Fate's Attendant 1.7

Two handspans of the sun’s travel later, Auntie Ling explained to an amused Hong Fei the nature of the changes to his card, but there was only so much she could do with gestures and dirt drawings.

Hong Fei smiled and nodded along, but it was hard for him to focus on anything that wasn’t how good his body felt. His lungs breathed easy, without tightness or pain in his back. The aches that followed him from the steppes had vanished completely. Even his hunger felt fresh and wholesome. And the wound on his arm? Both the ache and the inflammation were reducing. He’d likely be able to use it as soon as this evening.

Watching Auntie Ling, there was a clear connection to be made between the numbers floating above heads and the cards in the satchel—the former strengthening the latter—but Hong Fei wasn’t willing to commit to any particular understanding yet. That would come with time and exploration, both things he would have in abundance.

He rose from his seat to pat Auntie Ling on the shoulder. “That’s enough. I have what I need for the present, and I’m grateful for it.” He patted her again, marveling at the small miracle of motion. “My… my renewed health is blessing and a favor I’ll never forget. The rest will come. Our friendship is just beginning.”

Auntie Ling huffed a sigh, then looked at Hong Fei in wry exasperation. Who knew that communicating would be so difficult! He was right about one thing, though. Until he found a way to acquire more Fate Points, there wasn’t anything else he could do with the cards.

Hong Fei looked up and saw that the late afternoon sun had another two or three handspans to go before setting. “Can you run?” he asked. He’d grinned as he asked the question, the heaviness that had clung to his face was wiped away.

His was a handsome face, Auntie Ling decided, with clear eyes now that they weren’t clouded by injury. She nodded, and the rascal took off as soon as she’d done so, leaving laughter in his wake, like it was a race between children.

The giant badger huffed. Her dignity was beyond such trivialities. All the same, it wouldn’t do for Hong Fei to grow overconfident. She’d have to put him in his place, just this once.

###

Ruby Swift City began at the bottom of the gorge and climbed across the two sides like a vine overtaking the land, with a multitude of rope bridges stretching across the gap like tendrils. The sun shone down on glazed blue and red tiles. The walls of the buildings were built from marble in hues of white and gray.

Hong Fei was struck by the beauty of the place, an outpost of civilization amid the vigorous forest and the stark cliffs below. He especially admired the single, massive stone bridge that crossed the gorge at the city’s center, an engineering marvel. It connected the two sides without pillars—a pure arch almost like it floated between them.

Ruby Swift City was a balm to Hong Fei’s spirit, a relief from the green sea surrounding it, the destination he’d been seeking for almost half a year. He pointed to a residence high up on the far side of the gorge.

“Duke Yu’s residence,” Hong Fei explained.

The compound sprawled across the top of a ridge, its outer wall a dark slate as if in opposition to the colors elsewhere in the city, though the roofs of the buildings inside were visible and showed that they too were tiled in red and blue.

The enthusiasm he’d felt chasing after Auntie Ling diminished, and he stood a moment, staring at the compound and feeling daunted. Once inside those walls, he’d need to explain to the duke why a once-promising soldier needed patronage.

A hand on Auntie Ling’s shoulder, Hong Fei took a long breath. His steps grew tentative as he approached the city.

###

The last glimmers of the sun lingered by the time Hong Fei reached the city gate. A pair of guards stood before the tall wooden doors, flanked on both side by walls made from a harder stone than marble. The blocks were multi-colored and pebbled.

The forest around the outer wall had been cleared to a distance of half a li, so he’d had time to observe the gate’s guards, just as they’d had time to observe him. Notably, Auntie Ling was missing.

She’d simply vanished the moment before the guards came into view, then reappeared to alleviate Hong Fei’s panic and assure him she was well. That was how he had learned that she could inhabit the Uncommon Badger card.

For the hundredth time that day, Hong Fei felt an immense gratitude to the twist of fate that had brought the cards into his hands. There would be no need to explain her presence to the guards, after all.

His dress, on the other hand, was another matter. Hong Fei looked like he’d been taken to the top of the nearest mountain and sent tumbling down. Perhaps the guards would mistake him for a hermit or wandering cultivator.

They eyed his approach warily. The other visitors waiting to enter the city moved out of his way.

Ah, Hong Fei thought, they more likely think me a madman.

One of the guards stepped forward to take Hong Fei aside. The man’s uniform was clean and his boots well maintained. The design of a ruby swift, the bird with its wings spread in flight, was stitched into his shirt over the heart. The man carried a saber at his side. His hand was on the hilt.

Go as you mean to go, Hong Fei thought to himself. He made his body remember the feeling of command—straightening his back, clearing his eyes of distractions, and pulling his voice from deep within. “Good evening, soldier. I am here to visit Ruby Swift City.”

The guard paused, suddenly unsure of the identity of the visitor before him. “On what business?” he asked.

“My own,” Hong Fei snapped. Then, as if relenting to etiquette, he gestured to how he was dressed. “As you can see, I’ve had an encounter with the local wildlife. I’m in need of a bath, new clothes, and an inn for the night. Tomorrow, I will visit Duke Yu’s residence.”

