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The Sun Throne

Roland Carlsson
Copyright © 2022 by Roland Carlsson

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the
publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or
otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it
to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it
are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events or localities is entirely coincidental.
 Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 7
Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10
Chapter 11

Chapter 12
Chapter 13

Chapter 14
Chapter 15

Chapter 16

1. Chapter 17
Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20
Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23
Chapter 24

Chapter 25
Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue
 Prologue

The war drum beat and Terrence pulled in time to its steady rhythm.
Every sinew of his body strained. Thick rope burned against his
exoskeleton.
“Pull harder,” the foreman snarled.
He stalked the line, whip in hand. Terrence kept his eyes trained
on the feet of the pucci in front of him. The ship creaked across the
rows of fallen timbers. A tidal spray plumed over the lead puccis as
the prow met the water of the bay.
Terrence’s heartbeat quickened, and he redoubled his efforts. The
strain gradually lessened as the rest of the vessel splashed down.
Dropping the rope, he joined in the cheers of the other laborers.
Oars dipped down from either side of the vessel, propelling it
sluggishly alongside the rest of the fleet.
“That’s it,” the foreman said.
The pucci’s stiff exoskeleton and depthless compound eyes
precluded the emotive facial expressions characteristic of the softer
races. Even still, Terence thought he detected a certain grimness in
the set of his mandibles.
Terrence arched his torso back, stretching out his tender lower
back. “I can’t believe it’s finally done.” He risked a glance back. The
city’s central avenue ran straight back to the main gate. Heavy
wooden beams barred the entryway, not that it mattered. Their
presence was purely performative.
A black tendril drifted over the top of the city walls. Terrence
shivered.
“You really think they’re going to keep their end of the bargain?”
He half-expected the foreman to scold him. Doubt was one of the
fourteen taboos. In better times, such a crime against the tribe was
liable to be met with banishment, or worse.
The foreman slowly shook his head. Anxiety pheromones leaked
from the burly pucci’s body.
“I hope they do. For all our sake.”

***

“First consort, he’s here.”

“Bring him in.”
The drone nodded, and together with his partner they pulled back
the wide double doors leading into the first consort’s private
chambers. The pair shrank back as a black cloaked man swept past.
The first consort looked up from where he sat, but he did not rise.
His sleek belly protruded like a balloon, his eyes which had once
glittered with brilliance were dull and drooped.
 He gestured towards the seat across from him. N. stepped onto
the balcony and sat.
“It is completed.”
“Please, have something. I’ve brought out the best from our
storerooms. Fermented syrup, honeycombs, elephant aphid eggs-
you won’t find food like this anywhere else.”
You should know that better than anyone, the first consort thought.
N.’s face was a featureless black oval. He positioned it towards
the fattened pucci. The first consort twitched his top pair of arms
over his thorax.
“Yes,” he snapped. He gestured with his middle arm towards the
row of ships. “As you can see, we’ve completed our end of the
bargain. Now, it’s time for you to hold up yours.”
N. sniffed. “You’re drunk.”
“That’s none of your concern. Bah, who wouldn’t be under these
circumstances?”
“Are you able to perform your duties with the queen?”
The first consort pressed his mandibles tight together. He turned
his head to the bay. Black storm clouds clustered overhead, potent
and waiting. A chill air swept up from the ocean.
“Did you really come all this way to discuss my love life?”
“Love, such a curious concept.” He rubbed his right thumb and
pointer finger together. A marble sized ball of black energy swirled
above his hand. He snapped his fingers and it disappeared.
“Creation and destruction.”
He leaned over the table. The first consort twitched back. The
honeycomb beneath N.’s torso darkened and sagged.
 “The two move in tandem,” N. continued. “Like a hound chasing a
fox through the forest.”
“You wouldn’t know it looking at Tyre,” the first consort said.
“Destruction’s first great triumph,” N. said. A smile crept through
his words. “An entire continent subjected to our dark
commandments.”
Not entirely, the first consort thought.
Granted their city constituted little more than a pimple on the rear
of Tyre. But, for the time being it remained untainted. A fact which
the first consort didn’t want to bring up to the dark avatar’s attention.
“And now you’re leaving for this other place,” the first consort said.
“Telos. Our presence is not unknown, though its knowledge is
dampened. Once, we held a common God. Shothgar the wise.
Unfortunately, the time of his worship is long past. We hope that our
arrival will rekindle those embers.”
The first consort returned to the fleet. Forty ships, each a miniature
city in its own right. Even with the Tiya supplying the materials, their
construction had nearly bankrupted the city.
Only the threat of existential destruction had kept the workers
going while their food stores had dwindled to a bare nothing.
“So, you have what you want,” the first consort said. “I hope this
means you haven’t forgotten your promise.”
“We will give you release.”
The ships bobbed gently on the waves. The first consort lifted his
chalice. Fermented syrup slid down his thorax. A warm glow filled his
body.
“The queen is dead.”
 “Oh.”
“It’s unexplainable.” The first consort slammed his chalice down on
the table. Fermented honey sloshed sluggishly over the side.
A dull thunder echoed from the gate.
“Destruction has claimed her, as it will claim all its errant children.
Lambs returned to the fold.” N. pushed his chair back and stood.
“Thank you for the fleet.”
The city gate exploded in a cloud of splinters. Waves of black
tendrils roiled down the thoroughfare. They rose and crashed across
the buildings, consuming them in its tar-black depths.
The first consort stirred, but did not rise. When he spoke, it was in
a colorless tone. “This is not what we agreed.”
“We agreed upon relief.”
The first consort turned in his chair towards the ocean. He did not
see the dark wave which swept over him. The docks disappeared
along with the city behind. The orphaned fleet bobbed restlessly on
the waves.
An oily tongue stretched across the water and touched the first
vessel.
 Chapter 1

