Книга - Butterfly Swords

Butterfly Swords
Jeannie Lin


JOURNEY TO THE VERY EDGE OF HONOUR, LOYALTY…AND LOVEDuring China’s infamous Tang Dynasty – a time awash with luxury, yet littered with deadly intrigues and fallen royalty – betrayed Princess Ai Li flees before her wedding. Miles from home, with only her delicate butterfly swords for a defence, she enlists the reluctant protection of a blue-eyed warrior…Embittered barbarian Ryam has always held his own life at cheap value. Ai Li’s innocent trust in him and honourable, stubborn nature make him desperate to protect her – which means not seducing the first woman he has ever truly wanted…‘If Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon merged with A Knight’s Tale, you’d have the power and romance of Lin’s dynamic debut.’ – RT BOOK Reviews










This is Jeannie Lin’s debut novel, but look for

THE TAMING OF MEI LIN

an eBook which links into BUTTERFLY SWORDS and is available now

Also look for

THE DRAGON AND THE PEARL

Coming soon

Praise for new author Jeannie Lin’s first Mills & Boon


Historical:

‘Exciting debut … especially vibrant writing …’

—Publishers Weekly starred review

‘If Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon merged with

A Knight’s Tale, you’d have the power and romance

of Lin’s dynamic debut. The action never stops, the

love story is strong, and the historical backdrop is

fascinating. For the adventurous reader seeking new

places to “visit”, this is a treasure.’

—RT Book Reviews

‘In BUTTERFLY SWORDS, Jeannie Lin

tells a classic tale of courage, adventure, and

impossible love—and she sets it in a fascinating new

world: Tang China, where a warrior princess must fight

for her family and her country with only a barbarian

swordsman to help her. Jeannie Lin

is a fresh new voice in historical romance,

and BUTTERFLY SWORDS rocks!’

—Mary Jo Putney,

New York Times bestselling author

‘Swords, warrior princesses, and a barbarian to love!

BUTTERFLY SWORDS was a delight!’

—Jade Lee, USA TODAY bestselling author


‘Well,’ he breathed. ‘You do honour your bets.’

Though he no longer touched her, it was as if the kiss hadn’t ended. He was still so close. Ai Li stumbled as she tried to step away and he caught her, a knowing smile playing over his mouth. Her balance was impeccable. She never lost her footing like that. His grip tightened briefly before he let her go. Even that tiny, innocent touch filled her with renewed longing.

In a daze, she bent to pick up her fallen swords.

‘Now that our bargain is settled,’ she began hoarsely, ‘we should be going. You said the next town was hours from here?’

He collected his sword while a slow grin spread over his face, and her cheeks burned hot as she forced her gaze on the road ahead.

She had to get home and warn her father. Ai Li had thought of nothing else since her escape—until this blue-eyed barbarian had appeared. It was fortunate they were parting when they reached town.

When he wasn’t looking she pressed her fingers over her lips, which were still swollen from that first kiss. She was outmatched. Much more outmatched than when they had crossed swords.




About The Author


Jeannie Lin grew up fascinated with stories of Western epic fantasy and Eastern martial arts adventures. When her best friend introduced her to romance novels in middle school the stage was set. Jeannie started writing her first romance while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. After four years of trying to break into publishing with an Asian-set historical, her 2009 Golden Heart


–winning manuscript, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, was sold to Harlequin Mills & Boon.

As a technical consultant, backpacker, and vacation junkie, she’s travelled all over the United States as well as Europe, South Korea, Japan, China, and Vietnam. She’s now happily settled in St Louis, with her wonderfully supportive husband, and continues to journey to exotic locations in her stories.

You can visit Jeannie Lin online at: www.jeannielin.com




Butterfly

Swords

Jeannie Lin

















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




AUTHOR NOTE


The Tang Dynasty has always held a special lure for me. This was a time when women rose to the highest ranks as warriors, courtesans, and scholars. Anyone with the will and the perseverance to excel could make it. The imperial capital of Changan emerged as a cosmopolitan centre of trade and culture. The most famous love stories, the most beautiful poetry, and the most elegant fashions came from this era.

The Silk Road which connected East to West was at its height during the eighth century, and the empire embraced different cultures to a greater extent than ever before. I wanted to know what it was like to wear silk and travel to the edges of the empire during this golden age. And I wanted sword fights!

When BUTTERFLY SWORDS was awarded the Golden Heart


2009 for Historical Romance, I was overcome. It was a dream come true to receive recognition for writing a story that encompassed everything I loved.

In BUTTERFLY SWORDS you’ll find historical fact—and a little fantasy, of course. I hope you enjoy the drama and sensuality of the Tang Dynasty as much as I do.




Dedication


To my little sister Nam,

my ‘evil’ twin, my ideal reader—

Thank you for the tough love, for telling me which

darlings to kill, for reading all the ugly drafts,

for everything. I made a promise to dedicate

my first book to you, and here it is—

more than twenty years later.

Heartfelt thanks to my agent Gail Fortune

for her stubborn dedication.

To Anna Boatman and Linda Fildew

for making this story even bigger and better.

And to Barbara, Elaine, Dana and Kay

for all the love and guidance.




Chapter One


758 AD China—Tang Dynasty

The palanquin dipped sharply and Ai Li had to brace her hands against the sides to stay upright. Amidst the startled cries of her attendants, the enclosure lurched again before crashing to the ground with the splintering crack of wood. She gasped as the elaborate headdress toppled from her lap and she was thrown from her seat. A tight knot formed in her stomach, and she fought to stay calm.

What she heard next was unmistakable. The clash of metal upon metal just beyond the curtain that covered the wedding sedan. Sword-strike, a sound she woke up to every morning. With her heart pounding, she struggled to free herself from the tangle of red silk about her ankles. This skirt, the entire dress, was so heavy, laden with jewels and a hundred li of embroidery thread.

She fumbled behind the padded cushions of her seat, searching frantically for her swords. She had put them there herself, needing some reminder of home, the way another girl might find comfort in her childhood doll.

Her hand finally closed around the hilt. She tightened her grip to stop from shaking. From outside, the sounds of fighting grew closer. She ignored the inner voice that told her this was madness and pulled the swords free. The short blades barely fit in the cramped space. She had no time for doubt, not when so much was at risk. With the tip of one sword, she pushed the curtain aside.

A stream of sunlight blinded her momentarily. The servants scattered like a flock of cranes around her, all posts abandoned. Squinting, she focused on the hulking figure that blocked the entrance and raised her blades in defence.

A familiar voice cried out then,


’

Old Wu, the elder lieutenant, rushed to her while she faced the stranger. Her armed escort struggled against a band of attackers. In the confusion, she couldn’t tell who was who.

Wu pulled her behind the cover of the palanquin. The creases around his eyes deepened. ‘,


you must go now.’

‘With them?’

She stared at the thugs surrounding her. Wu had been a bit too successful at finding men to pose as bandits.

‘There are clothes, money.’

Wu spoke the instructions and the head ‘bandit’ grabbed on to her arm. Instinctively, she dug in her heels to resist him. Everything was unfolding so quickly, but she had known there would be no turning back.

The stranger relaxed his grip, but did not release her. An act, she reminded herself, fighting the panic constricting her chest.

‘There is no more time,’ Wu pleaded.

‘Your loyalty will not be forgotten.’

She let herself be pulled through the trees, stumbling to keep up with the ragged band. Who were these men Old Wu had enlisted? When she looked back, he was standing beside the toppled sedan, his shoulders sagging as if he carried a sack of stones. The secret he’d revealed to her two days ago weighed heavily on her as well. Ai Li hoped that she could trust him.

God’s teeth, the scent of cooking rice had never smelled so sweet.

Ryam’s stomach clenched as he stared across the dirt road. An open-air tavern stood empty save for the cook stirring an iron pot over the fire. The establishment was little more than a hut propped up in a clearing: four beams supporting a straw-thatched roof. Bare wooden benches offered weary travellers a place to rest between towns and partake of food and drink.

Travellers with coin, of course. The only metal Ryam had touched in months was the steel of his sword. He was nearly hungry enough to eat that.

The proprietor perched at the entrance, whip-thin and wily in his black robe as he stared down the vacant trail. Nothing but wooded thickets in either direction. A single dirt road cut through the brush, leading to the stand.

Ryam pulled his hood over his head with a sharp tug and retreated into the shade. He was too big, his skin too pale, a barbarian in the Chinese empire. Bái guĬ, they called him. White demon. Ghost man.

He wrestled with his pride, preparing to beg if he had to. Before he could approach, a mottled shape appeared in the glare of the afternoon sun. The proprietor jumped into motion and waved the newcomer into the tavern.

‘


, the proprietor gushed. His head bobbed as he bowed and bowed again.

Welcome, my lord, welcome.

Four men followed the first traveller inside and tossed their weapons with a clatter onto the table. Their presence forced Ryam back beneath the branches. A heartbeat later, he realised what was bothering him. That was no man at the centre of this rough bunch. Not with hips that swayed like that. He was wrong about many things, but there was no mistaking the instinctive stir of his blood at the sight of her.

The woman wore an owl-grey tunic over loose-fitting trousers. A woollen cap hid her hair. With her height, she could have passed for a lanky youth. She affected a lofty confidence as she addressed the proprietor. Behaviour appropriate for a male of superior status.

Ryam knew the rules of status. As a foreigner he was the lowest creature on the ladder, a hair above lepers and stray dogs. It was one of the reasons he skirted the back country, avoiding confrontation. The promise of a hot meal had tempted him into the open. The sight of this woman tempted him in another way. Beneath the formless clothing, she moved with a fluid grace that made his pulse quicken. He had forgotten that irrational pleasure of being distracted by a pretty girl. Blind masculine instinct aside, the determination with which she carried on with her ruse made him smile.

He wasn’t the only one paying such careful attention to her. The proprietor cast a scrutinising glance over his shoulder while he spoke to the cook, then donned his previously submissive demeanour as he returned to the table, balancing bowls of rice soup on a tray. Apparently, the woman overestimated the effectiveness of her disguise.

The proprietor set down the last bowl before his customers, then looked up. His mouth twisted into a scowl the moment he saw Ryam across the road.

‘Away with you!’ He strode to the edge of the stand. ‘Worthless son of a dog.’

Ryam let his hand trail to the sword hidden beneath his cloak. He had become a master at biting his tongue, but today the sun bore into him like bamboo needles and the ache in his belly felt all the more hollow. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t think to use his weapon against this fool, but he seriously considered it as the verbal abuse continued. It was like being pecked to death by an irate rooster.

He gritted his teeth. ‘The old man does not own this road,’ he muttered.

At least he hoped he said that. All the years on this side of the world and the only phrases he had at his command were bawdy insults and a smattering of pillow talk.

The rooster ducked inside, only to re-emerge with a club bigger than his arm. Ryam straightened to his full height with a warning growl. From her seat, the woman craned her neck at the disturbance. The men around her turned in unison. The four of them pinned him with their cold stares. He was making a wonderful impression.

‘Leave him, Uncle.’ The woman’s voice rang clear across the road, lowered in an attempt to further her pretence. ‘He means no harm to you.’

The proprietor backed away, muttering about foreign devils. The woman rose then, and Ryam stiffened with his back pressed against the tree. Now was the time to leave, but pure stubbornness held him in place. Stubbornness or reckless curiosity.

He focused his attention on her boots as she came near. The hilt of a weapon teased over the edge of the tanned leather. He wondered if she could wield it with any skill.

‘Are you hungry, Brother?’

She held her bowl out to him, extending her arm with great care as if approaching a wild beast. The steam from the rice carried hints of ginger and scallions to his nose and his stomach twisted in greedy little knots.

