Meng's Revenge: Vol.4 of Life Among Clouds WangXian Series

Anshi, The Emerald

He was known as Anshi Dilnur in his mother's language. Anshi, God's Gift. He had been known as The Singer as well. He sang before he could speak. But those names were as locked in his young heart as his talent was locked in his soul. He never uttered them out loud. Neither did he reveal his talent.

One, the name, had been  granted by his maternal grandfather. The other, his unearthly voice, a gift from the Gods. And as he traveled, torn from his homeland and bereft of hope, he learned early, and at great cost to himself, to never distinguish himself, to never allow his owners to hear his song. The early ones used it for profit and trade and so he smothered that gift from the Gods until he almost forgot that he even possessed it

He renamed himself Jalgiz. which meant alone. He worked hard at whatever life he had been purchased for and when it was over, he worked hard at the next place he found himself. But he never let them use his music, muting it and keeping it only his. It could have made his life easier and he could have been known worldwide, but he knew his soul would wither and die from that kind of betrayal and this he refused to do.

Now Anshi sat in quiet as the people around him, who also waited for auction after the market opened, wailed and moaned. He pitied them because they feared their unknown fates. He knew that fear wasted energy and was fruitless. It would happen, despite their outcries. His head hung in exhaustion and his stomach roiled because the main buyer at the preview last evening was a brothel owner and he had shown a deep interest in Anshi. Just 22, he was young and exquisitely beautiful, once you looked past the grime of the road. His hair was long and thick, with a strong wave and it was a very dark auburn. His long, mono-lidded eyes were a mesmerizing deep green, so he could easily imagine what his new fate would be. He would be purchased to service the wealthy clients in the brothel, someone who could appeal to those who were more exoticly inclined. This then, would be the end of his line, forcing him to use his body in that fashion...No, he would never disgrace his tribe in that way. The first night, he would end it all, if the worst came to pass. Funny, that his tribes' acceptance of multi-cultural marriages, had created such lovely people, and that it would be his undoing in the end. He was content with this as his final day in this world.

He sat to one side as the sun slowly rose and the market began to stir. Few people were on the street yet and he watched dully, long eyes just killing time until he stood before the crowd when the slave auction opened. Then he noticed someone walking slowly down the street. The figure looked familiar. The way the warrior walked in confidence and strength. He shook his head. Not possible. No, not possible. When had he seen her last, when he was four, five, six? He could not remember exactly. Not possible. He was simply heartsick again and his mind was playing tricks in his despair.

***********

Yenay strode past the booths as the merchants and mongers began setting up for the day. All seemed quiet, and secure, although she was far from easy. She knew that Meng Shi had operatives in the town. She would be a fool not to have every inch under surveillance and it made the Guardian nervous. She stopped and bought a basket of buns and fresh fruit to take back to Qinyang and Qing. She knew that they were meeting later at the Bungalow. Lan Zhan was having his first Empathy session and he was also going to have to face the women after his ride to Cloud Recesses. She smiled slightly to herself. This would be an interesting day with the Geniuses of Gusu.

Yenay made her way toward the slave markets. The hunters and auctioneers were excellent sources since they traveled far and wide looking for their sad and hopeless merchandise. As much as she despised them, she smiled, conversed, asked about their families. Gave them trinkets for their women and toys for their children and absorbed any news she could wheedle out of them. She felt queasy just associating with them. However, the safety of all her persons, or those left to her, was dependent in part, on the information she gleaned. As she passed the main pen, a tall and slender young man stood and faced her. She almost walked by, until she noticed the eyes. Something about them...she paused and looked directly at him. He looked dazed and his face was unguarded and vulnerable for a moment until he accepted he was daydreaming again, and a veil of apathy fell back across him, shuttering the eyes and once again, losing heart. Anshi, fool, you are seeing things again, he thought. She watched the hopeless young man lower his head in defeat. And suddenly, she knew him.

She was rocked to her core, slipping back to her past, a place she hoped never to revisit, in the Far Northern territories, before being found by Ming. Where a powerful and respected tribe whose chieftain, a father with many sons, took her in and gave her a chance. Memories of that youngest one, no more than six years old (possibly younger), gifted with a voice like the singing of angels, and eyes like Indian emeralds. A boy who grew to love her and dogged her steps wherever she went.A child who needed a friend and a Guardian who needed to protect someone.

Someone she saw dragged away, screaming as she lay bleeding to death after fighting the marauders. Yenay gathered her suddenly shattered reserves and went to seek the slave trader, ready to make the most important deal of her life.

She took the trader back and pointed the young man out and began to bargain.

"Jalgiz, stand up so this General can look at you."

"No. Do not force him." Snapped Yenay in her gruff, most intimidating tone.

Anshi, lost in his thoughts and plotting his own death by the end of the day, no longer paid attention to anything around him. He had gone far inward and simply had no interest anymore. He was vaguely aware that the warrior was inquiring about his price.

He kept his eyes lowered. His back bowed in submission, he heard a voice say,

"What is your given name? I will know if you lie to me. Trader, could you step back for a moment? Now, young man, no one else can hear you. Only me. Your true name please."

"Anshi." He did not know why he answer with his true name. The General turned from him immediately. She murmered an exhorbinate price . one that the man could never recieve at the auction today and she retreated to a private room as the man went to retrieve the boy from the pen.

When he came back, Anshi in passive tow behind him, she saw he had been shackled, hand and foot.

"Would you leave us a moment? And remove those irons at once."

The trader nodded. "He's yours now." He left and the young man sank to his knees, a humble and submissive kowtow. She knelt to his level fighting tears, choking back anger.

"Anshi. Anshi. Little Emerald. Please. Look at me, sweet child. Please."

He raised his head, blinking in confusion and disbelief. "I was daydreaming again, was I not? Please, General, punish this slave. I failed to pay attention once again."

Yenay's copper eyes filled with tears. Her little Anshi, reduced to this state. She had failed to save him during that time, just as she had failed her sworn brothers and sister the year before.

"Little Emerald. Look at me. It is Yenay. I survived, as you did, I am here now, I am sorry I am so late."

"Yenay? But you died. Am I dead now too?"

"Anshi. I am here. I did not die. Help came and I lived. It took a long time. But I lived. I found no traces of you when I healed. I thought you had died as well."

"Yenay?" The soft voice broke and he could not, dared not believe.

"Yes, little one. You are safe now. Nobody will hurt you again."

He heaved an exhausted breath and sank into her strong and muscular embrace.