“... has arrived at the kitchen and received ser Charok’s approval. Regarding the other matter you entrusted this one with, everything is prepared in the antechamber as per your request.”
“Good.” Sitting in her wheelchair, Sarnai nodded and studied ‘Mister’ Rustram with a critical eye, this former soldier turned Sentinel and Rain’s second-in-command. A handsome man of twenty-three, Rustram’s clean-shaven chin and dignified moustache were a testament to his impeccable grooming and flawless manners. An able administrator and diligent worker, Rustram was so efficient and effective there was little left for Sarnai to do. A shame considering this was her excuse to hide away and avoid attending the party with her husband until absolutely necessary. She loathed events like these, having to smile and make nice with strangers while they stared at the youthful hero and his aged, decrepit wife with a mixture of pity, disgust, and curiosity.
Adamant to avoid socializing for as long as possible, Sarnai turned her attention back to Rustram. As efficient and capable as he was, Rustram was a valuable addition to the Sentinels and Rain’s most promising independent adjutant, but sorely lacking in Martial talent. Ai, what was Rain doing losing his temper and taking it out on poor Rustram in public? Sarnai should have stepped in long ago to educate her foolish son instead of leaving things for her dog-brained husband to handle. No matter, the best time to correct one’s mistake was yesterday, and the second best time today. How to smooth things over between Rain and Rustram? As the second son, Rustram’s chances of inheriting his father’s business were low so he would have to find his own fortune once his term of service ended. Perhaps she could play matchmaker and tie him to the People through marriage, ensuring their fertile waters would not flow into others’ fields...
Cognizant of her scrutiny, Rustram hid his discomfort well and asked, “Is there anything else you require, Lady Sarnai?”
Although it wasn’t her place to apologize for Rain’s mistakes, she couldn’t sit idly by and allow tensions to mount between them. “You’ve done well fighting at my son’s side and holding his retinue together. Speak, what reward do you desire?”
Taken aback by the abrupt offer, Rustram looked quite the fool standing there with mouth opened wide, but Sarnai resisted the urge to needle him about it. Hmph, and her husband said she didn’t know how to be diplomatic. After long seconds of silence, Rustram bowed his head and said, “Lady Sarnai, no reward is necessary, though this one begs a favour. This one hopes to find a Mentor to guide him on his Martial Path, but lacks knowledge regarding the Experts of the People. It would mean much to this one if Lady Sarnai could introduce him to one such Expert.”
Oh? How surprising. “Why do you seek strength?”
“To repay a debt and defend a life. Day by day, this one falls further behind and he fears he will no longer be fit to serve at Falling Rain’s side.”
“And that’s all you seek to accomplish? To serve, defend, and repay a debt? What will you do when all this is done?”
Raising his head, Rustram lowered his hands, looked her deep in the eyes, and dispensed with his formal tone. “I owe Rain more than I could repay in two lifetimes and he’s never asked for anything in return. Not only that, but he would never think to ask for reparations because he believes he was only doing what was right. That is the man your son is, and that is why I am proud to serve at his side. However, in recent times, I have become more burden than benefit, and since I am neither talented nor perceptive, I hope to find a Mentor who will point out my failings.”
Hmm... How interesting... Broad of shoulder and slim of waist, a slender build, but lean and dense. Strong legs and stronger lungs, though a little short at a hundred and eighty centimetres tall. Rain’s training had served Rustram well, but all in all, he could hardly be considered coveted goods. On a whim, Sarnai rolled herself to the open centre of the suite and commanded, “Draw your sword and attack.”
“I’m sorry?”
Locking her wheeled chair in place, she snapped, “That piece of metal you wear so prettily isn’t a decoration is it? Come, show me the skills of my son’s right-hand man. I can’t well recommend you to a Mentor without knowing your mettle.” The poor man glanced about the room hoping to find help, but Sarnai had long since sent her guards and servants to join the festivities in the courtyard. Her husband would brood and pout if he knew, but Sarnai neither needed nor wanted their aid or protection. Even if Rain’s suspicions were right and they had enemies lurking in the shadows, Sarnai prayed they would make a move against her so she could deal with them herself.