He was well aware of how he must look to her. Another one of the hordes of beggars and vagrants roaming the empire since the collapse of the old regime. Against his better judgement, he lifted his head and for the barest second, forgot that he was stranded and that he was starving.

Her eyes widened as she met his gaze. Hazel eyes, like the turning of autumn leaves. How anyone could mistake her for a man was beyond his understanding.

Now that she had seen who he was, he assumed she would recoil in fear or disgust or, even worse, pity. Instead she regarded him with curious interest. Next to kindness, it was the last reaction he expected.

‘Xiè xie.’ He mumbled his thanks as he took the food from her slack fingers. Any words he knew would be inadequate for this moment.

She nodded wordlessly and backed away, still staring. Only when she had returned to her companions did she take her eyes off him. By then the rice had gone cold. He gulped it down in three swallows and set the bowl on the ground before pausing to steal a final glance.

Inside the hut, the group finished their meal with little conversation and tossed a scatter of copper coins onto the table. A sense of desolation fell over him when she turned to go, but she did look back. He nodded once in farewell. They were both in hiding, after all—he in the shadows and the woman behind her disguise.

Once she disappeared down the road, he scarcely had time to straighten before the old man returned with his club and his viper tongue. Ryam presented his back to the stream of insults.

He trudged westwards, as he had done for the last month. The last remnants of their legion remained in the marshlands outside the north-western border. Perhaps he would no longer be welcome, but he had no other place to go.

Five years ago, they had fought their way across the silk routes to end up at the edge of the Tang Empire. The Emperor had tolerated their presence, but Ryam’s last blunder had likely destroyed any hope of a continued truce.

A hundred paces from the tavern and his feet began to drag. He swayed, caught off guard by the lurch in his step. A tingling snsation stole to his fingertips and toes. This feeling was all too familiar. Heavy headed, off balance, tongue thick in his mouth.

He was drunk.

Not drunk, drugged. The little beauty had drugged him and then abandoned him …. But that didn’t make any sense. Cursing, he shook his head to clear the fog in his skull. Thinking was becoming an even harder task than moving.

The woman had given him her food … which meant the drug was meant for her.

He reached for his sword, then froze with his fingers clenched over the hilt. This was the sort of impulse that had almost got him killed. His head spun with whatever they had slipped into the rice. He grappled with the odds. He was an outsider. He knew nothing about her or her bodyguards.

But those startling eyes had looked at him as if he was something more than an animal.

To hell with it.

Lifting one leaden foot after another, he forced himself around and drew his sword, lumbering back towards the tavern. The old proprietor shrieked when he saw him. The stack of bowls he carried crashed to the ground as the man scrambled for cover. Ryam ran past him and continued on the road.

He heard shouting in the distance and tore through the undergrowth in pursuit of it. Branches snapped against him, scraping over his arms and face. He stumbled into a clearing and everything slammed into his head at once: the pound of footsteps and the flash of steel. A dozen bandits armed with knives surrounded the swordsmen from the tavern. Ryam blinked through the haze clouding his eyes and searched for the girl.

She stood her ground at the centre of the swarm, wielding a blade in each hand. The swords flew in a whirl of motion. Rushing forwards, Ryam slammed his shoulder into one of her opponents and then struck the hilt of his sword against the man’s skull. The bandit crumbled to the ground.

One down. With an air of satisfaction, he swung to face her, grasping at the proper words. ‘I’m a friend—’

Her boot slammed neatly into his groin.

Pain exploded through his entire body. Nauseatingly bad pain. He should have left her to the wolves.

Without mercy, she came at him with the swords while he was doubled over. He hefted his blade up and parried once and then again. God’s feet, she was fast. He shoved her aside roughly. His body begged to sink to the dirt.

‘Here to help,’ he ground out.

Her arm stopped mid-strike as she focused on him. Another one of her companions collapsed as the drugs took effect and the bandits circled closer. She swung around, swords raised to face the next attack.

The battle continued for him in bits and pieces. He struck out again and once again he connected. In minutes he would be useless. He grabbed the woman’s arm.

‘Too many,’ he forced out.

She hesitated, scanning the field before going with him. More bandits gave chase, but he drove them back with a wild swing of his blade. Then he was running. Tall grass whipped at him while his world tilted, strangely yellow and dark at the edges. He blinked and when he opened his eyes the surroundings were unfamiliar. The woman had pulled ahead and she was shouting something at him. He stumbled and the next thing he knew was the smack of solid earth against his chin.

The muddled taste of blood and dirt seeped into his mouth. Spitting, he rolled himself over, his arms and legs dragging. He could no longer feel them. He could no longer feel anything.

The swordswoman hovered over him, her lips moving soundlessly. He fought against the blackness that seduced his eyelids downwards, but the ground felt really, really good.

Unable to resist any longer, he let his eyes close. He hoped he’d have a chance to open them again.

The foreigner lay on his back, denting the wild grass while his breath rumbled deep in his chest. Taking hold of one shoulder, Ai Li shook him as hard as she could.

The man was built like a mountain.

With a sigh, she looked back at the line of the trees, head tilted to listen. No footsteps. No one chasing after them. The dense undergrowth provided cover, but if they found her she was lost. She did not know who the attackers were, but she hoped they were merely outlaws. She prayed they weren’t men sent to take her back to Li Tao.

The men could be tracking her through the trees, but she couldn’t abandon the barbarian while he was helpless. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she turned back to him. At first glimpse, his pale skin and sandy hair had shocked her. When he spoke her language, she had fled like a superstitious peasant, but up close he was no ghost or demon. Just a man. A wild-looking, possibly crazed man who had saved her.

He slept lion-like in the grass. A tawny growth of stubble roughened his jaw, making him appear as if his face was chiselled out of stone and left unpolished. Emboldened by his slumber, she reached out to push away a lock of hair to get a better look. Her fingertips grazed the edge of a scar above his ear. She recoiled and looked once more to assure herself that he was asleep. Then, with morbid fascination, she traced the line of the old wound.

When she first noticed him skulking by the roadside, her heart had gone out to him. Here was one of the unfortunate souls forced to wander after the recent rebellions. Now she knew he was the sort of man who could rush into the thick of battle without a trace of fear.

His hand remained curved about the hilt of his sword. A Web of nicks and dents scored the blade. Her father would have called this a sword with a past, one that deserved respect. With her brothers and the men under her father’s command, she had been around warriors all her life. A fearsome swordsman like this would have to be desperate to beg for food like a peasant.

He had come to her rescue despite his troubles. To leave him now would be dishonourable, no matter that he was a barbarian. Picking up her swords, she rose to stand guard. Her ancestors would expect no less of her. Even Fourth Brother’s spirit would understand.

She twirled the blades restlessly, trying to attune herself to the rustle of the leaves and the scatter of bird song. The woods stretched on forever, and it seemed she would never get home. She had never done anything so wilful in her life, but Father had promised her to a man he considered an ally. He didn’t know that Li Tao was false. Not only had he been plotting against them ever since the former Emperor had died without an heir, but he’d done far, far worse. As soon as the stranger woke up, she would need to hurry home.

The sun had slipped low to wash the grove in amber light when the barbarian finally stirred. Her long shadow fell over him as his eyelids flickered open. With a startled sound, he grabbed his sword and sprang to his feet.

She brought her swords up defensively. For the ox that he was, the barbarian was unexpectedly agile. She had to remember that.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘Why do you risk your life to save a stranger?’

He peered at her, struggling to focus. Then he sank back to his knees and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. ‘Please. Slowly.’

The side of his chin had been scraped from his fall. With a lost look, he surveyed the barrier of trees, oddly vulnerable despite the sheer strength in him.

Cautiously, she slid one sword back into her boot and searched through the knapsack slung over her shoulder. She held out a waterskin, then watched in fascination as he took a long drink, his muscles gliding with every move. Centuries-old writings proclaimed the Great Empire of the West as a land of tall, powerful giants. For once, it seemed the accounts hadn’t been exaggerated.

‘You stayed,’ he said with some surprise as he handed the skin back to her.

‘I owed you a debt.’

The corner of his mouth lifted crookedly and his blue eyes slid over her. ‘To see you is payment enough.’

She must have been confused by the mix of dialects and his atrocious inflection. A man wouldn’t use such sugared tones when she was disguised this way.

She squared her shoulders. ‘Where did you learn how to speak?’

‘Why?’

‘You sound like you were taught in a brothel.’

He exploded, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter. ‘Can’t deny that,’ he said with a grin.

The words of his native tongue sounded jarring to her ears, but she recognised them. ‘I can try to speak in your language,’ she offered.

‘You know it?’ A deep frown appeared over his forehead. ‘Few in the empire do.’

She clamped her mouth shut, biting down on her lip. ‘My father is a tea merchant. He travels far outside the empire along the trade routes.’

The explanation seemed feeble at best, but his expression relaxed. ‘They call me Ryam.’

‘Ryam.’ She tested the sound of it. ‘What does it mean?’

He remained seated in the grass, his arms dangling carelessly over his knees. ‘It means nothing.’

No mention of a family name as was the custom. She didn’t ask about it for fear of being impolite.

‘My name is Li, family name Chang. You can call me Brother Li.’

‘Brother? Anyone can see you’re a woman.’

Her hand tightened on the sword. Suddenly she didn’t like the way he smiled at her at all.

‘I’m not going to harm you,’ he said quickly, holding up his hands, palms out. ‘I ran into a horde of men waving knives to help you, remember? You kicked me pretty hard for all my trouble.’

She blushed, remembering exactly where she had kicked him. ‘My name is Chang Ai Li,’ she relented.

‘Ailey. That’s a pretty name.’

She ignored the compliment. ‘What is a foreigner doing so deep in the empire?’

‘What is a woman doing travelling alone with a group of men?’

His eyes met hers without wavering, as if she were the strange one. She was becoming more curious about him with each passing moment, but it wouldn’t do to linger out in the woods with a barbarian.

‘I see now that you are not hurt.’ She spared him a final glance. ‘Farewell then.’

‘Wait, where are you going?’

He shot to his feet and her breath caught as he stretched to his full height before her. Her gaze lifted from the expanse of his chest to meet his eyes. They were so pale, like clear, cloudless skies.

‘I—I need to get back to my bodyguards,’ she stammered, her throat suddenly dry. ‘They will be looking for me.’

‘Are you sure you want to do that?’

He continued to block her path. With his size he could overpower her easily, but the look on his face showed nothing but concern. Something told her he wasn’t the sort to use his strength against a woman.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

‘That rice was meant for you. Whatever was in there, it was enough to smuggle you out of the province before you woke up. A face like yours would fetch a high price in the pleasure dens.’

A sickening feeling twisted her stomach. ‘My guards would not betray me.’

‘How long have you known them?’

She fiddled at the collar of her oversized tunic. Old Wu had hired those men under desperate circumstances, but she knew that loyalty could not be bought. Not with all the gold on this earth.

‘It’s nearly sundown,’ he said, glancing at the sky. ‘You had better stay here in case any of that scum is still about.’

Stay the night here with him and no one around for miles? Her heart thudded as if trying to escape the tight cloth bound around her breasts. He had rescued her. She should have nothing to fear from him, but there was something primal and dangerous in him. Masculine. Yang. He stood too close, close enough for her to catch his scent—an enticing mix of leather and the autumn smell of the woods that invited her to tempt fate. She couldn’t let her guard down.

With a steadying breath, she stepped back. ‘How can I be sure it is safe here?’

‘You don’t want to face those smugglers alone.’ He regarded her with a half-smile. ‘Unless you intend to fight off all of them with those knives of yours.’

