Hsu’s sneer dropped to a scowl. “No one enters here,” said Hsu, pointing the tip of his rattan staff at Danhieras’ face. “…Without first passing my scrutiny. Now remove your clothes so that I do not mistakenly identify you as a lowly assassin!”
Danhieras had heard enough of Hsu’s sarcasm to last this and many more lifetimes. “I said step aside, Hsu. I don’t have time to waste.”
Hsu struck the floor with the cane. “Very well! If you refuse to be tested as an assassin, you will be treated as one! Guards! Do not allow this criminal to pass or leave!” The door slid shut and the guards shuffled back in their original positions, halfway drawing their swords.
“Hsu!” shouted Danhieras, “Open this damned door you rat-faced degenerate!”
The guards that usually stare straight ahead now watched the raving foreigner with nervous concern.
He could hear the retreating clack of Hsu’s cane striking against the floor. “Enough!” growled Danhieras, pulling his loose sleeves up around his elbows. He outstretched his right arm and slowly unfolded his palm towards the floor. After clearing his throat he began a low hum while concentrating on the space between his hand and the slate floor. When his low hum began to resonate, he broke into strange words. The thick wood beams overhead began to creak and pop, while dust motes cascaded slowly down. The guards stirred while watching the foreigner speak to the floor—strange stories circulated about this man who could produce flame at will but not get burnt.
His voice rose until a spot in the floor began to glow. The glow blazed with sudden ferocity and began to flash with brilliant intensity. “Goodbye boys!” Danhieras shouted, as he stepped forward. Lightning crashed and the foreigner was gone. The stink of sulfur hung in the air and the ears of the guards rang from the terrible thunderclap. None dared move—their job was to prevent anyone uninvited from accessing the door. To leave it unprotected meant execution.
Emperor Shi Huangdi sat on his low chair, dressed in his battle uniform, as he has done since rumors of the approaching black hordes began to reach the city. He had not journeyed outside of the outer fortress walls in several months and had recently increased the number of guards from two hundred to three thousand. In front of him, rested two battle-worn swords, one long and heavy, pulled from the dead fingertips of General Kwai. The second was shorter but light and balanced—it worked best with enemies close by. Next to the rack was a quiver, stuffed with arrows made so perfectly that neither arrow varied from its neighbor more than the weight of the lightest feather. The bow rested behind the emperor’s chair and was tested personally by him twice per day. If the cord broke the Chamberlain responsible and his entire family would be arrested.
The weapon would then be tested with a new cord by executing the Chamberlain and in turn, each of his family members.
