The sun had slipped low to wash the grove in amber light when the barbarian finally stirred. Her long shadow fell over him as his eyelids flickered open. With a startled sound, he grabbed his sword and sprang to his feet.
She brought her swords up defensively. For the ox that he was, the barbarian was unexpectedly agile. She had to remember that.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘Why do you risk your life to save a stranger?’
He peered at her, struggling to focus. Then he sank back to his knees and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. ‘Please. Slowly.’
The side of his chin had been scraped from his fall. With a lost look, he surveyed the barrier of trees, oddly vulnerable despite the sheer strength in him.
Cautiously, she slid one sword back into her boot and searched through the knapsack slung over her shoulder. She held out a waterskin, then watched in fascination as he took a long drink, his muscles gliding with every move. Centuries-old writings proclaimed the Great Empire of the West as a land of tall, powerful giants. For once, it seemed the accounts hadn’t been exaggerated.
‘You stayed,’ he said with some surprise as he handed the skin back to her.
‘I owed you a debt.’
The corner of his mouth lifted crookedly and his blue eyes slid over her. ‘To see you is payment enough.’
She must have been confused by the mix of dialects and his atrocious inflection. A man wouldn’t use such sugared tones when she was disguised this way.
She squared her shoulders. ‘Where did you learn how to speak?’
‘Why?’
‘You sound like you were taught in a brothel.’
He exploded, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter. ‘Can’t deny that,’ he said with a grin.
The words of his native tongue sounded jarring to her ears, but she recognised them. ‘I can try to speak in your language,’ she offered.
‘You know it?’ A deep frown appeared over his forehead. ‘Few in the empire do.’
She clamped her mouth shut, biting down on her lip. ‘My father is a tea merchant. He travels far outside the empire along the trade routes.’
The explanation seemed feeble at best, but his expression relaxed. ‘They call me Ryam.’
‘Ryam.’ She tested the sound of it. ‘What does it mean?’
He remained seated in the grass, his arms dangling carelessly over his knees. ‘It means nothing.’
No mention of a family name as was the custom. She didn’t ask about it for fear of being impolite.
‘My name is Li, family name Chang. You can call me Brother Li.’
‘Brother? Anyone can see you’re a woman.’
Her hand tightened on the sword. Suddenly she didn’t like the way he smiled at her at all.
‘I’m not going to harm you,’ he said quickly, holding up his hands, palms out. ‘I ran into a horde of men waving knives to help you, remember? You kicked me pretty hard for all my trouble.’
She blushed, remembering exactly where she had kicked him. ‘My name is Chang Ai Li,’ she relented.
‘Ailey. That’s a pretty name.’
She ignored the compliment. ‘What is a foreigner doing so deep in the empire?’
‘What is a woman doing travelling alone with a group of men?’
His eyes met hers without wavering, as if she were the strange one. She was becoming more curious about him with each passing moment, but it wouldn’t do to linger out in the woods with a barbarian.
‘I see now that you are not hurt.’ She spared him a final glance. ‘Farewell then.’
‘Wait, where are you going?’
He shot to his feet and her breath caught as he stretched to his full height before her. Her gaze lifted from the expanse of his chest to meet his eyes. They were so pale, like clear, cloudless skies.
‘I—I need to get back to my bodyguards,’ she stammered, her throat suddenly dry. ‘They will be looking for me.’
‘Are you sure you want to do that?’
He continued to block her path. With his size he could overpower her easily, but the look on his face showed nothing but concern. Something told her he wasn’t the sort to use his strength against a woman.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘That rice was meant for you. Whatever was in there, it was enough to smuggle you out of the province before you woke up. A face like yours would fetch a high price in the pleasure dens.’
A sickening feeling twisted her stomach. ‘My guards would not betray me.’
‘How long have you known them?’
She fiddled at the collar of her oversized tunic. Old Wu had hired those men under desperate circumstances, but she knew that loyalty could not be bought. Not with all the gold on this earth.
‘It’s nearly sundown,’ he said, glancing at the sky. ‘You had better stay here in case any of that scum is still about.’
Stay the night here with him and no one around for miles? Her heart thudded as if trying to escape the tight cloth bound around her breasts. He had rescued her. She should have nothing to fear from him, but there was something primal and dangerous in him. Masculine. Yang. He stood too close, close enough for her to catch his scent—an enticing mix of leather and the autumn smell of the woods that invited her to tempt fate. She couldn’t let her guard down.
With a steadying breath, she stepped back. ‘How can I be sure it is safe here?’
‘You don’t want to face those smugglers alone.’ He regarded her with a half-smile. ‘Unless you intend to fight off all of them with those knives of yours.’
‘They’re not knives. These are butterfly swords.’ She shoved the second blade away.
‘You can get back to the road in the morning,’ he said. ‘I won’t touch you if that is what you’re afraid of. I’ll start a fire.’ He moved away to gather kindling, allowing her space to consider.
Everything he spoke of made sense. Her guards had fallen too easily. Someone among them had betrayed her. Once Li Tao discovered she was gone, he would send his men in a black swarm over the area. Instinct told her she needed to keep moving, but to where? She was stranded in the southern province with night nearly upon them and no road to guide her. She laced her hands together and lowered her head in thought.
Her gaze drifted to the sword at the foreigner’s belt. The blade was larger than the ones used among the soldiers of the empire. A weapon designed to cleave armour and crush bone. He had wielded it with obvious skill.
More importantly, he didn’t recognise her.
A new plan started to form in her head. Father would call it reckless. Mother—her mother would expend much more than a single word to describe her foolishness. But what could she rely on out here besides her butterfly swords and her instincts? Even though her instincts had proven wrong with the hired guards, she had a sense of yuán fèn about this swordsman. That she would meet a barbarian, of all people, on this journey—what could that be but fate between them?
And she had no other choice.
Ailey paced as he gathered fallen twigs. She circled the clearing once, hands on her hips. The tips of the yellowed grass brushed