The Yellow silk

CHAPTER 10

Crown Alley seemed like a prosperous street, if not an especially busy one. The homes and shops that lined its twisted length were in good repair. Some of the shops even boasted signs with only words and no pictures, an indication that they expected a better class of literate clientele. Pretentious, thought Tycho. Crown Alley ended in high town, but it started in dockside.

The pretention of the street had one tremendous benefit, though. The snow had been cleared away, shoveled up in great heaps. The walking was easier than pretty much anywhere in dockside. Drier, too-the temperature had risen above freezing again and in dockside, snow was turning into wide, slushy puddles. In Crown Alley, the melt water flowed into a carefully cleared gutter and gurgled its way down to the sea.

Tycho stamped on the paving stones, knocking off the wet clumps that clung to carefully cleaned boots. His coat was clean, too, dirt and stains brushed away by Laera. His strilling had been left behind. He wore his best clothes, his dark curls had been brushed and dressed, and he had shaved again-two days in a row! All the way through middle town, young women and old had turned to watch him pass. Tycho had favored them all with a smile and the prettiest ones with a wink.

Smiles and winks covered up a case of nerves as bad as he had ever had.

He found the leatherworker's, shop. Four steps took him down into a shadowed stairwell opposite a heavy door-strangely heavy for a simple shop. There was an iron knocker set in the door's center. He lifted it and knocked sharply.

A hatch in the door opened and eyes peered out. "Yes?" asked a woman's voice pleasantly. Tycho gave his best smile.

"I've come about a saddle," he said. The eyes looked him over and disappeared as the hatch shut. A bolt was drawn and the door opened. The woman on the other side looked as tough as a piece of the leather that filled the cellar beyond her. She gestured him inside. Tycho entered, pausing just inside the door to let his eyes adjust from the brightness of the street. The woman hissed at him.

"In or out, make up your mind."

"In," Tycho replied and took another step forward. The woman shut the door behind him. A tall man appeared through an interior door as she returned to a workbench. He gave Tycho another looking over and pointed at the long, fabric-shrouded bundle the bard carried.

"That a sword?" he asked. Tycho nodded. The tall man grunted. "Leave it here."

"I can't. It's what I came about." He flipped back the cloth to reveal the hilt of Li's saber. "I understand the Hooded has an interest in exotic weapons." The tall man's eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

Tycho smiled at him. "No one," he said. "I'm just here about a saddle."

"Sweet chum right you are." The tall man held out a meaty hand. "I'll carry the sword." Tycho hesitated for a moment, folded the cloth back over the saber, and handed it to him. The tall man hefted the weapon like an expert and grunted approvingly at the weight. "This way," he said, turning back to the inner door. Tycho followed him through. He held the door wide for a moment.

"You don't often see an inside door this heavy," he commented.

The tall man paused on a flight of stairs leading up. "No, you don't. But if you're lucky, you'll see it again on the way back out. Now close it." Tycho shrugged, pulled the door shut, and stomped up the stairs after him. They would be on the main floor of the house above the leatherworker's shop now, he guessed. The stairs, however, led into a short hallway with murder slots in one wall-he wouldn't have wanted to come up the stairs unannounced. A crossbow bolt fired through one of those slots would probably put a hole right through a person. The tall man led him past the slots confidently, though, and up to an open doorway. He stood aside and let Tycho go ahead of him.

The doorway led into a large, bare room. The walls were undecorated plaster. Tycho could see the faint outlines where windows had been boarded up and plastered over. The room was lit by two lanterns that rested on its only piece of furniture: a heavy table. Seated on the other side of the table was a man in thick robes. A loose, baglike leather hood covered his face. Tycho nodded to him respectfully. "Olore, Hooded."

There were three visible holes in the hood: two narrow ovals for the eyes and an even narrower slit over the mouth. Tycho saw dark eyes flicker through the ovals. The Hooded nodded to him in return and he caught the barest murmur of a whisper.

"Olore, Tychoben Arisaenn." Standing beside the Hooded, a young woman spoke his words out loud. Just as Jacerryl had said: an interpreter. Tycho caught himself thinking of Magistrate Vanyan and his self-important aide, Dorth. Unlike Dorth, the young woman at the Hood-ed's side seemed like nothing more than a shadow. She stood perfectly still, moving only her lips and eyes. Her hair was pulled back tight, her skin was pale, and she wore clothes of exactly the same color as the Hooded's robes. She bore a striking resemblance to the leatherworker in the cellar shop. Tycho held back a shudder and focused on the Hooded.

