Fair-Gale's retinue as he returned to the commandery in the northwest was followed closely by that of the barbarian princess who belonged to the Harmony clan. Day and night they saw other bands of barbarians coming and going over the horizons or temporarily showing themselves between the trees of scattered woodlands, but none of them dared to attack, no matter how much they coveted the bounty. Thus he returned safely, if forlornly, for still he had no serious backing even while he knew there were great armies marching his way at that very moment.
As he spent more time with her, Fair-Gale grew even fonder of the Stellera lady, and she quickly proved herself to be full of practical advice, knowledgeable as she already was with nearly every matter of life in that country, and with the management of households in general. She had her servants instruct the army on how to put up and take down tents more efficiently, improving their mobility. She also shared knowledge of which of the local flora and fauna could be eaten, in what manner they were best prepared, and which ones had medicinal effects. In return Fair-Gale taught her how to read and write so that he could communicate with her via letters, but because she was not keen on this skill, believing it to be useless, he was only successful at teaching her the basics. But the Camellia lady was not unaware of her relationship with Fair-Gale, and she found it difficult to talk to him, and she took longer to reply to his letters than usual.
Several weeks later, a small barbarian convoy showed up at the gates of the commandery, and Fair-Gale recognized its leader as the chieftain who had come to his defense at the barbarian congress the previous month. He immediately let the man in, and asked him: "Is there any news from your country? Have the sundry chieftains changed their opinion towards me?" The chieftain replied: "As of now, they have not, but when I heard rumors of recent happenings, I came here forthwith to inform you of something you might want to know. If it is true that you have taken a daughter of the Harmony clan into your retinue, you should regard yourself as though you had been bestowed a jewel from our country by our ancestors. If you treat her like a lowly concubine, that is that, and you cannot expect any benefit besides her company, but if you treat her well, no less than a full wife, then her male relatives will not only thank you and ask the gods to bless your union, but will begin to see you as a relative--and that means they will not hesitate to come to your aid in times of war." Fair-Gale said: "If that is the case, I would be glad if her relatives knew that I have every intention of setting her up in a great palace and sparing no expense to adorn her and her retinue with the highest order of finery. I may be a prince, but as you can see, I am now in dire straights, so I don't know how long it will be until I can again make use of my share of the Imperial inheritance to follow through with my promise." And the chieftain: "If every country were ruled by a lord as honest as you, then man could put away his spears forever. If at any time you want to meet with the people of the steppe, do not hesitate to get into contact with me." And he took his leave.
It was only a couple days after that when Fair-Gale received word that an army of over 60,000 sponsored by the lords of ... and ... Provinces was en route. Iron-Hill said: "We stand no chance against an army of that size. If we stay and fight, we will only be walled in at this commandery and starved to death." Fair-Gale said: "What should we do?" Little-Oak advised him thus: "You would not know this, since you are unfamiliar with this part of the world, but as I have spent half of my career here, I can confidently say that about a thousand miles to the south of here is a vast mountain country. When one goes there from the north, the flat steppe yields to tall foothills, and soon piercing mountains. If you go there, that army will pursue you, but once you have taken the foothills, you can station archers and catapults at your rear to check its advance, and if you don't stop it at least you will slow it down." Fair-Gale said: "I agree with your council. We shall do so." And he ordered everybody to prepare to abandon the commandery. In less than a day, the people gathered everything of value and loaded it onto wagons before setting off to the south. It was summer, the weather was advantageous, and they made good time. Although they could not take all the grain with them, their requisitions for supplies were readily acceded to by the local communities in the border provinces, so they did not starve. A couple weeks went by, and they were on the threshold of the mountain country, but the enemy knew where they were going and hoped to intercept them. Every morning Fair-Gale rose and anxiously scanned the horizon.