The mention of the duke’s name caused the guard to hesitate further. He took in the exquisitely crafted scabbard at the visitor’s side, as well as his unusual footwear.

There was, the guard decided, safety in routine. He would stick to his business, and if anything should happen later, then it would be the fault of the guards on patrol inside the city. “Entry is five bronze coins,” he said, “You are also to pledge under the Dao or the deity of your choice that you do not intend theft while visiting Ruby Swift City.”

“I do so pledge,” Hong Fei replied, while taking out the necessary coins from his pouch.

That there was money in the pouch—the guard’s ear was keenly tuned to the jingling within—was a relief. A paying customer would always be welcome inside the city walls. Now, if anything really did happen, none of the blame would settle on the city gate.

Hong Fei was ushered inside the walls and promptly forgotten. Oil lamps lit the road ahead, and feeling as relieved as the guard, he stepped into Ruby Swift City.

###

No one refused directions to a man with a sword, so Hong Fei made his way steadily upward toward Swift Wing Bridge. He’d learned from those he’d questioned that the lower city was for stoneworkers and warehouses. The upper city was where he wanted to be, and the bridge’s abutments were home to two sprawling night markets, with the span in-between also lined with carts and stalls. And where there were people, there were bathhouses.

He paused along the way to eat a large bowl of noodles, bits of shredded pork and green onions floating atop the oily surface. His belly full, his next stop was a stall selling semi-formal attire. The merchant knew her business—she didn’t sniff her nose at someone in Hong Fei’s condition. Instead, she asked for money in advance, then directed him to choose what he liked from what was on display, took his measurements, and told him the tailoring would be finished by the morning’s second bell.

That was the mid-morning bell, he learned. The first was at dawn, the third at noon, fourth at mid-afternoon, and fifth at dusk. Somehow, he’d missed hearing the last bell while dealing with the guard at the city gate.

What he did hear was the merchant’s “tsk” as he was leaving her shop. She muttered under breath, “A man like that needs to eat more. A stouter figure would suit him.”

###

Hong Fei felt an intense anticipation as he surveyed the marble-clad building before him. Two separate chimneys, one to each side, pumped white smoke up into the night air. A colorful banner proclaimed it the Healthy Waters and Wholesome Body Bathhouse.

Inside, he poured out a handful of bronze coins onto the attendant’s counter. She counted each one twice, then handed him off to a barber and a laundress. The first trimmed his beard and tamed his hair. The second offered him a towel for his privacy, then grimaced at the state of his clothes as she took them away for washing. A bath boy came afterward to hand him a lump of soap and direct him toward the bath itself.

Hong Fei had ignored the gasps he’d heard from them. While his body had been healed by the cards’ magic, the scars left by years of fighting had remained, including those final wounds carved into him by the Askalousans.

They’d gone to great lengths to break Hong Fei’s cultivation—cutting apart his meridians and shattering his lower cauldron—without killing him directly. The great shaman who’d done the deed had intended for the steppe to finish him, an offering of the enemy’s life to the Sky Father above. Except Hong Fei had survived. Against common sense and the Askakousans fervent intentions, he’d crawled out from under the pile of his comrades’ bodies.

Scars were a part of a soldier’s life. Hong Fei’s just happened to be more prominent than others. And besides, he only had eyes for the water steaming inside the bath.

Etiquette demanded that he clean off the muck and dried blood plastered across his body and stuck in his hair first, so Hong Fei vigorously scrubbed his skin raw and waited impatiently for the bath boy to douse him clean with hot water before sending him back for more and repeating the cycle three more times. Hong Fei insisted.

Then it was bliss as he let himself sink into the bath itself, the redness of his skin intensifying from the heat penetrating deep into him. “Ahh,” he sighed and sat in utter luxury.

Eventually, Hong Fei recovered enough to open his bright eyes to see if there would be conversation, too, but the handful of other customers stayed away from the corner he’d claimed. His scars were simply too alarming, as was the sword he kept near him at all times. Fortune’s Favor rested within reach at the bath’s edge alongside the cultivator’s satchel and shoes.

Hong Fei closed his eyes and put the others out of his mind. He focused on the heat permeating through him. It was enough that he felt clean.

###

The lassitude of the bath lingered as Hong Fei stood at the exit, his clothes warm from the laundress’s ministrations. A light rain fell outside, and the oil lamps illuminating the night market twinkled. The street was shiny with water.

None of the people passing slowed the pace of their dealings. Such was life on Wild Green Island—if one wasn’t willing to do business in the rain, then they weren’t willing to do business at all.

Hong Fei turned away from the bridge to head toward the more affordable part of town. He needed to preserve as many of the coins in his pouch as possible in case the meeting planned for tomorrow didn’t go well.

Duke Yu ought to remember Hong Fei fondly, but it’d been many years since the duke had left for the capitol. The politics of the palace and the duke’s subsequent exile might’ve changed the man.

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