Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 165: Me Too

"For all I know, the neighboring fortresses have already fallen," Wuyi said. His eyes narrowed, as if the subject held particular interest for him. "Whatever the case, we cannot count on any help from the outside, nor can we hope that this is an isolated incident. We have to behave as if we have an unending supply of men and materiel, and we must try to keep the road west open.

We need to lure our enemy into some battles of our choosing."

He looked around at his group. "Does everyone understand?"

He looked at the Pavilion Mistress. "We have to be ready to destroy the bridge."

She nodded. "There's a method to do it. I have it connected to the fort array. It is regularly maintained: when a certain key is turned in the gate lock, the bridge will collapse into the river."

The warriors nodded their approval.

Wuyi stood. "Very well. Yun Ming, you are in charge of my construction project. Tom, Meiying, you will lead the patrols. Shen, get the big crossbow ballistas set up, and place them in those four covered positions," he smiled, "where I have marked them. Shen, also take charge of running the rotations inside the fortress too.

Don't worry about who is a warrior, who's an attendant, who's an archer. Just get the numbers right."

They all nodded.

"Are you planning to take a nap?" Baijian asked.

Wuyi smiled at the Pavilion Mistress. "My lady and I are going to raise a nice fog," he said. "She is a very potent array master, the fort has potent defense array that can make area around it foggy, I believe."

He had the pleasure of watching her eyes widen in surprise. Yun Ming paused. "And you? Young Master?"

"I am modestly talented in everything," he replied, nodding to his new Lead Warrior and General of his tiny army.

When warriors begin to leave Wuyi spoke, "Ah, Jia. Please don't go anywhere."

The other warriors rattled out; Jia stood uncomfortably by the door, and after a moment, it was just the three of them.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" the Pavilion Mistress asked. Jia writhed. "I love her," he said.

She smiled, to his shock.

"That is the best answer you could have given, under the circumstances. Will you marry her?" she asked. Wuyi made a noise. Jia stood straight. "Yes."

"What a dashing young fool you are, to be sure," said the Pavilion Mistress. "Whose son are you?"

Jia's lips tightened, so the Pavilion Mistress beckoned to him, and he came to her side. She leaned forward, touched his forehead, and there was a magnificent burst of color and sparkling shards, as if a sunlit mirror had shattered.

"Oh, special bloodline. No wonder the Young Master had been reluctant about your wedding to her," she said, and laughed. "I knew some of your clan members. You have twice the looks and twice the grace some ever did. Is your clan still the same? Changing sides with the flow of the wind?"

Jia stood his ground. "I don't know much, but I am guessing they are," he said.

The Pavilion Mistress nodded. "Young Master, I will take no action until our war is resolved. But what I say now, I say as a woman who has lived in the world under the heavens. And as a diviner. This boy could do much worse than the cleaning maid."

Jia looked at his Young Master, whom he feared more than ten Pavilion Mistresses. Ever since Wuyi had started guiding and teaching him, Jia had gained more respect for the Young Master. "I love her, my lord," he said.

Wuyi thought of Liwei he had been somehow infatuated with that first kiss of his, and he also thought of what the Pavilion Mistress had just said — He felt he shouldn't interfere too much here.

"Very well," he said. "All the best romances bloom in the midst of a good war. Jia, you are not so much forgiven as pardoned for this. Your pardon does not include further tumblings with said girl in the attendants' quarters. Understood?"

Jia nodded.

The Pavilion Mistress looked long and hard at the attendant. "Will you marry her?" she asked.

"Yes," said the attendant defiantly, bowed, and left the room.

Wuyi looked at the Pavilion Mistress and grinned. "And will her fellow attendants come with her? They'll liven up lives of my warriors , I have no doubt."

She shrugged. "He should marry her. I can feel it."

Wuyi sighed. And sighed again when he realized that her pavilion was going to burn tomorrow, but the Pavilion Mistress was more concerned about the wedding of the cleaning girl.

"Shall we go and make fog?" he asked.

