THE LIGHT of the sun rose above the curve of the horizon, shining through the warped, centuries-old glass of the large eastern window of the Grand Hall, illuminating its interior in a golden glow before passing through the identical western portal and crossing the gardens beyond to warm the closed eyelids of High Tahn Tin-Tsu, the man destined to be zhan of the Daeshen Dominion by the time that same sun fled from the world and left it in darkness.
Tin-Tsu opened his eyes. He stood on a balcony similar to the one he had prayed upon a few hours prior. How strange the answer to his prayers. How unexpected. He touched his side where the palace physician's bandages wrapped his ribs. His flesh would be tender for days, and likely bleed again, but the old healer's hand had been just as steady with the needle and thread as when he had sewn Tin-Tsu's arm all those years ago as a child. More than anything, more than his mother's smiles and kisses, more than his sister's embrace, those stitches had made him feel at home again. A home much changed from the one he had left.
Seventeen years past, his father had been a zhan in his prime. Ten years later, he lay dead from an infected wound incurred from the rusted metal of a Tanshen soldier. His father had always insisted on being on the battlefield for a major conflict, to ensure the enemy felt not merely his army's might but the bite of his own blade. Tin-Tsu's brother, Fan-Mutig, had followed his father's example, dying from two well-aimed arrows in battle only months prior. A battle lost even as the troops lost their leader. Too many arrows and not enough cover. A defeat that Tin-Tsu only learned of when he had been summoned for the funeral. And the inevitable coronation. A crowning that he had been ignoring as best he could. He blinked against the light of the sun. He could continue to ignore the inescapable for a few more hours.
A knock came from within his private study. He did not reply, knowing who it was and that the man would enter without bidding.
"Come join me," Tin-Tsu said when the door to the study opened. A moment later, Sub-commander Tonken-Wu stood beside him, bowing briefly before staring out over the gardens.
"Prime Councilor Kao-Rhee has instructed me to inform you that the preparations for the coronation proceed without incident, my tahn." Tonken-Wu clasped his hands behind his back. "High Commander Nedag-Tong also wishes me to convey his assurances that the palace is secure and will remain so in all instances."
"Do you believe the palace is secure, Tonken-Wu?" Tin-Tsu did not look at the young warden.
Tonken-Wu hesitated before speaking.
"No, my tahn. I do not."
"Why not?" Tin-Tsu breathed in the subtle scent of the flowers that opened to the light of the new day in the palace garden.
"If there can be one hand of night-slayers in the palace, there can be two." Tonken-Wu appeared deeply concerned by the thought. "And it would take only a single man to poison a cup or cast an arrow." He glanced around the gardens as though expecting the suggestion of his words to create reality at any moment.
"I agree." Tin-Tsu savored the aroma of dew-drenched lilacs rising up with the sun-warmed air. "Do you accept my wise councilor's assessment of the source of the attempt on my life?"
Tonken-Wu vacillated again before making his reply.
"No, my tahn."
"Why not?" Tin-Tsu cocked his head at the warden.
"While it might make sense for the Tanshen usurper to try and end your life, he is not the only one who stands to gain from your death." Tonken-Wu stared down at his feet.
"Explain." Tin-Tsu returned his attention to the gardens as Tonken-Wu spoke.
"Your death would destabilize the court and the dominion, but not enough to allow the Tanshen an upper hand in the battlefield." Tonken-Wu raised his eyes even as he lowered his voice, casting his gaze about the gardens and balconies. "We have rallied our best archers from the far reaches of the dominion to counter the type of assault that took your brother's life. While your death could provide the Tanshen Dominion a political advantage, it would not assist them in prosecuting the war. It might even hinder them by rallying the nation in response to such a breach of decency. However, while your sister could assume the throne as guardian zhan for a future son, with no clear heir, several of the lesser tahns might see your passing as an opportunity to advance their own station through marriage. And then there is the prospect that a third, unknown party might wish you dead to further goals we can only guess at."
"You seem to have given this great consideration." Tin-Tsu smiled at the young warden's assessment.
"It was a long walk from my chambers after changing clothes." Tonken-Wu tugged at the cotton hem of his warden jacket.
"And why might my own people wish to see me dead?" Tin-Tsu did not wonder so much about the answer to this question, but he wanted to know how his new personal escort would reply.