I ducked beneath Pallas’s blade. The sharpened metal edge whizzed

past my shoulder, missing my pauldrons by mere centimeters.
Flicking my wrist, I swept up my dowel.
It made a satisfying thwunk against her greaves. Pallas dropped
her sword and hopped backwards. A torrent of profanity passed over
her lips.
I lightly tapped my dowel against my calf. “Yield?”
After several creative invectives concerning my mother, a goat,
and a troll, Pallas picked up her sword and charged.
I side-stepped and brought my dowel low again. This time, I did
little more than make firm contact with her ankle. That was enough,
however, to send the bodyguard sprawling in the dirt.
My stomach growled. “Will you yield already? I’d like to get some
lunch in my belly before we hit the road again.”
“Nebber!” Pallas said through a mouthful of dirt.
 I staggered forward as something slammed into my back with
comet-like force. Two hands slid over my eyes.
“Sneak attack!” Medina said.
Cursing, I staggered from side to side. The wooden dowel was
yanked from my hands. I yowled as pain lanced across my backside.
“Let’s see how you like it,” Pallas said.
I dissipated the dowel before she could strike again. Half-formed
plans tumbled restlessly through my mind.
How can I get her off me without hurting her?
A metallic ringing shook the air and I took another small leap
forward.
“Yeah, get him Pally. Spank his ass,” Medina crowed. “Someone’s
been a naughty boy.”
The flat of her sword made contact with the metal plate skirt that
extended from my waist to mid-thigh. I winced, and a stupid,
desperate idea popped into my brain.
The ground disappeared from under my feet, and then I was
tumbling down. I landed with a thud and Medina popped off my back.
“Ouch! Geez, where the hell did this come from?” she said.
I held out a hand. “Switch sides?”
She grasped my hand and I yanked her to her feet. Her chest
pressed against mine.
“Make me an offer?”
Cupping her chin in my hand, I leaned down and planted a heady
kiss against her mouth.
I tilted my head away. “Is that sufficient?”
 “As a down payment.” The back of her hand brushed against the
front of my metal skirt. “I’ll collect the rest later.”
Pallas leaned over the lip of the hole. “What are you two doing
down there?”
“Be up in a sec.”
I wrapped my arms around Medina’s torso and she rocketed us
straight up. Pallas went stumbling backwards as we whipped past. I
stretched my arms out to either side and dropped.
Pallas’s eyes went wide. Her arm barely got a quarter of the way
up, before I made contact. The sword flew out of her hand and we
went tumbling in the grass. I dissipated my armor, leaving myself
bare chested in my breeches.
I didn’t want the harsh metal pinching Pallas.
She reached for her dagger and I grabbed hold of her wrists.
Forcing her hands above her head, I straddled her waist, and leaned
forward.
“Yield.”
She turned and spat into the grass. Frustration flickered across
her face.
“I yield,” she mumbled.
Medina clapped me on the shoulder. “Nice work Cal, but usually
the woman prefers this position.”
I grunted and swung myself off the prone warrior. Stretching out
my upper shoulders, I luxuriated in the midday sun.
Two soft arms slid around my chest. Vala buried her head in the
crook beside my neck. I returned her hug, before parting.
 “Will you practice your magic with me now?” she said. Hope
flashed in her eyes.
My stomach grumbled, louder this time. “Maybe later. If I don’t eat
asap, I’m going to be kaput. We still have a lot of road ahead of us.”
I settled in on a stump and grabbed two pieces of flatbread from
nearby. Summoning a knife, I cut off two slim slices of crumbly white
cheese and a thick slab of cured ham.
I stuffed the crude sandwich into my mouth. Pallas settled in
beside me. She took a swig from her canteen and stared straight
ahead.
“You should try some of this,” I said, proffering her the sandwich.
“I’m fine, thanks.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “How did
you do that?”
“Yeah Cal, I’ve never seen you do anything like that before,” Vala
said.
I held up a finger as I took another humongous bite of my
sandwich.
“Good huh,” Vessa said.
I swallowed. “Amazing. What did you say this meat was again?”
“Coilwogger, they’re a breed of water pig.”
“So, this is like ham?”
“Similar, you’re eating the fleshy part of the neck where the gills
are located.”
“They’re delicious.” I took another bite. Since arriving in Telos, I’d
grown more flexible in my dietary choices. As long as I wasn’t eating
spider eggs, I was okay.
Pallas swatted my knee. “Cal, the pit.”
 I swallowed, and took a swig of spring water from my canteen.
“Right, sorry. I’ve summoned plenty of weapons, but I’ve never done
a trap before.”
Pallas lifted an eyebrow. “You sprung a trap on yourself?”
“I’m as surprised as you are.”
An appraising look crossed Vessa’s face. “That’ll come in handy
against the vrag.”
“Not as much as your fire hands.”
“It’s not a competition. But, you’re right. If it were, I’d be winning,”
Vessa said.
I shrugged and lifted the sandwich to my mouth. The world began
and ended with its flaky edges.
A scream split the air.
“Son of a-,” I said.
“We need to help them. Whoever they are,” Vala said.
I looked longingly at the sandwich.
“It’ll still be here when you come back,” Vala said.
“Nah, fuck that.” I stuffed the rest of the sandwich into my mouth.
My lips struggled to close around its girthy edges.
Pallas wrinkled her nose. “Oh gross.”
I shrugged, and strode past her towards the source of noise. We
were in a small clearing by the roadside. A stand of trees and
underbrush. I pushed through the thin screen and came out atop a
hillside.
A hamlet lay in the valley below. Smoke curled up from a burning
house. I sprinted down the hillside, my sword in hand.
The cries had gone quiet and I feared the worst.
 A shadow passed overhead. Medina made a wide loop around the
perimeter of the village, before swooping down to the base of the hill.
She waited for me with her arms crossed.
“No survivors. Whoever did this is gone,” she said.
“We don’t know that.”
I strode past her and made for the first house. She sighed, but
followed after me. The building was little more than a hovel, a one
story adobe construction with a rickety lean to built against the side.
A lopsided window stared blankly out from the front. The door
hung halfway open. I swung it the rest of the way, then swung it
back. Pinching my nose, I turned and almost ran straight into
Medina.
We exchanged a grim look. I strode towards the next house.
Medina caught my wrist.
“Are you sure you want to do this? You know what you’re going to
find.” Her voice held a plaintive edge.
“I have to be sure.” I gently extricated myself from her grip and
continued.
A fire smoldered in the next building’s thatched roof, though it was
in little danger of spreading. A single corpse lay propped up against
the back wall. Black flies buzzed around his entrails.
I brought my hand to my mouth and backed away. I could taste the
sandwich rising in my throat.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
A high-pitched sob rose from the building next door. It abruptly cut
off. Summoning my armor and shield, I crept forward and swung
open the door. A waxy pale woman in a torn shift lay wedged
between the stove and the far corner. Aside from some rickety
furniture, the rest of the main room was empty.
More sniffling and a thin mewling sound emanated from a hallway
that led off from the back of the room. I dissipated my shield and
summoned a torch into my free hand.
“Who’s there?” I said.
Nothing. Striding forward, I brandished the torch towards the
darkened hall. It only extended a few feet. On the left was an open
closet, on the right was a doorway without a door.
I passed the torch over the closet opening. A few dusty blankets
were piled on the floor. Something scurried behind me. I turned just
as something whipped past my legs.
“Stop,” I said, taking off after it.
I stepped back into the main room. Medina stood in front of the
door. Her wings were extended to their full length, lending her a
sinister aura.
A small child rocketed into her legs.
“Lemme go, lemme go,” she cried, beating at Medina’s thighs.
Medina retracted her wings. Kneeling down, she caught the child’s
fists in her hands. She struggled, but Medina had the upper hand.
“It's okay,” Medina said. “I’m a friend.”
The child lifted her head back and howled. I cringed. The yell
turned to tears, and great, wracking sobs seized her body. Medina
let go of her fists and pulled her close in a hug.
I came up behind them and examined the child more closely. She
couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. With matted black hair and
a stained shift, it was clear she could use a bath.
 I wrinkled my nose as I examined the back of her shift more
closely. The dark splotches which I’d initially taken to be food stains
appeared on closer inspection to be blood.
Medina slid her arm under the girl’s butt, and lifted her. The girl
spread two willowy arms around Medina’s neck, and cradled her
head on Medina’s shoulder.
We exited the building. Vessa and Vala were waiting outside, while
Pallas made her way through the houses we hadn’t gotten to yet.
“Poor baby! Is she alright?” Vala said.
Medina bounced her softly. “Shaken up, but unhurt.” She drew a
hand over the child’s hair, pulling it back.
“What happened?” I said.
Medina shot me a look, but I ignored her. The child didn’t answer. I
strode to her side. She had her head buried in Medina’s shoulder.
“Cal, is this really the time?” Medina hissed.
I shot her a hollow eyed stare. “Whoever did this is on the march.
We need to stop them before they can repeat what they did here.”
Medina pursed her lips, but didn’t pursue the matter further.
Extending a finger, I dipped it below the girl’s chin and lifted her
head.
“You’re safe now, honey. I need you to tell me who did this. It’s
very important.”
She sniffled, and for a moment I was afraid she’d start crying
again.
“It’s the lizards. Big ones, not like the ones that live in the woods.”
“Did you see where they went?”
“No, I hid. Was I bad?”
 I reached up and squeezed her little shoulder. “You did well.”
“Take me to my ma.”
My heart broke. I pulled my hand back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think
your ma is around any longer.”
“No.”
“She’s dead, hun.”
“No, no, no!” The girl thrashed in Medina’s arms. She shot me a
death glare.
I shook my head, and looked away. It had to be done. The blood
cooled in my veins, and a great somberness fell over my heart.
A stirring melody filled the air. Vessa had broken into song. The
gentle lullaby washed through the air, erasing the carnage and
destruction. The child stilled. She slumped over Medina’s shoulder
having fallen into a deep sleep.
The song gradually faded, reducing until it was hard to tell if it’d
stopped or merely thinned into nothingness.
“Nice job,” I said.
“I put a spell in the song. She’ll sleep for a while, a day at least.”
She pursed her lips. “Come on, let’s get these sons of bitches before
she wakes up.”
 Chapter 2

