Prologue

Tizhou, Xiao Empire

the Magistrate

Magistrate Shang Xing rode at pace through the open gates into the grounds of his estate. Dust kicked up from the back of his brown roan’s hooves. The magistrate’s attendants followed on horseback; their black tunics flapping in the still air as they rode. Spring was turning into summer, and the sun from the late morning beat down on the riders. Xing felt beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

As the riders passed the vine-covered stone barrier wall that separated the estate from the bustling small town, Xing slowed his mount to a trot. The stablemaster ran up to meet the men as they dismounted. Xing’s back felt stiff as he returned to earth. He was older now, at forty three years, and needed to stretch. Long morning rides like this left him stiff and sore. Instead, Xing stood tall, acting as if he felt nothing.

“I want the beasts cleaned and fed,” Xing commanded.

“Of course, sir,” the stablemaster replied.

“They’ve come a long way this morning; they need good care.”

“Yes, sir.”

The stablemaster began to lead the animals back to the stable, working two at a time. Xing turned back to his attendants; they breathed in and out heavily. Their black tunics fell past their knees, with drooping sleeves covering their arms. Magistrate Shang’s tunic was an intricate stitching of spring flowers in a variety of colors set on black. Small blue buttons closed the garment, and a silk band pulled back his hair behind his head.

“Thank you for your help on this trip. You are dismissed for the day.”

The men bowed quickly, and hurried away towards the living quarters. Xing turned towards the main building at the heart of the estate. Standing in his way was his head servant, Yu. Yu was short, overfed, and balding in front of his top knot. He wore a plain cream colored tunic with sandals. Yu stood with his hands closed in front of him, waiting for his master to speak.

“Hello, Head Servant.”

“Hello, Master Shang.”

“Let’s walk.”

Head Servant Yu cocked his head slightly to the side, and stepped back, making way for Shang Xing to pass. The two men walked towards Shang Xing’s home, the central building in the grounds. The one story dark cypress wood building looked small from the front, but stretched back over one hundred meters. There were two large courtyards hidden within the outer walls of the structure. Between the courtyards sat the inner hall where Magistrate Shang conducted his business. The roofs were red glazed tile, and sloped downwards at an angle.

Servant Yu opened the door when they reached the southeast corner.

“Thank you,” Xing said.

The two men stepped into the entry hall, and moved towards the front courtyard. It was quiet there now, with most members of the household working indoors, or outside in the surrounding town. The courtyard was paved with stone walking paths interlaced with greenery and trees that kept the home shaded. Xing looked around the yard; the buds from spring were gone, and the lush green foliage covered the canopy. The noise from the bustling outside town was dampened.

“What business did I miss yesterday,” Xing asked quietly.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. A few farmers are late on their tax payments, and a land dispute between two neighbors.”

Xing scoffed, “Everyone’s late on their payments.”

“The mobilization of troops is not easy on the peasant class.”

“It is not my job to be prepared for them.”

The men walked slowly in the shade.

“And to whom are our tax payments headed, now?”

Xing paused and looked down at Yu, “You’ll know when you need to know.”

“Of course.”

“Please call on Priest Shan, and my wife. I will meet them in the inner hall.”

Head Servant Yu bowed slowly, and spun away towards the nearest entrance to the building.

Magistrate Shang continued walking slowly towards the inner hall. In truth, he wasn’t sure of the answer to Yu’s question: would he continue tax collection and payments to Emperor Xiao Tian at Ganyang, or take the deal form Guo Xue? Xing pondered his choice as he walked. Small birds called in the canopy above. Just ahead stood the arched wooden door that led to the inner hall. Two stone lions guarded each side of the building’s entry, facing the magistrate as he walked.

