The Hand, the Eye and the Heart Read online

  There was a pause as my thoughts turned back to the death traps we’d found on the way here. To Captain Lu’s reaction – or lack of. “Lu’s not going to take any action about what we told him, is he?”

  It wasn’t really a question. I asked to distract myself from my other pressing thought: what would a man like Captain Lu do to me if he ever realized the truth about who I was?

  Father had given me some cryptic-sounding warnings about the consequences of what I wanted to do. Mother had cried and refused to meet my eyes. By my count, I was already guilty of several crimes: lying to the censor and making fraudulent changes to official records. Soon I would be training with the men while deceiving everyone about my real identity…

  If I was lucky, the officers would have me dragged away to rot in some jail for the rest of my life. My family name would be disgraced. And Father would be forced to fight anyway.

  If I wasn’t lucky…

  I didn’t want to think about it.

  “I don’t know. But I think we’ve done everything we can.” Yang Jie seemed to shrug off his grave mood, squeezing my shoulder before letting go. “Now we need to attend to our own business. And find something to eat! I’m starving. Come on.”

  I made an effort to put my own worries and misgivings aside as we headed to the barracks together. But even as I chatted companionably to him and went through the motions of settling into the camp, a sense of deep foreboding descended over me. I had succeeded in convincing my family to let me come here and succeeded in convincing the camp officials to accept me into the ranks of the army. At home, when I planned this, those had seemed the biggest obstacles.

  But this morning the enemy had been close to killing me without coming anywhere near me. I had made my first and only friend and then almost lost them again, because of who my father was. And nearly incurred the wrath of the first senior officer I spoke to without even trying.

  With a sensation like falling, I realized that, despite all my preparations to come here, I wasn’t prepared for this. I hadn’t been prepared for anything that happened today. I wasn’t prepared for tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that. I had no idea what challenges were coming next.

  Eight

  passed a restless and chilly night in the bed closest to the badly cut, draughty door of the barrack building – all the warmer beds having been claimed by recruits who had arrived earlier. In the dark, with the whispering of strange men’s breath and the stink of their sweat, unwashed hair and night gasses all around me, the white emptiness of fear screamed at the edges of my mind.

  What was I doing there?

  I wanted to go home. I wanted to know my place and exactly what I was supposed to do, even if I could never quite do it well enough to please everyone. I wanted my quiet brother and cheerful sister, my solid father and my mother, my mother who always seemed so far away from me, but at the same time was always there.

  They were mine and they were safe and I had never realized, until now, how much I needed them.

  But they … did not need me. They never had.

  This was the only thing I was good at, good for, the only good thing I had been able to offer them since the night of assassins.

  I had to see it through.

  Waking from a light doze before dawn, I shifted uncomfortably in the creaky bed as I pulled my male mask across my face, aware of a low, grinding ache in my abdomen and an uncomfortable, sticky sensation in my loincloth.

  My eyes snapped open on a wave of realization. I barely prevented myself from bolting upright in the bed and waking everyone around me. My monthly bleeding!

  Shaking with tension, I scrambled out of bed, grabbed one of my saddlebags and fled to the river. I had always been taught to avoid getting cold during what my mother referred to as “heavenly waters”, in case I fell ill, but I had no choice now. With fumbling hands, I undressed the minimum possible amount and hastily cleaned myself up, thanking my ancestors when I saw that the blood had not soaked all the way through my clothes.

  The ruined loincloth I flung into the river. Bloody scraps of cloth would hardly cause any remark downstream from an army camp. I padded the new one thickly with bandages – the same soft cloth bandages any soldier might carry with him – wrapped around a wad of cotton batting – still easy enough to explain away if anyone found them in my pack. My bleeding was usually light, and this would suffice for most of the day, but I would have to sneak off to take care of it before bed tonight.

