Grand Vendetta: Chapter Six
The Best Laid Plans
Dear readers: If you've been following this story, I've also edited (that is, improved) the previous chapter, for reasons of continuity of both plot and style. I think it's better than when it was first posted – I was in too much of a rush to update.
Nips: LOL – the caps must've been the result of the intensive screenwriting course I took. Caps are everywhere in screenplays: in scene headings, in dialogue (to denote emphasis), in stage directions…the habit must've stuck with me. My apologies.
I didn't expect to update this fast, but I just had to write this chapter – there are some delicious things in here! Enjoy, everybody!
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"Why did the tailor have to choose red, of all colors?"
Crimson with embarrassment and frustration, Liu Bei stood on a low tailor's stool in the middle of his dressing room as gold-encrusted armor and layer after layer of finely embroidered silk landed on his shoulders, arms and legs. It was the morning of his scheduled departure for Wu – for finally Zhuge Liang had browbeat him into accepting the offer of marriage, after endless pleading and then a few well-placed threats - and his expansive staterooms (normally kept empty and quiet, in accordance to his wishes) swarmed with activity. Valets in green rushed about, folding clothes and packing trunks in great haste; armory attendants were giving the Gold Moon Dragon a final polish; and no less than five dressers now hovered about Liu Bei himself, pinning the five voluminous layers of his formal robes to length, adjusting the clasps on his armor, and fastening jade weights to his sleeves and belt.
Zhuge Liang, an island of calm in the midst of this storm of travel preparation, fanned himself with a bored air.
"You're giving credit to the wrong person. I chose it for you."
"Why in heaven's name do you – " gasp – "always have to make every decision for me?" growled the Shu ruler, momentarily deprived of breath as one attendant tightened the jeweled belt around his waist.
"Red is the color of fortune and love," said the strategist placidly, not ruffled in the least by the threatening edge in Liu Bei's voice. "It's more appropriate than green, at any rate."
"But – but – red is Wu's color!" protested the Shu Emperor, cringing as he spoke as if the wearing of red were a heinous crime.
"Then it's all the more appropriate, isn't it? You're marrying into the Wu Imperial Family, after all. You should wear their color."
Unable to take any more sewing and fastening (he had lost count of the number of times he'd been stabbed by a stray needle or pin), Liu Bei leaped off the stool and angrily shooed his attendants away with a sawing motion of his arm.
"They should make their girl wear my color!" he snapped, billowing past Zhuge Liang in a storm of red and gold. "I'm a descendant of the Han Dynasty – and as far as imperial families go, mine's at least four centuries older!"
"I don't think anyone in the Sun family gives a rat's tail about how old the Han Dynasty is," replied Zhuge Liang with stinging frankness. He shrugged noncommittally, as if the gesture of nonchalance would somehow deflect the poisonous glare Liu Bei threw at him just then. "But maybe they did make her wear green. You two would look quite adorable together, having swapped colors."
Liu Bei fought the urge to roll his eyes at the low, ornately carved ceiling as he made a beeline for the full-length mirror in the opposite corner of the room.
"My God," he muttered, blushing furiously, when he had positioned himself in front of it. "I look ridiculous."
Across the room, Zhuge Liang frowned and cocked his head.
"Really?"
In a way, Liu Bei did look ridiculous: adorned in fiery red and gold, he stuck out like a sore thumb amid the dark, ebony-paneled walls and deep green drapes of his room. But his embarrassment was exaggerated, for in any other respect, he would have been the envy of every man in China who possessed the barest sense of style and glamour. His white-tasseled helmet had been replaced by a small gold headdress, adorned with pearls, which revealed his midnight black hair; his gold-encrusted armor depicted undulating waves and fiery ships (a not-so-subtle reference to Shu and Wu's joint victory at Chi Bi); the crimson trim of his tunic and sash was embroidered with rainbow thread and diamonds; and gold sea serpents with ruby eyes coiled around the calves of his boots. A black velvet cape, embroidered with five tigers (to represent his infamous group of generals), hung about his shoulders. All in all, the outfit was calculated to dazzle without any regard for modesty – to convince any suspicious noble or general in Wu that Liu Bei was indeed not as poor, or as drab, as his modest upbringing suggested.
"How do I look?" he asked, turning toward his strategist.
Zhuge Liang frowned, raised a hand to stroke his goatee, and swept Liu Bei's form from head to toe and back with eyes narrowed almost to slits.
