marlowemuses | But haven't you heard / hearts turn to dirt

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But haven't you heard / hearts turn to dirt

The war between the Jin Sect and the Nie Sect had gone on for months, a bloody and exhausting battle of attrition. Lan and Jiang had stayed out of it, which was a kind of mercy. Everyone knew that if they took sides, Lan Xichen would support his dearest friend and Jiang Cheng would support his, and it would only spread the bloodshed. Huaisang was grateful that they were left out of this, and yet he often longed for that support and comfort.

Things had only gotten worse when Jin Guangyao had begun bringing in mercenaries. He had coin to spare where Huaisang did not, able to rely upon rich grain fields and a larger populace. Terrain and skill allowed Huaisang’s men to keep them at bay, and yet. It felt like it would only be so long.

The day’s battle had been exhausting and demoralizing in the worst way, a group of mercenaries sent forth to batter at a weakness in Huaisang’s defenses. It had taken mere minutes for Huaisang to spot the strategy, and after hours he still had no solution. The mercenaries were sent on a suicide mission, that was clear, but what was also clear was that they would succeed. They were meant to die and the breach in the border would leave the Nie Sect weak. He would have to fall back inside the very walls of Qinghe. Any peasants left outside would be killed or captured. Any peasants brought inside would starve slowly under siege. It was inevitable.

Huaisang wanted to sob, but he forced himself to think, considering hypotheticals again and again, but it was always the same answer. The walls would breach. They would fall back. They would starve.

He couldn’t change those facts, and that was what delayed him for hours seeing the one thing he could change.

The leader of the mercenary band was the one they called the Scourge. It seemed like he could kill hundreds of men on his own. His blade moved lightning-fast, though he was no cultivator. And he would die like the rest today. That was the only comfort in the tragedy of the day.

All at once, Huaisang saw how to change the pattern.

He sent his orders swiftly, commanding the breach to be surrendered, to fall back sooner, to let the mercenaries live. All that mattered was risking everything on one play which would introduce a new variable.

His men brought their captive in to Qinghe bound in silvery nets of energy. Qinghe was reinforced and the gates had been closed, accepting that awful fate, but Huaisang had a new variable brought to kneel before him in his throne room.

Heart pounding with nerves to be a prey animal facing down such an obvious predator, Huaisang lifted his chin and fanned himself idly, pretending calm in the face of his deadly captive. “So you were the price Jin Guangyao was willing to pay in order to seize my lands.”

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"He did not." With the net removed, Doul rolls his shoulders and stretches, working out a particularly stubborn kink in his back. He makes no moves towards either Huaisang or the guards. Could he try to kill a couple of them? He could try, but what would that get him?

"He gave me a recently copied section of the book as a gesture of good faith and a down payment for services." There's a soft, thoughtful rumble. "It was not in his own hand. Still, elegant, but not his."

"I am not as well versed in the local politics as I could be. Will you tell me of the 'delicacy' required?"

"Gladly." Huaisang sets down his brush and delicately cleans ink from his fingertips with a white handkerchief. "You understand at least that there are four great families in this region, each of us commanding a province and considerable wealth." He begins leafing through the papers on his desk, searching for something. "The Nie and Jin Sects are at war, obviously, with the Jiang and Lan Sects remaining on the sidelines. It is likely that the Jiangs would assist myself and the Lans would assist the Jin. None of us want to test the hypothetical, so they remain on the outskirts."

Finding what he's looking for, Huaisang holds out a paper. None of his underlings move to transport it for him, so it can be assumed that this implies permission to approach. "Is this the handwriting you saw? It belongs to Lan Xichen, the leader of the Lan Sect and close personal friend of Jin Guangyao. It's his Clan's restricted library that is thought to hold a copy of The Simple Man's Bright Mirror. However, access to that library is restricted to high-level Lan Clan members only. You understand the difference between a Sect and a Clan? The way we use the terms, Clan is the core of the Sect. Clan means blood or adopted family. So, very tightly restricted access."

Holding Doul's gaze without fear, Huaisang stays perfectly still while he waits for his guest to consider the evidence being presented. "It's reasonable that Lan Xichen might quote a portion of the text to his dearest friend. But to allow you to enter the library or the text to leave--and by the way I don't believe that it's an original unabridged copy--would be a severe violation of the Lan principles."

