Savage Divinity

Cursing her foolish pride and pampered lifestyle, Yan dreaded the aching thighs and bruised bottom she would soon experience. Had she known this would happen, she would never have snuck Shana and Zabu into Rain’s hut, a hasty decision made in a fit of pique and unreasonable jealousy. What did she expect to happen? For the quins to ruin Rain’s marriage night and send his new concubine screaming into the night? That he, so frustrated by the lack of sex, would ride through the city and storm into her room to demand an explanation for her actions? Then, in the heat of anger and throes of passion, they would fight with bare fists, pulling and tearing each others clothes off until...

Ridiculous. Now she paid the price for her actions, forced to endure inhumane abuse to her lower-half before a crowd of her peers and commoners.

There were few things worse than sitting upright on a hard, lumpy saddle and bouncing about on the back of a horse.

Losing her seat on Shana’s soft, stable hindquarters wasn’t even the worst of it, Yan also lost those adorable pups to play with and their ferocious papa-quin to protect her. She’d traded them away for a moody, skittish, gelding who seemed liable to run off at the first sign of danger. If only she’d put more effort into practising horsemanship, but after Grandpa took her in, she’d only ever ridden Shana or in a carriage. How anyone endured hours bouncing on these tall, steel-backed creatures and walked away whole was beyond her comprehension, her inner thighs already aching from strain after a few minutes of riding.

Why would anyone ride horses when quins were the objectively superior mount? A steadier gait and softer seat were the least of it, quins also required less maintenance and fewer supplies than these skittish, four-legged monstrosities. Being scatter-brained herbivores wasn’t enough, horses also had sensitive feet and selective diets. Too good to eat the plentiful grass all around them, her Acasian Trotter ate nothing but the best grain money could buy, and plenty to boot. The five kilogram bundle packed in her saddlebags would only last the horse a single day, and should this stupid contest run longer, she’d have to buy more grain instead of sending it out to forage for itself.

Considering how often they took an enormous, putrid shit mid-stride, they could stand to eat a little less.

Quashing her animosity, Yan awkwardly patted her mount’s neck in apology and prayed it wouldn’t rear up and throw her off if spooked. The placid creature didn’t notice her efforts to make nice, but it made Yan feel a little better about her rude inner-monologue. Since it did nothing for her pained muscles and poor temper, she focused on the task at hand instead, the contest from which she hoped to emerge victorious, though she hadn’t the slightest idea how she was supposed to accomplish such a monumental task.

Stupid Legate and his stupid contests. When the Eastern pretty-boy announced his ‘feats of strength, skill, speed, and spirit’, she imagined something more like a massed melee or a foot race of some sort, something combative and hot-blooded. Instead, she’d been assigned a meeting place where she was to meet her team and an Imperial Guardian masquerading as a civilian merchant. Then, they were to sortie off into the wilderness on some stupid task before moving on to the next part of the contest. It all seemed like a meaningless waste of time, but with Grandpa out of the city, she had nothing better to do, so she might as well play along and see what silly farce the Legate’s people had cooked up.

While riding towards her destination, Yan envisioned a harrowing escape through stony city streets and back alley paths, dragging the Guardian behind her in a desperate struggle against a second group of contestants assigned to stop them. In her imagined scenario, she’d step forward and take command of her fellow Captains and Warrant Officers, telling them to look after the Guardian while she single-handedly defeated her opponents in an overwhelming display of Martial skill, neatly proving her prowess and saving herself from the torture of riding a horse all afternoon.

The only way she could be more uncomfortable is if she were strapped face-up to her horse’s belly with her mouth positioned right below his asshole. Horses were the worst.

Arriving at the city outskirts, Yan found the stone marker where she was to meet her team. Despite her poor riding skills and slow pace, she was not the last to arrive and actually among the first. Standing with arms crossed and brow furrowed, an older, burly, dark-skinned southerner with an elaborately-styled moustache greeted her with a cold, silent stare. Unlike the other southerners she’d seen, this one was far less colourful, wearing standard-issue everything, right down to his standard-issue boots and standard-issue haircut. A career, common-born soldier then, one unaffiliated with clan, sect, or faction, yet still talented and fortunate enough to climb the ranks and even be issued a Spiritual Weapon, the wickedly curved one handed scimitar strapped to his waist. Though others might look down on his lack of backing, Yan immediately felt an unspoken kinship with the man. Were it not for a stroke of luck and meeting Grandpa, she undoubtedly would have followed in this humble soldier’s footsteps and become a career soldier herself, or at least a career Sentinel.

