罪有应得
Zuì yǒu yīng dé
One deserves one's punishment.
The punishment fits the crime.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Despite his flirtatious invitation Sanli and I only made it as far as the bearskin rug, where we sat before the fire, playing with the same deck of five color cards we had used in the cave all those months ago. I recognized the dog eared corners, and the splatter of vine wine on one card.

"Ugh, you are a cheat!" I yelled, as Sanli won for what seemed the ten thousandth time. I threw down my cards in disgust as the prince laughed at my frustration.

Kageyama reappeared through the door, a servant carrying a tray walking before him. The man placed the tray on the table and then hurriedly departed, Kageyama's watchful eyes following his every movement.

I sprang up from the rug and rushed to the table. "Food at last! I am starving."

The food on the tray was humble fair, five rolls of hard bread and four bowls of lumpy stew, the ingredients unidentifiable. But I was too hungry and tired of eating game to be deterred.

Kageyama slapped my hand away as I reached for a roll. "Wait. I haven't tested it yet."

I sighed in exasperation. "There is not much here. Surely you don't mean to try everything for poison? If you do, there will be nothing left."

Kageyama ignored me, and instead lifted his hand to the air. One of his knives appeared in it, one I had not seen before. It was a short blade no longer than my index finger, the handle simple black leather with a ribbon of olive colored silk wound round it.

I expected the kitsune to place the blade in the stew, similar to how I had seen silver sticks used for detecting poison in food. But to my surprise he simply lay the blade of his knife against the rim of each bowl. There was a faint clink as the metal met porcelain. Then finally a clank as Kageyama laid his knife on the tin plate on which the bread sat.

"The food is safe to eat," the kitsune said at last. Then he also touched the knife against the lip of the water jug and all the cups that had been provided.

"How many of those knives do you have exactly?" I asked, propping my chin on my hands as I watched him. My hunger was momentarily forgotten in my interest.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'll tell you how many he has Ao, if you beat me," called Sanli from the bear rug where he still sat, the cards from our last game scattered before him.

"Don't you dare," said Kageyama, finishing testing the water cups and moving on to the forks and knives.

Sanli laughed. "Don't worry Sho Sensei. She'll never beat me."

"That's because you cheat!" I said, rounding on him.

"Oh I do?" said Sanli slyly. "Come prove it then."

I lost two more games before Zakhar returned and we stopped playing to eat.

The four of us took our plates and forwent eating at the table to sit on the bearskin before the fire. It was reminiscent of our road here, when all our meals had been beside a campfire.

The food portions were small, and after finishing I found myself eyeing the additional roll left behind on the plate.

"Not a chance," said Kageyama, taking the roll and passing it to Sanli before I could grab it. "They didn't even want to give a serving of stew for you, 'page'. I had to convince the kitchen staff the fourth bowl was for Prince Sanli to eat as well."

I scowled.

Sanli caught my eye, and winked. When Kageyama left to summon the servant to clear our plates, the prince swiftly slipped me the roll.

I grinned, and was about to shove it into my mouth when Zakhar's stomach rumbled beside me.

I glanced at the large man. He had had the same size portion as the rest of us, despite being twice any of our size. Of course he would still be hungry.

I held the roll out to him.

Zakhar shook his head. "It's alright Ao. You eat it. Quick, before Kageyama comes back."

"I don't particularly want it," I lied. "It is too hard. I worry about damaging my teeth."

"Soak it in water," Zakhar offered.

"I do not like soggy bread," I said. Zakhar's stomach growled again, and he eyed the roll.

"I'll take it back if you do not want it Ao," said Sanli, reaching out.

Zakhar laughed, and took the roll from my hand before Sanli could.

"Too late prince," he said, teeth sinking into the hard crust with a cracking crunch.

After Kageyama returned and the plates had been cleared and taken away, we played with the five color cards for a time.

"At least let me win once!" I said in exasperation. But Sanli ignored me, and proceeded to win the next three games.