With a look to the others and while moving in a way that is meant to be non-threatening, Doul approaches and takes the sheet of paper. He'd hate to get stabbed in the gut because some underling got nervous.

"It is a beautiful hand." Even though it is not for him, he reads over as much of the letter as he can. "And I think it safe to say that I will remain unpaid."

Breathing in, breathing out, he hangs his head for a moment and tries to figure out what he ought to do next. What will he be permitted to do next? First things first, if he is not due to die or end up in a Nie sect cell, he will need to rest and heal up from the battle. Then, get the word out that the Jin have gone back on their promises of payment.

Huaisang lets him skim over the letter without much concern. He wouldn't have held it out if it was anything more than what was already known.

Returning the letter to its place on his desk, Huaisang takes his fan back out to play with it. "Safe to say you need a better employer."

Turning his attention to one of his aides, Huaisang nods. "Take him to be bathed and dressed. Then you may take him to the Nie Clan private library while he waits. Please have him treated like a guest as long as he acts like one. He need not be an honored guest, but the rank of mercenary general is respectable enough."

Obvious surprise flickers over the face of the addressed bureaucrat, but he recovers very quickly, stepping forward with a bow. "This way, sir."

Given that he doesn't seem to care much for bowing or proper terms of address, Doul doesn't act much like an honoured guest, so there's no worry there. He'll gladly take the bath and clean clothing, then be gratefully installed in the library to read. They might not have any of the specific books he's looking for, but there are a couple of interesting texts that he'd been curious about. For a barbarian mercenary, he is surprisingly literate.

He alternates between reading, rest, and meditation. Doul can accept that he is angry - both at himself and the Jin - and that it will do him no good to give into that anger in this moment. Revenge is worthless. He does not want to get his pound of flesh in repayment.

The hospitality he's given is merely adequate, as Huaisang had said. The bath water is tepid, but clean, the soap is of good quality, and the clothing looks like a warrior's hand-me-downs, patched but respectable.

Someone keeps an eye on him at all times while he's in the library, a quiet attendant lingering near the door, but no one interferes with his access to the books, and there are plenty of rare and valuable tomes to explore. Food is provided, and he's left mostly to his own devices in the precious library.

It's well after sunset before the door opens and Huaisang enters again, plopping down tiredly on a couch and considering his new pet. "I'm glad to see you haven't burned my library down yet."

Given that he's been out on campaign for some time, perfectly adequate is its own sort of luxury. He doesn't feel grimy and there's no dried blood flaking and itching. Plain soap and not to smell of unwashed fighters and horse sweat is more than enough.

"I could be encouraged to burn a library, but the price would be beyond obscene. Dinner and new trousers are not enough." He's just full of jokes, isn't he? Throughout it all, his voice is gentle in all the ways that he is not.

"I appreciate your respect for books." Huaisang tucks his legs up to the side, leaning against the arm of the sofa and watching him with low-lidded eyes. Casual and relaxed, as though he is already at ease with the predator in his home, the predator who was a deadly enemy mere hours before. "Perhaps you might tell me how you'd like to be addressed. And then we can move on to the business of your new employment. You'll be paid in advance with me, and given forthright information as long as you are forthright in return." Huaisang suspects that Doul has experienced different treatment with Jin Guangyao. Even when he seems forthright, there's something... slippery about every one of his promises. Huaisang is a Nie, though he may be an unusual one. He appreciates situations where he can be blunt and forthright, and those have been more common ever since he stopped pretending to be on good terms with the villainous head of the Jin Sect.

"Uther Doul." It's not a name that matches any in this part of the world, and he's untroubled by mispronunciation. There is a strange cadence to his words when he speaks and knows that it suggests a very odd accent of his own. "There are titles and whatever else, but they mean nothing here."

"As for payment, you know what I am interested in." From his spot kneeling on the floor, facing the couch, he looks from Huaisang to the book in front of him and then back again.

Huaisang waves his hand in a dismissively generous gesture at the library around them. The payment has already been provided and will continue. "I expect continued good treatment of the books. There will always be an attendant with you in the library, you may ask permission for any copying you wish to do, but you may read anything you like. I would like the agreement that anything you find in these walls regarding to the Nie Sect will never be discussed, confirmed, or alluded to outside of the upper palace. Anything else..." Huaisang shrugs. "If you work for me, then of course I want you as informed and educated as possible. As for the books you want in the Lan library, that may still be possible. If the Lans become involved in our war, if we win, if you remain at my side through those things... I'll give you permission to access and copy anything you want in their library."

