The Evil Woman - 2
One punish, a hundred warned.
Moyong Sang-ah had demonstrated her rightful authority and the martial force capable of enforcing it, setting a clear example for all to see.
The Moyong Clan belonged to the righteous faction; they would not shed blood lightly. The sole foundation of their resistance had vanished with that single incident.
Every business of the Kang family that had resisted Moyong Sang-ah until now ceased its opposition and raised the white flag of surrender. Thanks to that one demonstration, the acquisition of the remaining Kang enterprises finished swiftly, without another drop of blood spilled.
“Steward! Pay special attention to the budget that goes to little Sang-ah.”
“Yes, Young Clan Leader. I shall take particular care to let her wither away by degrees.”
The problem Moyong Sang-ah had faced had ultimately been one of financial power. Young Clan Leader Moyong Bi held the real authority of the clan and had installed a man of the Demonic Cult as steward. Every stream of money inside the Moyong Clan flowed toward Moyong Bi; Moyong Sang-ah received only a token, formal budget—an allowance that screamed for her to dry up and die rather than maintain any force of her own. Now the situation had changed.
“I will expand my forces with the funds drawn from the businesses.”
Moyong Sang-ah began looking after those who had never abandoned her in her hardest hours. She granted them new posts, raised their pay, fed them spiritual elixirs, and even saw to the families her subordinates were expected to support.
“We will devote our loyalty to the end!”
When treatment improved, the loyalty that already existed only deepened—naturally enough.
“Two suns are rising over the Moyong Clan. I will make certain every soul knows it.”
The existing facilities had been adequate for the Spear-Staff Unit, yet they proved far too meager for those who would serve a second sun. Moyong Sang-ah enlarged her own residence until it matched the Young Clan Leader’s quarters, and she expanded the barracks and halls that housed the Spear-Staff Unit and her growing faction as well.
“Damned bitch. Money is simply rotting on you.”
Moyong Bi came and spat the words at her; she offered no reply. The expansion works swallowed staggering sums, yet in the end they strengthened the Moyong Clan itself. People whispered behind her back that Moyong Sang-ah was finally stepping into open confrontation with Moyong Bi, but none dared openly hinder the work.
“Miss. Expansion of the Spear-Staff Unit’s ranks is complete.”
“You have done well.”
Buildings were not the only things upon which she spent. She scattered gold without stint, inviting countless murim warriors as retainers; some she absorbed directly into the Spear-Staff Unit. Among them were the very experts she had once secretly petitioned for aid.
The only reason one cannot buy a thing is that one has not yet paid enough gold.
Even those masters who had refused every earnest plea made in the name of murim righteousness or the banner of chivalry now arrived beneath her banner, eyes glittering with greed at the sight of gold. Moyong Sang-ah chewed on that truth and smiled a bitter smile.
Husband. It is by your help that I have come this far.
She summoned the face of her husband, the one she had carved into her own heart. At last she could take the first true step along the road that would lead her to beg his forgiveness. The counterstroke against the detestable running dogs of the Demonic Cult was ready to begin. So she believed.
“Miss. I have something I must report.”
Even before he spoke, the captain of the Spear-Staff Unit wore an expression that promised nothing but misery.
“What is it?”
“Barbarians in the northeast have risen in rebellion. For their suppression the Imperial Court has demanded support from the Moyong Clan.”
“And?”
“The Council of Elders has decided to draft the greater part of the force from the Spear-Staff Unit.”
“What did you say?”
It is often said that murim and the imperial court do not interfere with one another. That means only that the officials will overlook a little coughing in the places the sects and clans already occupy; it has never meant that one may defy the Emperor’s word. No murim clan, however proud, could refuse a demand from the throne. And given the court’s habit of treating murim warriors as expendable, those drafted were unlikely to return intact.
After much deliberation the Council of Elders of the Moyong Clan reached its conclusion. If the force was unlikely to come back whole, then send a force that need not come back whole—and make it elite enough that no one could find fault with the choice.
“I have come because they mean to draft the Spear-Staff Unit.”
Moyong Sang-ah, hearing the news, hurried at once to the Council of Elders together with her unit captain.
“The Council has already decided. It cannot be undone.”
“Not the Council’s decision, I think, but my brother’s.”
Any major matter decided by the Young Clan Leader required the elders’ formal assent. Of late, however, the Council and the Young Clan Leader spoke with one voice.
“How insolent!”
“What manners are these before the elders of the house!”
“Do you imagine we looked the other way while you swelled your Spear-Staff Unit for no reason?”
“Was that looking the other way? I had thought it was because I filled every one of your storehouses with the wealth that came from my own purse.”
Moyong Sang-ah lifted one corner of her mouth and mocked them to their faces. At her shameless declaration the elders started and traded glances, each silently asking the others whether they too had taken her gold.
Disgusting, incompetent vipers.
She fixed them with a gaze so cold that the elders who had taken her money flinched. It was hard to believe that her own father had once led creatures like these and laid the foundations for the clan’s revival.
“Ahem. Be that as it may, a decision is a decision. It will not be changed.”
“I did not come to change it.”
Even she knew that no words of hers could refuse a demand from the Imperial Court.
“Then what?”
