Chapter 51: Sparrow Prepares for the Face-Off With the Demon, But Can’t Escape His Larger Purpose
The morning was cold, biting into the skin of my chest that had won free of the furs in the night. Apparently, I hadn't bothered dressing for bed, but had just stripped down and fallen into my pallet in the center of the sparse tent.
Pale light shone through the canvas.
I heard a groan beside me and found that River hadn't bothered to dress for bed either. With a noise of mild, sleepy annoyance she pulled the blanket to cover the sliver of her own shoulder that had been exposed by my movements.
I wrapped an arm around her and brushed her hair from her face. "Be ready to ride again today," I said.
A long sigh let me know she was awake and heard me. For a moment, the smell of her hair filled my senses, and the warmth of her body radiating half a span from mine made me consider sidling in closer to tease her into making love before the day truly dawned.
But at hearing his mother stir, little Ang got up in his crib at the corner of the tent and leaned against the wicker barrier, calling for his "mama."
"I'm coming, sweet one," mumbled River, still not fully awake.
"I'll get him," I said, placing a hand on my wife's shoulder, and a chaste kiss on her temple.
She mumbled something else.
Ang reached up for me as I picked him up under the arms. He was growing so fast but his cheeks still looked like little overstuffed dumplings. I placed him down on the fur mat allowing him to totter over to our sleeping pallet with the help of my hand. As soon as he got close, River's eyes shot open and she snatched Ang up to pull him close, making him squeal in glee.
I flopped down beside the two, reluctant to start the day when my family was all together within arms reach.
"He looks like you," I said to River. She was brushing aside a wisp of his fine dark hair and making exaggerated faces at him. The small child made faces back, his sausage-fingers reaching from River's own hair, black as midnight pools, smiling and saying, "Silly, mama! Silly!"
She flicked his nose and smiled.
"You're being silly," she said to me without turning. I could always tell when she was talking to me, because there was one tone of voice she used exclusively with little Ang, and then another tone for the rest of the world. I didn't begrudge her that.
Of course it was impossible that the little foundling could actually turn out to look like the woman who had adopted him; River hadn't given birth to Ang any more than I had sired him. But none of that stopped the strongest of bonds from forming between the two. None of that prevented the three of us from being a family.
River always glowed around the child, and though our little Ang was as well-mannered as children of almost three years came – so I was told – there was no one in the world who could bring out his smiles like River. For my wife's part, I don't know how she could be the most beautiful woman in the Land Under Heaven while she was making those ridiculous faces at the child. Perhaps it was because she was making those ridiculous faces at our child that she was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman in the world to me.
Presently, she returned to a more normal expression and sighed.
"I suppose I'll have to call one of the nursemaids in soon," she said, when she saw that I had risen and crossed to another corner of my tent, where I was putting the finishing touches on my orders for the day.
"There's no rush." Not while the Demon holds the pass and while Noble Lion still hasn't decided on our approach.
A few more brushstrokes and I was done.
"I'll leave a copy for you here," I said, holding up the orders for what, if done right, would be the last major engagement in the war against Dreadwolf.
She nodded absently, as I reviewed the finished product one last time.
***SPARROW'S MISSION BRIEFING: THE LAST BATTLE FOR TIGER CAGE PASS***
Primary Objective: Gain the City of Lanterns as soon as the Demon breaks.
Secondary Objective: Kill the Demon himself, and capture as many of his men as possible.
Bonus Objective: Capture or Kill Dreadwolf himself, should he appear.
Fail Condition: The Coalition is held in the pass or pushed back out of it.
ROSTER: ARMY OF THE SILVER FALCON CLAN
GENERAL: Sparrow of the Silver Falcon Clan
VAN……………...Sparrow, Shadow River, Flashammer
LEFT FLANK…...
RIGHT FLANK…
CENTER………..