As Xing stepped inside the room the damped noise from the surrounding town vanished. The sparse room was darker than the courtyard, lit with oil lamps. A single long dark wooden table sat in the middle of the hall, with matching wooden chairs. Large paintings stretched across each of the four walls surrounding the table, and large clay jugs sat on small wooden tables holding fresh greenery from the outside world. Xing stepped around the table to a seat on the far side facing the door. The warm room smelled slightly damp from the moisture in the air. The cold dry winter air was long gone.

The magistrate heard a door open over his right shoulder, followed by slow, ponderous and loud footsteps. Priest Shan walked around the edge of the table and sat facing the magistrate slightly to his right. The priest wore a black tunic, stitched with red and gold thread. He was somewhat older than the magistrate, with his greying hair tied immaculately atop his head. Priest Shan sat quietly with a satisfied grin across his square jaw.

The two men waited in silence for a minute or two before Magistrate Shang heard another door open over his left shoulder. A quiet footfall made its way across the wood floor. Slowly the magistrate’s wife, Yin Hou, circled around the far side of the table and sat facing the magistrate, slightly to his left. Her symmetrical face was cold and solemn. She wore a long light blue skirt over a cream colored silk blouse with subtle floral stitching. Her sleeves were long, and wide. Yin Hou was ten years younger than her husband Shang Xing, and her small frame and well kept skin made her look even younger than her thirty three years.

“Let’s begin,” the magistrate addressed the meager council.

“How was your ride,” Priest Shan asked.

“Fine, thank you.”

“You know I used to live in Loghua.”

Magistrate Shang nodded curtly, “You reminded me before I left.”

The priest continued, “Honest, hard working people; fishermen and farmers. Devout, to the last.”

“The market was bustling,” the magistrate added.

“Ah, the old Loghua central market. I miss those stalls.”

“You left for a reason,” Yin Hou added quietly.

Priest Shan smiled, “I did. And I’m grateful to be here.”

“Why is he in Loghua?” Hou asked her husband, ignoring Priest Shan’s small talk.

“There was an incident. Some of his men were attacked.”

“In Loghua? I can hardly imagine,” the priest added.

“The story doesn’t make sense,” Xing said.

“How so?”

“According to Guo Xue, a band of local bandits ambushed his unarmed men. They were passing through the market, doing a routine inspection. One survivor fought off some the the bandits, and rode back to Shaozou to tell the tale.”

“That doesn’t sound odd to me, in truth. There used to be plenty of small bands of rogues out in the countryside when I lived in Loghua. These things happen, unfortunately. Even to the best of communities like Loghua.”

“And what did the villagers say,” Hou asked.

Xing looked at his wife, “They say it was a girl. A small girl killed ten armed soldiers.”

The priest scoffed.

“Why?” Hou asked, ignoring the priest.

“She defaced a mural of Guo Xue. You can still see the stains. They say she threatened his life.”

The priest laughed aloud, now. The magistrate saw the cold annoyance on his wife’s face as she glanced towards priest Shan.

“What’s so funny?”

“A little girl kills ten of the great Guo Xue’s men? And threatens his life? Forgive me if I find it hard to believe. In Loghua of all places.”

“So now a priest doesn’t believe fantastic stories? That’s a first,” Hou replied.

“Enough,” Xing cut through.

Yin Hou’s glare moved from Priest Shan to her husband.

“What did you call Guo Xue, Priest Shan?” Hou asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You said, the great Guo Xue—the great. It’s funny you would call the usurper to your Emperor’s throne, great.”

Priest Shan scoffed loudly, “Preposterous.”

“You said it.”

“I won’t engage in these silly games, lady Yin.”

“Spare me, both of you. Or I’ll council on my own,” Xing ordered.

It was quiet for a moment. Xing caught the faintest smile out of the corner of Hou’s mouth.

She’s enjoying this, as ever.

“Well dear husband, what’s the first order of business? Shall we talk about the late tax payments, or the land dispute?”

“Neither. Priest Shan—I trust you’ll handle those matters.”

“I’ve already begun.”

“Thank you.”

