“It makes no difference to me which band of nomads is in power,” Tao said.
“If you do not value the lives of your fellow Huaxia, it comes down to whether you value your own life and that of your dragon. If you don’t seek a vision, I will see to it that you are both tortured.”
Kai looked at Tao. “You may as well try.” Tao heard the dragon’s voice in his head. “If no vision comes, make one up. We have nothing to lose but our lives.”
“I need to know as much about the situation as possible before I seek a vision,” Tao said. “Tell me about Jilong’s mother.”
Fo Tu Deng didn’t argue. He sat down on an embroidered cushion.
“Lady Wang is not his natural mother. She is his uncle Shi Le’s mother. When Shi Le took Jilong in when he was a boy, she adopted him as her son. He became devoted to her, as you see.”
“How is Shi Le?” Tao ventured.
“He lives, but the wound that wretched girl inflicted has left him unable to walk. Or so he says. Anyway, he rules from his bed, which he never leaves. Jilong still answers to him, but he would like to be the one they call Chanyu.”
Tao shuddered at the thought of Jilong’s ruthless uncle who had killed Pema’s family. She had tried to seek revenge and kill the Zhao leader herself, but had failed. She was wandering around the countryside somewhere. If Jilong’s men found her, they would recognise her and take her to Jilong.
Kai’s voice echoed in Tao’s head again. “You must invent a vision. Something that will enable us to escape.”
Tao’s head was spinning as he tried to come up with a plan. What could he make up to convince Fo Tu Deng that he’d had a true vision? He needed something that would be an advantage to the monk, but at the same time help them escape.
Fo Tu Deng put a cushion on the floor for Tao to sit on. The monk was impatient for him to start. Tao removed the oil from his bag.
“I must calm my mind,” Tao said.
“Do you want some incense?” the monk asked. “Should I recite a sutra?”
Kai made his jingling-bell sound, amused by the monk’s eagerness to help.
“Ah, good,” Fo Tu Deng said. “The dragon is providing bell ringing. That always helps to create a holy atmosphere.”
Tao smiled to himself. That brief moment of lightheartedness calmed him. Sunila had come down from the wall to watch, as if he thought this was an important moment. He helped add to the sense of occasion.
It gave Tao an unfamiliar, malicious pleasure to see the monk squirming with impatience. He slowly rubbed the oil into his hands and stared at them. He was thinking about a way to escape the clutches of the Zhao, not a vision he was certain would not appear. He examined his palms, mirror images of each other, except for a scar on one and a splinter in the other. The sun was making him drowsy.
He was stifling a yawn when a small moth landed on his palm. The intricacy and beauty of each individual insect always fascinated Tao. This one had four brown wings with orange markings. Such a small creature, so vulnerable, and yet each leg, each feeler, was perfectly made. It brought tears to his eyes. The moth flew off. His palms blurred. He wasn’t expecting a vision, so he hadn’t thought about letting his eyes go out of focus. He was astonished when an image appeared on his palms.
He saw a booted foot in a leather stirrup. It was a distinctive boot – red, with a scorpion tail attached to the toe. The colours were muted, as if seen at night. But Tao knew that boot. He’d seen it just a few minutes ago. It belonged to Jilong. There was something else – the owner of the boot was astride a creature and it wasn’t a horse. His boot dug into the animal’s flank, which was covered in silver scales.
Tao gasped. The vision disappeared. He didn’t want to tell the monk what he had seen – Jilong riding a dragon. He didn’t want to tell Kai either. For once, Tao knew the meaning of the vision immediately.
“Well?” the monk said. “What did you see?”
Kai was staring at Tao. He knew he’d seen a real vision.
The monk leaned forwards, eager to hear what Tao had to say. “Tell me!”
Tao was in no hurry to tell the evil monk what he had seen. “Jilong is a vain man. He is not used to failure. The loss of Jiyuan and his inability to find the Black Camel Bandits has wounded his pride.”
“You are right. He would never admit it, but I suspect his recent defeats have diminished his confidence.”
