Chapter Eighteen #2
‘I can understand that, I am a craftsman myself,’ Lim said, with the note of pride he knew some mistook for vanity. ‘A shoemaker.’
‘Oh, how wonderful!’ Ren grinned in a way that lifted his thin cheeks. ‘Please do not look at my shoes in that case. I don’t treat them well. You’ll be horrified.’
Lim had already noticed the haggard state of the man’s straw sandals; one strap was just a day away from breaking, and there was mud thick on the soles. ‘I have coin for my horse’s upkeep but I can see to your shoes as well, if time permits? I’m uncertain how long I shall be in Manhao.’
‘Oh? Do you not wish to stay in the company of the person you visit?’ Ren laughed, turning away to survey the lotus pods in the next bucket. Lim blinked. Water dripped from the tip of the man’s queue.
‘I have come unannounced,’ he said carefully.
‘And it is a very busy time of year. The man I am visiting is…’ What was Xian to him?
He’d lied to himself the entire journey; the prince was simply a man who’d lost his shoe and needed it returned.
But what shoemaker rode his arse raw for six days to deliver shoes he’d not asked a single coin for to a man who may not wish to lay eyes on him?
A mad one, perhaps? Even if the Daoguang Emperor himself had demanded Lim’s service, he’d have balked at the journey, were the prize not rich enough. ‘He is a customer of mine in Kunming.’
Lim could have named a hundred other towns, but had spoken the truth when a lie was needed. He cursed behind his teeth, hoping Master Ren was not so astute as he seemed.
The farmer studied his lotus, running his finger over the rounded bumps that clustered in the circular pod. The Red River could not be far from the farmhouse; the faint call of riverboat men came with the travelling wind.
‘Kunming?’ Ren said. ‘You’ve come far, Master Lim. Was there not an envoy from Manhao just in your city? Is it one of those officials you wish to see?’
Lim cursed the man for not being stupider but was distracted by thought of those officials; especially the captain, who thought himself worthy of harassing a prince.
Seeking to give himself a moment to calm, Lim looked over his shoulder to where the gelding nuzzled its way through the grass at the edge of the path.
The saddlebag, with its precious cargo, was exactly where he’d left it.
‘No. I do not wish to see any of those men again, if it can be helped.’ The wind brought the river to them; earthy and holding a hint of mustiness.
‘Then it must be His Royal Highness, the Prince Xian, that you are seeking? Why is it you did not travel with him? I understand the poor man arrived without a single attendant from Kunming, most unusual.’ Ren did not make the statement accusatory, and the way he watched Lim was with a certain, unexpected sympathy.
‘I was not ordered to…no one was.’ He chewed his lip. ‘You seem very well informed, Master Ren.’
‘Much news travels down the Red River, even from those cities that are far from it’s banks.
The stories say that he is treated little better than a servant at the Governor’s Manor, kept hidden away mostly, and when he appears he is veiled so heavily none can be sure who actually lies beneath.
Some speculate that Prince Xian did not survive the fire that took his mother, after all. ’
‘Of course he did,’ Lim snapped, and Ren inclined his head, offering a silent apology. ‘I hope you are above spreading such horse shit. Xian survived that terrible day, and many more since.’
‘I tell no tales, Master Lim. I assure you, I know what it is to be spoken of in whispers, and sometimes shouts.’ He regarded Lim solemnly, and it was impossible to hold on to a temper under such gentle and obvious empathy.
‘He’s not treated well in Kunming, it is a disgrace,’ Lim said.
He’d not meant to say so much, or anything at all, but what harm in this man knowing the truth?
Ren could counter the vile lies that came in off the river.
‘His Highness never utters a cruel word of anyone. He is a strong man, and a gentle man too. A true survivor, who has endured his hardships with great dignity. Make sure you tell the gossips that when next they fill your ear with swill.’
Ren picked up another of the lotus pods. ‘I shall do so, happily, Master Song. It was a terrible affair, wasn’t it? The fire…his mother’s death.’
‘I know little of it,’ Lim admitted. ‘I was young myself when it happened…and have little interest in Imperial rumour.’
Master Ren nodded. ‘Sorcery was blamed, with talk of Consort Keshun’s own magick being to blame, that she worked on a talisman to bring down her court rivals only to lose control and the fire was started. But any decent person alive could see her death came from simple jealousy and avarice.’
‘You are saying the fire was set by her enemies?’
‘I’m saying only what the river tells me.
’ Water ran between his fingers where he cupped one of the lotus pods; as though the river itself was held in the palm of his hands.