Moyong Sang-ah regarded the waiting Council. Greedy, incompetent old men who could not even see that their house was rotting. She wanted to tear them apart here and now—but that would only destroy her before she ever struck the Demonic Cult. To stand against Moyong Bi she must first throw meat to these loathsome, greedy serpents and make them hers.
I must do it as my husband did.
Her husband had walked into the tiger’s jaws for her sake, staking his very life. He had possessed no martial skill, no power at all, yet he had deceived Moyong Bi—that detestable dog of the Demonic Cult—and taken what he wanted. She still could not fathom the heart with which he had come here. She, by contrast, held the overwhelming strength he had left behind; she could wring what she needed from these creatures.
After a brief silence she spoke.
“Return to me the right to take part in decisions of clan affairs.”
What she sought was the seat at the council table that should have been hers when the Clan Leader was absent.
“Hah. So you mean to reclaim the Young Clan Leader’s place.”
“I do not ask for that seat. I ask only that you return what the Council took without my father’s leave.”
“Hah. To give it back we would have to consult the Young Clan Leader first.”
Why should we put ourselves to that trouble? She read the thought plain on their faces. Now was the moment to wield the power her husband had left her.
“This month I will fill every elder’s storehouse twice over.”
“It might be worth discussing with the Young Clan Leader…”
“Ahem. To set ourselves against the Young Clan Leader is a little…”
Her bombshell set the elders murmuring among themselves.
“Greed only grows with age, it seems.”
She rebuked the avaricious old men of her house with quiet contempt.
“What did you just say!”
“Insolence!”
“Four times.”
“What?”
“I will see that you receive enough to make you sick of eating. Or if even that displeases you, I shall take it that from tomorrow you wish to manage your weight.”
Four times the gold, or none at all. Greedy they might be, yet the elders were not so dull as to miss her meaning. At the mention of fourfold bribes, not one of them dared rebuke her arrogance again. She was no longer the pitiable girl who once pleaded with them; she had become the keeper who fed them.
In the end the Council accepted her proposal—and more besides.
“Miss. You have worked hard.”
In Moyong Sang-ah’s study the captain of the Spear-Staff Unit looked at her with an expression of deep emotion.
“Form the expeditionary force from the deputy captain and the elites.”
“Would it not be better to send the new men who came from outside?”
The captain had thought that if men must be spent, better to spend those who had joined for gold; her words puzzled him.
“We march with the Fifth Squad of the Dragon Spear Unit. I need men whose loyalty is certain.”
“The Fifth Squad of the Dragon Spear Unit is the company the Young Clan Leader secretly filled with Demonic Cultists, is it not? May I know why you asked the Council, as an additional condition, to draft them as well?”
On paper the Fifth Squad was a new unit the Young Clan Leader had raised with fresh faces; in truth most were cultists. None among them had mastered demonic arts so blatantly as to draw notice while infiltrating the Moyong Clan, yet they remained a force that could become Moyong Bi’s great strength in a crisis. Because the clan formally regarded them as expendable, the elders—ignorant of their true identity—had agreed to their drafting.
“Once you are on campaign, drive every last one of them into a death trap at a suitable moment.”
A battlefield would offer many chances. Ignore their cries for help when barbarians surround them; ambush the wounded Dragon Spear men on the road home. If Moyong Bi meant to thin her strength, she would erase the hidden force he had prepared instead.
“Miss. I agree that the Fifth Squad must be dealt with. Yet if the entire Dragon Spear Unit is wiped out, people will point fingers at you.”
Of two units that set out together, the weaker is annihilated—and the two units are already enemies. Whispers of conspiracy would rise.
“Pointing fingers. I fear no such thing.”
Whatever people said mattered nothing so long as one goal was achieved. She brushed the concern aside as trivial.
“Miss. If you mean to reclaim the clan, reputation is vital. Gold you now possess in abundance. You can afford to build your power slowly. Think of the future.”
Blood need not be spilled; the hour would come in its own time.
“Reputation. Righteous cause. The future. Did any of those things ever reclaim this house for me? I seized the foundation for rising again through conspiracy, treachery, and murder.”
With the man she loved. With the house of the man she loved. A pang of guilt stabbed her breast; without thinking she touched the ring on the finger of her left hand.
“Miss…”
Why do you act as though reclaiming the clan will end everything? The captain swallowed the words that rose to his throat.
“I will trust only you, Captain.”
“Then I shall withdraw and draft the roster.”
In the end the captain could only answer with faith in his mistress. Moyong Sang-ah watched him leave until he was out of sight. She still needed people who would speak hard truths—not so that she might walk the straight path, but so that she might glance at the straight path once, then choose a better road even if the world condemned her for it.
After half the Spear-Staff Unit had marched out with the Fifth Squad of the Dragon Spear Unit, the captain returned to Moyong Sang-ah.
“Miss. I have news to report.”
“What is it?”
“…”
Should he truly speak these words? The captain looked at Moyong Sang-ah, who was no longer merely a warrior but was steadily taking on the bearing of one fit to lead the clan, and for a moment he hesitated.
“I have much to do. If you mean to speak, speak quickly.”
“It is… news has arrived concerning Young Master Kang Yunho.”