You are the dragonkeeper, the voice was saying. Not for one dragon, but for all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
TRUST
“Where have you been?” Fo Tu Deng shouted when Tao wandered back into the courtyard.
The monk had only just returned from his own outing in the countryside with Lady Wang.
“I have been meditating,” Tao said.
“The naga is Jilong’s now. You shouldn’t take him out without permission.”
Tao was about to escape to Wei’s room, but he remembered that Lady Wang had taken it over.
“I have chained up your dragon!” Fo Tu Deng’s eyes were blazing with fear and anger. “If you don’t seek a vision immediately, I will fetch extra chains so that he will suffer even more.”
Fo Tu Deng sent for the stableboy and ordered him to chain up the naga as well. Tao tried to appear anguished. He could hear Kai groaning plaintively from the stables, but it wasn’t the sound he made if he was really in pain. Kai and Sunila both had a supply of cinnabar. They were immune to the effects of iron.
“You must seek a vision and tell me how we can find these Black Camel Bandits. Jilong will be awake at any moment.”
Nothing the monk said could disturb the calm that Tao’s communion with Wei had left within him. There was something else too. He felt powerful. Tao couldn’t help smiling.
This infuriated the monk. “How dare you! I will order the chains on the dragons to be doubled!”
Fo Tu Deng turned and found himself face to face with Jilong, who had stepped out from behind the peony pavilion. The monk’s body crumpled. Jilong towered over him, hands on hips. He was a slender young man, but he seemed twice the size of the monk.
“I knew you were a fake. You will regret deceiving me.”
The warlord signalled to the captain of his personal guard. “Shackle the monk in the goat pen.”
The guard hauled the monk away. He whimpered, but didn’t bother to protest.
Jilong walked over to Tao. He had the swaggering gait of a man used to absolute power, a bully who knows he always has at least ten men at his back.
“So, boy,” he said. “You are the one who has the visions.”
Tao wasn’t smiling any more. “Yes, General. But it is not something I have control of. Visions come or don’t come, and often I can’t interpret their meaning.”
“But a vision told you that the Black Camel Bandits hide in darkness during the day and don’t come out until after nightfall?”
“Yes, General.”
He didn’t mention that his visions only served dragons.
“When you have sought a vision for me, I will unshackle your dragon.”
Tao had made so many mistakes since leaving Yinmi. He had wandered around, thinking he could fill his days with boyish adventure with Kai at his side. He had believed that it was his duty as a Buddhist to help everyone in need that he came upon – Pema, the old man, Baoyu. He had wandered like river water flowing around rocks, following the course that required the least effort. The purpose of his life was clear to him at last. He didn’t need a ceremonial mirror to prove it. He was a dragonkeeper. It was his family heritage, taken up for the first time in two hundred years. He felt privileged to be the chosen companion of a dragon, but it had brought responsibilities that he would never have dreamed of when he was a novice.
He couldn’t concern himself with Pema or Baoyu. His duty was to protect the dragons. He should have left the compound earlier, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t have been right. Everything that had happened was part of his journey to this new knowledge. And yet, here he was with his home full of enemies and a Zhao warlord menacing him. He knew his destiny, but he had no map to follow. There were still rocks to negotiate before his life flowed smooth and straight. Each step he had to take was a mystery, but he was beginning to feel confident that he could find the way. He had his brother to help him.
“The Langhai does not like to be kept waiting,” the captain of the guard said.
Tao and the warlord were in agreement about one thing. He needed to seek a vision.
The men were waking and making their usual clamour.
“My vision will be more accurate if I have quiet,” he said.
At a signal from the captain, the Zhao soldiers fell silent.
“And Kai and Sunila must be released from their chains.”
The captain looked at the warlord for his approval, but Jilong was reluctant to free them.
“Both dragons are part of the ritual,” Tao said. “They will not try to escape.”
At a nod from Jilong, one of his men went to the stables, and the stableboy brought out the two dragons, tethered with rope. They both went to Tao and he touched their heads as if he was administering blessings.
Kai was making his impatient dinging sound. “We must take the first opportunity to escape.”
“This vision will show us the way.” Tao spoke to the dragon with his mind.
“We should have left before. If we had …” The dragon’s voice in Tao’s head paused. “Something has happened to you. Your mind is different.”
“I have accessed my qi power at last. It has not given me unusual strength, I have no special skills that will help us in a battle. I will explain it to you later. You must help me convince Jilong and his men that I am a seer.”
“You are a seer.”
“Yes, but we must put on a performance.”
With his back to Jilong, Tao slipped the vial of oil behind one of Kai’s reverse scales.
The Zhao gathered to watch as Tao sat cross-legged on a cushion and the dragons crouched next to him, one on either side. He closed his eyes and chanted part of a sutra. Then he held out his hands to the dragons. Kai took out the vial and placed it in one hand. Sunila seemed to understand what he was required to do. He reached behind one of his reverse scales as well, pulled something out and solemnly placed it in Tao’s other hand. When Tao saw what it was, he almost burst out laughing – it was a frog’s leg. A frown formed on Jilong’s brow. Tao had to think quickly to work it into his little ceremony. There were some large ants hurrying in and out of a hole in the earth nearby. He concentrated on his qi. He needed the help of the ants.