This meant there was no one in the room to help Rustram aside from Jimjam, who was too busy moping in the corner. Wearing a fetching red-silk vest and matching cap, the sweet kitten sputtered and sighed in the shadows, having refused to leave with his siblings and accompany his tormentor, Mei Lin, as she changed into a new dress. Though she sympathized with Jimjam’s plight, the poor thing looked darling and dressing him up wasn’t as embarrassing as she’d once thought. Many a soldier and nobleman dressed their horses in clan or house colours, so this was merely taking things one step further.
“Lady Sarnai,” Rustram said, taking his place across from her with his sword still sheathed, “This isn’t proper."
Rolling her eyes, Sarnai gave a well-practised snort of derision. “Pei. I’ll decide what is and isn’t proper. Why? Are you afraid of being beaten by a feeble old woman? Good, it means you’re smarter than you look, but I knew this already. Now, I wish to test your strength, so draw your sword and attack.”
It took a little more prodding, but eventually Rustram obliged and attacked, opening with a clumsy, half-hearted thrust. Pinching the blade between two fingers, Sarnai disarmed him with a sharp twist of her wrist and rapped him across the mouth with the hilt of his own weapon. “Pathetic. Again.”
Visibly annoyed now, Rustram retrieved his weapon and held the pommel to his bleeding lips, mumbling incoherently under his breath. His words were lost on Sarnai as she watched him Heal the cut before her eyes, once a sign of true skill but now a common sight among Rain’s retinue thanks to his Panacea Healing method. Oh, she was so proud of her boy, and now she finally had something she could brag about.
Finished with his inner monologue, Rustram attacked with a downward chop aimed at the crown of her head, but she saw it coming before his blade moved a single centimetre. With a flick of her finger, she sent his weapon off course, slicing through the air beside her and threatening to throw him off balance. Recovering a heartbeat too slowly, Rustram pulled back and reset their positions, a mistake in her eyes, and she wasted no time in telling him. “Why retreat? Afraid of getting hurt? You’re competent enough at Healing, so use this to your advantage. What is it my boy so loves to yell? Give flesh and break bone, yes?”
After allowing Rustram a single breath of time to reflect on her words, she waved him forward and they began anew. A few passes later, she discerned his greatest failing, a cautious, risk-adverse temperament which led to overthinking each move. “Think not of the weapon as an extension of your hand,” she advised while Deflecting yet another ill-conceived thrust, “but of your entire body. When walking along a cluttered path, do you think of where to place your foot before taking a step? Or how quickly to raise your hand when lifting a cup of tea to your lips? Of course not. You simply see, know, and act accordingly, making adjustments as they are required. In this same vein, during battle you must know how your sword will strike and where your body will move next, for there will be precious little time to think.”
For long minutes, Sarnai chastised and chided while Rustram’s sword failed to touch a hair on her head, but such was to be expected. If a young man like Rustram could pose a challenge, then her seventy-odd years of training would have been a complete waste. Her blood growing hot, Sarnai revelled in excitement as she exerted herself for the first time in months, itching to stand and fight after this morning’s excitement. Seeing so many talented youths testing their skills reminded her of an era long past, the days of her youth when Sarnai fought alongside Baatar in defence of the Empire, but her feeble legs kept her from reliving the glorious days of her youth.
No matter. With each passing day, she felt herself growing stronger, though there was still a ways to go before she’d be fully recovered. Besides, the past was the past, and a new generation of heroes had arrived, with her son standing at the forefront of his peers.
Falling Rain, the number one talent in the Empire. Even thinking it made her smile.
Knowing her limits, Sarnai soon brought the impromptu lesson to an end by snatching Rustram’s sword away a second time. “You are neither powerful nor skilled, crafty nor creative,” she declared while placing the sword across her lap, “but raw talent and pure strength are not the only avenues to power. Your chief advantage is speed, speed of hand, speed of foot, and speed of weapon, but your speed of mind is sorely lacking. By the time you’ve decided on an avenue of attack, your body has betrayed you and announced your intentions to your opponent. You’ve practised enough and your body knows how to fight, so trust your instincts and let them guide you in the dance of steel and death. It saves you a mere fraction of a fraction of a second, but it is within these fractions which life and death are decided.”
