Jade War

CHAPTER 12 Necessary Actions

The meeting between the Pillars of the Mountain and No Peak clans was held in the town of Gohei, roughly seventy-five kilometers from the heart of Janloon. The last time Kaul Hilo and Ayt Mada faced each other in person had been a year ago in Wisdom Hall, in a negotiation that had spanned the course of several days under the jurisdiction of a mediation committee arranged by the Royal Council. Unlike that event, which had been a public performance that both clans knew would not result in any real agreement, the event in Gohei was known only to a handful of Green Bones in the top leadership of both clans. Gohei was controlled by the minor Black Tail clan, which had no tributary status or formal allegiance with either the Mountain or No Peak, so the proceedings would take place on neutral ground. The meeting would happen over the course of a single afternoon. Each clan paid for the presence of two senior penitents from the Temple of Divine Return. All these details were arranged between the Weather Men and signaled that the discussions would be taken seriously.

Hilo, Shae, Kehn, and a small group of their closest aides—Tar, Woon, and Juen—arrived in Gohei shortly after noon and were met at the house of the Black Tail clan’s Pillar. Durn Soshunuro, his wife, and three of his four children greeted the visitors with great respect. The only one not present was Durn’s oldest son, who was waiting somewhere away from the premises—an understandable precaution that no one would begrudge the family for, given the slim but dangerous possibility of the negotiations breaking down in dramatic fashion and the hosts being blamed or caught in the center. Durn’s uncle had been a wartime comrade of Ayt Yugontin and Kaul Seningtun but had afterward eschewed living in the big city, preferring to reside in the countryside. With Ayt’s and Kaul’s blessings, he formed his own small clan and took jurisdiction over Gohei, which at the time was a farming community that also acted as a trading post with the Abukei tribes and a stopping point for travelers on the way to Janloon.

Following Janloon’s decades of expansion, Gohei had since become more of a far-flung suburb—Hilo had seen barely any break in the urban landscape on the drive here—and Durn Soshu was highly motivated to remain on good terms with both the Mountain and No Peak, knowing that his own clan’s continued independence relied on it. Even it if was only a matter of time before Black Tail became a tributary entity, Durn was a wise enough Pillar to want that transition to occur peacefully. He had seen what bloodshed the big clans were capable of and wanted to avoid his family—only half of whom even wore jade—ever being on the receiving end. So he put his entire home at the disposal of the visitors and arranged the large sunroom to be the meeting place, with the proper number of chairs in their positions and a jug of cold citrus tea and glasses already set in the center of the table. Two of the penitents stood in the corners of the room and the other two were situated in the front and back halls so there was nowhere on the main floor not within spiritual purview. Hilo thanked Durn graciously and Woon discreetly handed Durn’s wife a green envelope in consideration for the trouble they had gone to.

It was a good thing that Hilo had already spoken at length with Shae and Kehn and had mentally prepared for the meeting during the car ride, because Ayt Mada and her people arrived only a few minutes later. When they entered the room, the number of jade auras crowding Hilo’s mind seemed to dim the sunlight pouring in from the large windows. It was the first time he’d gotten a close look at Nau Suen, the new Horn of the Mountain, and his eyes and Perception lingered a little longer on the man who’d stepped in to replace Gont Asch. Nau was tall and lean, and though he was in his early fifties, he looked like the sort of person who would get up at sunrise to run five kilometers before breakfast. Perhaps because of his prior career as an instructor at Wie Lon Temple School, Nau carried his jade stacked on his wrists, on leather bands similar to the sort used by students. An unblinking gaze and cool, probing jade aura suggested that very little escaped his notice.