“The ways of the universe are a mystery, O Blessed One,” he said, placing the frog’s leg on the ground. “The life of our earthly flesh is fleeting.” The ants diverted from their path to examine the frog’s leg. “It dies, it decays, it is consumed.” The ants managed to lift the leg and carry it to their hole, which others were busily enlarging so that it would fit. “Our souls though, last forever, thanks to your grace.”
All of the Zhao were watching with fascination. He was half-expecting Buddha to descend from the sky and turn him into a pile of dust for spouting such nonsense. Now he had to concentrate. He had to summon a vision. Not for Jilong, but for himself and Kai.
Carefully removing the stopper from the vial, he allowed four drops of the yellow oil to drip onto his palm. He rubbed the oil into his hands, drew them together and let his eyes lose focus. He peered at his cupped hands. This time he had no doubt that a vision would appear. It did. But Tao didn’t like what he saw.
Jilong had seen the moment of hesitation on Tao’s face. He moved closer.
“What do you see?”
All eyes were on Tao. No one doubted his ability as a seer.
“I need time to decipher my vision,” he said.
“Tell me, boy!”
Tao was still staring at his palms, hoping for a different interpretation.
“You must have patience, General.”
Tao heard the intake of breath around him. None of the Zhao would dare speak to Jilong in such a way.
“Every detail is crucial. If I miss something, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat.” Tao studied the image laid out on his palms until it faded. “I saw men wearing black hoods and masks. They were outside a city gate. They had fear in their eyes. Moonlight illuminated characters
carved on a yellow earth wall.”
“Is that all?”
“That is all. I told you my visions need interpretation.”
Jilong had leaned so close, Tao could see the hairs of his beard.
“So what does it mean? The bandits will attack, that much is clear, but when? Where?”
For once, Tao knew exactly what the vision meant. But the information seemed to benefit Jilong, not the dragons.
“The masked men represent the Black Camel Bandits, as you say. The moon was low in the sky, newly risen. The attack will take place tonight, not long after midnight. And I know the carvings. They are on the walls of Luoyang near the West Brilliance Gate.”
As well as seeing these images, Tao had also felt afraid and anxious and lonely. He didn’t mention those things to the warlord.
“But are the bandits inside the city or will they attack it from that direction?”
“The carvings are on the inside of the wall. The bandits will attack that gate intending to take the garrison.”
The carvings were insults the citizens of Luoyang had crudely carved on the walls. Jilong was the only Zhao in the city who could read Huaxia. The characters were small, ill-formed and below a man’s line of sight, so there was no chance that the warlord would ever notice them. It was a small rebellion from the downtrodden people of Luoyang.
“Are you sure that they will attack this one gate?”
“Yes,” Tao said.
The nomads muttered to each other. Tao could tell they were impressed by the way he’d interpreted these few signs. Jilong was not used to trusting anyone. He stared at Tao as if he was trying to see through his skull and into his mind. Tao had described everything that he had seen in the vision, so he looked the warlord in the eye, knowing he would see no deception in his face.
“You must trust me, General.”
“Then I will station my men inside the gate, ready to ambush the bandits.”
Tao glanced at Kai. Had his visions really turned to the service of Jilong? He couldn’t believe that. He had to trust his second sight. This latest vision was of benefit to Kai, how he didn’t know. He was troubled at the thought of the Black Camel Bandits being slaughtered because of him. But mostly he was concerned about Pema.
“If we could kill them in their hide-out before they attack, that would be better,” Jilong said. “Are you sure there is no clue as to where the bandits are hiding?”
“I am sure. This is the place for the confrontation.”
Tao was glad the warlord wasn’t looking at him now. This time he would have seen the lie in his eyes. Tao remembered there had been smell and sound in a vision, not this last one, but the vision of blackness when Fo Tu Deng had wanted to know where the bandits were hiding. He had smelled incense and heard bells, prayer bells. Now he knew. The bandits were hiding in the cellars of the White Horse Temple.
Jilong ordered his men to prepare for battle.
“I will ride the naga,” he said. “Leave six men to guard the boy and his dragon.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Tao said. He had seen one other thing in the vision. He hadn’t realised its significance until that moment. “In my vision I saw my own fingers brushing the carvings. I must go with you.”
He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Luoyang, but if he went with Jilong, he could go to the White Horse Temple and warn Pema.
“And your dragon?” Jilong asked.
Tao remembered the emotions he had felt – fear, anxiety, loneliness. That could only mean one thing.
“He was not in my vision.”
Kai let out an angry roar.
“I’m sorry, Kai.” Tao spoke to the dragon with his mind. “I must be true to the vision. I don’t understand it, but it was clear. I felt my anguish, my separation from you. I was alone.”
“This is part of the plan, isn’t it? I will shape-change and come with you in secret.”