  I rinsed my stained hands in the icy water, scrubbing feverishly to try to get the red crescents from beneath my nails. My ribs shuddered with a combination of cold and suppressed, self-directed fury. I knew the bleeding was coming today, I had planned for it. How could I have forgotten? Just forgotten? Something so vital to my charade, something so simple to prepare for?

  I knelt at the edge of the river and tried to calm myself. Deep breaths, following the flow of qi through my body, allowing the bad feelings to drain away. It was all right. I had made a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake, but it hadn’t cost me anything, and I wouldn’t allow it to happen again. It was all right. All right.

  The sky was beginning to lighten, and muffled noises told me that some in the camp were already stirring. There was no chance of more sleep for me, not after that. I might as well take advantage of the extra time.

  Creeping stealthily back into the barracks, I made my bed, put on my new uniform and left to fulfil my first duty of the day: caring for Yulong. By the time the great gong forced my fellows to begin thrashing and groaning among their threadbare blankets, I had slipped back into the barracks and seated myself cross-legged on the floor beside my bed, beginning the process of transferring possessions from my saddlebags to the wooden trunk I had been issued, so that I would be able to find what I needed more easily.

  Then the senior officers made a surprise inspection of the barracks.

  “On your feet,” an officer bellowed from the doorway. Cold air gusted in around him in misty tendrils. “Your commander is present!”

  The other recruits – caught in the process of ever-so-slowly inching their way out of warmish beds into freezing air – exploded into panicked activity. I saw one boy flail so hard that he flung his bedclothes halfway across the room. Another hit the floor still tangled up in his. Yang Jie, who had been yawning hugely in the bed next to mine, stared at my neatly bound hair and smoothed-down blankets with an expression of deepest betrayal.

  “At ease, men, at ease!” a genial voice rang out. “This is my first time meeting most of you: welcome! Welcome to the Glorious Brotherhood of the Imperial Army!”

  I glanced up furtively to see a man about my height, though of much more powerful build, in a suit of splendid gilded armour. The helm of a banner commander, with its crest of crimson horsehair, was tucked casually under one arm. His hair was thinning, but he had a magnificent dark-brown beard, and steely eyes that belied the informality of his tone.

  I managed to get my gaze back on the floor before he caught me looking, noticing that Yang Jie, like me, had shrewdly chosen to stay at attention.

  “These are Captains Lu Buwei and Sigong Qi, my right-hand men,” the commander went on. “They will be assessing your skills and fitness, starting this morning. I am Commander Diao Tian Ning. I hope to have cause to be proud of you all in the coming weeks and months, during your training and in the fight against the vicious traitors who threaten our empire.”

  Despite the encouraging nature of his words, the silence that fell as Commander Diao paced up and down the central corridor that separated the rows of beds was anything but relaxed. He took a moment to stare at each bed and each recruit. His genial expression never changed.

  “Captain Lu,” the commander spoke again at last, voice still mild, “perhaps I am mistaken. The morning gong. Did it not ring a full five minutes ago?”

  “You are not mistaken, Commander,” Lu Buwei said. I risked a fleeting glance at him. He was fairly radiating smug satisfaction. “
In fact, it rang nearly six minutes ago.”

  The commander paused in the exact centre of the building, rotating slowly on the spot. “Can anyone tell me, then – why, five minutes after the morning gong summoned you to training, are you all still dressed in sleeping clothes, unwashed and undressed, with your beds unmade?”

  His answer was a silence that squirmed like a nest of slugs.

  “You. Are. Soldiers,” he said, words thudding into our ears hard enough to make several people flinch. “And this is a war. Three months ago, I finished training the last crop of conscripts to this army and sent them into battle. Over half those young men are already dead. This is not a game. It is life and death, and if you want to survive, you will toughen up.

  “From now on, you will rise, make your beds, make yourself presentable and ready to fight before that gong has finished shaking. Am I understood?”

  More silence.

  “AM I UNDERSTOOD?” the commander roared.

  “Yes, sir!” the pathetic chorus of voices squeaked, cracked and shook – mine amongst them.

