The Concubine's Daughter

by null

  Li was prepared. She indicated a chair, her tone deliberately calm and free of challenge. “Please, Ah-Ho, sit with me and take tea. It is time for us to talk, before—”

  Ah-Ho cut Li short with a dismissive wave of her hand, closing her eyes and jutting out her chin as though the one before her were not there. “We have nothing to talk about that is not already known, but I come with a warning that you must heed.”

  “Then please summon the Fish. I would have a witness to what it is you have to say.”

  Ah-Ho laughed harshly. “You think she is not already listening, as she does to everything that is said among those of us who earn our silver?” Raising her voice, she called out mockingly, “Old dog bones, do you hear? I know you stand outside this door. Come and join us. We must not keep our mistress waiting.”

  Ah-Ho pretended to bow as the Fish entered the room to stand to one side of her mistress. Ah-Ho leveled an accusing finger at her. “You will say nothing in my presence; you will do as you always do and listen to things that are not your business.”

  She turned back to Li, but the Fish stepped between them, her small frame straight and held with dignity. “You may speak to me as a dog without a home, because I do not hear you. You grow fat on the work of others and take from them to fill your pockets, but you will not speak of threats to my mistress—”

  Ah-Ho’s fury hissed through clenched teeth. “I do not hear the whimpering of an old Tanka bitch—”

  Li quickly took the Fish by the arm, urging her to say no more. Ah-Ho turned back to Li. “Do you truly think that because you are taught to speak the words of the gwai-lo by the backside of a baboon, you are superior to those who have served Di-Fo-Lo for years?”

  The head amah made a show of composing herself, drawing a deep, shuddering breath and folding her arms. “Do you think you are the only one who listens to the witness of others, as you rely on the word of old dog bones—that I do not know that you have humiliated Elder Sister Ah-Jeh, the benevolent superintendent of Ten Willows, and squeezed the merchant Ming-Chou? That you have used your powers and your treachery to enrich those unfit for his service?”

  Ah-Ho stepped closer to Li, leaning forward with a snarl of satisfaction. “You would turn upon your own father, leaving him a broken man.” She straightened, placing her closed fists upon her hips, her eyes withering in their scorn. “You have turned the head of a contented master and made him blind to your witchcraft. He showers you with gold and jewels, gives you privileges others have worked a lifetime for and will never enjoy, allows you to pick their brains, and gives you power over those who have been faithful to him.”

  Ah-Ho stopped abruptly, fired by her emotion yet drained by its force. “This grand palace with its emperor’s garden, these treasures that surround you, even a shrine to spirits that have no place in it …” She spat at Li’s feet. “I piss on your shrine; it is nothing but a place for dogs to shit.”

  Li too found anger burning within. “If you will not hear the truth from me, or give me the respect of your attention as I have given mine, you leave nothing now for me but to ask you to repeat these accusations to the master. We shall let him decide who speaks truth and who listens to the fairy tales of those who would bring trouble to his house.”

  Ah-Ho’s solid body shook with a fury beyond her control. “Now you carry his demon brat, and once it is born he is lost to you forever. Bear him a child and both are doomed.” Ah-Ho advanced until her face was close to Li’s.

  “Leave this place while you can. Return to the house of your father where you belong. Beg his forgiveness and use what you have learned to benefit those who deserve your help.” She straightened up with a snort of mockery. “If he will not have you, then return to the gang of idiots you so enjoy and share your gains with them.”

  Ah-Ho released a long, whistling breath. “You will not do to me what you have done to others. If I leave this house because of you, then you may truly fear me. A curse will come upon you and your whelp that even your lunatic mother could not bring forth. If you truly honor Di-Fo-Lo, it is you who will leave this house, not I. Consider this … run to Di-Fo-Lo with your whining and you will pay more dearly than you can begin to imagine. As long as you know where I am, you need fear nothing but your own thoughts. If I am cast out, then you need fear me.”

  As Ah-Ho turned to leave, Li fought to control her answer. Every wound she thought had healed opened within her; every cut of the willow, every sneer and insult, every filthy hand that had mauled her returned with overwhelming force.

