When word reached the Emperor that his son had broken ties with the government and become a renegade, he smiled. After he smiled, he laughed, and his laughter was so great that it filled that wing of the palace and caused the ministers and councilors and the ladies and maids to worry about his sanity. He directed his gaze to the vault of Heaven that was shining under the drawn curtains, and he said: "My son, you will either be the savior of us all, or you will be the destroyer. I knew that from the day you were born. But I did not know that the season of your judgment would come so soon. Oh, make me proud!" He could not stop the high officers from placing a bounty of a million silver bullions on his son's head, rousing forces and factions from diverse corners of the Realm who wished to make themselves a name and a fortune to go along with it; but when word of the bounty reached the ears of those in whom a shard of righteousness still resided, to the contrary, they looked into the facts and realized how ridiculous this all was, and they did not take up arms against Fair-Gale. At any rate, he and his company were not harassed as they fled from Frigid-Cloud Province into the border regions of the northwest.
Now this land was not settled, but was semi-wild. No provinces were there, only scattered commanderies installed by the Emperor's warriors and by warriors loyal to the lords of border provinces in order to facilitate transactions with the uncountable tribes of horse-riding barbarians that called this land home. The grasslands were sweltering as deserts in the summer, but colder even than the frigid north during the winter, and not uncommon were sightings of beasts twice as big and thrice as terrifying as any that could be found within the borders of the Realm. As for the men, arrayed in vast tribes sporting dubious claims of descent from a hodgepodge of ancient gods, demigods and demons, they were constantly at war with one another and with all the neighboring people. They were born and raised on horseback, and the first objects they were taught to hold were knives; after knives, swords; after swords, bows; after bows, spears. From the age of three they were taught how to kill animals, from six, to kill men. The women, too, excelled at riding and even shooting, and not a few from the especially patrician families were renowned for their beauty. There was one clan in particular called Harmony; having kept their blood pure while allowing only those of a choice pedigree to marry in, every girl born to it grew up to be a beauty, so whenever someone who was a great warrior or chief wished to have a beautiful wife, he would go there and ingratiate himself, and as a result that clan became very wealthy. And because that clan (which was also responsible for carrying out rituals for the gods) thus had ties to all the other great clans of the race, it was regarded by many as being at the center of their realm, like the axle of a wheel, and much prestige was lavished upon it. When the various tribes got embroiled in feuds, the houses of Harmony would pull strings through channels of in-laws and eventually convince both sides to come to a settlement, thus was peace always being delicately renewed. But when the attempts at peacemaking failed then the war might snowball until dozens of tribes were wiped out, but this was not common, and thankfully for Fair-Gale and Iron-Hill and their men the tribes of the northwest were currently in a state of relative peace.
Intending to seek refuge at one of the distant Imperial commanderies that was said to be under the watch of a virtuous official, Fair-Gale and Iron-Hill crossed the grassland, going past hundreds of yurts in which the barbarians were accustomed to dwell. They did not want for food or water, because the barbarians would readily trade these with them for silver, cowry shells and bolts of silk, which Fair-Gale had managed to take with him in his flight from the provincial capital. When after ten days they reached the commandery--which was actually a large, heavily-fortified town--they announced themselves and were readily let in. The official in charge was an 8th-rank commander surnamed Little-Oak, to Fair-Gale he said: "What business does Your Lordship have at this stronghold on the edge of civilization?" Fair-Gale responded: "I have only come to seek refuge from the vicious wolves that now roam the near and far corners of His Majesty's Realm. Men of valor great and small have risen against me because I dared to defend a man wrongly sentenced to death. But this is not just a story I made up; no, I have the edict of acquittal right here, with His Majesty's seal on it. But these days, as you probably know, you would be hard pressed to find in the same room two men who would bother to read something with His Majesty's seal on it." And he showed the edict to Little-Oak. Because his loyalty to the Imperial House was stronger than average, Little-Oak pledged Fair-Gale his absolute support and handed over all his facilities for Fair-Gale's disposal. That included almost eight thousand troops that were stationed at the commandery, along with twelve thousand horses, five thousand chariots and enough weapons and armor to equip every man twice. Fair-Gale, Iron-Hill, their officers and the former Lord and his family moved into a few spare lodges.
