Savage Divinity

Biting into her dumpling, Mila tore a hole in the delicate skin and watched as the fragrant steam escaped its doughy confines. The greasy, glistening, soup-filled centre taunted her with its meaty, savoury deliciousness, but years of experience taught her to let it cool lest she embarrass herself by scalding her tongue. Counting the seconds with arduous effort, she barely reached five before popping the dumpling into her mouth, whereupon she moaned in blissful satisfaction. “Delicious,” she said, speaking around a mouthful of meat, oil, and herbs. “Too delicious. My compliments to the talented chef.”

Beaming in delight, Tate’s eyes all but disappeared as he basked in her praise, his open-mouthed smile infectious to all who saw it. Nose wrinkled in a pout, Tali held out her plate and said, “Try mine now Mi-Mi, try mine.”

Happy to oblige, Mila swallowed her first dumpling, took a sip of tea ‘to clear her palate’, and inspected Tali’s dumpling, much like she did for Tate’s. Repeating her actions without deviation, she ate her second dumpling and extolled its deliciousness using the exact same words. Pleased as she was, little Tali would not be dissuaded from her initial query, planting her tiny fists on her hips in what she thought was an intimidating glower. “Which one tasted better? Rainy said Tate made more dumplings and mine looked nicer, but what about the taste, ya?”

Nodding in mock severity, Mila replied, “A most grievous oversight.” Making a show of deliberate contemplation, she sighed and shook her head. “Sorry sweetlings, but I can’t decide. Both dumplings were equally delicious.” And as well they should. Rain not only made the wraps and the filling, he also steamed them while the twins played with their prizes, two gaudy, lion puppets. Suspended from strings attached to crossbar, the silk-swaddled puppets ‘danced’ when dangled about, all thanks to a few words from Rain, a bit of clever carpentry from Charok, plenty of creative sewing from Alsantset, and many long hours of hard work from the latter two to get the puppets in working order.

Once again, Mila’s beloved underestimated the effort required to execute one of his ‘simple’ ideas.

The idiot.

Despite her delicious breakfast and the twins’ adorable antics, seeing Rain happily chatting with Zheng Luo soured Mila’s good mood. It couldn’t be helped, it was in her nature. Even seeing him cuddle with Lin made her seethe with jealousy, much less a stranger they met only three days past. With her jade-like skin, voluptuous figure, and eyes like clear Autumn water, calling the Imperial Servant extraordinarily beautiful would be an understatement, but no woman liked to see her man fawn over someone else.

Devouring yet another delicious dumpling, Mila eyed the pair of would-be lovers and begrudgingly admitted that perhaps ‘fawning’ wasn’t entirely accurate. With Baloo sprawled across his lap, Rain’s focus lay primarily with massaging the indolent bear’s scalp while Zheng Luo sat well out of reach from both man and bear, lecturing ‘Lord Husband’ on his appearance. “Like it or not, proper grooming and a polished appearance are key to garnering respect from your peers and lessers,” she declared, missing Rain’s hidden look of exasperation. “Just as one would not trust a skinny chef or a sickly Healer, most find it difficult to respect an unkempt noble. Lord Husband need not put forth even a modicum of effort, for this matter can be settled by hiring an attendant, someone like young magistrate Fung’s manservant.”

“Ha!” Rolling his eyes, Rain replied, “Impossible. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I’d find a second Fu Zhu Li sitting around with nothing better to do than to launder my clothes and brush my hair. Besides,” he added, running his eyes over his Death Corps escort, Guan Suo, Tenjin, Tursinai, and Lin’s Guards, “There are already too many people hanging around me. A man needs his space.”

Pleased by their misunderstanding, Mila kept silent and continued eating dumplings, leaving it for someone else to inform Zheng Luo of Fu Zhu Li’s... comprehensive skill-set. After long seconds, Mila realized no one else noticed as Lin was still half asleep and Alsantset busy fixing Tali’s torn puppet. Now, it was too late to explain things and the guilt ate away at Mila’s conscience. Though she couldn’t bring herself to accept Zheng Luo with open arms, getting rid of the Imperial Servant meant consigning her to death, an outcome Mila couldn’t accept. She disliked sharing Rain with yet another woman, but not to the point of sending her to death without reason.

Things would be so much easier if Zheng Luo weren’t so damned perfect, with her impeccable manners and graceful poise...