The enemy had still not appeared when he saw a huge man on horseback with a spear strapped to his back galloping towards him in the direction they were going. When the man got closer, he shouted: "Is this not the army of Imperial Prince Fair-Gale?" Iron-Hill responded: "That it is." The man dismounted, removed his helmet and knelt, saying: "All hail His Majesty and his son, the Imperial Prince Fair-Gale! I am a gallant known as the Diamond Priest. I was once a frontiersman who served the Knight of ... Province in the southwest, but after my lord was assassinated and replaced by a capital stooge, I resigned my post in indignation and went into seclusion in the mountains. When I heard that a scion of the Imperial House had taken it upon himself to purge His Majesty's Realm of the spoilers of virtue and the killers of the righteous, I sharpened my spear and my sword and polished my armor, I bought a new horse and came as fast as I could to offer my services." Fair-Gale rode out with his commanders to meet the Diamond Priest, and he saw that he was a wide and muscular warrior whose wavy black hair and long beard gave the impression of a wild man, yet whose face carried unmistakable hints of a noble bloodline. What was most striking, however, was his bright, sky-blue eyes, which Fair-Gale had never seen before nor even imagined to be a trait found in humans. He said: "I have no doubt you are not an ordinary warrior, but because I have never heard of you before, I must ask you to demonstrate your martial talent before I give you an assignment." The Diamond Priest responded: "Right now a detachment of fast riders is pursuing you, and will be here tomorrow morning. I saw them as I was coming over the mountains. Your grace, do you see that tree over there? Shoot it with an arrow and count how many leaves fall. That is how many enemy heads I will return with." And Fair-Gale took out his bow and shot the tree. The leaves that fell were innumerable, so he sent a man to count them. The total came to 156. The Diamond Priest said: "Then I will return with 156 heads, no more, no less." And they camped for the night.
The next morning, sure enough, a few mounted vanguards sent ahead of the main army appeared on the horizon to engage in skirmishes. With the eyes of all on him, the Diamond Priest rode straight into the line of enemies and began cutting them down by the dozens. He fought like a madman and never missed a swing. After no more than half an hour of battle, the enemy had retreated. The Priest arrayed the heads he had taken into rows of ten, and when Fair-Gale counted them it came to 156 exactly. Deeply impressed, he put him in charge of two thousand men, but he said: "While I can appreciate a good nom de guerre, you had better tell me your real name and your home district, so I know where to send your remains if you die." To which the Diamond Priest: "Sir, no part of my name is a style. Diamond is the name my parents gave me. You might think it's because of the color of my eyes, but actually it's because even as a baby not even a butcher's knife was sharp enough to pierce my skin. And the truth is, when I was a teenager, I studied under a master and earned the qualifications of a priest of the God of War, and to this day there is no other deity I serve." And Fair-Gale said: "Fair enough."
Each day, a larger detachment of the enemy vanguard which catch up with them and offer battle, and each time the Diamond Priest would make quick work of them. After they had made it far enough into the foothills, Fair-Gale stationed him in the rear to confront the pursuing army, telling him: "The enemy commander will likely ask for single combat, but you are not to grant him this. Stand your ground, pelt them with rocks and arrows until they are too reduced to follow us." And the Diamond Priest promised he would do so. He positioned archers on every cliff overlooking the road, and even found places to roll boulders. The archers rained arrows down on the enemy, slowing its approach dramatically, and when it came in range of the boulders, he let them loose, crushing hundreds to death. The enemy, however, was extremely durable. The slain were quickly swept off the road as more men came flooding up. After the boulders were spent, the Diamond Priest rotated the frontline archers to the back, giving the enemy the impression it was gaining ground, but since the rotated lines of archers were even further up the hills, their ranges increased and they were able to land hits just as frequently as when they were in the front, and the enemy continued to lose men at an untenable rate. The enemy commander shouted taunts many times hoping to entice the Diamond Priest into single combat, and while the offer was incredibly tempting to him, he did as his lord commanded and did not acquiesce. But his men's supply of arrows was dwindling fast, so he began to retreat slowly. As he retreated, he felled great trees over the road, and the enemy could by no means pursue with the same speed and intensity with which it had come across the plains below. When he caught up with Fair-Gale and the rest, he gave a full report, and Fair-Gale was pleased.
The next several weeks they spent trekking through the mountain country. The roads were thin, often convoluted and all but disappeared at times, but the Diamond Priest knew the land well, since his home province was not by any stretch of the imagination far. One day they reached a place called Black-Crag Junction, where the road split in two. Fair-Gale asked the Priest: "Which way would be the most beneficial for my army to take?" He answered: "The eastern way leads back towards the lower country. If you go that way, you will be at the mercy of hostile armies. But the western way will take you to a small but isolated valley. The way there is perilous, but once you are there, it is easily defended, and the forests provide more than enough to live off. Is there even a contest?" Fair-Gale took the western path.
