Dreaming of Zhou Gong

by Traci Harding

  ‘— make little princes, I get the picture And what do we do when Uncle Xian takes offence to your regency? Are you prepared to kill your own brothers?’

  ‘I promised your father I would kill every single one if that proved necessary to keep the peace.’ Dan repeated his vow for Song’s benefit.

  ‘But I know you, Uncle, you do not give up power easily.’ Song warily waved a finger at Dan. ‘You gave up an entire province to maintain your influence over my father, and therefore the entire land —’

  Dan was insulted by the prince’s summation of his actions.

  ‘How do I know you will hand over rule at the due time, and not use your considerable influence with the chieftains to usurp me?’

  Jiang Taigong felt compelled to interject. ‘I assure your majesty, Zhou Gong Dan is not such a man, but Guan Shu Xian definitely is.’

  The duke held up a hand, thankful for the prime minister’s support, but he was eager to settle this score himself. ‘If I could retire to a large library in the middle of nowhere, I would be perfectly content for the rest of my days. I have no desire to rule, or even be at court, but until you come of age, I shall remain to advise you at Haojing as per your father’s will.’

  ‘And what of my will?’ Song was obviously wondering how much free rein he would be allowed to have.

  ‘You are the king. I serve you, majesty, and my resources are at your disposal.’ Dan bowed his head to Song, although as a Wu he was his equal and not bound to do so.

  ‘Until we have a conflict of interest,’ Song figured.

  ‘I feel very sure it will never come to that,’ the duke replied confidently.

  ‘I feel very sure it will,’ Song replied, managing to get the duke’s hackles up with the certainty of his statement. ‘But we shall see. In the first place, I shall not be taking you with me to Li Shan. I will be taking Fen Gong.’

  Dan was angered and entirely speechless for a moment. He had hoped to see Jiang Hudan and tell her what he had learned from Hreen, but apparently the prince intended to make it much more difficult for him to see her. So he sucked up his disappointment and managed an indifferent tone. ‘Of course, majesty. There are many preparations I must to attend to.’

  ‘Impressive,’ Song assessed his uncle’s demeanour and was satisfied for the moment. ‘I shall not detain you.’

  The duke gladly seized the opportunity to make a shrewd withdrawal.

  The morning of Ji Fa’s funeral, Ji Song personally went to check whether his bride-to-be was in any fit state to attend the service with him.

  It had been reported to the prince that Yin Hui Ru had caused such a commotion with her unladylike behaviour and delusional rants, that she’d been moved out of the women’s quarters and into a locked chamber in the palace that was usually reserved for important political prisoners. The house physicians were questioning if she was even mentally fit to be Queen of Zhou. Given these alarming reports Song felt that he should take a second look at his choice and see if she still tickled his fancy.

  When the door was unbolted, Song entered to find Hui Ru hanging upside down from a rafter in her sleepwear, doing stomach crunches. ‘Why are you not dressed?’

  ‘Give me my clothes back and I will happily oblige.’ She backflipped down to confront her visitor; her clothes were half hanging off her petite, fit form, and she wasn’t at all worried that he was copping an eyeful of her bountiful cleavage.

  ‘You cannot go to the king’s funeral dressed like a poacher, or like this,’ and he indicated her present clothing.

  ‘The king is dead?’ she said, clearly devastated.

  ‘Some days now,’ he replied.

  ‘This is terrible news!’ She backed up and took a seat on the bed, on top of the clothes that had been laid out for her to wear. ‘Praise Shangdi for Zhou Gong.’

  ‘Zhou Gong!’ Song was sick to death of hearing how admired his uncle was. ‘I am king! I am the Tianzi and thus the highest authority in the land.’

  ‘But Zhou Gong is the wisest man alive, everyone knows that!’ she told him and had no qualms in saying so. ‘If I were the late king I would have named Zhou Gong my successor, in alignment with the new Zhou policy of awarding the office to the man most able. I feel sure Zhou Gong would take my troubles seriously.’

  ‘Zhou Gong knows, just as I do, that there is no such thing as monsters or demons,’ Ji Song reasoned.

