Page 57 of The Cinders
Ren patted the gelding once more, then stepped away, moving towards the buckets of lotus pods.His braid swayed against his back, and the spill of water from its tip, like the ink dripping from a calligrapher’s brush, was undeniable.
‘It is not entirely my idea, the notion comes from the lady carp, and I am happy to assist.’
Lim spat out the last of his lotus pod.‘A carp?’
Ren spent too long running his finger over the edge of one of the buckets.Lim was ready to shake him by the shoulders and demand a reply when he finally spoke.
‘Come now, Master Song,’ he said, soft as spring showers.‘You are the shoe’s creator, you would have noticed the first change in your work.Some hint that they had become enchanted?’
‘Enchanted?No…’ Lim said, with a pathetic weakness.
Of course, he’d known from the moment he’d taken the shoe from the pond that his design had changed.Of course he’d noted the scales.But what, in the heavenly name of the gods, was a simple man such as himself, supposed to do with such findings?
Longma flicked his tail, catching at Lim’s cheek, snapping him from his thoughts.
‘Come now, good man.I have frightened you.’He glanced up to find Ren standing close, holding out a bucket, this one filled with the seeds alone, their green skins already removed.‘Take these, tell the guards at the gate that you deliver them on my behalf, Master Ren, and you’ll have no trouble.’
‘I know your name.’But that was all Lim knew.He could barely fathom how much more there was to know of this strange, unearthly man.‘But I do not know if I should trust you.’
‘Then the slipper shall decide for you.Now go on.’The man smiled like a god of good fortune.‘ And if anyone steps in your way, offer them a lotus seed.Remember that, won’t you?’
The rattle of an approaching cart disturbed the heavy quiet that lay between Lim and the farmer.
‘We’re early, we know,’ a man in the cart bellowed.‘But they are anxious in the kitchens for your oysters and abalone.’
Ren let go of the bucket and stepped around Lim, calling out to the men.‘Well, we cannot have an anxious kitchen on the cusp of New Year’s Eve.Head around to the warehouse, you know your way.’
There were calls of thanks and promises of special gifts for the farmer as the cart rattled down the path towards them.
‘I really must go,’ Ren said.‘I hope we meet again, and that you have pleasing news to tell.’
Lim was eager to leave, but he hesitated as Ren bid his goodbyes.‘How did you know of the carp?’
‘Are you sure you wish to know?’
‘Tell me.
‘Very well.You seem a hale man.Valiant, too.A wise choice on her behalf, I would say.’
‘No more riddles.Tell me of the carp.’
Ren wiped at his trousers; the watermark spread wider, and the fabric clung to his slight figure.‘She is a guardian, a watchful ghost.A testament to the bond between mother and child.And now it falls to the living, to keep her son from a life among the cinders.’
Longma snorted, tossing his head, the horse shifting its bulk to move in between Lim and Ren.By the time Lim had given the gelding a decent shove to move him aside, the strange man with the dripping hair and astonishing words was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SONG LIMstood amongst a jostling throng of merchants and servants, all waiting impatiently for their turn to be admitted to the Mandarin’s residence…or rather, Feng’s palace.Lim discovered that the audacious man had given his residence a prestigious name it had no right to.The Palace of Endless Prosperity.
He’d nearly laughed up the lotus seeds he’d eaten when first he’d heard it spoken within the crowd; the ruler of this small port town thought himself the emperor of his domain.
Beside Lim stood a stout man with a long, thin beard.He held bright red and gold bolts of material bundled beneath one arm, a small birdcage dangling from his free hand; the winged prisoner a brightly coloured creature with a rounded beak of yellow and eyes the colour of fire.The bird squawked at those who poked their fingers through the bars, whilst its owner crowed just as loudly.
‘This bird is bound for the Mandarin’s collection,’ the man declared, his thin beard tilting in the breeze.‘A ship’s captain from Portugal heard me speaking of the wonder of the Palace of Endless Prosperity in the tavern.I told him of the glories within, the sumptuous feasts, and incomparable gardens, and he insisted I bring this bird on his behalf, seeking favour when they are next in port.’
‘Ha!’A nearby man who smelled of leather retorted.‘Kunming sent him a prince, his lordship won’t care for that bird.’
‘Well, this bird is prettier than the prince,’ sniffed the bearded man.‘I’m told he’s monstrous to look at.’