The desolate road looked as though no one had set foot upon it in centuries. The sun went up and down more than ten times before they saw anyone going the other direction. It was a crone with knee-length white hair and sun-blasted skin. When she saw the army and the Imperial insignia fluttering above it, she bowed and then saluted, and Fair-Gale was moved by the fact that her limbs still permitted her to do so. She then called out: "You should worship at the temple of Dark-Fight! That deity is said to grant victory even to those who are up against all odds. By his power, the moon could even conquer the sun. And they also say, and hear this, that if he favors you, he will paint the fields black beneath your feet!" Fair-Gale knit his brows and said: "Dark-Fight? I have heard of no deity by this name." Iron-Hill had this suggestion: "My lord, that woman is senile. You had better not take what she has to say seriously. What does 'paint the fields black beneath your feet' even mean? What kind of god of war would perform a deed like that?" But the Diamond Priest had this to say: "As a Priest of the God of War, let me make it known to you that the manifestations of this deity are like the scaly raiment of carps: though they are all carps, no two have the same pattern. Just so, the God of War goes by many names, and it is said every district has its own. I believe this crone is speaking sensibly. 'Painting the fields' et cetera refers to the soil turning fertile after soaking up the blood of the slain enemy. And how could any god with 'fight' in his name not have something to offer warriors?" Without really thinking, Fair-Gale said: "Very well. Elder lady, please point us in the direction of this temple." And she told him: "A few miles down, you will pass a giant cedar, called the Gate Tree. You can't miss it. That is where you must turn and go up the mountain. Go left at the Great Boulder, go right at Frog's Creek, and follow it till you reach Fox's Pond, then take another left and go such and such a distance till you reach Crooked Cliff. You should be able to see the temple from there, and there's a little road for you to follow." And they parted ways with the crone.
Though the string of names did not linger in Fair-Gale's ears any longer than a raindrop lingers on a petal, after spotting the giant cedar he and the ones closest to him, after commanding the army to pitch camp--for the sun was soon to set--managed to find their way to the cliff without difficulty and from there, true to the crone's report, a small, dilapidated temple could be seen standing not too far away on a lower ridge. The road that led to it was in reality nothing but a dirt path that was, at any rate, already half-reclaimed by the vegetation that surrounded it. When he passed through its sacred gate, he saw that the stone temple was so ancient, any inscriptions that might have once existed had long since been weathered away, and the roof--whose tiles may have once been orange--appeared to be propped up by an invisible force. Fair-Gale said thus: "After making an offering, I will pass the night in the sanctuary, and if the deity is still resident here, will have an audience with him." And he went in flanked by Iron-Hill. The Camellia and Stellera ladies, too, had followed him to the temple, but after seeing him enter such a ghastly structure they each felt they could not very well fail to accompany him, and they went in together, if reluctantly. After performing the sacrifice, he had bedding brought into the sanctuary, and a screen made of tree bark was set up to divide that room from the antechamber, where Iron-Hill and the two ladies and some of their attendants were to sleep. The Diamond Priest along with ten warriors kept watch outside.