  “If I visit again at this hour and find you and your quarters in such a state of disgusting disarray, each and every one of you will get five stripes on your back. Captain Lu! Make a note. The east barracks is on probation! Half rations for a week!”

  An audible gasp went through the barracks. This was a severe blow.

  “Sir!” the captain acknowledged, smiling through his moustache. This seemed like a script which had most likely been acted out between them, word for word, many times before. That didn’t make it any less effective.

  The commander paced back towards the door and, incidentally, towards Yang Jie and myself. He took a deep breath – most likely in preparation for bellowing again. I braced myself. Then he paused.

  Right in front of my bed.

  Right in front of me.

  I prodded so hard at my shadow mask that I almost tore it off. No, it was perfect. What had I done now? Was I standing like a girl? Ancestors help me!

  “Who is this young man, Captain?”

  “Er…” Captain Lu stared at me with a faint hint of recognition that slowly turned to frustration as he realized he had no idea. He had never bothered to ask my name. “I am … not quite sure, sir.”

  “Captain Sigong?”

  The second officer spoke up for the first time, voice quiet and non-committal. “I believe that is Hua Zhi of the House of Hua.”

  “Well, well, well,” Commander Diao murmured. “Hua Zhi. At ease.”

  I took him at his word this time, forcing my shoulders to unsquare a little as I raised my head and offered my first – probably awful – salute. “Sir.”

  The commander stared through me. “I never had the privilege of meeting the Iron General. Of course, I have heard of him and his exploits. But what I see here today speaks better of him than any ballad or battle report. It is your first day of training, and while your fellows lazed in bed, you are washed, neat to a fault and fully armoured, with your bed made. And made well.”

  One of his hands shot out. I couldn’t restrain my flinch – but his fingers merely plucked a tiny fragment of hay from between the scale plates of my left gauntlet. I hadn’t even noticed it there.

  “Saw to your horse first thing, did you?” he asked.

  I gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  What seemed like a genuine smile broke across his weathered face, transforming it. “You are a credit to the House of Hua. Watch out, Captain Lu! This one is after your job.”

  The captain’s expression congealed into one of bitter resentment. “Indeed, sir.”

  Commander Diao nodded at me. “I will be watching you closely, Hua Zhi. Continue to perform at your best, and take care not to disappoint me.”

  With that, the man swept from the building, Captain Lu at his heels. Captain Sigong lingered at the door, quiet voice carrying beautifully in the fragile stillness left behind: “Make sure this place is neatened up and get yourselves to the mess in the next ten minutes, East Barracks.”

  The door closed behind him softly.

  The tall, stringy youth across from me let out an explosive noise, as if he hadn’t drawn breath the entire time Commander Diao was in the building. “Heavenly Phoenix! Hua Zhi, I don’t know whether I ought to envy or pity you.”

  “Pity,” I said with feeling, collapsing on to the edge of my bed. “Definitely pity.”

  “Come on, we’ve only got ten minutes!” Yang Jie interrupted, pouncing on one of his boots. Bingbing, perched at the roughly hewn head of his bed, made a rude noise, then tucked her beak under her wing and went back to sleep.

  We did make it to the mess, and with a minute to spare. By the time our bowls were filled with their meagre half-portion of breakfast – rice porridge – the skinny boy had introduced himself as Ma Wen, nineteen, of the House of Fong.

  “So, what is it like, then?” he asked eagerly as we sat, already cramming rice into his mouth. The next words came out muffled and I looked away. “Having Hua Zhou for a father?”

  My teeth clamped together. Maybe I should move seats…

  Yang Jie nudged me gently with his elbow.

  I sighed. “What’s your father like?”

  Ma Wen swallowed with an effort and shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal. Like any father, I suppose.”

  “Well, there you are, then.” I picked up some dried meat and tore off a healthy bite. “The reason I was up early is that my bed is next to the door and it’s too cold to sleep well. That’s all. If Commander Diao does watch me, he’s going to be very bored.”