It wasn't so strange that the gang leader knew his name. A sharp man would know the names of many people. Tycho just hoped he didn't know too much more, especially about details of the past two days. He bowed again. "Jacerryl Dantakain sent me to you, Hooded," he said carefully, testing the waters.

The Hooded made no visible reaction, but just murmured to the young woman at his side. "I know Jacerryl Dantakain," she said for him. "We've dealt together in the past."

Simple, noncommittal. No mention of the beljurils, of course. Tycho wondered if the Hooded knew how Jacerryl had come by them. "Jacerryl told me you were a connoisseur of exotic weapons. The other day, he showed me a pair of wide swords he bought from you. I have something I think might interest you. Your man "

He started to twist around, but the Hooded just shook his covered head. He raised a hand-gloved in the same leather as his hood-and gestured. The tall man came forward and set Li's saber on the table before him. The Hooded folded back the wrappings carefully. When the weapon was revealed, he nodded. "A Shou dao," he said. His young interpreter delivered the words so smoothly, it was easy to forget she was there. The Hooded ran a hand along the red leather of the scabbard, wrapped it around the brass-fitted grip, and pulled the weapon out. The blade flashed bright. Li had spent as much time in polishing the saber as Tycho had in getting dressed. The Hooded looked at it-appreciatively, Tycho thought-and glanced up at the tall man. "Get Tycho a chair."

The tall man went out through another door and came back with a simple, straight-back chair that he thumped down in front of the Hooded's table. Tycho sat as the Hooded continued to examine the saber, looking at the blade, at the fittings on the hilt, at the condition of the grip. Finally, he nodded and murmured again to his interpreter. Even seated a little closer, Tycho still couldn't quite hear what he said, but the interpreter relayed, "Well used, but well taken care of. A fine weapon-and all the way from Shou Lung unless I'm wrong." She paused, the Hooded said something else, and she added, "Fifteen Sembian gold fivestars."

Tycho's eyebrows rose. "Fifteen Sembian gold would be a fine price-if you were buying a common sword from a smith in Sembia." He leaned forward. "Thirty-five."

The Hooded muttered something his interpreter didn't repeat, but Tycho could have made a good guess at what was said. The robed man considered the saber again. "This did come from farther than Sembia," he admitted. "Twenty."

"You're robbing me," Tycho said bluntly.

The Hooded looked at him and he caught a glimpse of eyes with all the warmth of ice. "This is a warrior's weapon. A good story might increase its value. Where did you get it?"

"From a Shou warrior," Tycho said. He, Veseene, and Li had worked out the best story. Tycho had been in favor of a simple tale of acquiring the weapon in the Shou-town in Telflamm. It was quick, anonymous, and all but impossible for the Hooded to contradict. Li, however, insisted on something more. Yu Mao's butterfly swords had passed through the Hooded's hands. He wanted to know how. Tycho sat back and spun out the story-remarkably close to the truth-that Li had proposed. "He came to Spandeliyon looking for revenge on Brin."

The Hooded said nothing, but he didn't have to: Tycho caught a slight shift in his posture as he leaned forward, eager for word of some misfortune befalling his rival. Tycho stretched out the tale. "Fine figure of a warrior he was, too. All the way from Shou Lung, straight through Telflamm, onto a ship, and here to Spandeliyon. Fiery temper, you could see it in his eyes."

"When?" demanded the Hooded. His interpreter spoke the word in the same monotone in which she relayed all of his speech, but Tycho caught some of his tone. He was caught in the story.

"Only a few days ago."

"What happened?"

Tycho sighed dramatically. "He never made it to Brin. Lander-you know who Lander is? — got him first. I happened across him in his last moments. He pressed the weapon on me and begged me to see his vengeance on Brin through." He coughed. "I'm not that stupid."

"No," the Hooded said, "I can see that. Twenty-two for thedao?"

"I would consider thirty."

"Maybe. Did this angry warrior say why he wanted vengeance on Brin?"

The Hooded was fishing for information now. Tycho held back a smile and said casually, "For the death of his brother while Brin was a pirate on a ship called Sow-."

He blinked as the Hooded stiffened sharply and gloved hands tightened around Li's saber.

It was enough. Li took a slow, deep breath and drew out the Calishite scimitar. No one reacted.

Of course, no one could see him either.

Wily old Veseene's plan had been a good one. Tycho would get himself in to see the Hooded by using the dao and an offer to sell it as bait. Talk alone wouldn't get them the beljurils, though. They needed a way to get past the Hooded's defenses and force their hand physically. They needed magical aid, something more than Tycho could provide.