"Very good," he proclaimed briskly, after an embarrassingly intense scrutiny and a very long, very tense pause.
It might've been the springy tone in which he'd said it, or the funny dance of his right eyebrow as the words came forth from his mouth, but to Liu Bei the verdict of his strategist sounded more like a sarcastic jab in disguise than a compliment.
Hating everything, Liu Bei kneaded the bridge of his nose with a hand and turned once more to the mirror.
"You know," he said mournfully, contemplating his reflection, "if I simply stopped shaving for a few days, and lay out on the riverbank to get my hair bleached and my skin tanned, I'll look sort of like Sun Jian."
Zhuge Liang raised an eyebrow.
"You make that sound like a horrible thing," he said.
Liu Bei seemed close to tears. His face fell into his hands.
"Of course it's a horrible thing! Do you know how awkward it would be for the poor girl? And add to that the fact that I am about Sun Jian's age!"
"Don't jump to conclusions, my lord," lilted the strategist, a glint of amusement sparkling in his eye. "One of the more interesting things Yue Ying has taught me is that girls prefer men like their fathers."
Liu Bei did not know whether he wanted to throttle Zhuge Liang for that remark, or to collapse in a ball in front of the mirror and bury his head in his lap, so he would no longer be able to see his reflection and think with mortification of how unnervingly he resembled his friend and rival the Emperor of Wu. He settled instead for a compromise between the two extremes: stomping out of his staterooms, saving any last shreds of dignity he possessed.
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Meanwhile, in another wing of the Shu villa, a larger gathering of an even testier and more somber nature was taking place.
The precise location of the meeting in question was in fact the Shu Cabinet Room: a large, low-ceilinged, perfectly square room, decorated with lacquered murals of bamboo forests and lit dimly with oil lamps. The only piece of furniture in this perpetually dim room was a huge, circular table, hollow in the center, large enough to seat fifteen people around its circumference. At this moment, Shu's entire host of generals – minus Zhuge Liang and Liu Bei – were gathered about this table, each person in his or her specially appointed chair; and Yue Ying felt positively wretched as she labored to keep this large, angry gathering calm.
"What do you mean, we can't all go?!" hollered Zhang Fei.
"We can't expect to trust Wu completely," said Ma Chao angrily. "It's absolutely necessary that we give Lord Liu Bei all the protection he can get."
"It's Zhuge Liang's express orders – only one bodyguard," repeated Yue Ying desperately, for the fifth time. "And really, I think he has a point. He's going over there to get married. We don't want his hosts thinking that we mistook their invitation to marry for an invitation to invade!"
"Ten generals does not make an invasion!" growled Huang Zhong, baring his teeth. "It's simply a matter of fulfilling our duty to protect our liege."
"And really, why can't we attend his wedding?" pleaded Jiang Wei. "We're his best friends and most devoted followers – we should be entitled to attend the most important event in our liege's life!"
"With the exception of the coronation ceremony on the day he becomes Emperor of all China," added Guan Yu pointedly.
Yue Ying threw her hands over her head, overcome with exasperation.
"Because – !" she began to shout.
"Because I say so," said a chillingly calm voice at that very moment, "and because I expect you all to trust my judgment."
Yue Ying froze. Everyone whipped around. Zhuge Liang stood at the door of the cabinet room, his white robes and fan glowing eerily in the faint light. All talk ceased at once. Only one person in Shu was brave enough to argue against the Sleeping Dragon when it came to orders, and at the moment that person was too relieved at his sudden appearance to think of doing so.
"What took you so long?" said Yue Ying peevishly, wiping her forehead. "I was waiting for you for half an hour."
"Is the ship ready, Lord Ma Chao?" asked Zhuge Liang, ignoring his wife.
Before Ma Chao could respond, Yue Ying grabbed Zhuge Liang's collar and forced him to look at her.
"Zhuge Kongming Liang, I spend half an hour defending your orders on the bodyguard business and trying to keep everyone from getting out of this room so they can hunt down your sorry ass, and you ignore me?!"
"Lord Ma Chao," repeated Zhuge Liang stubbornly, trying his best to twist himself around so he could see the person he addressed, "is the ship –""
His sentence ended in a howl as Yue Ying dealt him a slap squarely on the face.
"Don't – you - dare – carry on again without acknowledging me first!" she snarled. "I've had enough of being treated like the wallpaper in front of you!"