It pained Mila to admit she liked Zheng Luo better when Rain treated her with indifference, but this morning, things had changed. Don’t think Mila didn’t notice her loose collar and flushed skin, not to mention how Rain casually mentioned the two of them spent time ‘chatting’ alone in his yurt and ‘getting to know one another better’. This incorrigible, lecherous, adulterous man... even if he hadn’t already tasted his new concubine, Mila saw how quickly he warmed up to this beautiful and enthusiastic woman, sitting with his back to her in a subconscious show of trust and seeking her out for advice when Mila could have told him the same thing. She’d never harangued him about his appearance because she found his dishevelled and tousled look charming, and who cared about the respect of strangers? If an untucked shirt was enough for someone to dismiss you, then their friendship wasn’t worth having. Appearances were deceiving, while actions spoke true.

Just like Rain’s lustful behaviour with Luo-Luo, making excuses to spend time alone with her...

Finally noticing her foul temper and angry glares, Rain sidled over to her and flashed his irksome, handsome grin. “Don’t be jealous,” he said, leaning close to kiss her shoulder while Baloo sniffed at her plate of dumplings.

In no mood to be teased, Mila shrugged him off and turned away, stuffing the last of her dumplings into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak or share. Stupid man, could he not see how upset she was? And still he tested her patience. Swallowing her food, she put her plate aside and pulled the nearby Tate into her arms. “Remember sweetling,” she said, making no effort to keep her voice down. “When you grow up, you must be more like your Papa and less like your Uncle, understand?”

“Okay.” So darling and agreeable, Tate nodded as he made himself comfortable in her arms. “Mi-Mi, are you mad at Rainy?”

“Hmph. Why would I be mad?”

“I dunno, but you sound mad, ya? Did Rainy do something wrong?”

“Never you mind, just remember what I said.”

“Okay Mi-Mi. I’ll be more like Papa and less like Rainy.” Pursing his lips in thought, Tate fell silent for a moment before speaking again. “...But I don’t like cooking, so can I be like Granpapa instead?”

“Even better.” Charok’s love for Alsantset was only surpassed by Baatar’s devotion to Sarnai. Mila would never understand how Rain turned into such a lecherous fool when he had two fine upstanding examples to learn from.

Still able to laugh in the face of Mila’s anger, Rain pinched Tate’s rosy cheek. “Smart child. Whether it be your Papa or Grandpapa, both are better role models than I.” Turning his attention to Mila, he asked, “Excited for the contest? Should I come cheer you on from the side?”

“Absolutely not.” Annoyed by his lack of sense, she smacked his hand away from poor Tate’s face. “Need I remind you, someone has already tried to kill you twice.”

“Not entirely true, my love.” Smirking as he slipped his arm around her waist, he tried to kiss her shoulder again and again, she shrugged him off. “It’s entirely possible I was targeted by two separate people who want me dead. Your betrothed is a man with many enemies.”

Rolling her eyes, she leaned into his embrace before remembering she was still mad at him, but stayed there regardless to enjoy his warmth. “Either way, the last thing you should do is traipse off and give your enemies more opportunities to kill you. Even a blind archer will sometimes hit the target.”

“Fair enough.” Snuggling against her, he gazed fondly at Tate, though she noticed his eyes also lingered on her chest. Most days she’d purse her lips and frown, but today, she let him be. “Sad though, I wanted to see my lovely betrothed’s rise to glory. Warrior, strategist, blacksmith, and enchantress, the Saga of Sumila begins today.” Stifling a yawn, he added, “I’ll just stay here and take a nap, soon as I find Zabu and his adorable pups. He’s hiding them from me, I know he is, that greedy little cuddle-hog.”

Putting aside her indignation at Yan for returning Rain’s betrothal gift, Mila swallowed her anger to focus on Rain. He was never one for sloth or idleness, and while yesterday’s long, afternoon nap could be attributed to the action-packed opening day of the Imperial Grand Conference, for him to nap two days in a row was... not exactly worrying, but concerning. Her poor beloved was so strong, yet so fragile. Rain deserved all his accolades and more, for even though he started later than most, he soon surpassed his so-called peers and now rivalled common warriors a decade his senior. Few knew the dark secret to his success, of how his strength was built upon a past rife with hardship and suffering. Rain pursued strength not out of desire, but compulsion, his single-minded focus and iron-determination arising out of abject refusal to ever be helpless again.

As the number one talent in the Empire and newest member of the Imperial Clan, perhaps the burden of success had unravelled his last nerve and he was finally cracking under the pressure...