‘They’re not knives. These are butterfly swords.’ She shoved the second blade away.

‘You can get back to the road in the morning,’ he said. ‘I won’t touch you if that is what you’re afraid of. I’ll start a fire.’ He moved away to gather kindling, allowing her space to consider.

Everything he spoke of made sense. Her guards had fallen too easily. Someone among them had betrayed her. Once Li Tao discovered she was gone, he would send his men in a black swarm over the area. Instinct told her she needed to keep moving, but to where? She was stranded in the southern province with night nearly upon them and no road to guide her. She laced her hands together and lowered her head in thought.

Her gaze drifted to the sword at the foreigner’s belt. The blade was larger than the ones used among the soldiers of the empire. A weapon designed to cleave armour and crush bone. He had wielded it with obvious skill.

More importantly, he didn’t recognise her.

A new plan started to form in her head. Father would call it reckless. Mother—her mother would expend much more than a single word to describe her foolishness. But what could she rely on out here besides her butterfly swords and her instincts? Even though her instincts had proven wrong with the hired guards, she had a sense of yuán fèn about this swordsman. That she would meet a barbarian, of all people, on this journey—what could that be but fate between them?

And she had no other choice.

Ailey paced as he gathered fallen twigs. She circled the clearing once, hands on her hips. The tips of the yellowed grass brushed over her calves. With each movement he caught hints of her shape beneath the drab clothing: tapered waist and gently rounded hips that would fit perfectly into a man’s hands. He had glimpsed the edge of the cloth wrapped tight around her breasts just below the neckline of her tunic. Already his imagination ran wild with the thought of her undressed and unbound before him.

With one knee set on the ground, he sparked the kindling with flint and steel. His mind could wander all it wanted where Ailey was concerned. Thoughts were harmless, even heated thoughts about pretty girls lost in the woods. As long as he kept his hands where they belonged.

The grass rustled behind him as she approached. Already he was acutely aware of her every move, his senses reaching out to search for her.

‘You decided to stay,’ he said over his shoulder.

She was looking down at him with sudden interest. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of interest he usually sought from a woman.

‘You handled yourself well against those men,’ she began.

He shrugged dismissively. ‘Common thugs.’

‘And you were outnumbered and drugged as well.’

She took a step closer. Her teeth clasped over her lower lip uncertainly while her eyes shone with hope. She had no idea what that look did to a man.

He blew out an unsteady breath. ‘Anyone would have done the same—’

‘I need your protection to help me return home,’ she interrupted in a rush.

An immediate refusal hovered on his tongue. ‘Where do you live?’ he asked instead.

‘Changan.’

The imperial capital. A good week’s journey from here and in the opposite direction of where he needed to go. The area surrounding the city would be littered with imperial soldiers who would be overjoyed to see him.

‘I can pay you,’ she said when he remained silent.

She pulled a silk purse from her belt and threw it to him before he could respond. The coins rattled as he caught it.

‘Open it.’

The weight of it told him what he’d find before he pulled at the drawstring to reveal a handful of gold and silver. He closed it and tossed it back with a flick of his wrist. The purse landed in the dirt at her feet.

‘I can’t.’

Her eyebrows shot up, puzzled. ‘You do not know how much this is.’

‘I know how much it is,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I don’t want your money.’

She lowered her tone. ‘I have offended you.’

He straightened, avoiding her eyes while needles of guilt stabbed at him, sharp and unrelenting. She didn’t know what she was asking.

‘I can’t go to Changan no matter what the price. And don’t go throwing your money around—what the hell are you doing?’

She had her hands clasped together in front of her, palm to fist, head bowed humbly.

‘I am beseeching you as a fellow swordsman. I need your protection.’

‘We’re not fellow swordsmen,’ he growled. Raising a hand to the back of his neck, he pinched at the knot forming there. ‘You don’t even know who I am.’

‘I know we are strangers and this is an unspeakable imposition, but I must get home and I cannot make it alone.’

Now it was his turn to pace. He could sense her hovering nearby, waiting for an answer as if he hadn’t already given it. His inability to help her tore at him. He couldn’t be responsible for Ailey. His last mistake was the deadliest in a long, winding chain of them. Whoever had decided he should lead other men must have been either drunk or daft. At least while he was alone, no one else could get hurt.

‘What are you doing so far from home, anyway?’ he demanded.

‘I help my family with our business.’

‘Selling tea?’

‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Tea.’

‘No respectable merchant would send his daughter out here unprotected. The imperial army no longer guards these roads.’

‘I was not alone,’ she insisted. ‘I was with bodyguards.’ Her voice trailed away and she pulled the cap from her head in an agitated motion. A single braid tumbled over her shoulder, black as ink. Unbound, it would frame her face like a dream.

No. He was not going to be swayed.

‘If I go to Changan, I’ll be hanged,’ he said with forced coldness. ‘Is that the sort of man you want to be travelling with?’

She tensed, but refused to back down. ‘What did you do? Did you steal something?’

‘No.’

‘Did you kill someone?’ Her voice faltered.

‘No.’

She shouldn’t look so relieved. He wasn’t a thief or a murderer, but he wasn’t much better. Anger and regret flooded him all at once. ‘I made a mistake.’

A half-witted, disastrous mistake. He should have never taken that command. He wasn’t fit to lead others. He could barely keep himself alive. The fire crackled and sputtered as it began to die.

‘I’ll take you to the nearest town,’ he said, tossing more wood into the fire. ‘You can find someone else to take you home.’

After a long silence, she settled in the grass beside him and pulled her legs to her chest. She didn’t argue with him, but he could see the stubborn determination in her eyes.

‘I want to help. I’m just not the right person to do it.’

‘I know you’re a good man.’

The firelight danced in her eyes, reflecting a spark of gold within the irises. His gaze strayed to her mouth despite his best intentions. Desire blindsided him, heated, unbidden and greedy.

‘I’m not,’ he muttered.

Ailey shouldn’t have been alone out there, as trusting as she was. A man could easily take advantage of her. She would be silk and moonlight in his arms. A couple of hours of forgetfulness.

He was a savage to even consider it. She was stranded and desperate. She had begged for his help and he had refused after she had shown him the only touch of kindness he’d known in a long time. The first since he had woken up in a hovel a month ago, the gash on his head still healing.

He struggled to find something civil. ‘You’re pretty good with those swords.’

‘My brothers and I would practise together. I have five—had five.’ An unmistakable look of sadness crossed her face.

‘Where in God’s earth are they?’

She grew quiet, scraping the toe of her boot against the dirt. ‘They’re scattered to different corners of the empire.’

‘I can’t believe there is no one nearby who can help you. An associate of your father’s or the town magistrate.’

‘There is no one.’

She raised her chin stubbornly. His hands itched to stroke the graceful line of her neck. He could almost taste how sweet her mouth would be, innocent and untried. Grabbing a twig, he snapped it in two and threw it into the flames. Apparently he did have some principles after all. Her faith in him, misplaced as it was, humbled him.

He drew his sword. She started at the sound, her lithe body coiled and ready. Fighter’s reflexes. The kind that took time and practice to develop.

‘I’m laying this down between us,’ he explained.

Her eyes lit up. ‘May I?’

His attempt at honour seemed lost on her. She wrapped her slender fingers around the hilt with careful reverence. Her arms sank under the weight.

‘It’s quite heavy,’ she murmured.

‘It belonged to my father.’

What had compelled him to tell her? It had been years since he’d spoken of his father. Her gaze roamed over the guard and down the length of the battered steel. The scrutiny felt so much more personal than if she had looked him over with the same admiration. Suddenly it bothered him to be sharing this moment with a stranger, this odd girl who liked swords.

Without a word, he took the weapon from her hands and placed it between them. She regarded him with a confused look before withdrawing. Hugging her arms around her knees, she scanned the darkness. The whir of cicadas filled the night. For a moment the look on her face was so vulnerable, the need to protect her overwhelmed any other urge. They were both stranded out here with no idea what the next day would bring. He wagered she wasn’t as accustomed to it as he was.

He undid the clasp of his cloak and tugged it from his shoulders.

‘I’ve got thick skin,’ he said when she protested.

That earned him a faint smile. She thanked him and wrapped the cloak around her, disappearing into the wool. Seeing her in it sent another wave of possessiveness through him.

He lowered himself to the grass and tucked his arms behind his head. ‘It’s not far to the next town.’

‘Did you just come from there?’

‘Yes. They chased me away with shovels and axes.’

She blinked at him, not understanding.

‘Someone will help you there,’ he amended.

She pulled his cloak tight around her, as if shielding herself from the night. ‘I know you have done all you can.’

A grunt was all he could muster in response.

If she knew any better, she’d have never asked for his help. Even the soft sigh of her breath seemed like seduction. He dug his nails into his palms, using the sharp bite to distract him as he stared at the outline of the trees against the sky, black on black. There was nothing he could do for her and he hated it.

‘I should tell you something,’ he said.

The grass shifted beside him as she turned onto her side. Only her face was visible from under the hood. The fire cast a deep shadow beneath her cheekbones.

‘You do not know how to lie.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t lie.’

‘You carry a sword and have five brothers trained to fight. Why would your merchant father be raising a small army?’

When she said nothing, he knew he’d hit his mark. She had the look of a cornered fox ready to flee.

‘What does it matter? You will be gone by tomorrow,’ she said.

The dwindling fire crackled in the ensuing silence. He let his head drop back against the hard ground. Apparently, he’d made the right decision not to get involved.

‘You’re nobility. Warrior class.’

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Nobility or not, Ailey was not for him. He was a barbarian in this land and always would be. Her sword-wielding brothers would castrate him if they discovered him alone with her. And then they’d kill him.




Chapter Two


Ailey woke with the first hint of daylight, blinking up at the sky in disbelief. It took a moment before she had enough command of her muscles to sit up. Though she couldn’t see any stones now, she had sworn there were a thousand of them beneath her during the night. All digging sharply into the parts of her that were most sore. It was better to wake up on the cold, bare earth than shackled in Li Tao’s wedding bed, but she didn’t want to think of how many more days and nights there were between here and the capital. She had journeyed for over a week by palanquin, escorted by the wedding party. Now she was alone.

Not completely alone.

Ryam slept beside her with his arms huddled over his chest, his chin tucked close. His sword still lay between them and the heady scent of his skin permeated the wool around her. The boyish look of him in sleep sparked some nurturing instinct. She untangled herself from his cloak to lay it gingerly over him. The material barely covered the expanse of his torso. With a muffled grunt, his long fingers curled around the wool to pull it up around him.

Fearsome warrior indeed.

Now that she was more accustomed to him, his features didn’t appear so harsh. She could even see how his strangeness might be considered handsome … if one looked long enough. She turned away as a disturbing awareness fluttered in her chest. Best to let him sleep.

The atmosphere hung damp and heavy, and a sheen of morning dew covered the grass. She stood and raised her arms over her head, letting the blood flow through her languid muscles. The stir of the breeze between the branches greeted her from the woods. A whooping call of a bird in the distance was the only sign of any living creature other than the two of them.

She had only told him part of the truth about her family the night before. Ryam was an outsider who wasn’t likely to have any ties to their enemies. She couldn’t tell who was loyal any more. She lifted her swords and paced towards the centre of the clearing. Restlessly, her right arm directed its blade in an attack pattern. Perhaps she could think of a way to persuade the foreign swordsman to stay with her. The left blade followed out of habit, echoing the same precise movements.

If she was at home, Grandmother would be watching over her as she went through her daily practice. Her grip remained easy as she let the butterfly swords circle in front of her. She tried to conjure Grandmother’s voice. Better. Now again. The familiar exercise held no comfort. She might never see her grandmother or the rest of her family again.

