Sir Apropos - Tong Lashing Part 27

"Through here," she said.

I had no idea where she was pointing. I couldn't see a d.a.m.ned thing. "Where?" I said.

I felt her placing her hands upon my shoulders and guiding me slowly forward. I kept my walking staff extended, like a blind man with his cane, waiting for it to b.u.mp into a wall so I would know when to stop walking. But it encountered no obstruction. Instead I kept moving and, within moments, was off the street entirely. I was completely surrounded by blackness. No air currents were moving about me; I was in some sort of structure, but how big it was or what it looked like, I couldn't even begin to guess.

"Mitsu?" I called out softly.

No answer.

"Mit--?"

And then that scent wafted toward me. That singular, incredible scent. My skin tingled just from the slightest hint of it. I felt as if it was lifting me up, up off my feet, sending me soaring above the city. As if I could touch the heavens just buoyed by it.

"So... you've proven your loyalty."

It was she. Her voice was coming from just ahead of me. I moved in the direction of where I thought it was coming from and just ahead there was the gentle flickering of light. More candles. The Forked Tong apparently used more candles than everyone else in Chinpan put together.

I took several deep breaths to clear my mind. It was essential that I not let my infatuation--or was it obsession--with Veruh w.a.n.g Ho cloud my judgment. "You deduce that because Mitsu brought me here."

"Yes." "Are more of the sisters here?"

"No. We are alone."

I listened carefully, my hearing as sharp as ever. I was reasonably sure she was telling the truth. I could detect no one else around.

The twinkling illumination made it easier for me to see the doorway of the room just ahead. One more deep breath, and then I entered the room.

Veruh w.a.n.g Ho was seated cross-legged upon the floor. As opposed to the far more elaborate garb she had sported when I had first encountered her, now she was outfitted in a simple white kimono. Her face was still delicately made-up, though, her hair elaborately piled atop her head.

That first rush of pa.s.sion I felt for her paled in comparison to what I felt for her now. That same giddy, intoxicating rush of sensation.

There was a small table in front of her with the now-familiar sight of tea set up. Two cups were upon the table on opposite sides. The steeping tea was in the middle. She gestured for me to sit, and I did so.

It was something of a relief. In her presence, I was literally becoming weak in the knees. It would hardly be the height of manliness to collapse in front of her.

"I confess," she said softly, "I am glad. Very... very glad."

"Really. Why would that be?"

The edges of her mouth upturned slightly, and there was amus.e.m.e.nt in her dark brown eyes. "Why do you think?"

"I couldn't begin to guess."

"To guess? Or to hope?"

The truth was the latter rather than the former, but I did not trust myself to speak. For someone who had spent a lifetime being glib, I was atypically tongue-tied.

She poured the tea into my cup, then into hers. I reminded myself that the woman was evil--which, granted, was part of what I found so attractive--and did not make a move for my cup. She saw that I was allowing it to sit there, and appeared most amused by my caution. Without comment, she lifted her own cup and delicately sipped from it. I noticed a small bit of her bright red lipstick was rubbing off on the inside of the cup. I sipped from mine as well at that point.

"What would you know, Apropos?" she asked.

I lowered my gla.s.s. "Know?"

"Would you know the truth? Or would you know me?"

I quickly put the cup down, because I could feel my hands starting to tremble. "Know you... in what sense?" She did not answer immediately, instead prolonging the delightful agony by simply sipping more tea.

Then she held it a few inches from her face and the smile widened ever so slightly. "Apropos... we are aware, we two."

"Aware?" I asked guardedly.

"Yes." Her voice continued in its lyric grace. "There are very few people in this world who are aware of the truth of things. Who see the world for what it is, and what it isn't. People with true clarity of vision.

And when two such encounter each other, there is an instant attraction. You must have felt it. Do not bother to deny it."

"I..." My voice felt thick and heavy, as if coated with tar. "I... don't deny it..."

She nodded slightly, apparently approving. "You want to know why events of recent vintage have happened. You also want to know me... in every sense of the word 'know.' You may have either or.

Choose."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to burst out of my skin. I wanted to clamber across the small table, knock her to her back, and take her right there on the floor of this darkened room.

But I could not allow myself to become totally at the mercy of l.u.s.tful impulses, no matter how gratifying they might be if acted upon. As much as I wanted her, burned for her... there were priorities that needed attending to. Things that simply had to be done.

I wanted her. Desperately. But I, who was one of the most selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in the history of selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, couldn't do it. What I didn't know now could get me killed later.