They had not been staying there even for a week when on the eastern horizon appeared a couple armies wishing to try their hand at capturing or killing Fair-Gale to secure the bounty. Because the grasslands were as flat as the plain of the sea, the approaching enemy could be seen long before it arrived, and so Fair-Gale was not flustered as he rallied the soldiers and prepared to give battle. Iron-Hill at his side, he rode out to exchange a few words with the enemy commander before the battle began, but the commander--whether he was a low-level functionary or a gang leader it was impossible to tell--spoke first, he said: "What great fortune I have met with today, for of all the warlike men of our great Realm who are now on the hunt for your head, it was I who was the first to find you, and so will soon be well-known as a killer of traitors. My ancestors were warriors as far back as our records go, and it is about time I made them proud." And Fair-Gale parried: "Are you seriously under the impression that killing me, the Emperor's son, who hold an edict by the Emperor himself to back me up, will make your ancestor's proud? As soon as I have killed you, you will seek them in the next world only to discover that they have disowned you for shame, and you will be left to roam the earth or Hades as a ghost." To which the enemy commander: "I could care less about the Emperor's edict, and whether you are the Emperor's son or his cobbler makes no difference to me. If I cared about either of those things, would I really have hiked all the way out here to the edge of the world with all fifteen thousand of my fighters? Come on, let's get this show on the road." Iron-Hill turned to Fair-Gale, he said: "What a garrulous fellow. Someone needs to shut him up." And he rode out to face the commander in single combat, while shouting: "You filthy braggart. Who do you think you are?" Iron-Hill cut his head off after just three rounds, and when he was swarmed by a handful of his officers, he cut their heads off too, but by that time the two armies were already charging one another eager to draw the first blood of the war. Though the enemy army was great in number, it was nowhere near as well-equipped as Fair-Gale's new army, nor as well-trained. After about half of them had been killed, the other half fled, but even without this travesty of discipline it would have been obvious that they were not regular soldiers. They were embarrassed more than anything.
A few weeks later another challenger made an assault on the commandery where Fair-Gale was staying. This one came with an army of about ten thousand bearing the insignia of house Fair-Gale had never heard of before. Armed with a halberd, the commander who rode out looked like he was in his seventies or even eighties. When he took his helmet off to exchange words, the sunlight glowed in his gray hair, and he said: "I demand to do battle with the renegade prince. If you can hear me, show yourself at once!" Fair-Gale replied: "Elder gentleman, I am right here. With all due respect, your eyes must not be as good as they used to be. But I can't even imagine what would decide a man of your age to seek my head for a bounty. And by the way, you're crazy if you think I'm going to do battle with you. Why don't you put away your sword." The old man said: "Here, why don't I explain it so it's easier for you to imagine. My whole life I have worked as a district-level constable, decade after decade I was passed over for promotion, and that is in spite of the bounty of merits to my name both scholarly and military. For one, I rounded up all the cattle thieves in Dragon-Pine Village and gave them a beating, I did the same with the wine filchers of Wide-Creek Village, and I showed no mercy to the dine-and-dashers that used to haunt the streets of Ivy Township. But this latter incident I memorialized in a Lyric called 'Song of the Scroungers' Deserts.' I titled it that because those villains were expecting a dessert of fruits or cakes or sweet wine, but instead they got the just deserts of the bastinado. That was the beginning of my parallel literary career, and my Lyric even earned the approval of the district magistrate, for which it found its way into a monthly digest. Besides that I wrote a whole five volumes cataloguing the different kinds of flowers, trees and bushes found only in ... Province, a collection of fabulous tales from the ... District, a volume of poetry about beetles and butterflies and another volume about the mushrooms of the Forest of the Flame God. But somehow my deeds went unheard of. After that I quit writing and made a small fortune from gambling, but that is nothing to brag about. Now in the twilight of my life an opportunity has arisen to elevate my name, so I sold all my property to buy this small army and cast the die one last time." And Fair-Gale: "If you're so dissatisfied with the government, why don't you join us? If you do, after all this is over I will recommend you to His Majesty." The old man said: "I would be greatly inclined to accept your offer, were it not for the stubborn fact that I know not how many years I have left, though I know it is not many, and who knows how long your war could take, by the time it's over I may have already croaked, then no fame or sinecures will make their way onto my descendants. That is why I'd rather take your head here and now." Not regarding what the old man was capable of, but not wanting to kill him either, Fair-Gale sent three riders to capture him with rope. These three he cut down almost immediately with his halberd, so this time Fair-Gale sent six, but the old man was no ordinary warrior, he cut them down too. Fair-Gale said: "Well, I won't apologize for what happens next." And he sent Iron-Hill into the field. They had a good sparring that lasted almost twenty rounds, but finally he returned with the old man's head. Only a fraction of the thousands of soldiers the old man had mustered were in the mood to fight and they were subdued with little effort. Afterwards Fair-Gale said: "This is extremely sad. See to it that this gentleman is given a proper burial."