Beside him stood a tall, plain-faced man with a narrow physique and impassive expression, the Royal Guardian turned ward for the day, judging by his ill-fitting travel robes. Clumsily sliding off the saddle, she lifted the reins to greet the two men with a clasped-fist salute and a friendly smile. “This one is Du Min Yan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“This one is Qiang,” the Guardian replied, so uninterested in her smile he seemed ready to fall asleep. “We will go over the parameters of your mission once the rest of your team arrives.”

Seeing he had nothing else to say, Yan turned to the dour Southerner and smiled. “It appears we’ll be working together for the interim, Captain...?”

The Southerner frowned in silence for what felt like an eternity before grudgingly opening his mouth to utter, “Sutah.” Not the friendliest man around, but then again, she wasn’t here to make friends. Still, there was nothing wrong with being civil, so she kept smiling and nodded politely before positioning herself on Qiang’s left, her shield at the ready should she require it. Doing a quick visual check of their surroundings, she found there wasn’t much to see aside from the busy Imperial Road, with the city to her south, the Azure Sea to the West and unending swathes of grass stretching out in all other directions before disappearing off into the horizon, where sky met earth in a most disorienting fashion.

Even after living in Central for more than a year, Yan still often found herself unnerved by how flat everything was. There were no mountains dotting the horizon or dense forests blotting out the sun, only small mounds of grass which passed for hills and the odd tree to break up the monotonous scenery. Not to say Central was boring and ugly, there was beauty here, but it was a cultivated beauty, one of neat little gardens or carefully designed manors, lacking compared to the wild, untamed beauty of the North.

As much as she loved Grandpa Du and Eun, she missed living in the village and being part of a close knit community where everyone looked out for their neighbours. Hopefully, when her time in Central came to an end, there’d still be a place for her among the People, though considering how Mila and Big Huu snubbed her earlier, Yan wasn’t entirely optimistic about her chances. Mila she understood, the temperamental red-panda was upset over Yan’s ‘rejection’, but in her defence, Rain never meant for Zabu to be a betrothal gift. Returning him along with his pups was only the right thing to do, and Yan could still say Shana was only there on loan until her pups were old enough to separate them.

As for Big Huu... Hopefully, the big lug had been too distracted to notice her greeting. Before Rain, Big Huu had been her closest friend, her sparring partner and confidant, always happy to help her train and willing to endure her verbal barbs. She’d even had a crush on him for all of a week until she realized how boring and naggy he could be.

Maybe he was still mad because she accidentally revealed his pre-marital tryst with the lovely twin sisters to his militant and strong-armed Mother Ghurda...

The rest of Yan’s party took their sweet time arriving, three rich fops in their early thirties laughing and fawning over their last companion, a lovely young warrior woman. None were dressed appropriately for a military mission, the men wearing colourfully embroidered tunic with wide sleeves, gaudy, flared leggings, and adorned in a wide assortment of dangling hair ornaments and feathered decorations. Not to be outdone, the woman had an actual tiara to complete her full set of jewellery, including seven rings and countless bangles on both forearms and ankles. Her low-cut tunic and short skirt left plenty of skin bare, though at least she had the sense to sit side-saddle instead of displaying her nether regions for the entire world to see. How she expected to fight from horseback like that was a different question, but from what Yan could see, none of the latecomers were all too concerned about winning the contest.

Just her luck, getting stuck with a team of fops and dandies out on a lark. They’d even stopped to buy gourds of wine, presumably why they were so late...

None of the latecomers moved to dismount or introduce themselves, instead chatting away and fawning over the young lady who feigned modesty but did everything she could to encourage their rivalry. None of them seemed to notice Yan and Sutah’s displeasure, but seeing how Qiang voiced no objection, she held her tongue and waited for them to quiet down. Seizing a lull in their conversation, Yan smiled and saluted them in the spirit of cooperation. “Well met, fellow officers. This one is -”

“Hmph.” The leading ponce interrupted her mid greeting with an audible sneer. “We know who you are, harlot.”

