Book 12: Chapter 10: Wouldn’t That Be Nice

Book 12: Chapter 10: Wouldn’t That Be Nice

“I’d be a lot more comfortable with this if I was going with you,” said General Mo.

Sen glanced at the man before returning his gaze to the army. The final preparations to leave had been started days before, but it would still be late morning before the actual marching began. There was just so much cargo to be dealt with that the delay couldn’t be avoided. No wonder armies move so slowly, thought Sen. Even beyond the physical limitations of mortals, this is a tedious process.

“To be frank, General Mo, I’d be more comfortable with that as well. But it can’t be avoided. If I left anyone else in charge of the armies here, I suspect that I’d have to conquer this city when I returned. If the city still stood at all.”

General Mo grumbled under his breath before he said, “I don’t think that’s likely to happen. It took more bloodshed than it should have, but I think you finally got the point across to everyone that this is your kingdom now.”

“Maybe,” replied Sen, “but I’d rather know that you’re the one Jing will be relying on in my absence.”

“Not the cultivators?” asked the grizzled soldier.

“He might need to rely on them if the city is attacked, but cultivators have their own concerns.”

“I see,” said the General, sounding like he most certainly did not see.

Sen offered the man a gentle smile and said, “You don’t really know much about cultivators, do you?”

“That makes sense. Cultivation is demanding in many ways. For example, growing in strength is not a foregone conclusion. It requires an extraordinary amount of work to advance. If a cultivator loses focus, loses discipline, they can find themselves stuck. It’s one of the reasons why cultivators have compounds or retreat from the world.”

“They don’t seem that disciplined to me,” muttered General Mo.

“They aren’t as disciplined as they should be when it comes to interacting with mortals. I won’t deny that. But most of them are very disciplined when it comes to training.”

General Mo frowned as he considered that before he gave a grudging nod.

“There are soldiers like that, too.”

“The good news for all of the mortals here is that they’ll probably retreat back into their sect compounds unless they need to fight more spirit beasts. I’m more concerned about strictly mortal problems.”

“You think the noble houses will act against—” Mo paused before he finished with, “the governor?”

“I think they might under the right circumstances. The circumstances become a great deal less right if he’s got a dependable general at hand to apply a boot to unruly throats.”

“He won’t like ordering me to do that,” said the general.

“I know he won’t. He’ll hesitate because he doesn’t want to do that to people or because he’ll fall into old habits. That’s why I am ordering you to do it if you deem it necessary,” said Sen, holding out a sealed scroll.

“What’s this?” asked Mo.

“Your written orders to take action.”

“You know, with something like this in hand, I could just take control of the city?”

“And if I thought there was even the slightest chance that you would do that, that scroll you’re holding wouldn’t exist.”

General Mo made an irritated noise and said, “I hate that I’m so predictable.”

“It’s not a bad thing that you don’t lust for power.”

“But everyone knowing that makes it impossible for me to pretend that I might. Makes it hard to expose traitors that way.”

Sen gave Mo an enigmatic smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t waste your time worrying about that, General. I handed that problem over to people who excel at such games.”

“You and your terrifying women,” muttered the general.

“I’d be careful who you say that to. I expect that just about all of them would be very offended to hear you call them my women.”

“Are you offended?”

“They don’t need me to be offended on their behalf. They’re all perfectly capable of expressing their displeasure without my help. I just thought I should give you fair warning.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

General Mo squinted his eyes like he had a bad headache.

“I’m so old.”

“You said you had children, right?” asked Sen with an innocent smile.

“I do.”

“Any daughters?”

“Two.”

“So, do you call your wife and daughters your women

The general paled a little at that and said, “I see your point.”

Before that conversation could go any further, a messenger came running up to General Mo. This messenger was just the latest in an endless stream of messengers who needed clarification of one thing or another before Sen and the army marched away. The messenger bowed to Sen before turning to General Mo and handing over a small slip of paper. The general opened it and read. Sen could tell from the way Mo’s eye started to twitch that this was some waste of time that should have been solved by someone much less important than the general.

“Lord Lu, if you will excuse me for a moment,” said Mo, before dragging the messenger a little way off to one side.

Sen did his best not to eavesdrop, but he definitely heard the words latrine and forever. The messenger was nodding their head vigorously, eyes wide, before they fled the general’s wrath. The grizzled old warrior seemed to take a few moments to regain his calm before he came back over to Sen.

“Makes you wonder how they got their positions in the first place, doesn’t it?” asked Sen.

“You heard?”

“I didn’t need to hear. I could just tell. Most of the messengers sent to me are exactly the same thing.”

“I’m sure they are,” said Mo before waving his hand at the chaos around them. “It might not look like it, but this army is going to be ready to march very soon.”

“Really?” asked Sen. “They don’t look ready to leave.”

