Chapter 29
Sheiji had little trouble on his long ride. His peasant’s disguise worked well and he was challenged only once by a man looking to buy his horse. He knew his horse had good stamina and could run long distances. Still, Sheiji forced himself to stop and rest often so as not to tire it too quickly.
When he reached the gates of the city, Sheiji had to dismount and walk his horse. A steady flow of foot traffic filed through the gates at an extremely slow pace. Sheiji wondered what was happening. As he stood in line, he began to grow impatient. Fa-Ying was to be executed in just over an hour. Finally, though, he reached the gate.
“Fine horse,” Sheiji heard a guard whisper.
“Shabby boy. Too fine a horse for him,” the other guard replied. “Check him.”
The first guard reached out and took hold of Sheiji’s arm, pulling him close. Sheiji struggled in a panic to get out of the guard’s grasp, but the guard was strong. The second guard pulled off Sheiji’s turban and then looked him up and down.
“Where are you going?” the second guard asked.
“To Taiyunyi.”
“Why?” the guard asked.
“Business.”
“What kind of business?” The guard asked. When Sheiji didn’t answer, the first guard twisted Sheiji’s arm behind his back so that Sheiji gasped in pain. “What business?” the guard repeated.
“Visiting friends,” Sheiji gasped out.
The guard narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but continued his interrogation, “Where did you come from?”
“I was born in Taiyunyi.”
“But where have you been?” the guard demanded further.
“In a city.”
The first guard again twisted Sheiji’s arm and growled, “Cooperate or you’ll be sorry. I could break your arm as easily as a twig if I wanted to.”
“Where have you been?”
“Isaakin,” Sheiji randomly picked a city that he had visited with Suyo.
“What were you doing there?” asked the guard.
“Looking for work,” Sheiji replied.
“What type of work do you do?”
“Anything someone will hire me for.”
“Who is your father?” the guard asked.
“I’m an orphan.”
“Where did you get that horse?”
Sheiji’s mind raced, “It’s mine!”
“Where is your loyalty?”
“What?” Sheiji asked.
“Who is rightly King of Imatsuro?” the guard clarified.
“Sui-Tsai is king,” Sheiji avoided answering directly.
“But who is the rightful king, Sui-Tsai or Sheiji-Yueng?”
“Everyone knows Sheiji is dead,” Sheiji again avoided the question.
“So if anyone claims to be Sheiji-Yueng, he is an impostor?” the guard asked.
Sheiji let his body go limp. The guard, surprised at the sudden weight hanging from his hand, let go. Sheiji dropped to the ground. He rolled as he did so and jumped up a few feet away. Then he took off running as fast as he could through the streets. It was a trick Suyo had taught him and it had come in handy more than once when he was caught for stealing. Now he put to use all his street senses in escaping from the guards.
The two guards called the alarm and soon there were a dozen soldiers chasing Sheiji through the crowds. Several townsmen joined the chase as well. Sheiji told himself that he was only running from those who wanted to catch him for stealing. If he thought of the true reason, he wouldn’t have been able to run from his pursuers. Too much hung on his escape.
Sheiji’s nimbleness and ability to penetrate dense crowds at a quick speed was in his favor, as it had been in his street days. The guards dropped further and further behind. At last he could no longer hear their shouts and the sound of their sandals on the rough stone streets. He stopped to get his breath.
Taiyunyi was an unfamiliar city, despite the fact that Sheiji had looked out over it daily for as long as he could remember. He had never been in the streets except in a closely guarded and curtained sedan chair. Thus, he had to discover for himself a good place to rest. He slipped into an alleyway and ducked behind a large pile of garbage.
When his breathing returned to normal, he ventured out of his sheltered hiding place. He found a merchant, selling silk scarves. “Sir, could you help me?” Sheiji asked.
“What is it, boy?” the silk merchant replied warily, but not unkindly.
“I was wondering if you knew where the public execution is to take place?”
“Don’t know of any execution, boy,” the merchant replied. He rubbed his chin. “And I would know if there was one. Might it be a private execution?”
“No, he said public,” Sheiji replied firmly.
“Who?”
“A friend of mine,” Sheiji answered.
“Who are you so eager to see executed?” the merchant asked.
“I’m not eager to see him die. I’m trying to save him!” Sheiji replied. “His name is Fa-Ying.”
“Why that’s—,” the silk merchant cleared his throat as if he regretted what he had been about to say. “Surely he is not being executed.”
“It’s what my friend told me,” Sheiji replied. He toyed with two of the scarves, one white and one purple.
“Maybe your friend’s information wasn’t correct,” the merchant replied, taking a sudden interest in Sheiji’s choice of colors. “Why do you want to save a convicted criminal?”
“He’s not a criminal, exactly.”
“Might I interest you in that purple scarf you have there?”
“No. I would take the white one if I had any money,” Sheiji replied casually, a white scarf worked interchangeably with the dangerous lotus in this case. “Tell me, do you sell many white scarves?”
“Not many people wear white scarves anymore,” the merchant replied without looking at Sheiji. “But more people like them than will admit it.” Which was to say that many were secretly loyal to Sheiji.
“Which do you prefer?”
“The white, of course,” the silk merchant replied daringly.
Sheiji smiled, “So you think Fa-Ying will not be executed today, then?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I received a very special white scarf some time ago; very special indeed. It is safely stored away.”
“Indeed?” Sheiji asked, comprehending the merchant’s meaning. Fa-Ying was safely hidden by this merchant.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Sheiji replied. “I may be back to purchase a white scarf. Keep that special scarf safe.” Sheiji smiled and ran off down the street.
So the messenger had lied. It had all been a trap to get Sheiji to Taiyunyi so they could arrest him. And they almost had. Sheiji recalled that he had not spoken the signal or seen the lotus charm when the messenger arrived. He had been so weary that he had forgotten. Now he was alone in a strange city with no way of getting a message to his army. And the guards knew he was somewhere in Taiyunyi. They would not rest until he was found.
That night, as Sheiji lay trying to find a comfortable spot in the pavement, he thought once again about Suyo. It seemed that everything reminded him of the street boy—or rather, street girl. During the past two weeks, the loneliness had settled to a dull ache, but it was always present. He could not make it go away.
For the thousandth time, he wondered what Suyo was doing. Had she found a warm, dry place for the night or was she out in the open without a blanket? Had she eaten that night? Was she locked up in some prison for stealing food to survive? What city was she in now? Was she missing him like he was missing her? Sheiji knew it was foolish to worry about her safety. She had lived her entire life on the street and could survive even the most difficult living conditions, but somehow the fact that she was a girl and not a boy made her seem more vulnerable and helpless. Sheiji wondered if she was still mad at him for not telling her that he was a prince.
Somewhere nearby,
a dog barked, interrupting Sheiji’s thoughts. The noise made the silence even more unbearable and the darkness pressed in on him from all sides. He longed for a fire to warm him and make a little light, but it would be too dangerous. He could not afford to draw attention to himself.
Sheiji finally fell into a weary sleep and did not see the shadowy figure lie down several feet away from him.