He went to sleep. And dreaming, he met the deity, whose long black hair and robes like cascades of night attested to the name the crone had told him, yet whose slender build hardly seemed to befit the God of War. He spoke thus: "Are you not the deity of this temple?" And the deity responded: "I am." To which Fair-Gale: "Then you are called Dark-Fight, is that correct?" And the Deity: "Did you just say Dark-Fight? You must have heard my name incorrectly--whoever might have told it to you?--for my name is, in fact, Dark-Flight." "I beg your forgiveness for hearing your name incorrectly, but surely I am not also mistaken that you are a manifestation of the God of War, am I?" The deity smiled, and he said: "You are mistaken there, too. Look at me, do I strike you as a God of War? No, I am a God of Eclipses. When wrapped in my coat of darkness I take flight over the realm, against all odds the moon conquers the sun, and the fields are painted black." Fair-Gale's face flashed for a brief moment with annoyance, but he continued thus: "And here I came to pray for success in battle. For believe me, at this point in my life I am not too unlike the moon that is up against the sun. But please, do not let my misunderstanding, however impolite it may be, call into question the sincerity with which I sacrificed just now. If you will excuse me..." He was about to take his leave of the deity, when the latter stopped him with these words: "Say, your face glows with the features of the Imperial bloodline. You must really be in dire straights to be wandering out here, where not even the highway reaches. But surely when you were a boy you must have been made to study the dynastic records, and therein you must have learned how frequently eclipses used to occur back in ancient times, and in the time of Tengir also." Fair-Gale reflected for a while on the books he was made to read as a boy, and he said: "You are right." To which the deity: "Although here I stand as one deity before you, from which you might infer that the coming and going of eclipses is up to my sole caprice, the truth is that the eclipses, like all celestial phenomena, are signals of the prevailing attitude of Heaven." And Fair-Gale: "Naturally. Why else did the ancient sovereigns take them as signs of Heaven's disapproval? It was not uncommon for them, on such occasions, intending to let bygones be bygones and inspire the people to turn over a new leaf, to declare a general amnesty, emptying the jails and repatriating exiles. And no one would dare disobey such decrees, since they quite visibly came from an authority even higher than His Majesty." "Yes." The words of the deity rang in his mind for a while, and he suddenly thought to say this: "I do not know what Heaven's opinion of me is, nor will I pretend to be worthy of hearing it. Yet I do not doubt Heaven will assume the posture that best reflects this opinion in due time. However, if it is at all within your power to sway the gods of Heaven to rule in my favor, and in a timely manner, then I will not hesitate to become your regular follower. I will happily furnish you with a new temple in the Central Meadows, staff it with a dozen priests and priestesses, and see to it that your altar is never barren." The deity said thus: "I will do what I can to help you out. And if you really intend to repay me for this, then you had better take my spirit-body with you, which you will find right behind the crumbling altar you sacrificed at just now, so that you can enshrine it at the new temple you intend to build." And the deity called Dark-Flight faded into thin air as the dream dissolved.
When Fair-Gale opened his eyes, he retrieved Dark-Flight's spirit-body, which was a little bronze statue of a horse, from behind the altar. He then went out of the sanctuary and told the people who were with him everything that had happened. And he added: "We need only hold out in these mountains for a little while longer. Then you may all go home." They regrouped with the rest of the army. Feeling indebted to the old woman, he charged two fast riders with delivering a reward of three gold bullions to her, but although they went searching for her for an entire day, they found no trace of her. Meanwhile, his army arrived at the valley, which being in such a remote location had as of yet no name, and he ordered a wooden fortress to be put up. He then set up checkpoints at every passageway leading into the valley, and because of that the most the enemy could do was entrench itself on a few patches of highland several miles away.
The eclipse came sixteen days after Fair-Gale sacrificed at the temple of Dark-Flight, in the midafternoon. When Fair-Gale saw it, he breathed a sigh of relief, as did the ones he had taken into confidence on this matter. When the other people of the Realm saw it, they regarded it as an evil sign and averted their eyes. But those who were currently in prison, and those who were the relatives or friends of someone who was, knew about the ancient precedent and silently prayed for the Emperor to take action. As crickets began to sing in the Capital, a certain woman was napping. Dreaming, she found herself looking down upon the room she was currently in, where she beheld her own body as it lay resting. She looked up, and saw the figure of a black horse dashing across the sky, and she saw the sheet of black it unfurled behind it swallow the sun. The sun was incredibly bright, though, so a thin ring was still visible. At that moment, she was seized by frenzy and raced after the horse. The horse was fast, but her spirit was buoyant, and she easily caught up. Flying parallel with the horse, she said: "Spirit of the Eclipse: I have never met you before, yet I am struck with the premonition that you are here to save my liege in some roundabout way. If that is so, please deliver this to him."