Resting her head against his, she asked, “Are you okay?” Switching to Sending, she added, “Know this, I am always here for you and love you regardless of rank or station.”

“Love you too.” With a wry smile of appreciation, he shook his head and sighed. “It’s nothing serious,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I’m just a little demoralized is all. About the er... book, and how no one wants a copy. I put a lot of effort into researching and writing it, but I can’t even give copies away.”

There was more to it, but if this was all he wanted to reveal, then she would not press for more. She’d warned him this would happen, but to her credit, Mila refrained from saying as much. Rain had good intentions, but many of his ideas were too abstract or unwieldy to be of use. For example, as impressive as having a water clock might seem, what benefits would it bring which could justify the expense? A caliper was useful for drawing maps, but mapmakers were an arrogant and insular bunch, unlikely to embrace Rain’s creative tool no matter how helpful it might prove. His buckles were clever and convenient, but tying knots wasn’t exactly an arduous task, and cast iron was inferior to wrought iron by every metric except cost. The most useful item in his book was the soap, but it’s not as if soap didn’t already exist. Rain only made a milder, better-smelling soap, not exactly a world-shattering development. Paper lay among the same vein, as those who could afford to write would hardly celebrate saving a few dozen gold coins every year.

This was all without mentioning the unfinished projects he insisted on adding, believing not only that his ideas were feasible, but there was someone else out there as mule-headed as he was and willing to waste both time and resources exploring them.

Unable to think of anything nice to say and unsure how else to raise his spirits, Mila’s hesitation cost her dearly as Zheng Luo spoke up during the lull. “Lord Husband’s book will bring great change to the Empire, only... With all due respect, this one believes Lord Husband erred in giving his knowledge away for free.”

Hmph, as if someone would pay for it...

Oblivious to Mila’s rude thoughts, Rain asked Zheng Luo to explain, and the temptress was all too happy to oblige. “It’s merely human nature. Even a priceless work of art can be mistaken for garbage if left on the side of the street beside a pile of trash. In giving the book away, the perceived value of the knowledge within becomes nil, because such is the value assigned to it. Even the most impoverished citizens would think twice before digging through garbage in search of treasure, while people in position to use Lord Husband’s knowledge would lose face if they did the same.”

“So... no one believes I have any useful knowledge... because I’m giving it away for free?” Making a face, Rain whined, “But I sent copies to Yuzhen, Fung’s Dad, Teacher, and others too. They all read it but none of them found anything particularly useful.” With another sigh, Rain continued, “I thought it was because they didn’t understand, but maybe they’re right. Maybe my ideas are stupid.”

“Absolutely not, Lord Husband is a brilliant man, standing head and shoulders above his peers.” Eyes brimming with confidence, Zheng Luo’s unwavering support for Rain made Mila uncomfortable. They only met for a few days, how could she already have so much faith in him?

Worried Rain was being set up for more disappointment, Mila interrupted their conversation. “Then how would you suggest we fix this?” Now Zheng Luo was forced to offer something substantial besides excuses and suggestions, lest Rain see her for the charlatan she was.

“If Lord Husband is adamant he spread this knowledge, then Luo-Luo has a suggestion.” With a knowing smile and a leisurely shrug, Zheng Luo explained, “Lord Husband only needs to show there are benefits to be had, and opportunists will arrive like thunder and depart like the wind, all too eager to profit from your brilliant ideas.”

“Yea, but if I knew how to make money from this stuff, I wouldn’t have resorted to crowd-sourcing ideas.” Grinning, he quipped, “I spend coin faster than I earn it, and only a... significant windfall has kept me from going broke. I gave paper to the Legate, because the logistics of setting up a paper industry made my head spin, but the rest of my inventions aren’t exactly big money makers. Buckles cost next to nothing, same with soap and all those little tools I made. A few gold coins here and there, but it’ll hardly make anyone filthy rich and is still too expensive for most people to afford. Considering the Empire’s current situation, I’ve been trying to come up with something useful to the military, but so far, nothing. We couldn’t figure out how to safely concentrate and contain Rattan Gas into lethal doses, nor did we ever make anything explode with the yellow dye. Liquid stone was a bust, and for some reason, nobody thinks crossbows are useful.”

Unable to remain silent, Mila explained, “Your crossbows either have an impressive rate of fire and lack power and range, or fire too slowly and can only be used by a select few. They’re also prohibitively expensive to make and require expertise beyond most expert craftsmen, to say nothing of amateurs.”