We found them in the next valley over. Medina flew me in. The vrag
squad was engaged in a skirmish with a group of covered wagons.
“Take me low and drop me,” I said.
Medina tilted down at an angle, and soared towards the vrag
forces. Enmeshed as they were in the battle, no one noticed the bat
girl overhead. I pulled on my armor, and eschewed a shield for a
two-handed battle-hammer. My blood ran hot when I thought about
the little girl and what she’d been put through. I didn’t care about
getting scratched up a little- all I wanted was to crush some vrag
guts.
I stove in the head of a red-scaled warrior. The hammer crushed
his head into his shoulders. It would’ve been a comical sight, were I
not so hopped up on righteous fury.
Spinning on my heel, I brought the hammer around in a punishing
arc. It slammed straight into the stomach of a nearby hellspawn,
sending him flying backwards. Keeping my momentum, I completed
the arc, and swung the hammer in a complete 360. My efforts were
rewarded with the crunch of shattered bone and bent steel.
I was attracting attention now.
Several vrag turned from the front line, a fatal error. Taking
advantage of the distraction, the caravan line surged forward. Bow
strings snapped and hearty war cries filled the air.
I dissipated my hammer and summoned twin blades, before
plunging back into the melee. Twirling and twisting beneath spiked
steel and sharpened blades, I jutted both of my blades forward at the
same time skewering a squat vrag just below his breastplate.
He gurgled, his eyes went blank, and blood foamed at his lips. I let
him keep the swords. Two vrag jumped up from the rear and
charged my position. I extended both arms in front of me and
summoned two loaded crossbows. As soon as their firm wooden
grips brushed against my skin, I took aim and fired.
Stout bolts extended through the backs of their throats and the
vrag dropped onto their knees.
“On your left!” Medina cried.
A wild-eyed vrag was racing towards me in a kamikaze charge. He
held a scimitar above his head.
I spun on my heel and summoned a kite shield and a lance.
Planting the butt of the lance against the ground, I crouched behind
the shield. The vrag leapt towards me and froze in the air.
His entire body glowed, and then he dissipated in a cloud of
sparks and ashes. Medina swooped by overhead, her whip trailing
behind her.
“Nice job!” I said.
 I turned and scanned the battlefield for more, but with the vrag line
shattered, there were only a few hold outs, and those were being
swiftly put down by the caravan guards.
I stopped and admired their work. The women moved with greater
quickness and skill than many of the human soldiers I’d seen
elsewhere in Telos.
“Well met knight.” A smiling redhead crossed the battlefield
towards me. She wore a leather buff coat beneath a mail hauberk. A
gore stained battle ax trailed from one hand.
I strode forward to meet her and forced a smile. “It’s the least we
could do. These vrag attacked a village some way back yonder.”
I pointed in the approximate direction of the girl’s village, and
something flashed across the woman’s eyes. As quickly as it’d
come, it was gone.
“Yes, well we’ve been on the road for some time. I’m afraid we
must’ve passed by that village without noticing it,” she said.
“You’re not exactly on the road,” Medina said.
The queen of darkness pressed herself against my side, and
stared down the redhead. I gave her a little shove.
“Manners,” I said in a low tone.
Medina ignored me. She did have a point, however. We were in
the middle of a grassy valley. The main highway was several miles
distant.
The redhead shrugged. “We take whatever path is most
profitable.”
“My name is Calvin, but you can call me Cal.”
I extended a hand. Her palm slid over mine, cool and dry.
 “I am Christine. You’ve rendered a great service to my company.
Could we entice you to stay for dinner?”
My first instinct was to say no. A quick look at the sky told me I’d
be stopping for the night soon enough.
“Why not,” I said. “Three more of my companions are coming.
They should be here any minute.”
A smile curled up her lips. “We would be honored to host them. If
they’re even half as good looking as you two—,” she cut off and
flashed me a wink.
Before I could respond, she’d turned and walked off.
“Great, a bunch of weirdos,” Medina said.
“I thought you liked weirdos,” I said.
“Normally, I don’t know Cal. Something just feels off.”
“Excuse me.”
A mousy brunette had crept up to my side. Unlike the other
members of the caravan, she was broomstick skinny and dressed in
a creamy tunic.
“Hi, my name’s Cal,” I said, extending my hand.
She bowed. “I am Kim. The mistress would like to have a word
with you.”
“Who?”
“She owns the caravan.”
“Lead the way.”
Kim bowed twice in quick succession before striding off for a
fortress sized wagon. The sides were coated in steel plates that
extended half-way up the black canvas sides. Slender spikes stuck
out at regular intervals.
 I let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the war wagon.’
“She’s quite the lady,” Kim said.
Medina grabbed my arm and pointed. “What’s that?”
I gave a small start. What I’d initially taken to be a hillock shifted
and brayed. It hefted itself to its feet, revealing itself as a dinosaur
sized lizard, all mottled blacks and puke greens.
“The slough?” Kim said. “Simple beasts of burden.”
She swung back a steel panel and stood off to the side.
“You’re not coming up?” I said.
She flashed me a tight smile. “The mistress prefers if I stay
outside.”
I shrugged and started up.
“The male only,” Kim said.
Medina stopped with one foot half in the air. “You have to be
kidding me?”
“I apologize, but the mistress was quite clear on this point.”
Grumbling, Medina stepped out of the wagon. She walked to the
opposite side away from Kim and wrapped her arms tight over her
chest.
Apprehensive, I continued into the wagon. I banged my head on a
low cross beam.
“Ouch.”
“Are you all right?”
“It’s really dark in here. Do you have a candle or something?”
A small pool of light spilled over a desk in the far corner. Sitting
behind it was a woman in black lace. Age lines pinched her cheeks.
 “I understand you’re quite the warrior. Please, sit.” She gestured to
a straight backed chair in front of her desk. I sat down.
“Are these the first vrag you’ve encountered?” I said.
“The first in the Southern reaches. What business brings a
strapping young warrior like yourself to our aid?” she said.
“We’re on our way to Odras to purge the capital of the vrag.”
Her mouth tugged up in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Good for you. I’ve been saying for years someone should take care
of those buggers. Ah, but who listens to an old woman these days?”
“You wanted to see me?”
I tapped my fingers on the edge of her desk. I wanted to get the
hell out of this creepy wagon. More importantly, I wanted to get away
from this creepy woman.
“Yes, I can see you’re a man of business, much like myself.” Again
with the creepy smile. Jeepers. “I would like to retain your services
for the remainder of my trip. As you no doubt saw, my guards are
doughty warriors. But even they struggle against the vrag, and it was
only a small band that we chanced into today. I will pay you and your
companions handsomely, of course.”
“Please, we won’t accept your money.” Her face fell, and I held up
a hand. “However, we will travel alongside you for so long as our
paths coincide.”
“That sounds like a fair proposition,” the woman said.
Her leather glove face dissolved into a sea of wrinkles. The sound
of drunken singing filtered in from outside the wagon.
“The night’s festivities have already begun. Please, don’t let me
keep you,” She gestured to the doorway.
 I bowed and left.
Outside, the sun had fallen to the lip of the horizon and a nippy
chill had entered the air. I summoned a thick coat, and went in
search of Medina.
She sat on a log at the edge of a fire. Vessa, Vala, and Pallas, had
joined her. I hugged each in turn, with the exception of Vala who was
still holding the girl. A bubbling pot hung over the fire.
“What’s for dinner?” I said.
“Stew,” Vessa said. She wrinkled her nose. “Speaking of which, it
should be ready.”
She stood and ladled out bowlfuls for me and the girls. Off to the
side, the guards and merchants were cavorting around a bonfire.
The fire must’ve been hotter than it looked, because several of them
had taken their tops off. A well-endowed guardswoman lifted a
smaller merchant. The two began to kiss. Neither wore a shirt.
Nice.
“I guess the concept of 'don't mix business with pleasure’ hasn’t
landed on Telos yet,” I said.
Medina grunted.
“Does any of this seem strange to you?” Pallas said.
“You mean the caravan, or this world in general,” I said.
The outline of a person appeared in the darkness.
“Is everything alright?” Kim said.
“Peachy,” Vala said.
“Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?”
“Go right ahead.”
 I patted the empty portion of the log beside me. She sat with her
knees pressed tightly together.
“Do you want some stew?” Pallas said.
Kim shook her head. I gave her a curious glance before returning
to my dinner. Something was off about her, though I couldn’t say
what.
The ruckus around the bonfire quieted. I cocked my head.
“Did you guys hear that?”
Medina set down her spoon, and closed her eyes. The high,
mewling cry returned, louder this time.
“I hear it,” she said.
“Me too,” murmured Vala.
The other girls mumbled their assent, all but Kim. The color
drained away from her face.
“It was probably nothing,” she said.
Concern lit up Vala’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes? Why?”
“Your hands are shaking,” Pallas said.
“I’m fine, I really am. Sorry for bothering you. I have to go.”
She jolted to her feet and staggered away.
“If she walked any faster, she’d be running,” I said.
“What do you think that was about?” Medina said.
“This place is giving me the creeps,” Vessa said.
“Ugh.” I planted my hand on my forehead. “I promised their boss
we’d stick with them until our paths diverged.”
“Then it looks as though our paths will be diverging in the
morning,” Pallas said. “Until then, let’s get some sleep. I’ll take first
watch.”
I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand. “Wake me for second.”
“Here, give me your bowls. There’s a stream not far back,” I said.
“I’ll go with you,” Vala said.
She stood up and moved to place the sleeping girl on the ground.
“That’s fine,” I said.
“I can help.”
“Stay with the girl. I need some time to think.”
She shrugged, and settled back on the log. I summoned a shield
and placed the rest of the dishes on it, before trudging off through
the darkness towards the sound of running water.
I had a lot to think about. With an army making its way up from the
South, and another battling the vrag in the North, we were finally in a
position to crush the vrag once and for all.
The girls and I had gone on ahead of the main force to scout out a
suitable meeting point and to make contact with the combined forces
of Andhera and Odras.
Whatever was going on with this merchant caravan, I couldn’t
afford to let it distract me from our main goal.
I reached the riverbank and knelt down on the sandy shore. As I
scoured the empty bowls, I let my mind wander. At times like this I
craved the opportunity for menial labor. The steady, rhythmic pattern
was perfect for my wandering mind.
My father was a God from another dimension.
I still wasn’t sure how to process that one. Growing up, my mother
had always been cagey about my father. As a child, she’d fed me a
line about how he was off doing secret missions in the Middle East.
 Later on, I figured that he and my mom must’ve had a one night
stand. Or maybe he’d walked out on her, gone for a pack of
cigarettes.
My mom was tight lipped on the matter all the way until the
emphysema took her. I’d never brought it up with my uncles. People
didn’t talk about things like that. It was shameful.
Maybe I should be angry. Somehow I wasn’t. Sure, he’d
abandoned me, my mom and I both, to rot in a trailer park. But,
growing up as I had, that was all I knew. The idea of having some
cosmic entity daddy dearest hanging around was so foreign as to be
almost inconceivable.
Then there was the matter of my powers. Humans can get used to
just about anything, and I’d long since gotten used to my summoning
abilities and Paladin powers.
But, my Sun God laser beams were still shiny and new, and more
than a little scary. I hadn’t used them since the siege of Cricilia and
that wasn’t for lack of opportunity.
I finished the last bowl. Setting it carefully on my shield, I cradled it
in my arms and started back.
What I did know was that he and I were going to have a long talk
when I restored him to his full powers. Whatever that looked like.
The skin on my back prickled. Someone was watching me. A dark
outline turned and fled.
I started after her, then stopped when I recognized her.
I shook my head and continued back to camp.
 Chapter 3

