by Jeannie Lin
‘There is nothing honourable about fighting to the death,’ she beseeched him.
‘You already know I’m not an honourable man.’
The wagon lurched forwards, the wheels groaning beneath the weight of them. A muffled sniff came from Auntie’s side. Suyin looked back, as she always did.
Li Tao remained alone in the centre of the road with the curtain of bamboo behind him. She forced her gaze away before he became nothing but a dark shape in the distance. Her life had been a string of unwanted journeys, from the humble river bend to the imperial palace. She wanted to believe that this time she would be able to return home, that fate would allow her to come back to find it unchanged.
The ache inside her took over as the mansion disappeared from view. She stared down at her lap, her own hands feeling like they weren’t a part of her anymore.
They were going to a remote village. Cook’s family would take them in and they could disappear amongst the fields of rice and yams. Li Tao believed they would be safer there than walled inside one of the fortress cities under military control.
Now that the journey was underway, the silence became unbearable. Suyin needed some distraction. At least until they were far enough away that she knew Li Tao couldn’t come after them. Until then, she harboured a desperate hope. She kept looking behind them, imagining the sound of hoof-beats in the distance.
Auntie gripped Suyin’s hand tight and she laid her head against the old woman’s shoulder. Auntie never spoke of any children. Certainly her protectiveness toward Li Tao was much like a mother’s love.
‘Sleep,’ Auntie cooed. ‘You look tired.’
Suyin had barely closed her eyes all night. She and Li Tao had been greedy for every last moment together.
‘Maybe a week from here,’ Cook said from the driver’s seat. ‘I’ll make the Lady some special yam noodles when we get there.’
They were trying so valiantly to cheer her. She realised then that she wasn’t alone this time. Li Tao had sent more than his bodyguards. He’d sent the only family he had while he stayed behind.
The day ebbed away in stretches of silence. Cook and Auntie begged her to tell stories about the imperial palace. She described the lake and the plum blossoms in the spring, the great halls that towered over gleaming stone courtyards, making it sound like a faraway place among the clouds. There were thousands of these stories in her head about emperors and concubines and crafty servants.
‘Not these fables.’ Jun’s protest surprised her. ‘Tell us one of your stories, Lady Ling. About something exciting that happened to you.’
He leaned over from the front of the wagon eagerly, gripping the wooden plank for balance.
‘My life was very ordinary, young Jun. I walked about the palace and looked pretty. The Emperor’s caged bird.’
‘What of the insurrection? The palace was under siege for days.’
There was a gleam in Jun’s eye she had never seen before. Auntie shushed him for prying.
‘There is nothing exciting about rebellion.’ Suyin met the youth’s gaze. ‘I was very frightened. The August Emperor was dead and armed men took the inner palace by force. I thought I would be killed.’
‘For the secrets you kept.’
Jun didn’t wait for her response. Satisfied, he turned around to take the reins from Cook.
Where had this morbid curiosity come from? Jun had changed since they’d left. He seemed to stand taller with a newfound brashness. She dismissed it as a boyhood fascination with danger, but a sense of wariness remained with her.
Two travellers approached them, requesting water midway through the next day. They didn’t appear to be beggars, just worn and dusty from the journey. As soft-hearted as she was, Auntie couldn’t refuse. She rummaged through their stores for wrapped dumplings and sat them down in the shade of the wagon.
The men stared at the retinue of armed soldiers as they ate. One of them had a beard that had grown scraggly around the edges. The younger one’s face had a touch of gauntness, his skin pulled back over a pronounced forehead and sharp nose.
‘Rioting has broken out in the south,’ the bearded one said.
Suyin pulled Wang aside. A whisper would be too easy to detect so she spoke quietly and calmly. ‘Do not trust these men,’ she said, before retreating to the other side of the caravan.
Their manner was a touch too forward for peasants. If they were merchants, they carried nothing. When they finally departed, the bearded one raked his gaze over her with such lurid contemplation that Jun edged closer to her. She was touched by the fierce protectiveness that vibrated through the youth.
