Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [263]
The dragon rumbled deep in his chest.
"Noble Daughter, do you wish to take this on yourself?" Although a company of Imperial archers stood at the ready, the Emperor turned to the princess, offering her the right of vengeance she had once craved. I was glad when after a moment's hesitation, she refused it with a slight shake of her head. She had enough blood on her hands, and I cared for her, more than I had ever reckoned. The Son of Heaven nodded, raising one hand and lowering it. "So be it. Let us make an end."
Imperial bows rose and sang.
I don't know how many arrows pierced the stalwart figure of Lord Jiang Quan, the enemy I barely knew. A dozen? Two dozen?
Enough. He fell without a sound, his body bristling with arrows.
Black Sleeve was different.
Clad in crimson robes, he sat upright in the saddle. However old he was, he looked no older than fifty or sixty years, a younger version of his father. His long, elegant face was rigid with disdain, dark eyes blazing with fury in it, his gaze locked on his father's. Master Lo returned it without flinching, returned it with grief and compassion. The alchemist made no move to dismount until the Emperor gestured, and several of his guards stepped forward to prod the captive with spears.
"Lo Yaozu, known as Black Sleeve." This time, there was sorrow in Emperor Zhu's voice. "You stand accused of conspiring against the Mandate of Heaven and inciting rebellion. You stand accused of exploiting one of the Celestial Beings to defile the reputation of the Imperial heir. Do you deny it?"
Head held high, Black Sleeve made no reply until the dragon arched its long, shimmering white neck and uttered another menacing rumble. At that, the alchemist paled, though he held his ground. "I make no denial."
"Why? "The word slipped from Master Lo's lips, filled with anguish. He bowed rapidly three times toward the Emperor. "Forgive me, Celestial Majesty. I cannot help but ask."
The Emperor nodded. "And I would hear Lo Yaozu's answer. Why?" He gestured at Lord Jiang's motionless, bristling body. "Jiang Quan's ambitions, I understand. He sought the Throne of Heaven for himself. What did you seek and why?"
A spasm of emotion crossed Black Sleeve's face, curling his upper lip. His gaze settled on us, one by one.
I shivered at the pain and venom in it.
"Look at them, Honored Father," he said with contempt. "You would not lift a finger to aid your beloved wife, my beloved mother, when she lay dying; and yet you crossed oceans and mountains to aid this abomination of an heir to the Throne of Heaven, this girl masquerading as a warrior."
Snow Tiger's head snapped up, eyes blazing, her sword singing free of its sheath.
Black Sleeve ignored her. "And them." He jerked his chin at Bao and me. "You would not consent to teach your own son. Do you not see what promise I held? I might have saved my mother if you had consented to teach me. Look at the pupils you chose instead. A common peasant—some Tatar's bastard by the look of him—and a sorcerous barbarian, neither with the wits to master the ancient arts." The pain of an old, old wound trembled in his voice. "Are you proud, Father? Are you proud?"
"No," Master Lo Feng said quietly. "I am not proud of the youthful folly that led me to steal a dragon's pearl. I am not proud of the youthful ambition that led me to seek to overturn the order of nature. Most of all, I am not proud of my failure to convey the wisdom of my maturity to my son. For that and what my failure has wrought, I grieve most deeply. Oh, Yaozu! Do you not understand that your mother died as she wished, at peace and in harmony with the world?"
The alchemist turned away, averting his head as though to avoid his father's words.
Master Lo's voice continued, gentle and sad and remorseless. "It is true. And yes, my son, I am proud of seeking to aid her Noble Highness, a warrior in truth, violated by your deed. I am proud to play a role in undoing the folly of my youth."
The dragon made an approving sound.
"And I am proud of my pupils,