  “You disappoint me, Ah-Ho. You are a fool as well as a liar. I have dealt with overfed fools before, so please, do not think I am afraid of you. I will give you one more day and one more night to think upon this. Until then I will say nothing to the master. Look upon me as what you see, not what you have heard. If you cannot see the truth, then you leave me with no choice.”

  At dawn the following day, Li rose while Ben still slept, the marble terrace softly touched by the coming of first light. She descended the steps to the temple courtyard, the dank scent of marigolds strong among pockets of garden mist that stirred at her passing. Carrying a small gourd of rice wine, a bundle of incense, and fresh flowers, their petals barely opened, she reached in her pocket for the key to the shrine, her fingers suddenly lifeless as it dropped upon the flagstones. There was blood on the threshold; above it, hung from a string of copper bells, was the freshly severed foot of a fox.

  Backing away from the gruesome talisman, Li hastened to awaken Ben, unable to put her horror into words. She led him hurriedly back to the temple, to find the fox paw gone and no trace of blood upon the flagstones. He at first insisted on calling Dr. McCallum, begging her to lie down, clearly concerned for her state of mind. Only the speed with which she regained her composure convinced him that he needed to hear what she had to say.

  “If you have ever truly placed your trust in me, I ask for that trust now. Never will it be so greatly tested.” They were seated at the round table in the pavilion, where nothing could be overheard. “I have asked the Fish to attend this conversation because she has witnessed all that has been said and done and has advised me many times to inform you.”

  It took almost three hours to unspool the story of sau-hai and its influence on Ah-Ho, the veiled hostility toward Li and the open challenge so recently exchanged. She left much of this to the Fish, certain that Ben would know she was not easily deceived by her own people and had no other interest at heart than her loyalty to them both. As he listened to every threat and insult, the muscles in his jaw tightened and he was forced to look away, staring out to sea while absorbing every word.

  Hamish McCallum took Li to his surgery in the Central District for tests and then to his club for lunch. When she returned, Ah-Ho and her closest followers were gone.

  Ben said little of his parting with Ah-Ho, only that she had spoken strongly and scornfully in her defense. She knew nothing of a fox paw, she claimed, only that the tai-tai must be tired. Such visions were not unusual in one so young and heavy with her first child.

  “That she lied to my face, thought me such a fool, disgusts me. I dismissed her without New Year considerations and no lai-see. She howled over that.” He allowed himself a wry grin. “I am afraid my ancestors are in for a rough time.

  “I will have the office find replacements; please do not let this disturb you any longer.” He took her in his arms. “I am deeply sorry to have been so blind … you should have told me sooner.”

  Li’s heart ached for his disillusionment. “Many times the Fish advised me to … it was something I thought that I could manage.” She searched his face for its carefree smile, dismayed to have brought this trouble to him. “Believe me, I did nothing to provoke such things and tried everything to prevent them.” His smile broke through, as it always did.

  “Must we hurry in finding others?” she went on. “We have no need of so many servants … the Fish is everything to me. The wife of Ah-Kin is an excellent cook and
his son a good houseboy. There is only one other I would trust completely. Her name is Ah-Su, Number-Three Wife in my father’s house but unhappy there. She showed me kindness when all about me was despair. If you agree, I will write to her, but there is no need to hurry. Let us receive the New Year together, in our own way. If you will allow me, I will choose the time and find those we may need in this new year.”

  He bent to kiss her forehead, his arms reluctant to let her go. “You are the head of this household, not I. It shall be exactly as you wish. Find what staff you will when you feel they are needed and not a moment before. Until then we shall manage splendidly.” He released her, his hands still resting on her shoulders.

  “Let us put this unhappiness behind us … promise me that now you will rest.” His voice was comforting, but Li could see the shadow behind his smile.