Was the rest of the empire becoming like this? The roads so unsafe that every stranger was cause for fear?
Wang and the bodyguards discussed the news of rebellion as they continued on the next leg of the journey. Their loyalty was first and foremost to Li Tao and they wanted to send a message to him. Once again, she heard Ru Shan’s name.
Li Tao was fighting a rebellion from within while he also prepared to defend the territory against invaders. The mood grew sullen the further they ventured. The first, feeble attempts at conversation had fallen away to silence, punctured only by the grate of the wheels.
As the wagon rumbled on, Suyin considered how easy it would be for her to convince the party to turn around and return to the bamboo sea. Cook missed his kitchen and Jun fidgeted restlessly on the seat with no gardens to busy himself with. Auntie had stopped reassuring her that Li Tao would be fine. They all wanted to go home.
Once again, the earth element in her reached out to absorb everything around her, seeking an anchor. She yearned to stay and belong somewhere. A place where her life could take root and grow. But Li Tao had sent them away to safety for a purpose. He was counting on her to lead these people. He wouldn’t let anything like sentiment muddle his judgement.
Evening came and they pulled the wagons aside. Suyin sank back as the men set up camp for the night in the wild grass beside the road. She closed her eyes against the weariness that sank deep into her bones.
‘Lady, are you not well?’
Auntie knelt over her, holding out a cup of tea. Suyin glanced over to see Cook already tending to a cooking fire for the evening meal.
‘I must have fallen asleep. I’ve been so tired lately.’
Ever since the failed trip to see the Emperor, she’d been exhausted, as if she had never recovered from the strain. She sat up, feeling selfish for complaining when she never lifted a finger. The entire household had chores that kept them busy from sunrise until sundown. She really was little more than a songbird.
‘I am fine, Auntie.’ She rolled her shoulders to shake off the feeling and sipped her tea.
‘How long have you been feeling like this?’
‘It must be because I haven’t slept. Too much worrying.’
Auntie’s voice dropped into a whisper. ‘Do you ache? Here?’ The woman touched a hand to her own breast.
Suyin’s eyes widened and that was all the confirmation the old woman needed.
‘My girl, you must be with child!’
Could it be? Suyin’s hand trailed down to her stomach. ‘So soon?’
Auntie cradled her face affectionately. Her hands felt like soft, worn leather. ‘Monkey, it only takes once. All that old gossip of you being barren.’ Auntie sniffed dismissively.
‘Auntie!’
They were whispering to one another, sharing a woman’s secret. Suddenly, Suyin was filled with a new sense of purpose. She was with child. She was with child. Such terrible power in that thought.
When the Emperor had chosen her for his charade, she had thought her life as a woman finished. No lovers, no husband, no children. Yet here she was, carrying Li Tao’s child, a part of him growing inside her.
Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. The heavens were capable of kindness after all.
‘I have to go to him,’ she whispered.
‘Lady, you can’t.’
�
�But he doesn’t know!’
‘We have the child to think of now.’
Her spirit plummeted after soaring so high. Auntie was right. Li Tao had sent them away to keep them safe. He would insist on the same for his child. Yet the need to have him beside her devoured her heart, greater than any pain she’d ever known.
She sank her head into Auntie’s lap. ‘Oh, Auntie.’
‘Think good thoughts for your little one.’
Auntie smelled like an herb cabinet, earthy and medicinal. She stroked Suyin’s hair, telling her gently once again that everything would be all right. Some part of her, deep inside, yearned for this coddling. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of Li Tao riding into battle.
‘What was Tao like, as a boy?’
Auntie told her about the textile ward, the hovels stacked together wall to wall. The seamstresses would rush to finish the sewing in the daylight because candles were expensive. Suyin was reminded of the thatched house by the river she had lived in when she was a child.
‘What of his mother?’
Auntie sighed above her. ‘His dear mother, the sorrow.’
