Chapter 979 — Fifth Brother

CHAPTER 979

Fifth Brother

“Fourth Sister!” Long Zhenlei shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

The shout came up before the man did. The lamp on the table swung on its chain, and a thin crackle ran along the iron bracket that held it.

Long Caili didn’t look up from her page.

“Fifth Brother,” Long Caili said. “Sit down. You’re shaking the lamp.”

Long Zhenlei came through the door and sat at once, on the nearest stool, with his elbows on his knees. Xie Yuejian came in behind him and stood by the wall. She didn’t sit, and she didn’t speak.

The tower’s upper room was small. Long Caili sat at the head of the table in plain dark blue, still veiled, with a stack of papers at her elbow. Shi Feng sat on her left. Yan Lianbi sat at the foot with his brush and a fresh sheet, because a Pavilion law-steward wrote down every meeting a guest elder attended, even one with a prince in it.

Long Zhenlei looked at Shi Feng, then at his sister.

“He’s at your table,” Long Zhenlei said bluntly.

“He’s my guest,” Long Caili said, turning a page. “Where else would he sit?”

“You came all this way north to sit in a chair and not talk,” Long Zhenlei said. “Third Brother says you’ve lost your mind.”

“Does he?” Long Caili said.

She took one paper from the stack. It was the commission’s copy of his appointment, with the court’s yellow seal at the bottom. She read one line from it aloud.

“‘Fifth Brother is the most impartial of us. He cares only for fighting,’” Long Caili read. She set the paper down and laid her hand flat on it. “Whoever wrote that knows you very well.”

“It’s true,” Long Zhenlei said.

“That’s what makes it dangerous,” Long Caili said. “Listen to me, Fifth Brother. Until a finding is signed, Master Shi is the accused under Long law, and you’re the Long seat. If you fight him before the verdict, the court won’t call it a fight. It will say a man under inquiry struck a prince of the blood. Or it will say a prince of the blood beat a man the law was still hearing. Either way it’s a blow at the imperial blood, and someone will be punished for it. Spilled water can’t be gathered up again.”

“Not me,” Long Zhenlei said.

“No. Not you,” Long Caili said. “Him. And then me, for standing surety.”

Long Zhenlei frowned and rubbed one of his lightning scars with his thumb.

“And after the verdict?” Long Zhenlei asked.

“After the finding is signed, he’s a free guest elder of the Sky Pavilion,” Long Caili said, “and you’re a prince who asked him for a spar. Nobody can make a crime out of that. If the terms are written down first.”

Yan Lianbi wrote that down. Shi Feng watched the princess and said nothing.

Shi Feng understood the recommendation now. The Third Prince knew his little brother would want to fight. If Long Zhenlei struck before the verdict, the commission could use the clash against both Shi Feng and Long Caili. His honesty made him easy to provoke.

Long Caili hadn’t said the Third Prince’s name once. She didn’t need to.

“I already said so,” Long Zhenlei said, sounding offended. “At the gate. I told him to his face. I don’t fight the accused.”

“I know,” Long Caili said. “I’m saying it so it’s written.”

Long Zhenlei looked at Yan Lianbi’s brush, then back at his sister.

“Then why bring a surety’s chair to a fighting city?” Long Zhenlei asked. “You could have sent a letter.”

“The Gu stand with you,” Long Caili said evenly. “Master Xuanyuan backs you. I’d like both of them to stay friendly with me after this. If my guest breaks your arm in a yard with no terms, they won’t be.”

Long Zhenlei turned and grinned at Shi Feng.

“Could you break it?” Long Zhenlei asked.

“We’ll find out if we fight, Your Highness,” Shi Feng said with a faint smile. “You don’t look as though you’d be happy with a gentle spar.”

Long Zhenlei laughed, so loudly that the lamp swung again.

“Then write the terms well,” Xie Yuejian said from the wall.

It was the first thing she’d said since she came in. Everyone looked at her. She didn’t add anything.

Long Zhenlei stood up, satisfied.

“Ten days after the verdict, then,” Long Zhenlei said. “Or five. Five is enough. Fourth Sister, your stove’s too small. I’m going to the Lantern Guard’s yard to break their training posts.” He stopped at the door and looked back at Shi Feng. “Tomorrow, with the Linghu boy. I’m sitting on the wall. Don’t be boring.”

He went down the stairs three at a time. Xie Yuejian bowed once to the princess and followed him. The iron bracket stopped crackling.

Long Caili gathered her papers.

“The Linghu boy is late Shattering Void,” Long Caili said, without looking at him. “He trained with his brother for nine years. His clan art is the Night-Folding Blade. It puts out lamps.”

“I’ve met the family art,” Shi Feng said.

“Then you know,” Long Caili said, and stood.

She left with her two guards. Shi Feng heard her stop on the landing below and speak to the tower’s night steward, too quietly to make out. Then her steps went down and out.

Half an hour later the night steward knocked and bowed in with a list.

“Her Highness has asked the tower to stock the guest furnace room, Master Shi,” the night steward said politely. “These are the herbs. They’ll come up from the market tomorrow.”

Shi Feng read it. Purple Thunder-Root. Burnt Cloud Moss. Storm Willow Bark. Twelve kinds in all, every one of them a herb for drawing thunder qi out of burnt meridians.

There was no bout. Nobody had agreed to one. The prince had been in the room for less than a quarter of an hour.

“Who’s paying for these?” Shi Feng asked.

“Her Highness signed for them herself, Master Shi,” the night steward said.

Yan Lianbi, still at the foot of the table, very carefully didn’t write that down.

Shi Feng folded the list carefully. He was touched, though she hadn’t admitted any worry before leaving. She’d already made sure he’d have what he needed if the thunder fist injured him.

Down in the court’s yard across the street, the Linghu were already hanging the lamps.