--here she gave him a letter--"If I am mistaken, then ignore what I have said and dispose of it." And at once she returned to herself. After the eclipse had ended, the Emperor summoned all the ministers high and low to an emergency court session, and made this decree: "Since time immemorial, Heaven has let its mood be known to men in just the same way men make their moods known to one another: when one's face is tranquil and orderly, we know one to be at peace with us, but when the face flashes a dark grimace and leers at us, we know that one holds something grave against us in his heart, and we must seek his forgiveness. In this same way, Heaven has just now cast us a look of the utmost ire. This eerie happening is a call to all of us to look critically at our characters and our conduct both public and private, for both of these spheres, which men are so quick to decouple, are reflected equally in the eye of Heaven. As the sovereign, the sins of every man in the employ of my government, from the highest minister to the lowest message-bearer, fall upon my shoulders, and I know for a fact that there is not a single man among us, myself included, who has not committed one offense or another. And yet those whom the Law punishes will always be but a fraction of the total number of those who commit sins, for the Law addresses only those incidents which are brought to public awareness, for which the families involved are at risk of losing face. Of course, if it is for the sake of upholding Heavenly justice, then the sovereign who imprisons every other man is not mistaken, but were we all standing at such a pass today, would Heaven have shown us as odious a sign as it just did? This means that the grudges various individuals hold against us are not unjustified; this is to the peril of the Realm! For that reason, hear my decree! That a short grudge not turn into a long one, that a grumble not turn into a cry of rebellion, I decree a general amnesty. With the exception of those who have committed murder, banditry and fraud, all who are imprisoned may leave the jails, and those who are banned from the City may return." The ministers heard and obeyed, and it was done in accordance with the Emperor's will. More than fifteen thousand people were released from jail, and five hundred writs of banishment were annuled.
Very quickly the decree reached every province of the Realm, even the most remote; there was not even a hamlet that was not informed of it, and in record time. And, knowing that among the previously jailed and exiled were many an upstanding man, many were those who rejoiced, thinking that even if evil men were released alongside them it would still be to the profit of the Realm. But among all too many who had the closest dealings with the Emperor there were quiet curses. But whether they cursed quietly or they cursed loudly, there was nothing they could do besides curse. At any rate, the bounty on Fair-Gale's head disappeared, and the armies dispatched in order to seize it had to return to their home districts, or to disband, if they were not regular armies.
The armies that had followed Fair-Gale into the mountain country were soon seen taking down their tents and abandoning their fortifications. Fair-Gale commanded his own men to march, and while they were making ready to do so, he said: "Now the Realm is once again at peace. Little-Oak, Diamond, you have served me well, so I have prepared rewards for you. Take them and go back to your regular occupations." His sword rattling and his armor clanking, the Diamond Priest went before Fair-Gale and knelt, and he said: "Your grace, think about it: can you really call this peace? Though your name has been cleared, the ones who started this mess have not diminished in power and continue to haunt the halls of state. Yes, you are off the hook for now, but do you really expect them not to cook up some new reason to come after you? Return to the Capital if you dare, but I will not let you do so without my protection." Iron-Hill said this: "He is right, this is not over. You had better not disband the army." Fair-Gale listened to their advice, and he kept all the men in his employ.
He set off for the Capital, and arrived after just five weeks. Shortly after moving into an Imperial residence on Twelfth Avenue, he had a private audience with his father, who told him: "Do not make yourself comfortable. In a couple weeks I am going to create you as a lord again, and then it's back to the provinces. But things will be different this time. Just now a multitude of officials were released from jail, and already their rivals have gotten busy trumping up one charge after another. I heard of a gentleman who didn't even get to enjoy one sunset before he was whisked back into the very same cell he had walked out of. This time I will put you in charge of a medium-sized province that is badly in need of administrators. I would like you to take as many of these officials under your charge as you can and have them help you govern the province. Among them are many capable statesmen, I assure you. Surely you must understand my intentions. It is better for them to serve you in some faraway place than it is for them rot away in jail here." When he heard this, Fair-Gale wanted to be surprised, but he was not surprised. And not being surprised, he accepted his father's instructions with more grace and magnanimity than he would have before. But considering that he had been doubting if he would ever get a chance to see his father again, afraid, as his father had once warned him, that his grave would be dug in some distant land, there were many things he was prudent enough to bring up in the discussion, which went on long into the night. He spoke about how he had had to leave behind most of his gold when he fled Frigid-Cloud, and his father assured him he would not leave the City without a substantial amount from the treasury. "Thank you. That will come in handy in more ways than one. There are a couple of girls who have been following me around lately, and I would like to set them up well." His father's response was: "As long as you don't mind building your palace in a field that doesn't have a name." "If it doesn't have a name, I will give it one." "You might as well build a new City while you're at it, then. Building a city is easy, giving it a name is the hard part... By the way, has that enchanted book I gave you been of any assistance to you yet?" He said: "I haven't thought to use it before." But their conversation did not go much further than this.