‘Li Tao’s mother was lost when he was young.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did she take her own life?’
Auntie hushed her. ‘The sorrow,’ she murmured once again. Speaking of such sadness would conjure up the restless spirits that hovered between the living and the dead.
Li Tao remained such a mystery. On their first night, after he’d taken her on the floor of the study, she had escaped to the edge of the gorge in tears. Li Tao had rushed to her side. It was the only time she’d seen fear in his eyes. He’d pulled her into his arms to protect her. The cold-hearted warlord had always tried to protect her. He was trying to protect them all.
If they hadn’t wasted so much time fighting one another, she might know him better. This man who had irrevocably become a part of her.
‘One day Tao left and Auntie did not see him for years. Auntie knew he was alive and that he remembered, because he would send gifts. Money and rice. When Auntie saw him again, he was no longer a boy.’
Suyin started to drift, soothed by Auntie’s touch and voice.
‘He had grown tall, his shoulders wide,’ Auntie continued. ‘He said we were going to Chengdu. When Auntie asked him if he worked for the military governor, he told her that he was the jiedushi.’
Suyin remembered the stir within the court. Li Tao the war hero, the Emperor’s relentless executioner, given the command of an entire military district. A great honour for one so young.
‘So you see, Tao will know what to do,’ Auntie murmured.
Auntie’s voice was beginning to fade to the edges of her consciousness. Suyin was getting so sleepy, lying there in the wagon. Her thoughts drifted to her baby. She didn’t want to send a letter, a feeble scattering of characters on paper in the hands of a messenger. She wanted to tell Li Tao herself. She wanted him to put his arms around her.
Heaven and earth, she didn’t even know how he would react to the news. Li Tao had never spoken of the future.
‘This turned out to be a happy day after all,’ Auntie said.
‘I’m very happy,’ she echoed obediently. A child was supposed to be a joyous thing. She was supposed to be elated and suffused with warmth. In truth, she was confused. The future rippled like the surface of a pond, blurred and unknown before her.
Cook was calling them to dinner, but her body was so tired. She wanted to stay and rest. She would close her eyes and think of Li Tao. Suyin wrapped her arms around herself, feeling small beneath the open sky. At that moment, only she and Auntie knew that everything in the world had changed. It was a secret.
Once again, she had a secret, but one that was more momentous and devastating than any she’d ever kept.
Chapter Nineteen
Suyin couldn’t open her eyes. She tried to, tried to force herself awake. How long had she been asleep and where was she? It was dark. A rushing noise filled her ears, like the rustling of cloth in the wind. Heat lashed at her.
‘Lady Ling is in there!’ Auntie’s voice cut through the blackness. ‘She’s in the wagon.’
No, she wasn’t. Her thoughts were coming one moment too slow. Coarse grass pricked against her cheek. Her fingers scraped against hard earth when she tried to move them. She wanted to say something, but her lips refused to move.
I’m over here!
But that was only her mind crying out. An arm hooked around her waist and hefted her up with a grunt. All around her, she could hear footsteps pounding and the clash of swords. Auntie was still screaming.
A shoulder jostled against her stomach as she was lifted up over someone’s back. Her first thought was of her baby. Whoever held her started running and the sounds of the camp faded in the distance.
‘Stop…please.’ Her mouth formed thickly around the words. Her throat was so dry. She needed to tell them to be careful. Please, please be careful.
The shouting was starting to fade. She tried to call out to the swordsman Wang, to Cook. Even to Jun, but she was so weak. She tried to dig her nails into her abductor, but her fingers fell away, slack. She couldn’t feel her hands. Her breathing slowed and she slipped away again, her mind going slippery and dark as if sinking into black water.
When her mind broke through the fog she heard strange voices. Her first thought was of Gao. He had broken through Li Tao’s defences to capture her.
‘Lady Ling, drink this.’
The familiar voice filled her with relief. ‘Jun?’
