at dusk.”
You still haven’t told me why the fox faerie is after me,” Li said, breathless.
Master Yun shoved her toward the entrance to the Forbidden City where two sentries waited to lock the gates. “Ask Tao. Now, go swiftly.”
To the west, the great death mound of First Emperor Qin loomed in the last orange light of the setting sun and two tiny shadows flickered over his vision. He had no time to see Li safely behind the gates. He leaped into the air, his robes catching the wind, lifting him with the earthly forces of the geomancer.
The power would not last long. He had summoned the Chi of the recent dead. Quan’s soldiers had been massacred, and their energy was neither lost nor destroyed now that they were dead—only changed. The massacre had flooded Master Yun with power, power that he was terrified to show to Li. He could capture the earth’s energy and make the sands blow and the rivers rise, but his kinsmen remained vulnerable because his power was lethal to them. Somehow he had to find a way to harness the ghosts’ energy, and bend it to his will. He bounced off the rooftops of the citizens’ homes until he reached the outskirts of the city. He stood on a treetop and scouted the countryside below.
Yes, two riders—and the rest of the troop dead.
Amidst the dust of trampling hooves, he spied Captain Chi Quan and Lieutenant He Zhu, tattered and battle weary, weaponless, goading their horses. He steepled his hands, shot into the air, clamped his arms to his side and landed on the road in front of the two beleaguered horsemen.
“Master Yun,” Quan exclaimed, startled, reining his horse to a halt. He placed his clasped hands to his soot-streaked forehead in a weak bow.
Master Yun took the reins, and waited for Quan to dismount. “I’m glad to see that you survived the Mongol’s treachery.” He had almost said the fox faerie’s treachery, but recalled just in time that He Zhu was Jasmine’s lover. He gave the lieutenant a brief glance, but got no reaction.
“Then you know,” Quan said, retrieving his horse and stroking its wind-torn mane.
“I do. But tell me exactly what happened.”
“They were waiting for us, waiting as if they knew we would bypass the safer, more sheltered southern route and take the Northeast Passage where the land is open and grim. We didn’t stand a chance. We rode like a massive moving target, and they ambushed us. Twenty thousand men wiped out just like that. Zhu and I barely escaped. We returned to warn his Majesty that Esen means business. Otherwise, we would have stayed and fought to our deaths.”
“A wise decision. Your deaths would have gained nothing. Be comforted in the knowledge that your soldiers did not die in vain. The Emperor is safe.”
“Praise the gods. In the heat of battle, we could see nothing ahead of us but a storm of arrows and a lake of blood, and the flash of sabre and dagger.”
“No other survivors?” Master Yun asked, glancing up at He Zhu, who out of respect for his superiors had remained mounted.
When Quan answered, his voice entered Master Yun’s ears as a hoarse whisper. “No. No other survivors.”
The reply rang with the desperation of the warriors’ plight. At the first deaths, Master Yun had summoned the Chi of the ghost soldiers, assumed the mantle of the geomancer. He had sent a torrent of rain and lightning onto the exposed plain where the Mongols had struck, but had only managed to hinder his own people.
“I am going to His Majesty at once,” Quan said. “We have no choice but to fortify the walls. While the wall goes up, we can establish new garrisons and train men to guard the workers. Earthen ramparts already exist; all we have to do is replace the foundation with solid brick. We will build permanent watchtowers and signal beacons, post sentries at every fortress. At the first sign of the invaders, we will attack. This at least will give us time to rebuild our decimated armies.”
“No more war?” Zhu
You still haven’t told me why the fox faerie is after me,” Li said, breathless.
Master Yun shoved her toward the entrance to the Forbidden City where two sentries waited to lock the gates. “Ask Tao. Now, go swiftly.”
To the west, the great death mound of First Emperor Qin loomed in the last orange light of the setting sun and two tiny shadows flickered over his vision. He had no time to see Li safely behind the gates. He leaped into the air, his robes catching the wind, lifting him with the earthly forces of the geomancer.
The power would not last long. He had summoned the Chi of the recent dead. Quan’s soldiers had been massacred, and their energy was neither lost nor destroyed now that they were dead—only changed. The massacre had flooded Master Yun with power, power that he was terrified to show to Li. He could capture the earth’s energy and make the sands blow and the rivers rise, but his kinsmen remained vulnerable because his power was lethal to them. Somehow he had to find a way to harness the ghosts’ energy, and bend it to his will. He bounced off the rooftops of the citizens’ homes until he reached the outskirts of the city. He stood on a treetop and scouted the countryside below.
Yes, two riders—and the rest of the troop dead.
Amidst the dust of trampling hooves, he spied Captain Chi Quan and Lieutenant He Zhu, tattered and battle weary, weaponless, goading their horses. He steepled his hands, shot into the air, clamped his arms to his side and landed on the road in front of the two beleaguered horsemen.
“Master Yun,” Quan exclaimed, startled, reining his horse to a halt. He placed his clasped hands to his soot-streaked forehead in a weak bow.
Master Yun took the reins, and waited for Quan to dismount. “I’m glad to see that you survived the Mongol’s treachery.” He had almost said the fox faerie’s treachery, but recalled just in time that He Zhu was Jasmine’s lover. He gave the lieutenant a brief glance, but got no reaction.
“Then you know,” Quan said, retrieving his horse and stroking its wind-torn mane.
“I do. But tell me exactly what happened.”
“They were waiting for us, waiting as if they knew we would bypass the safer, more sheltered southern route and take the Northeast Passage where the land is open and grim. We didn’t stand a chance. We rode like a massive moving target, and they ambushed us. Twenty thousand men wiped out just like that. Zhu and I barely escaped. We returned to warn his Majesty that Esen means business. Otherwise, we would have stayed and fought to our deaths.”
“A wise decision. Your deaths would have gained nothing. Be comforted in the knowledge that your soldiers did not die in vain. The Emperor is safe.”
“Praise the gods. In the heat of battle, we could see nothing ahead of us but a storm of arrows and a lake of blood, and the flash of sabre and dagger.”
“No other survivors?” Master Yun asked, glancing up at He Zhu, who out of respect for his superiors had remained mounted.
When Quan answered, his voice entered Master Yun’s ears as a hoarse whisper. “No. No other survivors.”
The reply rang with the desperation of the warriors’ plight. At the first deaths, Master Yun had summoned the Chi of the ghost soldiers, assumed the mantle of the geomancer. He had sent a torrent of rain and lightning onto the exposed plain where the Mongols had struck, but had only managed to hinder his own people.
“I am going to His Majesty at once,” Quan said. “We have no choice but to fortify the walls. While the wall goes up, we can establish new garrisons and train men to guard the workers. Earthen ramparts already exist; all we have to do is replace the foundation with solid brick. We will build permanent watchtowers and signal beacons, post sentries at every fortress. At the first sign of the invaders, we will attack. This at least will give us time to rebuild our decimated armies.”
“No more war?” Zhu
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