The next morning in the King’s throne room once again, Lian knelt and swore an oath of truth before announcing her verdict. The smile on Kaoru’s face was almost enough to make Lian vomit. The rest of the court, stoic as they appeared, knew this was a point past which the King would not be able to return. The lines were now cast and the path was set, all that was left was a war, inevitable and likely short. The entire court, including Ida, seemed resigned to it, and the rest of the pomp that accompanied the announcement of the upcoming wedding felt hollow in comparison to the politics at play.

Lian was simply waiting for her chance to be dismissed so she could leave this place before she was embroiled in any more entanglements. Waiting, that was, until the King once again turned his attention to her.

“Imperial!” He called for her, and she walked back into the center of the large hall.

“Your liege,” she bowed to the floor once again.

“Rise, please. It is time for your reward.”

Living had seemed reward enough considering the climate in the room, but after rejecting the very idea of a reward the customary three times, Lian acquiesced, “Whatever your liege would bestow upon a humble creature such as myself, will be accepted.”

The King clapped his hands and from the side entrances came men bearing four chests on wooden poles, each chest large enough to hold a goat. When they were placed on the ground, the men carrying them opened them, revealing mounds of gold.

“A small token from the King of Wamai.”

Lian froze. She had held a sack of ten golden Imperial coins once, on a simple courier contract to get the money from one part of the country to the other. She had owned a gold coin once, for all of a day, before being forced to break it to its constituent silver and copper for food. Wamaian gold coins were twice as large. And she had four huge chests worth.

“I… I am unworthy, your liege.”

The King laughed again, setting the court slightly at ease. “I know gold is sparse in the Empire, but here it’s our only form of currency. Trust me, Imperial, this is not very much money for serving a Wamaian king.”

Lian bowed once again, placing her face into the ground to hide the mix of giddy excitement and sheer terror at the thought of having to transport that much money back into the Empire and staying alive the whole way.

“And one more thing,” the King said. Lian again stood up, to see Ida approaching, a long object wrapped in a dark felt cloth in his hands. “Minister Ida told me you were quite fond of Wamaian weapons.”

Ida stopped in front of her and unwrapped the velvet, exposing the sword with its plain gray scabbard and handle.

“Our very best steel. Dusted with a new metal our smiths have just begun working with. Stronger than anything you have in the Empire. This sword has taken our masters six months to make. You could cut down a mountain with this sword. I trust you’ll make good use of it, Shuli Go.”

Lian looked up into Ida’s eyes and saw that he, too, had acquiesced into her decision, even though part of him desperately wanted her to turn that sword on Tokugawa that very moment. She thanked him with her eyes and was dismissed from the court.

After redressing out of the formal court clothing, she met Ida in one of the adjoining chambers. He gave her the sword then and encouraged her to try it out. It was lighter than Ida’s had been, and it was weighted perfectly with either one hand or two. Its edge was sharp and it gleamed beautifully in the mid-morning sun.

“Thank you Ida.”

“Thank you. You did a service to our kingdom.”

“I should leave though, before the Odo clan comes after me. Or the Suru for that measure.”

“You’ve bought peace for a while. Nobody should want to kill you. At least not until they rewrite the history scrolls and turn you into the psychotic Imperial who almost murdered the king and tried to disrupt the rightful marriage they were promised.”

Lian smiled. “Still, I should go. The mountains must be covered in snow by now.”

“It will be by the time you arrive, but don’t worry, you won’t be going alone.”

“…You?”

“As I told you, we have very few visitors here. I’m to see you to the border.”

Lian smiled, glad for the company, as well as the guards that would accompany her and her gold. What to do when they returned to the Empire was another problem altogether however. Even then, though, Ida could be a help.

“Ida. Would you assist me before we go?”

“Of course.”

“Take half of one of the chests. As a gift. Something to help you and the King.”

“That is quite a lot of money for you, isn’t it?”

“Too much, actually. There’s no way I make it a hundred miles into the Empire carrying that much gold. If I don’t hire mercenaries to guard it, mercenaries will take it. If I do hire mercenaries, the Empire won’t appreciate such a large force walking around protecting a Shuli Go.”

“I don’t quite understand. Would the Empire not protect you and your earnings? Could you not buy yourself a position?”

“Most people could, yes. But not a Shuli Go. I have to keep moving.”

“Of course I will help you.”

“Good then, thank you.”

They left that night, two carts with two chests each, twenty soldiers, and Lian and Ida on their horses. The path back was a longer one, meandering and winding and their pace lazy. When Lian had questions about the cities they passed or the landscape, about the people and their customs, Ida would answer and they filled their days with good conversation and food. Their nights they saved for the sword, as Ida finished instructing Lian in the Wamaian blade, granting her more and more complicated maneuvers until she gradually came to understand the intricacies of the sword. She continued to wear her Shuli Go longsword on her back, and from that ride on she wore the Wamaian sword on her left hip, in Wamaian fashion. And that was why the poets came to call her the Two Bladed Shuli Go.