冷若冰霜
Lěng ruò bīng shuāng
As cold as ice and frost.
(Usually said of women) To have an icy manner.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Finally I got the fire started. I drove sticks into the sandy cave floor close to the fire and spread our clothes out on them to dry.

Then, pulling on my still sodden cape, I left the cave to search for food and something to carry water to the prince in.

Sanli had taken it hard, the news of his seal missing. When I left, he was staring at the cave ceiling, lips pressed together.

I vowed to find him something good to eat, to take his mind from it.

As I searched along the river bank, I was surprised that I did not feel as cold as the day before. The sky still hung steel grey above, as though at any second snow would drop. There was a wind, faint, but filled with cold mountain air that brushed against my skin, bare beneath my fur cloak.

But I did not feel the cold as I had. I attributed that to Yan's seals. They were contrary, stubborn things. I could not control them, yet they worked when I needed them, to keep me alive. And right now, I needed warmth.

I made my way up the river gorge, searching for the things that would keep Sanli alive.

On either side of me, tall tan cliffs rose, too sheer to be climbed without rope and hook. I knew there was likely a track somewhere, used by animals to get the river for water, but I did not want to waste time searching for it now.

Instead, I searched among the rocks by the river side, clambering over smooth boulders as the river washed by on my right. I looked for a rock, a hollowed out log, a large leaf, anything that I could use to carry water to the prince with.

I found something even better.

"My canteen!" I cried, plunging my hand into the water to grab the item's strap and pulling it up from where it bobbed in the river. The thing was still intact.

Then I realized. It could not be my canteen. Mine was firmly tied to In'yii's saddle. It was the Sanli's canteen, which had been tied to his own saddle. It must have washed ashore here.

If the canteen had washed ashore, perhaps there were other items from the prince's saddle nearby...

A faint whinny reached my ears.

I froze. Then I clambered over the rocks toward the sound, already knowing what I would find.

Little Light lay in the shallows at the edge of the river, washed by the current to a slower part of the rapids much as I and the prince had been the day before. The horse's body was half in the water, half out, it's neck propped against a slanting rock.

As I moved around the horse, I saw the reason the animal had not pulled itself out of the river.

A hole gaped in Little Light's side, just below the saddle. The wound was too deep and severe to have been caused by the rapids. It seemed the poor animal had not been as fortunate as the prince and I, and had caught the cliff face or a rock when falling to the river.

Now, the hole in Little Light's side was being widened further by the gnawing teeth of a wood stoat.

"Get away!" I shouted, chasing the small animal. It turned a sharp pink-dyed muzzle toward me in a snarl, then scurried away over the rocks, a brown blur.

Little Light saw me and startled, lifting his neck. But he was too weak to do much else.

"I'm here. I'm here boy," I said, sliding my legs beneath the horse's head. Gently I stroked the beast's neck, making soothing sounds. Little Light whickered softly.

Closer, I saw that in addition to the wound in the horse's side, two of the gelding's legs were bent at acute angles. Angles from which there would be no recovery.

I bit my lip.

I had never much cared for Sanli's mount. The creature was skittish, and dependent, and had always disliked me. But no part of me would enjoy what I had to do next.

I withdrew Zakhar's blade from my boot.

The knife had one edge, and it was sharp. Made for skinning or slitting the throats of rabbits and other small game.

Little Light's throat was much bigger than a rabbit's, but it worked all the same.

The horse barely stirred as I put the knife to its purpose. I wondered if the sad creature knew I was delivering him from his pain. Or perhaps he was just too weak to move.

"I'm here boy, I'm here," I said softly. I set the knife aside, and gently ran my hands down the soft neck, giving reassuring pats. The horse whickered wetly. It's breathing slowed, till at last the broad dappled chest grew still.

I watched Little Light's blood run down the rock.  When it reached the river's edge, it swirled together with the clear water, currant colored ink in the rapids. Then it dissipated with the current, lost forever in the rush of the river.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I removed the horse's saddle and bridle before sliding the body into the water.

As I watched the grey gelding float downstream I felt regret. That much horse meat could have fed the prince and I for weeks. Months even, if the weather stayed cold enough and I could keep the animals away.

But I knew Sanli would never agree to it.

When I reached the cave I hid the bridle outside, behind a rock, before going in, dragging the saddle behind me.

