against the risk. The only reason for any man to do anything in these lands.” She blinked, eyes focusing on him with a dangerous intensity. “Is it guilt that compels you to speak to me? Be assured it means nothing. My father’s own decisions led to his end, but I live in defiance of his authority because of you. I live in disgrace because of you. Now I am a mere slave to the Merchant King. Because of you!”
She had half risen in her anger, staff clutched in a tight grip, but froze at the sound of a sword hissing from a sheath to her rear.
“Has this criminal offended you, lord?” Tsai Lin asked, moving to stand over Chien with his sword raised in a two-handed grip. Vaelin judged his stance to be perfect, the blade held at just the right angle to sever Chien’s head from her shoulders.
“Not at all,” Vaelin said.
The Dai Lo gave a cautious nod and retreated a few steps, lowering but not sheathing his sword. Vaelin watched Chien settle back, deliberately forcing her gaze away from Vaelin.
“If you wished death,” he said, “why not simply refuse the Merchant King’s command?”
“I have three younger sisters. Unlike me they were not required to undertake employment in the family enterprise. Instead, my father sent them to an expensive school in Hahn-Shi where they will be prepared for marriage to husbands of high rank and wealth. The Merchant King agreed to fund their education and left me in little doubt as to their fate should I refuse to accompany you on this absurd mission.”
Debts owed and paid, Vaelin thought. Profit weighed against risk. “Was that his only command?” he enquired. “I imagine there was more to his bargain.”
“If you die without recovering the Jade Princess, then so do I, and so do my sisters.”
Janus would’ve been impressed, Vaelin decided. Though he would probably have threatened just one of the sisters.
“I did not speak to you merely to express my guilt,” he said. “I spoke to you because you are part of my company. You may hate me all you wish, but we are bound together on this course and I have little doubt as to the danger that awaits us.” He leaned closer to her, speaking softly in Realm Tongue. “And I’ll make you a bargain of my own. When this is done, there will be a place for you in my lands, and for your sisters.”
He got to his feet. “Come and sit by our fire, eat with us. Though, I make no claims for the quality of the food.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
It required a three-day ride before the increasingly monotonous patchwork of fields gave way to verdant hill country. A succession of villages nestled between the hills, rendered picturesque by the numerous clusters of maple and cherry blossom that dominated the landscape. Vaelin was impressed to see that the quality of the road didn’t diminish when it began to snake between the tall grass-covered mounds. The foot messengers continued to pelt past with steady regularity, and the traffic of carts and porters barely diminished.
He resumed Ellese’s lessons every evening, spending two hours teaching her the sword or the bruising intricacies of unarmed combat. Sehmon was a willing sparring partner although Alum insisted he spend at least half the time learning the spear. The Red Scouts regarded all of this with either amusement or open contempt, which occasionally turned to anger at the sight of Ellese wielding a blade.
“A girl with a sword,” one said, a stocky man whose lips had been untidily disordered by an old scar. As a consequence his every word was accompanied by a cloud of spit. “What’s next, barbarian? A pig with a spear?”
Ellese paused in mid-parry, Vaelin watching her features flush with suppressed rage. She still possessed only a rudimentary command of Chu-Shin, but knew enough to recognise an insult, especially when it was accompanied by so much jeering. Taking a breath she resumed her stance, stoically ignoring the ongoing taunts of the spitting man and his fellows.
Vaelin lowered his own sword and stepped close to her, speaking softly, “Sufferance of an insult is sometimes necessary, but not always obligatory.”
She met his gaze, a brief smile of gratitude playing over her lips, before stepping away. She reversed her grip on the yard-long ash stave used in these practice sessions and strode towards the spitting man. His face grew dark at her approach, the jeering of the other Red Scouts fading as