The Prisoners of Fate: Sequel to The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  “His Majesty managed to sever ties with material things like the throne, the wealth and the fleshly comforts that come with it, as well as the earthly emotions like pride, fear and greed, but he could never ignore the soul tie he has with his son. No parent could. I am sure not one day passed without him thinking of Zhu Wenkui and blaming himself for abandoning his son to his death all those years ago,” Li Jing said with great intensity. “Yes, you bet he never forgave himself.”

  Zhao frowned at the thought. “That kind of burden can kill a man.”

  “Yes it can. It almost killed me to see Li Po suffer before we came here. I would do anything, including raiding hell, to give her a good life.” Li looked at his friend. “Every father would.”

  Zhao patted the Acrobat on the shoulder. “Indeed you raided hell to rescue her from that blood-drinking Marquis.” He then asked his friend, “So you think Jian Wen would have returned with Ji Gang?”

  Li shrugged. “I don’t know, but I would not be surprise if he did. In fact, I would be surprised if he did not.”

  “But he turned Ji Gang down.”

  “Well…he does not trust Ji Gang right? Just like we don’t. But Ji Gang knows that if we agree his chance of persuading his Majesty improves drastically.”

  Zhao nodded. “We don’t trust that imperial dog. But one thing about Ji Gang is he does not break his word.”

  “Humph,” Li snorted. “Are you sure about that, Commander?”

  “He has a bigger game that we do not know of, but if he promised us safe passage, he would,” Zhao explained.

  “But now, the problem is not about the Eastern Depot right? We do not know who Ji Gang is up against, and we don’t want to bite off more than we can chew.” The Acrobat sighed at the difficult situation.

  Zhao cracked his knuckles noisily. “Well…I promised his Majesty.”

  “I will come with you. He was my master too,” Li replied.

  “No. Stay. Your daughter will miss you.” Zhao put a restraining hand on his comrade’s shoulder.

  “My daughter is thirty years old, Commander. She does not need me,” Li replied evenly. “Instead, I think you need me more – to watch your back against the Dong Chang or the eunuchs. It is a dark cave with tigers you are diving into.” Then Li Jing added with great emotion, “I felt his pain just before he died, the agony a father feels throughout a lifetime when he had let his children down without being able to make amends. It is only right we help him find his son, so his soul will rest in peace in the next world.”

  Zhao clapped Li on the arm, “Hao xiongdi! ‘Good comrade!’”.

  The Acrobat looked at Zhao Qi, his former commander and sighed. “Of the team, there are only two of us left to fulfil his Majesty’s wish.”

  “Only two of us. Only two of us left indeed,” Zhao repeated.

  “Let me go and say goodbye to my daughter first.”

  15

  “No! No!” Li Po screamed when her father, the Acrobat, told her what had happened. “I will not let you go Diedie ‘father’!”

  “Li Po, I....”

  “I forbid it!” she cried out, tears flowing down her cheeks. “We escaped from the devil’s clutches and now you want to jump back right in?”

  “His Majesty needs us.”

  “HIS MAJESTY IS DEAD!” she rebutted her father. “While I am alive! You want to leave me all alone here?”

  The Acrobat remained silent as his daughter wailed. He had not expected this reaction. He thought she had grown up and had forgotten their years as fugitives, but clearly she had not. When her father came in with Zhao that morning, she had welcomed them as brightly as the sunshine, but her father’s sombre expression told her something was terribly wrong. When he announced they had just buried the monk she had sat down slowly, sorrow etched on her face. Fifteen years ago, the night they escaped, she had bravely stood her ground before Ji Gang to save the emperor - a fifteen year old girl standing up against the empire’s deadliest man. But ever since she had nightmares of the commander of the Eastern Depot. In real life they escaped from the emperor’s hounds, but in her dreams they came for father and daughter again and again until they were finally captured and executed in a million different ways - all of them painful and frightening enough to make her wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

  She continued her tirade. “You can even trust Ji? That man is a monster! Do you know how many people, our friends included, the Dong Chang has killed? And now you will go with him? Father, are you mad?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she chastised her father.