"Look what I found, prince," I said.

"You found Little Light!" Sanli said, overjoyed.

"No," I said, not meeting the prince's eyes. "Just the saddle."

I set about opening the saddle bags, finding at last the item we needed more than anything else. The item that would keep Sanli alive.

A small copper pot, with a long wooden handle on one side.

I poured half the water from the canteen in the pot, then placed it over the fire. Then I moved to sit by Sanli, holding the canteen to his lips.

"Drink," I commanded.

Sanli obeyed, gulping down the water. "Thank you, Ao."

I nodded. "Can you sit up? I need to see your shoulder."

Sanli did so, the leaves falling aside and exposing his bare chest. I searched and found spare cloth and bandages in the saddle bags.

Unfortunately they were wet. I did not want to wait any longer to treat the prince's shoulder. I reached for my shirt instead, and cut a strip off the hem.

"It is too long anyway," I said when Sanli protested.

The water in the copper pot started to bubble and boil. I retrieved the final items I needed from the saddle bag. Needle, thread, and jar of the same green poultice that Sanli had spread on my back after my bout with Zhangyu.

"This will hurt, little prince," I warned.

Sanli sucked in a gasp as I pulled the second arrow head from his shoulder. A fresh stream of red ran from the wound, and I quickly cleaned it with a piece of cloth. Then I washed the wound with warm water, and applied the rest of the green poultice.

Finally I stuck the needle in the fire, before threading it.

"Don't move," I told him.

Sanli nodded resolutely, but still flinched and whimpered like a kicked dog when I poked the needle through his skin.

"Hold still," I ordered. I began to stitch up the arrow holes.

Sanli hissed and gripped his upper arm with his other hand to hold it in place. He bit his lip, white teeth sinking into the soft flesh. The pale skin of his chest grew red with the exertion of keeping himself from moving.

I pitied him. I myself had had injuries stitched too many times to count. I knew the needle often hurt worse than the wound it closed.

I pulled the final stitch tight. "All done," I said, running a finger around my work. I frowned. The skin was red and inflamed, and I did not think it was just from my needle.

"I do not like the color of this. I worry-" I stopped myself.

"You worry the arrow was poisoned?" asked Sanli. "Don't. I am resistant to most poisons."

"What?" I said surprised. "How?"

"My sister tried to kill me so many times as a child, Sho Sensei had a poison teller come and give me snake's draught. I am immune or resistant to most poisons."

I knew the potion he spoke of. I had taken it myself, once, long ago. It was agony, and the chances of success were just as great as the chances of failure.

The fox must have thought the prince's life was in grave danger indeed, to risk such an action.

I started to wrap Sanli's stitches with cloth. "Why did your sister try and kill you? And how was it she was never stopped, or held accountable for such things?"

Sanli shrugged. "She wanted me gone so Zhangyu could become the next regent, of course. The attempts were always untraceable, but even if they hadn't been, who would hold her accountable? No one beside Sho Sensei cared if I lived or died."

I shook my head, tasting the pain in his words, and knowing it was not just from the wounds I now banadaged. "Even if you were gone, her son would still not inherit the position. Xiangwu is the first prince."

Sanli said nothing for a moment. Then "I always thought it odd, how Xiangwu's wife died. She was fine and healthy one morning. Then by evening, she had a raging fever. She died the next day, and her daughter almost followed."

My blood ran with ice. I had known Erli was a cunning, ambitious woman. I had not thought that she would go to such lengths to achieve her goals.

I grit my teeth.

"You said she tried to kill you when you were a child," I continued. I knew this was not a pleasant subject for Sanli, but I could not help my curiosity. "Why did she stop?"

Sanli grinned. "As I grew older I made sure my reputation made it clear that I was no candidate for the position of regent. A carousing, drinking, lout of a prince. Who would fear me as a threat?"

I laughed. "A prince so cunning is a threat indeed. And I have known emperors with worse reputations." I packed away the items I had just used, back into the saddle bags. "But even with all the carousing, you still found time to study magic."

"Yes," said Sanli, twisting in his leafy bed to rest his back against the wall of the cave. "I could not do a lot in my childhood. If I showed even a little bit of talent in something, Erli would find a way to crush it. I was skilled at school, at study, and so she made it a place of hell for me."

