“That’s the best you could come up with?

This water,

no doubt with an added infusion

of horse-piss,

is better than gold!”

“Better than a wrestling match,”

said a muscular horse warrior.

“Better than a woman,” Leong sighed.

“Better than a man?”

asked the muscular horse warrior.

He submerged completely, stood,

water dripping from his braided hair,

eyeing Tai Seng, one of Xau’s guards.

Tai Seng led him out of the water.

BESIEGED

The sun’s first rays

glinted on the golden spires

of the Imperial Palace

where Tahj, Emperor Absolute,

stood on the highest balcony,

peering down upon his doom.

Beyond the city walls

burned the campfires

of Tahj’s lesser enemies.

Donal. Memnor. Subetei.

Xau, chief of his foes, absent,

racing through the desert

to attack Tahj’s ally,

but this siege Xau’s doing:

Xau the Horse King,

Xau the Demon Slayer,

Xau the Undefeated.

Xau the Overrated, Xau the Doomed,

whispered the voice in his head,

Tahj’s ally, the desert beast.

Doomed? Do you think to stop him

with a mere sixty men?

Tahj gulped,

tried to retract that thought,

to bury his bitterness

over the beast’s failure—

its reinforcements in retreat,

the horses turned renegade

at Xau’s behest.

Don’t bother dissembling, the beast sneered.

I don’t need devotion, only obedience.

As for Xau, I will stop him

with four small, helpless children.

The beast’s laughter assaulted Tahj,

an avalanche of amusement.

Assured. Inhuman. Malevolent.

A laugh that shriveled Tahj’s balls

as he looked down upon

his encircling enemies.

Too late to flee.

Too late to worry

that his ally was worse

than his enemy.

GAME

On their eleventh day in the desert,

near the beast’s lair,

by a tiny spring-fed waterfall,

four children with daggers.

Li, captain of King Xau’s guards,

held the king back by his arm,

certain it was a trap,

racing to work it out.

Four naked children,

three girls, one boy,

daggers held not to attack,

but point-first to their bellies.

Xau’s guards grouped around him.

Behind them, the horse warriors,

half the men with their bows drawn.

The horses ranged behind the men.

“Greetings, King Xau,”

said the tallest girl,

maybe ten years old.

“Let’s play a game together.”

The girl laughed,

a hollow, malevolent sound:

the beast’s laugh, not a child’s.

“The children will come to you.

“One at a time. And you can try

to wrest them from my control.

If you don’t play, the other children

will disembowel themselves. Ready?”

The girl set her dagger down,

walked slowly forward.

The king loosed his arm from Li.

“Xau,” said Li. “They are hostages.”

Xau was meant to walk away

in hostage situations.

He didn’t. He looked at Li.

“We cannot leave them to die.”

Li’s options stark. To defy the king.

Or follow him into the beast’s trap.

An instant’s indecision

before Li dipped his head to Xau.

Xau reached for the girl’s forehead,

Li holding her in place

so that the beast could not

use her to assault the king.

The girl jerked in Li’s grip—