All her life, she’d dreamed she would leave one day to marry. Part of her had always dreaded that moment, but only with the usual sadness of any daughter leaving the comfort of childhood behind. She never imagined she’d defy her betrothal to flee back home.

It was shameful. Dishonourable. The echo of her parents’ disapproval resounded deep within her, louder than any true sound could ever be.

But how could she marry a murderer? Old Wu had told her that her brother Ming Han’s death wasn’t an accident. Li Tao was the one responsible.

‘What is that you’re doing?’

Ryam’s presence broke through her sorrow, shattering the stillness like a pebble tossed into a pond. He stood outside of arm’s reach and his gaze followed the path of her swords.

She stared at her hands as if they were no longer her own. ‘First sword form,’ she replied, at a loss.

Had he been watching her? She had been going through the motions to try to focus her thoughts. Her technique must have been unforgivable—what a strange thought to have at that moment! Her pulse hammered under his scrutiny. She was used to Grandmother watching her with the eyes of a hawk. This was so very different.

‘I was … I was practising.’

‘This is how you practise?’

He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head as he circled her. The intensity of his gaze flooded her with heat. It was a wonder she didn’t cut herself with her own swords.

‘All those elaborate patterns,’ he murmured. ‘Does that help in fights?’

‘In combat, your body falls into what it has done a thousand times before. A perfect harmony between instinct and thought.’

Her throat felt dry as she recited the words. Her elder brothers were commonly praised for their skill, but never before had a man shown such interest in her. She drew out an intricate pattern with the tip of one sword in three neat swipes, as if wielding a calligraphy brush. It gave her something to do as he stepped closer. All of the air around her seemed to rush towards him whenever he drew near.

‘Your brothers taught you this?’ he asked.

‘My grandmother.’

His laughter filled the clearing. ‘Your grandmother?’

‘Grandmother was a master.’

The next pass of her sword sliced a scant inch in front of him, taunting. He stood his ground and his smile widened.

‘So do you want to try it?’

Her swords froze. ‘Try it?’

‘My barbaric head bashing against that beautiful sword work of yours.’

A duel. Her heart was already pounding with the promise of it.

‘No,’ she replied.

‘No?’

‘You are far more experienced than I am.’

The meaning had been clear in her head as she spoke the words, yet another, more suggestive meaning loomed between them. A well of heat rose up her neck. She blamed this barbarian language.

He placed a hand to his chest with mock passion. ‘But you got the better of me yesterday when I was drugged. Don’t I deserve a chance to redeem myself?’

She was certain there was something not quite proper about a strange man offering to spar with her the day after they met. Yet this foreigner treated her with such directness and familiarity, like her brothers. He continued to taunt her with laughter shining in his eyes and the curve of his mouth hinted at an irresistible wickedness. Her stomach knotted in response.

In truth, not like her brothers at all.

‘I should get some advantage since you are so …’ she looked him up and down ‘… big.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

With a household of five brothers she knew how to pick her battles. Ryam had had more training than she and his sword could cut her in half, but its weight would slow him down. And the terms were yet to be negotiated. With a good plan, she could defeat Fourth Brother and occasionally, even Third Brother.

‘I attack first. Ten attempts. You can only defend,’ she proposed.

‘You do this often, don’t you?’

His irises shifted to storm grey, the laughter in them transforming into something dark and unknown. He held her gaze while the woods faded around her.

‘What do you say to a wager?’ He unsheathed his sword in a seductive whisper of steel. ‘If I win, you give me a kiss.’

Barbaric. But she saw her opening.

‘If I win, you take me to Changan.’

He let her heart beat on for ever before answering.

‘Agreed.’

Her palms began to sweat, and a fever rose beneath her skin. Up until then, she truly believed she could defeat him. She had been running strategies through her head, but suddenly she found herself staring at the rough stubble over his jaw and wondering if it would tickle. It was the sort of daydream that would send Grandmother’s bamboo switch stinging over her knuckles. The sort of thought that would have Mother beseeching their ancestors to bring her back to sanity.

‘After the first round—’ She ran her tongue over her lips. For all her negotiation, she had the sinking feeling this duel had slipped out of her grasp. ‘If you do not defeat me after ten attempts, you should honourably forfeit.’

‘Of course. Twenty moves?’ he asked softly.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Mind, breath, body. ‘Or first blood.’

He raised his sword in salute. The smile remained on his face as he backed away, setting the starting distance.

Ryam couldn’t resist the promise of a kiss to keep him company on the cold journey back to the frontier. It might even be worth the risk of facing imperial soldiers again—not that he intended to lose.

Ailey stood across from him, poised and still. She shook the hair from her eyes with a slight toss of her head and her braid whipped over her shoulder. When she focused again on him, the young woman disappeared and a warrior stood in her place.

The fight started here, at the moment of decision, long before his sword ever reached striking distance. Ailey radiated more determination than many a seasoned fighter. She bowed formally, bending slightly at the waist with her eyes trained on him. He considered, for a brief moment, whether Ailey had been bluffing all along.

‘Ready?’ he murmured.

She flew at him.

In a flash of silver, the butterfly swords cut tight lines through the air. He deflected in two sharp clashes of steel, surprised by the strength behind the attack.

‘I thought this was a friendly match—’

The next swipe of her blade whistled by his throat.

Ailey pushed inside his defence without fear, without caution. For a second she darted within arm’s reach. He considered simply grabbing her and wrestling her to the ground. Pin her beneath him. The image lingered dangerously. Definitely not honourable.

He had to jump back to avoid her knee as she drove it upwards.

‘I can’t take you to Changan if you kill me.’

He twisted her next attack aside only to have her spring back, eyes dark with intent, a hint of green sparking within them. She left no room, no time to recover. His heart pumped hard as instinct took hold of him. According to her rules, he could only defend and not attack. He side-stepped and angled the strikes away. Ailey knew what she was doing, keeping him close so he couldn’t use his reach against her. She danced around him with deadly elegance, matching him toe to toe. The rhythm of it almost sexual.

Better than sexual.

‘Ten,’ he announced.

‘Show me what you have,’ she retorted. The fight had sparked quite a fire in her.

Once the rules changed, he expected her to go on the defensive and hold out for the forfeit, but that wasn’t her way. She kept at him, carving up the space around him until they were breathing hard. Precise angles, perfect placement. There was considerable training there. Discipline. But he could read by the clean control of her patterns that she had never been forced to use these skills where there were no rules.

He brought the hilt down against her wrist and followed it up with a wide arc of his blade that sent her stumbling backwards. Brute force over grace. This was his fight now.

She dodged away to search for an opening. He left none. The next chain of attacks crowded her against a tree. The force of each block resonated through her. He lifted his arms and brought his sword down, forcing her to cross blades with him. Metal grated in a harsh shriek of sound. It was a blow that could cleave through armour if he hadn’t held back.

Their blades locked and she braced against his strength, her arms straining under the pressure. Her chest heaved with each breath, lips parting, and her skin glowed with the exertion. Beyond lovely.

He looked down upon her as she struggled. ‘You’re good—for a girl.’

‘How very clever,’ she snapped.

She kicked at his knee and attempted to slip away. He allowed her to advance. Unable to resist the slightest opening, she cut at his shoulder. At the last moment he stepped aside and grabbed her wrist, pinning her arms against one another. With a gasp, she dropped her swords.

He grinned. ‘Surrender.’

Her eyes narrowed defiantly.

‘I don’t even need my sword any more.’ He stabbed the point of his weapon into the ground and left it standing. ‘You know, it would serve you to be more cautious, being half my size.’

‘I am not—’ she twisted in his grasp like a rabbit in a snare ‘—half your size. Let go.’

He relaxed his hold and she stepped back, massaging her wrists. The exhilaration of the fight throbbed in his veins.

‘We agreed to some terms, I recall,’ he said.

Her lips pressed together in what was suspiciously close to a pout. ‘I honour my bets.’

He moved in to claim his prize and she went completely still. Changan or no Changan, he would still be risking life and limb to get her back to civilisation. He at least deserved one kiss for it. Her mouth parted in silent invitation and her hands curled uncertainly by her sides. He revelled in the soft catch in her breath as he leaned closer. Then he stopped just shy of her. Her eyes clouded with the unspoken question.

His mouth curved into a smile. ‘The deal was you were supposed to give me a kiss.’

Every muscle within her pulled tight, poised on a knife’s edge of anticipation as she stared at his mouth. He had planned this. His eyes flickered with amusement, reflecting sunlight and shade. The rough beard on his chin gave him a wild, dangerous look. Stiffly, she lifted herself onto her toes, bracing a hand against his shoulders. He was steel beneath her grasp.

Did he have to watch her so intently?

She closed her eyes. It was the only way she would have the courage to do this. Still he waited. It would be a brief meeting of lips. Nothing to be afraid of. If only her heart would remember to keep beating. Holding her breath, she let her lips brush over his. It was the first time she’d ever kissed a man and her mind raced with it. She hardly had a sense of his mouth at all, though the shock of the single touch rushed like liquid fire to her toes.

Her part of the bargain was fulfilled. It could be done and over right then. Recklessly, after a moment’s hesitation, she touched her lips once again to him. This time she lingered, exploring the feel of him little by little. His mouth was warm and smooth and wonderful, all of it new and unexpected. He still hadn’t moved, even though her knees threatened to crumble and her heart beat like a thunder drum. Finally he responded with the barest hint of pressure. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers. Without thinking, she let her fingers dig into the sleek muscle of his arms. A low, husky sound rumbled in his throat before he wrapped his arms around her.

Heaven and earth. She hadn’t been kissing him at all. The thin ribbon of resistance uncoiled within her as he took control of the kiss. His stubble scraped against her mouth, raking a raw path of sensation through her. She could do nothing but melt against him, clutching the front of his tunic to stay on her feet.

A delicious heat radiated from him. His hands sank low against the small of her back to draw her close as he teased her mouth open. His breath mingled with hers for one anguished second before his tongue slipped past her lips to taste her in a slow, indulgent caress. A sigh of surrender escaped from her lips, a sound she hadn’t imagined she was capable of uttering.

His hands slipped from her abruptly and she opened her eyes to see his gaze fixed on her.

‘Well,’ he breathed, ‘you do honour your bets.’

Though he no longer touched her, it was as if the kiss hadn’t ended. He was still so close, filling every sense and thought. She stumbled as she tried to step away and he caught her, a knowing smile playing over his mouth. Her balance was impeccable. She never lost her footing like that, just standing there. His grip tightened briefly before he let her go. Even that tiny, innocent touch filled her with renewed longing.

In a daze, she bent to pick up her fallen swords. Her pulse throbbed as if she had run a li without stopping. In her head she was still running, flying fast.

‘Now that our bargain is settled …’ she began hoarsely ‘… we should be going.’

To her horror her hands would not stop shaking. Brushing past him, she gathered up her knapsack and slung it over her shoulder. ‘You said the next town was hours from here?’

He collected his sword while a slow grin spread over his face. She couldn’t look at him without conjuring the feel and the taste of him. Head down, she ploughed through the tall grass.

‘A good match,’ she attempted.

He caught up to her easily with his long stride. ‘Yes, quite good,’ he replied, the tone rife with meaning.

Her cheeks burned hot as she forced her gaze on the road ahead. She could barely tell day from night, couldn’t give her own name if asked.

She had to get home and denounce Li Tao. Warn her father. She had thought of nothing else since her escape, until this blue-eyed barbarian had appeared. It was fortunate they were parting when they reached town. When he wasn’t looking she pressed her fingers over her lips, which were still swollen from that first kiss.

She was outmatched, much more outmatched than when they had crossed swords.




