While they didn’t get to Yu lands as fast as they might have in more favourable weather, the Dreadnaught still made good time to the coast. On the advice of Admiral Kiau, Sang and Kaji disguised themselves as ashigaru. The plan was to ride with him and his son for Tokai so they could avoid any awkward questions as to why they were off in Jin lands when the Emperor was soon due to arrive. The admiral had even organised a long wooden box fashioned while on the ship, which Sang used to conceal Lord Yu’s Blade. She didn’t really like the idea of hiding it, much less herself, but had no good explanation to give for being on Wuhai rather than coming back through the Wall.
She couldn’t very well say that R had transported them there.
So it was that she and Kaji, Admiral Kiau and Nobutada, General Yosuke, Kuni Senji and Shanro acquired horses and travelled west along the highway. They would reach Tokai in two or three days, leaving plenty of time to prepare for the Emperor’s arrival unless something happened.
And, of course, something did happen.
Part way through their first day on the road, Kaji suddenly reined in, stared at nothing and swore heatedly.
“Typhenon just spoke to me,” he said. “The Emperor is arriving this evening. He’s early!”
He kicked his horse into a gallop and everyone followed suit, striving for the greatest speed they could. Sang did some quick thinking of the distance they had to travel and the geography and bit down on a curse of her own. She could be late as she was theoretically still on her quest for Lord Yu’s Blade, but Kaji was meant to be in Tokai. If he wasn’t there to greet the Emperor it would be disastrous.
“We’ll never make it!” Sang shouted. “Even if we stop at every village along the way and swap horses—if they have horses worth riding—it’ll be too late!” Realising Kaji’s horse was slowing, Sang pulled back on the reins to keep level with him.
“Typhenon again,” he said after a short pause. “He says he’s going to meet us on the road to hasten our arrival.”
It was mid-afternoon and they were riding hard when someone first noticed the green dragon flying from the west and angling in their direction. They slowed and stopped their tired horses and Sang gave instructions to be ready for trouble but not to attack unless attacked. She had only known one green dragon, and if this was him then they were in for a fight.
But it was too small to be the same one, and as it descended in wide spirals Kaji pointed out a smaller flying beast, white and gold with a man on its back.
“That will be Typhenon,” Sang said, relieved. “But when did he pick up a dragon?”
Kaji squinted. “Looks like… Glint of Rising Sun.”
“Who?”
“The house dragon.”
“We have one of those? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He can’t really show himself around the palace, you know. The peasants would get scared.”
The green dragon landed a short distance off the road, folded his wings and stalked forwards with head raised to sniff the air. Shrewd, shining eyes flickered from face to face, then he drew one foreclaw back and bowed to Kaji and Sang. “Majesties.”
Sang repressed a grimace at being recognised and untied her menpo before nodding in return. “Glint of Rising Sun.”
“This foreigner—“ with a twitch of his tail Glint indicated Typhenon, who had just touched down in a rush of hippogriff feathers, “—claims to be on a mission from Lord Kaji.”
Sang glanced to her husband, expecting him to answer before she remembered he’d put her in charge of this expedition. She looked back at Glint. “He is. I believe he has come to hasten our return to Tokai.”
“Ah?” The dragon raised both scaled brows. “Then I will offer my assistance there also.”
Sang considered. “How successful do you think you’d be in carrying my Lord husband to Lord Yu’s Temple unseen?”
Glint’s chuckled in amusement for a moment, then said, “If he lies close to my back, I’m sure people will be far more interested in me then whoever I am bearing.”
A couple of minutes later Kaji and Glint were gone, a shining streak of green speeding westwards.
“Thank you for this,” Sang said to Typhenon. “I don’t like to think about what might happen if we were late.”
“Happy to help,” he said. “How do you want to do this? I won’t be able to get you in unseen.”
“Kaji was the important one to get back,” Sang mused aloud, “but I would prefer to be there with him when the Emperor arrives.” She glanced down at her disguise. “We had a plan, but I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” She explained what they’d been going to do.
“So you need an excuse for being on Wuhai,” Typhenon said. “The Shadowlands can turn you around a bit, can’t they?”
“Usually not over the Wall—no, wait… there is precedent! Remember the Yu patrol we ran into in the south? They’d been scouting north of the Wall near Tokai and somehow been transported south of Epiac!”
Typhenon nodded. “The land down there was Tainted. It was acting as separate Shadowlands pocket, like the patch in the city.”
Admiral Kiau spoke up. “King Yoritomo of the Jin thought the monster infestation on Wuhai had been a result of Taint. That’s why he sent word to the Yu accusing us of not doing our job.”
“So the Shadowlands brought my people and I to Wuhai,” Sang said. “Which is true.”
It is just misdirection. Wuhai was not actually Tainted, but after what happened there people will think that it was. I’d rather they believe that than hear about R.
“We assisted in liberating the island,” she continued, “then Admiral Kiau sailed us back to Yu lands and accompanied us to Tokai.”
“Perfect.” Typhenon turned, murmured something, and enough hippogriffs to transport the entire group appeared before him. “So you don’t need that disguise anymore?”
They flew fast and close to the ground. Sang had most of her usual armour on, enough that she’d be recognised, and carried Lord Yu’s Blade openly in one hand out to the side of her steed. The landscape swept past them and Typhenon said it would only take them three hours to reach the gates of Tokai.
“I spoke to Isadora, by the way,” he called to her as they travelled.
“How is she?” Sang asked cautiously.
“Concerning. I’m worried about her.”