"Why have these things happened?" I asked. It was the most difficult five words I'd ever uttered together.

Veruh w.a.n.g Ho looked truly surprised. I think there'd been no doubt in her mind that I would forgo all other concerns in favor of satisfying my carnal urges with the woman who might very likely be my true soul mate. Then the surprise gave way to... approval? Yes. She didn't seem upset at all. In fact, it appeared that she was regarding me with something akin to approval.

"Very well," she said. "Let us be specific, then. What do you wish to know?"

I decided to speak forcefully and, even more important, quickly. Who knew if she might change her mind and feel that I had somehow insulted her by making the choice that I had. "Mitsu resides within the palace," I said. "As does the most obvious enemy that the Forked Tong has. I understand Mitsu's rejection of the notion that she a.s.sa.s.sinate her own father. On the other hand, I suspect her loyalty to your organization would have prompted her to obey you if you ordered her to do it. Furthermore, with her there, she could very likely facilitate your getting your own agents and a.s.sa.s.sins within the palace walls. In short, if you wanted the Imperior dead, then he would be dead. Yet he lives. What am I to conclude from that?"

"You seem to be under the impression that the Imperior would die as do other men."

That stopped me short. "Well... why would he not? Is he not like other men?"

"No. He is a shennong." "A what?" The word was completely new to me. I didn't have the faintest idea to what she was referring.

"A shennong. A wielder of sorcerous powers."

"He's a weaver?" I mentally called up an image of the wrinkled little man and tried to comprehend how such a one would possibly be any sort of true magic user. "I don't believe it!"

"It does not matter whether you believe it or not," she said, sounding quite reasonable. Her tea was getting low in its cup and she refreshed it from the pot. She offered it to me and I politely waved her off.

"It is true. Furthermore, he has knowledge that we need. Knowledge both general and specific, which precludes us from simply removing him from the equation... as much as we would like to."

"What 'specific knowledge' are you referring to?"

"Ah... that is not my story to tell." With that, she sipped more from her newly replenished cup. "The point is, if we were able to kill him by treachery, it still would not serve our needs. Plus the military might he wields is vast. Greater than we can readily combat on our own. So because of the nature of our opponent, and the magicks and might he wields, we had sought help in dealing with him. We thought we had found it. We had heard tell of a vastly powerful magician from a distant, foreign land. A round-eyed individual, similar to yourself. We had learned that he would be traveling by boat to a land some distance from here, known as 'Azure.' We sent an emissary to meet him there. It was our intention to enlist his aid and bring him here to defeat the Imperior. But the famed sorcerer never arrived in Azure. As of this point, the vessel he was coming aboard is so overdue that it is generally believed his s.h.i.+p was lost in the crossing."

"Uh... huh," I said slowly. "And this, uhm... this sorcerer. What would his, uh, his name be... just out of curiosity?"

"An odd name, actually. Almost as odd as yours. He was known as Ronnell McDonnell of--"

"--the Clan McDonnell," I finished.

With eyebrow arched, she said, "You've heard of him."

"In pa.s.sing, yes. I, uhm..." I coughed loudly. "I think a.s.suming him lost at sea by this point is probably a wise idea. It's, uh... been a long time."

"Yes. And so we have taken other measures."

"What other measures?"

She placed the cup of tea down gently and then smiled with grim satisfaction. "It has taken us years to reach a point of mutual trust and respect with them, but we have done so."

"Them?" I felt as if all I was doing was echoing what she was saying. Then again, I so adored every perfect word that came from those perfect lips, that it didn't bother me.

She nodded. "'Them' being the Mingol hordes, a fierce tribe that lives to the west of our land, beyond the outer provinces. Very soon, they will come swarming over the hills of Chinpan, and overwhelm theImperior's army."

"Are they of sufficient number to do so?"

"They are. With their help, we will be able to attend to the physical defenses. But we still require help against the Imperior himself... help that you can provide."

That did not seem terribly likely to me. "I can? What can I do?"

"What would you do for me if I asked?"

I didn't hesitate. "Anything. Anything you asked, anything you desired. Anything within my ability."

She leaned forward. Her breath was upon my face, and it had the same sweet honeysuckle smell as her skin.

"Do you trust me?" she whispered.

And once more, I didn't hesitate. "No," I said.

The word had popped out before I even realized it. My eyes were half-lidded, but they snapped open as I realized the unexpected, and potentially crus.h.i.+ng, honesty of my answer. I looked into her face to see her response, which I was certain would be roiling fury.

