“We match,” I said by way of greeting… and perhaps as peace offering for having trapped her into coming here.
“I know,” she said, eying the many-tiled floor guardedly before her eyes flashed to mine. “Knowledge is everything within the court. You don’t think I’d know where you’d get your clothes from?”
She leaned in and whispered, “The purple was my idea.”
“I like it,” I said. “Thank you. And you…”
I couldn’t think of a way to put what I saw into words. I just wished she could see herself through my eyes for a moment. I can only say that the look she cast in my direction was the most unreadable I had ever seen from her dark eyes, as if their depths contained multitudes, and for the moment…
No. It was gone and her mask was back up.
She turned her courtly smile from me to Noble Lion, who shuffled a bit awkwardly at having been cut out of the conversation. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about him the moment River walked in.
“And you, my lord, you are called Noble Lion, are you not?”
“I am,” Lion lit up. “What may I call you?”
“River will suffice,” she said with a glance toward me. “Are you unaccompanied this evening?”
“I…” his eyes flicked over her head, to the crowd beyond. I followed his gaze, and it fell on… White Stallion? She was dressed, not as a court lady, but as any officer might be at a formal matter. I had to admit, it suited her.
She wore white, of course, but it was trimmed with off-whites, pale grays and creams. It was masterfully crafted attire, as I knew just by looking at her that she was a cavalry officer of the highest caliber, that while the novice might look upon a white horse and call it simply a white horse, she knew the many colors, variations, and dispositions you might find among a wild herd.
“Um,” I said, when it became clear that Noble Lion was as lost for words as I had been a moment ago. “Perhaps you could introduce us?”
Noble Lion’s gaze flicked from me to White Stallion, then back to me. “Me? I’ve never spoken to her outside of the Marshal’s meetings. Perhaps you could introduce me!”
“Oh, come you two,” said River, all well-practiced pomp. “I will introduce all of us.”
She did just that. Cutting through the crowd, River gave a brief bow to the woman in white, but did not offer her pendant as she outranked nearly everyone in this room. “You are White Stallion are you not? Excuse the intrusion, my friend was just praising your valor and virtue, and I knew I must meet you.”
“Valor and virtue, eh? Noble Lion said that?”
Lion blushed. “We were simply discussing matters of politics and your name happened to come up…”
“I have to admit,” said Stallion, “It’s Noble Lion here who appears to be the voice of reason in those meetings. And if anyone’s going to get anything done, it will be Sparrow here. Are you accompanying him?”
“He is accompanying me,” said River with another nod. There was a complicated series of formal introductions and eventually after we all had a look at each other’s pendants, we knew exactly where we stood on the relative scales of society.
WHITE STALLION
RANK 14: Leader of the Professionals at the Vanguard
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
WORTH: 700 dan
CLAN: WHITE HORSE | STAR: Silver | FATE: Unknown
MANDATE: Aura of Courage
“Well, look at this,” said River, picking the conversational thread back up that formalities tended to tangle, “a lion, a stallion, and a sparrow go to consult an oracle… It sounds like the beginning of a proverb!”
“And you, my lady?” said White Stallion, chuckling. “Where do you fit in?”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” said the lady. “I am called River.”
“Well there you have it,” Noble Lion jumped in, “A lion, a stallion, and a sparrow go to consult an oracle… but first they must cross a mysterious river.”
“Oh, well done, Lion,” said Stallion.
River gave her most alluringly mischievous smile, though I knew it all to be an act. Still I laughed along with them before cutting in.
“The river, however, poses no danger to the sparrow, as he alone can fly,” I said, looping River’s arm around mine, “leaving the lion and the stallion alone on the riverbank.”
As I led my escort away, Stallion guffawed at my turn of phrase, but there was a moment of pleading in Lion’s eyes. I winked at him and he seemed to bolster himself before turning back to the woman in white.
“I wonder,” whispered River, conspiratorially, “If we’ve just left him to drown.”
“If anyone can navigate a conversation with Stallion, it’s Noble Lion.” Then, dropping my voice, I proceeded to tell her how it was Noble Lion’s wordsmithing and White Stallion’s aura of courage that had unified the other warlords to put the current Emperor on the throne. I wondered, halfway through the telling, if it was a good idea to speak of how we had all contributed to events that had, eventually, resulted in the death of a woman River had cared for as a mother, but her face remained impassive throughout, and I was sure she already knew what had unfolded.
Suddenly my whispering did not seem so quiet, as the room had gone utterly silent as if on cue.
The Philosopher had risen from his cushion. It was time to begin the readings.
Noble Lion strode out to the edge of the floor and clapped his hands. I was a bit surprised to see him take such a position as master of ceremonies, but perhaps I shouldn't have been; Lion had invited me personally, but it had seemed so casual coming from his lips that I hadn’t guessed he had been the one to orchestrate the entire event.
“My lords, my ladies,” he began, “Sers and Madames. Friends old and new and friends to be. Cousins. Even half-brothers! Welcome.”
“Welcome, yourself!” another young man who easily could have been related to Noble Lion had his face not been so ruddy, raised a drinking bowl, and many of the young lords laughed in response.
“Thanks, Shu,” Lion said with a wink. It finally clicked for me that the man with the drinking bowl was Yuan Shu, called Golden Goat, half-brother to Noble Lion and the future head of their clan.
“Hopefully you’ve all eaten to your heart's content, found courageous new allies, and drank enough to be willing to face fate!”
Another jibe from Golden Goat that I didn’t make out, but the others laughed all the harder for its incoherence.
“And yet, lords and ladies, knights and loyal retainers…” Noble Lion dropped his voice, while his tone darkened considerably; we now hung upon his every word. “...the Book of Changes is no party trick. A reading from the Emperor’s own philosopher is as inescapable as a tomb, as sacred as an oath, as powerful as the roving stars of Heaven themselves. But fear not, friends, for you already carry your fate within you, and the Philosopher simply makes the truth be known. Now! Who claims the honor of the first reading?!”
There had been a dozen pompous lords and eager ladies who had seemed as if they might fight to rush out onto the floor when Noble Lion had begun. But after his introduction – or perhaps his warning – none of them seemed to want to step forward.
“Courage, friends!” said Noble Lion, scanning the crowd at the edge of the board. “Or else I’ll have to go first, and bore you all with the same reading, yet again!”
The lords and ladies laughed nervously, but still none stepped forward. I didn’t blame them, as I suddenly couldn’t have pressed myself further into the cover of a pillar.
“If its courage that's called for,” said White Stallion, swaggering a bit more than usual, as she stepped up to Noble Lion, “look no further.”
“Who else?” Noble Lion beamed as he yielded the floor. He had orchestrated the event beautifully, and who was better to lead the charge than White Stallion? I was suddenly proud to have made such auspicious – and bold – acquaintances.
The Philosopher himself, however, had no such love for fanfare. The moment White Stallion stood before him, he fixed her with such a stare, with such intensity, that even though Stallion stood two heads taller than him, her courage seemed on the verge of abandoning her. I felt the flicker of a white aura bolster her, pinning her to the spot as the Philosopher mumbled something under his breath, perhaps a preliminary prophecy meant only for her, perhaps sorting through the very threads of her fate to find where the coins should fall.
Then his wrist flicked out and three old, beaten, common disks of bronze scattered across the tiles.
The readings had begun. The first coins had been cast.