Sanli looked down, at his hands clasped on his knees. "So I focused on magic. Even Erli could not control how many hours I sat up memorizing spells. And, well... I do have somewhat of a natural advantage, with my memory."

I understood now, why he had taken the loss of his seal so hard. Magic was where the prince felt most capable. The only place he felt able to succeed.

We all enjoy the things we're good at.

I hesitated before asking my next question, but it needed to be asked. "Do you think it was your sister, behind this?" I nodded toward the prince's bandaged shoulder.

"Oh most definitely," said Sanli bitterly. "Who else would it be? If it were bandits, why just target me? It was the Daquan. He followed us. We already know what a good shot he is."

I realized Sanli was referring to when Captain Duan had shot the rat by my feet. I had not made the connection, but now I thought about it, Sanli was most likely right.

"I know it was the Daquan," continued Sanli. "And I know it was Erli, who paid him to do it. Do you know how the real Sanli died?"

I was confused, and then I realized. He meant the other prince. The one who had died 18 years ago. I shook my head.

"He was in a hunting accident, in the north. He fell from his horse, down a ravine, and broke his neck."

What a coincidence.

Sanli took my arm in his hands, bowing his head as though too ashamed to meet my eyes. "I am sorry Ao. For getting you involved in this. For making you care for my injuries. And now, without my seal, I cannot protect you," the prince let my arm go, curling his hands into fists. "I cannot even start a fire. I am truly as useless as my family thinks me."

I knew well the look of anguish on the prince's face. He was not just sad for the loss of his seal, or his ability to do magic. He was sad because he felt as though without it he had become a burden. Useless. Weak.

I knew how that felt.

"There is nothing I hate more than a man trying to give me his protection," I said, standing. "Stay here and rest prince. I will find us food."

*~*~*~*~*~*

I managed to fish four large trout from the river, using line and fish hooks I had found wrapped in soggy paper in Sanli's saddle bags.

The fish were plentiful, and I realized we would not go hungry, even if I could not find a path up out of the gorge.

Still, I thought of the angry red color around Sanli's wounds. I wanted to venture up into the forest, to find plants to make a poultice.

It could not have been midday, but the sky overhead was so dark and overcast, it felt like evening. It would only get darker as the day wore on. I would have to go soon.

When I returned to the cave, Sanli had dressed, and sat feeding the fire.

"I know you said to rest, but my clothes were dry, so I thought it best to wear them," said Sanli, smiling cheekily. "Unless you prefer I... not?"

I ignored his flirtation and passed him the fish, already gutted.

"Cook these and eat your fill. I am going to find a path out of the gorge. Do not leave this cave." Sanli grinned like a young boy with mischief on his mind. "I mean it prince. Do not leave."

Sanli's smile was suddenly much more mature. "Oh, and what'll you do to me if I disobey?"

"Absolutely nothing," I said, leaving once more.

Outside the wind had grown colder, so that even with all my clothes and Yan's seals being unnaturally helpful, I could feel the bite against my bones. Like a wolf was gnawing on them with every gust.

I looked to the left, and then the right, debating if I should go down or upstream first. I chose the latter.

I struggled up the rocky bank of the river. It was wide, fortunately, a great swathe of boulders and sand stretching from the cliff face to the river, so I did not need to venture too close to the rushing rapids.

There was only one point, where the gorge narrowed considerably, and I had to throw myself from rock to rock to get across a bend in the river.

The white water roared beneath me, demanding I fall.

As I travelled I kept my eyes to the cliff face beside me, looking for anything, a vine, an animal track, or even just a cliff face with enough handhold for me to climb.

Finally I found what I was searching for. A root, long and trailing, hung halfway down the cliff face. Below that, the cliff was pockmarked enough to afford handholds.

I started climbing. When I was close enough, I reached out to grasp the thick root. I gave it a firm tug. Then another, harder. It did not break, so I pulled myself up the cliff.

Finally at the top, I pulled myself over the edge of the cliff, breathing heavily. Below me, the river rushed, its sound no less deafening from the top of the cliff. It almost seemed louder, as if the river was angry, envious that I had escaped from the confines of the gorge, while it could not.

I turned into the forest to search for the plants I needed.

*~*~*~*~*~*