(This is the belated first installment of my entry for the #SwordsofStValentine event. For those interested, this story is set in the same universe as my "The Tale of the White Tiger," but several generations before that story.)
Along the flowing River bright
On either bank a willow stands;
The green leaves reach to touch its mate
Like ancient lovers holding hands.
She stands on her bedroom balcony, gazing up at the River of Heaven. Within its milky expanse, a new star blooms into white flame. Through the portal they come: cruiser, scoutship, destroyer. The ships of the Dragon Fleet. The saviors of the Eight-Thousand Systems. The heroes of Liangshan.
She studies every ship, but her thoughts are on only one.
The drums thundered, for what Wu Song hoped was the last time. Only his sense of duty permitted him to waste time on these ceremonies on the Capitol Planet. They had dealt the rebels a crippling blow, but they were still out there. Huddling in caves on distant worlds. Building new ships down dark eddies of the River of Heaven. The Jianghu rebellion raged on, an offense to the Emperor and to Heaven. The blood of his fallen comrades cried out for justice, and his sword hung dry and thirsty at his side.
“...who without regard for his own safety, did enter into the enemy encampment with the purpose of rescuing his comrades-in-arms held captive there.” The minister’s voice droned over the assembly. “He slew over a dozen of the enemy, including the rebel leader, Zhu Fang, and led the captives to their freedom. For his valor in the face of a superior foe, for saving the lives of so many of the Emperor’s loyal servants, for his service above the call of duty, it is this one’s humble pleasure to fulfill the Imperial decree and award Captain Wu Song of the First Battalion of the Army of Earth the Imperial Order of the Golden Lion. Let all venerate the Dragon Seal.”
As the minster held up the scroll with its dancing red characters at the bottom, a cheer arose around Wu Song. Comrades broke ranks, clapped him on the back, and pushed him forward to the raised dias.
The Order of the Golden Lion? Him?
A minor official helped him up the stairs and hissed the protocol of the rite in his ear. Stand. Bow. Kneel here. He followed the instructions with the precision of an automaton. The scent of jasmine blossoms at last brought him to himself. Before him stood a young noblewoman dressed in the gold and red silks of the Imperial household. Behind her veil, Wu Song caught flashes of bright eyes.
Prostrate yourself before the Great Lady.
Though he placed himself on his stomach, he could not take his eyes from the young woman’s face. The head official’s voice again boomed over the assembly. “To present the Order of the Golden Lion is Great Lady Lei, fourth daughter of the Emperor’s fourth wife.”
The minor official helped him to his knees. Lady Lei inclined over him, the scent of her perfume a midnight garden. Long white fingers took a ribbon from an embroidered pillow.
Bow your head, the minor official hissed. He could not take his eyes from the lady. Your head. Your head.
At last he lowered his gaze. Lady Lei’s fingers brushed against his neck. He willed himself to be perfectly still. The ribbon rested around his neck, the lion emblem handing from it settling against his breast. Certainly the pounding of his heart caused the beast to dance for all to see.
“Let his name be added to the annals for this year of the reign of His Majesty, Lord of Ten Thousand Years: Captain Wu Song, the hero of Liangshan.”
The assembled troops erupted in applause. Wu Song dared another glance at the woman before him. Her eyes shone bright as twin stars.
“Will the hero of Liangshan consent to join this one for tea?”
He could hardly believe he heard her voice at first. Soft and musical as the trill of a qin. Several nearby officials sucked in breaths around their teeth. Such a breach of protocol.
Wu Song bowed his head, though is gaze never left Lady Lei’s face. “This one will gladly perform whatever duty the Great Lady demands of him.”
He stood on the dais for the remainder of the ceremony, trusting himself only to glance occasionally at the section where Lady Lei stood among the assembled noblewomen. As the ceremony at last ended, another minor official led him down the back stairs of the dais. He ignored the disapproving looks of those they passed. The official led him into a cool building and down a softly lit corridor.
An older woman appeared before them, a deep frown on her face. She looked at Wu Song’s sword belt.
“The...gentleman will not take a weapon into the presence of the Great Lady.”
From behind the matron stepped two guards even taller than Wu Song, the soft rolls of their skin indicating eunuchs. Wu Song unbuckled his sword belt and handed the sheathed weapon over. The matron snorted and motioned him inside the palace.
On every wall around him hung a tapestry or a painted scroll. Wu Song recognized some of the scenes as famous views of distant worlds or stories from the restoration of the NeoHan and the creation of the River of Heaven. He even recognized the signature of several of the artists, though he had never seen even reproductions of any of these images. Perhaps they had been created especially for the Imperial Household.
However, he had little time to consider his opulent surroundings, as the matron cleared her throat and began to lecture him in a voice one might use for a wayward schoolchild.