“You’re not the only one. When we last spoke—“ Sang shook her head. “Typhenon, at first I worried she’d need protection.” Aware that they were not alone, and that the Kuni with them might hear her words, she said only, “If she’s doing anyone harm, I will have to ask Garreth to recall her.”
“I understand.”
I have to try and talk to her again. I have to find the time. I don’t want to just send her packing, I want to help her. I just don’t know how. Especially if she doesn’t think she needs help.
When they arrived at Tokai a detachment of guards came out on horseback. The leader bowed to her from his saddle, said that the King had sent them to meet her (Sang supposed Glint could have ‘advised Kaji of Sang’s imminent arrival’ when he’d flown to Lord Yu’s Temple) and proceeded to escort the party into the city and towards the castle. As they progressed, Sang became aware of cheering and a growing throng of people following them through the streets.
“Lord Yu’s Blade! It’s been found!”
Sang rode on, observed the celebrations in passing and felt very odd. This was no formal gathering of lesser subjects to welcome home a superior, but impromptu. Spontaneous. She didn’t know if they cheered her, her party, or simply the presence of Lord Yu’s Blade, but beneath the shouts of triumph there was something genuine and rare. Maybe joy. Maybe hope. Maybe both.
She thought of all those who had died before they’d reached their goal in the Shadowlands, the others who had survived only to fall on Wuhai, and hoped they could hear the thoughts she now cast to the heavens:
Listen to the cheers of your kin. No matter where you are now, you were a part of this. You helped bring this to them. Hear them and be proud. Be happy and be at peace. You succeeded.
The crowd followed them all the way to the steps leading up to the castle. Sang, Typhenon and the others dismounted (Typhenon dismissed the hippogriffs after thanking them), then ascended to meet Kaji who waited for them at the top. The King looked appropriately scruffy for having spent the last several days in the Temple, pleased to see his Queen returned safe and successful, and greeted them with the formality required for so public a place.
As they all went inside and divided to seek their separate rooms, Sang paused to thank Typhenon again.
“I take it you will be at the welcoming ceremony?” she asked him.
“It’s a bit late to avoid now,” he said. “Your security probably won’t let me leave a second time.”
“Do you need anything to wear?”
“No thanks. I’ve already organised something.”
Sang raised a brow but didn’t ask when he’d had the time to go shopping. Perhaps his embassy had gotten him something appropriate for the occasion. She certainly hoped so. She had no idea what she would be wearing, but was sure it would be uncomfortable and wouldn’t have a place for her to wear her daisho. She was pulled from this depressing turn of mind by the sight of Kaji being accosted by at least a dozen courtiers clutching and waving papers and parchments, each man or woman clamouring that his business was the more important. Sang pressed closer to hear they were basically all panicking about the Emperor’s imminent arrival and wanted Kaji to solve every last problem… right down to supplying the appropriate sort of candles. She shook her head in irritation, barely able to believe they came to their king with matters like this instead of the ministers or even quartermasters. Kaji was already looking harried; Sang stepped in and delegated the problems to the appropriate areas just as servants dragged them both off in different directions to be properly bathed and attired.
Dreading what she’d have to wear, Sang was reluctant almost to the point of being uncooperative as maids attempted to remove her armour and hustle her to a bath. But as soon as the first drop of heated water washed over her skin everything else drifted pleasantly away. As she lazed blissfully in the hot bath the servants got to work washing her hair, and when she emerged she was dried and massaged with scented oils. Sang didn’t even notice the oils—the massage was much needed. A pity it, and the bath, couldn’t have gone for longer. First her hair was styled. When the head hairdresser realised that not even his best scissors could cut even a single strand of Sang’s hair, he went to the verge of panic before asking Sang if she’d prefer a single long braid or lots of thin ones. Sang opted for the easiest and fastest choice, deciding that one braid would be easier to brush out at the end of the day. But if she thought she’d gotten away with simplicity, she was mistaken. Into each link of the braid was inserted a decorative silver bell, so that whenever she turned her head she sounded like a walking wind-chime. At least the braid kept her hair a few inches above the floor though.
Then came the clothes. It was inappropriate for the Queen of the Yu, a defender of the Wall and now Champion of Lord Yu to meet the Emperor in the impressive array of her armour with a blue-burning guan dao in hand. Sang grumbled about this to herself, suffering the maids to start wrapping her in the layers of a full formal kimono. Shift, blue velvet under-shirt, the kimono itself (a deep purple creation with sleeves so deep they touched the ground, and accented with thin white trees and leaves rising above the hem and birds winging across the breast), a broad white obi wrapped twice around her midsection to display the mon at the centre front and tie at her back, purple slippers with winking silver embroidery. And lastly a jade circlet crafted to resemble the Wall complete with warriors patrolling the top. From it was suspended a thin chain bearing a single amethyst that rested on her brow.
Sang tried not to scowl at her reflection in the mirror. Even though everything fit perfectly, even though it might look all right, it was unfamiliar and uncomfortable and she longed for simpler clothes or, better yet, steel instead of silk. The Yu were well-known for not bothering overmuch with ceremony, but the Emperor was the Emperor—they had to make the effort for him.
Oh Fortunes… the Emperor…
Clothes were forgotten. Sang made her way outside her rooms, unable to walk very fast due to the design of the kimono but too distracted to even be irritated by it. She had worried for days about this moment, about whether it was right to uphold the deception of the Emperor’s divinity. She didn’t think it was, but didn’t see that she had much choice. All the truth would do at this point in time is get a lot of people angry, confused, and possibly killed. A public uproar had to be avoided. That meant maintaining the lie.