  For the next week, they settled into simple contentment, only to be startled by a telephone call from Indie Da Silva on New Year’s Eve. Some larn-jai had started a fire in the Macao shipyard, and Indie had been wounded by a knife thrust. Though Indie made little of this, saying that the injury was slight and that the fire was under control, Ben knew that his partner would make little of it even if faced with certain death. Li urged him to go and see for himself. Leaving her in the care of the Fish, he took the pinnace and headed for Macao at full throttle.

  It was a hot night and Li lay unable to sleep after the Fish had gone to bed, her fears renewed by the emergency. Although he had said nothing of it, she knew that Ben had been concerned enough to hire a security guard to patrol the walls at night with a pair of Alsatians. The windows of her bedroom were thrown wide to catch any breeze off the sea. The security grills were kept locked, so there had been no need to check them. A thin moon dusted the gardens but shed little light through shifting veils of gossamer cloud.

  She neither saw nor heard the barefoot intruder rising like a shadow beside her bed. A hand clamped hard over her mouth, hard, cruel, and tasting of sour sweat. She could not see the face that loomed over her as the hand put its iron pressure on the points of her jaw, forcing it open and preventing any sound from escaping her.

  “Kung Hai Fat Choy—Happy New Year, Beautiful One … or is it the little Crabapple? Which is it to be, the sweet or the sour?”

  Instinctively, Li’s hand slid beneath the pillow to raise the hair knife in a flashing arch. She felt the razor sharp tip of its curved blade slice into solid flesh before her wrist was clamped in a grip that robbed it of all strength.

  “The claw of the bear … I was warned but did not listen,” the voice mused with a growl, as her hand was twisted until the hook of steel dropped from her fingers. A thumb wiped away the blood welling from the gash in his flesh. As if in the blackest of dreams, she noticed the nail was thick as horn, rimmed with grime, grown long and uncut.

  “But this is not the claw of a black bear … it is the scratch of an alley cat.” With the ball of his thumb, he smeared blood deliberately, almost playfully, across her forehead and slowly down her cheek, his voice mocking her. “I am not afraid of fox fairies. I have danced with all demons and know their music well.” The power shifted to a point in her throat that blocked the flow of her chi, draining all movement yet leaving her fully conscious. A filthy rag was crammed into her mouth, another tied tightly around her jaw to keep it in place. Her wrists and ankles were securely bound.

  The bloodied thumb pressed down on a point in the center of her forehead, releasing the inner force that had paralyzed her. The figure straightened, turning its head to reflect the pallid light. Li was jolted into a gasp of horror by the face looking down at her—a hideous melding of scar tissue that stretched from one mangled eye to the grizzled nub of an ear, and down the shining cheekbone to contort half the mouth. Crude surgery had lifted the upper lip in a permanent leer to expose crooked teeth. The puckered skin extended down the thick neck, over one shoulder, and across the naked chest. Blood flowed freely from the flesh wound slashed across his chest. It was the face in the photograph she had seen behind Ben’s desk.

  She turned away from his burning eyes, but the powerful hand clamped her jaw, forcing her to look at him, his face now inches from hers. “I want you awake and to see me and hear me … I will look into the eyes of the famous Lee Sheeah, the Beautiful One, while she is still a pleasure to gaze upon.”

  He stroked her hair gently from her forehead, strand by strand. “You see me, little tai-tai? I am Chiang-Wah. This was once the proud face of a dai-lo, high in the ranks of the Yellow Dragon brotherhood, wearer of the golden sash.”

  The terrible wounds had caused a sibilance in his speech, saliva spitting with each tortured word forced from deep within. “The gwai-lo who spreads your legs did this to me. Now I have no face to show and all pride has fallen from me, but I have come as I said I would, to take that which is Di-Fo-Lo’s greatest prize. I gave a warning, but he did not believe me. He should have sent you away with the gwai-paw teacher, far away where I could not find you.”

  Chiang-Wah bent ever closer, his mouth twisted in a sneer of triumph. The roughened touch of his thumb continued to trace the contours of her face … across the flickering lids of her eyes, the bridge of her nose, to her lips where they lingered, probing their softness. “The dragon head is weak. He does not honor the oath of his father. It is left to me, Chiang-Wah the Fierce, to fulfill the word of the Yellow Dragon and restore the honor of the brotherhood.”