REAR……………Tongs, Windstopper, Castellan
It was a strange formation, with an empty center, and it made my small army of two-thousand-and-two-hundred effectively two armies, one to take ground and one to hold it as best they could. But with the bulk of my forces mounted and the rest of them unable to keep up, this was the best option. It was better than slowing down my cavalry to wait for archers and trappers, or trying to push men on foot to keep up with-
Shifting the papers, the edges of one of them glowed.
I hesitated, confirming that River was still playing with Ang behind me, and then pulled the glowing paper out to place it tight to my chest. The words shone only faintly, their ink fading to nothing before my eyes, almost as fast as I could read them.
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***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***
TITLE: HOW UNEXPECTED!
DESCRIPTION: You've earned the friendship of someone born under the star opposite yours. Water and Fire. Blade and Root. These things do not mix, yet somehow you've overcome this, just as one element overcomes another. Just be sure you're not the one on the wrong side of that destructive cycle.
VIRTUE: +15
By the time I had finished reading it, the page was already blank, a seemingly new sheet of paper of middling quality. I dropped it absently to the desk, wondering if I had read it right. No, I know I had read it right, but still I puzzled over the words.
It wasn't the relationship between the elements that confused me. Water overcomes fire. I was born to the Black Star just as the Tiger – Sun Jian – had been born under the Red. His essence posed no danger to mine. All of this was second nature to me, and to anyone raised among the nobility in the Land Under Heaven. That wasn't a mystery to me.
No, what I puzzled over was the word "friendship." It wasn't an alliance. It wasn't an oath. According to this 'achievement,' the Tiger considered himself my friend, unless I could no longer trust this seemingly magical system that granted these missives. But I had already learned that, if the system of 'achievements' wasn't downright omniscient, then it at least knew much more about the inner workings of the lords of the land than anyone would dare to believe. At times, the knowledge expressed in these glowing notes was unsettling even to me.
A friend. Truly, I can't remember ever having one that wasn't also something else. I had Windstopper, but he was also my bodyguard. I had River, but she was also my wife and now one of my officers besides. I had Noble Lion and White Stallion, too, but lately it felt as if we were more allies than friends, and, based on our respective ranks and positions within the Coalition, I was definitely the lesser party in both of those relationships.
I certainly had strong connections in my life, but nothing so simple as a mere friend.
I hadn't expected to stay long, kneeling over the low travelling desk as I wrote out the orders for the day, but I found I had settled onto the cushion before the writing surface, staring absently at the blank page before me, the predawn light illuminating it through the canvas. Coming back out of my thoughts, I found that there was another presence upon my desk. It "glowed" just as the other message had glowed, but it also seemed to give off the opposite essence. Barely perceptible shadows pooled around the edges of the surface, as if it could only consume, rather than emit anything.
Again, I checked to make sure I could hear River lost in play with our child; I was not ready to explain this strange system to her. In fact, I wasn't sure I could explain it without coming off as a mad-man. After all, the messages made a point of disappearing the moment I read them, and they might not even wait that long if someone got to the message first. Luckily, River sounded enrapt, and if there was any sign of my discomfort, either in my lingering over the desk or the set of my shoulders as I sat, she had not noticed it.
Husbands had a way of disappearing when children were present.
I pulled the page wreathed in faint anti-light from the stack.
***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***
TITLE: COLOSSAL COWARD
DESCRIPTION: You've encountered the top ranked Hero of the Times on the opposite side of a battlefield… and you're still alive to read this. There's only one logical explanation. You ran. You ran like an errant ink-trail across the page of history, a footnote to figures of greater stature, and I bet you're patting yourself on the back for it. Either that, or making excuses.
VIRTUE: -20
I quelled the urge to slam the paper to the desk, for fear of alerting River – or worse, Ang – to my distress. Instead, I coolly filed the now blank page into the bottom of the stack of unused writing medium that always sat at one corner of my desk.
Then, I finished making the necessary copies of my orders for the day. The monotonous act of writing calmed me, and as I moved from my writing desk to the last corner of my tent, I was able to approach the situation with a clear head.
