Beneath an Opal Moon Read Online Free PDF

high-backed chair of carved ebony. He was a tall, lean man with wide, powerful shoulders, thick graying hair and close-cropped beard. His face was the color of lightly cured leather, seamed beyond his years. It was dominated by a curving hawklike nose and dark eyes which could easily have been brooding but weren’t. They were, instead, constantly full of light and life.
    Just the opposite of his dead brother, Moichi thought, who had been doom-filled, tortured by his own inner nature. Looking into those eyes of Aerent’s, one saw the rikkagin, the superb military leader, yes, but one saw much more. There was absolutely no opacity there; they were clear and so deep that they seemed to go on forever. And at the core, what did one see? More than a warrior; more than a commander of men. A man. It was Aerent’s deep and abiding humanity which, in the end, made him so extraordinary, Moichi thought. And Tuolin, his brother? His only family. Moichi shrugged inwardly. War. It was such utter madness. Was it luck that had allowed him and Aerent to survive while Tuolin was slain? Or was there some great force, unknowable to man, which guided the ultimate outcome of events. He shrugged again.
    â€œIt was like a return to the old days, Aerent,” Moichi said. “The hate is there still, even though none of them could say why or how it all began.”
    Aerent nodded. “Yes. Now it has begun again and it is as if the truce never happened. They have short memories for some things, the Ching Pang and the Hung Pang.”
    â€œBut how did it happen? Some skirmish between parties of the two?”
    The Regent smiled ruefully. “If only it were that simple, there might be some hope at least. But as it is—” He shrugged. “What has happened,” he said deliberately, putting his hands flat on the table, “is that Du-Sing’s youngest son was found murdered late last night.”
    â€œSon of the tai-pan of the Greens!” Moichi whistled low in his throat.
    â€œAnd that is not all.” Aerent’s heavily muscled arms straightened as he put weight on them, into his hands, levering himself up. He stood weaving slightly for a moment until he was quite sure of his balance. Then he walked, stiff-legged, somewhat awkwardly for the first several steps, out from behind the barrier of the table, crossing the room.
    Moichi would not be abysmally rude as to turn his gaze aside, yet perhaps the sight of his friend walking compelled him to say: “I am truly sorry, Aerent. About that young man—”
    The Regent lifted a hand.
    â€œYou did more than could be expected, Moichi. He was a good lad.” He turned and smiled. “I thank the gods you are all right. I still think I should call a physician to take a look at that shoulder—”
    Now it was the navigator’s turn to raise his hand.
    â€œAt least use some of this ice,” the Regent said, pushing a bowl across the table. Moichi acquiesced. The cold would stop the swelling and it damped the ache, at least for the time being.
    Moichi watched his friend as he made his careful way across the room to the window. He looks more like an enormous insect, Moichi thought. A praying mantis perhaps, locked within the peculiarly articulated mode of locomotion devised for him. At length, the Regent made the window and sat down on the wide sill, his long legs stretched out before him. He put a long hand out, feeling their gem hardness, saying: “It’s gotten so I hate to hide them now.”
    â€œI imagine it is not something one can easily get used to.”
    â€œIndeed, no.” Aerent smiled thinly and thought, Still, luckier than some. Thank the gods I, at least, was spared the grief of soul which plagued Tuolin. Strange that only at the point of death should he find love. He was a warrior to the last. And, at the end, a true hero. Thus shall he be remembered. It is only just.
    He sat straight as a ramrod, looking