I think he was mad I had given the roll to Zakhar. So petty.

At last, when the fire had died low, Kageyama stood.

"We should turn in," the kitsune said, after checking to make sure the large iron bolt of the door was drawn. "We need to leave early tomorrow."

"I will sleep here," I said, yawning and stretching out on the large bearskin by the fire. "Zakhar, can you hand me your bearskin?"

Zakhar grabbed the smaller skin, which had been warming on a rack by the fire, then passed it to me. I curled up underneath it, bear above and below me, the smell of warm fur filling my nose, the fire cracking just beside me. Outside, beyond the thick stone walls of the fortress, the ever present wind howled, but it was muted now, compared to on the plains. A wild animal that raged without consequence.

Safe and warm, the distant murmur of the men's voices as they settled for the night in my ears, I fell into a deep sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*

When I woke I thought at first it was the wind that had roused me. It howled outside, angry at being ignored. But that was not it.

I heard the sound of Zakhar's soft snores, from the room beside. But no, I had grown used to that sound on the trip, and if anything I now found the soft rumbling Zakhar made in his sleep comforting.

Finally I heard another rumble, from below the bearskin. My stomach. That was what had woken me.

I closed my eyes, and willed myself back to sleep beneath my warm furs.

After a little while I cursed and sat up. I knew it would not be able to sleep again, hungry as I was. My stomach was a knot, twisting tighter every time I started to drift off.

I rose, bearskin around my shoulders, and went to the window. The sky was clear for a change, and in the light of the stars I could see the town of Changsha, black on the bay-blue of the night plains. A single light shone from the town.

On either side of the valley peaks rose, dark black, cutting into the night sky toward the stars.

The wind howled and whipped across the bleak view, but there was nothing in sight to show its direction, no trees, no pennants or flags on the walls of the fortress or the tops of the town's gables below.

An angry, ceaseless, chaotic wind.

My stomach rumbled once more, equally angry. I knew I would not be able to sleep without eating something.

Beside the window, in the bed, I heard the soft sounds of Sanli sleeping. His breath had grown familiar to me now, just as Zakhar's had.

The fire had died, and the room cooled considerably. When I returned, I would slip into bed with the prince. I lay the bearskin about my shoulders on the bed in preparation. Then, pulling on my sheepskin boots, I unlocked the door softly and went in search of something to eat.

The halls were dark. The torches that had lit them earlier had been extinguished, but their burnt piney smell still lingered. I put out a hand to the cold stone wall and used it to guide me through the dim hall.

At the end of the hall I slowed, carefully feeling for the stairs. The hall had light, coming from beneath the doors, but the stone staircase was pitch black, a vortex spiraling down into darkness.

Carefully, I found the steps, and slowly, feeling them with my feet one at a time, made my way down them.

At the base I found myself in the hall we had first entered by. I knew that for a fortress this size the kitchen would be big, and most likely on the ground floor somewhere.

I made my way back down the hall, and sure enough, the first arch I came to on my left opened into a large space filled with tables and huge hearths over which roasting spits stretched. The kitchen.

There was no one in the room, and I immediately began seeking out food. I went first to the hearths. It looked like all but one had been out of use for some time. In the final hearth grease gleamed fresh on the spit, but whatever had been cooked here was gone.

I turned to the cupboards.

They were filled with bowls for mixing and plates for serving, and all manner of cutlery and other cooking tools. But there was nothing to eat.

Frowning, I put my hands on my hips and looked around. I had never been in a kitchen so devoid of food.

A sudden snorting sound startled me. I turned.

I had thought the room empty. But that was because I had not realized the blanket covered lump on one side of the room was human. An old man, in soldier's uniform, sat precariously perched on a wooden chair tipped back against the wall. He had a thick white beard that hid his chin and neck, making it appear as if his head simply sprouted from the blankets swathed around his rotund frame.

As I watched, the man gave another snort, smacking his lips in his sleep.

I ducked behind a table, but when it became apparent the man would not wake I stood.