And so once everything else was prepared, Veseene had brewed up her triple-strength wasp venom tea. Li had been amazed at the transformation in her as the tea took effect. While her personality had been formidable before, with her palsy temporarily suppressed Veseene stood tall and regal, wondrous and confident. And when she began to sing, it was like listening to the imperial performers whose songs drifted over the walls of the Forbidden City in Kuo Те' Lung, except that Veseene wasn't singing for the Emperor but for him! Magic had filled her song, lending it even greater power. She had reached out and touched him — and he had vanished from sight, completely invisible.

Spent by the magic, Veseene had collapsed onto her couch. Tycho had almost cried out, but Veseene had warned them this would happen. They had left her in the care of Laera Dantakain and departed. The magic would only last so long, Veseene had said, and it only hid him from the sense of sight, not from touch or hearing. Tycho had done an excellent job of covering for him as they walked into the Hooded's stronghold, keeping doors open long enough for him to pass through and covering up any sounds he made in climbing the stairs.

It had been a good thing that he had been behind TVcho and the tall guard on the stairs, though. As they had stepped into the Hooded's hall and he had seen the Hooded, Li had frozen. For a moment, he was back in his family's garden, this time on the occasion of his own Blessing Ceremony.

There had been no betrothed to present him with the tools of a man-Mother had stepped forward with a box containing the dao that was his chosen weapon-but that was tempered by the knowledge that in a month's time he would leave Keelung to take the imperial civil service examinations. A son in the service of Shou Lung was better than a good marriage.

As Father and Mother and all of the assorted relatives in attendance had returned to the house, Li drew Yu Mao aside.

"Look!" he said, thrusting the dao into his hands. Yu Mao gave him the knowing gaze of an elder brother already used to the formalities and trappings of adulthood, but drew the dao anyway.

"Very nice," he said approvingly. He had already reached his full growth. For a silk merchant, he was a powerfully built man, tall and broad. Some day, Li thought, I'm going to be just like him.

In the end, he had ended up taller, though not so broad, and the dao of his Blessing Ceremony had been lost and replaced twice over. His father wouldn't have recognized his current dao if it had been placed before him.

But the Hooded was tall and broad and when he drew the dao out of its scabbard, the gesture was so familiar that Li had caught his breath. And when the Hooded gasped at the mention of Sow and a murdered Shou

Scimitar drawn, he moved closer.

His foot pressed down on a loose floorboard. A sudden squeal broke the silence of the room. Heads snapped up. The Hooded drew a sharp breath.

Li lunged.

Veseene had said that the spell would end of its own accord. She had also said it would end if he attacked anyone. Li saw his own arms, hand, the scimitar flash into being. No need for silence now-he screamed as he slashed out at the Hooded, channeling all of his rage into the blow!

Suddenly it seemed like everyone was screaming except the Hooded-he was throwing himself back desperately. The edge of the scimitar bit deep into the surface of the table where, a heartbeat before, the Hooded had been sitting. Li wrenched the blade free and whirled around. The Hooded was backing up, dao held warily, defensively. Tycho was shouting his name. The tall guard was shouting for help-"Ambush! Ambush!"

The Hooded's young interpreter was shrieking in her own voice. She had a dagger clutched in her hand. Wild-eyed, she leaped for him. Li twisted the scimitar around No, she was a child! His argument wasn't with her. He twisted again, thrusting at her instead with his free hand and knocking her back. The Hooded seized the opening, though. He ducked in with a fast cut, as unfamiliar with the dao as Li was with the butterfly swords. The heavy weapon dragged his blow down. Li slapped it aside, spun the scimitar around, and raised it for a killing blow.

"Li!" Tycho's voice, terrified, cut through his concentration. He glanped back over his shoulder.

The tall guard had Tycho pinned on the ground, a sword at his throat. The man was breathing heavily. "Drop your sword," he gasped, "or your friend dies!"

Li hesitated. In that moment, the Hooded sprang back out of reach and the pounding of footsteps announced the arrival of more guards. One of them had a crossbow, cocked and aimed right at him.

They were caught.

With a shudder, Li let the scimitar fall from his fingers. He glared at the Hooded. "You…" he hissed in Shou.

The Hooded ignored him, scrambling to the side of his fallen interpreter. Guards surged in, grabbing Li roughly and twisting his arms up behind him. More guards dragged Tycho to his feet. The Hooded glared at both of them and snarled to his interpreter. "He says get them below and tie them down!" she relayed, the cool detachment she had shown before completely gone. Anger and fear mingled in her eyes. What the Hooded was feeling was impossible to tell. Rage welled up inside Li and he tried to throw himself at the robed man.