Instead she laughed.

"Well said," she told me. "You know me well. Had you said 'yes,' I would have felt most sorry for you. Perhaps I might even have done away with you, in a fit of pique. One never knows what I might do." She reached over and ran a tapering finger along the line of my chin. I trembled at her gentle touch.

"But you! You always know just what to say, don't you."

"It's how I've managed to survive," I replied.

"Yes. Yes, a survivor you are, and shall be. I see that in you. Just as I also see in you the potential mystic edge that we need to overcome the Imperior. It is that edge that has made you such a priority with us."

I knew it before she said it. "The sword," I said, my hand resting upon the bird-headed hilt of the weapon hanging at my waist. "The tachi sword."

She nodded. "You are the bearer of the demon sword."

The phrasing surprised me. "The what?"

"k.u.magatu, the demon sword. You've no clue, Apropos, how long it had been sought. You hold there a blade of legend and mystery. A blade that has pa.s.sed from owner to owner, leaving devastation and death in its wake. It is said that the blade was spat up one day centuries ago from the very bowels of h.e.l.l, emerging from an active volcano. That it landed in the hands of a powerful shennong who was appalled by the amount of power it possessed, and managed to bind it and harness it."

To say I was extremely nervous by that point would be to understate it. Here I'd had this d.a.m.nedthing--this literally d.a.m.ned thing--hanging at my side all this time, and I was suddenly discovering that it was the deadliest weapon in the country. I had already figured out they were after the sword, and that it might even have had some sort of power of its own. But the level of what she was describing bordered on the terrifying. Demons? Volcanoes? Spat up from the bowels of h.e.l.l? I knew a little something about mystical talismans, and that little something was that whatever power they possessed sooner or later turned around and bit you on the a.s.s. Considering what she was describing, this one could rip off my entire backside with one chew.

My impulse was to rip it off my belt and shout, "Here! Take the b.l.o.o.d.y sword!" But I resisted it because, as I had just admitted, I didn't trust her. And as long as I had something she wanted, I figured I was safe... although "safe" was a very relative word under the circ.u.mstances.

My mouth moved, but no sound came out. I cleared my throat and this time managed to say, "Bind and... and harness it?"

"Yes. With potent magicks that remain to this day. Even so, the shennong yielded to the temptation to use it, and its power consumed him. Since that time, it had been lost for ages. But it was finally tracked down by the Anais Ninjas of the Skang Kei, in the possession of a madman named Ali."

I bristled upon hearing that. It didn't matter how enamored I was of her. I was not going to tolerate such words. "He was no madman," I said heatedly. "He was my teacher, a great fighter..."

She laughed at that, and then she saw the anger in my face. Immediately she looked contrite, as if sorry that she was causing me pain. "Oh... oh, sweet Apropos," she said, and then she leaned forward and her lips brushed against mine.

I trembled upon the contact, but resisted the urge to lose myself, to give in to the pulsing urgency within me. Instead, with superhuman effort, I remained focused and insisted, "He was... a great man... a great fighter..."

"I do not say this to hurt you, because I understand your devotion to him, and in a way it is touching.

But you must understand... he was no fighter. He was a senile lunatic. Everyone knew it, even the people of his own village. But it pleased them to delude themselves into thinking that he was a great and wise man. Furthermore, they knew that he wielded a devastating power. But they had no desire to bring that power down upon themselves, so it was within their interest to cater to it. That power, of course, being the sword. Ali stumbled upon the magic words which had bound the sword, and they enabled him to harness its might. Without those magic words, the sword is simply an ordinary sword."

"That's why you sent your shadow sisters. But if they needed to know these magic words in order to wield the sword, why did they kill him?"

"They didn't."

"Don't tell me that," I said angrily. "I saw with my own eyes..."

"What? His body?"

"Yes!"

"And the wounds?" "I..."

I searched my memory, tried to recall where on his body he had been stabbed. I couldn't recall.

"He... was lying flat on his stomach. So he was probably stabbed through the chest or--"

"Did you see blood pooling beneath him?"

"Well... no. But..."

"Apropos," she said gently, "the sisters did not kill him. To become possessor of the blade was not enough. We needed those magic words. But when he was confronted by the sisters, Ali had some sort of attack. His heart, perhaps, or something within his brain... we do not know. All we know is that one moment he was facing the sisters, and the next, he had collapsed. When they checked his body, they found he was dead." Softly, she added, "If it is of any consolation, the sisters are reasonably sure he did not suffer. The end was... was very quick."