The girls had banked the fire, and only a few embers glowed in the
darkness. I set down the dishes and snuggled up between Vala and
Medina.
Vala stifled a yawn. “You were gone for a while.”
“I saw Kim again.”
“Oh, what did she say?”
“Nothing. She just ran away,” I said.
“What a weirdo,” Medina said. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
I turned over, and closed my eyes.
“Night guys.”
“Nighty-night,” the two girls said in unison.
They giggled. That was the last sound I heard, before I drifted off
to sleep.

***
Pallas shook my shoulder. I rose as quietly as I could, trying my best
not to wake the girls beside me. Once I was at the perimeter of
camp, I summoned a leather buff coat, a hauberk, and a longsword.
Then I settled in for a night of watching.
After a few minutes, I closed my eyes. Concentrating on my
breathing, I did my best to meditate.
Ya gotta breathe son.
Gus’s words echoed in my mind as I pushed aside all conscious
thought, and tried only to think of the slow expansion and contraction
of my chest. My heartbeat stilled and I was at peace with the world.
The cry split the air like a knife through cloth. My eyes fluttered
open.
I scanned my surroundings. Nothing. It was coming from the
wagons. I stood up, and crept over in a fighting stance. The cry
ceased. I stopped.
Had I really heard anything, or was my mind just playing tricks on
me?
Hefting my sword, I circled the wagons. It started again. I strode
towards the source and came upon the mistress’s steel sided
wagon. Crouching, I planted my head against the wagon’s side.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I jerked my head up, almost cutting my ear off in the process on
one of the wagon’s spikes.
“Jesus, you startled me.”
Kim shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Sorry.”
“What’s with you? You’ve been following me all night. It’s obvious
there’s something you want to say.”
 “Not here.” She rubbed her foot into the dirt.
Wooden steps creaked behind me. I turned, less than eager for a
repeat encounter with the mistress.
My eyes widened. I leapt back, and not a second too soon. A bear
sized tarantula swept one of its forelegs through the area I’d just
occupied.
“Yuck!”
There was no way in hell I was touching that thing. Summoning a
lance, I jammed it towards the creature’s face. It let loose with an
inhuman hiss that sent a shiver running down my spine.
Its fangs hooked around the lance and yanked it from my arms. I
stumbled back.
“Get out of here,” I grunted.
Kim didn’t move. Her chest hummed with rapid hyperventilations.
I swore, and pulled a kite shield and a heavy ax from the aether.
Darting forward, I blocked the spider’s leg on my shield and swung
out with my ax. It sliced cleanly through the spider’s leg.
It split in half, and a viscous green goo spilled out from the
severed limb.
Cold moonlight reflected off the spider’s black eyes. I expected it
to retreat. Instead it leapt forward. I got my shield into position just in
time. It slammed me against the ground, knocking the air from my
lungs.
Salivating fangs twitched fiendishly over my head. I shifted my
shield up to catch a blob of dark venom. It bubbled and steamed. A
leg darted out and pinned my other arm.
 The spider lowered its head, its dark fangs gnashed overhead. A
surge of fear rushed through me.
Dying under a giant spider was not on the itinerary. The ground
disappeared beneath me and I tumbled into empty space. The
pressure against my arm released. I pulled it to my chest and tapped
into my Sun God powers.
A blinding glow lit the pit, and then a beam of pure energy shot
straight up, blowing a hole through the underside of the spider. It
shrieked, and writhed in the air. I rolled my wrist, and the light lanced
through the spider, tearing it to shreds.
I hit the ground and a wave of blackness washed over me. A deep
numbness spread across my back. Through sheer force of will, I
clung to consciousness.
Folding my forearm across my chest, I summoned a massive
rectangular shield long enough to stretch from my toes to my brow.
And not a moment too soon. The dull thud of spider parts rang in my
ears as the sliced and diced monster rained down.
I waited until it finally finished, before sitting up and summoned a
grappling hook. Dissipating my armor, I began the arduous journey
up the side of the pit. I heaved myself over the side, and planted my
palms against my knees.
By the gods, but I was tired.
It was hard to believe I’d just been assaulted by a giant spider. The
world outside appeared unchanged. Kim hadn’t moved an inch since
I’d opened up the pit, though the hyperventilating had stopped.
“What was that?” I said.
I caught her wrist as she turned to run. “Not this time.”
 “Please, let me go.”
“What’s going on here?” Christine stepped out from behind a
wagon.
“Why don’t you tell me,” I said. “I’m not fond of being attacked by
giant spiders.”
She snorted softly. “You men are so fragile. One giant spider
attack and you lose your head. Frankly, I’m glad for the withering.
Women are the superior gender.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” I said.
“Unhand my colleague, and I’ll tell you.”
Kim jerked her arm. My grip didn’t loosen.
“Let me go,” she whined.
“Perhaps I can assist with that, sister,” Christine said.
She slid two long knives from her belt and advanced on me. I let
go of Kim and she sprinted off. Spinning on my heel, I whipped
around and sent a bolo darting after her. The swinging rope tangled
around her heels sending her pitching forward into the dirt.
Christine launched herself at me. I summoned a stiff 2x4 and used
my momentum to send it slapping against her stomach. The knives
dropped from her hands as she went sailing backwards.
She landed with a loud crack on the seat of her pants. Before she
could pluck another knife from her belt, I soccer kicked her hand
away. She cried as her wrist snapped back.
I summoned a spear and dug its tip beneath her chin.
“Start talking.”
She leaned back and hawked a bloody loogie at my face. It
splashed unpleasantly wet against my cheek. Fury animated her
features. “Kill me you bastard.”
So I did.
I carefully brushed the blood away from the tip of my spear on the
grass before dissipating it into the aether. Then I turned to Kim. The
blood had drained away from her skin, and she was still.
I crouched beside her.
“You saw what happened to your friend. That could be you. Or you
can tell me what’s going on around here.”
“Please, it’s not my fault.”
“What’s not your fault?”
Muffled screams sounded from the wagon. I narrowed my eyes
and raised a finger. “Hold on a second.”
 Chapter 4

I stood up and walked over to the side of the carriage. I rapped

against its steel clad side with my balled up fist.
The unmistakable sound of a woman’s muffled scream echoed
out. I turned back to Kim and raised an eyebrow. “I’m waiting.”
“I wasn’t a part of it. I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn’t let me.”
The words tumbled over each other.
“You raided the village,” I said.
“I didn’t, they did. Trust me, I didn’t take part in any of it.”
“But, you didn’t stop them.”
“They would’ve killed me.”
I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I pondered my next action.
Shrugging, I summoned a broad bladed one sided ax. I flipped it
around so the pick was facing the carriage. Positioning myself so I
wouldn’t impale myself on the spikes, I slammed the war pick against
the side of the carriage.
 Leaning back, I strained with all of my strength. The carriage
tipped back on its wheels, but the wagon didn’t break.
I groaned, and let it back down. “How do you open this thing?”
“There’s a key. The mistress has it in her top desk drawer,” Kim
said.
I dissipated the war pick. “That sounds like an eminently easier
course of action. Stay here.”
“I won’t move,” she reassured me.
“You better not. You saw what happened to Christine.” I paused
with my foot lifted in the air. “Speaking of which, what happened to
the mistress?”
“You killed her.”
I crinkled my nose. “The spider.”
“Yup.”
“Gross.”
“Yup.”
I climbed the stairs and entered the mistress’s wagon. Summoning
a torch, I swung it around the darkened interior. It was empty. Not
wanting to linger any longer than I had to, I walked around her desk
and rummaged in her top drawer.
Sure enough, next to a stylus and a dry ink well was a skeleton
key. I plucked it and returned outside. True to her word, Kim hadn’t
moved.
“Where do I put this?” I said.
“It’s on the underside of the carriage. It’s not easy to find unless
someone shows you.”
 I strode over and summoned a bowie knife. I slid it under the bolo
and stopped. “Run away from me, and this will be between your
shoulder blades before you can go half a dozen steps.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
I grunted and got to work on the strings. It only took a few tugs to
sever the rope. She sat up and rubbed her ankles.
“Here you go.” I proffered the key.
She took it without looking directly at me, then she walked over to
the wagon. Bending at its side, she slid it underneath the carriage.
After a few minutes, I heard a soft popping sound, and the steel clad
side shot up several inches. Kim took a half step back. Grabbing one
of the spikes, she lifted it up, exposing a black crawlspace no more
than a few feet high.
A body tumbled out.
I rushed over and grabbed hold of the woman’s wrist. Pale and
sickly looking, she was dressed in soiled underclothes. Someone
had shaved her head, and a nasty looking brand was healing
awkwardly on her left deltoid.
She was alive, albeit barely. I cut away her gag and the ropes
binding her wrists and feet. Her eyes fluttered open, and her face
twisted in animal fear.
“You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you,” I said.
She pinched her eyes shut and rolled onto her side. I summoned a
torch and peered into the dark undercarriage of the wagon. Bodies
were pressed tight together in a solid mass.
I looked at the woman at my feet, and then back to Kim.
“Are there others?” I said.
 “Yes, each wagon has a compartment like this,” she said.
I lifted the woman into a princess carry. Her eyes were closed
again, and from the steady rise and fall of her chest I got the
impression that she’d returned to dreamland.
“Come with me,” I said.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
“After what these people have gone through, I’d have every right.
But no, I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”
She bit down on her lower lip, and nodded. Together we strode
into the night.