Tao shook his head and turned to Jilong. “You must lock him in the cellar so that he doesn’t try to follow me.”
This was the second time Tao’s visions had made Kai angry. Tao prayed he hadn’t made a mistake in trusting them. They had told him to leave Kai behind, and he was leading the Zhao straight to Pema.
Chapter Twenty-Six
BETRAYAL
Tao was riding behind one of Jilong’s soldiers, bouncing around like loosely tied baggage.
“Don’t sit there like a bundle of firewood,” the soldier said. “Move with the horse.”
Riding was so natural to the Zhao, the nomad couldn’t explain how to do it any more than he could instruct someone how to breathe. Tao clung to him, even though he smelled like sour milk and burnt meat.
“And let go of me.”
Tao released his grip on the nomad’s tunic and held on to the saddle blanket. That only made him more unstable.
They had waited until after dark to leave the compound for Luoyang. There was a risk that the Black Camel Bandits might attack before they got to the city, but Tao had told Jilong the exact position of the moon in his vision, and he took the chance that the attack would be after midnight. That gave the Zhao the advantage of arriving at the city under cover of darkness.
Jilong had flown off on Sunila. He would have reached the city in minutes. For those on horseback it took hours. The sound of Kai’s anguished cries as Tao left the compound still rang in his ears.
They were close to Luoyang. It was too dark to see it, but Tao could feel the hulking ruin of the city in front of them. He’d been trying to get away from Luoyang for months, and now here he was riding towards it.
Tao had hoped he would somehow be able to escape as they passed the White Horse Temple, but Jilong had told his men to ride in a wide arc around the city’s eastern wall, to avoid any possibility of ambush. They didn’t go near the temple.
The nomads turned their horses again and the walls finally loomed before them. They entered the city through the northern Broad and Boundless Gate. Tao got down from the horse, stiff and sore, but he would have climbed back on without complaint if he could have ridden away from that hateful city.
Tao walked through the gate with a sinking heart. Luoyang hadn’t changed. The yellow earth walls were still crumbling. The gates were still missing. Weeds and thorn bushes grew in the streets. The few inhabitants kept out of the way of the Zhao, slinking into the shadows, sneering and muttering when they thought they were out of earshot.
The city had a bad smell. There was no waste in Luoyang, so it wasn’t rotting rubbish that made it smell bad. It was an animal smell – sweat, urine, excrement – and the animals were human beings living in the worst possible conditions. Tao saw some people cooking their evening meal – two rats on a skewer.
Tao made his weary legs follow the Zhao soldiers down the narrow street towards the garrison in the north-west corner of the city. But before they reached the garrison, Tao’s traveling companion jabbed him with the end of his lance.
“The Langhai wants to see you,” the man said.
He led Tao to the palace ruins where Jilong had taken over a large room that would have once been grand, but it had been stripped of its fine furniture and decorations long before. There was a painting on the ceiling. It might have been the Seven Sages in the Bamboo Grove, but it was hard to tell as it was now black with soot, thanks to a fire that was burning in the middle of the room. Tao had been expecting the Zhao leader to have a high chair and a bed with elegant carvings, but all he had was a felt rug and a straw mattress, as if he was out on the plains not inside a palace. Jilong told Tao to sit with him and offered him food, but it was all meat and kumiss.
“I need more information about these Black Camel Bandits,” Jilong said. “Who are they? Where are they from? And where are they hiding?”
“I have given you all the information I have.”
“It is not enough. Seek another vision.”
“You must treat my second sight with respect, General, if it is to serve you.”
The guards in the room moved forwards, eager to punish the impudent young man, but Jilong waved them away.
“If you want me to seek another vision so soon after the last one, I must have solitude where I can meditate to regain the mental concentration I require. And I need food that does not contain meat.”
Jilong made a small movement with his hand, and two nomads took Tao to another smaller room with no roof. After a while one of them brought him grain and some sad wilted green vegetables, which Tao suspected had been snatched from one of Luoyang’s inhabitants.
There wasn’t much time. The moon would soon be rising. Tao had to escape and find Pema. But first, he would seek a vision.
The vision came quickly, and it was in shades of black and white. He saw someone lying in a puddle. He knew it was one of the Black Camel Bandits because of the black clothing and the masked face. He peered at this new vision, but could see nothing that told him more than he already knew – there would be a battle and it would be at night. He had hoped the vision would tell him how to escape and warn Pema, how to stop the battle, but it didn’t. His visions were to aid dragons, not nomad girls. And yet he couldn’t stop doubt creeping into his mind. His visions had separated him from Kai, and everything he had seen seemed to benefit Jilong.
There were no other clues, apart from a vague feeling in his fingertips, as if he was running them over silky material. He didn’t know what that meant. Tao was about to lower his hands and wipe them on his trousers, but the image on his palms became clearer as if the moon had appeared between clouds. The vision was now tinged with colour. The puddle was dark red, and there was a purplish bruise on the bandit’s forehead. And the staring eyes were blue. It was Pema lying dead in a pool of blood.
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