Looking down her nose as if presented with a pile of garbage, the woman drew back from Yan and said, “Taking advantage of an aged hero of the Empire, how disgusting.” Making of show of studying Yan’s horns and chest, she added, “Small wonder he never married. Who knew the celebrated Du Min Gyu would have such... unique tastes.”

Well, fuck cooperation. Before Yan could drag the bitch off her horse and slap her senseless, Qiang spoke up. “This one is Royal Guardian Qiang.” Finally taking notice of him, the latecomers remained mounted and nodded in reply, probably believing a mere soldier not worthy of their friendship or courtesy. None of them offered their names, so Yan labelled them Ponces One through Three, and the woman earned the lofty designation of Floozy Prime.

Undeterred by their cold reception, Qiang explained the parameters of their mission in greater detail. They were to escort him to a military outpost north of the city, where he would then pass on news of ‘vital military intelligence’. Why he couldn’t tell someone in Nan Ping was a mystery, but Yan figured it’d be better to play along with the narrative. Qiang warned them there ‘might’ be attempts on his life, to which Ponce One snorted and said, “If one assassin comes, I will kill one, if ten comes, kill ten. This will be easy as turning my hand.”

Unable to help herself, Yan smiled and asked, “Did someone push your hairpins in too deep? This is an exercise, remember? Killing is forbidden.”

Fixing Yan with another sneer, he retorted, “Insolent cur. Do not think yourself unmatched because you were awarded a rank for sparring with other children on stage. The younger generation get worse each year, allowing an actual child to seize the title of Number one Talent in the Empire, much less two half-beasts to stand in the top three. An utter disgrace.”

Ponces Two and Three uttered their agreements and offered to put Yan in her place should she get ‘uppity’, and she prayed they’d find the courage to make a move. Ignoring their threats and disrespect, Qiang asked if anyone had questions and Sutah spoke up. “Map?”

At least now Yan knew Sutah was consistent with his monosyllabic utterances.

“I do not have one,” Qiang replied, voice wooden and flat as if reading from a script, “but I have travelled there many a time. Go north along this Imperial Road until the twenty-seventh stone marker, and our destination will be two hours directly east from there.”

Yan almost walked away right then and there, her spirits crushed by the prospect of travelling more than four hours on horseback. Longer considering how packed the roads were, with a constant flow of wagons and workers going in and out of Nan Ping. If not for the possibility of promotion by one rank, Yan might very well have given up, but as Ponce One and Floozy Prime so helpfully demonstrated, her disastrous performance on stage and new promotion were hardly enough to silence the rumours stirred up by Grandpa’s horrible relatives. A few years ago, a twenty-year-old Warrant Officer Third Grade would have been the talk of the province, but Falling Rain recently set a new standard for outstanding and overshadowed all of Yan’s exploits.

Even after a year and half of separation, Rain could still frustrate Yan to no end.

“If there are no more questions, then it’s best we leave now.” Playing his role with all the charisma of a rock, Qiang once again stressed, “The information I bear is of the utmost importance, and concerns the safety of Nan Ping itself. Many would seek to silence me and stop this information from reaching the right ears.”

“Very well.” Still putting on airs, Ponce One fancied himself in command and said, “Mount up. Let’s get this over with.”

Resisting the urge to challenge his authority, Yan pulled herself back onto the horse and reminded herself why she was here. She needed to prove herself and silence the wagging tongues of Central, show everyone she deserved to be Grandpa Du’s Terminal Disciple and shift public opinion to their side. As for being his Granddaughter, they could all eat shit. What business was it of theirs if Grandpa Du took her in as family? She loved the old man like a father and only his stubborn insistence regarding his old age kept her from calling him as such.

Then again, she didn’t have to prove anything, especially after Grandpa had just been tapped by the Legate to carry out some super secretive mission. He couldn’t say what he’d be doing, but he’d been so excited, he’d ignored all decorum and exited in style by leaping off the Ryo Family balcony.

Someday, she too would fly through the skies and never have to ride a horse ever again...

Taking his place as their glorious leader, Ponce One led his entourage away, leaving Yan, Sutah, and Qiang in their wake. Shaking her head with an amused grin, Yan awkwardly manoeuvred her horse to Qiang’s left while Sutah mirrored her actions on his right, the optimal setup for both to defend their ward. Sitting in place until Yan gestured for him to follow, Qiang behaved exactly as a merchant would, neither taking the lead nor eager to leave his escort’s side as they led him to the road.

