For a moment, all’s still.  Then in the distance, we hear a shout.  One of the southern men says, “Ah-He!” in a warning voice.  I hear hoof-beats approaching, but I’m damned if I’m going to break eye-contact first.  Then a bored voice says, “Hou He, what the fuck are you doing?  I don’t like it when people hold swords at my friends’ throats.”  The voice hardens.  “Stand down!”

The sword’s whipped away, just nicking me as it goes.  I turn to face the owner of the voice, knowing what I’m going to see.

He’s young, elegant, even a little affected, but I know from experience that his affectations conceal serious muscle and his banter covers a sharp mind, when he can be bothered to use it.  He’s dressed spectacularly in a crimson robe with a short cloak of snow-leopard fur slung casually over one shoulder.  His long hair’s twisted up with gold and falls almost to his waist.  He’s wearing gold earrings, gold bracelets and a gold collar.  He’s grinning all over his handsome face.

“Ah-Shan, it seems that the news of your death was a little premature,” he says.  “Ah-Ru, good to see you.”  Riding forward, he leans in and kisses me on the cheek.  Shao Ru gets a pat on the shoulder.

I turn to the Third Prince.  “Your Highness, may I introduce Kong Guanyu, eldest son of Lord Kong Ling.”

Yan Jianhong nods, bemused. 

Kong Guanyu bows politely.  “Greetings, Your Highness.  We’ve been expecting you after what happened in the capital.” 

“You’ve heard already?” I ask, startled.

He shrugs.  “Bad news travels fast.  Well, now that you’re here, you’d better come on in.”

Some years ago, Kong Guanyu, Shao Ru and I fought a short nasty campaign together against an invading tribe in the south.  Initially mutually suspicious, we ended up liking and trusting one another.  It’s a great stroke of luck that he happens to be here on the border, though when I heard from Wan Ning that Lord Kong’s men were manning the defences, I did have a fleeting hope that it might be so.  Guanyu hates the politics of his father’s court.  He prefers to be where the action is.

He falls in alongside me as we ride on.

“You turned up at just the right time,” I remark.  “I was about to get my throat cut.”

“Sorry about that.  Hou He’s a wild one.  He’ll bear a grudge, so you’d better watch out.  How long have you been on the road?”

“Twelve days.  Is your father here too?”

“No, but I’ll send him a message.  We’re going to the Old Fort.  That’s where the border force is spending the winter.  It’s not too bad as winter quarters go.”

“Life too boring in the city?”

He laughs.  “They made me get married again.  Couldn’t wait to get away.”

“How many's that, now?”

“Three wives, two children, both girls.  My mother’s looking under every rock for somebody who’ll give me a son.   Such a fucking bore.”  He hesitates.  “I heard about you and the Sixth Prince.  Sorry it ended badly.”

“It didn’t.  He’s fine.  He’s in the capital.”

Kong Guanyu stares.  “We heard he’d been assassinated.”

“Jinhai killed the assassin and took his place.”

“Hah!  Not just a pretty face, then?”

“Far from it.”

“So why didn’t he come with you?”

“We left in a hurry.  He stayed behind with my sister.”

“I could find you a substitute.’

“No thanks.”

He laughs.  “The faithful-unto-death type, are you?  We’ll see.  So, that’s the Third Prince?  And I take it the old codger’s ex-Prime Minster Li?”

“Yes, but don’t underestimate him.  He’ll run rings round you.  Not that it’s difficult.”

“Bastard,” he says affably.

Two hours’ riding brings us to the Old Fort, a massive square construction of grey stone surrounded by a deep ditch.  It’s currently sheltering a fraction of the manpower it would normally house, so there are plenty of quarters to choose from.  We’re housed together:  the Prince in the largest apartment as befits his rank, Shao Ru and I in another, Li Wei and Wan Ning in a third, and the two young men in a fourth.  The furnishings are adequate but not luxurious, but after so many nights sleeping rough, even the Prince doesn’t complain. 

“The Prince and Sir Li will eat in their apartments, but you others will eat with the officers,” Kong Guanyu says, “You’ll know what to expect.  There’ll be hostility.”

I nod with an inward sigh.  This is inevitable.  The Prince may be spared overt unpleasantness, but we soldiers will be lucky to avoid trouble.  I warn the others, advising them to go about in pairs and to watch their backs.  It comes as no surprise to them.  We’re in enemy territory after all.