Ayt Mada appeared unchanged and straightforward in appearance, wearing a pair of blue slacks and a white blouse, but commanding in the intensity of her assured stare and dense aura. “Kaul-jen,” she said, and seated herself comfortably in one of the two chairs pulled up close to the table. Wordlessly, Hilo sat down in the seat across from her. The Horns and the Weather Men took their seats slightly behind their Pillars, and the remaining Green Bones stood watchfully against the walls. Durn and his wife came in with plates of light snacking foods—sliced fruit, small nut paste buns, salty dried meat cakes—and poured cool tea into glasses. Durn’s youngest child, a girl of about eight, followed close behind her parents. With the nodded permission of the Pillars, Durn made a point of also pouring his daughter a glass of tea and letting her help herself to the snacks, so there was no suspicion of anything wrong with the food. Durn saluted deeply to both Ayt and Kaul, then drew the long window shades for privacy and silently withdrew.

Ayt spoke first. “I trust your Weather Man has explained to you why we’re meeting.”

Hilo narrowed his eyes at the condescending insinuation that he needed even the simplest things explained to him. So be it if Ayt viewed him a simple thug; he saw no reason to dissuade her of the opinion. He leaned back in his chair and popped an entire nut paste bun into his mouth, taking his time to chew and swallow. “We’re here because you expected to be in control of the city by now, and for everyone with the name of Kaul to be feeding worms, but that hasn’t happened.” He spread his hands and gave her a cold smile. “Talk is for when violence fails.”

The Pillar of the Mountain said, with a flash of impatience, “If one of us could’ve won this war with moon blades, Kaul-jen, we’d have already done so. Now we’ve placed ourselves, and the country, in an untenable position. There’s no money entering the national coffers from jade exports. The Oortokon conflict will become a contest between the major powers, who’re greedily eyeing Kekon’s inactive jade mines for their military forces. If we continue in this way, we’ll undermine the national government, drain the jade stores of both our clans, lose the support of the people, and make our nation a vulnerable target for foreigners. The public knows this, the Royal Council knows it, the smugglers like Zapunyo know it. So now it is up to us to avert this disaster.”

Hilo regarded the other Pillar shrewdly. “If the KJA starts up again, it has to be with all the new rules in place. All the jade that’s mined goes through the official body so there’s no theft on anyone’s part.” His lips curled slightly. “I should say, no further theft. You haven’t repaid the Kekon Treasury for the ‘financial discrepancies’ that the audit turned up last year.”

Ayt was not ruffled. “Let’s not open those books again, Kaul-jen. No one cares about balance sheets from three years ago. You drop the subject of the alleged misappropriations, and we’ll take a lower share of KJA allocations for the next three years. Our Weather Men can figure out the exact percentages in order to satisfy the board of directors.”

Hilo shrugged; he had never expected that the Mountain would account for the jade it had already stolen, so this was as far as he figured Ayt would go. “Fine. So that’s the KJA. As for the smuggling: Ti Pasuiga has crooks working in the city and all over the country. Zapunyo doesn’t care about clan territorial borders and neither will the foreigners. A truce means both of us have to agree to take an equal part in going after the black market—stamping out the rockfish and the shine dealers and the foreign gangsters that’ve sprung up like weeds while we were busy fighting each other. If one side puts in more effort, it would be too easy for the other to take advantage and move in on undefended territories.”

Ayt inclined her head. “My Horn will cooperate with yours to make sure we’re jointly committed in our efforts against smuggling. We agree it has to be eliminated. We won’t move on any of your territories, so long as the currently disputed districts are fairly divided.”

“Fairly divided,” Hilo repeated scornfully. There was no division that would satisfy both sides; three days in Wisdom Hall last year had made that abundantly clear. No matter which parts of the city were conceded to which clan, one could argue endlessly that the split was incorrect and should be done another way. The thought of giving up anything to the Mountain made Hilo furious, but he knew there was no way to deal with it except quickly and bluntly. “That depends on whether we’re talking about area or value.”

“Value,” said Ayt.