***

“Is that the last of them?” I said.

“Yes sir,” Vessa said.
She groaned as she set the unconscious woman down on the
ground.
“Are you sure now?” I said.
“Trust me,” Pallas said. “We’ve double checked every carriage.”
“If even one girl is still inside,” I said.
“Just blow the damn thing,” she said.
“Ready girls?” I said.
“Ready Freddy,” Medina said. She beat her wings against the
ground and lifted into the air.
Vala turned to me and nodded, her face grimset. She held two
torches, one in either hand.
“Okay then,” I said, more to myself than to anyone else.
 Lifting the ram’s horn to my lips, I expanded my lungs until I felt
like they’d burst. Then I blew.
The noise blared across the valley. Red faced, I threw the horn on
the ground and shouted: “Rise and shine ladies!”
The first women stirred from their wagons. That was all the
advance notice I was going to serve. Summoning my bow into my
hand, I took aim and shot off a flurry of flaming arrows. Unlike the
mistress’s wagon, the rest of the caravan were strictly wood and tarp
affairs which meant they took off like dry kindling.
Vala shouted weakly as she tossed her two torches at nearby
carriages. Meanwhile, Vessa happily blasted away, while Medina
swooped overhead, meting out destruction with her whip.
The canvas covers glowed and dissolved into ashes. Half-dressed
women streamed from the carriages. Several carried weapons, but
most had nothing more lethal than their balled up fists and bare tits.
A nude woman stumbled out of her carriage, and nearly face-
planted.
“What’s going on?” she wailed.
“On the ground. Hands behind your head,” I said.
I didn’t wait for her to comply. Striding over, I grabbed her wrists
and forced her into a lying position. I dug my knee into the small of
her back as I tied her wrists together.
Then I forced her upright and perp walked her over to the
designated prisoner area. The other girls were in the process of
bringing in the rest of the camp. Medina swooped around the
perimeter. Her whip lashed out at any who dared to flee the camp.
 Fierce warriors they might be, no one’s tough when they’re
dragged naked from their bed in the middle of the night.
It didn’t take long to corral the remaining bandits. A few tried to run
back to the flaming wagons, but I forced them back with a wooden
stave.
“Please,” the nude woman shrieked. “Everything I own is in that
wagon.”
“Then you know how your victims feel,” I said, prodding her back
with my staff. “You’re lucky I’m allowing you to keep your lives. After
what you did to that village, I could take that as well. And I’d be
perfectly justified in doing so.”
Fear mingled with anger in her eyes, but she didn’t move another
inch. I waited until the wagons had burned beyond the point of
salvageability, before taking a step back.
I gestured back towards the burnt out village. “You may go now.”
“Are you shitting me?” one of the women cried. Her bare breasts
jiggled angrily. “You just destroyed all of our stuff. We’ll starve if we
aren’t picked off by bandits or wild animals first.”
I shrugged. “You women are lucky. I’m allowing you your lives and
freedom.”
“Fine.” She strode towards me. I put out my hand to stop her.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“The nearest town is a few miles yonder.”
“We’re going North. You’re going any direction but North.”
She stomped her foot, causing her breasts to jiggle. “Do you know
how far away the next village is?”
 “There’s a small one not too far South of here. Not much going on
since it got burned to the ground by a group of bandits.”
She glowered at me, before abruptly turning and stalking off into
the night.
A few spat in my general direction, and I received more than my
fair share of curses and rude hand gestures. But, ultimately there
was nothing the bandits could do, but disperse and hope for the
best.
I turned to the girls. The first light of dawn was creeping over the
horizon, and I’d barely slept a wink. “See which villagers are fit to
walk, and which need to be carried.”
“Carried? We just burned all of the wagons,” Vala said.
I pointed through the ashen wreckage towards the mistress’s
carriage. Despite the twisted hatch, it was pristine. The steel sides
had protected it from the ambient fire damage.
Someone tugged at my elbow. “Calvin.”
“I told you to go.”
Kim trembled as she stared up at me. Her eyes had gone wide,
and she looked afraid.
“Please don’t make me go with them. They’re thugs. Criminals!”
“And you aren’t?” I said.
She shook her head frantically from side to side. “You have to
believe me. I only signed on with them to escape my aunt. I had no
idea they were thieves until it was too late.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Be that as it may, you chose to
sit by and do nothing while these poor women suffered.”
“I’m not strong like you.” She sniffled. “They would’ve hurt me.”
 My heart softened. She looked so pathetic.
“Fine, you can come,” I said.
Her head popped up.
“But, you’re going to have to help. With everything. Any time one
of these ladies needs assistance with anything, I expect you to assist
her.”
“Yes sir!” Her hand whizzed up to her forehead as she saluted me.
“I won’t let you down.”
“See that you don’t,” I said.
 Chapter 5

We walked together to the group of villagers. Most were awake,

though they hardly looked capable of walking to the end of the valley,
let alone to the next village.
“Do you know where that village the woman talked about is?” I
said.
She hung her head. “No, I apologize.”
“No need. Medina!”
The queen of darkness raised her head from the woman she was
assisting. “Yup?”
“I need you to do reconnaissance. Find the nearest village. It’s
supposed to be somewhere North of here. Not long, a few miles at
most.”
“You got it.” Her bat wings burst out behind her and she soared
into the air. I followed her with my eyes until she was nothing more
than a speck on the horizon.
“Mommy!” The girl sprinted past me towards the circle of villagers.
 A woman with a shaved head sat up. She coughed against the
back of her hand, then lowered her arms to scoop the girl into a big
hug.
That brought a smile to my face, and I thought back to the child I’d
helped escape from her basement cage so long ago. I wondered
where she was now.
I patted the side of my thigh and got back to work. In the end, only
half a dozen of the fifty or so survivors needed to be carried in the
wagon. I surmised that the village had lost roughly half its population
during the raid, while ten or so had died in the narrow space beneath
the wagon.
My chest tightened when I thought about the cruelty those robbers
had inflicted on the girls, and I briefly considered turning and chasing
down the survivors. But ultimately, I decided against it. We couldn’t
spare the time.
I had to console myself knowing that they would soon perish
naked and afraid, victims of nature’s harsh judgment.
The mistress’s wagons had several chests filled with clothes and
shoes, and we passed these out to the survivors. By the time
everyone was ready to go, Medina had already appeared on the
horizon.
She touched down in front of me with a flourish. “I found the place.
We’re in luck, it can’t be more than an hour or two walk from here.”
“How big is it?” I said.
I cast a critical eye over the crowd of refugees. For as long as I’d
been on Telos, I sometimes forgot that this world operated on a very
different set of rules. There were no supermarkets or soup kitchens.
Another random document with
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 A Chinese Ritz.

