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Fate's Attendant 1.36
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 21:51:06 +0000 UTCFrom the Wing Span Bridge, Hong Fei and Auntie Ling saw how the Tistkil River pressed the city walls. The stone obstruction funneled the flood waters toward the barred gap that was the river’s normal exit from the city, as well as the main gate doors, which were left open to help the water drain. The current looked fast enough to pull a man from his feet. Auntie Ling could likely manage it, but Hong Fei preferred to not take his chances.
There was a second, auxiliary gate in the middle city meant for travel to the local mountain villages. Supposedly, a path also ran along the top of the gorge, paralleling the road below—at least partially. Hong Fei hadn’t seen signs of it on his journey to Ruby Swift City except for the shoddy stairs he’d once used to go from the top of the gorge to the road below. Likely, if he’d continued on instead, he would eventually come across it, assuming he survived the trek through the wilderness.
Foresters and wood cutters queued to leave through the middle gate, as did concerned residents intending to check on their relatives in the nearby villages. Hong Fei and Auntie Ling jogged past them. The giant badger was a clear marker of Hong Fei’s identity, but rules were rules, and the shízhǎng on duty asked to see Hong Fei’s badge of office before letting them through.
Outside, the trees had been cleared to a distance of half a li, and there were prints left by many riders departing in a hurry on all the paths including one paralleling the main road below. That nameless track was wide enough for five men to walk shoulder to shoulder. Or one man and a giant badger.
Entering the forest, the track narrowed as the trees closed in on it, forcing the path to hug the gorge’s edge. Auntie Ling nudged Hong Fei with her snout, and he let her go ahead of him. The storm could’ve undermined the path’s integrity, and if it held her weight, it’d ought to be safe for him, too.
They continued that way for approximately three li before the path disappeared over the side of the cliff. At some point in the past, the rock had given way and taken the path with it. A Yu soldier stood at its terminus, holding the reins of a pair of horses and whispering to keep them calm. The mounts didn’t like being hemmed in between the trees and the drop over the side.
Auntie Ling felt Hong Fei’s hand on her body. The gesture meant she should stop, then he pointed for her to quietly enter into the trees before the horses saw or smelled her. If the mounts panicked, at least one would lose its footing and fall. Perhaps both.
The soldier nodded to Hong Fei in gratitude. His own panic eased as the dūtóu and the spirit beast disappeared into the wilderness. If the horses had fallen, they would’ve taken him with them.
Auntie Ling broke trail for Hong Fei. A machete was among his supplies, which he used liberally on the bushes and branches that withstood her passage through them. As they circled around where the horses waited, he found the boot prints of the other rider. That person appeared to be moving in an arc, searching for evidence of Yu Yong having traveled that way.
The effort wasn’t a bad one in Hong Fei’s estimation. It meant Chen Wenbin was casting a wide net in addition to sending people to where the Young Master had undergone his wilderness training.
###
The sun rose in earnest and the temperature with it, transforming the water lingering along the forest’s limbs into humidity. Hong Fei’s arm burned with the effort of swinging the machete. Sweat poured down his face and soaked his clothes, sticking them to him.
Despite the heat, the ground remained muddy and soft, so that every part of Hong Fei struggled. Even Auntie Ling huffed in annoyance whenever her paws slipped.
Still, they made decent time—traveling approximately two li for every handspan of the sun. They’d passed several of the emergency stairways as they’d traveled, but there’d been no signs of use.
Eventually, Hong Fei reached the point where he found it inconceivable that Yu Yong would’ve made it that far—not at night and during severe weather. Such conditions would’ve tested even the scouts of the dūtóu’s former troop.
Frowning in thought, Hong Fei glanced over the cliff. They’d passed a pair of tributaries to the Tistkil earlier, so the road continued to be underwater. Had the Young Master attempted to outrun the flood and then been washed away?
The prospect didn’t bode well. If Yu Yong was dead, then only Yu Ning would remain as a potential inheritor. The old ducal family was at the brink of dissolution.
Another set of emergency stairs lay half a li ahead. Hong Fei nudged Auntie Ling onward. It looked vaguely familiar at a distance, but as they came closer, he decided they were not the stairs he’d used before. Those must be farther on.
Auntie Ling and he circled the area, but they didn’t find any signs of passage nearby. Hong Fei went down the stairs, but there was only the Tistkil River rushing past, the water muddy and carrying debris swept up by the storm.
Back at the top of the cliff, Hong Fei rubbed Auntie’s Ling’s head. “It’s no good, I’m afraid. Hopefully, Chen Wenbin had better luck.”
The giant badger shrugged in reply. She bumped him with her snout to indicate who really mattered in the grand sum of things in the world.
Hong Fei shook his head, though he also smiled. “Everything’s connected,” he said. “The Dao teaches us that. The things that hurt the Yu family, hurt us too.”
Auntie Ling gestured toward the road below, in the direction of the sea.
“Mmm. We could leave,” Hong Fei said, “but if given a choice, I’d prefer to be loyal. It’s silly after everything that’s happened to me, but old habits are…” He paused to sigh. “I don’t want them to be meaningless.”