Was it fair that I should lose Virtue merely because I wasn't willing to throw my life away in hopeless single combat? Was it fair that a more "virtuous" man in this instance would make a widow of his wife? Was it cowardice or prudence to not leave the Silver Falcon clan all but headless in such a weakened state?
I inspected my armor on the rack, cleaned of the blood and grime of yesterday's battle, before beginning to don it. It was still technically the colors of my father's clan, the perfectly fitting iron scales each individually painted white where it hadn't flaked away to expose the iron underneath, and the more ornamental details edged in polished silver where they weren't bent or broken off entirely. No suit of armor — no matter how well-kept — ever quite gleamed the same after a few months of use. "Armor's only meant to look nice for as long as it takes you to ride to the front," my father used to say. "After that, it's meant to keep you alive."
There was no better allegory for clan and kingdom than a well-used suit of armor. You built it up around you, but each time it took a hit, it was that much more likely to crumble. Layer on the bands of metal, and there was still the chance that a different weapon from a new angle might find its way through. Ride out with it to battle and it would begin to chip away, to lose its luster, until you had to take it home to repair or outright reforge it.
The Silver Falcon clan was battered and flaking, but it would still serve gallantly for a while yet.
The Son-of-Heaven Saber, however, seemed immune to wear. Its silver inlay needed no polish. Its leather scabbard needed no oil, its blade hadn't dulled one bit, no matter how many armor plates it caught on or bones it cleaved through. All I ever had to do was run cold water over it and it was as good as the day it had appeared before me.
It was an immaculate weapon, and I was starting to believe that it was as magical as the system that had granted it to me – even if that system had a strange sense of right and wrong. I attached it to my waist with the silken sash it had come wrapped in, and snapped the blade into the scabbard.
I continued dressing for war, absently reaching for my secondary blade before pausing. I had 'earned' the Youngest Brother Blade for perhaps the greatest mistake I had ever made in my life. I had misunderstood my Uncle's intentions and killed innocent members of his family. In doing so, I had unwittingly unleashed a cascade effect that had ended with River calling upon her dark powers and killing off his entire family, along with the bandits who had cornered us. What had followed was perhaps the darkest night of my life, and almost certainly the darkest night of River's. And for our troubles, I had earned a dagger as dark as night, with a sinister past to match.
"'I'd rather drown the world in shadow than let it down me.'" I mumbled to myself, before sliding the knife into the back of the sash.
"I hate leaving him," said River, breaking me from my reverie. I wasn't sure if she had heard me. I also don't know how long I had lingered at my desk, before donning my weapons and armor as if in a fog.
Now, looking over at my wife and son – one big dark pool of eyes staring into another – I couldn't help but feel like nothing else in the world mattered. Nothing was as important as protecting these two people. Virtue and vice be damned.
"I trust his nursemaids to care for him and Windstopper to protect him," River went on. "But even so… I hate not having him by my side."
It was a conversation we had had before, and I was determined to leave before it turned into an argument.
I shook myself and strode to the entrance of the tent, then paused again to let out a long sigh. "If only one of his nursemaids had your powers, or Windstopper could ride like you," I said. "They could lead my elites in your place. Alas…"
"But it is almost over," River's snapped, hair whipping around like coils of shadow. I wasn't sure if it was a command from my wife or a question from one of my officers. She was out of bed now, blanket still wrapped around her bare moon-kissed skin, my orders in one hand and our child in the other. She had noticed the title I had given to this next battle. "One more battle. One more push to the City of Lanterns."
I knew what she was thinking. She was imagining a life back in Iron Tower, in the last of my father's holdings. We might no longer be the great clan we once were, but after Dreadwold was gone, we could see to what little lands we had left. There would be no more war or famine, with us overseeing things. Nothing but the two of us spending every minute of every day raising and teaching and caring for our child. That was her dream, I knew. For now, we had made the conscious decision that protecting our child was the first duty of a parent. Somehow, it was harder for River to accept that fact than it was for me. I often wondered just how much of my alloy was the metal of my father, and how much of it came from a mother I never knew.
I set my jaw. "Only if we win."