Page 40

From Yünnanfu we took the ordinary route via Malong, Kütsingfu,

and the Yünnan Pass into Kweichow Province. It has been admirably
and fully described in Sir A. Hosie’s latest book On the Trail of the
Opium Poppy, so it is unnecessary for me to do it, and I shall merely
describe the things which struck us as of special interest.
The journey from Yünnanfu to Anshun took us seventeen days—a
distance altogether of about three hundred miles.[6] From Anshunfu
we struck north, through much wilder and less-frequented country, in
order to visit the haunts of aboriginal tribes, and made a wide detour,
returning to the main road near Kwei Yang, the capital. We greatly
wished to visit other tribes in the eastern part of the province, but
that was absolutely vetoed by the governor, and we were obliged to
follow the high road through Ping-yüe and Huang Ping Chow to
Chen Yüen. Here we took to the waterway, from which we did not
once swerve till we reached Shanghai. The first part of the journey,
up the Yüen Kiang, is a distance of four hundred and forty-six miles,
and one may go down it in five days, if it is in flood, with a fair
chance of getting drowned! We took ten days, but a good deal of
time was spent at places on the way. Coming up stream the journey
is long and tedious: it may extend to months instead of days. The
natural superstition of the Chinese is displayed on such a journey by
the lavish use of crackers[7] and incense to ward off evil spirits.
These superstitions will die hard: nothing less vital than genuine
Christianity can displace them.
We entered Hunan on May 14, having spent forty-two days in
Kweichow Province. The frontier is indicated by two elaborate
archways, as we saw on entering the province from Yünnan.
Although Hunan is within fifteen days’ reach of Shanghai, it has so
far no facilities for travel better than by water. It is true there is a
short railway line on its western border, but we were not encouraged
to try it, and in summer there is always a good steamship line from
the capital Changsha to Hankow—a distance of two hundred and
twenty miles. The railway is part of the projected line from Hankow to
Canton, and will be of great trade value when it is completed, as
there is no good route to connect this part of the country with the
south. We intended going from Changsha into Kwangsi Province on
account of the beautiful scenery, but unfortunately that was
impossible owing to the fighting going on between the troops of the
north and the south exactly in the region where our road lay. It might
be supposed that we could have taken an alternative route through
so vast a country, but such is not the case. If you leave the great
high road (and what a misnomer that is!) there is no way except by
devious paths through endless mountain ranges, where no
accommodation and little food would be obtainable. In a province of
83,398 square miles there appear to be only two main roads running
from north to south, and three from east to west; yet it has a
population of over twenty-one millions. The two main roads running
from north to south are near the eastern and western borders, and
all the central part of the province has none. We crossed the
province entirely by water, first in a house-boat as far as Changteh,
thence in a miserable little native steamer across the Tong Ting Lake
to Changsha; from Changsha up the Siang-kiang,[8] across the Tong
Ting on to the Yangtze, which bounds the province on the north.
We had no choice, therefore, of leaving Hunan except by going to
Hankow, and we found good accommodation on a British steamer,
the Sinkiang. There are six good lines between Changsha and
Hankow—two British, a Japanese, and several Chinese steamship
companies, whose ships run in the summer; owing to the
extraordinary subsidence of the lake in winter (see Chapter VI) it has
to be discontinued then for several months. The journey from
Changsha to Hankow takes about thirty-two hours: at Hankow we
transhipped for Shanghai on a most comfortable steamer (with nice
beds), the Nganking, belonging to Messrs. Butterfield & Swire. It is
quite easy for travellers knowing no Chinese to penetrate by this
route into the very centre of China. I am so often asked about the
possibilities of doing this that I can only recommend this as a wholly
charming and easy way of getting about and much to be preferred to
railway travelling.
Hankow itself is a big bustling cosmopolitan town, with a rapidly
increasing volume of commerce. It is a link between old and new,
and has no less than thirty-six associations, called “hangs,” for
different kinds of goods. It has its foreign concessions like the
seaports, and the important trading companies have their own
floating wharves, where the big ocean liners moor, six hundred miles
away from the coast. There are said to be 25,000 junks engaged
here in river traffic, and they connect Hankow with all the central and
western provinces, often travelling as much as a hundred miles a
day.
Hankow is a great centre of educational and missionary activity,
and many European nationalities are engaged in it. The great
viceroy, Chang Chih Tung, ardently promoted education here when
he was in office. He said in his book, China’s Only Hope (p. 61), “In
order to render China powerful, and at the same time preserve our
own institutions, it is absolutely necessary that we should utilize
Western knowledge. But unless Chinese learning is made the basis
of education and a Chinese direction is given to thought, the strong
will become anarchists, and the weak slaves.” It is most deplorable
that this is ignored by so many Chinese of the present day.[9] He
urged that old Buddhist and Taoist temples, falling into decay, be
transformed into schools, and he estimated that seven out of ten,
with their property, might well be devoted to this purpose. This is
quite in accordance with what is now being done, especially in
Northern China. He argued that the temples are national property,
and should be used for the common good.
Hankow is wonderfully situated as the internal trade centre of
China, being the meeting-point of its main railways as well as
waterways (when the former shall have been completed), linking up
north, south, east and west. There are three cities in the angles
formed by the junction of the Yangtze and the Han rivers—Hanyang,
Hankow and Wu-chang; the last was far the most important in the
past, and is the capital of Hupeh, but now Hankow rivals Shanghai in
commercial importance, and is rapidly growing. The three cities have
a joint native population of 1,150,000, of which Hankow has 800,000,
and as its native quarter was completely destroyed by fire during the
civil war in 1911, the fine old monuments of the past were destroyed
with it. Its whole interest is modern.
Between Hankow and Shanghai are several important cities which
must be most interesting to visit, several of them being treaty ports
with foreign concessions, such as Chin-kiang and Wu-hu; the
steamers stop at least fourteen times on the way. It is delightful to
spend the days sitting in comfortable chairs on deck, watching all the
varied life on the river, hearing the “honk-honk” of the wild geese
soaring overhead, or watching the wedges of ducks crossing the
river on strong wing to the big marshes, or lakes, into which it pours
its overflow.
From time to time the steamer draws to the riverside and loads or
unloads its cargo. One of the most interesting stopping-places is
Nanking; indeed, it is said to be one of the most interesting in China,
and is only about two hundred miles from Shanghai. It has an hotel
kept by an Englishman. We greatly enjoyed the river scenery of the
Yangtze: there are so many picturesque monuments in this lower
part on the numerous islands and along its banks; although it has not
the wild charm of the gorges, it is well worth making the trip. Now
there is a steam service all the way up to Chunking, so that travellers
can easily do one of the most beautiful journeys in the world at
reasonable cost, in reasonable comfort and in reasonable time,
going about a thousand miles up the finest of the great rivers of the
world.[10]
On reaching Shanghai I had to part with my travelling companion
and start the journey home alone, but as events proved my steamer
was delayed, and I had several weeks in which to visit the coastal
provinces of Chekiang, Fukien and Kwantung, and to study the
student movement, as described in the concluding chapters of this
book.
 Chapter II
The Model Governor—Yen Hsi-Shan

“Who is the true and who is the false statesman?

“The true statesman is he who brings order out of disorder;
who first organizes and then administers the government of
his own country; and having made a nation, seeks to
reconcile the national interest with those of Europe and of
mankind. He is not a mere theorist, nor yet a dealer in
expedients; the whole and the parts grow together in his
mind; while the head is conceiving, the hand is executing.
Although obliged to descend to the world, he is not of the
world. His thoughts are fixed not on power, or riches, or
extension of territory, but on an ideal state, in which all the
citizens have an equal chance of health and life, and the
highest education is within the reach of all, and the moral and
intellectual qualities of every individual are freely developed,
and ‘the idea of good’ is the animating principle of the whole.
Not the attainment of freedom alone, or of order alone, but
how to unite freedom with order is the problem which he has
to solve.
“The statesman who places before himself these lofty aims
has undertaken a task which will call forth all his powers.”—
Benjamin Jowett.

Chapter II[11]
The Model Governor—Yen Hsi-Shan
 The province of
Shansi boasts
having the best
governor in the
Chinese Empire,
and he has
accomplished in the
last ten years a
remarkable change
in the entire
province—a
province which is
considerably larger
than Great Britain.
The city of Taiyuanfu
is perhaps the most
striking evidence of
this change. The
whole place is
unrecognizable
since the days when
I first knew it in
1893. The streets
are wide and well
kept; at night they are lighted by electricity, and an efficient police
force keeps order and regulates the traffic, whereas in old days the
crowd used to fight their quarrels out in their own sweet way. The
horrible pariah dogs which infested the streets without let or
hindrance have entirely disappeared; for a dog, licence has now to
be obtained, and any unlicensed dogs are promptly destroyed. The
Governor Yen Hsi-Shan is the promoter of education in all its
manifold aspects; though not a Christian, he realizes that there must
be a radical change in morals, as well as in education, if China is to
become a strong nation, capable of taking her place among the
Great Powers.
To this end he has formed an organization called the “Wash the
Heart Society,” which strongly reminds one of the Mission of John
the Baptist, although he does not recognize the fact that repentance
is only the first step on the upward path. A large hall has been built in
a nice open part of the city, close to the city wall, but, alas! not in
Chinese style. The Governor is unfortunately under the influence of a
Teuton, who is the worst possible adviser in matters of architecture,
as well as other things. The hall is a deplorable mixture of every
conceivable style of Western art; it holds 3,000 people and services
are held there every Sunday morning, each lasting one hour, and
each for the benefit of a separate class of people—merchants,
military, students. So far there seems to be no provision for women,
but perhaps that will come later. The population is bidden to come
and reflect on its evil ways and to seek amendment of life. A special
feature of the service is a time of silence for self-examination. This
Society was started in the province of Shansi, but I found its halls in
other parts of the Empire as well, and it is a hopeful sign of the
times. The approach to the hall is by a good macadamized road, and
near by is a tea-house beside the tiny lake—the Haizabien—and a
bandstand where the élite of the city gather on summer evenings to
listen to sweet music and sip countless cups of tea.
 Yen Hsi Shan, Statesman.