In the months that followed, many more challengers would follow suit, but because most of these did not exceed the shabby bands of middling crime lords and mediocre private armies, each posed no greater threat than the last. But after a definite period of time there were rumors that a few of the larger clans aligned with the Empress with extensive holdings were getting ready for a campaign. Little-Oak said to Fair-Gale: "If the regular army of even a medium-sized province were to show up, we would not stand a chance. I have already received numerous letters from various local powers, including some of the other commanderies, assuring us of their support, but even then..." Fair-Gale said: "What about the horse-riding barbarians. Will none of them come to our aid?" Little-Oak answered: "They may, but we will have to solicit them, and not without promising them a substantial reward. For they can be lazy, and sometimes only the talk of treasure can rouse them." And Fair-Gale: "Great. Have letters drafted immediately, and dispatched to all the great clans based in this area." "Letters will not do, My Lord, for very few of them know how to read. When conducting diplomacy with them, one had better go in person. I will gladly go on this errand for you." "No need. I will go myself." And he put together a convoy with Iron-Hill, and they set out. They sent fast riders ahead of them to inform everyone in the area that Fair-Gale of the Imperial House wished to hold council with all the great tribes of horse-riding barbarians.
Eventually a congress was called, and it convened at a particular spot along the largest river that ran through the area. The patriarchs of fourteen great local tribes came to the congress, eager to hear what the Imperial Prince wished to discuss with them. The patriarchs elected one among them to represent themselves to Fair-Gale, who was of the clan Rock-of-Heaven. To him Fair-Gale promised a thousand gold bullions, five thousand silver bullions and three thousand bolts of silk in exchange for joining him in the war. Rock-of-Heaven was not keen to agree to this, he asked: "Seeing as you are a renegade prince, I would like to know where you will procure these exuberant riches before I give my assent." And Fair-Gale explained how he would procure them from his own treasury as soon as his name was cleared, which caused the other to laugh in concert with the rest of the members of his race that were assembled there. The negotiations were going nowhere, and the horse-riding barbarians were getting ready to leave without pledging a single warrior, when one of the other patriarchs approached Fair-Gale with these words: "The founder of my clan was a demigod called Flaming-Eagle, and besides my clan he sired many others, and for that reason is regarded as a great hero in our realm. You have probably already heard tell of this story, but in ancient times he challenged the founder of your dynasty to a duel, and since he too was of a divine seed they found a worthy opponent in one another, and rather than killing each other walked away as brothers. Now almost a millennium has gone by, and how drastically the world has changed! Our peoples, once brotherly, have drifted apart so much that everyone on both sides has forgotten there was ever a time we weren't at odds. But today you, a son of that same house, have come to forge a pact in good will. This can mean nothing more than that Heaven wishes to renew the spring of history and bring about a repetition of the ages, a return of the ancient golden age." And he turned to the patriarchs, and declared: "I say we ought to ally ourselves with the Imperial Prince and help advance this profound enterprise." And the patriarchs gave themselves over to careful discussion. They saw much reason in what the man had just said, but in the end, seeing as Fair-Gale had no backing of his own, they still did not pledge any support. Further, someone said: "If Heaven had a mind to renew the ages in our time, then a demigod comparable to Flaming-Eagle would already have been born among us, and fate would have him swear an oath of brotherhood with the Imperial Prince, but no such thing has happened." The congress eventually disbanded and the patriarchs went back to their home pastures.
