard hard up against the opposite wall. With his free hand, he gripped the guard’s helmet and rammed it against the solid stone once, twice and then once more to make sure. The guard gurgled, eyes rolling backwards in their sockets, and collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Haung bent down and withdrew his sword from its flesh scabbard, the neck of the soldier. It slid out with a soft sigh of escaping air and a torrent of blood. As Haung straightened he felt wetness from the re-opened wound on his back.

“I told you,” and he bit off each word, “that if you came after my wife, I would kill you.”

# # #

“An untrained
Wu
at that. See that we are not disturbed.” The duke stepped forward waving away the two guards who had rushed in from their posts and redirected his attention back to Zhou, “Do you know how long it has been since I had a proper opponent? Not that you are one, by the way.”

Zhou stepped forward and raised the staff to attack. The duke smiled and the raging fire in Zhou’s mind was snuffed out by a thick covering of ice. From that smothering blanket of cold, spreading veins of ice invaded his mind, each one unlocking a memory, an emotion, a snapshot of his past.

“I can see it all you know.” The duke’s voice changed. It was slower, almost a whisper and it was inside Zhou’s head. “Every memory is there for me to look at. I can show them all to you. What would you like to see first?”

Zhou watched his dust covered hands pull the little body from the wreckage of his home. The broken tangle of limbs, the blood smeared face, the dark mess of his son's hair.

Zhou watched the cattle transform into the gruesome mix of beast and man. Legs, arms and torsos contorted. Faces, mouths open wide in silent horror.

Zhou watched Hsin’s legs smashed by the hammer of the crucifier. The old man raised up on the crossed beams to be displayed before all. Eyes full of pain and despair.

Zhou saw his city in flames. Smoke rising towards the heavens, covering the sky with a dark shroud of death.

The Dryad’s staff clattered to the floor and Zhou, clutching his temples, fell to his knees, screaming.

“It’s all there. I can show you anything. Would you like to see your wedding day,” his wife’s face smiling, “your wedding night,” her soft exhalations in his ear, the feel of her skin, “birth of your child,” the wailing scream of the wrinkled baby, wrapped in a towel, as it was placed in his arms, “or his death,” the blood, the dust, “though you've seen that already. I can make you live in that instant for the rest of your life, if I choose.”

Tears sprang to Zhou’s eyes and he bent forward, forehead touching the floor as memory after memory was played out in his mind’s eye. His whole life was rifled through as he struggled to marshal his thoughts and regain control.

“So it was you from the walls?” the duke’s voice was close to his ear, “You ruined my carefully prepared scheme.”

A foot crashed into his ribs and Zhou fell onto his side, the stone floor hard against his shoulder. He saw the arrow arc from his bow and into the nightmare creatures on the plain before the city, he saw them transform again and again.

“You could have saved us all a lot of trouble by just dying during the battle.” Another foot struck him, this time in the back. “At least you could have come against me as a trained
Wu
. Maybe then you could have made a fight of this. Then again, maybe someone should have warned you.”

Zhou felt the duke dig through his memories again.

“I see,” said the duke, and Zhou felt his ankle being crushed against the stone floor. “That is for disobeying your teacher. You should have gone to the mountain.”

The pressure eased on his mind and Zhou took a deep, shuddering breath. Opening his eyes, he could see the duke’s feet a pace or two in front of him. Zhou watched as the duke squatted down to look at him.

“Your spirit is unguarded, did you know that?” Zhou could see the sharp white teeth of the duke as a devilish grin split the man’s face. “You didn’t, did you. Should have gone to the mountain, or told the Bear what you were going to do. I've never met him, you know. I've heard of him, of course, but he was long gone from the mountain before my training took place. Well,” the duke stood back up and Zhou could hear him pacing, “I suppose it falls to me to do his job for him. Your spirit binds to you but seeks out company of its own kind. That’s what yours is doing now. Seeking out another like it and it found mine, or rather mine found yours. It is open and that opens you up to just this sort of thing. You would learn, on the mountain, to guard your spirit. Those without the spirit I can influence and suggest, and make those suggestions seem like the most brilliant idea they ever had but I can’t enter their minds like I can yours.”

Zhou struggled back up onto his knees, “I will kill you.”

The duke paused and the walls of the great hall echoed to his laughter. “Now then, let’s look a little deeper shall we. This is a good chance to catch some more spies, assassins and terrorists. After all,
little Wu,
you must have had help to get this far.”

# # #

Marbu smiled, “I think I will enjoy this.”

“Not as much as me,” Haung said as he stepped forward over the guards’ bodies.

“You think so,” and Marbu undid the clasp of his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Haung saw him reach behind and draw two short, thick bladed swords from hidden sheaths. “I argued against you becoming a
Jiin-Wei
you know. The commander wasn’t too happy either but the duke likes you and, despite the fact that he can’t control you like all the others, he trusts you.”

“Controls?” Haung paused in his advance.

“You’ve felt it. He told me that you had and that you resisted.” Marbu smiled at him. “You didn’t realise? Not as bright as you think.”