‘Noble Consort Jing has gained much status, since Xian’s mother’s death.
Much more, it is said, than she would have otherwise. ’
Lim swallowed against the sudden dangerous turn in conversation. ‘I am not here to speculate on such things. The Imperial Palace is no place I ever wish to set foot in. Your words only make me more determined on that.’
‘Wise and handsome, very good, Master Song.’
Lim grumbled at the ground, scuffing his toe at a stone. ‘Don’t know about that.’
‘He is your friend, the prince.’
A statement, not a question. One that caught Lim off-guard. ‘I have met him only briefly, when he needed the help of a shoemaker.’
‘Is that what he needs now? Master Chen might take exception to being usurped,’ he laughed.
‘Master Chen?’
‘Mandarin Feng’s esteemed shoemaker. Are we to see a battle between two craftsmen to win the right to touch Prince Xian’s feet?
’ His goading held no malice, his smile a true one.
There was something calming about his fellow; something that had Lim wanting to sit down over that offered bowl of abalone soup and tell him he’d ridden hundreds of miles, simply because he couldn’t get Xian out of his thoughts, that he hated the idea of the grieving prince being so far away, and so alone, with his sorrow.
That he carried a slipper that wanted him to be here.
Lim exhaled. ‘There’ll be no battle, I assure you,’ he said. ‘I’m not here on any official business…and I’m not certain I’d be warmly welcomed even if I was…’ He stopped, uncertain if he’d said too much, or not enough.
Ren walked towards him, carrying a single lotus pod. His gaze fixed on something beyond Lim’s shoulder.
‘A fine animal,’ he said.
Lim turned, and cursed loudly on finding the gelding loose, standing in the fenced of area of grass.
‘How did he get there?’ Lim bent and slipped through the wide gap between the bamboo poles. ‘Come here, Longma. That’s not for you.’
‘Don’t worry, Master Lim, the grass shall grow readily enough.
’ He untied the rope around the topmost pole and set its end down on the ground, creating a decent gap through which Lim led the reluctant horse.
‘There is much better in my stables, I promise you, noble Longma.’ Ren brushed his hand along the horse’s neck, the animal’s head dropping low with pleasure.
‘I make a chaff, mixed with seaweed which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.
And the water is the finest and purest you’ll find anywhere in the Middle Kingdom, I make sure of it. ’
‘Thank you, Master Ren.’ Lim bowed his head. ‘He’s served me well, and I appreciate you taking him in.’
Ren acknowledged Lim’s comment with a murmur, his hand moving over the animal’s shoulder, skipping the saddle, before resting on the saddlebag attached at the rear.
Perhaps Lim’s tired mind teased him, but he was certain he noted a shiver run through the man when he touched the pouch where the slipper lay.
Master Ren looked to Lim; grey eyes pale as ash on snow. ‘This is indeed a noble quest you are upon.’
Lim shifted, disconcerted by the man’s gaze. ‘Hardly a quest, or particularly noble.’
‘But you are returning what was lost, and what is precious to it’s rightful owner. I think that is very noble.’
Lim jolted, as though he’d just been struck. He’d not spoken of returning any item.
‘What did you just say?’
‘It’s alright, Master Song. You are among friends here.’
The gelding turned its head and nuzzled the farmer’s long braid; causing it to sway.
Leaving behind the darkened pattern of dripping water in the dirt at his feet.
‘Best we do not keep his highness waiting.’ Ren took his hand from the saddlebag.
‘Let me look after Longma for you, and you get along. I expect Prince Xian will be very pleased to see you and your shoe.’
Lim stepped back. ‘How could you know of the shoe?’
Ren shrugged, smiling at Longma, who now nuzzled at his chest. ‘I felt it beneath the leather.’
Hardly a convincing reply; the leather was stiff, and the shoe wrapped well. Lim frowned. ‘Even if you had, its hardly odd for a shoemaker to have a shoe in his saddle bag. Why do you assume it is what I brought for the prince.’
Ren grimaced. ‘If I tell you that the slipper told me, would you think me mad…or would you look at me like you do now…like someone who knows it is not so hard to believe because they already understand the enchantment they carry?’
‘I don’t understand it at all,’ Lim blustered. ‘Who are you…’
‘A friend, who wishes no harm. You know that, do you not? That you are safe. Look at your fine horse,’ he laughed, and Lim fumed at how likeable the sound was. ‘He does not seem to mind me.’
‘I’ll not judge things on the whim of a thick-headed animal with no balls.’
Ren burst out laughing, and even the suddenness of the sound did not cause Longma to startle; the stupid animal looked near to love-struck by the man.