Kong Guanyu does his best to protect us by eating with us on the first evening to signal that we have his trust.  He’s the Commander of the Fort.  Hou He’s his second-in-command, a fierce fighter and a hothead by all accounts.  I’m guessing that any trouble we have will come from him, but there’s nothing I can do about it till the trouble arrives.  But there are sidelong glances and an uneasy silence when we come to the table for the evening meal.  There are ten officers and sub-officers in charge of some three hundred men.  We’re gathered round a big table and my people have been split up, either by chance or intentionally.  I’m on one side of Kong Guanyu and Hou He’s on the other.  He won’t meet my eye.

The food’s basic, but plentiful.  As the meal progresses, Kong Guanyu keeps up a flow of idle conversation, to which I respond as best I can.  At the foot of the table, Shao Ru has embarked on a long involved joke.  Judging by his gestures and the expressions of the men round him, it’s one of the dirtier ones.  Being older than all of us by some ten years, Wan Ning’s left more or less alone, but the two young men are finding themselves the butt of some jeering remarks.  Ren Baiyi’s having trouble keeping his temper, but Zi Wuying reacts with stolid calm to all the provocation.  A long loud burst of laughter around Shao Ru lessens some of the tension, but at my end of the table things take a turn for the worse, for as the meal ends, the serious drinking begins.

It starts off with Hou He proposing a toast to the newcomers, to which I’m obliged to reply, which I do by proposing a toast to our host.  Then the man next to Hou He proposes a toast and again I’m obliged to reply.  And so it goes round the table, with the toasts, disguised as jokes, becoming more and more insulting.  They’re playing with me.  Kong Guanyu sits back in his chair with a slight smile on his face.  He knows I have a hard head.  All the same, I’m glad when Shao Ru decides to intervene.  Staggering to his feet, he launches into a speech of thanks to our southern brothers, which somehow wanders off into far realms and gets diverted into another long joke.  By the time they’ve all finished wiping their eyes, the whole point of the toasts is lost and the company breaks up in a reasonably good mood.

We retreat in good order.  Back in our quarters I drink as much water as I can while Shao Ru, scowling, sits muttering every filthy word he knows.

“Keep it together Ah-Ru,” I say, “It’s just the beginning.”

“Bring it on,” he says, showing his teeth, “I can’t wait to make mincemeat of some of those sneering bastards.”

His chance comes next day.  I’m in conference with the Prince, Li Wei and Wan Ning when Ren Baiyi bursts in without ceremony.  “You’d better come,” he says.

Down in the courtyard, there’s a crowd of yelling men.  The quality of the sound tells me instantly that a fight’s in progress.  We push through to the front.   Shao Ru’s engaged in vicious combat with a man a head taller than he is and nearly twice as broad. 

The Prince grips my arm.  “Stop it,” he says urgently. “Tell them to stop.”

“Can’t do it, Your Highness.  Don’t worry.  I’ve never seen Ah-Ru beaten.”

This is true, but all the same, Shao Ru has to call on all his exceptional skills and every dirty trick he knows in order to defeat this opponent, which he eventually does, and fairly comprehensively at that.  Face dirty, swollen and bleeding, he glares round at the crowd, which is now shifting and muttering.  “Anyone else?” he bellows. 

No-one takes him up on the offer.  Somebody brings a pail of water to throw over the unconscious opponent, while Shao Ru limps over to us, wincing.

“Who started it?” I enquire.

“They did.  Oh fuck, here comes laughing-boy to throw the book at me.”

Indeed, Hou He’s pushing his way through the crowd towards us.  “Fighting’s forbidden,” he says, hardly bothering to hide his smile. “That’s two days in the cells.”

“Tell that to your men,” growls Shao Ru.  “They started it.  You might stand by when someone insults your mother but I’m damned if I will.”  Blood trickles from his mouth and he wipes it away impatiently.

“Ah-He,” a silky voice breaks in.  The crowd divides subserviently as Kong Guanyu strolls forward, dressed in another startling outfit, this time of black and gold brocade, with a fan in one hand.  “Let’s be reasonable, shall we?  I’m afraid our men undoubtedly started it.  But I think we all agree it was a fair fight.”  He looks round with his eyebrows raised and an obedient mutter rises from the crowd.  “Well then, let’s just put it down to learning to understand one another better.  Good fight, Ah-Ru.  Ah-He, walk with me.”

He strolls away and Hou He follows him with a last angry glance at us.  The crowd starts to disperse.  The semi-conscious opponent is removed by several of his friends.  I put a hand under Shao Ru’s arm.  “Let’s get you sorted,” I say.