  Her father looked upon her sadly, aware of the visceral fear Ji Gang evoked. Too many times he had to hold her tight and calm her down, hushing her as she struggled and screamed in fear of the Eastern Depot when they came for her in her dreams.

  Without respite, she turned on Zhao. “It must be you, Commander. You go where your loyalty takes you, but leave my father alone! He has done his duty, and he deserves a good life. He risked everything to survive, to find peace, don’t take it away now!”

  “Commander Zhao is not responsible for my decision child. In fact, he asked me not to go.”

  “Then why, Father!?” she pleaded. Agony contorted her features, forcing tears out of her eyes and onto her cheeks.

  “Because I am a father too,” the Acrobat explained gently. “I understand how Jian Wen felt at those last moments. Remember those days I agonised over your suffering when we were wanderers? His pain for his son was all too clearly etched on his face before he died. I couldn’t bear to let him carry that sorrow into his next life,” he replied sadly.

  “He no longer suffers, Father,” she refuted him. “And your loyalty to him ends today.”

  The Acrobat was undeterred. “In fact, he only asked Zhao to go. The emperor knew he should not send me away from you, but our commander cannot go alone. This is too dangerous, even for him.”

  She started to sob. She knew the fierce loyalty that bonded her father and his warriors. It was the same bond that brought them to her rescue all those years ago when she was kidnapped by a cannibalistic noble, who believed that the flesh of virgins would extend his life. Back then, every one of his father’s friends volunteered to save her without hesitation, despite the fact that it could jeopardise the mission to save the emperor and their lives. They had faced danger because they felt their brother’s pain. It was useless to argue. She knew her father would not let the commander go alone because it would be suicidal. He would not allow the emperor monk to die without his last wish fulfilled and if the crown prince was alive, he would not allow him to die.

  It was no use telling men like them that it was no longer their fight. Faithfulness, courage and danger were ingrained in men like her father. She hated it, but she knew that it was the same traits that drove Zhao and his band to save her all those years ago. Her father, Uncle Farmer, Long Wu and Yula, the female warrior from the Mongol tribes, all heroes she loved and respected, and it were these characteristics that hailed them as the heroes she was so proud of. But all of them except her father were now dead, and now he wanted to plunge headlong into the abyss where hungry dragons lurked. She could not bring herself to give him her blessings. What daughter would wish her father luck on his journey to hell?

  She leapt from her chair and hugged him tightly, burying her head on his chest like she had done so many times. “Father...!”

  “It’s alright, my child. Everything will be fine. I promise I will return,” he cooed to her, like he did when she was little.

  Her heart was heavy with premonition. Anything to do with Ji Gang was bad, and the land of the Ming was accursed for their family. She lost her mother there, and almost lost her father the night they escaped. How could she let him return to such a place? She held him tightly, afraid that when she let go he would never return.

  “Do not fear, my child. Do not fear.”

  Yet she wailed as though she was at a funeral.

  16

  A couple of hours
later Ji Gang rose from where he sat on the bridge of his ship when he spotted his former enemies. Zhao and his team were the only fugitives who had ever escaped from the Eastern Depot and Ji Gang greatly respected them for that. It was testament to their skill and wit, and a good feeling washed over him as the two men approached the vessel with luggage bags over their shoulders. Additionally, Zhao carried a covered sabre, the sheathed weapon resting on his shoulder while the Acrobat carried the guandao, a poled weapon with a curved, thick blade like a heavy sabre.

  How deadly they are. How fortuitous to have them on my side. His lips curved into a cold smile.