Xing rang the small copper bell sitting in the middle of the table. Head Servant Yu scampered into the room.

“Wine.”

“Yes, master.”

Magistrate Shang saw the contempt on his wife’s face but let it pass. It had been a long morning and he felt as if he deserved a drink. Priest Shan sat forward eagerly as Head Servant Yu returned with a clay jug of wine, and three clay cups. He placed a glazed red cup in front of each of them, and went to pour each glass. When he reached Yin Hou, she turned down the offer. Yu smiled and left the room quietly, leaving the jug next to the magistrate. Shang Xing and Priest Shan looked at each other and drank their glass before Xing filled them up again.

“Now, onto our business. We have a decision to make.”

Xing saw both sets of eyes watching him like birds of prey.

“The usurper, Guo Xue. The great Guo Xue as you’d have him, Priest Shan. He offered me a deal.”

“The terms?” Priest Shan cut in.

Xing caught another glare from Yin Hou towards the priest.

“The terms are our unconditional surrender to Guo Xue, and a pledge of fealty to him. Our county taxes would be routed to Shaozou, which is Guo Xue’s temporary capital, and our soldiers would await instructions on where to march. They would likely head southwest towards Ganyang.”

Xing sipped from his cup and let the words linger in the air. He waited for either to bite.

“And in return?” the priest asked, eagerly.

“And in return… I would join his council, appoint a new magistrate of the county, and move to Shaozou. I would be named Minister Shang of Works.”

Priest Shan gasped; Yin Hou watched him closely, without expression.

“My liege,” Priest Shan bowed his head slightly, “What a wonderful honor. A chance to become a minister.”

“But you won’t take it, will you,” Hou said, coldly.

Shang Xing sipped from his cup again. The wine burned going down his throat.

“It’s treason,” Xing replied, “There is no minister position because Guo Xue is not an emperor.”

“Not yet,” Priest Shan replied, “But things are in motion. Surely you see it.”

“He sees it,” Hou added, “He just doesn’t want it to be true.”

“If you have no honor what do you have,” the magistrate glared at his wife now.

“At least I have ambition,” Hou replied.

Shang Xing slammed his cup onto the ground; pieces splintered across the floor.

“Enough!”

Yin Hou sat back in her chair. Magistrate Shang ran his copper bell again.

“If you want another cup you can have mine,” Hou slid her cup across the table.

Xing batted it away and it crashed across the wood floor; Hou smiled. Head Servant Yu had no doubt heard the crash and brough Xing a fresh cup at the sound of the bell. Magistrate Xing sat in silence letting the air clear.

“Now, where were we?”

“A decision to be made, sir,” Priest Shan replied.

“Right. Well, what would you do? I have a feeling I know.”

Priest Shan smiled, “Sire, as I mentioned, the pieces are in motion. Governor Guo secured the farmlands swiftly before marching across the east to no resistance. Emperor Xiao Tian had no idea what Guo Xue was doing until it was too late. Guo Xue has the crops to sustain his armies, and much of the coastline. Xiao Tian’s generals can’t cut him off at sea.”

“I am aware.”

“We sit between his forces in the east and the capital. If we don’t join him, what’s stopping his army from crashing across us on his way to flank Ganyang?”

“Surely Xiao Tian’s generals won’t give up their flank easily.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Emperor Xiao’s men march into the grasslands to his north. He wants the crops back. If he can’t feed his armies, he can’t control them. He knows this. For now he’ll be content to hold the line between here and the east.”

Xing agreed with Priest Shan but kept that to himself.

“And if I take the deal? And the Emperor’s men march here to put us to the sword?”

“He won’t have enough men,” Prist Shan replied, “All reports said the bulk of his forces are heading to the heart of the countryside.”

Xing poured himself another glass, and took a sip. He watched the Priest’s eager eyes on his cup.

“And who would I name the new magistrate in my position, Priest Shan? Who would be the wise choice?”