The rest of the assembly stared upon this altercation in shock. Massaging the red mark on his cheek furiously, Zhuge Liang, teeth gritted in mortification, yanked Yue Ying toward him.
"Good morning, darling," he huffed, making sure to give Yue Ying an exaggeratingly sentimental kiss on the cheek. "Might I say that you look wonderful today." He then released her – or, more accurately, flung her away. "Happy now?"
"Hmph," Yue Ying grunted.
Zhuge Liang sought Ma Chao one more time. "The ship – "
"Is ready to go," blurted out Ma Chao, staring at Yue Ying with round eyes.
"Where's Lord Liu Bei?" asked Zhao Yun quite suddenly, in an attempt to divert everyone's attention from the marital spat that had just occurred.
"Supposedly heading out for the ship right now," answered Zhuge Liang, fanning himself vigorously (for rubbing his face did not very effectively remove the red mark on his face). "But it never hurts to make sure."
Striding to the Cabinet Room door, he flung it open and called, "Find Lord Liu Bei!" to the wardens that perpetually stood at attention on the outside.
"Now," he said, returning to the party at the table, "about that bothersome bodyguard business – "
"I'll go!" shouted Zhang Fei, leaping up.
"No, I should be the one to go!" retaliated Huang Zhong, also leaping up and pushing his chair back for good measure (for he felt he had to outdo Zhang Fei in dramatic delivery).
"I insist upon myself!" proclaimed Guan Yu, getting up and knocking his chair over.
Other generals leapt to their feet (with varying degrees of success at sounding convincingly passionate), and soon the air was filled with shouts and insults over why so-and-so was a better option than the last person to speak.
"Step aside, old man!" Zhang Fei bellowed at Huang Zhong. "We need someone of sharp mind and wit to protect Brother Bei from that fox Zhou Yu, not someone who's starting to get senile!"
The gray-haired general swelled like a bullfrog and turned beet red.
"Why, I'll show you senility, Zhang Fei!" he roared back. "Just wait 'till I give your head a bashing – you'll have trouble remembering what you had for breakfast for the rest of your sorry life!"
"You – "
"Gentlemen – gentlemen – I think we ought to, you know, pull bamboo sticks or something," suggested Pang Tong meekly, his comparatively gentle voice thinned to a whisper by the rising clamor around him. No one listened to him.
"Silence!" hollered Zhuge Liang. "Silence!!"
Amazingly, everyone stopped shouting, completely startled by the sound of the strategist's smooth and perpetually calm voice raised two entire octaves in pitch. Zhang Fei and Huang Zhong looked around at the same time, frozen in a rather uncompromising posture in the middle of the wrestling match that had erupted between the two.
"If you were polite enough to not speak out turn and listen," said Zhuge Liang testily, giving each and every general a menacing glare in turn, "Master Pang Tong has just proposed a very judicious idea on how to select a bodyguard. Fortunately, though, I already have a method of selection in place – an even fairer one, I daresay."
Yue Ying narrowed her eyes at her husband, sensing more of his devilry afoot.
"What are you up to now?" she asked suspiciously.
Zhuge Liang shot her a pointed look that read, "You'll see soon enough," and snapped his fingers.
Almost immediately, an orderly entered the room, his face blocked by a mountainous pile of scrolls. A secondly orderly followed from behind, carrying a giant cylindrical pot filled with calligraphy brushes. Both stumbled in as if drunk, unable to see past the giant piles they were carrying, and before Zhuge Liang could give them further guidance, the second orderly rammed into the first, causing the latter to trip and drop his payload like a bundle of hay.
Zhuge Liang sighed as the orderly crashed to the floor and bamboo scrolls rolled about his feet.
"Everyone who wants to go, grab a scroll and a brush," he said, picking up his robes and stepping over the fallen man with an annoyed look on his face. "You have five minutes to finish what's on them and return them to me. Good luck."
A mad scramble ensued. Zhang Fei and Huang Zhong belly-dived upon the scattered pile of scrolls as the second orderly dropped the pot of brushes like a load of burning coals and bolted; others soon crowded in, some (like the lithe Jiang Wei) crouching down and trying to reach through a forest of legs for the scrolls, others (like Wei Yan) forcing their way toward the center by sheer force and by, occasionally, picking up and tossing aside those who stood in their way. Only Zhao Yun, perhaps the most patient of Shu's Tiger Generals, hung behind at the table until everyone else had retrieved their materials.
"Don't want to go, Zilong?" asked Zhuge Liang, raising an eyebrow at the only stationary general in the room.
