Red was not a shameful color. No matter that the new name for cultivation spoke of it as the lowest realm. Sun Shao stood tall and straight in the den of serpents, the lacquered steel of his armor shining bright, his broad shoulders unbowed, his crimson hair pooling about his shoulders. Though he bore no weapon here, any cultivator with eyes could see the shadow of his spear in his spirit, as much a part of him as his arms or legs.
No, he thought, seeing from the corner of his eyes the soldiers lining the hall, the patches of red scale visible here and there on chins and knuckles. Red was the color of soldiers. And there was pride in that. Pride that he now walked with, his twin-plumed helm respectfully under his arm.
Whatever his thoughts on its inhabitants, the palace of Zhengjian was truly magnificent. Columns of red cedar taken from the Emerald Seas, white marble quarried from the peaks, fluttering silk grown in the Ebon Seas, jewels mined from the broken wastes in the east. One could almost imagine this the capital of an Empire, and to many, it was.
It was a terrifying place. From both sides, behind the lines of ceremonial python caste guards, eyes as cold as assassin's blades regarded him. Those swaying serpents, in white,in blue, in violet, in black, all saw his lone walk toward the dais at the end of the hall with murderous calculation. He would be lying if he said that regard did not make sweat break out on even his diamond flesh. To them, his Sun family were but crippled runts of the nest, long having lost the power that slept in Bai blood, like the many minor families which lived among the lakes and reeds and rivers.
He should have been nothing, and yet it was he who stood here, and not a single one of them. Let them think of him as an upjumped mouse swaying in a serpent's scales. He was Sun Shao, and he did not shy from the duty to his home! It was the suffering and discipline of soldiers which gave softer folk the ability to scheme and plot at all.
At last, the long, long walk came to an end, and Sun Shao knelt, placing his helm on the floor and bowing his head. His liege lord sat high on his throne. Bai Fuxi, exalted duke of the Thousand lakes sat in state, upon the Throne of Still Waters. It was a square and blocky thing, seeming carved from dull blue-black stone, high backed and without decoration or cushion, greatly at odds with these resplendent halls. Yet, it was a piece carved by mighty Yao himself in the days of myth, from the mystery that lay at the bottom of Lake Hei, where only those of unparalleled might and will could reach, below even where Grandmother Serpent slept now.
The deathly miasma of that throne stung his eyes and itched at his nose even ten meters distant, and with all the might of the fifth realm within him. Only one strong in the blood of Grandmother Serpent could ever sit upon such a thing and not die.
Around Bai Fuxi were arrayed his favored children, four daughters and one son, with only the youngest there, Bai Enlai, low enough in cultivation to match Sun Shao. The Duke watched him kneel silently, yellow eyes burning in a pale face. His robe was resplendent in white and black, with stylized embroidery of coiling serpents curling along wide billowing sleeves and from the night black hems that pooled on the polished stone of the dais on which the throne sat. A simple crown sat atop his long coifed white hair, holding it back from his face. He seemed ageless, like a painting of a deity, neither young nor old.
Sun Shao kept his shoulders straight, stilled the trembling of his calloused hands under the awful weight of the man's gaze, and bowed, touching his forehead to the soft white carpet. "My lord has called, and this devoted soldier has answered as swiftly as his humble means might allow. I am honored beyond by your notice O Great One, and honored more still to be allowed in the presence of the Great Lord."
He spoke those words from his heart, no matter how cruel they could be, the great white serpents had sheltered and protected this land for eons, since before even the earliest pages of history, his people, his family, his clan could never have existed beyond them. So what if their descendants were sometimes haughty beyond their means. No family could be fully beyond impetuousness in their youths. He told no lie when he spoke of the honor that was to kneel before the Duke of Bai, the Lord of the lakes.
"It would reflect poorly upon me if I was not aware of events of significance in my lands," Bai Fuxi's voice is soft and cool, like the whisper of silk pulled over a polished blade. "And such a battle as that you partook in at Huibei Gorge is no small event. Tell me, how did you bring victory to our people after my great grandnephew shamed himself so utterly?"
Among the observers a tall pale woman with bloodless lips and narrow eyes stiffened, and Sun Shao felt pain pricking his back. The patron of that young master he supposed. Whatever her anger though, one must always take responsibility for their actions.
"The soldiers of the Bai clan are without comparison in all the world," Sun Shao said with only a little pride. "They require organization and a courageous lord to lead them, and they may smite ten times their number in barbarians." He paused, for the first time a little unsure of himself.
"And…" said the duke.
"I was merely unsure if your grace would care for mere small unit tactics," Sun Shao said. "And the terrain of the gorge allowed me to stretch out the barbarian lines, and repeatedly bait their vanguard into poor position."
"My sacrificing men to die like beasts while you dithered and circled," said one of the Duke's children, a tall woman white hair shorn uncharacteristically short. "What of this is courage? Have you not just said that our armies are worthy to face any rabble head on?"
Sun Shao breathed out harshly, scenting the blood that laid always on his breath. "Sacrifice is courage my Lady. Each of the men in those squads knew what I was asking of them, just as well as they knew what would happen should the barbarians breach the gorge. Your men are brave, my Duke, if they are but reminded of what lies at stake when their courage falters. The Thousand Lakes are our home and we, of the marches, would spill an ocean of our own blood to defend it."
The woman looked as if she would speak again, the slim hand of Bai Fuxi rose, and like a blade cut off any sound that could have emerged. "You are not Bai, you are not capable as we are. In the face of this weakness it is virtuous to use what is available to you. I find your conduct… pleasing. Field Commander Sun. Though this victory was costly. The lands of the Vale of Thorns lie unplundered, barely even touched. It is as you say,there is no shame in sacrificing for my Thousand Lakes. There is certainly much less shame than playing games with one's duties to it, of allowing a feckless child a vital command."
The Dukes gaze was sharp, the pressure of his terror like a fell wind over the court, but Sun Shao knew it was not for him. Some of the cold gazes on his back averted themselves, cloth rustled, heads turned and lowered throughout the court. Sun Shao grit his teeth, he did not care for this, the games of lords. He was a soldier, to toil and sacrifice was his lot. He knew on some level that he was now a larger piece on the board, whatever his desires.
"So it is that I revoke the generalship of the western march, the third army, and the levy of the Vale of Thorns and Hubei Gorge," spoke the Duke, cold eyes scanning the observers and even flicking to one or two of his children. "It is clear to my eyes now I cannot entrust this duty to one who remains in Zhengjian and its environs. Nor may I ask that any of my resplendent kin to go and live among the flies and the vines and the jungle mud. Therefore…"
"Rise Sun Shao, Marquis of the northwestern march. I name you commander of its forces, governor of its lands, keeper of its people."
"I name you my Scarlet General. Let the red try where the white has failed."