Unfamiliar with travel protocol, Ponce One tried to bring them onto the side of the Imperial Road reserved for Military and noble use, but quickly discovered Qiang did not have the proper token of authority required to use them. After a brief argument with the guards, during which he invoked his father’s name no less than four times, a shame-faced Ponce One wandered over to the ‘peasant’ side of the road, much to Yan’s delight. She’d long since spotted another group of contestants with their ward on the slower moving side of the road, and was only too happy to let Ponce One humiliate himself to no end. Sutah and Qiang hardly seemed amused, but Yan’s smile couldn’t be any wider despite the less than ideal circumstances.

Minutes passed in arduous silence as their party proceeded at a slow and steady pace, bogged down by the heavy traffic and late start. Most travellers were on foot or riding in wagons, and while Yan kept an eye on the other riders, she noticed they were all fellow contestants stuck in similar straits. If an ‘assassin’ wanted to remain hidden, they’d have to proceed on foot, which meant any one of these travellers could be waiting to strike as they passed. Voicing her opinions, she asked Sutah to watch those travellers moving with them, while Yan accepted the more difficult task of watching those shambling towards them.

The other four were less than useless, driving forward with no regard for anyone’s safety, be it their own, their ward’s, or even their fellow travellers. Still, it wasn’t overly difficult keeping watch, and Yan fell back on an old hunter’s technique to remain focused for hours on end. The trick was to let your mind relax, but not wander, mentally listing anything and everything of interest without committing your mind to it. A moving branch, a rustling leaf, the howl of wind, or the call of a bird, it kept your mind active without overtaxing it, a tranquil focus in which one sought nothing, but found everything.

A gruff man reaching for a weapon hidden in his waistband, an elderly woman rummaging through a chest for a bow, a wandering apothecary in a little too much of a rush, Yan noted anyone and everyone who might be a threat and let her body respond without thinking. It was all meaningless of course, the gruff man was merely scratching his balls, the elderly woman looking for a parasol, and the apothecary likely rushing to save a life, but it never hurt to be cautious. Even then, after ninety minutes of butt-numbing travel, Yan was fast approaching the limits of her patience.

This was ridiculous. How was this supposed to prove her worth? A boring, event-less ride to the nearest military outpost and back, how taxing indeed. Then again, she should thank the Mother for small favours. Yan shuddered to think how her poor posterior would fare at any pace faster than a walk. Besides, the trip wasn’t entirely in vain; Yan’s grin widened as she watched Ponce One get his purse stolen and saddlebags rummaged through from right under his nose. When the daring, yet handsome thief noticed he’d been caught, Yan merely winked and waved him away, all too happy to let the idiot young noble suffer a loss.

Upon reaching the twenty-seventh marker, Qiang helpfully reminded Ponce One that the outpost was due east, even though Yan was prepared to quietly leave them behind. Her actions didn’t escape Ponce One’s notice, but she merely smiled and continued on her way, scanning the cobbled stone path and surrounding grasslands for signs of danger or ambush. A pointless endeavour, for any ambush could be spotted from a kilometre away, but still she kept her guard up.

Despite her protesting groin, Yan picked up the pace in hopes of reaching their destination or whatever surprise Qiang had planned for them a little sooner. Ultimately, her hopes were dashed along with what remained of her pelvis as they arrived at the outpost without incident or excitement. Dreading the ride back, she stayed at Qiang’s side as they joined the line of contestants waiting outside the gates, where the Royal Guardian who’d given a speech earlier today was evaluating each team’s progress.

Spotting a familiar head of curly red hair at the front of the line, Yan yearned to saunter over, say hello, and explain her actions to Mila. It’s not that she didn’t want to meet or speak to the People, but she couldn’t. Already, Grandpa’s family claimed Yan was a Northern puppet here to steal Du Family wealth and power, so it was best for everyone involved if they stayed apart. Central nobles were a proud and insular bunch, ready to unite at the first hint of ‘foreign’ invasion into their local markets. Unfortunately, for those same reasons, Yan couldn’t walk over and chat with Mila, or respond to their letters, or even be seen riding Shana or Zabu.

Mila would understand, right?