Tao tried to keep his thoughts from the dragon, but he couldn’t. Now Kai knew what he had seen in his vision.
“Do not tell him!”
Tao ignored Kai. “You must provide Jilong with a dragon,” he told Fo Tu Deng. “It will give him back his confidence. His men will see him as a strong leader, and it will intimidate the Black Camel Bandits.”
Kai made a deep rumbling sound, like someone beating a copper drum.
Fo Tu Deng’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that? Remember how keen he was to ride that yellow beast? Except that one was deranged. It threw him off.” The monk glared at Kai. “Can you assure me that this one will not do the same?”
Tao glanced at the angry dragon. “He doesn’t like the idea, but I will convince him this is the only way.”
Fo Tu Deng sagged with relief. “Jilong needs something to make him feel like he’s in control. A dragon will be an advantage in battle – as long as it is at the Langhai’s command.”
“He will be.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
THE HOARD
“I will not submit to Jilong!”
“You won’t be submitting, you’ll be pretending to submit.”
“It will seem the same. Now I am free of the iron sickness, we can escape.”
“I can’t ignore this vision. This is not a trick to impress the monk, not a street performance. This is the result of my second sight, which has come from my connection to you. It will benefit you. It has to.”
“How could it possibly help me?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Steam issued from Kai’s nostrils, like a boiling kettle.
Fo Tu Deng waited for Jilong to wake. When he emerged after a few hours sleep, the monk bowed down to him.
“I have had a vision, Langhai.”
Jilong glared at Tao. “Didn’t I order that he and his dragon should be killed?”
“You did, Langhai,” Fo Tu Deng said. “And I was about to attend to it when I was struck by a vision!”
He sent Tao to make tea. Jilong sat in the peony pavilion and listened as the monk recounted Tao’s vision. The warlord didn’t like the plan any more than Kai.
“With a name like yours, it is your destiny to ride a dragon!” Fo Tu Deng was saying.
The name Jilong meant “young dragon”.
“It is an omen, Langhai,” the monk persisted. “And luckily, I didn’t have the boy killed as he is the only one who can communicate with the dragon.”
Tao brought out the tea on a tray. He had made it in the apple blossom teapot which, thanks to the ghost girl, was lacking a lid and most of the spout. He poured the tea, but not much ended up in the cups. The warlord’s brow was creased. Tao thought he was probably remembering how Sha had thrown him off, leaving him lying in the dirt in front of all of his men.
Fo Tu Deng also guessed the warlord’s thoughts. “It will not be like the last time, Langhai. The yellow dragon was a wild beast, crazed, but this one is more civilised.”
“And the boy can communicate with this dragon?”
“Yes, Langhai.”
Jilong picked up his tea, sipped it and burned his tongue. He glared at Tao.
“I did like riding a creature that could fly, surveying the battle as if it were drawn on a strip of hide. But I do not want to be subjected to any indignity like last time.”
“That will not happen, General,” Tao said. “Kai can’t fly. He has no wings.”
Jilong turned to him. “No wings? What good is a dragon without wings?”
“He has sturdy legs. He can run fast for m
any hours without tiring. And you have seen his fighting skills.”
Sunila chose that moment to flutter down from his nest up on the wall. He landed with a lot of flapping.
“Are you collecting dragons?” Jilong asked Fo Tu Deng.
The monk smiled modestly. “It is my holiness that attracts them.”
Kai was making a rumbling sound. Tao was worried he might be about to attack Fo Tu Deng, but Jilong had lost interest in Kai.
“What about this dragon?” Jilong was studying Sunila. “It has wings.”
“He’s too small,” Tao said. “And I can’t communicate as well with him. He–”
Fo Tu Deng cut him off. “Do not speak unless you are addressed! I am the one who has had the holy vision.”
Jilong turned to the monk. “What exactly did you see?”