She nodded. "Nothing would please me more."

Few days later. Wuyi rode west into the setting sun, his Qi cloak gathering what little light penetrated the clouds. He was on Haruki, his spirit beast. Haruki moved proudly.

It took four other attendants to prepare Haruki when Wuyi wanted to ride. Haruki hated being prepared by anyone else, but Wuyi was too busy to do it himself; as a young master, nobles did not prepare their own horses. Wuyi was in no mood to break that tradition. .

He had a dozen warriors and archers behind him, fully dressed in cloaks and Qi armor , and as soon as Haruki's hooves were clear of the Lower Town – empty and sullen but for the two archers on the stone gate towers – he gently spurred the great horse's sides, and Haruki began a heavy canter over the spring fields. The fog hid both the light and the terrain.

It was possible to be ambushed in the fog, as he was aware.

But this was his own fog, and it had some special properties. Besides Harmony as his radar kept giving him feedback.

He rode south along the trench, going slowly, looking down to see the work that had been accomplished. It was a broad, deep ditch with a wooden floor. He had hidden a surprise under the wooden floor, but in ground this wet, the floor served its own essential purpose.

The tiny walls of wood were too few to stop a determined enemy but, given time, he'd have the workers weave brambles and vines among them to create a stouter barrier.

He shook his head. It didn't matter a damn, because the whole thing was a ruse anyway.

There were five bridges across the trench, each wide enough for two fully armed horsemen to ride abreast without making their horses shy. Again, given more time, he'd arrange mechanisms to raise and lower them.

Given time, he'd make his opponent look like a complete fool. But he didn't think he was going to get any more time. He could feel – no better explanation than that – his opponent's frustration. Specter didn't have much experience fighting men. He was arrogant.

Me too, Wuyi grinned and turned Haruki to cross the last bridge before Bridge Fort. Haruki's hooves sounded hollowly, as if he were riding over a coffin.

Where'd that thought come from?

He'd walked down to the peach tree at sunset the night before. It looked beautiful; for some reason, it reminded him of his first kiss again. He wondered why. He remembered the touch of her lips on his.

Best concentrate on the matter at hand. Was he really getting infatuated with this woman? He couldn't afford such luxuries, he reminded himself.

He was running out of fog. Beyond, the spring fields were green with new grass that would eventually become hay and fodder – or weeds – all tinged red as the sun set.

He reined Haruki in and waited for his group to sort themselves out.

Baijian was at his shoulder, and Wuyi raised a hand. "Everyone look around. The fog makes it hard to see, but look how the ground is clear from here all the way to the wood's edge – not a ditch, not a hedgerow, not a stone wall. Keep that in mind. If we make another scout's path, it'll be along this path."

Baijian nodded.

Yun Ming shook his head. "Let's survive today before we borrow trouble for tomorrow."

Wuyi looked back at his man. "On the contrary, Yun Ming. Let us plan today for tomorrow's triumph."

A sigh touched Yun Ming's face. People would never believe the things he was experiencing with this young master.

"Keep your banter quiet for now!" Wuyi said. "We'll discuss this later." He kept his voice light, as if the issue were of no moment. "If we contact the enemy, we ride through them, rally on the whistle, and retreat into the fog immediately. No more. If we find boats, we destroy them. Is that clear?"

Wuyi did not look worried at all.

The warriors listened carefully. If they were nervous, it didn't show—they seemed merely attentive.

The horses fidgeted. Archers spat and tried to appear as unconcerned as their Young Master.

The fog seemed too thin to cover so many men, but nothing happened.

Then, well to the north, there were the sounds of men cheering, horses neighing, and the clash of steel on steel.

"There they are," muttered Wuyi, three words expressing fifteen minutes of nervous impatience. Baijian grinned. Yun Ming reached up and drew his sword. The Qi warriors behind followed suit.

But now Wuyi seemed in no hurry. The cries were redoubled.

Then there were coarse whistle calls behind them and high-pitched horn calls to the north.