Page 49

Big houses are being built by wealthy Chinese in this

neighbourhood, and there are large Government schools for girls as
well as boys. Facing the entrance to a girls’ school, which is housed
in a disused temple, we saw a list pasted up on a wall, giving the
names of successful girl students in a recent Government
examination. What an amazing contrast to the old days, when no
Government schools for girls were in existence; they only came into
being since the downfall of the old regime in 1907, but the Chinese
Ministry of Education, which based its present system on that of
Japan, is recognizing the importance of women’s education and is
encouraging it by this official recognition of success in examinations.
It is not sufficient only to give the women schools, but it is
imperative to supply them also with scope for wider culture and
congenial activities when they leave school. To this end a kind of
club, or institute, is to be started at once on ground opposite the
Governor’s hall, and it is in response to the ladies’ own request: they
have long been saying, “The men have their Y.M.C.A., why cannot
we have such a place?” and although the mission ladies have done
their best to meet the need, obviously no private house can be
adequate, not to mention the fact that Chinese ladies have too much
self-respect to be willing to be always guests of ladies with limited
incomes, to whom they can make but scant return. It is hoped that
the new hall will do much to forward the woman’s movement in
Taiyuanfu; there will be social gatherings, lectures on hygiene (for
illustration of which there is to be a complete installation of sanitary
fittings), a child-welfare department, invalid cooking, lessons on
nursing, and many other classes connected with women’s welfare.
There is room for a garden and tennis courts in order that recreation
and physical culture may be encouraged and the place made
attractive to girls as well as women. The Governor is promoting this
last matter indirectly, by putting a fine on foot-binding, which is
unfortunately still extremely prevalent. The movement that took place
some years ago in favour of a natural foot seems to have died down,
and everywhere there is foot-binding in full swing. The queue has
practically disappeared from China during the last few years, and
men wear their hair mostly rather short, while some go in for a clean
shave. I find this quite attractive when the skull is well-shaped, and if
the man is in immaculate summer garb, the effect of cleanliness is
wonderful. If the women of China were less conservative, and would
make an equally clean sweep of foot-binding, it would make an
immense difference to their health.
The Governor has encouraged physical culture not only indirectly
but directly as well, for he even went so far as to ride in a bicycle
race once in Shansi, and in 1918 public sports took place at
Taiyuanfu, which Sir John Jordan honoured by his presence, having
taken the tiresome nineteen hours’ journey from Peking for the
purpose.[12] A disused temple acted as the grand-stand and an
angle of the city wall was converted into the arena, the tiers of seats
being hewn in the base of the wall. Quite a fine sports ground was
prepared under the superintendence of one of the missionaries,
whose advice in practical matters is continually sought by the
Governor. The only matter for regret on this occasion was the
deplorable weather, for even sunny Shansi has moments when a
dusty fit of temper obscures its lustre.
One of the Governor’s most valuable new institutions is a farm for
cattle-breeding. It is just outside the city and has been successfully
started by an American and his wife. The main object is to improve
the breed of horses, cows, sheep, etc., and for this purpose stock is
being imported from the United States, whose Government has
recently supplied the necessary transport for horses, when this
difficulty of shipment arose with regard to animals already
purchased; a large number of sheep have already been imported
from Australia. Shansi is a suitable province for this experiment and
missionaries have already proved there the excellent results of
cross-breeding cows, obtaining supplies of milk of improved quality,
as well as largely-increased quantity. In a recent book on China,
highly recommended to me, an American writer states that there is
only one milk-giving cow in the Empire, and that tinned milk supplies
the rest, but evidently the traveller had not travelled far!
Another of the Governor’s institutions is a College of Agriculture
and Forestry in connexion with which there are many mulberry trees
being planted for the promotion of sericulture. This has never been
pursued with success in Shansi; hitherto only the commoner kinds of
silk have been produced, but it is considered a patriotic deed to
promote it, and the most exquisite and costly silk is now being made
in a disused temple, by Yen’s order. Perhaps the almost religious
way in which it was regarded in bygone times, when the Empress
herself took a ceremonial part in the rearing of silkworms 3,000
years ago, has caused this revival of schools of sericulture. I visited
one in the South, and after seeing all the processes was invited to
take a handful of worms away as a memento! Governor Yen has
sent 100 students to France to study textiles. Afforestation is
nowhere more needed than in Shansi, and it is to be hoped that the
Government will push this side of the work of the college. We found
such a college had been started in remote Kweichow also, cut off
from most of the new movements in China. Plantations had been
made in various parts, but they will need to be carefully guarded, as
the poverty of the inhabitants lead them to destroy ruthlessly every
twig they can for firewood; where there used to be large forests
nothing now remains of them. The genius of the Chinese race for
agriculture is so remarkable that one may well expect great results
from these colleges: the vast population has been able in the past to
produce food more or less according to its needs, but when there is
a dearth of rain, or other cause producing bad harvests, there is at
once terrible scarcity, and the application of Western knowledge and
agricultural implements ought to be of considerable value.
There are in some parts such as Chekiang as many as four
harvests per annum, and no sooner is one reaped than the land is
prepared for the next. The introduction of new trees, vegetables,
etc., would add greatly to the wealth of the country, and with its
unrivalled climate and soil there is every reason to promote the
multiplication of agricultural colleges.
One of the most noticeable changes in Taiyuanfu is the complete
absence of the beggar of hideous mien, who dogs the steps of
strangers in every other city in China, and who seems to be the most
immovable feature of life in the East. He was an integral part, one
had been taught to believe, of the social fabric, and as hallowed as
the very temple itself; yet Taiyuanfu has the glory of having solved
this difficult problem. All the male beggars have been collected into
the splendid old temple of Heaven and Hell to be taught a trade, so
as to be able to earn a living, and they are not dismissed until they
are capable of doing so. They seemed quite a jolly crew, and were
hard at work in various buildings, though others of these were closed
for the New Year. The most interesting part of the institution was the
town band which has been formed out of the younger part of the
beggar population. They were summoned to play for our
amusement, and they ended by playing for their own. The
performance was most creditable, especially considering that the
band was only seven months old; if there was some defect in tune,
there was an excellent sense of rhythm, which I have found lacking
in many bands of long standing at home; and it was really fascinating
to see the gusto with which they all played. The band has already
taken part in various town functions, and is making itself useful. The
music is, of course, Western, as are the instruments. Chinese
musical instruments do not give enough sound, as a rule, for large
gatherings.
The rules of the workhouse seem good, and the inmates can earn
money (five dollars per month) so as to have something in hand
when they leave. The women’s department is in another part of the
city and we had not time to visit it. It is very noticeable how the
temples are being everywhere used for such useful purposes, for the
housing question is here, as at home, a serious problem. No doubt it
would be good from a practical point of view that these buildings
should be replaced by new ones, built for the purpose, but the loss of
beauty would be incalculable. The temple of Heaven and Hell has
glorious turquoise-blue roofs and handsome tiles and large
medallions of green pottery on the walls. It is the most beautiful of all
the temples, in my opinion, though the Imperial Temple, where the
Dowager Empress stayed on her historic flight to Sianfu, is also very
fine. This is now used as a school for the teaching of the new script,
which is a simplified form of the Chinese character. It was devised in
1918 by the Ministry of Education in order to make literacy easier for
the population. The ordinary Chinese boy takes three or four years
longer than the Western boy to learn to read. When the old system
of education was abolished in 1907 a new one had to be devised,
but it is an extremely difficult thing to carry out such a reform
throughout so vast an empire. Governor Yen Hsi-Shan is an ardent
promoter of the scheme, and he has established the school for the
express purpose of promoting it. Every household in Taiyuanfu is
required to send at least one member to study the script; in order to
make it easier, there are a few characters, with their equivalent in the
old script, put up outside many of the shops, so that people may
learn it as they go about their business. Not only so, but all over the
city may be seen notice boards with the two scripts in parallel
columns, and these boards have generally some one studying them,
not infrequently with notebook in hand. Many of the schools are
teaching it, but it is difficult to add this to an already well-filled time-
table. It may be of interest to know that it is “a phonetic system
containing thirty-nine symbols (divided into three denominations, viz.
twenty-four initials, three medials and twelve finals).”—North China
Daily News.
This is one part of an important movement for the unification of the
language, the importance of which can only be fully realized by those
who have travelled widely in China. Not only every province varies
from every other province, but also every district from every other
district. There are sixty-four dialects in Fukien alone. The unification
of the Empire would be greatly promoted by the unification of the
language, and this has been frankly recognized by the Ministry of
Education, which has issued a notice to that effect:
“We recognize that because of the difference between our
classical and spoken language, education in the schools makes slow
progress, and the keen edge of the spirit of union both between
individuals and in society at large has thereby been blunted.
Moreover, if we do not take prompt steps to make the written and the
spoken language the same quickly, any plans for developing our
civilization will surely fail.
“This Ministry of Education has for several years made positive
advances in promoting such a National Language. All educationists,
moreover, throughout the country are in favour of a change by which
the teaching of the national spoken language shall take the place of
the classical language. Inasmuch, therefore, as all desire to promote
education in the National Language, we deem it wise not to delay
longer in the matter.
 “We therefore now order that from the autumn of this current year,
beginning in the primary schools for the first and second years, all
shall be taught the National Spoken Language, rather than the
National Classical Language. Thus the spoken and written
languages will become one. This Ministry requests all officials to take
notice and act accordingly.”
It is not sufficient, as we all know, merely to issue such an order.
Governor Yen has taken various practical ways of enforcing it.
Posters with large script characters have been widely set up,
exhorting the people to study the script, and a daily paper is issued
in it. He has had 2,500,000 copies printed of a simple script primer,
and has published at a nominal price, and in vast numbers, various
educational books, such as What the People Ought to Know,[13]
New Criminal Laws of the Republic, and Handbook for Village
Leaders. The last-named is of special importance in view of the fact
that by his order reading- and lecture-rooms have been established
in all the cities and large villages of the province, where lectures and
talks are given from time to time on various subjects of interest to the
people. A regular educational campaign may be said to have been
inaugurated by Yen. On every post and wall in the remotest villages
may be seen maxims inculcating honesty, diligence, industry,
patriotism and military preparedness.
 Temple of Heaven and Hell, Workhouse.