  Ma Wen nodded slowly, looking equal parts relieved and let down.

  Yang Jie gave me a sidelong look. Under his breath, he mumbled, “My bed’s right next to yours. I slept fine.”

  “Shut up,” I muttered back from the corner of my mouth.

  He gave me a sunny grin and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Don’t relax, spoke a voice from the screaming white void of fear. You don’t really know him. He doesn’t know who you truly are. What you truly are.

  And you need to make sure it stays that way.

  Nine

  fter breakfast we, along with the other men of east and south barracks, gathered on the muddy field at the east end of the valley. Captain Lu awaited us there, an unimpressed sneer firmly fixed on his face.

  “You know,” Yang Jie said softly, “I could easily learn to dislike that man.”

  My monthly bleeding was giving me cramps again, and I wasn’t in the mood to chat – even if I agreed with Yang Jie. “He’s our commanding officer,” I said sternly, hoping to shut him up.

  “I envy Captain Sigong,” our new officer said silkily, pacing lazily up and down at the head of the field as we formed into slightly ragged lines. “North and west barracks show at least some promise. I’m stuck with you. May my ancestors have mercy on me.”

  His gaze seemed to narrow on me as I attempted to make myself inconspicuous behind Ma Wen.

  “Here are the rules. You won’t be warned again. You will care for your sword, and keep it clean and in good condition. If you have a horse, you will do the same. You are also responsible for the care and maintenance of your clothes and armour. If anything you’ve brought is of unsuitable quality, report to the ironsmith or quartermaster for a replacement, or mend it. Anyone caught with dirty, broken-down swords or armour will get ten stripes from my whip. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” we shouted dutifully.

  “You will receive training in swordsmanship, pike-work, archery and fighting on horseback. You will also learn how to operate a basic four-man cannon, a fire lance, and how to safely handle gunpowder explosives. If you show talent in any of these fields, we will give you extra training. Don’t expect it to happen, though. I’m the best swordsman and horseman in this camp and I’m not easily impressed.”

  I wondered if the commander and Captain Sigong had heard this speech and what they thought of being relegated to – presumably – second
and third place.

  “You’re expected in this training field, armoured and ready to learn, twenty minutes after the gong rings each morning. You will wash and make your beds and ensure that the barracks are tidy and clean before you leave them every day. They will be subject to surprise inspection.” Again, his gaze seemed to seek me out. “I don’t like whiners, so don’t come complaining to me about fights or hurt feelings – I don’t care who your fathers are or what house you come from. But if you’re caught fighting anywhere other than this practice field? You will be whipped. Twenty lashes. Stealing from the officers or stores? Twenty lashes. Trying to smuggle a woman into camp? Twenty lashes – and the rest of the men will share the woman. What’s left of her after I’m done, anyway.” He smirked. “If you attempt to desert? It’ll be a sword to your neck and a letter of apology to your mother. And you’d better hope that Commander Diao has Sigong do the killing – because I won’t make it quick. Any questions?”

  A cold sweat had sprung up on my upper lip and brow, and my stomach was churning. I swallowed frantically as bile crept into my throat. I didn’t dare look at Yang Jie, although I could feel him nearly vibrating with tension behind me.

  “Good.” The captain nodded in satisfaction. “Everyone take a practice sword from the bins on either side of the field, then form up into pairs. I’ll demonstrate a basic sword form. You will imitate me and I will assess you. Go!”

  I broke quickly for the left side of the field, sure that anyone who was tardy in getting back into their line would end up facing some form of awful punishment. With a quick glance, Yang Jie and I paired, taking positions opposite each other. I already knew the form, but I forced myself to watch Lu carefully anyway, in case there was some small variation I might miss. I breathed slowly and deeply through the familiar movements, trying to centre myself and expel my anxiety … and ignore my throbbing abdomen. Yang Jie’s movements were a little hesitant, but surprisingly smooth and graceful.

  I spared a quick smile for him, and he grinned back.