“It is highly irregular that one of your rank should come near the Women’s Palace, much less stand within its walls. Were it not for the express command of the Great Lady, you would not be here. You will be on your best behavior and you will tell no one what you see within the Flowered Pavillion, or there will be consequences.
One of the eunuchs tapped his sword. The matron did not have to spell out the consequences for Wu Song to imagine them. And then the matron slid open a set of doors, and all thoughts of artwork and consequences fled.
He supposed the room was named the Flowered Pavilion from the decorative motifs, but for him, the greatest flower was seated on a low cushion before him. He prostrated himself on the floor.
“You summoned me and I came, Great Lady.”
Lady Lei laughed. “I see that the stories of your gallantry were not exaggerated, Sir Wu. Come. Drink with me.”
A serving maid crept forward bearing a lacquer serving tray. Lady Lei waved her away as soon as she set down the tray.
“Leave.” She glanced around the room. “All of you.”
It seemed the matron might protest at first, but a look from the princess silenced her. Instead, the matron clapped her hands, and all the servants scrambled away. She made sure to give Wu Song a last, telling look before she closed the door on the couple.
Lady Lei laughed again and lifted her veil. It seemed to Wu Song that his heart would stop. He looked away from her eyes.
“I had all sorts of speeches prepared for when I met you, Sir Wu. But now that you sit before me, all my pretty words have flown. How strange.”
“One as lovely as you has no need for ornamented words.”
The compliment seemed inadequate for Lady Lei, so Wu Song fell silent. After a moment, the princess picked up the tea pot and poured two cups. Her hands trembled, but she did not spill any of the tea. She picked up one of the cups with both hands, the porcelain not as delicate as her white fingers, and offered it to him.
He clasped his hands over hers. The warmth of the tea flowed through her into him. Its light aroma danced across his nose. He fell into Lady Lei’s eyes as a ship might sink into the River of Heaven.
Certainly none of the Immortals inhabited a heaven greater than this.
“I feel the same way.”
He did not realize that he had spoken the thought out loud until Lady Lei answered him. She tore his gaze away from his, a rosy blush coloring her cheek.
They drank tea in silence. Each time Wu Song thought to say something, the beauty of his hostess swallowed the words. Finally, the princess broke the silence.
“Where is your sword, Sir Wu?”
He smiled. “Your guardians feared I would do you harm, it seems. I’m sure it rests in good hands.”
“But how unseemly for the Hero of Liangshan to appear without a sword.” She thought for a moment and then clapped her hands. “I know! I have just the thing!”
“Lady?”
She rose and hurried off. “Stay there!” she called over a painted screen. “I’ll be right back!”
And she was gone. Wu Song smiled to himself. Though surrounded with the trappings of Imperial majesty, Lady Lei was just a young woman. A beautiful young woman.
His smile faded. Was he simply a plaything to her? A shining knight to add to her collection, something that at the next minute might be replaced by a new mirror or a lacquered comb?
No. She did not seem the sort. She seemed more the type to give her heart in an instant but give it for always.
She returned and knelt before him, offering with both hands a sword housed in a simple scabbard of leather and unbleached silk.
“For the Hero of Liangshan.”
He took the sword from her. “Thank you, Great Lady. I shall treasure it always.”
The hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips. “Draw the blade.” The look on his face made her laugh. He would play the fool a thousand times a day if only to hear that sound always. “I am in no danger from you. But if you must observe every propriety, you need not draw the blade all the way.”
Wu Song loosened the blade in its sheath, but immediately hesitated. The lights in the room rippled off the steel of the double-edged sword. He looked at the princess in shock.
She laughed and nodded. “Star steel. Go on.”
He could tell at a glance that, despite the simple scabbard, he had never held a finer blade. He unsheathed it further. Stamped on the blade were characters in the dragon script.
Lady Lei slid closer to him. He suppressed a thrill at her proximity. Her finger touched the marks on the sword. “It reads ‘By the hand of Gan Mo.’” She touched a bare spot on the sword. “The place for the name is blank.”
Wu Song blinked, and then pushed away from the princess when he realized the meaning of what she had said. A soulsword by Gan Mo?
“It is the last and greatest work of Master Gan Mo. He died before he could give the blade its name.”
“Great Lady. Highness. It is too much. A blade by Gan Mo? This belongs in the Imperial treasury, not in the hands of a common soldier. I must refuse.”
“Nonsense. What use is a sword unless it defends the Empire? Besides, it is not part of the Imperial treasury. The granddaughter of Master Gan Mo gave it to my mother, and I am giving it to you.”
“Princess...”
“If it disturbs you so much, Sir Wu, consider this a loan. When you have pacified the rebels and restored order to the Eight-Thousand Systems, you may return it to me.”
He studied her eyes for a long moment. Oh, if only he were the man he saw reflected there. He gave a quick nod. “Since you insist, Great Lady.”
“I do.”
Wu Song stood, and Lady Lei fastened the sword belt and scabbard around his waist.
(To be continued...)