“Lord Husband’s thinking is too narrow.” Pulling out a copy of Rain’s book from her bosom, Zheng Luo opened the book to the page on cast iron and held it out for Rain to see.

...Was she holding it at chest level because she wanted to flaunt her bosom, or because it was the optimal height for Rain to read from?

More importantly... “Cast iron?” Mila asked, her voice tinged with doubt. “It’s too brittle and inflexible for weapons or tools, liable to shatter if struck wrong. It’s cheap and easy, but I’d be consigning soldiers to their deaths if I gave them weapons made from cast iron. It’s an interesting discovery, but limited in use.”

“Indeed, as noted in Lord Husband’s book.” Lips still upturned in her patient, perceptive smile, Zheng Luo continued, “But Luo-Luo disagrees with Sister Mila’s conclusion. Considering cast iron requires only a simple furnace and little to no expertise to create, the possibilities are numerous as stars in the sky. Cast iron could replace all manner of things used in our daily lives, such as cheap iron pans and kettles, or more complicated and expensive items like large bells or sturdier wagon frames and wheels.” Presenting Mila with a seated bow, Zheng Luo perfectly portrayed a humble, but dignified woman, so proper and refined she could be a daughter of the Mother Herself. “Luo-Luo lacks a profound knowledge of metallurgy and defers to Sister Mila, but could reinforced doors or walls work?”

“...It could, and it’d work well too.” Damn well. Thinking things through, Mila voiced her thoughts out loud. “Even if a Honed weapon could cut clean through it, two brick walls with a cast iron plate between them would be simple enough to craft and slow all but the most powerful of warriors. If the iron were thick and heavy enough, it would even present a challenge to peak Experts, provided they can’t leap over it.”

After Zheng Luo brought up using cast iron for common items, Mila’s mind couldn’t stop coming up with examples. Furniture, decorations, lanterns, and ploughshares, so long as it wasn’t meant for high impact use, cast iron could make it better. Damn, the crossbows she just claimed were prohibitively expensive would drastically fall in price if the gears and inner workings were made from cast iron moulds. Even weapons like throwing spears and arrow shafts might benefit from cast iron’s brittle nature, showering the enemy in a debilitating rain of metal shards upon impact. Tch, with how cheaply cast iron could be made, it could even be used to build taller buildings and longer bridges at greatly reduced cost, connecting parts of the Empire which had long since lain impassable or unreachable...

Having lost herself in her thoughts, Mila came to her senses and found Rain and Zheng Luo listening to her idle musings with rapt attention. Whooping with joy, Rain hugged her tight and kissed her cheek, but Mila felt no joy or pride. Skin flushed in humiliation, she left Rain and Zheng Luo discussing whether to borrow money and establish their own foundry or partner with an established merchant enterprise.

She doubted they even noticed her absence, and if so, were probably relieved to be rid of this nuisance to their budding romance.

Burying her face in Atir’s fur, Mila headed for the city outskirts and cursed herself for a fool. Zheng Luo, brilliant, hateful, perfect Zheng Luo, how was Mila supposed to measure up? Why was that hateful woman so damn smart? Weren’t noblewomen supposed to be large-breasted simpletons who did nothing but fritter their lives away spending coin and playing Mahjong?

Hmph. No matter. If need be, Mila wasn’t opposed to using force to intimidate her rival into submission. If ‘Luo-Luo’ insisted on acting smug and superior all the time, then Mila would hold her down and beat her with a switch, and if she dared complain to ‘Lord Husband’, then Mila would beat him too.

When it came to matters of love and war, Mila would show no mercy. Mercy to one’s enemies was cruelty to oneself.

Arriving at the contest staging grounds, she easily made her way through the crowd with Atir, the horses shying away from the large, hungry predator, or perhaps scared off by Mila’s enraged visage. She almost wished some uppity young fool would make a comment regarding her age, gender, or heritage just so she would have an excuse to hurt someone. After registering her name with the clerk, she brought Atir to wait alone to one side, greeting a few familiar faces but refusing to approach them. The details of the contest had yet to be announced, so it stood to reason that everyone here was now a rival, thousands of Captain ranked talents gathered together and all vying for fame and promotion.