"They fear you, my tahn." Tonken-Wu spoke without reticence. "Your brother, may he walk forever in the Pure Lands, trained to rule the dominion from birth. You are a priest, trained to serve Ni-Kam-Djen. You have never led a council meeting. You have never stood on a battlefield. Never led an army. Never held..."
"Never held a sword." Tin-Tsu lowered his voice as he finished the young warden's sentence. "Remember this, Tonken-Wu. You will bear my blade for me. You will be my sword hand."
"My tahn..." Tonken-Wu began, seeming uncertain how to proceed or what he wished to say. "In your bedchambers..."
"In my bedchambers, you saved my life by slaying my enemies," Tin-Tsu said. "You have my unending gratitude."
"Yes, my tahn," Tonken-Wu replied.
"Do you know why I spared you punishment and requested you at my side?" Tin-Tsu asked.
"I..." Tonken-Wu looked down again to his feet. "No, my tahn. I failed you. Those men should never..."
"You did not fail me," Tin-Tsu interrupted. "You have spared me in ways you cannot imagine. We will not speak of it again."
"As you say, my tahn." Tonken-Wu continued to ponder his boots.
"Why, of all the men in the castle, have I requested you to attend me?" Tin-Tsu lowered his voice again.
Tonken-Wu considered this question for a moment, raising his head as the answer filled his lips.
"Because I am the only one you are certain is not trying to kill you."
"Just so." Tin-Tsu nodded. "Now I need you to do your best to find out who is and to keep them from succeeding. Your commander will be investigating the events of last night, but as you say, I trust your assessment to be unbiased. Find out who the men in my room were. Enlist those you trust to help you in this hunt. Were the men sentinels? New recruits? Hired swords dressed to appear the part? How did they plan to flee the palace? Does anyone recognize them? Have they been seen recently, either together or alone, in the company of a second party?"
"You have given this great thought, my tahn." Tonken-Wu adjusted the hem of his jacket again.
"As you said, it took you some time to arrive." Tin-Tsu hoped his new personal warden would be as fastidious in investigating the thwarted murder as in the grooming of his uniform. "The men you put to this task should have no idea what they are probing or why. Set them like hounds in the field and let them bring back the fallen pheasant. You shall apply yourself to double checking all the contingencies for my safety during the coronation. It will be easier to kill me in a public place than in my bedchamber."
"Yes, my tahn." Tonken-Wu glanced again at the gardens. "You might wish to avoid the balconies for a time. Arrows are harder to see approaching than swords."
"True." Tin-Tsu glanced at the gardens. "Thankfully, some noise presages their arrival. Proceed with your preparations. I have prayers to make. Return before noon."
"Yes, my tahn." Tonken-Wu bowed and backed off the balcony, leaving the study as quietly as he had entered.
Tin-Tsu watched him go, then looked out over the trimmed grass and cultured flowers below, once more breathing in the calming medley of scents filling the air. His new personal warden had made a good point. A balcony offered a solid target for an archer, even from a great distance. He should forego this simple pleasure and postpone it until his safety could be better assured.
How long might that be? Possibly forever. There would always be someone now who wanted him resting in the palace mausoleum beside his father and brother. He had forgotten how dangerous palace life could be. As a child, the most he had ever worried about was falling from the poda tree in the garden. The branches of the tallest tree in the palace garden had called to him all through his youth. He looked to the tree, noting that its gnarled limbs seemed to reach even higher than when he had departed from the palace. It was said the poda tree would continue to grow, even incrementally, until either the weight of its own height and leaves brought it down, or the ax of a lumberman felled it.
He remembered other things associated with the tree, things he had spent years attempting to forget. At the base of the tree, near the waist-high roots, something beneath the branches caught his eye. Someone. A face, eyes raised toward him on the balcony. A face aged but known to him nonetheless. The face from his past that he could never disremember no matter how great his desire.
Could it truly be him, or did some fanciful vision conjured up by the memories of the poda tree plague Tin-Tsu's senses? How had he returned? Why? What did his presence mean?
Before Tin-Tsu could silently pose more questions, the man beneath the tree limbs turned and vanished into the foliage of the garden paths.
What could it all portend? The dream, the star, the men come to kill him, the young warden's arrival at the opportune moment, and now this face across the gardens, this face from his past come back to haunt him at a distance.
Tin-Tsu felt the prayer of protection on his tongue more than he heard the words he uttered, but he surrendered himself to them, regardless.