It's a good deal. Better than anything he'd see from the Jins and they both know it.

"I have no desire to spread or share clan secrets." He is studying something else and he will not detail what that is. The texts he referenced before cover a range of topics, from history to obscure cultivation methods, and unless one had read them carefully, there is no clear connection.

"If I merely wish to take my sword and leave, what would you want in exchange?"

"Jin Guangyao's head."

Huaisang isn't going to tell him he can't leave, though he doesn't think he will. He also knows that his request isn't particularly plausible. It's honest, however. Doul may or may not want revenge for being sent to his death, but Huaisang wants revenge.

"I'd rather you stayed. But, as you understand, I'm in a very dangerous position at the moment. The defenses of my province have been breached. I have the fortress of Qinghe, nigh impregnable, but we can only last so long under siege, and our supplies have already been drained by the war. If you want more time in the library, I need a path to survival, if not victory. So. You know the battlefield. Advise me."

It's roughly what he'd expected and that means he has a good sense of what to counter-offer. "I will stay, do as you wish, and advise you to the best of my ability, all until I finish reading your library. At that point, if you are still at war, we can revisit our terms."

He'd had access to the public facing Jin libraries and those had a few interesting tidbits, but the best was kept hidden.

"It is not his head, but there may be a route to taking it."

The Nie Sect might be as book-focused as the Lan Sect, but his library is still extensive. Huaisang thinks it might take him at least a few years to read all the books therein, if not decades. He hopes he won't be at war that long. It's a very good offer. Very affordable, from Huaisang's point of view. "Please elaborate."

There's a tap at the door, distracting Huaisang, and a pair of servants enter carrying trays. The trays are set down in front of Huaisang, plenty of food for two and plenty of wine as well. Thanking the servants, Huaisang reaches first for the wine, waiting for them to leave and then helping himself to the food while he waits for Doul to lay out his plan.

As the food is brought in, Doul closes his eyes and hangs his head. He's working out the first few steps and once they are alone in the room, he starts to speak. "First, you need to ensure your survival. That is a matter of battlefield tactics and supply management - easy enough. Second, you cannot starve them out or beat them in war. They are too rich, too numerous, too connected."

"His head is what you need. Literally would work, but metaphorically could as well. What is a pearl so great that he would be willing to take an ill-advised risk?" Making note of his place in the scroll, he rolls it away and relaxes his posture. Not comfortable enough to lounge about, but he doesn't need to sit at attention. "You can tell a lot about a man by his books. I can know of all those he swore were in his personal library but that were too precious to be let out for sect use. Many were unusual, but few were that rare. There will be threads of connection. Skills and techniques that he wants to keep hidden."

"There are many, but the loyalties he holds are shaky, often bought by lies or fear. I managed to reveal many of his worst crimes, but the opinions are split as to whether those crimes are real, and even if they are, there's not enough certainty to unseat him. What he wants most is power and security." Huaisang's almost rambling, hoping that an idea will come as he speaks, or that Doul will draw his requested pearl out of his words.

"Perhaps you're the better one to name a pearl, at least when it comes to his books. My actual preferences in books are pornography, poetry, and romantic adventures. I acquire books because they have value and because I often need to research these things, but the books you named?" Huaisang shakes his head. "I have no interest in reading them. Is there a book that we could tempt him with, from your threads of connection?"

Doul closes his eyes again, his breathing slows, and he does not speak until he has something of value to say. "The opinion of others will not topple him. There are too many cowards and too much money. Crimes and evil are irrelevant if he has power or seems to have power."

"He must feel as if he is on unsteady ground, that he is forced to run, to keep pace, to make a mistake. Find something that makes his eyes roll like a panicked mare." What is that? He doesn't know yet. "If his men abandon him, he would react swiftly; but if they doubt him, that will feed into his fear. His need for power."

"True or not, he must hear rumour in the night. Casual words over wine that drift through the window and lead to madness. To panic."

Huaisang makes a frustrated grunt noise and leans back, picking at a bit of pastry. "I have been trying to come up with such inspiration for some time now. And if we invent such a rumor and find a way to attack him with it, then what? How shall we reach his window, and how do you plan to leverage the ill-advised mistake?"