She spotted Zian, BoShui, and Fung almost immediately, standing amidst a growing crowd of would-be bootlickers and flunkies. With them were Ryo Geom-Chi and Seoyoon, though their older sister Da’in was nowhere to be found. A good thing too, Mila had only shared a brief exchange with them during Rain’s wedding banquet, but she sensed that the eldest Ryo sibling was not a woman to take lightly. Huu stood off in the shadows with his new quin, though too focused in thought to notice Mila’s subtle greeting. Quyen Dienne and his two comrades were also present, the latter two seated upon one-horned rhinoceroses while the former sat atop a massive, hulking elephant. The contestants had all been told to bring their mounts, travel bags, and a single day’s worth of rations and feed, but there were no restrictions or limits regarding what else could be brought. Dienne took full advantage of his beast’s size and power, its back bristling with luggage, gear, and rations enough to feed ten, and more with his lackeys.

Thank the Mother Rain’s higher rank disqualified him from entering, since he’d be shameless enough to claim Ping-Ping as his mount...

After spotting the other members of the Hwarang, Mila stopped looking for there was no one else she knew. In fact, she deliberately overlooked Yan and outright ignored her, still furious she’d refuse Rain’s proposal without so much as an explanation or note. A member of the Hwarang and newly promoted Warrant Officer Third Grade, ‘Du Min Yan’ was apparently too good for Rain and the People now. Typical of his stupidity, Rain was too enamoured by the five quin pups and his new concubine to realize what Zabu and Shana’s return meant, a rejection from yet another woman he undoubtedly loved. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell him, and truth be told, she was both saddened and relieved to know Yan didn’t want to marry Rain. Their bonds had been forged in the heat of battle, first against the Society and again with the Defiled, but Rain’s harem was already crowded enough as it was. Worse, if Yan were to join, Mila would drop from third favourite to fourth.

Whether the deer-horned girl could surpass Zheng Luo to take second place was a mystery, but no woman would ever shake Lin from the number one place in Rain’s heart.

“Contestants.” Standing atop his lion’s back, a Royal Guardian raised his hands and the crowd fell silent, his voice audible even without enhancement from Chi. “Each of you gathered here today holds the rank of Captain or its equivalent, a commander of a hundred warriors. Climb one step higher in rank and you will have the privilege to command ten times that number, a thousand warriors of the Empire, not an insignificant force by any measure. Thus, the single step between Captain and Senior Captain has always been an arduous one, for upon the battlefield, a thousand men could spell the difference between glorious victory and disgraceful defeat.” Solemn and without cheer, the Royal Guardian gazed out over the contestants, his eyes lingering on a select few, Mila included. “At the end of the Grand Conference, some of you will be awarded with a promotion for your performance in these contests and challenges, but I assure you, you will be tested in all aspects whether it be strength, intelligence, leadership, or cunning. Should you emerge victorious and secure a promotion, rest easy in knowing you have earned it.” The last was delivered as a threat, an ominous portent of things to come. Pausing to let his words sink in, the Royal Guardian soon continued. “You are all warriors of the Empire, thus killing is prohibited. Anyone found purposely sabotaging their comrades will be punished by military law. Form ranks.”

Falling in line, Mila stood beside two soldiers who towered above her, not an unfamiliar situation, but an unpleasant one all the same. Patting Atir’s neck to keep her from eating a horse, Mila watched and waited for further instructions, but none were forthcoming. Instead, she noticed multiple Royal Guardians making their way through the ranks in utter silence. When Mila’s turn arrived, her Royal Guardian Sent, “Your commanding officer has stumbled across plans for an imminent rebellion within the barracks. Unsure who to trust, he has tapped you and three comrades to bring word to the nearest garrison. You have four hours to complete your mission, and if successful, you will be issued another by your point of contact.” Mila was then given a location to meet her comrades and a password for her contact before the Royal Guardian moved on to the Captain beside her.

Grinning in anticipation, Mila stood in place and used this time to go over her orders and study her rivals. Though the mission appeared straightforward enough, who was to say each contestant would receive the same orders? Perhaps her neighbour was being told to hunt down a group of escaped criminals, and she would be his quarry. Also, considering the scenario, one or more of her comrades might well be a rebel in disguise, with orders to silence the rest before they could reach their destination.

How fun.

Determined to win and earn her promotion to Senior Captain, Mila set out with fire in her belly and victory on her mind. No matter how talented and hardworking Rain might be, being outranked by her beloved vexed her to no end and this was her chance to balance the scales. Someday, when she deserved it, she would topple the balance once more and claim her place as Number One Talent in the Empire.

Someday.

Chapter Meme