  ‘Oh!’ Hui Ru gave a cry of frustration. ‘Is there no one in the four quarters who will believe me?’

  ‘You can stop the act,’ Song appealed. ‘You have my attention!’

  ‘It is not an act!’ She appeared at her wit’s end, and Song was certainly nearing his.

  ‘Then we will find a cure for this madness of yours —’

  ‘The cure is for you to ride east with me, and kill the thing that is posing as my grandfather!’ she challenged, and Song threw his hands up in complete bewilderment. ‘What is necessary for you to take me seriously?’ Hui Ru stood and took slow purposeful steps toward him. ‘You want my body? Take it! I don’t care! I shall sleep with every man in Haojing if it means I get my revenge.’ She came to a stop before him.

  I can see now why my advisors are so concerned, Song frowned, not knowing what to make of her. ‘What kind of a lady would say such a thing?’

  Hui Ru appeared tempted to be offended, but decided better of it. ‘You are right, majesty, I am not the manner of woman who would do the Zhou honour as queen.’ She knelt before him. ‘Please, let me go and choose another more worthy. And allow me to pursue my quest to seek aid for my house, I beg you.’ She bowed all the way down to the ground.

  ‘I see your game now,’ Song acknowledged and backed up few paces, offended. ‘I am not eager to wed either, but I have no choice!’

  ‘No, majesty, you misunderstand —’

  ‘I could have you quartered for offending your king thus,’ he shouted. ‘You speak of defending your family from a beast! That beast is you, for you have no honour.’

  Her hardline attitude changed as her mind ticked over, and she realised the volatile position she had placed herself in. ‘I will dress for the funeral, if you still wish it,’ She bowed to the ground again.

  ‘So you can slip away at the first opportunity?’ Song was not stupid. ‘Or shame yourself beyond redemption before we wed? I think not.’

  She raised her head to look at him, her large dark eyes afire with the conflict raging in her mind.

  ‘The next time you need bother dressing is for our wedding,’ he advised her sternly. ‘And you had best be ready, willing and perfectly able, or I will have your house burned to the ground, along with everyone in it! Better that, than have you shame the house of the great Minister Jizi with your cowardly nonsense! Do you understand?’

  She was openly weeping now, which only added to Song’s disgust — he’d never purposely made a woman weep before. But as she was sobbing for shame, he was not moved by her performance. ‘I understand, majesty. You are most gracious,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  The king was too irate to speak, but merely breathed heavily to maintain his composure as he exited the room and slammed the door in his wake.

  ‘Bastard!’ she yelled, and every muscle in Song’s body tensed to prevent him from going back in there.

  ‘Your majesty.’ The head of the interior was waiting to hear what was to be done about the girl.

  ‘I uphold my choice,’ Song replied, jaw clenched in determination. ‘I shall wed Yin Hui Ru tomorrow evening, when I return from Li Shan. Do not let her out of that room before then.’

  The master of the interior was naturally completely mortified to hear this. ‘If your majesty is certain.’

  ‘Never more so.’ Song was no scholar, and he was certainly no monk, but there was one rule his father had taught him to live by and that was to always leave a woman better than he found her. Whatever was truly behind Hui Ru’s troubling behaviour he would expose it eventually, and hopefully he would do it with
somewhat more patience than he had just displayed. It did not feel good to have reproached the woman he intended to marry, but Hui Ru obviously needed to grow up and do her great family honour, just as he must.

  After his quarrel with Hui Ru, the funeral of Ji Fa was even more of an emotional drain for Song. The day was one of the longest of his young life, and the fact that he was suddenly expected to lead such a ceremony made it all the more harrowing.

  The guarded procession out of town took an age, as people came from far and wide to farewell their late king, who had returned prosperity, stability and peace to their everyday lives. They also came to hail their new sovereign and it felt decidedly surreal to have the fate of the entire land resting in his hands.

  It was like a beautiful, peaceful dream to finally be standing on the Li Shan jetty, with Fen Gong, his tigress and a handful of guards, to transport the large, ornately carved coffin containing the king’s body. It was a few hours to sunset and yet an ample waxing moon rose over the steamy waters of the lake. Even the guards were quiet to show their respect for the occasion and the serenity of the place, as the torches of summons were set ablaze.