Back in our quarters, everyone gathers while I see to Shao Ru’s wounds.  The Prince is in a fluster.  “They’re picking on you deliberately!  It can’t be allowed to go on.  Representations must be made.”

“That would be useless, sir,” I say patiently, “It’ll go on until we win their respect.  Let us handle it.”

“I’ll speak to Lord Kong when he arrives.”

“That’ll only make things worse.  Shao Ru says bluntly, “It’ll seem like whining.”

Everyone nods emphatically. 

Li Wei says, “Shao Ru’s right, Your Highness.  We’ll lose Lord Kong’s respect if we complain.”

The Prince breathes in jerkily.  “I had no idea anything like this would happen. I – I’m sorry.”

This is probably the first time in his life that he’s ever apologized to anyone.

“Sir,” I say, “we’re here to serve you and if this is what it takes, then we’ll do it.  You have to concentrate on negotiating with Lord Kong.  That’s your job.  Let us take care of the rest.”

This seems to steady him.  “Yes, you’re right, Commander.  Thank you.”

He leaves with Li Wei and Wan Ning.  The atmosphere lightens.

“D’you think he’s up to negotiating with that old wolf?” Shao Ru says, feeling his jaw with care.

“I bloody well hope so, or all this will be for nothing.  Did you lose any teeth?”

He runs an experimental tongue round his mouth.  “All present and correct.”

“Ribs all right?  Knuckles?  Legs?  Family jewels?”

“Bruised.  Nothing broken.  But if Ah-Zhou turned up with some of his stinky potions, I’d hug him.  By the way, how’s your head after last night?”

“Probably better than yours.”

“That’s not saying much.  When’s Lord Kong arriving?”

“In a week’s time.”

“Let’s hope we’re all still in one piece by then.”

But unexpectedly we get a reprieve.  That evening Kong Guanyu invites me for a private dinner.

“I’ve told  Hou He that he’ll get a chance to challenge your men in a contest of skill when my father arrives.  Until then, I’ve warned him to lay off you.”

“What sort of contest?”

He smiles provocatively.  “You’ll find out in due course.”

His quarters are extremely luxurious.  He’s brought in carpets, hangings, a large comfortable-looking bed and a marble bath-tub.  Typically, he’s also imported a couple of skimpily-dressed girls who are serving us our meal.  They find many occasions to brush against us, leaning over our shoulders to fill our cups with wine, smiling and casting inviting glances.  Having served the food, they settle down on cushions beside us.  Kong Guanyu’s girl cuddles up close to him, stroking his arm, pressing herself against him, occasionally feeding him tidbits from his plate.  Mine tries to do the same, but I gently discourage her.  Kong Guanyu likes playing games.  It doesn’t mean I have to play along.

At the end of the meal, he sends the girls off with a casual word.  They disappear in a flurry of floating garments, casting disappointed looks back at us. 

I say, “You shouldn’t allow them up here.  It’s a security risk.”

Kong Guanyu pours more wine, picks up his cup and looks at me over it.  “I’m not a monk.  Neither are you.  Are you determined not to be tempted?  It’s going to be a long winter.”

“I’ll just have to keep busy.”

“Ten gold pieces you don’t hold out.”

“You’re on.”

He empties the cup.  “You were never much one for the women,” he remarks.  “What’s so special about your little Prince?”

“Everything.”

“Bloody oyster.  I’ll pump Shao Ru for details.”

“You can try.  Do you think your father will agree to keep financing Yan Jianhong?”

“Depends what the incentives are.”

“A treaty of cooperation and lots of loot.  We emptied the treasury at Qiu City.  Wang Meng had a fortune in gold and jewels and it’s all in the capital now.  And with cooperation, there’ll be trade.  Good for everybody.”

“There might be a price.”

“What kind of price?”

“I have a lot of sisters who need husbands.”

I sit thinking about this while he refills our cups.  “Your Emperor’s a dickhead,” he remarks, “Started a war and couldn’t finish it.”

“No arguments there,” I say.

“You think Yan Jianhong would be any better?”

“Yes, I do.  He’s young and inexperienced, but he listens to advice and he trusts Li Wei, who’s a very wise man.  But nothing’s going to happen while Xu Yating and Du Xun are calling the shots.”

“Could we try assassins?” he suggests, leaning back lazily on his cushions.

I shake my head.  “The Imperial Guard’s all on Xu Yating’s side.  There’s no way an assassin could get close.”

“Bribe somebody in the palace?  A eunuch or a maid?”