Fo Tu Deng blinked. “I saw …”
Tao was tempted to let the monk find a way to wriggle out of the predicament, but then he remembered that somehow the vision was to Kai’s benefit. If he wished to call himself a dragonkeeper, he had to heed the advice of his second sight.
Fo Tu Deng was staring into the distance as if trying to recall the details of his vision. Tao could remember clearly what he had seen on his palms.
“It was wrong of me to question you, reverend brother,” he said. “Now that I think of it, you did say that the dragon’s hide was silver in the moonlight. The dragon in your vision could have been blue.”
Fo Tu Deng looked relieved. “Exactly! And this creature is a naga, a dragon from Tianzhu. I have studied them in their natural habitat, Langhai. They are excellent fliers and what they lack in endurance they make up for in agility.”
Sunila flapped his wings again. They didn’t look strong enough to support his own weight, let alone a rider as well.
“You will need a bridle, Langhai,” Fo Tu Deng said, “and a saddle.”
Jilong scowled. “That was not sufficient when I rode the yellow beast.”
“If I could have permission to speak, General,” Tao said.
Jilong gave a curt nod.
“As well as fitting a bridle and a saddle to the naga, you could perhaps use a harness that would keep you securely seated, should he … swerve unexpectedly.”
Jilong agreed to a test flight. “I’ll wait until this evening.”
He didn’t want his men to witness it in case anything undignified happened.
“But that will be after dark, Langhai.” The monk glanced at the naga.
“If it can’t fly at night, it will be useless,” Jilong snapped. “All our clashes with the bandits will be at night.”
“Of course. But it might be wise to have your first flight in daylight, Langhai.”
Tao fetched a bridle, a cart harness and a saddle blanket from the stable. “I’m sure we can fashion something from this.”
The monk spoke to Sunila in Sanskrit, explaining what they wanted him to do, telling him how honoured he was, while Tao put the saddle blanket on the naga and secured it with straps. Sunila was smaller than a horse, so the bridle needed adjustment around his snout before it fitted. Tao used part of the cart harness to cross over the rider’s shoulders, fastening them to the straps that held the saddle blanket in place. Sunila was ready for a test flight. Tao held out the reins to Jilong.
The warlord hesitated. “If the beast does not behave, I will personally slay him.”
“He’ll be very good, General,” Tao said, hoping that was the case.
Jilong carefully mounted the naga, whose legs were so short that the warlord’s feet almost touched the ground. Sunila took a few steps backwards, like a skittish horse. Tao whispered reassuring words in Sanskrit and Jilong tightened his grip on the reins as Fo Tu Deng passed the harness straps over his shoulders, crossing them at the back and buckling them securely. Tao fitted a pair of stirrups.
“Tell the beast I am ready to fly,” Jilong said.
Fo Tu Deng said something in Sanskrit.
The blue dragon didn’t move. The monk flicked his rump with a strap.
“Just one circuit around the walls, Sunila,” Tao said.
The naga’s wings didn’t stir.
“He needs some encouragement. Kai, do you have any sweetie berries?”
The dragon shook his head.
Jilong had his own ideas about encouragement. He dug the heels of his red boots into Sunila’s sides. The naga sat down.
Fo Tu Deng taught the Zhao general a few commands in Sanskrit and Jilong repeated them. His pronunciation was poor, but Sunila responded by unfurling his wings. They were so delicate, Tao was sure he could see through them. Sunila flapped them, but his paws remained firmly on the ground.
“I don’t think his wings are strong enough to fly with a rider,” Tao said.
As if to contradict him, the naga flapped his wings. It was hard for him to get off the ground, particularly with a human on his back. Unlike a bird, he didn’t launch himself forwards and gradually gain altitude. He angled his wings so that he could flap them sideways, and took off vertically with his tail hanging down. Jilong would have slipped off if they hadn’t put the straps across his shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Langhai,” Fo Tu Deng called out, over the noise of flapping wings, though he sounded worried himself. “That’s the way nagas always take flight, because they live in dense forest.”
“I hope he will drop Jilong from a great height,” Kai said.
