Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [261]
"Guard her highness," he said tersely to Dai. Dai nodded, needing no instruction. He had appointed himself Snow Tiger's shadow. Where the princess went, Ten Tigers Dai was behind her, staff in hand.
I stayed to help with the wounded. Although I wasn't as skilled an assistant as Bao, and neither of us had a gift for healing, I knew enough of Master Lo's trade to help. It was grueling, gory, horrible work, and if I never saw the like of such destruction of human flesh again, it would be too soon.
From time to time, Master Lo bade me to sit with men too grievously injured to live. I thought at first that they would not like having the foreign witch keep them company in the hour of their death, but I was wrong.
Along with the princess, Bao, and Dai, I had descended from the sky in a dragon's claw.
I had helped stop the war.
And if I had come too late for them, they bore me no grudge. My green eyes and half-D'Angeline features didn't matter. I was a lucky talisman in the midst of horror, a glimpse of hope to take into the courts of the Yama Kings to face judgment in the afterlife. I was a living presence, offering whatever simple comfort I might.
Somewhere in the small hours of the night, I fell asleep holding the hand of a young man whose chest had been crushed by one of the Divine Thunder's projectiles. It was a wonder that he lived at all, drawing shallow, wet, laboring breaths that were terrible to hear. I held his hand and sang Alban cradle songs to him, and woke to find his fingers stiff and cold in mine and Dai shaking my shoulder.
"Her highness sent me to find you," he said. "You need to rest, and I do not think she wishes to be alone."
Too tired to protest, I stumbled after him. Master Lo was still awake, gliding like a spectre through the tents. Bao was propped in a corner and napping, his back against a tent-pole, the two halves of his broken staff across his knees.
Campfires and lanterns dotted the campsite. Everywhere, exhausted men slept. The dragon had departed to the distant peaks of White Jade Mountain. Although he had promised me that he would return, I felt his absence.
A respectable tent had been found for the princess. Dai led me to it, then took up a post outside the opening.
Inside the tent, a handful of sumptuous appointments gleaming, including a copper basin filled with water warm enough to steam. I met Snow Tiger's gaze. She was clean and scrubbed, dressed in clean sleeping-robes of rich, embroidered silk. She should have looked more like the daughter of the Son of Heaven, but she didn't. She looked very young and vulnerable and lost, and it was a loss no one else in the world could understand.
She drew a breath to speak, then shook her head, wordless.
"I know," I said softly. "It's all right. I understand." Keenly aware of how very filthy and tired and sore I was, I undressed and bathed with difficulty. "What news is there of the surrender, my lady?"
"Jiang Quan's generals have all surrendered without condition." She sounded as weary as I felt. "Lord Jiang and Black Sleeve escaped into the mountains. They are still missing, but their own men are hunting them."
I eased my aching body into a clean sleeping-robe. "That's good."
"Yes." Her voice hardened. "Once they are found, their fate is sealed."
My eyes felt gritty. I rubbed them, mindful that I had not slept for days. "What of the thousands of men they misled into battle? Surely your father will be merciful."
The princess hesitated. "To most, yes."
"He seeks to make an example of some?"
"No." She shook her head. "Black Sleeve may have perfected the formula for the fire-powder, but he did not create the weapons of the Divine Thunder on his own. He taught the formula to dozens of lesser alchemists. Hundreds, maybe thousands, labored on the design and production of the tubes. Hundreds more were taught to arm and wield them on the battlefield." In the soft, crimson glow of the lanterns, her face looked haunted. "My father is a strong man, strong enough to obey the will of Heaven. He does not seek this knowledge