All it earned him were hard punches around his head and torso. The guards seized the chance to give Tycho a few blows as well. The bard tucked his head down against his chest, trying to protect himself at least a little bit. Li stood tall and straight, taking the blows and staring at the Hooded until a jab to his kidneys from the tall guard finally made him twist in pain. "Get them out of here, Cado!" spat the Hooded's interpreter.

The guards dragged them through yet another door and down a flight of stairs, though not the ones that led to the leatherworker's shop. These stairs were dank and slippery and the stink that rose up from below was foul. When they finally reached a level floor, Li could hear water. In feeble torchlight, he caught glimpses of shadowed vaults piled with crates and barrels. He and Tycho were likewise piled into a vault, one with rusty bars across its mouth. Someone produced rope, swiftly tied them hand and foot, and kicked them to the floor. Cold, damp stone slammed into his chest and chin. He tried to twist onto his back. A kick caught him high in the belly, knocking the air out of him.

For a long moment, all he could do was gasp for breath as the Hooded's guards, laughing and growling, filed out of the vault and slammed the barred door behind them. A lock clicked shut. Their voices moved away and everything was silent except for the sound of water-and Tycho's breathing. Li twisted around and sat up. A torch outside threw dancing light into the cell.

"Tycho?" he said.

The bard was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his face flaming red. "What in the name," he slurred softly, "of all that is good and glorious and wise and intelligent were… you… doing? " He sat up and glared at him. "We were going to take the Hooded hostage so we could get the beljurils. We weren't going to try to kill him!"

Li glared right back at him. "The Hooded is Yu Mao," he spat.

Tycho's jaw dropped in disbelief. "What?"

"The Hooded is Yu Mao."

Li blew out his breath and hung his head against his chest. When the anger that had gripped him in the room above ebbed a bit, he looked up again and forced the words out. "He's my brother, Tycho. When you and Jacerryl described the Hooded last night, I started to wonder. The Hooded came to Spandeliyon only a bit before Brin and just after the Sow vanished. He covered himself entirely and spoke only to an interpreter. He sold Yu Mao's swords to Jacerryl. When I saw him upstairs and from the way he froze when you mentioned the Sow, I knew-"

"Wait." Tycho shook his head as if trying to clear it and looked at Li again. "Even if you're right, even if the Hooded is Yu Mao, you just tried to kill him! I thought you only wanted to find him!"

"I do. I did." Li clenched his jaw and heat sprang into his face. "I lied to you, Tycho," he said through his teeth. "I didn't tell you the whole truth. When I saw Veseene, she guessed that, but I couldn't tell her either. I swear I didn't think it would go this far. I thought I would learn what I needed to know from Brin and that I would leave Spandeliyon to find Yu Mao somewhere else."

In the shadows, Tycho's eyes were narrow. "So," he said coldly, "what is the whole truth? Why did you just try to kill your brother? "

"Because Tieh Fa Pan didn't see Yu Mao taken hostage by the pirates of the Sow." Li swallowed. "He saw him join them. Yu Mao betrayed the expedition's ship to the pirates. Fa Pan thought that he even organized the expedition's journey to Sembia just so the pirates would have a chance to take the ship. When the pirates attacked, all the members of the expedition except Fa Pan were sent below deck for their safety. Yu Mao murdered them."

The confession burned in his gut. Tycho's eyes had gone wide and he looked like he had something to say, but Li didn't let him speak; he plunged on. "When Fa Pan went to warn them that the ship had been boarded, Yu Mao attacked him, too. He was the one who wounded Fa Pan. He pushed him overboard to drown. He didn't know that he was spirit folk, though. From the water, Fa Pan watched Yu Mao celebrating with the pirates, laughing with Brin and embracing the pirates' sorceress-captain like a lover."

His voice failed him. Silence fell. After a time, Tycho asked softly, "Why?"

Li shook his head. "I don't know. Nobody knows. Fa Pan wrote that he asked Yu Mao the same thing and all Yu Mao said was 'You wouldn't understand.' Fa Pan suspected that he murdered the rest of the expedition-and tried to kill him, too-so that word of what he had done would never get back to Keelung." He closed his eyes for a moment. "If my father hadn't received Fa Pan's letter, the silk families of Keelung would just have assumed the expedition was lost and mourned them accordingly. They might have asked questions, but not many."

"But because Fa Pan lived long enough to send that letter," Tycho said, "they sent you."

"No." Li sighed. "My father sent me, Tycho. Rather than face the shame of explaining what his eldest son had done, he told Keelung the same lie I told you. Then he sent me west to find Yu Mao and, if he wasn't already dead, to kill him."

Tycho gasped. "Sweet chum, Li!"

"It had to be done, TVcho."

"You're talking about murdering your brother!"