When Sunila had risen to about the height of the wall, he lifted his tail, changed the angle of his wings and started to fly horizontally. Then his flight was graceful and seemed to take less effort. He took advantage of wind currents and glided like a hawk. Tao watched anxiously as the naga made a circuit of the compound – once, twice, three times. Jilong gave the command to land, but Sunila took no notice. The sun was low in the sky and moths were gathering. He suddenly went into a dive. Jilong gripped the reins. Tao was convinced the naga was about to crash-land, but he pulled out at the last moment with a snap of his jaws. He had a particularly large moth between his teeth. Then he changed the angle of his wings, flapped them from side to side, hovering in the air before descending vertically and landing with a thump.
“The beast is in need of some training, Langhai,” Fo Tu Deng said. “But I think that went well for a first flight.”
Tao nodded his agreement. “Very well indeed.”
“It is like a horse,” Jilong said. “It needs breaking in.”
The only creatures in the world that Jilong had patience with were horses. Tao had never seen him abuse a horse, and he seemed to have respect for them and treated them well. Tao wanted to make sure that he had the same attitude to the naga.
“If I might suggest something, General,” Tao said, “I have observed that Sunila is fond of shiny things. These creatures collect them like certain birds do. I think if you offer him small gifts that are appealing to him, he will respond to you. Also his preferred food is tree frogs. If you provide him with rewards, I am sure he will obey you.”
Jilong nodded thoughtfully. “We will resume the training tomorrow. Now I must join my men.”
“You’re going out?” Fo Tu Deng said. “But you’ve had so little sleep. You must rest, Langhai.”
“I will rest when we have defeated the Black Camel Bandits,” he said.
Jilong called for his stableboy. It was the lad who had fallen asleep on his horse. He who had been forgiven for his lapse. “Take this beast away and bring me my horse.”
Sunila made an unhappy creaking sound as the boy gingerly led him away.
Tao was hoping to get a few moments to speak to Kai alone, but the Zhao were waking up. And Lady Wang, who had spent the entire day in her new chamber, waddled over to the peony pavilion, hoisted herself onto the couch and demanded food. Tao couldn’t make an evening meal for himself and the dragons because Jilong’s cook had taken over the kitchen to prepare another feast for her.
While the men were eating, Tao went to the stables. The twelve s
talls were occupied – eleven with horses, the twelfth with the naga. The stableboy had given them all a bucket of grain. Sunila was looking unhappily at his. The boy was grooming the horses, keeping a nervous eye on the naga.
Kai had followed Tao into the stables. “This is not right. We should be fleeing from the nomads, not helping them with their cause.”
“Be patient, Kai. We cannot question my visions. They have never led us astray before.” Tao had niggling doubts himself, but he hoped Kai wouldn’t hear them in his thoughts.
The stableboy had finished grooming the horses. He stood with the brush in his hand, staring at the naga.
“Should I brush him?”
Kai had calmed down, but he was still unhappy. “He would appreciate a little juniper oil rubbed on his wings.” Tao heard the dragon’s voice in his mind.
“Do you have any juniper oil?” Tao asked the boy.
He shook his head, trying to keep an eye on both dragons at once.
“His wings are new and delicate,” Kai said. “They will need some sort of balm if he is to avoid them getting too dry and cracking.”
Tao thought for a moment. “There is some sesame oil in the kitchen. Will that do?”
The stableboy looked confused, as he only heard Tao’s side of the conversation.
Kai nodded.
Tao fetched the sesame oil and rubbed it into the naga’s wings. Sunila flapped them happily.
“And he likes his grain cooked,” Tao told the stableboy. “He is also fond of tree frogs and woodworm larvae, but he might settle for a bowl of whatever you’re having tonight.”
Tao had weaned the naga off honey, and he was much less fussy about what he ate.
After the Zhao had marched off, Tao made a pot of lentil soup and shared it with Kai.
“I will stay with you tonight,” Kai said to Tao. “In case the ghost girl tries to attack you again.”
Shadow Sister Page 18