“This one thanks Madam for her guidance.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Ah, in all the excitement, Sarnai had gotten ahead of herself. “There’s tea in the kettle, go pour me a cup.” Panting as he did so, Rustram returned to loom over her head as he presented the cup with both hands. Mother above, was she fated to always be surrounded by mule-headed idiots? First her husband, then her son, and now her Disciple, fools one and all. “Is this how you greet your Mentor?”
Rustram’s eyes widened with realization, then joy as he fell to his knees, splashing tea across her lap in the process. “Disciple greets Mentor! Mentor will not regret this. Your Disciple will work hard to...”
Magnanimously overlooking his clumsiness, she accepted the cup and nodded along with his lengthy speech and promises, wondering if she’d made a mistake taking in so verbose a Disciple. When he finally finished speaking, he kowtowed thrice and was barely back on his feet when Sarnai launched into her first lecture as a Mentor. “I’ve never taken a Disciple before,” she started, happy to see a complete and utter lack of regret in his eyes, “nor am I a woman who will mince words.” Smacking him on the leg with his sword, she continued, “You are correct when you say you are neither talented nor perceptive, but such is life. No need to measure yourself against others, so long as you reach your full potential, then you will have not wasted my efforts.” Using his sword, she demonstrated a handful of wrist exercises for him to practice and rattled off a list of tasks to complete each day in addition to his regular training.
Despite her words, Sarnai was a prideful woman and would not stand having a mediocre Disciple. Since Rustram lacked talent and perception, then he could only make up for it with hard work and determination. When she finally sent her Disciple away, his enthusiasm had long since given way to dread and consternation, but she was only getting started. Seeing Rain matched against the greatest talents in the Empire had lit a fire in her belly and awakened a yearning inside her, a desire to pit her skills as a Mentor against the greatest Martial Warriors in the Empire. While Dastan would undoubtedly be a better candidate, there was something to be said about taking an untalented lump of clay and moulding him into a top-tier expert.
Then again, her goal might be laughable considering Rustram’s competition. Rain aside, the others would present a considerable challenge to her fledgling Disciple, especially Wu Gam and Adujan. No, she was “Du Min Yan” now, an enormous loss for the People, but Sarnai was delighted to see the little orphan doing well. Better than well in fact, already capable of external Chi usage at the tender age of twenty and to the extent that watching her in action even helped Sarnai better understand how to form and control her shards of Honed Chi. Truly a gem hidden in their midst and scooped up by Du Min Gyi, Sarnai only hoped Yan held no grudges against the People, whether it be because no family adopted her or because Sarnai’s mule-headed husband and son both mistook Yan for a boy on two separate occasions. She shuddered to think what that might do to a young girl’s confidence, but from the looks of things, the lovely girl had more than enough to spare.
Making a face at the still-sulking Jimjam, Sarnai snapped her fingers and gestured for him to come to her side. Responding as any typical cat would, the wildcat took his sweet time, yawning and stretching before padding over as if coming here was his choice to begin with. Plopping his too-large head in her lap, the sweet kitten mewled ever so quietly while pawing at his shirt, protesting the outfit once again. Running her fingers over his scalp, she marvelled at how expressive his furry face could be, those feline eyes blinking sleepily as she massaged his cheeks. It started as a joke but Rain’s pets had now earned a place in her heart as her furred-and-feathered grandchildren.
An octopus was a bit much though.
The bedroom door creaked open and Sarnai pursed her lips to hide her grin, fully expecting to have a human grandchild to spoil soon enough. With a radiant smile stretched across her face, Rain’s new concubine strode over and gave a slow twirl in front of Sarnai, showing off her new elegant wedding dress and jewelled hairpiece. “Thank you mother,” she said, settling down next to Jimjam as the servants filed out of the room. “Luo-Luo is ever so grateful for your kindness, this dress and these jewels are beautiful beyond compare.”
The skittish wildcat bristled at the stranger, but Sarnai soothed his nerves with a smack on the head. “No need for gratitude girl, you are joining my family. This is merely what is expected.”
Unaware of how close she came to being mauled, Luo-Luo’s relaxed disposition had no impact on her perfect posture, her back straight and legs folded to one side as she gave a wistful little smile. “Luo-Luo thanks mother regardless, for though she fears her Lord Husband is displeased, at least she has mother’s affection.”
