… Memories of watching Yu Mao on the day of his Blessing Ceremony, of playing with him in the garden, of lessons together, of trapping frogs and fireflies before the heir of Kuang grew too dignified for such things You're talking about murdering your brother, Tycho had said and he had insisted, Better me than a stranger; better me than no one at all. Courts, justice, tradition all agreed-but, in the end, his heart did not.
"I can't do it," Li hissed finally in Shou. His blade trembled. "Do you hear that, Yu Mao? I have ached for this halfway across the world and now… " Yu Mao said nothing, just stayed stone still. "Tycho," breathed Li. "Take off his hood."
The bard stepped away from the writhing form of Yu Mao's young woman, moved next to Yu Mao cautiously, and reached up and pulled off the leather hood.
Breath caught in Li's throat. Memories, love, and conflict all suddenly collapsed, shriveling like paper in a flame.
Round Western eyes. Thin, gold-brown hair. Pale skin. The man before him was not Yu Mao.
Li's arms and legs shook. His shoulders tensed. The muscles of his belly heaved and knotted. A voice-his- rasped in hollow agony.
The Hooded moved suddenly, grabbing at his sword arm and thrusting him away. An elbow lashed back and caught Tycho in the jaw. The bard cried out and staggered. Li barely noticed.
Not Yu Mao.
With a wild roar, he dropped his sword and grabbed the Hooded with his bare hands. Fingers knotted in the Westerner's tunic and pulled him close-Li snapped his head forward, smashing his forehead against the Hooded's. The Hooded swayed. Li lifted him off his feet and slammed him back into the nearest wall. "Where is my brother?" he howled. "Where is Yu Mao?" He clamped a hand tight around the Hooded's throat to hold him upright while he drove the other into his belly.
Tycho was like a mosquito hovering on the edge of his awareness, his voice an annoying whine. Li shrugged him aside and hammered his fist into the Hooded's belly again. The mosquito gasped and its whine changed to song. Light flashed suddenly between him and the Hooded. Li threw up his arm to shield his eyes and staggered back.
Hands grabbed him and gave him a sharp slap across the face.
"Li!" yelled Tycho. "Li, look at me!" Another stinging slap. "Look at me!"
Li blinked and focused. Tycho was hanging onto his shirt front. His face was white. The room was silent. Even the Hooded's interpreter had stopped her struggling. Li looked beyond Tycho.
The unmasked Hooded slumped motionless against the wall. Blood was trickling down from a cut on his forehead. Li swallowed hard. His anger ebbed a little and he glanced up at Tycho. He wasn't sure what he intended to say, but what came out was, "He's not Yu Mao."
"No,'"Iycho agreed. "He's not. Another couple of punches, though, and you might have killed him anyway."
Li's stomach lurched. "I wasn't going to. When I thought he was Yu Mao "
"I know," said Tycho. "I could tell. Let's see who he really is."
He let go of Li's shirt, went to the unconscious man, and pushed his head back against the wall. The pale face that turned up-eyes lolling half-open, mouth slack-was a ruin. And not from Li's fists. Scars marked his face. Some seemed deliberate. Two short horizontal lines stood out under each eye and a double row of round dots marched across his forehead. The massive scars that tore across his cheeks and drew his lips into a twisted sneer could hardly have been intentional, though. Tycho touched one then the other. "Something went straight through," he said. He peered into the man's mouth. "He's missing a lot of teeth.His tongue "He shuddered.
Li looked to the Hooded's interpreter. Seeing her master so savagely beaten had taken the fight out of her. He moved over and dragged her closer, tugging the makeshift gag out of her mouth. "What did that?" he asked.
"An arrow."
Tycho grunted. "He's lucky, then. Higher, lower, farther back, different angle-he'd be long dead. No wonder he wore a hood and needed someone to speak for him." He frowned and ran his fingers across the dotted lines on the man's forehead. "Li," he said slowly, "I think I've heard of him. They called him the Stitched Man. He was a pirate." He twisted around. "He sailed with Sowl"
Li blinked and stared. "But in Telflamm, they said Brin was the last survivor."
"Shows what you know," spouted the Hooded's interpreter. Li growled at her.
"She's right," said Tycho. "If you think Yu Mao might still be alive, why not someone else from the ship?"
Li pressed his lips together and looked down at the scarred man then at Tycho. "Can you heal him like you healed me?"
"Not old scars like these."
"I mean can you wake him up?" Tycho nodded. Li picked up a sword. "Do it."
The bard turned back to the Hooded. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands over the man's forehead and sang. The song was complex and soft. It was, Li realized, the longest he had heard Tycho sing since they had met-all of the other spells he had cast were short and either jarring or slippery and subtle. For a moment, he lost himself in awe. Tycho's voice wasn't quite as stunning as Veseene's, but it was still astonishing. And he chose to sing in taverns?
The song ended and Tycho stepped back. The bloody cut on the Hooded's head had vanished. His breathing was deep and regular. His eyes had slipped all the way shut.
Tycho reached down and flicked the end of his nose. The Hooded started. His eyes snapped open.
Li made sure that the first thing he saw was the end of his sword. The Hooded's eyes rose to meet his. They narrowed sharply and flicked to the side and found his interpreter. He said… something. The words came out mangled, a harsh string of sounds twisted by a scarred tongue. Li could guess at their meaning though. He hissed and flicked the sword. "She's fine," he said in Common. "You just answer my questions."
The man's eyes narrowed again as if he had not expected Li to speak the language. Li could have cursed himself-all of the silences that he had thought were Yu Mao's stunned surprise were just moments of confusion. The Hooded simply didn't speak Shou. "What's your name?" he said harshly. "No 'Hooded' or 'Stitched Man.' I've had enough of that."
The man grumbled something and, across the room, his interpreter said, "Staso."
Li shut her out, focusing on the scarred man. "You served on a pirate ship called the Sow." Staso nodded slowly. "What do you know of a Shou named Kuang Yu Mao?"
Staso growled and spat. Li caught the spittle on the blade of the sword and flicked it back at him. "I said what do you know-" Staso cut him off with a snarling response.
"I see him in your face. Take your revenge and kill me now because I'm not going to tell you anything about that serpent!"
Serpent? "I came west to kill my brother, not you," Li snarled back. "Tell me what I want to know and you'll live."
Tycho winced. "Li, that might not be such a good idea…" Li ignored him and met Staso's hard gaze.
"When I sent his name up to you," he guessed, "you told your man to get rid of us fast because you were afraid?.
"I fear nothing. Death has already touched me." Staso's scar-stretched lips curled back even further. He held up his chin and turned his head to display his scarred cheeks. " Yu Mao did this." Li's jaw clenched. Tycho caught his eye and gestured, miming a spell. Behind them both, Staso's young woman gasped and called a warning. Staso just laughed, a horrid gobbling sound. He babbled something. The young woman didn't translate it.