“What?” The incredulous utterance came from one of Mila’s companions, his face turning red with anger. “We all completed the same challenge on the same team, so why does she pass,” he asked, pointing at Mila, “while the three of us fail?

With a sigh, the lead Guardian rolled his eyes and answered, “Your goal was to escape pursuit and bring news of an imminent rebellion to this outpost, correct? So why, despite Captain Sumila’s protests, did you stop and challenge your pursuers to single combat?” Without waiting for an answer, the Guardian continued. “Not only did all three of you lose to your opponents, you also tried to escape during Captain Sumila’s bout despite being ‘incapacitated’. You only succeeded because she defeated all six pursuers in massed combat, led you away, and saw off two more attacks and an ambush using her bow.” Nodding at Mila in appreciation, he added, “This one commends you on your skill and restraint. Even blunted arrows can cause grave injury, but the worst your pursuers suffered was a blow to their pride. Captain Sumila, I invite you to enter the outpost.”

Beaming with joy, Mila held her head up in pride and led Atir into the outpost while her three teammates slinked away. Happy as Yan was for her friend, she couldn’t help but wonder why Mila’s test was so much more exciting than her own.

When it came time for Yan’s group to be judged, Qiang greeted the Guardian with a salute, while Yan and Sutah followed suit. Ponce One not only failed to salute, he even had the audacity to step forward and point at the Guardian. “What is the meaning of this,” he demanded, waving his finger at the Guardian. “Our contest was – ow, ow, owie, owwwww!”

The last was uttered as the Royal Guardian grabbed hold of Ponce One’s finger and wrenched it about, dropping the pampered dandy to his knees while his face contorted in pain. Ignoring his cries, the Royal Guardian calmly nodded at Qiang and said, “Report.”

“These four,” Qiang said, pointing out everyone aside from Yan and Sutah, “Fail. Throughout our journey, they drank five gourds of wine and died seventeen times.”

“What?”

“Your clothing,” Qiang replied, not bothering to even spare Floozy Prime a glance. “The assassins marked you with red chalk each time they approached.” While the others checked their clothes for the telltale markings, Qiang gestured at Ponce One and added, “This one was so inept, the assassins helped themselves to his food, wine, and coin without his notice.”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Yan’s stomach as the lead Guardian asked, “And these other two?”

“Both demonstrated sufficient awareness in identifying threats, but a complete lack of leadership qualities. She,” Qiang said, gesturing at Yan, “Caught one assassin rummaging through her comrade’s things and waved the culprit off, while he behaved like a subordinate the entire time. This one believes neither one suitable for promotion at this time, and thus recommend both be failed.”

Well... fuck.

“Disappointing,” the lead Guardian said, his eyes focused on Yan. “I had high hopes for this one. A rare talent, even if brought back to the homeland. Did she have reason to let the assassin off?”

“Children’s games,” Qiang replied. “Verbal barbs were traded, but an officer of a thousand must rise above such things, or settle them with an iron fist.”

“Would it be too late to smack him around now?” Yan asked, smiling wryly at the lost opportunity. “And if so, would you mind terribly if I still beat him regardless?”

With a bark of laughter, the lead Guardian shook his head. “No need. I deem Qiang’s judgment too harsh. Leadership is easier to teach than vigilance and caution. Both of you pass, but be warned, the next portion of the contest will not be as easy. Warrant Officer Du Min Yan, Captain Sutah, I invite you both to enter.” Glaring at Ponce One, whose finger was still caught in his grasp, the Royal Guardian said, “I invite the rest of you to scram.”

Sauntering into the outpost, Yan couldn’t resist smirking over her shoulder as her former teammates scrambled away from the irate Guardian, their horses throwing up a cloud of dust in the wake of their retreat. When she faced forward once again, she found Mila standing in front of her with arms crossed and smile cold. “I like your horse,” Mila said, her teeth clenched and eyes blazing. “So pretty and tall. I hope his speed will keep you safe in the days to come.” Shooting the creature a glare as if it had personally offended her, Mila stomp off without another word while sweet Atir followed behind. Her good cheer slipping away, Yan sighed and resigned herself to fate. Even if she corrected their misunderstanding, there was little chance for victory.

Not when competing against the true number one talent of the Empire, Sumila of the People, a woman so far above her, Yan didn’t even deserve to be called a rival.

Chapter Meme