“Bah, that’s just how he is. A shy boy, he takes time to warm up to strangers.” Except for that horrid Fung, who corrupted her sweet, innocent boy in a single night. Were he not Akanai’s Disciple, Sarnai would have boxed his ears in, young magistrate or not. Looking Luo-Luo up and down, Sarnai snorted and added, “You’ve nothing to worry about. He’ll be warm enough once he sees you in this dress.” Or out of it, not that it covered much. The girl was gorgeous beyond compare, a classical beauty with large breasts and wide birthing hips. That said, while she seemed clever and eager to please, Luo-Luo failed to display anything resembling ‘worldly knowledge’, having been coddled and spoon fed her entire life like a songbird in a gilded cage. Still, Sarnai was quite fond of her. Although at first glance Luo-Luo appeared docile and meek, there was a calculated cunning to her actions, nothing malicious but readily apparent to anyone watching. For example, she often ‘slipped’ and displayed a cute and girlish disposition, playing to the protective instincts of those around her. Her choice of outfits displayed scandalous amounts of leg, thigh, and bosom, meant not only to show off her beauty as a status symbol for her husband, but to also distract and entice the men and women around her. Even something as simple as seating herself on the floor instead of taking a chair seemed suspect, placing herself below Sarnai and on level with Jimjam to make herself seem less threatening. Her manipulations were harmless, but it proved there was more going on in Luo-Luo’s head besides pretty dresses and fancy parties.
Which suited Sarnai perfectly. Rain needed someone devious at his side, someone different from naive Mei Lin or stubborn Mila to keep him safe from dark machinations and unseen dangers. Better yet, Luo-Luo’s training included a comprehensive education in etiquette and diplomacy, filling a sorely-felt gap in their lives. Sarnai hardly knew the first thing about interacting with puffed up nobles and the same went for most of the People, but her husband and son were rising dragons of the Empire and leaving those blockheads to stumble blindly through their social interactions was a recipe for disaster.
Of course, none of this meant she trusted the girl without question. Even before Rain brought the matter up in Sending, Sarnai wondered if Luo-Luo was a spy sent by the Legate to uncover the secret of the People’s strength. Thank the Mother Rain had a good head on his shoulders and wasn’t blinded by a pretty smile. When Sarnai first heard about the Legate’s gift, she half expected to find her son lost in the throes of lust or worse.
Patting Luo-Luo’s cheek, Sarnai idly imagined what her grandchildren would look like while nodding towards the antechamber. Handsome no doubt, with beautiful smiles. “Now that you’re dressed, come pick out a zither. This old crone knows nothing about instruments, so I had several brought over for you to choose from.”
“Thank you,” Luo-Luo said, clasping Sarnai’s hand tight, “but Mother jests, for she is still a vibrant, vigorous woman and hardly an old crone.”
“Pei. No need for empty flattery, come now. Time is wasting.” Unlocking her chair, Sarnai spun about and wheeled away, but not before signalling for Jimjam to stay behind. The last thing she needed was for him to lose his head and destroy a room full of expensive instruments.
Luo-Luo scurried to keep up, taking speedy, short steps in her too tight dress. “It is no empty flattery Mother. Allow Luo-Luo the opportunity to style your hair and apply your makeup. A minor emphasis on your high cheekbones and-”
“Enough girl.” Putting an end to this nonsense, Sarnai gestured for Luo-Luo to get the door. “Come, no more dallying about. Go pick out your instrument and worry not about the price.”
“Luo-Luo will obey.” As the girl stepped away to inspect the closest zither, Sarnai’s heart ached with regret over how much they’d already spent on this wedding banquet, especially when she thought of how many people she could have fed and clothed back home instead. There was no helping it though, such was the price of fame and reputation. As the newly crowned number one talent in the Empire, if Falling Rain were to host a pauper’s banquet, all face would be lost and his title turned into a joke before the day was done. It’s not as if they couldn’t afford it; as a Major General, her husband earned an exorbitant salary and they hardly had any expenses, but this didn’t mean Sarnai enjoyed spending coin like water.