Sighing, Zhao Yun stood up and made his way toward the site of carnage. One last scroll - a sorry, battered-looking thing - and one last brush, squeezed entirely of ink and bent irreversibly by someone's foot, lay where a dozen scrolls and a dozen brushes used to lie. Picking both up, he plopped down onto the nearest seat at the table, and untied the string holding the scroll together.
Neatly printed characters were inscribed inside.
Application for Bodyguard Duties to Lord Liu Bei in the Kingdom of Wu
Your Name Here
Directions: For each of the following questions, select the best answer.
Multiple Choice (10 points)
1. The man who most closely assists the bridegroom at the wedding ceremony is called:
a. The best man
b. The worst man
c. No man
d. Everyman
e. The unlucky man
2. Before the marriage ceremony, what is forbidden between the betrothed?
a. Sharing a meal
b. Conversing
c. Physical contact
e. Visual contact
e. All of the above
3. Which of the following…
Further below that….
Free Response (15 points)
1. To whom, and in what order must the couple pay their respects during the ceremony? Be as specific as possible.
2. Suppose the bridegroom lifts the bride's veil and takes a peek at her before bridegroom and bride are safely ensconced in the wedding chamber. What sort of punishment is appropriate for the bridegroom in this case?
3. Does the tradition of the wedding night prank still exist? If it does, describe it to the fullest extent possible. If not, explain why it was discontinued.
4. …
Widening in incredulity, Zhao Yun's eyes drifted further and further down the exam scroll, until he saw the very last question, which was printed in tiny handwriting on the bottommost extremity of the last strip of bamboo:
True/False
The Sun Family complied with all traditional marriage customs in their proposal to Lord Liu Bei.
(Compose your answer on reverse. Pertinent evidence and analysis must be provided.)
Three seats away, Zhang Fei gave something in between a howl of fury and a harrumph of contempt. "What?! An exam? Are bodyguards supposed to be bookworms now?"
"What does knowing about etiquette have anything to do with defending our lord's life?" whined Ma Chao, to peeved exclamations and gruff sounds of assent from the rest of the company.
"Silence!" spat Zhuge Liang. "The next person who talks will be barred for sure from going!"
"Power whore," muttered Yue Ying, glaring the dirtiest of dirty looks at her husband.
Sighing, Zhao Yun wetted the tip of his brush with his tongue and began to scribble away.
A timid knock sounded on the door, and Zhuge Liang threw the door open to reveal a very nervous-looking warden.
"Did you find Lord Liu Bei?" he asked, before the warden could speak himself.
"A-actually," stammered the man, "no, your Excellency."
Zhuge Liang's eyes widened. "He's not at the pier?"
"No, sir. He's nowhere to be found."
Before Yue Ying could open her mouth to protest (for she'd had enough babysitting for one day), Zhuge Liang had fled once more, leaving her alone with a dozen very stumped, very frustrated test-takers in the Shu Cabinet Room.
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It only turned out that Liu Bei, consumed by a last merciless bout of nerves, had taken extra long in tidying his bedroom (he had insisted on doing it himself, instead of letting his valets take care of the job, as was customary), and was much slower than everyone else in getting out to the dignitary's docks in front of the Shu villa. By the time he finally emerged, dragging his face like lead weights, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, all the test-takers had finished, Yue Ying had finished grading the scrolls (in addition to giving Zhuge Liang another sound slapping for abandoning her a second time), and the entire Shu company had gathered at the top of the staircase at the front entrance of the Villa in order to see their Emperor off.
"You all right, brother?" asked Guan Yu, as a very white-faced Liu Bei walked very shakily down the staircase.
"Uh, yeah…perfectly fine," replied the Shu liege, his trembling voice completely betraying him.
About five steps down from the top, he halted, as if suddenly consumed by a very urgent, very horrible thought.
"You know, I think I forgot – "
Before finishing his sentence he was already bolting back up the staircase, his embroidered cape whirling as he raced up the steps two at a time. He did not make it back to the top: ten generals descended upon him at that moment, blocking the way to the landing, hemming him in at the sides, surrounding him like a cocoon.
"What are you doing?" the Shu lord demanded angrily. "Out of my way!"
Zhang Fei took Liu Bei's right hand in his own.
"Brother," he said, in what he apparently thought was a very soothing and reassuring voice – it actually came out in a gruff bark, like he always sounded. "It's going to be all right."
