Page 83 of A Song to Drown Rivers
Fanli.I reach for him, but it is useless now. I am no more solid than the breeze, passing right through him.Please. Don’t do this.
He fastens the sword to his belt and leaves for the capital.
When he arrives at the palace, he does not bother greeting the guards or waiting for an invitation to go inside. He just barges right through them, using his sword to knock back their raised halberds and shields like they’re nothing but weeds, then marches into the hall where Goujian sits on his new throne of gold.
Once, Zhengdan had said that he did not resemble a king. But he looks every bit like a proper king now, regal and removed, with his crown placed high on his head, his silk cloak shimmering around him. For one eerie moment, I almost confuse him for Fuchai.
Goujian looks up at the commotion and raises his brows. The guards have tried to follow Fanli, some still attempting to hold him back by force, others falling over themselves in apology.
“Never mind,” he instructs, waving everyone away. “Leave us. I will speak to my minister in private.”
A guard hesitates. “Are you certain, Your Majesty? He looks…”There is no need to complete the sentence. Fanli looks ready to strike the king down in one blow.
But Goujian just smiles indulgently, shakes his head. “No, no. I know him well. He will not harm me.”
As soon as the doors fall closed with an echoingthud, Fanli crosses the marble floors until he is standing at eye level with the king. I would be nervous, if I were Goujian. There is nothing between them, nothing to block a strike to the heart.
Goujian’s brows rise higher. He folds his arms slowly across his chest and regards Fanli like an uncle would his misbehaving nephew, with equal parts amusement and impatience. “You seem rather upset, Fanli. Did something happen?”
When Fanli speaks, his voice is low, barely suppressed, brutally cold. It could freeze a river over in mid-spring. “Why did you kill her?”
I notice the faintest crack of unease in Goujian’s expression. No doubt his prized minister has never spoken to anyone this way before, much less him. Still, he manages a low chuckle. “It’s just common sense, don’t you think? She has served her purpose.”
Suddenly I remember Zixu’s words, as if from a hundred miles away:When the hares have all been caught, the hunting dogs are cooked.
Fanli’s knuckles tighten over his sword. I do not know if Goujian notices. I do not think so, or else he would have surely fled in the opposite direction by now. “She gave up her own happiness for the kingdom. She has only ever cared for—” His voice threatens to break. He continues with a terrible air, a killer’s resolve. “She has only ever cared for peace. She did everything right. She is the best of every man and woman. She would not be a threat to you.”
“Ah, but like it or not, she is.” Goujian shrugs. “Apply that sharp mind of yours and think for just a moment: If her beauty is enough to topple the enemy kingdom, who’s to say she won’t turn aroundand topple mine? Better to act early, and not make the same mistake that fool Fuchai did.”
Fanli is silent, his face turned down, his expression cast in dark shadow. He is trembling all over.
“Are you sad, Fanli?” Goujian steps forward, and pats Fanli’s cheek twice. “You know, part of me had suspected that the rumors about you were exaggerated: that you couldn’treallybe devoid of desire. And your investment in her always seemed… well, beyond the extent of your duties.”
Still, Fanli says nothing.
Stop talking, I scream at Goujian, my voice lost to the air. My nails claw at him, but of course it makes no difference.Stop tormenting him.
“It’s nothing to cry over,” Goujian continues. “I agree that she is beautiful, but I’m the rightful king of both lands now. Since I can be more sure of your tastes, I can give you as many concubines as you wish, from the best brothels in the capital. Enough to fill a whole house with. Just take your pick.” He laughs, the sound loud and unrestrained, reverberating through the vast hall. “I bet you will be too well entertained to even remember her—”
Fanli strikes without warning. His hand fastens around Goujian’s arm in an eagle grip, and he twists. The sound of snapping bone rings through the deadly silence. Goujian opens his mouth to cry out, his features contorted in pain, but Fanli quickly grabs his face and clenches his jaw shut, preventing any noise from escaping.
Then he hesitates.
His eyes flicker to his sword, then to Goujian’s writhing form. He has always been stronger than the king, smarter and faster. It is purely out of loyalty that he never used it to his advantage, but rather to aid the kingdom.
Please, I pray.Don’t.
One second drags into two. The length of a heartbeat, andanother. A muscle tenses in Fanli’s jaw. At last, he loosens his grip slightly and draws his sword, but doesn’t raise it.
“I could kill you if I wanted to,” Fanli says evenly, over Goujian’s labored grunts and gasps. “But I won’t. Only because she wouldn’t be happy with me if I did.”
“You…,” Goujian croaks. He’s lying on the ground, clutching his arm; it’s been twisted at a grotesque angle, broken at least twice over, shards of bone sticking out in the wrong places. “Have you forgotten… that I’m your king? I… plucked you from obscurity. From that—that dirt-poor village of yours. I recognized your talent when nobody else did. You would be nothing—nothing…if it weren’t for me.”
“All I know,” Fanli says, his eyes like knifepoints, “is that she is worth more than you could ever dream of becoming. If killing you could bring her back, I would do it without hesitation.”
Goujian opens his mouth—perhaps to cry, perhaps to curse him. But Fanli moves forward, stepping deliberately on his injured arm. A terrible whimper, like that of a stabbed animal, escapes Goujian’s lips.
“Oh, and in case it wasn’t clear,” Fanli says on his way out, his robes smeared with royal blood, his eyes set on the doors, “you’ll need to find yourself a new minister. I resign.”