Fair-Gale spoke to Iron-Hill about what his father had intimated to him. "I had better put my affairs in order." Is what he had to say. Later he called on the princess known as Wisteria, and the two spoke in a discreet place. He said: "I will be leaving again soon." And she: "Please, let me go with you. My father already knows about us, and he is not indifferent to the service you have rendered our family." To which he said: "No, you must stay here, for my sake and for the sake of my lord. While we are gone many things will go on behind these walls, and there will be lots of careless talk. Do not relent in your vigilance, and find a way to keep up confidential correspondence with me. There is another woman living in the halls of power who wishes to correspond with my lord, but she does not have as much freedom as you do, so we will be counting on you." It all but broke her heart, but she had to agree. They barely had any time to catch up on each other's lives, and when it was time for him to leave, she spilled her tears all over his sleeve. After he had gone just beyond the gate, she said:
When Heaven signaled winter's end
I shed my woolen coat and donned
A purple gown of spring,
Would that I'd known a sudden frost
Was on its way to sting
Her voice was so faint, he almost mistook it for the water trickling in the garden, but it did not fail to move him. He said this by way of reply:
Would that I'd known the bell would toll
That echoed through the barren grove
And sundered me from you,
Whom all the more I see at night
There, shining in the moon
He called on her several more times before departing the City again.
On the first day of the following month, the Emperor issued a decree creating Fair-Gale a Knight, and the province known as the Western Sea Frontier was given him for a domain. Among the faction of courtiers who had come to despise him all the more now that circumstances had permitted him to return to the Capital without shame, especially when his downfall had not even a month ago appeared so certain, this was a welcome development, for it seemed in effect a banishment even more complete than the one leveled against him before. As that province had only recently been incorporated, Fair-Gale's dominion over it was to be the first, and for that reason the appointment came with a regular army of forty-five thousand men and horses and a body of administrators. Fair-Gale received endless offers of service from civil and military officials who had just been let out of jail and feared for their safety, and in keeping with his father's wishes, he used them to form the bulk of his new staff. Among them was the [frigid lord], who had held out a faint hope of remaining in the Capital, which was dashed as soon as he saw the land where the house that was once his stood, though he hardly recognized it, what with the weeds that choked the garden and the grass that had sprouted in the roof tiles. Nothing remained of the furniture or wares that were once inside the house, which was now lived in by squatters and raccoons, and while he knew he would meet with no trouble at evicting these, he knew just as well that there was no future for his household in the Capital, which is why he once again entrusted his fate with Fair-Gale, the man who was at any rate about to be his son-in-law. In total, 1,100 military officers and more than 3,700 civil officials entered his service, and the former was put in charge of the newly-established army.
In the days leading up to his departure, the number of military men under his charge swelled to almost sixty thousand as even more people quit their current employment and joined his ranks, either having been instilled with the hope of a better future, or simply seduced by the prospective boons of adventure, whether that be money, land, rank, or a sense of peace and quiet. He divided the men into six armies, and appointed as generals Iron-Hill, the Diamond-Priest, Little-Oak, and three newly-enlisted officers, ..., ... and .... He left the Capital on the fifteenth day of that month, followed by a train of men, horses and carriages more than three miles long.
While he was passing through the western fringes of the Central Meadows, he had a geomancer pick out a fine field where he planned to put up a temple to the deity who had helped him out, just as he had promised. Because he was no longer in constrained circumstances, he was able to recruit esteemed builders and artisans, and the completed temple--with more than eight large and fifteen lesser halls--was one of the most opulent and dignified constructed in recent times. He himself installed the bronze spirit-body in the main worship hall and carried out the first sacrifice with the assistance of the six priests and six priestesses he had appointed to manage the temple. After this was done, he resumed his journey.