"You'll be fine," wheedled Guan Yu, taking Liu Bei's left arm. "Now let's get on the boat."
In a synchronized effort, both he and Zhang Fei twirled Liu Bei around, like experienced ballroom dancers throwing a partner into a spin, and began tugging him down the steps once more.
"I –forgot – something – important!" cried Liu Bei, flailing as his generals pressed on him from behind.
"We'll get someone else to take care of it," said Ma Chao over his shoulder. "We don't want you to be late to Wu."
"No – you don't understand – " howled Liu Bei.
At the bottom of the staircase, off to one side, Zhuge Liang stood watching the faraway scuffle with a mixture of amusement at the comical sight and pity for his lord. Seeing that it would take quite a while for the knot of struggling people to get to the bottom of the staircase, however (for Liu Bei was mounting quite a desperate opposition), he turned his attention back to the pier in the distance, and the ship that lay docked at it. The Jolly Phoenix – for that was the name of the vessel taking Liu Bei to the capital of Wu – rose gently up and down in the river tide, its many multicolored banners dancing jauntily in the breeze. A single, long green pennant – Liu Bei's personal standard – floated like a thin ribbon of emerald at the top of the central mast; and at the moment, tiny sailors the size of pinpricks darted about on deck, unfurling the sails currently wrapped about the nine tall masts.
Sighing, he turned his gaze from the festively decorated ship to the wide expanse of the river. There was not a single cloud overhead today, and the sun shined down upon a vast corridor of pale green and brown water, a-glitter with diamonds of reflected light. A blue haze in the sky veiled the soft border between river and sky; but if Zhuge Liang squinted hard enough, and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun with his fan, he fancied he could see, lying along that imaginary line in the indistinguishable distance, the low, milky suggestion of mountains – the territory of the Kingdom of Wu.
It all looked so faraway, so mysterious and romantic from where he stood, in humdrum Caisang; and yet he, Zhuge Liang, had been there before – been to Wu, in fact lived there for nearly a year, a guest of honor in the court of Sun Jian. It had been during the months leading up to the Battle of Chi Bi, and he was in Jian Ye working on a way to hold Cao Cao's advance with Sun Quan and Zhou Yu. Briefly a wave of memories overtook him – vaguely exciting memories (for back then he had believed that the Shu-Wu alliance was a grand thing and worth fighting for), and faintly bitter memories (for he now knew that any alliance now between the two kingdoms would have to be built purely on shared fear of Cao Cao, not mutual liking or something even remotely similar to that).
Somewhere, beyond those watercolor mountains, Zhou Yu was scheming, planning his next move against the Shu. Briefly a feeling akin to anger stirred within the depths of Zhuge Liang's habitually tranquil heart. He, Zhuge Liang, had never thought of Zhou Yu as a rival; indeed, he liked Zhou Yu very much, found his knack for finesse and style fascinating, and admired even more his talent for music and poetry. He had wanted so much to become friends with the talented Wu strategist, and oppose Cao Cao's relentless campaign to swallow the land side by side. They had so much in common, anyway, and Zhou Yu had seemed so pleasant and affable at their first meeting.
But no. Zhou Yu, not to be bested or even matched by anyone, insisted on being Zhuge Liang's rival. It seemed he wanted to see Zhuge Liang fail more than he wanted even to see his own kingdom unify the land. Given how serious and vehement he was in his perceived rivalry, Liang had no choice but to play along, lest Shu suffer as a consequence of his unwillingness to compete. He had to counter scheme with scheme. He had to use whatever unscrupulous methods he could to prevent Jingzhou from being returned to the Sun family. And now he had to humiliate Zhou Yu once more so that Liu Bei wouldn't get killed or captured in Wu…
"Excuse me, sir?"
Roused abruptly from his reverie, Zhuge Liang spun around. Zhao Yun stood nervously before him, wearing a half-curious, half-mystified expression.
"Miss Yue Ying said you wanted to see me," added the general, when Zhuge Liang didn't immediately register why he was there. "About…something."
"Oh, yes, Zhilong!" he exclaimed, when he finally remembered. "Congratulations. You're to be Lord Liu Bei's bodyguard."
The only sounds to be heard in the next few moments were the sharp, gutteral screams of a few seagulls overhead, the faint shouts of sailors' orders from the pier, and the continuing roar of the wide Chang Jiang. Zhao Yun's mouth fell open as he stared blankly and unbelievingly at Zhuge Liang.