After it seemed everyone had gone their separate ways, in a dimly candlelit felt tent, a few of the patriarchs discreetly held their own meeting. One of them said: "That talk about Heaven renewing the ages was almost mad enough to convince me, but just now I came up with a better idea. The bounty on Fair-Gale's head is a million silver bullions, and you know if we deliver it with a little coddling, those crooked grandees will grant us titles and rewards on top of that. There are many examples of tribes being awarded titles like Pacifier or Queller, and these all come with emoluments. He's only come here with a small team of fighters to defend him, how easier could it be to kill him?" The other patriarchs were pleased with this, but someone said: "The only problem is that warlike fellow who is always guarding the Prince. They say he is a real champion and can easily ward off any enemy, no matter how numerous, in time for his lord to escape. If you want to take the Prince's head, you will have to separate the two." So the patriarchs began devising a stratagem. Someone suggested: "As you all must know, there is only one place in the world a vassal will not follow his lord: a lady's chamber. Who here has the most attractive girl in his retinue?" Another man spoke up: "Why choose her from among our own retinues when tomorrow a caravan belonging to a princess of Harmony is passing through this very area. We promise her some gold and silk, then have her charm the Prince and lure him away from his defender. She won't have to do anything more than that, for we can set an ambush right outside the door of her tent." The rest of the patriarchs assented to this plan, and discreetly sent a messenger to the princess's retinue with the proposal. She said she was eager to help them, seeing as they all belonged to related tribes and the Prince was no more than a stranger.
The next day, one of the patriarchs rode to Fair-Gale's party as it was next to the river and, after praising him, offered to treat him to refreshments before he went back to the commandery. Fair-Gale accepted. He and Iron-Hill joined the patriarch at a small lacquer table set up in the meadow where wine was quickly served. About halfway through his second cup, Fair-Gale saw a large train of carriages and chariots passing by on the other side of the river. When they were directly across, they stopped, and a great number of people were dispersed setting up banners and tents until it looked like a small town had been built. After that, a few targets were set up right next to the river, and a lady on horseback rode out from behind one of the tents and began to practice shooting. Fair-Gale was unable to take his eyes off her. Although her garments were dignified and noble, they were not comprised of the flashy, colorful silks he was used to seeing in the Capital, yet this only seemed to enhance, not extinguish, her beauty. She wore no makeup, piercings or hair ornaments, but she was so naturally beautiful that Fair-Gale wondered if she had any need for them. Her stylish austerity served to draw his attention away from her outward decorum and towards the energetic motions of her body, and he realized for the first time that a woman needn't be gaily adorned to be attractive. In a different way than he was used to, she was even elegant.
Noticing Fair-Gale's captivation, the patriarch said: "Sir, it seems you have taken a liking to that princess." Fair-Gale's face flushed red, he said: "Forgive me, I had no idea she was a woman of rank. You must understand that where I come from, women of rank do not practice archery in the open like this. Though when I saw how pretty she is I should have known better. Please do not take offense." The patriarch laughed warmly, then said: "Sir, in this country it is no crime to look. Sure, our women are less shy than yours, but since we live in tandem with the Earth and move in concert with the Heavens we have come naturally to think of all men and women as brothers and sisters. In fact, I happen to be related to that woman's tribe and wanted to call on her while she was passing through. Since you're a foreign dignitary, it would be rude of me not to invite you." And Fair-Gale was quick to accept, but Iron-Hill was wary of the possibility of treachery. Later that day, before they were to call on the princess, he pulled his lord aside and warned him: "How can you be so trusting of these horse-riding barbarians. Surely you must know how commonly they stab one another in the back, and with how little remorse. This chieftain has accosted you out of nowhere, has heaped praise upon you, offered you drink, then just as luck would have it a lady's caravan passes right by us and he invites us to feast with her. The tides couldn't be more well-timed. There's a strong chance he's using her good looks to trap you, kill you and help himself to the bounty." Fair-Gale said: "It is unfortunate that nothing came of the negotiations, but I have been treated by them with the utmost courtesy. It would not reflect well on the Imperial House if I were to repay their cordiality with suspicion." Iron-Hill could not stop his lord from going to the banquet.
That evening Fair-Gale and Iron-Hill met up with the patriarch. Iron-Hill had made sure to bring all of his fighting men with him, but the patriarch was also accompanied by a train of soldiers whose size was difficult to estimate now that it was dusk. When they arrived at the Harmony princess's caravan, they were led straight to a large opening with a bonfire and several individual tables where wine and food had already been prepared. The area was surrounded by tents, tapestries and felt space dividers and was lit up by several large torches in addition to the bonfire. The princess was already seated. Her appearance had changed from before, for now she had on a knee-length jacket of white silk over a red-violet skirt whose plantlike embroideries gave it a texture rustic yet somehow cultivated in spirit. The skirt went as high as her torso where it gave way to a robe of a color distinct from the last but not disharmonious with it, which was the same color as the lipstick she was now wearing. She did not look at all different from the stellera that could be seen at that season in bloom almost everywhere. The likeness was picked up on immediately by both Fair-Gale and Iron-Hill, but while the former took great delight in this, the latter, aware of that plant's poisonous nature, took it as an ill omen, and he was more vigilant than ever. She received the foreign guests with grace and deference, as she figured was to be expected of her as a daughter of the closest thing her country had to a royal family. She questioned Fair-Gale to no end about his life, his background, his family and friends and the many things that had brought him to her country.