I realized why there was no food in the kitchen. Behind the sleeping man, there was a door, most likely to a pantry. The old soldier was on guard duty.

Tch. This would make my pursuit of a midnight snack more difficult. And more criminal. Grabbing an extra roll from a kitchen counter was one thing. Taking food from behind a guarded door was another.

Still... I was with the prince. Technically, everything in this Kingdom is his. And I know Sanli would not begrudge me a slice of bread to help me sleep.

Thinking this thought, I tiptoed toward the door and the guard beside it.

When I came close I saw to my relief that the pantry had no lock on it. The guard was also sat far enough away that I could open the door to permit myself entry.

I did so, and slipped inside.

I left the door open a crack to help light the inside. The small room was windowless. Zih had been carved in the ceiling for things such as freshness and to protect against rot, but the light they emitted was too faint to see by.

I quickly felt over the shelves, finding a basket of the hard rolls. I stuffed three into the front of my shirt, tucking them in the strips of binding that wound round my chest to keep it shapeless. I found a large cheese, and cut a slice of that as well. The cheese I stuffed into my mouth.

I was just turning back to the door, mouth full of cheese, and preparing to slip out, when I heard sounds from the kitchen, and a voice.

"Old man. Why is the door open?"

I froze, and swallowed my cheese. I knew the voice. It was Captain Duan. I recalled his face earlier, when he had laughed at the body on the ramparts.

I looked around for somewhere to hide. I saw a shadowy group of large barrels, standing beneath the bottom shelf at the back of the panty. Quickly I got on my hands and knees and crawled behind them, pressing myself to the cold stone wall and floor so as to fit completely behind the barrels.

Immediately, I felt foolish. Why had I hidden? I should have just come sauntering out of the pantry, roll in each hand, and let the Captain try what he would. After all, I was a prince's page. He could not touch me.

Still, as the man's boots appeared in the doorway, I felt relieved that I was out of sight.

"Were you sneaking food?" I heard the Captain ask.

"Of course not sir. You feed me plenty well. I know better than to do such a thing," the old guard replied in a nervous voice.

"Good. I'll just sneak my own food then, and be gone."

"Of course sir."

There was the sound of plates being shifted on the shelf, and Captain Duan's boots passed in and out of my line of vision as he moved about the pantry.

"I'm surprised there is anything left in here. I assumed our royal visitors would demand more than their fair share, as royals do," Captain Duan said.

"They ate the same dinner as the men, sir."

"How humble."

"Lord Kageyama insisted. In fact he watched the soup be ladled from the same pot as the rest of the men, and he chose the rolls himself," said the guard.

"Did he now? Wise fox," the captain said under his breath. He finished his rummaging, and returned to the door, his boots poised to go.

Suddenly he stopped. I heard him sniff the air.

"Do you smell... bear?"

"Bear, sir?"

"Aye. It smells like bear fur in here..."

"I don't sir... but it might be me."

"Might be. Take a bath sometime this week old man. You reek."

"Yes sir. Have a good night sir."

The door shut, and I was in complete darkness. I heard the sound of the captain's steel heeled boots ringing away across the flagstones of the kitchen and disappearing down the hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I hid in the pantry, my back growing colder and colder where it was pressed against the wall, waiting for my beating heart to calm.

I worried that the old guard might not go back to sleep, and I would be trapped, but presently snores came through the door that told me he had resumed his former state.

What a terrible guard.

I crept quietly to the door and opened it a crack. I waited for a moment, but the snores did not change, and I slipped out.

I crossed the kitchen on tiptoe, which was unnecessary as my soft boots made no sound. Still, I wanted to be careful, after my near encounter.

When I re-entered the hall, I first looked to the entrance, toward the direction I had heard the captain's boots disappearing to.

Seeing nothing, I turned to make my way back to the spiral staircase.

I ran into something hard, warm, and alive.

"I knew it wasn't a bear I smelled..." the captain spoke, from where he leaned against the wall, waiting.