The giant badger sighed after him, and then nodded. Hong Fei was mindful that she’d heard his stories to the youth and seen and heard him during the moments when the courtyard was empty. She would make a good confident, he realized. No one would think to interrogate a giant badger for his secrets.
###
On the way back to Ruby Swift City, they paused at each of the emergency stairs again to make sure they hadn’t missed anything the first time through. Then, at about the time when the sun was only a few handspans from setting, Hong Fei spotted a snake swimming vigorously in the river near the bottom of a stairway.
As he watched it, his heart began to sink. “Stay here,” he said before approaching and taking the steps carefully down, a hand on the cliffside to steady himself. The closer he came, however, the more upset he was.
He’d had a suspicion, and it was confirmed when he saw the snake was actually a leather cord tied to an iron spike at the bottom; the other end floated freely in the rushing water. It must’ve been submerged his first time through, then came to the surface over the course of the day.
Hong Fei reeled in the cord. It was a leather strap with the same style of stitching as used by the Yu household for its horses. Someone had tied their mount to the bottom of the stairs, and the cord had snapped, either from the horse’s distress as the flood waters rose or the river carrying it away.
Hong Fei stared at the broken leather, then he took the time to undo the knot and store it in his pack. If Yu Yong was eventually found alive, he promised himself he would whip the youth with it. Damn the xiàowèi and the steward and anyone else who might object. The boy would suffer the consequences of losing his mount with such… such callousness.
###
Auntie Ling took a step back when Hong Fei crested the stairs. There was a wildness in his eyes she recognized from the times she’d seen him awake from his nightmares. She thought he might charge into the trees.
“It’s likely him,” he said, the tone of his voice flat and at odds with the glower on his face. “We’ll search for his trail in arcs until we find it.”
She nodded to indicate she’d understood him, then turned to lead the way into the trees. They went a fair way into the brush before finding a broken branch. One side had been sheared cleanly, as if with a qi-infused claw, but the cut didn’t extend all the way through. The frayed connection would’ve moved the branch aside without severing it completely.
It was sloppy, Auntie Ling thought. When cutting down, cut down. She looked to her summoner and saw he was of a similar opinion. The frown on his face deepened.
“He’s alive, at least. Or was until this point.” Hong Fei knelt to examine the ground. “No footprints, but that’s to be expected after the storm.” He looked to Auntie Ling. “Do you smell anything?”
She shook her head in response. Her nose was good, but not that good. They’d have to depend on their eyes for the time being. Fortunately, the Yu boy had left a trail of broken branches behind him, as if suddenly realizing he could cut his way through the brush.
Auntie Ling smelled a hint of the sap atop the forest’s other myriad scents. Her ears swiveled to track the discordant noises coming from all around. They weren’t the only ones moving through the forest, though she had yet to catch sound of anything large.
She shouldered way through the brush, hunting the boy for the summoner behind her. The trail dipped and rose and led to a small pool of water. One side had collapsed, leaving two furrows along the edge. She’d seen the like before; it was a pair of human feet slipping.
“That’s him,” Hong Fei said after coming around to examine them.
Auntie Ling continued onward. The trail led to a large tree with branches that both swept out from the trunk and draped down around it in mass of rope-like pillars, some falling straight and others intertwined.
The Yu boy had cut his way to the trunk, to a knot of roots he might’ve used to sit and rest above the water flowing down the mountainside. Hong Fei must’ve had the same thought, because he sat himself in the same place.
He reached around as if fiddling with gear or weapons. Then, reaching up, he found a series of small nails driven into the trunk. A moment later, Hong Fei picked a stray thread from one and placed it in his mouth.
“Oiled,” he said. “Yu Yong took shelter here. Would’ve stayed until morning at least.”
Auntie Ling nosed around the area and noted the faint scent of human piss close by. She went out from under the tree the same way she’d come in, then followed the smell, going around a bramble, to a patch of rocky ground. The scent was stronger there.
Hong Fei knelt to touch the rock and placed his fingers under his nose. He glanced at nearby greenery and noticed, like Auntie Ling, that there were no broken branches.
“The storm passed, and daylight meant he could choose an easier path than cutting his way through. Let’s go to where the gaps are widest. If there’s a game trail, we’ll follow it.”
Auntie Ling nodded. She focused on her summoner’s request and, with a huff, cleared her mind of distractions. She studiously ignored the sense of chasing down fleeing prey.
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Characters Mentioned in this Chapter
Auntie Ling, a summons
Scholar Sun Han, a summons
Chen Wenbin, xiàowèi of the Yu household
Yu Ning, granddaughter to Duke and Duchess Yu
Yu Yong, grandson to Duke and Duchess Yu
Yu Wu, the duke
Comments
Tijay Arnie
I mean reckless teenagers *sometimes* grow up, yanno
TheLunaticCo
Is it bad that I kind of hope the idiot is dead? Or at least injured enough to be irrelevant to the story? I've always despised reckless teenagers in books. I never encountered them growing up so it's hard for me to see them as anything but unrealistically stupid.
Stephen Pearson
Thanks for the chapter! :-)