Haung recalled the presence in his mind, the pressure to open up and comply. The barrier he had erected was second nature by now and it was no longer a conscious effort to maintain. Something of his realisation must have shown on his face.

“Worked it out, have you?” Marbu spun the blades lazily. “He controls all those close to him in that way. He can dip in and out of your mind as easily as you would pick rice from a bowl.”

“How come he hasn’t realised you for the traitor you are?” Haung raised his sword again.

“Training, practice and effort. I was chosen especially for this before you were even born.” Marbu took another step forward. “It feels good to finally be me again. By now the events I set in motion will have delivered the assassins to the duke and they will have killed him. Once I kill you, I can go home.” 

“And is that the reason you hate me and my wife so much?” Haung moved into a different stance, side on to Marbu. His left hand crept carefully towards a pouch on his belt and withdrew the tiny scroll within.

“Your wife was your prize and prison.” Marbu stilled the twirling blades. “She bound you to the duke, no other
Jiin-Wei
is married but more than that, he could enter her mind and see what you were up to. Men say all sorts of things on the pillow. But without his control, I could not be sure you would be blinded to my scheme. I have been re-directing Weyl and the duke away from my activities for years. Now it won’t matter.”

Haung swept his left hand up, called out the word written on the scroll and a bolt of air raced down the corridor towards Marbu. The secretary raised both swords before him and the air splashed against them, dissipating into nothing.

“A nice try. But Haung, really?” Marbu smiled at him, “I’ve been around
Jiin-Wei
and
Fang-shi
for a long time. Do you think I learnt nothing?”

The secretary leapt forward, striking at Haung with both swords. 

# # #

Zhou tried to clamp down on his thoughts but he felt the first fingers of the duke’s search breach the fragile outer walls of his mind he had constructed.

“No,” Zhou spat the word at the duke.

“Don’t struggle, it will only hurt you more.” The duke’s eyes had altered. Gone were the round iris and pupil and, instead, Zhou could see a verdant green bisected by a narrow, black diamond.

Cold seeped through Zhou’s limbs, draining the energy and life from them. Turning him into a statue. The fight in his mind was unequal, he stood no chance so he surrendered that battle. Gathering his remaining energy, Zhou lunged toward the dropped staff. A grip, a twist of the body and he could throw it hard at the duke, hoping it would be enough to break the duke's hold on his mind and give him a chance to attack.

The impact on the floor drove the last of the breath from Zhou’s body but his outstretched hand found the dryad’s staff. The smooth wood and the familiar tingle gave him confidence and renewed energy. He rolled over and raised the staff for the throw.

The tingle raced up his arm and met the duke’s invasion in Zhou’s head. His whole body convulsed, heels drummed against the stone, arms muscles locked rigid, and Zhou felt time stop between one heartbeat and the next. Everything was silent and still.

The smell of damp earth, the bracing winter wind, the spring sun upon skin, the dry heat of summer, all exploded in Zhou’s mind. New life flooded his limbs and the roots of purpose dug down through his thoughts, anchoring him and making him whole again. Control returned to him.

The duke screamed. Zhou watched the man stumble backwards over one of the chairs.

“Get out,” the duke shouted, paying no attention to Zhou, who was regaining his feet.

Zhou dashed forward and raised the staff over his head, ready to bring it down on the duke’s head. The duke was on his knees but managed to raise a hand to block the staff. Then, before Zhou could strike again the dark shirt he was wearing was grabbed by the duke’s other hand and he was yanked forward to stare into those transformed green eyes.

“It’s not that easy,” the duke spoke in a sibilant whisper.

Zhou tried to pull away as the duke opened his mouth and a forked tongue flicked out to brush across Zhou’s cheek. A green mist shot forth from the duke’s mouth and it was Zhou’s turn to scream as the poison stung his eyes.

Zhou felt himself thrown through the air and he landed hard on the floor. The skin on his face was burning as the acid in the poison seeped into the skin, his vision vanished down a dark tunnel and his chest constricted making breathing difficult. And then the smell of damp earth, the coolness of spring rain, and the heat of summer rose through his body once more, flooding up from the staff. It did not wash away all the pain but made it manageable and Zhou found his feet once more.

Beside his feet, the stones cracked and buckled. From between the individual stones, green shoots poked tender tips that grew and climbed towards the ceiling. Small saplings branched and budded, leaves unfurled and the trunks thickened. Still the trees grew, up past his knees and waist, branches widening and dividing. Zhou looked around in wonder as three apple trees bloomed and  near the tips of every branch and twig fruit hung down. The hall filled with the smell of ripe apples.

“This, Lord Duke, is the end.” Zhou slipped the staff back through the tightly wound cloth where he could reach it again and called to the spirit. It came and Zhou dived into it with his whole heart and being. His jaw ached as new teeth, sharp teeth, forced their way down through his gums. The bones on his hands writhed, twisted and re-moulded themselves, sharp talons pushing from his fingertips. Zhou roared and leapt at the duke, claws outstretched.