The Stone Road Read Online Free PDF Page A

true concern. Like civil servants the empire over, diplomats had had martial training and would be a match for most of the soldiers. Physical prowess was not their most dangerous weapons, that honour went to their brains and observant eyes. Those weapons though, could be turned against them with the right strategy.
    Huang climbed down the steps from the walls to the streets below and took off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction to the Wubei troop. They would take a longer, slower route to their destination and that would give him enough time to get there ahead of them. He wanted to observe their entrance into the city to determine who was in charge and get an impression of their demeanour. The Yaart soldiers had not insisted the inhabitant of the wagon come out and avoided the diplomatic trap laid out for them. The file on Hsin the Commander had directed him to read contained a lot of detail, but seeing the man’s face would have told him more.
    As he dodged through the late-afternoon crowds, Haung considered his options. He had several roles in mind, and the costumes to go along with them. One way in was to play the part of a servant but he dismissed it in short order. Servants in their own country would be ignored. Folk would talk around them as if they did not exist, but in a foreign country, a country you were at war with, servants would be, as matter of routine, assumed to be spies or informers. No, he needed a role that the soldiers were comfortable with and could ignore whilst they talked. Hostler, blacksmith, beggar, waiter, tradesman, he had considered and dismissed them all.
    ‘I know just the part to play,’ he thought.
    Haung avoided the main door of the tavern and slipped, instead, in through the servants’ door. Hanging on the pegs, next to the door, was the costume he wanted. He changed from quality silks into a shabby cloth tunic, held in at the waist with a soft rope belt, and rough trousers. The silks he placed in the sacks along with his shoes. He pulled on the weather beaten, cracked and patched leather boots wincing as he crammed his toes into the too small. The last touch, pour a little cheap ale over his hands and run these through his dark hair. No longer the short crop of a trainee but now grown out thick and straight. The beer wash made it appear greasy and unkempt with the added bonus of creating the perfume he needed for the role. Slapping ale wetted hands over his new clothes added another layer to the illusion. He would need a good wash before he carried out part two of tonight’s tasks.
    Rolling and staggering into the bar, he spied an empty table with a good view of the taproom and slumped into one of the wooden chairs. The waiter brought over a cup of cheap wine which Haung sipped and swished around his mouth before swallowing. He slopped half of the remaining wine on the floor next to him. He let his eyes relax and lose focus, settling into his role and the chair for the evening.
    Before too long, the soldiers from Wubei came in via the back door and ordered drinks. They were staying in the inn’s outer building. The diplomats and the Captain would have much richer rooms upstairs. The soldiers took their drinks to a table on the opposite side of the room. There was no chance of Haung hearing their discussions from his seat, but moving closer might make them suspicious.
    After a slow glance around the room to make sure he was not being observed, Haung dipped a finger into the wine and traced a small symbol on the wooden table. The writing flared briefly as he whispered a small chant and a tiny wisp of steam rose from the surface. Now he could hear every word that the soldiers were saying. Much of it was usual barrack room talk; what they would do with a girl if they saw one, how much they could drink, how much they missed their wife or did not miss them. He took another sip of wine and waited, biding his time.
    “That Hsin, he’s a miserable git,” Haung heard one of the soldiers