  Song breathed deep of the warm moisture from the thermal waters and felt instantly revived, then turned to note Fen’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Thank you, my friend,’ said Song, realising that he had the healer to thank for the sudden lift in his spirits.

  ‘Thank you, majesty, for bringing me to visit my home,’ Fen said, looking about proudly. The land abutting the jetty had been awarded to him by the late queen. ‘I miss my sisters.’

  Song grinned but made no derogatory comment.

  ‘Very good, majesty,’ Fen awarded, noting his restraint.

  The king nodded. ‘Not really. If I meet a Wu who reads thoughts, I am done for.’

  Fen grinned. ‘Honesty is also an admirable quality.’

  ‘What I should I have said,’ Song considered, ‘is that … now that you are no longer required to be at the king’s bedside every day, you shall be more at liberty to visit at least one of them.’

  The young count was excited. ‘I should love to take Ling Hu to visit her siblings.’

  ‘You may do so immediately upon our return to Haojing,’ Song granted.

  ‘But your wedding, majesty?’ Fen pointed out.

  ‘Will be a very small, speedy affair, I should imagine,’ Song advised, ‘and your presence is not required. It is far more important that you are here with me on Li Shan, as Zhou Gong is such a boring travelling companion.’

  ‘I have never found him so,’ Fen said in defence of his lord.

  Again Song grinned, but chose not to comment, as he turned his sights to the approaching ferry.

  They need not have bothered with the soldiers, as the black clothed Wu who guarded the ferry had no problem raising and drawing Ji Fa’s coffin on board their craft. Much to the king’s and Fen’s disappointment, it was not Hudan who was sent to greet them, but another of her ilk, and upon their arrival at Li Shan, Ji Song was led straight into a meeting with the Great Mother.

  Yi Wu was not veiled today, and Song was rather smitten by her as she was far more attractive than expected. He wondered if this woman could possibly be the Great Mother, but when she spoke, he recognised her voice well enough. As he could find anyone by thinking about them, Yi Wu’s decision to expose her face to him was flattering and a vote of confidence that he would gain her blessing on his reign.

  The Great Mother expressed her deep condolences for the loss of her dear friend, Ji Fa, and advised that he would be laid to rest at dawn behind the temple of Heaven alongside Yi Jiang. ‘You have some mighty boots to fill,’ she emphasised, and then smiled in reassurance. ‘But you will do your forefathers proud, brother Song. I have foreseen it.’

  It was refreshing to have someone show some faith in him. ‘I trust in your word, Great Mother, although many will not.’

  ‘You may be a young man, Song, but you are an old soul. You must allow others time to see your potential, for you have yet to fully realise it yourself,’ she counselled. ‘Your first step along that path to greatness you will take tomorrow; so let us discuss that, shall we?’

  Song’s goddess rite would take place in the afternoon, so that he might return to Haojing by nightfall to be wed; there was no formal crowning — once the king died, his successor was sovereign. The Great Mother then discussed the purpose and particulars of the rite of Gao Mei, and Song got a rude shock when he discovered his goddess was to be chosen for him by Feng-Huang. The fact that he must abstain from ejaculation throughout the entire rite so that he might seed his queen was more than a little alarming, so he was not looking forward to the ride back to Haojing. Unless, of course, he used Wu means to get back there. He understood now, what Dan had meant when he’d suggested that the rite would be wasted without a wife! The expression on his face must have said it all.

  ‘What did you expect, my young friend? No rite of passage is easy,’ Yi Wu contended. ‘This is a holy order, not a brothel.’

  ‘I understand, Great Mother.’ Inside, Song was raging to think that his uncle obviously knew the conditions of this rite and had never thought to set him straight on the matter. The prince considered Dan was probably feeling smug and superior right now, knowing what a slim chance it was that Song’s aspiration to have Hudan as his goddess would be realised. But still, a chance was more than the duke had, and Song praised Tian for that. ‘Is that all, Great Mother?’