Chapter Three


It was supposed to be one little kiss. The sort of meaningless flirtation he’d engaged in many times over. She would slap him afterwards, as he deserved, but it would be worth it. He hadn’t counted on his hunger at the first taste of her. Or her willing response.

Too sweet for words.

Ailey forged ahead, bundling up her thick braid to shove it under her cap. She could chop off all her hair and dress in rags—she would still heat his blood to a boil. Her hands trembled faintly and the scoundrel in him couldn’t help gloat at the sign that she was just as affected.

He hooked his thumbs into his sword belt as a reminder to keep his hands where they belonged. Conversation came slowly in fits and starts as they walked along the stretch of open road. They stopped after an hour on foot, resting beneath the shade at the side of the road.

He nodded towards the bruise forming at her wrist. ‘Sorry for that.’

‘You hit hard,’ she said, not really complaining. She rubbed at the spot before pulling her sleeve over it.

‘You were coming at me like you meant it.’

He let his gaze wander over her face as she took a drink from the waterskin. This girl wielded swords like an avenging angel, then kissed him with her eyes clamped shut. Yet her mouth had moved against his with the same bold instinct with which she fought.

Heat flooded his body anew. He forced himself to ignore it. ‘How long have you been training with those swords?’

‘Since I was a child. We would spar in the training yard.’

‘You and your brothers?’

‘And the soldiers in training.’

Sword-fighting. The topic was neutral enough. There was a forced casualness in her tone and she avoided his eyes as they started on their way again, but he caught how she passed the tip of her tongue over her lips and pressed them together, as if to recapture the fleeing sensation.

Kissing Ailey had been a mistake. A gloriously wonderful mistake.

‘Suddenly the boys stopped fighting seriously,’ she went on. ‘Instead they would tease me, acting like monkeys.’

‘They must have realised one day that you were a girl.’

And enticing enough to make any boy act the fool. Or any man, for that matter. He tried to imagine where she had come from, the well-bred daughter of a military official who studied how to fight instead of embroidery or whatever it was women typically learned.

‘Your master taught you well.’ She was still avoiding his gaze, but otherwise managed to fall into an easy stride beside him. Her long legs carried her effortlessly.

‘I have no master,’ he replied.

‘But someone must have trained you. Your father, then?’

He stiffened. This talk of family was even more alien to him than this exotic land. ‘I suppose I learned a few things from him.’

His father’s brand of training had consisted of surviving one skirmish after another as they wandered endlessly through the countryside. That had changed when he joined up with Adrian’s men as they fought off raiders at the borders of their homeland. He had duties, men he could rely on and who relied on him. But now he was alone again with nothing but his sword and, for the moment, one very curious girl.

‘Your father must be very honoured by your skill.’

Ailey’s courteous flattery grated on him.

‘If he were alive.’

She fell silent at the brusqueness of his reply and her expression took on that tranquil, inward quality. Probably reflecting on ill-mannered barbarians who knew nothing about honour or polite conversation.

‘There’s the town,’ he said, looking into the distance.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she stared at the faint outline. ‘I can go on my own from here.’

Time had slipped by quickly. The rush of the morning’s battle and the all-too-brief kiss afterwards had faded away. It was probably better for her if he did leave, but he could at least escort her safely into town as he’d promised.

‘I’ll take you,’ he said.

‘Won’t it be dangerous for you?’

‘No more dangerous than the rest of the empire.’

He hadn’t known how much he missed having someone to speak to. Even if she did ask too many questions about things he didn’t want to be reminded of. But he couldn’t drag his feet any longer. It had taken over a month for him to recover enough to make this journey and there were many obstacles to cross between here and the frontier.

Within the hour, the road led them to the town gates. It was decently sized for a rural city. The streets were paved with stone and wooden buildings rose two floors high, stacked closely together. Even in the simplest of towns, Ryam could see the empire’s wealth. Nothing like the scattered settlements of his homeland.

The main avenue fed into a central market lined with shops. Merchants displayed baskets of fruit and vats of crayfish, along with a collection of handmade wares along the street. Ryam hunched his shoulders and dragged his hood over his head, trying to disappear into the crowd. The townsfolk stopped haggling to stare as he passed. It was impossible to disappear into a crowd when he stood head and shoulders above the average man.

‘Perhaps there is a shipment here headed for Changan,’ Ailey continued, oblivious to how the crowd parted in their wake.

A wooden ball bounced onto the cobbled street and rolled in front of them. A young boy scrambled forwards and crouched at Ryam’s feet with his little fingers clutched around the toy. Suddenly, the boy noticed the hulking shadow over him and craned his neck upwards, mouth agape.

At that, Ryam pulled Ailey into the narrow gap between the shops. The hum of the market crowd continued around them.

‘We can’t just go wandering the streets,’ he hissed. ‘What are you planning to do?’

‘Hire someone to take me home.’

Because he wouldn’t. ‘And if there’s no one?’

‘Then I go alone.’

‘You can’t.’

What would she do? Hire a band of mercenaries who would ignore the fact that she was worth a lot more than that bag of coins she carried?

‘Your father is obviously a powerful man. There must be someone here who can help you.’

‘You don’t understand.’ The mention of her father made her shoulders draw tight. A wisp of hair escaped from the cap to tease around the curve of one ear. She tucked it back impatiently. ‘I cannot trust the city officials. Not in this province.’

What in God’s name was she involved in? ‘Then find a way to send a message to your father or … I don’t know. Think of something better than roaming the countryside with your swords.’

‘Why are you so concerned now?’

‘I went through a lot of trouble to save you.’ It was the best he could muster. Leaving her was the only rational decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she was looking at him like that.

‘I need to find a stable. The journey will take too long on foot.’ She nodded slowly as if to convince herself. ‘It can’t be too far to the capital.’

‘You don’t even know, do you?’

She ignored him to peer around the corner of the build ing.

‘Tell me who you’re hiding from,’ he demanded.

It took an effort for her to meet his eyes. ‘There are powerful men plotting against my father. Against the empire.’

With that perfectly vague explanation, she slipped past him to move down the alley, away from the marketplace. He didn’t know what would be worse for her, being seen with him or being caught alone by whoever she was running from. They twisted through the city, skirting along dank lanes of grey brick while the ripe smell of rotting cabbage assailed them. Ailey continued unperturbed as a rat scurried across her path. Its long tail disappeared into a corner.

The stables were located near the outskirts of town across the canal. He was forced to wait outside while he listened to Ailey’s voice through the doorway. She was talking numbers with the stableman.

Guilt gnawed a hole in his stomach as he listened to her. God’s crooked nose. He knew what it was like to be alone and fending for himself, but she didn’t. Ailey came from a wealthy family where she was cared for and protected. When she emerged from the stable, her look of triumph made him feel even worse.

‘I purchased two horses,’ she said. ‘They will be ready to ride by morning.’

‘Two?’

‘How else will you get home?’

‘You shouldn’t have.’

She avoided his gaze, embarrassed. ‘You have a long journey as well. Consider it payment of my debt to you for rescuing me.’

‘There is no debt.’

The flush of her cheeks reminded him immediately of their strange morning and the surprising fierceness of their match followed by her lips pressed softly to his. Bold and demure all at once.

Ailey had a generous soul at the heart of her. He, on the other hand, was the sort who could ruthlessly kiss a woman until she was melting against him and then abandon her hours later to the treacherous countryside.

‘What did you tell him?’ he asked.

‘I told him I was a nobleman’s son.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You do not look like a man.’

‘He believed my story,’ she insisted, chin raised. ‘Now we must find a place for the night.’

She turned to the tangle of streets behind them. With a deep breath, she plunged back into the maze. He was certain she didn’t feel any safer in this city than he did. At the next juncture the alleyways branched out like crooked fingers. Ailey looked from one to the other, lost. He indicated the correct direction with a flick of his hand.

‘There’s a good reason I can’t go with you,’ he said.

She kept her attention focused straight ahead. ‘You’ve already told me.’

‘I’m more likely to get us both killed than return you home safely.’

‘I’m not completely helpless.’ Plenty of pride in her. Her back stiffened with it. ‘I’ll be safe enough once I’m out of this province.’

‘Just be careful.’

At the next corner, she halted so quickly he came up nearly against her heels. A crowd gathered around a group of soldiers wearing black and red uniforms. A crier dressed in embroidered state robes read from a scroll.

He could only make out bits of it. ‘What are they saying?’

‘It is a proclamation by Li Tao.’

‘Who’s Li Tao?’

‘We have to go.’ She shrank away from the street, but he blocked her path.

‘You need to tell me what’s going on. Now.’

She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, her face pale as she looked up at him. ‘Li Tao is the man I was supposed to marry.’

‘Marry? You’re running away from your husband?’

‘He is not my husband.’

‘What was all that nonsense about a plot against the empire?’ He had kissed her breathless and she belonged to another man. That stung more than it had a right to.

Ailey froze as a sharp command rang from the plaza. It echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway.

‘The soldiers are searching the streets,’ she whispered frantically.

He ushered her away from the square as fast as he could without breaking into a suspicious run. They wove past crates and debris that littered the alleyway. A window on an upper floor had been propped open. He stacked several crates on top of one another and offered his hand.

‘Hurry. Go on up.’

She hooked her foot on to the corner of the pile and started climbing, grabbing on to the ledge. He watched, momentarily distracted, as she wriggled her slender hips through the opening.

Focus, man. After a final sweep of the alley, he hoisted himself up the rickety tower and kicked the crates over before pulling through the window.

The window led into a storeroom. An earthy, medicinal scent permeated the air and the low ceiling just allowed him to stand upright. He peered into the darkness and made out several woven baskets piled high with dried herbs and roots.

Ailey’s voice came from the far end of the room. ‘Behind the ginseng.’

‘Which one is that?’

A pale hand waved from the corner. He picked his way through the baskets and crouched beside her against the wall.

‘You need to tell me the truth, Ailey.’

She let out a breath and her fingers worked the edge of her tunic nervously. ‘It was an arranged marriage.’

‘So all of this is because you don’t want to marry this man?’

Her gaze shot up to him. ‘During the wedding procession, I discovered Li Tao betrayed our family. I hired mercenaries to attack the wedding procession so it would look as if I were abducted.’

Somehow he believed her. He already knew she couldn’t tell a convincing lie.

‘This Li Tao must be a powerful man if he can send soldiers to scour the countryside for you.’

‘He is jiedushi of this province.’

Ryam let his head thud back against the wall. The military governor. These warlords had complete power over the armies and laws of their circuits. He had to admire her spirit even though no good could come of it.

‘That’s why you can’t go to anyone for help.’

She sank her chin onto her knees in an uncharacteristically childish gesture. ‘I never intended to put you in so much danger.’

‘Do you know what this looks like to anyone who finds us? The governor’s wife and a barbarian.’

‘I told you, I am not his wife.’

He continued, undaunted. ‘They’ll hang me, but that is nothing compared to what they will do to you.’

‘My family did not raise their daughter to live in fear.’

The rafters creaked, hushing them into tense silence as muffled voices rose from below. They crouched, listening and waiting.

‘I cannot let them find me,’ she whispered once the voices quieted. ‘Li Tao will force me to marry him. He only wants this marriage to gain my father’s trust.’

As much as she tried to hide it, he could tell she was frightened. In the empire, a woman was first her father’s property and then her husband’s. She was defying both of them.

‘We’ll stay here awhile. Wait them out,’ he said. ‘The soldiers will move on in a couple of hours.’

‘What then?’