I gasped and stepped back. Before I could step out of reach the man had grabbed my arm, twisted it, and forced me against the stone wall so hard the breath was knocked from my body.

The captain brought his face close to my own. "It was a mouse!" he laughed.

One of the rolls shove into my shirt came loose, and fell to the floor by my feet. Captain Duan picked it up and held it to my face, laughing as he brandished the evidence of my crime.

Cursing him, I tried to twist my head back, to bash my skull into the man's mocking face, but he grabbed my other arm, and pinned me harder against the wall.

"And what a bold little mouse it is," Captain Duan said, leaning down to speak against my ear. "Look at it, trying to bite the dog that's caught it. You know what we do with thieves, don't you, little mouse?"

"Let me go!" I struggled, my inability to free myself causing panic to rise in my chest. "I am the prince's servant. He will not stand for—"

The man pushed the back of my head, crushing my mouth to the stone to silence me.

"We hang them on the wall!" the captain snarled gleefully into my ear.

And then I was away from the stone, and being dragged backwards by my arms, staggering and stumbling and trying not to fall. The remaining rolls I had stuffed in my shirt fell uselessly to the ground.

I tasted blood in my mouth, from where my teeth had cut into my lip when my head had pushed against stone.

"Let go! Let go or I'll—" but before I could finish my threat Captain Duan's hand clamped over my mouth. I gnashed my teeth, but he cupped his hand, the flesh of his palm out of my reach.

I smelled cheese, and realized it was my own breath, trapped. I was suddenely reminded of the fat bandit in the cave, who had broken my ankle.

I started to thrash wildly.

It affected Captain Duan little. He had taken both of my wrists in one of his hands so as to cover my mouth. Now, he half dragged, half carried me to the stairs, humming all the while.

I let my feet go out from under me, hoping to weigh him down, and force him to drop me or rearrange his hold on me, but he did not slow. When we reached the stairs he simply began dragging me up them, my ankles and shins scraping painfully against the sharp stone of the steps. I lost one of my sheepskin boots, and heard it thump down the steps behind us.

Regretting giving up my feet, I tried to re-find them. Even with his superior strength, if I could just find the right angle, I could unbalance the man and overcome him.

Perhaps if I kicked off the stairs just right, I could send both of us tumbling back down the steep stair. It would be painful for me, but fatal for him. I just needed an opportunity...

As if realizing my thoughts, Captain Duan shifted me higher, so he was now carrying me on his hip. My feet kicked helplessly in the air, the stairs now out of reach. I yelled angrily against his hand, and thrashed, but it made no difference.

The man was too strong. He was not human. And I was. I was weak.

I was caught, and could not free myself. It reminded me of when Guang Han had grabbed me, and tried to drag me to his carriage.

I let out a frustrated scream against the man's cupped hand. The Captain simply began humming his tune louder. I recognized it as a cheerful children's song.

Then the captain stopped, and clamped me tighter to his side. We had reached a door at the top of the spiral staircase. I heard the wind roar beyond, and realized the door led out onto the battlements.

I prepared to scream my lungs out, thinking that captain would need to use a hand to push open the door, but instead he kicked it open and stepped into the dark night.

The wind cut into me. It felt as though needles of ice were hurtling through the air and lodging themselves in my skin. Had it finally begun snowing? But no, the night was clear and still. The bright stars looked down on all that happened below them indifferently.

I had thought the inside of the fortress cold. Now I realized I had already acclimated, and it was relatively warm inside compared to the freezing conditions outside. Almost immediately, the exposed skin of my hands and face started to sting and go numb.

Captain Duan let his hand fall from my mouth. I screamed my rage, and it was carried away by the wind.

"Now the question is, should I tie you up with my other friend here, or cut him down first?"

Disoriented, confused, I briefly wondered which friend he was talking of. Then the sick-sweet smell of rotting flesh reached my nose, and with horror I realized he meant the corpse.

*~*~*~*~*~*