Hilo grimaced; he could’ve guessed as much. He turned over his shoulder to consult briefly with Shae, then turned back to Ayt. “We keep Poor Man’s Road and the rest of the Armpit.” The city’s largest gambling houses were not merely the clan’s most profitable and symbolic conquest, they were a strategic complement to No Peak’s companies in the hospitality sector.

“Then we reclaim Spearpoint south of Patriot Street and take Sogen,” Ayt answered smoothly and at once, having clearly anticipated her rival’s priorities.

“Three-quarters of Sogen,” Hilo countered. “Everything west of Twentieth Street.” That would preserve a No Peak zone on both sides of Haino Boulevard and create a buffer for Old Town. It was still a major concession, especially since Tar and his men had fought so hard to win that district last year. Behind him, Hilo could Perceive his Pillarman’s unhappiness, but they’d come in expecting to lose something. Hilo said, “Both of our Weather Men will have to do the math and agree.”

“Of course,” Ayt said.

Hilo said, “And you hand over Yun Dorupon.”

“He’s living unguarded in the town of Opia,” Ayt said, without blinking an eye, as if she were telling him the time of day. “You can have your spies confirm.” Hilo felt Shae’s aura shift slightly, but he himself did not react.

“One last thing,” Hilo said. “My cousin Anden. You know he isn’t wearing jade. So long as that’s the case, no matter where he is, no one from the Mountain goes anywhere near him. He’s studying abroad now, but the world’s getting to be a smaller place every day. Anything suspicious happens to him, I’m going to blame the people in this room. We shouldn’t have to spell out aisho as if it’s for preschoolers, but that’s the way things seem to be these days.”

Ayt seemed amused. “So long as I’m Pillar and Emery Anden remains jadeless, we won’t interfere with him, or take vengeance for the death of Gont Asch.” Ayt’s expression was icy, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Do we have an agreement, Kaul Hiloshudon?”

Hilo had never imagined he would be in this position. Dead, yes, he had imagined that countless times—but not this, sitting within arm’s reach of his enemy and calmly negotiating for peace. He was not a true Deitist believer in the afterlife, but he imagined the spirits of everyone who had died on the clan’s behalf hovering accusingly behind him: his brother Lan, his many Fists—Satto, Goun, Lott, to name just a few—and dozens of Fingers who’d sworn their loyalty to him, most of them young warriors cut down in the prime of their lives.

For a second, Hilo felt almost physically sick with self-loathing. How had Shae convinced him to agree to this? She was always pushing him to make calculated, sensible decisions—but sensible was not always right. He knew Ayt could Perceive the flare of emotion in his jade aura, just as he could sense easily enough that behind her composed expression, her hatred for him had not diminished in the least. She was acting as much out of necessity as he was.

“Yes,” Hilo said. “Under Heaven and on jade.”

“Under Heaven and on jade,” Ayt agreed, repeating the words, lifted in shorthand from the traditional closing of the longer Green Bone oaths. They sealed the decisions reached in the meeting, making them the official word of the Pillar, the will of the clan. With the intent of the pact in place, it would be up to the clans’ Weather Men to negotiate all the specific details.

Ayt turned slightly over her shoulder to address her Horn and her Weather Man. “Before we go, I’d like to speak to Kaul Hilo-jen alone for a few minutes,” she said. Ayt turned back around to face Hilo, her expression even more inscrutable than usual. “As one Pillar to another.”

Nau Suen and Ree Tura rose from their seats and left the room, taking their aides with them. After a moment of hesitation, Hilo glanced at Kehn and Shae and nodded that they were to leave as well. Both their jade auras buzzed warily at the unusual request, but they stood and exited, the rest of the No Peak men following. None of the Green Bones went far; Hilo could Perceive them all standing just outside, ready to return at a second’s notice from their Pillars.

Ayt’s demeanor shifted, turned almost casual. She leaned onto the table with one elbow and placed a few slices of fruit and a meat cake onto a small plate, the sleeve of her blouse falling to her elbow and revealing silver-mounted coils of jade stones. “Let’s speak frankly, Kaul-jen,” she said. “You don’t want to be Pillar. You’re not suited to the role like your grandfather and your brother.”