"Better me than a stranger! Better me than no one at all." He twisted so Tycho could see his left arm. "That's why my father sent the Yellow Silk with me, TVcho. It's the honor of my family; it's the tradition that binds us together. I carry the greatest treasure of the Kuang with me. That's how important this is."

"Aren't there courts in Shou Lung? Doesn't your emperor dispense justice?"

"There are courts. There is justice. There's tradition, too. All three agree. What Yu Mao did must be punished."

Tycho pressed his lips together. "Punished in secret?" Li looked away.

"If I do what I have to do," he said quietly, "I will return to Keelung and I will tell my father the truth. To everyone else, I will tell a lie. When I die, I will stand before the Lords of Karma and pray to Fa Kuan, the Immortal of justice, and Chih Shih, the Immortal of lore and tradition, to intercede on my behalf because what I did was necessary."

This time Tycho didn't answer. Silence stretched out thin.

Finally, Tycho asked, "Are you certain the Hooded is really Yu Mao?"

Li nodded.

"Did he recognize your saber the way you recognized his butterfly swords? "

"It's called a dao, Tycho, not a saber," said Li. "Sabers are what the Tuigan barbarians use. And no, he couldn't have. He's never seen that particular dao before."

"Did he recognize you?"

Li hesitated. Had Yu Mao recognized him? With the hood obscuring his face, it was hard to tell anything. The moment had been so chaotic that any subtle signs would have been lost. Yu Mao certainly hadn't called out to him during their fight or after.

But I'm not some dao, new forged and plucked at random from a rack, Li thought. I'm his brother. "How could he not have recognized me?" he demanded.

"What if he's not Yu Mao? "

"But all of the signs…"

"I know," Tycho said quickly. "I know." He sighed and tilted his head back. "But if the Hooded is Yu Mao and he was friends once with Brin, they aren't friends anymore. Brin and the Hooded despise each other."

"Maybe they've had a falling out. If Brin knows the Hooded is Yu Mao, that would explain why he's after me-his rival's brother in his hands," Li said and added in Shou, "Honest folk aren't a bandit's only prey."

"There's no honor among thieves," Tycho replied in Common. "Li, do me a favor? Before you kill the Hooded, make sure you know who he is?"

"Kill the Hooded?" grunted a voice from outside their cell. Li twisted around sharply. The tall guard who had met Tycho in the leatherworker's shop-Cado, the Hood-ed's interpreter had called him-was standing on the other side of the bars. Two other guards were with him. All three had nasty looks on their face. "You go fishing with an unbaited hook, don't you?" asked Cado.

Li shot a glance at Tycho. The bard swallowed and managed a crooked grin. "Bind me," he said, "I don't even use a hook!" He squirmed up to his knees as the tall guard unlocked the cell and swung the barred door open. "Come to let us go?"

Cado answered by pulling out two smallish canvas bags. Tycho's eyes went wide. "Listen, I think there's been a misunderstanding-"

"You thought you could take the Hooded." The tall guard jerked a thumb toward Tycho then toward Li. The men with him moved forward, one grabbing Tycho and holding him still, the other pulling Li to his knees as well. Li tried to pull away, but the guard held him tight.

"Tycho!" Li said in Shou. "What's going on?"

"The Hooded isn't just called that because he wears a hood," gulped Tycho in the same language. "They call him that because his victims are usually wearing them when they're-"

Cado swatted him. "Quiet, you." He pulled a bag over his head and tugged it tight with a drawstring. Tycho gasped and struggled, but the guard just turned to Li.

"Wait!" Li said desperately. "The Hooded doesn't want us dead!"

"He does," said Cado. "He doesn't like being attacked. Wants you made an example of." He yanked the bag over Li's head.

The fabric was rank and stifling. Through it, Li could see the spot of light that was the torch, but everything else was just a series of vague, dark shapes. "Then take a message to the Hooded!" he told the tall guard.

"Hooded doesn't want to hear messages."

"He'll want to hear this one," Li insisted. "Just two words. Yu Mao. He'll know what it means."

"There's a silver raven in it for you," Tycho added. "In my coat pocket. Come on-two words?"

The tall guard paused and grunted. "All right." Li heard Tycho hiss-Cado probably wasn't any too gentle in obtaining his payment. "Watch them close," he told the other two guards. Footsteps receded. Li closed his eyes and prayed to all nine Immortals that Tycho was wrong and he was right, that it was Yu Mao under that leather hood-and that even if he was going to have to kill his brother, that Yu Mao might want some kind of last word with them first.

It seemed like forever before Cado's footsteps returned. "Well?" asked Li. "Did he understand?"

"Yes," said the guard. "He said to get rid of you faster."