Yin Hou laughed from her seat across the table.

“Is something funny? Xing asked.

Hou’s beauty made her smirk all the more annoying.

“I think we know who Priest Shan would name as magistrate.”

“Enlighten me,” the priest replied.

“She’s implying you would name yourself, Priest Shan.”

Priest Shan feigned surprise, “What? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

Xing laughed with Hou this time.

“Well, I suppose it would make some sense,” the priest continued, “I counseled with you for many years now. I know the county inside and out. I never imagined myself a magistrate but it just might work.”

Priest Shan looked away as if pretending to only now consider this.

Shang Xing turned back to his wife now, “And you? Who would you appoint?”

“Appoint the priest,” she replied.

“Thank you, my lady,” Priest Shan bowed slightly.

“He’s corrupt but he’d be as good as any. And you have his loyalty.”

Priest Shan gasped, “Corrupt?”

“I’m surprised; I thought you two don’t get along.”

“He’d do the job,” Hou said, “But aren’t you interested in knowing what I think?”

“About?”

“About the offer?”

“I know what you think, already.”

“I think you’d be a fool not to accept.”

Xing sighed, “Priest Shan, leave us please. Thank you for your counsel.”

Priest Shan stood up slowly, and held out his cup, “A toast, in your honor, sire.”

You just want more wine.

Shang Xing poured the priest’s cup, and then his own.

“To a long and prosperous future, wherever that may be,” the priest said before drinking his cup.

Xing finished his cup, and waited for the old man to leave the room. When the door closed he turned back to Yin Hou.

“Do you understand the position this puts me in?”

“A very powerful position,” Hou replied, dryly.

Xing scoffed, “No, not that. I mean—”

“I know what you mean.”

“Then you understand why I cannot live at Shaozou with Guo Xue.”

“You’re making too big of a deal out of it.”

“You dishonored me!”

Hou rolled her eyes, “It was one occasion. What was I supposed to do? Refuse one of the most powerful men in the Xiao Empire? And now look; it’s gotten you a position as Minister.”

“The position was offered to me on merit.”

Hou smiled, “You don’t think Guo Xue just wants me closer to him?”

Xing slammed his fist on the table; he felt his face burning hot.

“This is not some joke.”

“Then stop acting like it is. Honor? Treason? What are you talking about Xing? The world revolves on power; who has it, and who wants it. Emperor Xiao had it, Governor Guo wanted it. Do you want it? Reach out and take it; it’s right there!”

Shang Xing sat back in his chair.

“Xing.”

Hou stood up and walked around the table, kneeling beside him. She held his hand gently.

“Xing. I’m sorry that happened. I had to make a choice. If I rebuffed him, who knows what could have happened to us; to Xie. And now imagine Xie growing up at the Emperor’s court alongside Guo’s own sons. He would have anything he wanted in this world.”

Xing pictured his young son play-fighting with Guo Xue’s boys in the courtyards of Shaozou. He imagined Xie, now a young man, commanding a company in the Emperor’s armies. He thought forward even further, and imagined his son as a great general, destined to be remembered in the histories. And still, it stung. The idea of taking orders from Guo Xue, and knowing that if he wanted Hou again, he would take her.

Xing pulled his hand away, “Treason is real, Hou. I made an oath to the Emperor. I pledged my fealty. What would my word be worth as a turncloak?”

“What is your word worth as a lowly magistrate?”

Hou stood up, and quietly left the room.

Xing sat in silence for a long time, slowly sipping the sorghum wine. His mind wandered here and there. He imagined his son Xie as a general again; leading a campaign against some Guantzu rebellion. Better yet, he imagined a campaign into the Heguri territory to secure the Red River once and for all. Xing imagined his son’s children being born at court. But his mind brought him back to Guo Xue and Yin Hou, and the night they spent together.