  He leaned closer, his breath foul to her laboring nostrils. His thumb moved slowly down, over the contours of her throat to her breast, pinching the dormant nipple with such force her head was jerked from the pillow. “That you chose a foreign devil before a man of your own people … You think yourself a tai-tai… but I see you as farmer’s slut, not fit for feeding silkworms.”

  His hand dived suddenly to her crotch, his fingers ramming inside her with a force that made her body arch with pain. “Well, I will show you how one of your countrymen takes his pleasure, and you may be the judge.” Li-Xia fought for oblivion as Chiang-Wah violated her. All sense of time, of place, of feeling seemed transferred to another body than her own. Only when he gave a strangled cry and was quiet for a moment did she return to herself and find him looming over her. She was beyond all fear but for her unborn child.

  “Tell Di-Fo-Lo that I have found more pleasure in Red Lantern Street for less than the silver dollar he paid you.” He sensed her terror and spoke almost soothingly. “I have been careful not to dig too deep. We must not harm the child: I want it safely born. To take a life before it is begun would be of no value.”

  Chiang-Wah produced a small porcelain snuff bottle, the kind easily found in the market. It was pretty, delicately painted with tiny chrysanthemums. “Now I will take from him that which he has taken from me … my face. I will spare you an eye as I have been spared, so that you may see each day the face that Di-Fo-Lo has given you. So that you can see your child, and the look in its eyes each time it sees its pretty mother. I will take from him your beauty, so that he may live with you in endless agony and ugliness, as I have lived in mine. All his money and his power cannot change things. Let us see if he will bed you then. You will suffer until the day you die, and he will live with the joss that he did this to you.”

  He held the tiny bottle over her face, tilting it gradually. “If your child is born, I will not harm it, boy or girl … until it is three years old and is received into the bosom of its ancestors. Then I will find it, and kill it as I would kill a rat. The blood oath of the Yellow Dragon as sworn in the name of Kuan-Kung by the true dragon head, Titan Ching, will be ended.

  “He knows we have unfinished business, the baby-eater and I. Death would be a pleasure to him after he sees what I have done; he will pray for its relief.”

  The Fish would never know what drew her to Li’s room that evening. She had felt more than heard sounds that were not part of the night. She always slept lightly; even the swoop of an owl could wake her. She tapped gently on the door, he
r ear pressed to it. “Are you all right, siu-jeh?” she whispered, then heard a sound she could not recognize—faint as the titter of mice. When she opened the door, it struck her like a blow, a smell so strange she could not be sure of it—the elusive stench of rancid vinegar… .

  Through the heavy curtains of her agony, Li knew that the Fish was at her side; she heard the old woman’s stifled cries as the rag was taken from her face and pulled from her mouth. Li turned her face away into shadow as she spoke through the mists of her unspeakable torment. “Do not switch on the light.” Her words were barely audible. “You must be strong for me. My child is coming. Do whatever you must to save it; I am beyond suffering.”

  The Fish was quick to fetch hot water and towels, the mixture of herbs that dulled her senses. Li used the last of her strength to bring about the birth of her child. When the infant was delivered and wrapped, Li reached blindly for the Fish’s hand and held it tightly. She did not ask to see her baby, only to know whether it was alive and whole, and if it was a girl.

  “It is a beautiful girl, mistress. She is small but perfect in every way. She already has some hair the color of her father’s and eyes that shine like pearls.” Li’s grip tightened, words forced from the failing reserves of her life-force. “You must take her away, far from here. Di-Fo-Lo cannot save her from those sworn to destroy him, and he will die trying. He does not understand the danger I have brought into his life. Take her to your huang-hah, to the lake where the gods once delivered you. Find your cousin the barefoot doctor. Take her to his house where she can grow strong in peace.”

  Li was silent for a moment, seized and held on the rack of pain. When she spoke again, her voice was no more than a rattling breath. The Fish bent closer to hear her.

  “She must learn to read and write; this is more precious than gold. Promise me this.”