Bian Lingbai!
Helian Bo took a seat at his table and flipped over the half-finished portrait of Duan Ling. He began sketching the surrounding terrain, labeling landmarks and circling a few places. Duan Ling nearly spat blood at the sight.
“Hidden troops,” Helian Bo explained.
Duan Ling was shocked speechless for a moment. “How many?” he asked, already sensing it wouldn’t be an easy number to face.
Helian Bo lifted two fingers—twenty thousand men.
“All bandits?” Duan Ling asked.
Helian Bo shook his head: He didn’t know. The mounted bandits who’d ambushed him and Wu Du were perhaps only a small portion of the larger force, then. What were they plotting, to plant so many troops across the hills of Tong Pass? Duan Ling stuffed the paper into his breast pocket.
“I can think of a way to lure them out,” he said to Helian Bo.
Helian Bo waved, then looked meaningfully at Duan Ling. The wave was a refusal of his offer; the stare meant those people were his own tribesmen.
“Trade?” asked Duan Ling.
Trade was a word he, Helian Bo, and Batu had often bandied between them back at Ming Academy, bartering for food or trinkets. Simple-minded as boys often were, some of their things had changed hands so many times that, by the end, no one could remember whom the original owner had been. Helian Bo’s smile returned. He took a seat back on the divan and propped a foot on the table. Though he was merely seventeen, he already exuded the aura of authority befitting a ruler. He gestured at Duan Ling. “Speak.”
The feeling that washed over Duan Ling was both familiar and strange. They had all grown up—and now, here he was, about to represent a country and make deals with Helian Bo. But he had nothing he could rightly offer in exchange. What was more amazing was that Helian Bo had never questioned his background: what his true identity was, and what had brought him to Tong Pass. Duan Ling had simply said trade, and Helian Bo had asked him—naturally—to make his offer.
“The reopening of the Silk Road,” Duan Ling said without hesitation.
Helian Bo contemplated the proposal but didn’t respond right away.
Duan Ling knew the reopening of the Silk Road was something Western Liang hoped for, as well as the Marquis of Huaiyin’s goal for the marriage alliance. It was no great leap to guess that what Helian Bo most wanted would be control over the Silk Road.
“Once the Silk Road reopens, merchant caravans will be required to carry travel permits stamped with the Helian clan’s seal to go through Tong Pass,” Duan Ling added. “The Tong Pass Garrison will recognize only the seal, not the person carrying the papers.”
Helian Bo’s eyes lit up, but he still didn’t answer.
Duan Ling’s mind raced as he assessed the situation. Was his proposal feasible? Once Bian Lingbai was dead, a new border general would be appointed to Tong Pass; all the effort Yao Fu had invested in Bian Lingbai would be for naught. Control of the border—and who passed through it—would fall into Mu Kuangda’s hands, and Duan Ling had no influence whatsoever on matters of tax collection or trade routes.
If he regained his rightful place as the crown prince, he would certainly have a chance at persuading the court to recognize Helian Bo as the scion of Western Liang. But right now he was a nobody. What were the chances he could get Mu Kuangda to agree to his plan?
“Who a-are you?” Helian Bo asked.
“Aren’t I Duan Ling?” He spread his arms to show Helian Bo he was the real thing. “If you’re concerned, I’ll dispatch a letter right now on a fast horse to Xichuan. It would get there within a day. You can take your time to consider this carefully, or send word home to ask for the opinion of your people.”
The commotion in the yard finally became impossible to ignore. Someone shouted, “Capture the assassin!”
The two immediately fell silent. Duan Ling looked around, realizing someone had intruded into their courtyard. While Helian Bo sat confused, Duan Ling wondered at once if Wu Du had been captured. Since everyone was apparently trying to catch the assassin, Wu Du seemed to have escaped for now. But if Bian Lingbai came to personally investigate and discovered Duan Ling meeting with the Tanguts alone, it would confirm Wu Du was—
His thoughts ground to a halt as the doors flew open with a resounding bang and two guards crashed inside. Helan Jie stormed through after them and swung his hook at Duan Ling. The hook caught him by the collar, and Helan Jie yanked him into the air at the same time Helian Bo sprang from the table, drawing his saber. Duan Ling contorted in midair to dodge the gleaming blade as it slashed toward Helan Jie.
Helan Jie switched his grip, catching Duan Ling with his damaged left hand as he lashed out with the hook on his right and knocked Helian Bo’s saber out of his hands.
“I knew Wu Du wasn’t here!” Helan Jie cackled, dragging Duan Ling behind him as he fled the house and leapt onto the courtyard’s wall. “You’re coming with me to see the general!”
Duan Ling had a supremely bad feeling about this—Helan Jie must have lost track of the assassin he was chasing and cut his losses, deciding to take him as a hostage instead.
“Let me go!” Duan Ling struggled furiously, jabbing his elbow into Helan Jie’s stomach.
As he fought his captor, he heard the crisp snap of fingers next to his ear.
A man in black lunged at Helan Jie from out of nowhere with a dizzying whirl of speed. His sword was aimed straight for Helan Jie’s throat, forcing Helan Jie onto the back foot. He faltered atop the wall, off-balance, and tumbled down into the yard. The man in black snatched Duan Ling from Helan Jie’s grasp in a flash and pulled him over.
Helian Bo and his men flooded into the yard, bewildered by the chaos, but the man in black had already scaled the wall with Duan Ling in his arms. Helan Jie roared with fury and launched himself over the wall in pursuit.