A sense of foreboding settled over him like a shroud. She was looking to him for answers. The last time anyone had trusted his lead, it had ended in bloodshed. His head throbbed with phantom pain as he recalled the last moments of the skirmish. Imperial soldiers had swarmed over their caravan, overpowering them. A better man could have stopped it.

‘What should we do, then?’ she repeated.

‘We can’t roam the streets all night and we can’t stay here.’ He needed to think. For once, he needed to make the right decision and not rush into battle.

‘Perhaps we can sneak past the guards to the main gates,’ Ailey suggested.

‘There are soldiers at the gates and patrolling the streets. You can’t leave town tonight. You’ll need to hide.’

‘But where?’

He knew of places, dark corners in any city that he would never send a woman to alone. ‘We’ll find a place at the edge of town. Tomorrow morning, we leave with the first light of dawn once the gates open.’

The scent of herbs hung heavy and bittersweet as they waited in silence. Ailey sank back against the wall. Her shoulder inadvertently brushed against him. He was becoming greedy for every touch, no matter how innocent.

Changan, the imperial capital. He’d been there before. And he could handle imperial soldiers … if there weren’t too many. He had known it would come to this the moment she sank into his arms after their duel. Perhaps he had known even sooner, when he had seen her strength and her fierce determination to get home.

Maybe this was just another distraction, another reason to avoid returning to the Gansu corridor where his comrades waited. No, he was wrong about that. No one was waiting for him. They probably thought he was dead.

He had enough problems taking care of his own skin. What made him think he could protect this woman who seemed to be in more trouble than he was? That blow to the head he’d suffered hadn’t knocked any sense into him after all.

Ailey held her breath. He had said they would go together. His manners might be strange and uncultured, but there was a core of honour in him. She hadn’t been wrong about that.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

His only reply was a brief shrug of his shoulders. He was helping her at great risk to himself. More than he knew. But she needed him to get home. It was the only way.

The morning came back to her as they huddled in the corner, trying not to touch and failing. His mouth had crushed against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made the memory more overwhelming.

His hands had urged her close until she was pressed against the hard muscle of his chest. She had cast all caution aside, assuming he would leave. But he was still here. The heat of his body radiated through his tunic to find its way to her.

He shifted and she responded by inching towards the wall. His features were shadowed in the dim corner and the steady rhythm of his breathing reminded her how precariously close he was. She held herself perfectly still, afraid that if she moved she would find herself falling towards him, closing the scant space between them.

As if sensing her thoughts, he pulled away to the window, leaving her so quickly the air beside her still tingled with his presence. He braced his hands against the frame with head bent and shoulders pulled taut, a powerful silhouette against the light outside. The silence went on for so long that she began to worry he had changed his mind.

‘I don’t see any more of them,’ he reported, peering down into the alley. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘What Li Tao has done is unforgivable. I would rather die than become his wife.’

Ryam nodded, and moved away from the window. ‘We’ll go out the back way.’

Reckless, she could hear Father proclaiming. To imagine she was safe with a barbarian she’d barely met.

Always feeling, never thinking, Mother scolded.

But she had thought very carefully and she trusted Ryam more than anyone else in this province. This was Li Tao’s domain and he would kill them both if he found them.

She had vowed to her parents to be a dutiful wife, but that was one vow she could not fulfil. She prayed they would forgive her for her disobedience. She hoped they would believe her when she spoke against one of the most powerful men in the empire.

Her legs burned as she stood and the blood rushed back into them. They must have been crouched there for over an hour. Ryam led as they picked their way around the baskets towards the stairway. He scanned the room below on the first floor, and gestured towards the door at the back.

She peered over the railing before starting down, keeping her step as light as possible. Midway, a board creaked beneath her feet. Ryam muttered a curse as the voices halted down below. He gave her a small push.

‘Run!’

They bolted down the stairs and through the door, abandoning any attempt at stealth. She took off around the corner and ducked into an alcove. Ryam shoved himself in beside her. They both held still, pressed against the brick. When it was clear that no one was following, she doubled over, gasping for breath.

‘We’d make very bad thieves.’

She looked up to see Ryam grinning. He had a good spirit. She laughed, caught up in it. Part of her couldn’t help but enjoy this adventure.

Once her breathing returned to normal, she poked her head around the enclosure. The streets had emptied in the late afternoon and the sounds of the market faded. Ryam emerged first, surveying the area before pulling her behind him. He shielded her as they ventured forwards. The protective gesture made her want to press even closer. She didn’t have much experience with cities. She definitely had no knowledge of the back alleys they were navigating. Most of her life had been spent in her family home nestled in the mountains, surrounded by family and household servants.

‘Where is it that you came from?’ she asked.

‘The other end of the world.’

‘You seem to have been here for a long time.’

‘Years and years.’ His answers became noticeably clipped when he spoke of his past.

‘We have a name for your land. We call it “Ta Chin”, the Great Empire of the West.’

‘I don’t come from any great empire.’

She frowned.

‘That empire you speak of no longer exists. Our kingdom—what was our kingdom—is a small one compared to this empire.’

The journey across the silk routes was said to be a treacherous one. If she only had the time to ask all the questions she wanted to. He must have amazing stories to tell.

‘Are you part of the lost legion?’ she asked. ‘The wandering soldiers they speak about?’

He didn’t answer immediately. ‘I suppose I am.’ He cast a sideways glance at her. ‘Your people do love their legends.’

His smile made her pulse skip. He was different and mysterious, and curiosity made her bold. Bold enough to kiss a man she barely knew. She was suddenly out of breath. Her mind kept falling like water down the mountainside back to that moment.

‘They say those swordsmen marched on Changan during the palace rebellion. Were you with them?’ she continued.

This time his hesitation was obvious. ‘Maybe the less we know about each other’s stories, the better.’

‘What do you mean?’

He halted to turn to her. ‘The rest of the empire is not as tolerant as you towards unwashed barbarians.’

She stared at the coppered spots where the sun had darkened his cheeks and the rugged growth of his beard. It was a face unlike any she’d ever known.

‘I don’t think of you as an unwashed barbarian,’ she said softly.

He started to speak, but stopped. The intensity of his gaze made her shift uncomfortably. ‘We need to get you to Changan as fast as possible,’ he said. ‘And then I need to disappear.’

As if to make a point, he forged ahead in long strides that left no room for conversation. She couldn’t deny what he was saying. The empire had become fearful and suspicious. No one trusted anyone in the capital, let alone outsiders. She hated living with that dark cloud always over her.

At the end of the passage, Li Tao’s proclamation had been pasted on the wall. She tore down one paper. Ryam stared over her shoulder at the black brushstrokes.

‘What does all that say?’

So he couldn’t read the characters. That was fortunate. She didn’t know how he would react if he discovered who she truly was.

‘Li Tao is offering a reward of a hundred taels of silver for my return.’

He whistled. ‘The man must be as rich as the Emperor.’

With a scowl, she crumpled the paper into a tight ball and tossed it aside.

Ryam wove a path through the alleys with Ailey close behind. He had never been this deep within the borders before, but the change was noticeable even to a foreigner. The regional armies were wary. Soldiers were authorised to confiscate weapons and imprison anyone they thought was a threat.

They would need to stay off the main roads from here all the way to the capital. He had travelled for the last month in hiding, sleeping beneath bridges and seeking refuge in remote monasteries when they would let him. But he was responsible for Ailey’s safety now as well. Having a woman with him made things more difficult.

He ducked through a broken section of the wall.

‘How do you know where we are going?’ she asked.

‘These towns are all the same once you’ve been to enough of them.’

Vice lurked in the forgotten corners of any city of this size. Hideouts for smugglers, thieves, and citizens who wanted to escape into anonymity for the evening. He knew he had found their destination the moment they emerged in front of a dingy building tucked into a dead end. Red lanterns swayed from the eaves.

Ailey stopped short. ‘Is this a brothel?’

‘No. Let me see your money.’

She kept her eyes on the shadowed figure perched just inside the doorway as she handed the purse to him. He picked out several coins and then untied his cloak.

‘Put this on and stay close,’ he instructed.

The flash of silver was enough to get them past the guard. Once inside, the entrance hall glowed with the gritty light of oil lamps and pipe smoke. Ryam pushed through the beaded curtain and the strands clinked and slid around them. The shuttered windows of the main room cast it into perpetual night-time. Copper coins changed hands from one huddled figure to another at the tables.

Ailey pulled his cloak tight around her and inched closer to him. Ivory and wooden dice clinked into porcelain bowls and the low hum of conversation did not rise the slightest at their arrival. The gamblers looked up with casual disinterest as Ryam and Ailey passed by. After a brief glance, the betting resumed. A man could be tattooed as a criminal and still show his face in a den like this.

An ancient-looking man with a white beard that tapered to a point sat in the far corner, surrounded by cronies. One of them blocked Ryam’s path when he came forwards. The den master continued to sip his tea, staring at the bottom of the cup as if contemplating something profound.

‘A room,’ Ryam said, handing over the two coins.

The den master glanced once at the silver and pointed a bony finger to the stairs. With a nod of thanks, Ryam ushered Ailey across the floor and up the steps. He pushed the first door open just as a man stumbled past with a woman in a flowery robe on his arm. Her cloyingly sweet perfume wafted into the narrow space of the hallway before the couple disappeared into the adjacent room. Ryam tugged Ailey into their chamber and, within minutes, faint moans and an unmistakable pounding came from the other side of the wall.

Ailey threw back her hood and planted her hands onto her hips. ‘Are you certain it’s safe here?’

‘Yes.’ He shut the door and dragged a chair to block it. ‘A place like this doesn’t care about silver if it means contact with authorities.’

Ailey stared at the bare walls in dismay. She wrapped her arms around herself, sticking them close to her sides as if not wanting to touch anything. ‘I’ll trust your judgement.’

‘You take the bed,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the floor.’

The bed was made of wooden slats covered with a thin, padded mattress. She made a face at the ash-coloured quilt lying rumpled upon it. The thread was worn bare in spots and marked with dark stains.

‘I think I would rather take the floor.’




Chapter Four


Ailey watched from the alley as two of Li Tao’s soldiers strode into the stable the next morning. She berated herself for not dropping an extra silver coin to convince the stableman to keep quiet. But what did she know about bribery and double-dealings?

‘Time to think of another plan,’ Ryam muttered from behind her.

She reached down to pull the butterfly swords free. The weight of the steel emboldened her as she headed in the opposite direction. ‘We’ll leave on foot before Li Tao’s men can assemble.’

Ryam caught up to her. ‘Put those away. Having your weapon drawn only invites trouble.’

She hesitated, but did as he said. He had experience surviving among strangers. That held more weight than all her hours in the practice yard. They hovered in the alleyway at the edge of the central market. Merchants had set up their stalls in the square and the morning crowd gathered. A cluster of soldiers prowled the plaza in their black-and-red uniforms. They scanned the market without particular interest. It seemed that no one had yet reported her presence.

Ryam gestured towards several workmen loading earthenware pots onto a wagon. ‘That shipment is leaving town. Get in the back.’

‘But Li Tao’s men are everywhere.’

‘Walk with purpose. You’ll blend in.’

‘What about you?’ She looked him up and down.

His fingers tightened briefly over her shoulder. ‘You go first. I’ll be watching.’

Were all his people so fearless? Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from the cover of the shops. Sunlight slanted over the rooftops and blinded her, but she kept her pace steady even though her heartbeat thundered in her ears. If Li Tao’s men detected her, she might be able to fend off two or three of them, but the rest would surround her. Ryam would be dragged into the struggle.

She fought the urge to glance back. She had wanted to warn him to leave if there was trouble, but he would have considered it an insult. A swordsman would never run like that. The workmen disappeared into the storehouse as she came near. She climbed onto the wagon and ducked beneath the canvas. The coarse packing straw scraped against her.