All these years, I’ve stayed faithful to you. All these years when I could have taken a concubine, or traveled to a brothel, or had any woman I wanted in this county. I am a fool for love.

Shang Xing rang his copper bell. Head Servant Yu’s footsteps entered from over his right shoulder.

“Yes, sire?”

Xing looked back at the plump head servant.

“You’ve offered before, to find me… to bring me a girl. From one of the houses in town.”

Yu’s eyes widened, “Oh. Oh yes, I see. Yes.”

“Bring me one.”

“Of course, sire. There is a new Madame in town who promises the best.”

“Good.”

“To your chambers?”

“Yes. And more wine.

“Of course.”

Yu walked out of the front door, and into the courtyard from where Xing entered. Xing stood up slowly, and turned towards the back of the room.

Tonight, I get payback. Just once. Then we take the offer. Minister Shang sounds nice, after all.

Xing lit the incense in his chambers, and removed his tunic. His roomed was lit with soft light from the oil lamps. The magistrate splashed water from the open basin across his chest, and neck, and washed his hair. Xing let the hair fall down over his shoulders, and combed it carefully. He was getting on in years, but his hair was still black as the darkest night. A jug of wine had been waiting for him, and he sipped his cup slowly. Each sip burned as it went down. He felt the alcohol begin to numb his senses. Xing stared into the mirror quietly.

He heard the creak of the door over his shoulder, and turned. Head Servant Yu stood at the door with a woman on his arm. She was short, full figured, and well proportioned. Her face was symmetrical with brown eyes. Her blacked hair was tied up into a knot with silk. She smiled at him and looked away.

This will do.

“Thank you, Head Servant,” Xing said.

“Of course,” Yu bowed, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

The woman stood in her black silk blouse and skirt. She looked down at the floor.

“Come closer.” Xing beckoned.

Slowly, she padded across the room like a nervous animal.

Not everyday your client is the magistrate of the county. I suppose the girl is nervous.

“What’s your name?”

“He,” the girl said, “Duan He.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Xing replied, “For a beautiful woman.”

He’s face flushed red as she smiled. Her eyes met Xing’s.

“Come closer,” Xing asked again.

Duan He walked closer still, until she was only a few yards away.

“Would you like a drink?”

Duan He nodded, and Xing handed her his cup. She took a sip and made a funny face.

Women struggle to handle their liquor. Best not give her too much.

“What do you think? One of the finest brewers in the county. His operation is not far from here. Men travel great distances for that wine.”

“It’s perfect,” she said.

Xing took her hand, and led her over to his bed. The wooden frame creaked as they sat down. He felt nervous being with another woman. Xing felt silly; like he was a teenager all over again. He watched Duan He stare into his eyes now. Her gaze was soft, and gentle.

Slowly, Xing put his hand on her thigh and leaned in to kiss her. Her warm lips kissed him back eagerly and Xing smelled the wine on her breath. He felt her fingers undoing the sash on his robe, and suddenly he was nude. She gently pushed him back onto the bed. Xing moved onto his back as Duan He advanced onto him. She removed her skirt, but left her blouse on. Xing stared at the black patch of hair between her legs as she straddled him.

“Wait,” he gasped as she held him in her hand.

“Close your eyes,” the girl whispered.

“I don’t—”

“Close your eyes, and I’ll take care of you.”

Xing looked into Duan He’s soft eyes, staring at him.

Why not?

The magistrate closed his eyes and laid back onto his bedding.

“There you go,” she said quietly.

Suddenly, Xing felt a sharp pain across his neck. It felt as if a hot iron seared his throat. He opened his eyes again, and his hand grasped for his neck. Hot liquid shot across him as he gasped for air. It was red; it was blood. Xing held his hand to his neck as the blood spilled out. He looked up at the girl; she smiled softly. The last thing the magistrate saw was the jagged piece of glass in her hand, covered in his blood. He watched her drive it into his chest; and the pain was sharp, and severe.