Part 42 (1/2)

The guards ran, skidded around the corner, hit the railings and left them in sole possession of the porch and the burning wagon.

”Beijun!” he yelled into the lighted hall-the way he would call the boy-heir twenty years ago. ”Beijun, dammit!”

Forgetting all the years and the t.i.tles.

”Beijun!”

”Shoka!” the Emperor cried-came staggering out from beside the door, robes askew, lost in the weight of brocade and gilt.

Like the d.a.m.n fool horses, hiding in a burning building, with the open gate in front of him.

”Master!” Taizu yelled from behind. He turned, twisted away with the sight of a dozen men rolling across his vision as he hit the boards with his shoulders and came up again in a charge at the men who came at him from the courtyard.

He could not make it, he thought, while the sword was swinging, not so many, not with a trap closed on them. He trusted Taizu to get Beijun off the porch, to follow him to the gate and hope to h.e.l.l he had not cleared the way only to more of them. He stopped thinking then. He killed, anything, everything in his path.

That was all he could do, the last he could do, with his knee threatening to give, his lungs shooting fire and his shoulders going numb from strain and repeated shocks.

Get to the gate.

Get the way open.

For Taizu and Beijun behind him. . . .

Someone shouted at his back. No stopping.Her business. He was engaged on two fronts as it was,desperately extended himself to cripple a man, to finish his partner, to jump clear and swing at the man who was trying to hamstring him. . . .

He spun in that move and in a pa.s.sing blink saw Beijun running and Taizu running in front of a band of men coming around the corner of the porch.

He spun on around, dodged again and killed his man in a desperate, awkward strike, completely off his balance. He caught it again with a tearing pain in his leg as he turned, as Beijun grabbed him and swung behind him, Taizu lagging back with a trio of enemies pelting off the porch after her.

Going for her back. He ran and yelled, but she was already turning-she caught an attack on her blade, canted parry, but not in balance.

She sprawled-and did that d.a.m.ned stop-thrust, right up under her enemy's armor-skirts- Shoka got the one behind, with no more grace. And the one after. There were four dead men on the terrace. Her doing. He staggered aside and grabbed Taizu's shoulder as she gained her feet and stood watching the man squirming on the ground.

”Gitu,” she said, shaking free of his hand.

And killed what was still trying to live, a simple beheading stroke.

Shoka caught his breath, reached out for her, held her by the arm.

Riders were coming, hooves on cobblestone, shadowy figures filling the gateway and pouring inside.

”Beijun,” Shoka yelled, shoving Taizu for the garden, toward shadows and the escape of the scullery gate.

She grabbed him by the sleeve, pulling at him to run with her.

But the banners of the invaders were black and white. Reidi's lotus emblem. Shoka let his sword-arm fall, let the fingers relax. It was about the limit he could go, just to stand there, but he walked forward, bowed to his Emperor, bowed to lord Reidi, everything in good form.

Reidi climbed down and made his respectful obeisances. Beijun babbled something about lord Gitu, treason, and the affront to his person. The fire and the shadows swam in Shoka's eyes, and he trusted himself only to little, familiar motions, flicked his sword clean and wiped its hilt and put it in its sheath.

G.o.ds, there was too much blood on him.

And Taizu-white spattered with dark- A railing crashed in fire on the terrace, startling everyone. A pillar followed. Reidi ordered a detail of men to fetch buckets and axes and prevent it spreading.

Beijun came and thanked him-”They made me go along with them,” Beijun said, ”they lied to me-Shoka, believe me-”

He wanted a bath. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to be anywhere else. He looked around when he could do it without offending the Emperor. Taizu was not where he had left her. He sweated, decided shewas sitting down, somewhere inconspicuous in the gardens, sparing herself this babble of power-mongering and ephemeral grat.i.tude.

”Excuse me,” he finally said, no longer caring whom he offended. ”Excuse me, my wife's somewhere around here-”

The roads were scantly trafficked yet. The smell of smoke was still in the air, and a woman trekking the road down to Choedri, even a ragged peasant with flour in her hair, had reason to worry; but Taizu carried her sword to hand, wrapped up in the bundle of rags on her back, just a rag-wrapped hilt where she could get to it in a hurry if she had to.

Not that there was much magistrate's justice to worry about. Just the occasional soldiers.

A band had followed her last night, and she had worried. She worried now, when she looked back and found riders coming up behind her.

But: ”M'lady,” they said when they came up even with her. ”Youare lady Taizu.”