The next moments stretched out before her as she crouched in the darkness. There were wooden crates on either side of her and she tried to burrow between them. The shuffle of the market droned on outside. At any moment, the shouting would begin. The soldiers would spot Ryam and they’d circle him like wolves. She closed a hand around the hilt of her sword. If he was discovered, she’d have to help him. She was certain he’d do the same for her. He had done the same for her.

What was taking so long? Would he abandon her now? Just as she reached out to lift the covering, Ryam slipped under. He nudged the crates aside to shove out a spot for himself.

‘Heaven and earth! How did you get past them?’ she asked.

‘They do call me ghost man, after all.’

She wanted to throw her arms around him, but his elbow poked into her ribs and her leg was crushed against one of the pots. They went still at the sound of voices from outside. The workmen came back to load more crates and she didn’t dare move or breathe or even blink. She sighed with relief when the wagon finally lurched forwards.

The clay pots rattled around them as the wagon rumbled along the road. They attempted to rearrange themselves and Ryam bit back an oath as her knuckles struck him across his nose.

‘I’ll look outside,’ he said after they had travelled a distance away.

He picked his way through the crates. A sliver of light cut through the darkness as he lifted the canvas.

‘No one’s following.’ He let it fall back down.

‘Do you know where we are?’

‘That way is north to Changan.’ He indicated with his thumb. ‘We’re headed south.’

Deeper into the warlord’s territory. ‘We need to get out of here. They’ll start searching the roads soon.’

‘There are woods to the right. We can jump and run for it.’

‘Let me see.’

She crawled over his knees to peek out at the roadside. The area he spoke of wasn’t far, just beyond a stretch of wild grass.

‘Jump and run?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Jump and run. The grass will break the fall.’

The driver handled his team of horses, oblivious to them. She lifted the cover and crouched low, preparing herself. With a deep breath, she launched herself away from the wagon. Her knees buckled against the hard ground and a shock of pain streaked up her legs. Before she knew it, she was rolling in a blur of grass and sky.

She ended on her back, gasping for breath. Sharp stones dug into her spine and she tried to remain as still as possible. If she moved, she might shatter to pieces.

A moment later, Ryam’s head and shoulders blocked the sky above her. ‘Are you all right?’

Miserably, she shook her head no.

‘Is anything broken?’

Everything felt broken. It hurt to breathe. She wriggled her fingers and made a face. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Good. Come on.’ He hoisted her to her feet.

Her knees protested as she staggered through the wild grass, but she ignored the pain and struggled to keep up with Ryam. As soon as they cleared the tree line, she collapsed to the ground. He crouched beside her and lifted her arm gingerly, inspecting the broad scrape on her elbow. In the last two days she had suffered more bruises than in all her sparring matches. Mother would scold for days if she ever made it home.

‘The grass … did not … break the fall,’ she accused.

His face broke into a wide grin. ‘Tough girl.’

‘I have five—four brothers.’

His clear eyes held on to her as if he would never turn away. No man had ever looked at her like that.

‘Do you need a minute?’

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and everything became brighter. His mouth was so, so close and her throat went completely dry.

‘N-no. We should go.’ She struggled to stand, but her knees hadn’t stopped shaking.

He offered his hand to help her to her feet. His fingers combed lightly through hers, but immediately let go when she stiffened beside him. She was left standing at a loss, covered in dirt from head to toe. She swiped at a strand of loose hair, but it swung defiantly back in front of her face.

‘Are you still planning to go all the way to the capital?’ he asked.

‘I must,’ she said. ‘As fast as we can. I need to warn my father.’

‘Then we had better start moving. It’s a long way.’

In Changan, she’d have to justify her disobedience to her family. They believed she was now wedded to Li Tao, gaining them a strong military ally against their enemies. What her father didn’t realise was that Li Tao was the enemy.

Everything had changed since they’d left their home in the mountains to install themselves in the imperial palace. Father and Mother had become so suspicious. Their discussions now centred on politics and hidden motives. She wanted to forget the turbulence of the imperial court and the constant power struggle, but she couldn’t.

The warmth of Ryam’s concern stayed with her as she fell into step beside him. It didn’t make sense, this giddiness that spun her around whenever he was near. When they reached Changan he would go his own way. He would be nothing but a memory and she would never be able to explain this time with him, this feeling blooming inside her, to anyone. Not when she couldn’t understand it herself.

Ryam guided them northwards, in the general direction of the imperial city. Ailey asked him only once whether he knew where he was going as they climbed over twisted roots, turning and winding through the green.

The forest spread in tangled vines around them and folded them into shaded darkness. Clear line of sight extended only for several feet in any direction. Any search party would need to spend a considerable amount of energy to track them. Ryam exhaled, letting the tension drain from him momentarily in the shelter of the woods.

‘We should have some cover in here,’ he said.

Some of the trees grew so thick that ten men could encircle the trunks. It was another sign of the empire’s wealth, the lush woodlands at their disposal, fed by several great rivers. Enough wood to build the most magnificent of cities and palaces.

They reached a stream and followed it. A canopy of cypress and ginkgo grew along the bank. The roots crawled like snakes along the earth, dipping tapered fingers into the water.

‘These trees are sacred.’ Ailey ran her fingers along the trunk of one as she walked by. The fan-shaped leaves flickered yellow-green with the breeze. ‘They live for thousands of years. Longer than the empire. We see them in temples all the time.’

Changan wouldn’t be hard to find. They only had to head north in search of the grand canal that flowed into the capital. All the major roads would lead them there as well, but they needed to stay hidden.

Ailey walked along the reeds that lined the water, arms held out for balance. God’s feet, she moved with such graceful confidence. ‘Grandmother always spoke of the forests of the south. She learned her technique from a southern master.’

Her hips swayed their seductive rhythm before him. He nodded absently and considered dunking his head into the cold water. All he needed to do was get her home and get out of there.

‘Is there anyone in your family who doesn’t wield sharp weapons?’ he asked.

‘Mother disapproves of my swords. She says no man would want a woman with such rough hands.’

She hopped over a tangle of roots, light-footed and sure over the uneven ground. He saw absolutely no problem with her hands or any other part of her.

‘Mother was so happy when Father arranged this marriage,’ she continued sombrely.

‘So why did you run away?’

‘Li Tao is—ruthless.’ She seemed unwilling to say more.

‘He’s also rich and powerful,’ he pressed her. ‘And in command of an army of thousands. Not the sort of man who takes refusal lightly.’

The tail of her braid whipped over her shoulder as she faced him. ‘It is not as if I’m refusing Li Tao because he is old or ugly or fat.’

‘Well, is he?’

She stopped, caught off guard. ‘I—I don’t know. I mean, it doesn’t matter.’

‘You don’t know if he’s ugly?’

‘I’ve never seen him. When he came to fetch me for the wedding procession I was wearing a red scarf over my face.’

‘So he hasn’t seen you either?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Now I understand.’

She cast him a wary glance. ‘Understand what?’

‘You were marrying a man you’d never met. Of course you had doubts.’

‘You don’t understand at all.’ She turned on her heel and continued down the bank. Her stride had lost its carefree gait. ‘In our custom, it would be the greatest insult for a bride to refuse a match simply because she did not like the look of her husband. It would be disrespectful to his family and a great dishonour to mine.’

‘It’s not important that you at least see each other before being wed?’

‘Not at all. I would trust my parents would make me a good match.’

It was hard to believe someone with such unquestioning faith would run away from an arranged marriage. Even if she had been wilful or stubborn, it was unlikely a woman of her standing would risk so much to defy convention. Perhaps there was a lover. The thought alone sent a hot streak of possessiveness through him, unwarranted as it was. But why would she want to return to her family when they would certainly denounce her? Besides, her every touch spoke of innocence. He knew the signs well enough to steer clear under most circumstances.

‘You wouldn’t prefer someone that was strong and handsome?’ he goaded.

‘That doesn’t matter to me.’

‘What if this Li Tao is ancient? Wrinkled, toothless …’

‘He is not!’ Her eyes grew wide despite her denial. She lowered her voice as if in confidence. ‘Mother told me he was twice my age.’

‘And what is that?’

‘I was born the year of the dragon.’

‘Dragons, rabbits, tigers,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I could never figure out your calendar.’

She regarded him through her lashes, blushing. ‘I have nineteen years. I know that is very old for marriage, but the last years have been … very unusual.’

Ailey was beyond adorable when flustered. He leapt across the stream ahead of her and stretched out his hand. She landed before him in the moss, bracing against his arms to steady herself. This time he held on. Her pulse fluttered beneath his fingers.

‘You don’t want someone who makes your heart beat faster?’ he challenged.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, too pretty and too curious for her own good. It took all of his will to hold himself back.

‘I … I don’t.’

Little liar. He could pull her into his arms right then and she would melt against him. Her mouth would taste just as sweet as he remembered.

He let go of her. He had to.

He swallowed forcibly, words failing him. ‘So you were ready to marry him no matter how old and ugly he was. What made you change your mind?’

He held himself apart from her, unmoving while his heart threatened to punch a hole through his ribcage. The force of his reaction stunned him and for some reason, he needed to know exactly what her ties were to the man she had been promised to.

Ailey swayed in the damp earth of the riverbank, caught off balance at his abrupt departure. ‘The wedding ceremony was to be completed before his family altar. On the journey, I was carried inside a palanquin, while he rode with the escort.’

‘A man would be mad with lust being forced to wait so long to see his bride.’

She frowned at him. ‘This is not something I do lightly. My family could disown me.’

He stopped his teasing when he saw the sudden tension in her shoulders. He was beginning to see that Ailey never did anything lightly. Every word carried weight with her.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘What happened?’

‘You must know that there have been uprisings within the empire over the last year. My fourth brother, Ming Han, had a military command, same as all my brothers. He was sent to put down a rebellion near the border of the Jiannan province. Li Tao’s domain.’

‘Which is where we are now.’

‘The empire is too large for the imperial army to control,’ she explained. ‘Control of the empire is a delicate balance between the imperial forces and the regional armies. Han joined with Li Tao’s troops in the effort. We later received reports that Han had been ambushed by rebels and killed.’

She looked away, pressing her lips tightly together. For a moment, he thought she’d lose the fight. Always so strong.

‘You don’t have to explain,’ he said.

‘No, I want you to understand. A soldier who had once served under my father swore Ming Han was killed by Li Tao’s soldiers. The warlord has been secretly building his army. Our marriage is merely a ploy.’

Something didn’t seem right. ‘One of the warlord’s soldiers betrayed him to you?’

‘Wu was once a member of the Dragon Guard. He’s a man of honour and he risked his life for me. I trust him.’

The same way she had trusted her bodyguards. As she now trusted him.

‘When Father learns what happened to Fourth Brother, he’ll denounce Li Tao as the murderer he is,’ she said. ‘And the empire will be better off for it.’

Ailey’s family was involved in the sort of politics he knew to stay far away from. The Chinese emperors ruled as descendants of heaven, but they were just as readily assassinated and replaced as any mortal.

Their lost legion had been caught at the centre of the rebellion following Emperor Li Ming’s death. The Tang rulers were masters of intrigue. They had perfected the art of it over centuries of rule. What chance did a band of barbarians have against such deceit?

After order was restored, Emperor Shen had allowed them to settle in the frontier to the west, in a region that had been abandoned by the empire. They guarded one of the northern branches of the many trade routes that originated from Changan.

It had been over a month since Ryam had left the marshlands where they were stationed. He had brought twenty men with him into the southern province alongside a shipment of precious cargo. A routine encounter with imperial soldiers had gone badly and he was knocked unconscious in the fight. Once he recovered, there was no trace of his men.