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"You're. His. Bodyguard," repeated Zhuge Liang, loudly and clearly, somewhat annoyed at Zhao Yun's dazedness. "You've earned the highest score on the quiz. Is there anything about that you can't understand?"
"But…I don't know anything about wedding etiquette! I guessed on over half the questions!"
"But you know enough," replied Liang firmly, his tone of voice very final and authoritative. "You were the only person in that room who answered the last question correctly."
Zhao Yun's eyes widened.
"The statement really was false?"
"Completely and utterly. And your reasoning was correct too. There's no tradition in existence that calls for the bride to be married in her homeland. A bride is supposed to be sent off to her husband and married wherever her husband lives."
"Oh – wonderful!" Zhao Yun stroked his chin, feeling, for the first time in a long while, quite pleased with himself.
Then he realized that being specially selected for a task, according to dubious standards – and even more suspiciously, by Zhuge Liang's express design – was not necessarily something to be pleased about at all. His hand dropped from his chin. So did his smile.
"Are you trying to get at something here?" asked the general suspiciously, frowning at Zhuge Liang. "You wrote an entire quiz but cared only about the answer to the very last question."
To Zhao Yun's immense surprise, Zhuge Liang clapped his hands and cackled in delight upon his words.
"You are smarter than your head-butting, spear smashing counterparts!" he exclaimed, though the dubious compliment drew only an even odder look from Zhao Yun. "My whole point is that it is highly unusual for the Sun family to invite Liu Bei to Wu to get married. If they were serious about tradition – as they claim they are – they would've sent Princess Shang Xiang over to Caisang, dressed and dolled up like a present – not invited our man over."
"But they did ask Liu Bei to come over," Zhao Yun continued, picking right up on Zhuge Liang's train of thought, "so…they must have set some sort of trap for him." He paused and drew in a long breath, realizing the horrible. "They must be planning to harm him in some way!"
"That statement is a little broad…and generic," said Zhuge Liang delicately, cringing slightly at Zhao Yun's overly dramatic delivery. "But it's essentially accurate. They want him dead or captured. And your job is to prevent either case."
"Shall I stay awake at night and sit on the windowsill of his bedroom?"
"That's hardly necessary. The conniving folks at Wu aren't brainless enough to take our liege out by conventional means. They'll try to get him when you least expect it. You must keep your eyes and ears peeled."
"But what about Zhou Yu?" asked Zhao Yun worriedly. "I might be able to hold him off on the battlefield, but I'm no match for him intellect-wise."
"Which brings me to my next point," said Zhuge Liang. "I'm not about to let you go off totally unequipped."
Reaching into his robes, he pulled out three small, lacquered boxes. Zhao Yun stared at them curiously. Their flat, delicate shape and intricate carving reminded him in some strong way of the containers ladies kept cosmetics in.
"What are those?"
"More precisely, it's what's inside you should be curious about," corrected Zhuge Liang. "This is Plan the First – " he held up the box with a carving of a goldfish – "Plan the Second" – he showed the next box, which displayed a galloping horse – "and Plan the Third" – he waved the final box, adorned with the figure of a coiled dragon, apparently in deep sleep.
"I don't think I follow…" said Zhao Yun slowly, growing more and more bewildered by the second.
"My instructions are simple enough. Open these boxes when you fall into a situation that you absolutely – I repeat, absolutely without a doubt - cannot get out of. There will be instructions inside that you must follow. And one more thing - open them only in the order I've prescribed, or else they won't work."
Zhao Yun took the proffered boxes and inspected each gingerly, as if they carried jewels of staggering value, lethal poisons, explosives or articles of a comparatively exotic nature.
"Keep them in a safe place," instructed Zhuge Liang. "The last thing you'd want is for someone to take them away from you. And don't open them now!"
Nearly dropping the box he was trying to open, Zhao Yun nodded embarrassedly and hastily stuffed the boxes into his waist piece.
A spattering of shouts made both men turn around. The human cocoon that contained Liu Bei had inched its way down nearly to the bottom of the staircase, and at the moment Liu Bei was fighting as hard as ever against the pulling and tugging of his generals. He had dropped his pretense of having forgotten something critical in his room, and was openly shouting:
"I don't want to go! There must be some other way to make an alliance! I don't have to marry a complete stranger! She doesn't have to marry a complete stranger!"