Hilo said in a very cold voice, “I haven’t forgotten you’re the reason I’m in this job.”

“And I haven’t forgotten that you massacred dozens of my Green Bones and murdered Gont Asch. We both used whatever methods and ruses we deemed necessary in a time of war. Unexpected losses were to be expected.” Ayt stood up, taking her plate with her to the window and opening the shade enough to look out at the countryside: low green hills cut into neat terraces, laborers working in the distance, a muddy pickup truck passing an oxcart on the road behind Durn’s property. Slowly, Ayt ate the food on her plate and turned around, the light from the window framing her, shadowing her face. “Kaul Lan was born and trained to be the Pillar; you were not. Do you really believe you can succeed at diplomacy, at business, at anything where you don’t have a talon knife in your hand?

“Set aside blind vengeance and find it in yourself to think dispassionately for a minute, if you’re capable of doing so. I didn’t order your brother’s death, and I’d hand his killers over to you if I knew who and where they were.” Her voice lowered and for the first time that Hilo could remember, Ayt spoke to him in a tone approaching reasonableness. “A merger between our clans is still possible. It would be better for everyone: no more fighting in the city, no more vying for every bit of business and political influence. Together, Green Bones could wipe out smuggling, control the jade and shine trade, and present an unassailable force against encroaching foreigners.”

Ayt stepped away from the window. “There are two things even your enemies say about you, Kaul-jen: You always keep your promises, and you’re a natural Horn. Nau Suen is too old to be Horn of the Mountain for more than a few years. You can serve both yourself and the country: Pledge to end the blood feud and join our clans, and you’ll return to your rightful place, ruling the streets, keeping jade out of the hands of criminals and smugglers, being the Green Bone you’re good at being, the sort that leaves a trail of blood in his wake, like you did on Tialuhiya.”

Hilo sat back and tilted his head slightly to one side. “You’re an unusual sort of person, Ayt-jen,” he said at last. “I wonder what it’s like, to think like a machine and not care about anyone.”

Ayt’s manner hardened instantly at Hilo’s words. Her thick jade aura rolled like a wave. She did not raise her voice, but it emerged slow and deadly. “Don’t presume you know me, Kaul Hilo.”

Hilo rose from his seat in one smooth motion and stalked forward. “I know a few things about you. You whispered the name of your own brother. You colluded with a traitor in my clan and seeded criminals in No Peak territory. You stole and sold jade behind our backs. You’re the reason Lan’s dead. You tried to have me assassinated, and you tried to convince my own sister to kill me. Are those enough things, Ayt-jen?” He glanced at the penitents standing unmoved in the corners of the rooms, as if suggesting they ought to be listening carefully to his accounting of her sins. Each of Hilo’s words came out as distinct as a slowly drawn knife cut. “I will never swear oaths to you.”

Ayt’s expression simmered with a scorn that suggested she was fed up with predictable reactions. “I’m extending a hand instead of a blade. Refuse it, and it won’t happen again.”

“So we understand each other,” Hilo said. “It’s obvious you’re still dreaming of one-clan rule in Kekon, which means that truce or no truce, you’re going to have to kill me eventually.” Hilo shrugged, but there was nothing nonchalant about the motion. “If I don’t get to you first.”

Ayt’s mouth moved imperceptibly, but her powerful aura bathed Hilo in the furnace heat of a menace as unforgiving as a wildfire. “I’ve tried enough times to reason with the stubborn Kaul bloodline.” She adjusted one of the coils of jade on her arm. “Ree Tura will work with your Weather Man to arrange how we announce the agreement between the clans to the Royal Council and the public. I’m sure the people of Kekon will be relieved and pleased by our change of heart.” The Pillar of the Mountain strode past him, set the small plate down on the table, and left the room.