~TIEN LYN~
Mother Xho herself emerged from behind Jiang, screeching: "Come, come, come!" and grabbed her shirt with knobby fingers. Well, if anything, it was an excuse to leave the nets and stretch her aching back. Tien Lyn stood up stiffly and without a glance at her jailers let the old witch lead her away. The witch, in turn, followed Shan Jiang.
In the daylight, Shan Jiang turned out to be an entirely ordinary-looking man of maybe thirty, more than slightly worn for wear, and vicious sunburn despite a wide-brimmed hat, oversized shirt, long baggy pants, and a large silk neck-tie hiding nearly every inch of him. But any patch of skin that came into view was angry pink and peeling. Even the tips of his ears were angry pink and peeling. No wonder he hurried his two ladies away from the docks down the path cut through the abundant greenery to a small palm-leaves roofed hut.
By now, Tien Lyn was used to the gruesome decor of the Islands, so she barely glanced at the poles that skewered a dozen of demon skulls between them by the witch's hut. Once inside though, she gaped.
The middle of the hut was given to boxes covered by mysterious powders, roots, dried sea creatures and living plants. The walls were lined with shelves stuffed with rows and rows of jars, each sealed with wax and inscribed with mysterious symbols.
"Are any of them poisons?" Tien Lyn asked Shan Jiang shakily.
The man laughed: "Not very subtle, are you, Gracious Lady? But no, not really. The old dear is the pirate's venerable priestess, not their healer."
He picked up a jar, rotated it, and proffered it to her for closer scrutiny. It was crudely glazed and dusty. Tien Lyn traced the symbol on the wax seal with her finger. "So what is it? Can you read these symbols?"
Shan Jiang shook his head: "No. It may mean something to her, but it's not in any language I know. I copy them to the best of my ability on her command. So, if you wish to gamble on your vengeance amounting to severe indigestion, it's your choice."
Tien Lyn's patience with his antics grew short. "Then why did you bring me here?!"
He took his hat off and fanned himself. "I thought you needed a break from that awful sun, Lady."
Tien Lyn sighed. "But they must have real herbalists, no?"
"Surgeons and herbalists, aye. They sail with their ships."
She caught his sleeve: "You go on their ships, don't you? You're welcome there?"
Shan Jiang carefully disentangled her fingers from the fabric: "Yes and yes, but I am here on my own volition and on Jung Hwa's forbearance. Don't forget that, Lady."
Tien Lyn dropped herself on a box of yet more mystery jars with a sigh. "Well, maybe there is another way. A knife?"
"A knife for whom, I might ask? Yourself? The fortunate groom?" Jiang scratched his cheeks leaving bits of dead skin stuck in his short, patchy beard.
"Jung Hwa." Tien Lyn replied darkly and looked away.
Both Shan Jiang and Mother Xho cackled. Ancestors, she'd forgotten the witch was even there, she was so quiet and small. But now she swirled around the hut, lurching on her old feet, and belting out in a strangely loud voice: "Jung Hwa is strong! She drinks sea urchin tea!" over and over. There was no talking over her yelling.
Shan Jiang sat next to Tien Lyn and propped his cheek on his fist. When Mother Xho's chant finally turned to quieter cackles, he said: "Well, I suppose that answers one riddle. The fighting women here aren't built like any other woman I've seen. Maybe it's the urchin tea."
Mother Xho nodded vigorously, rummaged through the shelves and stuffed a jar in Tien Lyn's hands. "Sea urchins!"
"Hmm..." Shan Jiang said and copied the symbol on his wrist. "There you go, My Lady. Drink this up daily, apply yourself, and in mere five or ten years you might earn the right to challenge Jung Hwa."
"It's all jokes to you!" Tien Lyn exploded, "Your family wasn't killed by her. You are not locked up with the ruffians to be handed over to some Huo or Gao or Celestials know who to rape you!"
"Pull up your horse, my young barbarian!" Shan Jiang lifted his palms in protest. "Firstly, noble Huo is dead. Secondly, if you fear for your virtue, you should pray nightly for Jung Hwa's good health. It's thanks to her that for now, every man on this Island is a eunuch as far as you're concerned."
"But... but... " Tien Lyn was caught off guard by his lopsided logic.
"Bide your time, My Lady," Jiang suggested. "Things will improve."
Tien Lyn laughed bitterly: "You mean I would grow resigned to my fate? I won't. They killed my husband and my son! They burned my people. I hate them. I want them to die."
"I am sorry, My Lady," Shan Jiang said quietly, "I am truly sorry. But you won't win against a pirate in a knife fight. You should wait. The ships aren't due back till the new moon."