  Zhao raised a hand to shade his eyes from the glare as he stared at the ship anchored down the long jetty. Amidst the myriad of ship designs, the one he was looking at was distinctly Ming. Next to the numerous yellow Ming flags fluttering in the sea breeze was a bald man. The empire’s deadliest assassin stood looking at them with his hands behind his back. As still as a statue, he cut an impressive figure even in his simple blue tunic. Ji Gang became bigger and bigger as they walked down the pier toward the boat, past the numerous barebacked workers and sailors going about their tasks. Some were heaving sacks of goods where others washed nets and repaired equipment. Zhao’s eyes swept through the crowd, looking for a sign of ambush, his hand tightening on the sabre’s grip.

  There were none. The workers were not soldiers or agents in disguise. Some of them even greeted the two warriors - villagers, fishermen, people whom Zhao recognised. He smiled back, masking his internal turmoil. Ji Gang continued to stand like a host awaiting their arrival at the boat.

  They walked up the steep gangway leading up to the boat and Ji Gang stood there to welcome them. The first moment was laced with awkwardness as former foes temporarily aligned, looking at one another. The only sound was the fluttering of the flag in the breeze.

  Wap-wap-wap

  Zhao turned and looked nostalgically at the jetty, and a little beyond at the sea-side town and the surrounding green hills. His heart felt a pang as though it anticipated the loss. This place had been home for the last fifteen years, a place of refuge for fugitives to live their lives peacefully without danger. They had fought so hard to be here, and now they were returning to the tiger’s lair with a man who once had tried his best to kill them. Am I mad? Am I foolishly leading my only surviving comrade to hell? The emerald hills, the turquoise sea and the friendly people; this was home. He glanced into the water and saw the reflection of the sand forming a white canvass against the colourful fishs darting about, adding motion to the lazy waters.

  Will I see this paradise again? he pondered sadly.

  “I honour your loyalty and courage,” Ji Gang greeted them.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Zhao replied tersely. He walked past the commander of the Eastern Depot and into the hold of the boat. He heard Ji Gang shout in his loud, powerful voice.

  “Sail!”

  Several hands went to work at once. There was a lurch, and the ship was off. Li and Zhao came out after they had stored their things, standing by the deck and gazing at their home until it became so small they had to squint. Li thought he saw a lady standing by the edge of the pier looking...looking. Tears formed in his eyes and for a moment, he genuinely regretted going. He closed his eyes, and in his mind a picture of Li Po formed like a beautiful portrait. Long flowing black hair, slightly oval brown eyes, lips that conveyed kindness. Tian! ‘Heavens!’ How she resembles her mother! Her daughter had never gotten over the death of his wife when they were fugitives. It was why her father was everything to her.

  Was duty and honour more binding than blood?

  When they had hugged, he felt something passed from her to him - a cold dread of death. Both father and daughter knew, and as much as he tried to pretend it did not exist he knew what his daughter felt. He knew why she had tried so hard to persuade him not to go. His heart broke, as he silently contemplated the fact that he might never see his beloved child again.

  Zhao, who had been observing his comrade asked, “Something’s wrong?”

  His friend was silent for awhile before he replied. “A chill passed from Li Po to me when we hugged.”

  Zhao frowned. His grip on the rail tightened until his knuckles turned white. “A bad omen.”

  “Don’t fuss over it. We have survived too many battles to believe in such things. We depend on our skill, and our friends,” the Acrobat said as he waved his hand to dismiss his friend’s concern. Zhao remained silent. He wished it were true.

  The ship sailed lazily out of the harbour, accompanied by the sounds of gulls in the air. The green waters slowly changed into a rich dark blue as the ship left the coastal waters and headed into the ocean. A gentle breeze blew, cooling them from the relentless sun. Then a rough command, like gravel scratching the ground, broke their peaceful reverie.

  “Bring all eunuchs before me,” Ji Gang barked. His guards searched the boat.

  Curious, Zhao and Li went over to the commander. “What are you doing?” Zhao asked.

  Ji Gang ignored Zhao’s question. Soon, a few men were roughly brought before the commander.

  “Strip.”

  The fearful men looked uncertainly at one another. The youngest looked just out of his teens.

  “I said strip!” Ji Gang bellowed. The men started taking off their clothes until they stood before him naked. The sun shone on their pale bodies and they started to perspire from heat and fear. The commander waited in silence, letting them stew in their fear and humiliation.