Daylight filtered through her lashes and she could see Jun holding out a cup folded from a palm leaf.
‘Please drink,’ he urged. ‘It’s water.’
She remembered him in the wagon last night, much in the same position as he offered her a bowl of rice soup. It was her last memory before the fire. Her eyes narrowed.
‘Jun,’ she said again, her tone accusing.
He looked stricken as she struggled to sit up. She needed to force this cloud from her mind fast.
‘So this is Li Tao’s woman.’
They weren’t alone. The unfamiliar voice and the underlying threat in it sent her pulse skittering. There were two men standing behind Jun.
‘This must be An Ying,’ she said evenly.
Jun’s eyes widened at the mention of the secret name. The bearded man grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking him back before he could respond. Water flung from the cup and the droplets splashed over her.
‘Your job is done, boy.’
She squinted listlessly at the shadowed figure, exaggerating the effect of the drug. She recognised the unruly beard and the thick eyebrows. It was the ragged stranger they had encountered on the road. His gaunt companion with the pointed, badger-like face stood behind him. At first she thought Gao had abducted her, but he didn’t need to employ such guile. Old Gao would have killed her immediately. ‘Ling Guifei,’ the bearded man pronounced her title speculatively. His tone sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Li Tao is a lucky man.’
‘Don’t touch her, Zheng.’ Jun tried to force himself between them. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Dead,’ Zheng declared.
Her heart stopped. For a second, she thought he was speaking about Auntie and the servants.
‘The boy didn’t tell us the swordsmen with you were the Shining Guard.’ Zheng took hold of her chin, lifting her face to his. She had no choice but to let him. ‘We sacrificed many of our men.’
Wang and the rest of Li Tao’s guards had put up a fight. She prayed that Auntie and Cook had escaped. The brutal calculation in Zheng’s eyes knotted her stomach, but she stayed silent, afraid to goad him. She had faced death before and survived. That knowledge and the need to see Li Tao again gave her strength.
Jun continued to lunge forwards, ignoring Zheng’s greater size and strength. ‘We are to bring her back unharmed. My orders come from Lao Sou.’
The Badger pulled Jun back. ‘We have orders too,’
he said calmly.
The mention of the Old Man made Zheng hesitate, but it was clear the two of them not only outranked, but could overpower, Jun. Zheng had no intention of taking orders from the boy.
He scrubbed a hand over his beard. ‘All I want is a taste of what Ling Guifei gives Li Tao so freely. No harm at all.’
Choking back a cry, Suyin wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She wouldn’t show any fear. She wouldn’t show any emotion at all.
‘Li Tao will find you and kill you,’ she promised.
Zheng loomed over her and her bravado faded. She shrank back, turning her face aside. He leaned close enough that she could feel the swipe of his breath against her cheek.
‘I will be waiting,’ he said with a mock intimacy that made her blood go cold.
He hooked his fingers into her bodice and wrenched downwards. Her robe split at the seam, the rending of silk deafening. She bit down on her lip and willed the pain to take away her fear.
Jun struggled free, only to have Zheng swat him back. His meaty arm connected with the boy’s jaw. She cringed at the sharp impact. All she could think of was Li Tao and their baby. A surge of protectiveness seized her and she squeezed her eyes shut. She would survive this. No matter what they did to her, she had to stay alive.
‘Is that all you have, Ling Guifei? No fight left in you?’
Her eyes flew open. Zheng was breathing hard, aroused. This went beyond lust. He was savouring his power over her and, more importantly, his power over Li Tao. There was an old grudge there. She was certain of it.
A cry rose behind them. In a whiplash of motion, Jun snapped forwards, a knife gleaming in his good hand. Badger staggered backwards with blood seeping through his fingers.
‘We have orders,’ Jun snarled.
This could be her only chance. She shoved at Zheng and scrambled to her feet. The ground lurched unexpectedly and her vision blurred. Her skirt clung like a net about her ankles when she tried to run. A trace of whatever Jun had put into her food remained in her.