"Wait!" Tien Lyn felt like hitting him. "For what?!"
But deep down, a small voice teased self-consciously, Among the mages, you wanted magic. With a witch, you dream to be a poisoner. You see Jung Hwa, and you wish to swing a knife.
"Shan Jiang?" She asked plaintively, "Don't you ever want to be a hero, you who sings about them?"
"All the time, My Lady, all the time!" the poet readily confessed. "Then I pen down my longings and sell them to fools."
"Oh." Tien Lyn felt deflated.
"They call me Jiang The Honest Storyteller here," he boasted.
Mother Xho got bored with their conversation and dropped a handful of jars into Shan Jiang's lap. He started scratching dutifully, asking for Mother Xho to share her secret recipes. The old witch refused but looked delighted with his attention.
After that first morning, Shan Jiang faithfully came to spring her from her fishing nets' mending duty every day, just as the heat got oppressive. Both of them lacked anyone else to talk to on the Islands, so day by day, Tien Lyn told the poet everything there was to tell about herself, which was pitifully little. She was nineteen, with only her mother left of her family, and a short list of broken dreams. But in telling, she realized there was something the poet could do for her, and without a shred of heroism required.
"Can you write a song for me, Jiang?" she asked.
He straightened up from grinding a dry starfish with a stinky mushroom, astounded: "Of course. But my ears are still sore from the thrashing you gave me for writing that last one!"
She ignored the jape. "Write a song about how every man who laid eyes on me ended up dead. Han Zheng, Thirty Claws, Huo, and..." she had to say it. "Chong Ho."
There. Quietly, but she did say her husband's name. "And whatever scumbag Jung Hwa tossed to the sharks."
"Castrated, then tossed to the sharks," Shan Jiang corrected, looking thoughtful. "I am at your disposal, My Lady, but with your permission, I'll leave Thirty Claws out of it. Say what you will about Jung Hwa, but she loved her husband. It will end badly for both of us."
Tien Lyn scoffed, ready to object that Jung Hwa had a rock for her heart, but then she remembered how Jung Hwa talked about choosing a man in a thousand, and bit her tongue. Maybe?
"Aaah," Shan Jiang smiled privately, observing her face, "Maybe love is not solely the province of the beautiful young things, and we all travel there, yes?"
Tien Lyn was not ready to listen yet again about the incomparable Aynu, the girl that Jiang could talk about for hours, or about handsome Huo who left a strong impression on the poet, for however briefly they had known one another. So she, again, said nothing.
I will still kill her. I will find a way.
When the pirates' ships dropped anchor in the harbour again, Tien Lyn did not exactly pray for the Chieftain's health nightly, but she might have thanked her ancestors once or twice for prolonging Jung Hwa's life. Zha Yao's head had stayed firmly attached to his neck, so she was safe for the time being. But her purported lover was too successful for her comfort, given that he was the pirates' sworn enemy.
Zha Yao had held onto Crane's Mooring and wrestled the Castle Whitewater from Xhitong's governor. On the eastern border of Xhitong, this stronghold guarded the Imperial highway, and the headwaters of the Turbulent River, a lock and a key to the Zhong Province. And to its capital, Xichon, the Empire's heart. Certainly, the entire North and the coast were still firmly in Wo Jia's control, but Zha Yao's rebellion had not guttered out with the coming of winter.
These tidings soured the mood, and Gao, Jung Hwa's eldest surviving son and the man who had captured her, was in a particularly foul one. If he ever was in any other mood, that is. Worse, the looks he gave her made her suspect that he wanted her to be the morsel to sweeten his disposition. Against Gao's brazen glances, no song offered much protection, but Jung Hwa did. When the flotilla sailed away again, she left her youngest, Dion, in charge.
Tien Lyn was happy to see the foul man and his mother gone, and she could not wait to resume her sojourns with Mother Xho and Shan Jiang. The odd couple acted subdued, taking her to the cliff overlooking the harbour to count the ships that stayed behind. She counted along and grew apprehensive as well. "Why are there so many?"
"Jung Hwa expects the demons to take advantage of the situation on the mainland," Shan Jiang rubbed yet another strip of dead skin off his neck and cringed. "There will be a raid."
"Demons, demons, demons!" Mother Xho chanted. Then pointed at Tien Lyn: "Touched by a demon!"
"I wish she'd stop doing this," Tien Lyn muttered.
Shan Jiang's sunshine disposition was all but spent. He shivered visibly, studying his sunburned toes with the attention they did not deserve. "We'll all consider ourselves lucky to be merely touched by a demon soon."