Page 53

An important new book which Governor Yen has recently

published, is called What Every Family Ought to Know, and is a
description of what he conceives to be a good home and the
happiness which results from it. “If we desire to have a good home,
virtue is of first importance,” he says, but alas! he gives no clue as to
how it is to be achieved.
The chief rules for family life are, (i) Friendliness, (ii) Magnanimity,
(iii) Dignity, (iv) Rectitude, (v) Diligence, (vi) Economy, (vii)
Cleanliness, (viii) Quietness. He makes the Head of the House
responsible, as setting the example, and exhorts him to repentance
(if he falls short) before God and his ancestors. The whole book is
eminently practical, and he recommends what would be a startling
change of immemorial custom, that the son should not marry until he
is grown up and able to support a wife in a home of his own—
namely, not under his father’s roof. This is an innovation which is
beginning to be seen elsewhere, as the result of foreign intercourse.
As a writer, Governor Yen is concise and practical: he has
completely broken away from the old Chinese classical style. His last
work is written, like all his books, in simple mandarin instead of in
beautiful classical mandarin, so that every one may be able to
understand it. This is the more noteworthy, because the additional
cost entailed was $5,400 per leaf; he states this fact in the preface of
What the People Ought to Know.
His one object appears to be the uplift of the people in every way,
and he believes in God and in righteousness. As an index of his view
of life it may be interesting to quote a few of the forty Family Maxims
which form the concluding chapter of his above-named book.

“Unjust wealth brings calamity.”

“Vitiated air kills more people than prison.”
“To be cruel to one’s own is to be worse than a beast.”
“Of people who lack a sense of responsibility—the fewer
the better.”
“If your conscience tells you a thing is wrong, it is wrong:
don’t do it.”
 “The experience of the uneducated is much to be preferred
to the inexperience of the educated.”
“The wise are self-reliant, the stupid apply to others.”
“There is no greater calamity than to give reins to one’s
desires, and no greater evil than self-deception.”

Governor Yen, it will be seen, from his words as well as from his
deeds, is a clear-sighted, independent thinker, and he believes in
religious liberty. His reforms deal with a wide range of things—
opium-smoking, narcotics, polygamy, infanticide, early marriages,
early burial, gambling, training and morals of the troops, compulsory
free education for boys, the introduction of uniform weights and
measures, alteration in legal affairs. All these and other matters have
within the last five years occupied his thoughts and been practically
dealt with—no small achievement, especially when the insecurity of
his position and lack of trained men to carry out his projects is taken
into consideration.
As will be readily understood, all these enterprises cost money,
and taxation is never looked on kindly by the taxed, so there is some
discontent among the people of Shansi, and the Central
Government, instead of showing satisfaction at the prosperity and
good government of the province, which is in striking contrast to that
of so many others, has taken the opportunity of threatening to
impose a Civil Governor in Shansi—that means a heavy squeeze,
and in consequence, the stoppage of many of the Governor’s
schemes. He is continually threatened by those who would like to
see him out of the way, and is consequently rarely seen, and then
strongly guarded.
The system of having military governors is extremely bad, but in
the case of an exceptional man like Yen it has worked well, and the
Government saved its “face” by uniting the civil and military
governorship in his one person. At the present time the Government
has ordered the military governor of Shensi to retire in favour of
another Tuchun. He refuses to do so, and his various military friends
are all hurrying to the rescue. It is estimated that there are one and a
half million soldiers in China, largely unpaid, so that they are glad of
any excuse to loot and pillage. Feng Yu Hsiang has been sent up to
Shensi by the Government to compel the Tuchun to leave, and has
carried out the work with brilliant success. He has in vain been
demanding money to pay his troops, while turbulent, unscrupulous
generals have been receiving large sums to prevent them from
committing excesses.
The Tuchuns have been encouraging opium-growing in order to
get funds, and now there is hardly a province where it is not done
more or less openly. Governor Yen has set his face against it, but
smuggling goes on all the time, mainly from Japan, and morphia is
also becoming increasingly popular. No wonder Young China is
clamouring for the suppression of the Tuchuns and disarmament:
there can be no peace in China till this is done.
One of the most interesting places in the city is the model gaol,
which was planned and carried out by Mr. Hsü, who studied in Japan
and has progressive views. It covers a considerable space of ground
and is entirely one-storied; it is in the shape of a wheel, with many
spokes radiating from the centre. The entrance is charming, as
unlike as it is possible to imagine to any English prison. Within the
gates is a lovely garden, for Chinese are first-rate gardeners, and the
prisoners raise all the vegetables necessary for the inmates, and a
grand show of flowers to boot. An avenue of trees leads to the
offices, and when we were there in February we saw beautiful little
trees of prunus in full bloom on the office table! All the prisoners
have to work at useful trades, and if it were not for their fetters it
would be difficult to imagine one was in a prison at all. The
workshops were bright and airy; every one looked well cared for and
not unhappy. A feature of the workrooms was the boards on which
all tools were hung up when not in use, each tool being numbered
and outlined on the board, so that it should be hung on its own peg.
Every kind of trade was in full swing, and the work is so well
executed that there is never any lack of orders. Certainly one would
be only too glad to have things made under such good conditions.
The sleeping accommodation was excellent: the cells and beds of
remarkable cleanliness and comfort; no one could object to them.
The bath-house was of some interest. All the inmates have to
undergo a weekly bath on Sundays, in batches of ten at a time, and
their clothes are also kept thoroughly clean. The kitchen looked most
attractive, and the rice and soup, which form the staple of their food,
compared favourably with what one sees in the inns. The prisoners,
too, are allowed as much as they like at their two daily meals.
Throughout the Army there are no more than two meals a day. The
place of punishment looked uncommonly like a theatre stage, and
one cannot but hope that soon all executions will take place within
the prison precincts instead of in public; but as Europe has not yet
learnt to do this, one cannot be surprised that China has not.
After inspecting the Delco Engine, which provides light for the
whole place, we went to visit the women’s prison, which is within the
same enclosure as the men’s, though separated by a wall. It was
very much smaller in extent but equally well kept, and even, I must
add, attractive. The matron was a pleasant-faced, comely woman,
and her own room quite a picture. The white-curtained bed, pretty
coverlet, vase of flowers, and various little treasures suggested a
home, and as she took us round, it was easy to see that she was
happy in her work. We passed through the dining-room, where the
tables were spread with clean cloths, and bowls and chopsticks were
ready for the forthcoming meal. The prisoners were only about thirty
in number, and were busy making mattresses and clothing, knitting
and crocheting. It was suggested that they should sing a hymn,
which they did with evident pleasure, and some of them talked with
the missionary, who comes to see them once a week. The matron is
not a Christian, but finds the singing and reading does them so much
good that she has taken to learning and to teaching them herself.
The missionaries were originally invited by the master to come and
speak to the prisoners, and it is now a regular custom. One woman
who is in for murder has become quite a changed character, and her
term has been shortened in consequence of her good behaviour.
Some were in for opium-smoking, which is here a punishable
offence, while in other parts of the empire it is frankly encouraged.
The prisoners are allowed to have a visitor once a month, but no
complaints are allowed to be made. Visits are stopped if this