This, alongside how she’d walked in on Luo-Luo trying to convince Rain to pawn his valuables, was why she set a trap for the girl to step into. Sarnai had lied when she said she knew nothing of instruments. Her mother played the zither beautifully and had passed some of that knowledge down to Sarnai, though she hadn’t touched an instrument since her parents passed away. With Rustram’s help, she had a variety of zithers brought to the room, including a handful of gaudy, garish monstrosities made from expensive jade, gold, and platinum, meant for looking at rather than playing. Those were here to catch Luo-Luo’s eye and distract her from the plainer instruments, one of which was a zither made from baitong wood, an expensive, resonant material which coincidentally looked exactly like wutong wood, a cheaper, more common alternative. Thus, once Luo-Luo picked an ostentatious and impractical instrument, Sarnai would use the opportunity to chide the girl about her avaricious ways and-
“Mother, this one is perfect.”
Ruining Sarnai’s best laid plans, Luo-Luo sat in front of a common zither made from wutong wood, beaming as she ran her fingers across the silken strings and smooth surface. Frowning in consternation, Sarnai tried a different tack. “Are you sure? It looks a little plain and lacking in decoration.”
“Luo-Luo is certain. No need to worry Mother, one does not appreciate an instrument with one’s eyes, but one’s ears.”
Though Luo-Luo didn’t say it out loud, the disdain in her eyes when she glanced at the jade and pearl instruments made it clear what she thought of them. Even so, this common instrument was easily the cheapest of them all, and while Sarnai was hoping to teach Luo-Luo a lesson in restraint, it wasn’t to the point of purchasing a sub-par instrument. The baitong zither was the best instrument here and hardly cheap, but Sarnai was ready to buy it regardless. Trying one more time, she pointed at the baitong zither and asked, “What about this one? The merchant mentioned something about it being made from some special wood?”
Nodding in appreciation, Luo-Luo answered, “Yes, it’s beautifully crafted and were we staying in Central, Luo-Luo would choose it without question, but baitong wood has been known to crack and shatter in colder climates. Wutong wood is more durable and should better withstand the lower temperatures of the north. What’s more, the difference in quality will hardly be noticeable in the Magistrate’s courtyard, as it wasn’t built with acoustics in mind.” Patting her chosen instrument fondly, she added, “This will suit Luo-Luo just fine.” Smirking as she stood, Luo-Luo circled around and took the handles of Sarnai’s wheeled chair. “Since we have time to spare, perhaps Mother would be open to Luo-Luo’s earlier suggestion? Please, Mother has done all this for Luo-Luo and it would mean so much if this one could do something in return...”
Scrunching her nose, Sarnai looked into Luo-Luo’s eager eyes. The girl’s makeup skills were rather impressive, boasting a natural, understated style meant to amplify her beauty rather than hide her flaws. Of course, it helped that the girl had no discernible physical flaws to speak of, but since Sarnai had little else to do in the interim, she sighed and nodded ever so slightly. Putting Luo-Luo’s squeal of delight out of mind, Sarnai warned, “I’ll not stand for looking like those Central harlots mind you, with powder caked on so thick they could pass for ghosts.”
“Certainly not, Mother,” Luo-Luo replied, pushing Sarnai’s chair back towards the bedroom. “Mother is so beautiful, she hardly needs any makeup at all, merely a small touch of rouge on the lips and...”
As the girl nattered on, Sarnai tempered her expectations. She knew how she looked, old and wrinkled while her husband was still young and virile, no amount of makeup could change this. Whatever the outcome, she greatly approved of Luo-Luo and hoped that with a woman like her at his side, perhaps Rain’s wandering eye would finally come to a rest, his harem of three finally enough to satisfy his prodigious appetite.
And if not, then Sarnai would step in and correct him of his wicked ways. Though she loved her son and wanted him to be happy, as the number one talent in the Empire, there were high expectations for his future. She couldn’t stand idly by and watch him succumb to the pleasures of the flesh, as so many young talents had done in the past, but she wouldn’t go overboard. So long as he treated his wives and concubines well and earned enough to support them, then what reason would she have to interfere? It was known that great men had great appetites, and her son, Falling Rain, was undoubtedly a great man. Perhaps given time, he might truly become Unrivalled under Heaven, but with the Defiled rampaging through the West, time was what they lacked the most. Thus, it was her job to regain her former strength and hold up the skies for her talented son, giving him the time he so desperately needed, no matter the cost
For that's what parents were supposed to do.
Chapter Meme