They were soldiers, organised to fight as a unit and follow orders. They had needed someone to lead them, someone diplomatic enough to negotiate without starting a blood bath. But he didn’t know anything about that. He was nothing more than one man with a sword.

The imperial army had tolerated their existence in the frontier until now. Ryam prayed the conflict hadn’t changed the Emperor’s mind. Without Shen’s protection, they would be hunted down like dogs. He could return to find that they had all been marked for death for his mistakes.

Maybe that was why he needed to get Ailey home safely. Pay off his debt, as she liked to say. He had spent too much time within the empire and their ideas were seeping into him. For once, he needed to get something right.

They cut through the woods, following the stream over the rocks for the rest of the afternoon. Ailey could sense her spirit easing as they ventured further into the forest. The dense growth closed behind her like a barricade. If fortune favoured her, the soldiers would still be hunting for the gang of bandits who had supposedly abducted her. She could return home before Li Tao realised she knew of his cowardice and treachery.

‘You’ve risked so much to help me.’ It was so hard to start conversations with him when he didn’t use any of the accepted forms of address. She didn’t know whether to be formal or intimate.

‘Anyone would have done the same.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ she said.

‘Maybe I just wanted the company.’

He was smiling. She definitely needed to remain formal, for her own protection.

‘Those bandits could have smuggled me to a brothel in some remote corner of the empire. Or worse, they could have ransomed me back to Li Tao.’

As jiedushi, Li Tao had sworn to protect the empire, yet he plotted against it. They called Ryam’s kind barbarians, but there was nothing barbaric about him. His manner was direct and honest. It was her own countrymen she needed to be worried about.

The water at the bend formed a pool between the rocks. He stepped over a broad stone and then his hands circled her waist to lift her. His arms flexed as he set her down.

‘Be careful here, it’s slippery.’ He flashed another one of his easy smiles that sent her floating. His touch sent a lazy ripple up her spine and the look he gave her went on for a heartbeat too long.

She looked down at the water. ‘There are fish in there,’ she said absently.

‘Really? Where?’

Her shoulder brushed against his as they knelt to peer into the water. The turn of a tail sent a splash to the surface. The closeness that would have been improper with anyone else seemed so natural with him. Her heart was beating so hard and she could barely breathe. A school of grey fish darted beneath the surface, but all she could stare at was his reflection. The golden hair and light eyes.

Then she caught sight of her own reflection beside his. She looked like a madwoman! Her braid had fallen apart, leaving her hair in a wild nest. Horrified, she scrubbed at the smudge of dirt across her cheek.

He turned to her, his face inches from hers. She froze with her hand against her cheek.

‘Are you hungry?’ There was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

She was. They had been running all morning. She needed the rest as well, but had been reluctant to slow down their journey.

‘How are you going to catch them?’

He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.

‘You cannot,’ she said.

‘Watch me.’

He loosened the ties of his vest and tossed it aside. Tiny knots formed in her stomach as one boot and then the other landed by her side. She ducked her head to stare at the moss beneath her knees. He had no shame at all. She peeked back over to see that he was still wearing his shirt as he slipped waist deep into the pool. The fish scattered in all directions, their dark bodies gliding in frantic circles as they tried to escape.

He shot her a warning look when she giggled. With the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, she watched as he cupped his hands and dipped them carefully under the surface, going as still as a mantis. The fish gradually settled and resumed their gentle sway. She held her breath.

In a flash he scooped his arms upwards, flinging a cascade of water up onto the grass. She shrieked and scrambled away.

‘You did that on purpose!’

Water dripped from his chin. He swiped at his face. ‘You’re scaring the fish,’ he accused.

She moved into the shade to seat herself as he crouched again. He pounced with an even greater splash, again coming up empty-handed. She fell back, grabbing at her sides. How long had it been since she laughed so hard it hurt? Not since her brothers had all been together. Not since they had left their mountain home for the capital.

She wiped at the tears at the corners of her eyes. ‘Have you ever been able to do this?’

His mouth twisted. ‘When I was hungry enough.’

‘No wonder you were starving when we met.’

‘Quiet.’

She combed out her hair with her fingers and started to braid it again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryam crouched for another attempt. His blond hair clung to the sides of his face as he stared into the pool with a mercenary expression.

The next moments were filled with the sounds of splashing punctuated by a string of foreign curses. For the moment, she forgot about the trouble she had got herself into. She could hide amidst the cool moss and long shadows of the forest. Li Tao would never find her.

But her ancestors would. They would call out to her in spirit and demand obedience.

When they reached Changan it would be the end of this reprieve. The hardest part of her journey would begin; the part where she’d have to explain her disloyalty to her mother and father. It would be her word against one of the most powerful men in the empire.

‘Victory!’

A fish the size of her hand wriggled in the grass, silver belly shimmering.

She stood and bit her lip to keep from smiling. ‘He will be a tasty bite for you.’

Ryam hoisted himself out of the pool. A river of water streamed from him, dripping onto the bank. ‘Don’t you dare throw him back,’ he warned. ‘That’s all we’re getting today. I’m out of practice.’

‘You’re not going to catch me one?’

Her words caught in her throat as he tugged the soaked tunic off. Sunlight gleamed off the broad expanse of masculine skin and muscle. The thatch of golden hair on his chest tapered over the hard planes of his stomach. A plume of heat rushed up her neck until her face burned with it.

He wrung the water from the cloth. ‘Seemed like a good idea at the time,’ he muttered. ‘I haven’t tried that in years.’

She barely heard him as she stared. Her pulse pounded hard in her ears. ‘You—you are going to catch cold,’ she stammered.

He looked up then and grew quiet. ‘It’s a warm day.’

An endless expanse of burnished skin hovered before her. When she tried to look at his face, it was even worse. Sky-blue eyes held her gaze as he tugged the damp tunic back down over his shoulders.

Deliberately, he turned away. The gesture did nothing to banish this dawning awareness that had invaded her and seized control. The sleek muscles of his back moved beneath the damp cloth as he pulled a knife from his belt and started cleaning the catch, his gaze fixed upon his task. She retreated against the trunk of a cedar tree and tried to look anywhere but at him, wishing she had something useful to do at the moment.

The gaping silence begged to be filled with anything, some sound to string one moment with the next. She hooked her arms over her knees as he sparked a pile of kindling and nursed the ember into flames.

‘You should teach me how to do that.’ She was babbling. ‘How to start a fire, find food.’

He speared a sharpened stick through the fish and held it over the flames. ‘You won’t need it. You’ll be home soon enough.’

She fell silent. This would all go away. This swordsman with blue eyes and the storm of emotions that came with him. She had to remember that these moments, no matter how wondrous, would die away like the fire. She needed to think, think and not feel. But how could she when he brought out so much that was hidden within her?

Ryam turned the fish over and over, the skin growing crisp and black over the flames.

‘What is it like where you are from?’ she asked.

‘Our men are encamped in the Gansu corridor just beyond your western border.’

His wary tone took her by surprise. Were his men in hiding? Was he fearful that she would reveal their location? She pushed away that disturbing thought.

‘I mean your homeland. Where you came from.’

‘Very different from here,’ he said, holding the skewered fish out to her.

She plucked a morsel from the bone with two fingers and lifted it to her lips. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until that moment.

‘You must have more to say than that.’

‘If you keep travelling west, around the abandoned desert, you’ll reach a sea. Cross that and keep on going. If you haven’t been killed by hostile armies or bandits, you’ll arrive in a valley bordered by two great rivers.’

She tried to imagine the world beyond the great desert. It must be a tapestry of wild and exotic tribes, where pale-skinned warriors roamed the forests.

‘Grandfather would tell us stories of how his armies marched to faraway kingdoms,’ she said.

He pulled off a chunk of the fish and popped it into his mouth. ‘I doubt your grandfather made it anywhere near our land. The journey is not an easy one.’

‘Were you a soldier over there?’ she asked.

He let out a short, cutting laugh. ‘Not a very good one.’

The fish was reduced to a spiny comb. He tossed the bones into the fire and lay back, resting his head on his arms to watch the trees. Sunlight filtered in pockets through the leaves, dappling his face in light and shadow. His sword was laid out beside him by the bank. Even sheathed within the leather scabbard, the weapon radiated a savage energy.

‘What about your father?’

‘He was no soldier either. Couldn’t take orders.’

‘You said he was no longer with you.’

‘No.’

He spoke without emotion, but his hands curled tight before releasing. She nearly missed the gesture. Ryam didn’t appear much older than her, yet he had lost his homeland and his family. She couldn’t imagine any greater sorrow than that. She searched for something to say to honour his ancestor’s spirit.

‘He must have been a formidable swordsman. His name must have been very well respected.’

‘Well respected?’ Ryam sat up so abruptly she fell back. ‘Why are you asking all these questions?’

‘I—I’m sorry.’

He exhaled sharply before turning to look at her. ‘In a week you’ll be safe at home and I’ll be—’ Scowling, he scrubbed his knuckles over the back of his neck. ‘There’s no use in remembering. We’ll never return. We were lucky enough to have survived the journey here.’

She knew better than to be so personal with a stranger, but his open nature made her forget her manners. ‘I just wanted to know what your life was like.’

His gaze raked over her. The corded muscle of shoulders gradually lowered and he let his arms fall to his sides. ‘My life is not very interesting at all,’ he replied with a calmness that unnerved her.

She wasn’t accustomed to this sudden shifting of mood. One moment, he would be smiling and pleasant, then, in the blink of an eye, he could replace all that warmth with a mask of detachment.

‘What else do you want to know?’ he asked.

Possessed by morbid curiosity, her eyes darted to the scar that cut just over his ear. She’d found it shortly after they met, while he lay unconscious in the grass.

He didn’t need to ask what had caught her attention. ‘I got that in a fight against imperial soldiers. Ask me why.’

She shook her head, unable to bring herself to do it. The cocoon of warmth that had enveloped the entire afternoon unwound itself in an instant.

‘Are you having second thoughts about being here with me?’ He planted a hand into the grass, edging closer.

‘No. I trust you.’

He was giving her all the time in the world to shove him away, to rise, to flee. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched him. Moving ever so slowly, he braced an arm on either side of her, his fingers sinking into the moss.

‘I asked you to come with me.’ Despite her words, she dug her heels into the ground and inched backwards. ‘I feel safe with you.’

‘I can see that.’

He affected a lazy smile as she retreated until her back pressed against the knotted roots that crawled along the ground. His boldness was so unexpected, so exciting. She held her breath and waited.

Her pulse jumped when he reached for her. She’d been imagining this moment ever since their first duel and wondering whether it would take another swordfight for him to come near her again. His fingers curled gently against the back of her neck, giving her one last chance to escape.

Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her.




Chapter Five


Ryam wove his fingers into Ailey’s hair. Her lips parted the moment he touched his mouth to hers. Back in familiar territory.

He dragged his lips over hers until she moaned and yielded against him. No more questions from her. No more thinking at all.

It was as natural as breathing to wrap his arms around her and lower her to the ground. He settled his weight against her hips. The perfume of her skin mixed with the damp scent of the moss beneath them. At some point, her sense of propriety would win over. Until then he let his body flood with raw desire. It felt good to kiss her the way he wanted to. It felt damn good.

He slipped his tongue past her lips to where she was warm and smooth and inviting. Her hands clutched at his shirt as she returned his kiss. A muted sound escaped from her throat. He swallowed her cry, using his hands to circle her wrists: rough enough to make her breath catch, gentle enough to have her opening her knees, cradling his hips with her long legs. He stroked himself against her, already hard beyond belief. He groaned when she responded, instinctively pressing closer.





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