“They don’t all leave at the same time. Roads are only so wide. It’ll take a couple of hours for everyone to start marching, but you have to be at the head of the army. That group is almost ready to leave. They’re the bored people over there,” said Mo, nodding at a group of mounted officers.

“Oh, good. My least favorite people,” griped Sen.

Mo snorted in amusement before he turned serious and said, “If you have any goodbyes left to say, you should do it now. And take it from an old man, you don’t want to miss a chance to say goodbye before going to war.”

Sen nodded. He trusted that the general knew what he was talking about when it came to these things.

“I’ve said most of my goodbyes, but there are one or two left. I think I’ll take your advice and go do that now.”

Sen had felt Grandmother Lu arrive shortly before. Things had been tense enough between them since he refused to soften his position on the conscripted mortals that he was surprised she’d come. Then again, she’d lived a lot longer than Sen. Maybe she’d learned some of the same harsh lessons that had prompted General Mo’s advice. He walked to where she was standing. Some wise soldier had led her to a nearby tent and then posted large, angry-looking soldiers outside to keep her from being bothered by anyone. The men straightened when he approached and bowed.

“Thank you for watching over my grandmother,” he told them.

They didn’t smile, but their faces did become somewhat less angry looking. Sen decided that was probably their version of looking pleased. He stepped into the tent. Grandmother Lu was sitting at a table and drinking tea. There was a second cup set out, so he took the seat across from her. He poured himself a cup of tea. They sipped in silence for a time before the awkwardness became more than Sen could stand.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said, and immediately wished he’d said anything else.

“We had a disagreement. I didn’t disown you.”

“Had? We’re not having it anymore?”

“You’re about to march this army to war. It’s clear you don’t mean to change your mind. You’re winning by default. I can think it’s the wrong choice and not want something terrible to happen to you at the same time.”

Sen wanted to defend his decision, but he resisted that impulse. This was something they just weren’t going to agree about. Arguing about it again wouldn’t be helpful or change anyone’s mind. They’d just waste their last little bit of time together for what might be years on having a fight. He didn’t want that. It seemed obvious that she didn’t want that. Sen recognized that this wasn’t the same thing as resolving the argument. He understood himself enough to know that he wouldn’t have recognized that even a few years earlier. He would have thought that this was her conceding the argument. Instead, this was them mutually agreeing to ignore it because there were more important things they needed to talk about.

“That’s fair,” said Sen.

Grandmother Lu pursed her lips before she said, “I know you’re terribly powerful now, Sen, but you can’t be overconfident. More than one nascent soul cultivator has been killed rather than ascending. I don’t want you to be one of them.”

“I’ll do my best to—” he sighed. “I can’t say that I’ll do my best to be careful. We both know this will be dangerous, and cultivators will have to do most of the real fighting. I’ll try not to take too many absurd risks.”

She considered him for a moment before a hint of a smile crossed her lips.

“For you, that would be an actual improvement.”

Sen gave her a rueful smile.

“I wish I could say you were wrong.”

“Maybe you could try to not advance in the middle of a battle.”

Sen shot a hateful glare upward before he said, “Wouldn’t that be nice. A real change of pace.”

With the tension between them at least temporarily set aside, Sen found it easier to just talk to Grandmother Lu again. Yet, as much as he wanted that moment to last, the world kept moving around them. Twenty minutes later, a guard poked his head into the tent.

“General Mo to see you, Lord Lu,” said the man in a voice that was practically a growl.

“Thank you. Please send him in,” said Sen.

The general entered the tent and offered a respectful bow to a spot somewhere between Sen and Grandmother Lu.

“Lady Lu, I apologize for interrupting.”

“Don’t worry, General. We’ve all known this was coming for days.”

Mo gave Grandmother Lu a thankful nod before looking at Sen.

“It’s time, Lord Lu.”

Sen rose from the table and stepped over to hug Grandmother Lu.

“Be careful,” she whispered to him.

“As careful as I can,” he promised.

“And come back occasionally if you can.”

“As you say, Grandmother,” answered Sen, gently withdrawing from the hug and turning to the General. “Lead the way, General.”

When they stepped outside the tent, Sen pretended he didn’t hear the muffled sounds of Grandmother Lu crying. Instead, he turned to the guards.

“She is not to be disturbed for any reason. If anyone tries, kill them.”

If the guards found that order surprising, it didn’t show.

They just bowed and answered, “Yes, Lord Lu.”

Soon after, Sen found himself sitting on a horse that he didn’t need and leading the army onto the road south. The people of the city lined the road for miles. Some of them cheered. Some of them called out to family members in the procession behind him. Some of them looked like they were attending a funeral. Through it all, Sen forced himself to maintain an expression of calm confidence. It was what was expected of him.