He wants some genius or advantage, he wants Doul to leverage whatever knowledge he has from being inside Jin Guangyao's army in order to turn it here. "You are my new variable. I've attacked him with rumors before. What can you do?"

"There's the flaw. What does he care about something invented?" Doul shakes his head slowly, as if he's trying to clear a thought from his mind. "I don't know what it is, not yet, but the words he needs to hear have to frightening him. To startle him. They do not need to reach many ears."

"It needs to be as if he and his dearest friend were walking in a garden. All is calm, lush, and perfectly neat. And then lightning strikes his friend - not him - but that the strike makes him recoil in fear." What is the lightning? That he doesn't know, not yet. "You can hold off his army, but to destroy them, you only need ruin a single man and I've yet to meet one who's worst enemy wasn't also himself."

Huaisang grunted with tired frustration, leaning back and rubbing his hand against his brow. All those crimes of Jin Guangyao that he had revealed, and yet. The timing hadn't been right. Who cared about some murdered whores? What ruler hadn't arranged a few well-timed accidents for his siblings? Many of his supporters had abandoned him, but not nearly enough.

There is one idea in there, and he glances over. "It might mean risking the wrath of the Lan Sect, but it could be done. Lan Xichen has dismissed Jin Guangyao's crimes again and again. Enabled them, looked the other way. Jin Guangyao murdered my older brother, a Sect Leader, using a technique gotten from the Lan Sect library. I always thought he snuck in, and yet. If Lan Xichen could be tarred with that brush... he might merely be an accessory to the crimes, but he could be an angle to be used."

"If they care about their reputation enough, it might ensure that they will not aid the Jin further. You could pull them from the war." It's a plan that focuses on Lan Xichen rather than Jin Guangyao, but it's a start.

"I will need more time to think, to draw connections between the books that were missing. Some of which I only know by reputation." He gently taps at the scroll by his side as if to suggest he'd already started reading up and trying to learn what was so vital to keep secret.

"For what it is worth, I am sorry that your brother was taken from you."

"It has been a long time, but I appreciate your sympathy." It never gets easier. Still, Huaisang doesn't want to offer that kind of vulnerability to someone he had in chains earlier that day.

And he has a city under siege to lead.

Rising to his feet, he leaves the rest of the food and wine for Doul, if he wants it.

"You have one day to come up with a plan for me," he declares on his way to the door. "Or I will come up with orders for you to obey."

Doul watches the young man leave. He has work to do and too little information to do it well. What does he know of Jin Guangyao? Not enough to know the size and shape of the lever to move him.

For now, he will eat, read, and sleep as he can. Escape would not be wholly impossible, but it would likely be more trouble than its worth. By morning, he has a handful of strange ties between the missing books, but he is still lacking context. He scribbles out a quick note in a less than elegant hand and leaves it with one of the various stewards before he finds a place to rest.

What is true about Jin Guangyao that he flaunts? What is true that he hides or pretends to hide?

You do not need to guess his secret to make him bolt, but you do need to guess close enough that he thinks you know. Did he kill someone by accident? Or worse, did he spare someone he should've killed? What would make such a man spare someone?

Who would know a secret so valuable that he would have them killed as a precaution? Can you determine that secret from their relation to him?

For that message, Huaisang makes time, though it is between meetings. He comes in to the library and sits, starting to answer the written questions without preamble.

He spills out answers one after the other, telling everything he knows of Jin Guangyao, who was Meng Yao, who has murdered so many and ruined so much. He's exhausted by the time he finishes, in tears, but he pushes through it. This is the gamble he's taken, the agreement he's made. The better armed his soldier, the better this will work.

Exhausted, he lays across the couch, burying his head in his arms. "What else do you need to know?"

Throughout the whole, messy story Doul listens quietly but with rapt attention. He soaks it all in, the information and the way in which it was told. It's a messy thing, a thing that has already endangered his own interests and that cannot be borne.

"Give me three days. If I don't have it then, I won't have it at all." What else will he need? "I will need to be outside for some of it. Or somewhere I can spar. With partners."

"I'll need to work through the possibilities." It's an unusual request, but he clearly processes his ideas in odd ways. A cultivator or a native to this land comes at a problem in one way and Doul is going at it from a very different angle. "There's a hinge somewhere. The keystone that will cause collapse if it's moved."

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