“Possibly.  I need to get in touch with Jinhai and Yuan Song, find out what they’re thinking.”

“Write me a message and I’ll send it tomorrow.  Who’s Yuan Song?”

“A courtesan.  He owns the most expensive brothel in town.”

“You trust a courtesan?”

“Shao Ru calls him a nine-tailed fox, but he’s on our side.  A clever man.”

Kong Guanyu lifts his arms above his head and stretches.  “So, it looks like you’ll be our guests for the winter.  Well, it’s not so bad here.  The hunting’s good, for one thing.  And it doesn’t get too cold.  And we can get to the city in a couple of days if we fancy the fleshpots.”

“Sounds all right.  There’s just one thing.”

“Oh?”

“The bath-water isn’t hot.”

“Mine is,” he says, grinning, “I guess the servants just don’t like you.”

Over the next few days, the bath-water doesn’t get any hotter, but the general aggression subsides.  However there’s a familiar air of anticipation about the men in the fort.

“They’re looking forward to whipping our asses,” says Shao Ru who, as ever, has his ear to the ground.  “What’s Guanyu going to land us with?  He always was a devious son-of-a-bitch.”

“He won’t say.”

“Bastard,” Shao Ru growls.

Devious or not, Kong Guanyu keeps his word.  A coded message is sent to the capital.  In ten days’ time, our friends will know we’re safe and in another ten, we may get word back.  In the meantime, the fort’s in a frenzy of preparation for the visit of Lord Kong, a formidable warlord with a huge family and a large private army.  The Prince is nervous, as well he might be.  We’ve all been working with him to prepare him for the negotiations.  He’s an assiduous learner, but not quick at thinking on his feet.  Fortunately, Li Wei is.

Lord Kong arrives on schedule, accompanied by a tightly-packed band of warriors.  He’s also brought the other two southern Lords, Zu Bao and Teng Mu.  On the night of his father’s arrival, Kong Guanyu holds a banquet in order to introduce us.  Accordingly, we enter the banqueting hall in a body.  The three Lords are seated at raised tables at the end of the room.  Halting before them, the Third Prince and Li Wei bow, while the rest of us go down on one knee in the military salute. 

Lord Kong motions us up with a wave of his hand.  He’s a thickset man in middle age, less good-looking than his son, his hair plaited with gold in the southern style, his drooping moustache and beard also glittering with gold.  He looks like a very tough customer indeed.  Lord Zu is small, thin and elderly, but according to reports he’s both clever and cunning.  Lord Teng’s much younger, having just succeeded his father as Lord of his province.  He looks nearly as nervous as the Third Prince.

“Sit, sit, your Highness,” Lord Kong says genially, “All of you, sit.  Which one of you is Commander Liao?”

I bow again.  “I am, my Lord.”

“Ah, the hero of Qiu City.  We’re especially honoured.  I’d like to hear about it, if we have the time.”

“I’d be happy to tell you, my Lord.”

We’re shown to our tables, all of which are below those of our host.  This is a minor discourtesy which we’re obliged to accept.  Kong Guanyu rises and proposes a toast.  Then he makes an announcement.  “To honour my father and Lords Zu and Teng, we’ve organized a contest tomorrow between a team led by Hou He and one led by Commander Liao.  It’ll be a competition of mounted archery.”

An excited buzz crackles round the banqueting hall.  Hou He’s smiling and the men round him are punching one another’s shoulders.  I hear Shao Ru utter a soft expletive.  “Cunning bastard,” he adds, but he’s hiding a grin. 

“Don’t look too pleased,” I say warningly.

The Prince's brow is knitted with worry.  “Mounted archery?” he repeats.

“Our specialty, sir,” Shao Ru says, “Don’t worry about a thing.”

Kong Guanyu has provided musicians and dancing girls, but no-one’s really looking.  The talk around the hall’s all about the competition.  At the end of the meal, when people usually get up and move about to chat to their friends, Kong Guanyu strolls over to me, cup in hand. 

“Well, are you happy?” he enquires.  “I should warn you, Hou He’s no slouch with a bow and arrow.”

“Is that why he’s smirking?” Shao Ru asks.

Kong Guanyu goes on.  “I’m going to start a rumour about your four-arrow trick.  I hope you can still do it.”

“I can still do it.”

“And are Ah-Ru’s honourable wounds better?”

“Yup,” says Shao Ru.

“Excellent.  I’ll be betting on you.”  He moves indolently away.

“Bastard hasn’t changed at all,” says Shao Ru.