Chapter 33: Everyone Follows River’s Instructions and Flees for Their Lives... With Some Extra Steps
I burst into the door of River's estate to find the rooms sacked. Dreadwolf's men had been here, but when? There hadn't been enough time for someone to have so thoroughly turned over the mansion after I had exposed myself to Dreadwolf. If the Demon following me was the first prong of an encirclement maneuver, and this was the second to make sure I couldn't get a message out to Noble Lion without it being traced, I would have stumbled right on the men searching the mansion if I, for some reason, had chosen not to trust River's palace attendant.
Or if I had guessed wrong and thought she meant my quarters here.
I would have liked Windstopper to lead me through the manor, room by room, as I searched for some sign of River, but he was under strict orders he said without elaborating, and sprinted around the manor's exterior walls before I could question him further.
Now, I entered the next room, a Gray Wolf guard's stolen sword held before me; there could have been an assassin waiting behind in any corner, closet, or wardrobe.
But there was no one here. No one waiting in any of the rooms, no small army at the gates waiting to trap me in here… no blood or bodies. There were only two conclusions I could draw from this scene. First, someone had pre-empted me, attacking my home and lifeline, before I had strode into the palace, perhaps even the moment I had left to meet with Noble Lion. Secondly, River had pre-empted them somehow, and dismissed her servants and handmaids, before going into hiding herself.
But where?
It would only be a matter of time before the Demon himself found his way here. My goal now – after having escaped the palace, and not having yet figured out a way to get a message to Noble Lion that wouldn't condemn him – was to get out of the capital, perhaps even all the way back to Iron Tower, where Dreadwolf would be hard pressed to get to us.
But I wouldn't leave the city without River and I'm sure she knew that.
I made my way to her quarters – normally a place that was off limits to me; she would find me within the house when she wanted to spend time with me – and went first to her writing desk. I know she had written a message and had it delivered to me upon exiting Dreadwolf's presence.
Perhaps there was another.
But the desk was turned over, every piece of paper, scrap of silk, or bundle of bamboo scattered throughout the room. I picked one up at random, a roll of bamboo slats with an order for wood and stone, related to the repairs of what was once the Gray Dowager estate, before River had bought it for cheap. Another, on paper, was a message from a friend in the place: minor banter inquiring about health and happiness, prospects of marriage and future plans. Certainly encoded to mean something more important than what it let on, but not what I was looking for.
I picked up another note, on silk, in sloppy handwriting by River's standards:
My gray mother named me anew,
At the bosom of my blue one.
The first knew what I could do,
While the second knew what I had done.
I made to cast it aside and then paused as a thought struck me. I was right to pick this scrap up. There was something indeed strange about using silk for idle prose. I picked up a few more scattered writings, mostly written on paper, which was becoming cheaper in the capital, and saw that there were perhaps dozens of other scraps of poetry, all of a similar style and subject matter. But this one alone had been written on silk. Was it perhaps a favorite of hers, copied from some other text? No, it was so personal to her that it must have been of River's own making. Did she think it her best work, worth memorializing? If so, then why the rushed handwriting.
I read it again, now certain that I was meant to find this, while any ransacking henchman would have dismissed it along with the others.
It was underhanded and perhaps a bit elitist, but River had often used the illiteracy of soldiers, or at least their disinterest in the written word, against them. She had done it once to occupy Windstopper when she had wanted a private discussion with me, without insulting my bodyguard by dismissing him from the room.
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No, this was the exact note I was meant to find here, the needle in the proverbial haystack, reserved for someone who both knew River well, and shared her love for reading, writing, and calligraphy.
"My gray mother named me anew…" That was almost certainly The Gray Dowager who had been like a mother to River, and had given her a courtesy name upon finding her.
"At the bosom of my blue one…" Perhaps River's birth mother? She had never mentioned her true parents before, but perhaps she had been born to a clan that had claimed blue for their colors, just as the Silver Falcon clan wore silver and white in battle. Was she from the Skylands perhaps? Or a smaller clan?
