Sholin Temple

Hunting the Great Cat

Liang entered the room in near silence, as did Wei. But Mistress Min-Xi hobbled, and her wooden-soled shoes clapped against the bamboo planks announcing her presence. Syrsha had expected them and welcomed the break in silence. An hour before she had sent Aldric and Otieno away, and Gregorr had just gone. Each had offered advice and warning, even the fennidi. She could hear no more, despite their good intentions.

As the two dressmakers fitted her one final time, Syrsha called to Liang, "You have made the arrangements?"

When the woman nodded, Syrsha stated, "The others will question you without mercy. Gregorr will be of some assistance in explaining what must next be done."

Wei, unaware of what the two had been discussing in Common, clasped her hand to her mouth and, with muffled words, said, "It is even more beautiful than when last I saw it."

"And to think the girl will wear such a gown into the arena," Min-Xi admonished, patting at Syrsha's hips in gentle scolding.

"Never before have I had so many watching," Syrsha sighed.

"Show her," the Mistress clucked at her assistant, who unwrapped a window-sized looking glass from squares of fabric.

As Wei lifted the glass high, Syrsha glanced at her reflection.

"What of my hair?" she asked, much to the women's surprise.

There was little that she could say, for it was not her first time seeing the gown. But she could not tell the women as much, for they would not understand how she had long remembered what only was just finished.

"I have some skill with braids and the like," Wei told her, lowering the heavy glass.

The dress, deceiving its appearance, moved with ease, clinging to Syrsha's body as she stepped forward and slunk to her knees. Around her high cheeks, tresses curved, like snakes against marble. Wei pulled long, thin pins from her own hair and placed them between her lips. Next, she reached for Syrsha's hair and began twisting it between her slender fingers, looping it as if she were tying strands together. She had not finished when Master Ru's voice could be heard nearing.

"It will do," Syrsha whispered. "Now hurry off to your seats."

Liang escorted Wei and Min-Xi toward a door at the rear of the room. Moments later, Ru strode in unaccompanied, which Syrsha had not expected. His eyes widened as he noticed the gown.

"The Emperor is here, along with a thousand others," he stuttered.

"I need no armor," she told him, squeezing the mandrake root between her fist to conceal it.

"Even now you show no humility."

"I face the laohu on even ground, without weapon, iron, or leather. Is that not humility enough?"

Groaning with resignation, Ru told her, "You will live. Or you will die. It matters naught what you wear. Come, Syrsha, it is time."

Following him from the room and back into the main hallway, Syrsha uncurled her fingers. With her gaze watching to make certain that the shihon did not turn, Syrsha lifted her empty hand to her hair. Her fingers separated the largest of Wei's plaits, and, just as quickly, her other hand hid the mandrake among the twined hair. She shook her head quickly to test that the root would not dislodge, and then walked briskly until she was at Ru's side.

"You will enter the arena first and be allowed some time to take position. On my call, the laohu will be released."

Her eyes were shards of gemstones as she asked, "What is the name of the great cat?"

He seemed unwilling to answer, but soon said, "Jao-Yang. A male laohu who is new to the arena."

"Jao-Yang? Named for the sun," she reasoned.

Over the chatter of the unseen crowd, Ru said, "The rising sun."

"The tale of this battle deepens, Master Ru," she told him, bowing slightly.

They stood just outside the arena, behind an iron-worked gate. Through the metal posts, Syrsha saw the stone-paved floor, gray and faded by moon years of sun and smoothed by wind. She did not look up; her gaze held steady on those stones. Syrsha knew where Otieno, Aldric, Sharron, and Gregorr would be seated. Just as she knew that Liang's hired mercenaries stood just behind them, rows back and hidden, waiting and watching. The arena, used by all in Dengxi, permitted weapons, although few Tiannese would carry such, she knew.

She wanted no harm to come to them, yet she could not risk their inference, not with all that must occur for her plans to succeed. The men had been instructed to never draw weapon, even if threatened. Instead, they must offer warning that others would be injured or killed if a battle raged so near the crowded arena.

It had to be enough, she reminded herself, loosening her shoulders and stretching her legs.

"Your dress," Master Ru mumbled, causing her to look to him.

"I only now realized what it resembles," he continued, breathlessly. "You fight as Chang-a, moon goddess and ruler of the night sky."

Shaking her head, she told him, "I fight as Syrsha, daughter of Caryss, a healer who vowed to harm none."

Before Ru could object, Syrsha unlatched the gate and rushed into the arena. Behind her, the sheer, shimmering fabric trailed, like starfall.

Screams and cheers erupted, thunderous and echoing. Like rolling waves, the noise rippled and crested. Some chanted, although Syrsha could not understand the words. Only when they quieted did she know that the great cat came.

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