"Really, my lord," said Zhuge Liang, approaching the struggling pile of generals and staring through the gap between Wei Yan and Huang Zhong at a pair of frightened brown eyes, "this is no different from any other engagement or treaty negotiation you've entered into. You must do this, for Shu's sake. For your people's sake. You've never shrunk from doing anything for your people, have you?"
"I don't care!" bawled Liu Bei, flailing his arms. "I'd fight my way through a hundred battles and sit through a hundred negotiations before I do this!"
Zhuge Liang, apparently convinced that Liu Bei could no longer be convinced, sighed and raised his fan – a secret gesture.
"Master Pang Tong, if you please."
"With no pleasure, but I'll do it anyway," drawled Pang Tong in reply.
A small bolt of lightning about the length of a walking cane suddenly appeared out of thin air above the middle of the struggling group, and struck Liu Bei squarely on the chest. The surrounding generals shrieked and scattered as the bolt disappeared in an explosive boom. Liu Bei himself dropped limply to the staircase like a sack of potatoes and rolled down the remaining ten steps onto the ground.
"How dare you!" cried Yue Ying, horrified, after the most awful pause in the history of Time – she had been pushing Liu Bei from behind. "You attacked our Emperor!"
"Carry him onto the boat," said Zhuge Liang wearily, gesturing with his fan from the band of shocked, frozen generals to the Jolly Phoenix. He turned to his wife. "Really, I had no other choice."
It took a while to recover from the suddenness of Zhuge Liang's order (and the deafening, dazing effect of the thunderbolt), but several of the stronger male generals collaborated to pick Liu Bei up and bear him toward the pier. Zhao Yun followed Liu Bei's prone form, patting his waist piece awkwardly – the boxes formed an odd lump near his stomach.
Before Zhao Yun could walk out of reach, Zhuge Liang strode over and clapped a hand onto his arm.
"Keep your head high and your senses about you," he whispered, giving the general a loaded but trusting look. "I'm counting on you to bring him – and his wife - back safely."
"You can count on me, sir," said Zhao Yun firmly.
Zhuge Liang gave him an amicable blow on the shoulder and released him.
The remaining Shu party clambered onto the wooden pier as Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Wei Yan tottered awkwardly up the gangplank with the unconscious Liu Bei. Then Zhao Yun walked up the gangplank, the tassels on his spear and his cape furling in the strong river breeze. The Jolly Phoenix was all but ready to depart; all her sails were unfurled, the coxswain was shouting orders, and sailors on the pier were undoing her moorings.
"Have a safe journey – and don't forget to have fun!" shouted Zhuge Liang, as Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Huang Zhong leapt down from the ship's decks as the gangplank was retracted.
"Take good care of our master!" hollered Ma Chao.
"Say hello to the pretty bride for us!" yelled Pang Tong.
Zhao Yun waved energetically at his friends on the pier, looking very lonely and forlorn despite his wide smile as he stood by himself at the railing of the departing Jolly Phoenix.
When the immense silhouette of Liu Bei's ship had shrunk to a pale dot on the horizon, Yue Ying nudged Zhuge Liang in the ribs.
"Why didn't you tell him how you were planning to save him?" she said. "He would've at least been willing to walk onto that boat all by himself."
"It ruins the fun," replied Zhuge Liang demurely, fanning himself despite the fact that there was already a strong breeze bathing them at the moment. "And besides, I wouldn't want anyone in Wu to divine it. Liu Bei has to be taken by surprise as much as Zhou Yu."
"But he's scared for his life!" whispered Yue Ying. "For good reason!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Liang, waving his fan in an expansive gesture. "He has nothing to fear. His life is safe as can be."
Yue Ying raised an eyebrow and gave her husband a challenging glare.
"You'd better stand by what you said. Otherwise…"
"What?" said Zhuge Liang, raising an eyebrow in a similarly challenging manner.
Yue Ying paused momentarily and rummaged about for a phrase that was sufficiently intimidating.
"Your ass…is grass."
"Sweetheart," said Zhuge Liang, fixing Yue Ying with a look halfway between superciliousness and devious amusement, "you know nothing about grassing one's backside."
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Next Chapter: Liu Bei thinks Zhuge Liang has informed the Sun family of his arrival, but in reality, Zhuge Liang hasn't. What will the Wu reaction be to Liu Bei's sudden appearance on their side of the river? I'll be out of the country from July 1st-13th so no updates until mid-July, but stay tuned anyway!
Please please review! It takes only a few seconds and I love reading them!