I couldn't be sure. I moved on.
"The first knew what I could do, While the second knew what I had done."
This puzzled me even further. What could River do? What had she done? She could certainly out-plot the best of the lords and courtiers – it had kept me alive thus far – but how was that a hint as to where I could find her, or what I should do next.
I righted her desk chair to sit and lay the bared sword across my lap as I scrambled to solve River's puzzle before the Demon came for me.
At best, I had until dawn. At worst, he was right outside the door.
I tried to focus.
"Gray mother named her… at the bosom of the blue one…"
Names were often given to young adults who had proven themselves in some way, or had expressed some early indication of a more permanent Mandate. I was named for my apparent frailty, a sparrow among falcons, while I had given Windstopper his second name on account of a story he remembered from his youth, that proved his strength and resolve. Noble Lion and Golden Goat were both given names that alluded to their lineage, but while my friend was regal and powerful, his half-brother was a drunk, and often the butt of jokes, no doubt from an early age.
But there were just as many instances where a name was given that bordered on the prophetic, either seeing far into that teengager's future, or perhaps pushing that young noble in one direction above all others. My uncle's given name was Lu Boshe, but his courtesy name was actually Uncle. Perhaps the others around him had great respect for him even as a boy, or maybe he had been comically stern until he was just regularly stern. My father, Commandant, wouldn't become Imperial commandant for another twenty years after receiving his second name.
So what was River trying to tell me about her own name? Perhaps something about her mandate that she had alluded to but never-
I stopped and slapped my head against the flat of the blade for being such a pedantic idiot! Here I was trying to puzzle out each and every word of River's poem and I had run past the answer at least five times over. The whole poem was about River's own name! I didn't need to think too hard about what color it was – there was only one river alongside the City of Lanterns, the Blue River, and it was aptly named, running deeper and cleaner than most rivers in the Land Under Heaven. All she was saying was go to the river.
Damn I'm so smart I'm dumb sometimes.
"Windstopper!" I shouted throughout the house as I poked my head into every room, wondering where he had gone. I paused in my own room long enough to consider donning armor, and tying on my own Son-of-Heaven sword, but both were gone, stolen, no doubt, by whomever had ransacked the rest of the house.
I had almost resolved to leave the house and head to the river without him – I was actually out the side gate already checking the alley for him – when I heard a commotion. There was a sharp metallic crack, and when I rushed down the alley in the direction the sound had come from, I saw Windstopper, in a pool of shadows, holding an unconscious man in black robes by the color.
"River Told Me There Would Be A Man Here Waiting For You," said Windstopper by way of explanation. "She Told Me To Crack His Head And Not Let Him Escape. Does His Head Look Cracked To You."
My bodyguard was nothing if not good at following instructions.
"Oh yes," I said. "Well and truly cracked. Put him down now and let's get going."
"Where Are We Going." asked Windstopper.
"To the river," I said, then paused. "Does that sound right to you? Did River give you any more instructions I should know about?"
Windstopper scratched his head and then shrugged.
"Ok. To The River Then."
I thought to leave Noble Lion a note, perhaps pinned to the door, perhaps inside hidden and encoded among the others, if he should come to check on me. Something along the lines of "I failed to kill Dreadwolf and you still need to go into exile." But I wasn't River. I couldn't create so subtle a trail and still ensure he'd get the message. With Noble Lion's life depending upon it, I couldn't risk him missing it or misinterpreting it, as I had almost done with River's note.
So after another moment's consideration, I grabbed the nearest lantern from the street and hurled it into the now empty stables of River's mansion. I had no idea where Windshear was but I knew for sure that there was no one and nothing in that estate now. The straw went up instantly, and I was fairly certain the house would eventually catch too.
I felt bad about lighting a fire in a city, but this was a wealthy area, spaced out with stone or stucco walls in between.
Besides, this wasn't the first time this house had been ransacked and burned.
And Noble Lion couldn't possibly miss this.