The night went on, and round after round of food and wine was served. Fair-Gale realized that he had never drunk this much before, and yet he could not stop for he continued to accede to the urgings of the princess and the man who had invited him. Iron-Hill had only taken a few cups, but at any rate he was strong to drinks and his wits did not deteriorate. Someone nearby was burning incense, and while the aroma was utterly exotic it did not fail to impress Fair-Gale. As he stole glances with the lady, who was not too shy to return them, he wondered if that scent would offend the capital-dwellers if it were brought there. It would, he thought, not because it was an odious scent but because the sensibilities of the nobles had become lifeless and shoal. But if it were smartly blended with a few of the more respected aromas, the result would be well-received for its tasteful novelty. If he were to take it home, no doubt he would be fulfilling the long-held prerogative of the Imperial Family to be the stewards of class. By now the attendants had been dismissed. As he was thinking about these things, the lady moved to his table and started serving him wine directly. Iron-Hill knew his lord's life was in danger and suggested that they leave, but Fair-Gale was completely taken in by the woman's charms, he would not leave. Soon he stood up with her and the pair were about to wander off. Iron-Hill stood up too and demanded to follow them, but Fair-Gale said: "Stand guard here, that will be enough," and he and the lady disappeared into the darkness between the tents.
The ambush had been planted outside the princess's main tent, but she did not lead him there, instead they went to a tent that belonged to some of the serving girls. No one saw them enter. Wondering where he was, Fair-Gale said: "Lady, what dark place is this you have led me to? I cannot see a thing." She responded: "Sir, your life is in danger. The man who invited you here wants to turn in your head for the bounty. Your reputation proceeds you and I considered the chance to drink with you a blessing, but if you were to really die, such a thing would stain the name of our ancestors, so I won't allow it. Lest my compassion come to nothing, you would do well to lower your voice!" She had him lay down on one of the cots with her. Several hours went by quietly, until there was a loud pounding on the tent door. She answered the door. It was the chieftain's soldiers, swords drawn, they asked her: "You were supposed to lead the prince to the main tent. Why have you gone here?" Hiccuping she said: "I was tipsy, it was dark, I must have gone here by accident." They said: "Where is he now?" And she: "He slipped away to the west, alone. I didn't think he would get past the perimeter guard. You really didn't see him?" "We didn't see a thing!" "Well it's not my fault you didn't see him. You should have been more mindful! Go tell your lord what has happened." They believed her and relayed this news to the chieftain, who received it angrily, he said: "May Heaven ruin her! We're off!" And he and his men rode out of the camp heading west. Since there had been no stirrings for a couple hours, Iron-Hill assumed his lord was safe and had already returned to his camp. When the chieftain saw him, he assumed Fair-Gale had gone there and was now untouchable, so he called off the assassination. Later he remarked: "Many a man has suffered because of a woman's falseness, but today I was thwarted by one's sincerity! One day I will get even!" But since she belonged to a clan considered sacred he didn't dare attack her.
When Fair-Gale awoke the next morning, he discovered he had forgotten much of the previous night. Iron-Hill had come earlier that morning to see if his lord was still alive, and when he heard he was, he sat outside the tent. When he emerged, Iron-Hill, very displeased, said: "My lord, here we are in the midst of a hostile country, and you went to the one place in the world I cannot defend you. If you had died last night, I wouldn't have hesitated to slit my throat and follow you, but I would have deplored how pointless of an end it would have been. For Heaven's sake don't do that again!" His words revived the memory of last night in Fair-Gale's mind, and only then did he realize what danger he had been in. The stellera lady was now standing in the doorway of the tent. Fair-Gale looked in her direction, he said: "I had no idea your countrymen were in the habit of killing their guests. But since no one will attack you, you had better escort us back to the commandery." She could not disobey.