  ‘There is one more thing I need to make very clear to you.’ Yi Wu leaned forward in her chair. ‘The Wu in you must remain hidden from everyone who is not already aware. You must not use your power in front of anyone you do not intend to kill.’

  ‘I had not planned to,’ the king replied. ‘My people will certainly not respect me if they believe I acquired my throne via supernatural means.’

  Yi Wu smiled, satisfied. ‘Wisely spoken. The powers must be developed and kept in reserve for another time.’

  The assertion was interesting and Song wished to know more about that other time, but as he opened his mouth the Great Mother shook her head.

  ‘On your deathbed, it shall be made clear,’ she advised.

  ‘But what use shall I be as an old man?’ he appealed.

  ‘I am older than you can imagine, and my soul-mind is older still. Do you think I have reached the end of my usefulness?’

  ‘No, Great Mother,’ Song said, humbly. ‘I meant no offence, I am just curious about the many mysteries of this order that I do not understand.’

  ‘Heed your mentor, Ji Song, and before long —’ The Great Mother broke off her sentence as the young king appeared so aggravated by the advice. ‘The lessons you find so tedious are more important than you think, for everything on earth is connected and has meaning. If you do not listen to the counsel of others, you may spend twice the amount of time, and endure far harder lessons, in gathering the knowledge and experience you need in order to understand the bigger picture by yourself. For we are all one.’

  When Ji Song exited into the cloister, he was reeling from information overload, emotional exhaustion and stress. There was a novice of the house waiting to show him to his quarters, but as there was still an hour or so of daylight left he requested instead to take a turn in the garden. The young king was led to the gate in the heaven’s garden courtyard, which he’d never even noticed before, and there he excused his guide.

  Song had been made aware that Hudan often spent time in the garden at this time of day, and at the fork in the path he heard laugher and followed it down the low road toward the thermal pool.

  To the king’s utter delight, Fen was in the water, and Hudan was just climbing out of the heated pool, her fully naked form steaming and glistening in the last of the sunlight. On her left thigh Song noted the dark stripe of a birthmark, and grinned. Such a mark made her easily differentiated from other women, and he wondered if Zhou Gong had ever seen it. Probably not. He considered his uncle too refined to seduce his way unde
rneath the skirts of such a woman. ‘Brothers!’ he called loudly to announce himself and Hudan wound her drying cloth around her as Fen waved the king forth.

  ‘Come in, majesty, this is just what you need.’ Fen swam about, appearing completely revitalised.

  ‘I feel you are right about that,’ he awarded, looking at Hudan. ‘If that will cause no offence?’

  ‘Not at all, I was just leaving.’ Hudan walked past him toward the exit pathway, as Song began to strip. ‘I have made up your old bed,’ Hudan advised Fen, ‘if you’d like to sleep in our room?’

  ‘I would like that, very much,’ he said, grinning broadly.

  ‘Why do you always get to have a slumber party with the girls?’ Song jested, and then looked to Hudan. ‘Afraid I might pop in for a visit?’ He stripped his shirt away to show off his perfectly crafted body.

  ‘Not at all … I know your majesty is far smarter than that.’ Although her retort amused him, her smile faded. ‘I was very sad to learn of the death of your father. I am so sorry for your loss.’ Hudan bowed her head to quell her grief. ‘Brother Fa was a dear and treasured friend, and a compassionate and wise leader of men.’

  ‘I hope that some day you will consider me in the same terms,’ Song said, accepting her condolences with a gentle smile.

  Hudan nodded once, her smile genuine this time. ‘I must also congratulate you on your engagement. I wish you every happiness.’

  ‘I thank you,’ he accepted, not keen to dwell on the subject. ‘But nothing would make me happier than to see you tomorrow.’

  The look of challenge on Hudan’s face told him he did not need to elaborate on that comment, but he felt he would anyway.

  ‘Would you not be honoured to be my goddess?’ the young king asked. He wondered how well she could mask the feelings for his uncle that she was not permitted to have.

  ‘Majesty?’ Fen cautioned. ‘My brother is not your subject, do not presume to treat her as such.’