  “Ji Gang,” Zhao raised his voice in warning.

  “This is my ship, Commander Zhao,” Ji said, silencing his critic.

  Out of the four men, three were eunuchs. They did not have any genitals, and their mutilation doomed them. Ji Gang pointed at the three half-men like a god deciding the fate of lesser beings.

  “Throw them into the sea.”

  “No!” they protested. “Mercy, Lord! What have we done? Spare us! We are good sailors. NO!”

  Ji Gang’s men moved efficiently. They manhandled the condemned men to the edge of the boat before shoving them roughly, one-by-one, into the deep. There were three discomforting splashes, followed by intermittent screaming as the waves blotted them out. Soon the ship was too far away for them to swim to, and in the open sea, the currents were strong – the men had no chance at all. Zhao looked aghast at the bobbing heads before they disappeared. Ji Gang’s coldness shocked him, and he wondered what he had gotten himself into. Despite the hot sun, he felt a chill creep up his spine.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he rebuked the imperial agent, the words barely escaping from his clenched teeth.

  “We are at war,” Ji Gang replied simply, without any trace of emotion. “And they are enemies.”

  “You don’t know that. There are thousands of eunuchs. Is every one of them your enemy?” The Acrobat shot back.

  “Only those who are close enough to harm our mission. I do not know if they are innocent or not, but I cannot take that risk. I must assume any one of them could snitch and reveal your identities.” His eyes narrowed as he continued. “Nobody must know that both of you are coming back. No one.”

  “So that you can use us without raising suspicion,” Zhao finished the sentence for him.

  “Yes. Remember, someone must have told the eunuchs about my visit to the Jian Wen Emperor,” Ji Gang shot back.

  “You still do not have proof it was them. You could have locked them up until you returned to the Ming.”

  “Commander Zhao, back when you were the emperor’s chief bodyguard, would you have tolerated a threat coming so close? Would you take the risk?” Ji said, glaring at him. “I know you wouldn’t then. But it is clear now you have gone soft.”

  Zhao and Li stared at him without breaking eye contact, but there was nothing more to say. Ji Gang was ruthless to the core, but for now he was their ally and he was correct. Someone did leak about Ji Gang’s secret mission to the eunuchs.

  There
was no more turning back from their deal with the devil.

  17

  “Lord, I have repeated the story many times,” the constable pleaded.

  “You will not stop until I tell you to,” the man in civilian clothing replied. His concentration never wavered as he recorded each word. By asking the man to repeat, he was confirming and re-confirming details, sifting out opinions from facts, slowly forming an accurate picture in his head about what had happened.

  After witnessing the killing of the magistrate and three of his colleagues by the mysterious Zhu Wenkui, he had reported the incident to the regional military commander. Usually, the magistrate was the right man to sound the alarm, but now due to his death there was no more chain of command. The military commander had come with a large force the next day and saw the bodies. A quiet man in civilian dress had accompanied the commander - even the military officer deferred to this man. Now they were back in the Yamen, and he sat with the unknown man at a table, answering his millions of questions. Suddenly, he had become very important as a sole surviving witness. The Yamen was closely guarded by heavily armed troops throughout night and day. Little did they know that he was in no danger, for the purpose in sparing him was to let him spread the story of what happened that night. His existence, more than his death, gave credence to the crown prince from hell.

  He told the man again how the quiet evening was disrupted by the ‘soldier’ running into the magistrate’s office requesting help, how they had run to the scene of crime believing that they were going to help their comrades against the mysterious Zhu Wenkui, and then how the rogue led them far away from the town before slaughtering them like children against a giant. He shuddered as he remembered the pale face, chiselled jaw, and long, wild hair of the man. Despite his great bulk, the killer was not cumbersome, and instead had been a killing machine. The man in civilian dress noted his discomfort.

  “You are afraid of him,” he said matter-of-factly. He was not insinuating anything.