by Jade Lee
But then the wailing stopped.
The widows’ sobs had been a constant noise, heard, felt, and mostly ignored. Until silence thundered into the room. Anna heard it too, for she stiffened and lifted her head. Zhi-Gang frowned. Something important had happened. Something had stopped the women’s wailing.
Then he heard it; distant pounding of feet as someone ran down the hallway. Zhi-Gang raised his head to hear better. Was that Jing-Li? Bellowing something? Finally, the word filtered through the walls enough to be clear.
“… guns!”
From Anna Marie Thompson’s journal:
February 19,1886
I’m almost sixteen now, and it is time I looked to my future. Most of the orphan girls become nuns, remaining here or in other missions for the rest of their lives. They think it the most holy of vocations and embrace it completely. This, of course, means that they are too ugly or too mean to embrace any man.
Thankfully, I have another choice. Father has shown me another world, another possibility. He says that I have to choose between living for God or living for myself, living for God is glorious and honorable, but it’s not a very fun life. Living for myself doesn’t mean I’m bad. It just means that I’m not holy. Most people chose to live in the world and not bank on Heaven later.
It wasn’t a hard decision. Some of the nuns are nice, but they’re also the meanest people in the world. Just because I don’t want to live for God, they say it makes me ungrateful or bad. But that’s not true. Samuel isn’t bad, and neither are his friends. They’re just people who don’t always believe in what the nuns do. That’s not wrong. It’s just not living for God.
So… I choose the world. I want to live in the world. And that means I need money. Most women get that through their husbands, but I don’t want to marry anyone. Father says I don’t have to. That many women live without a man. They just need money. And he has a way for me to earn lots. He said he’d show me on my sixteenth birthday, and then I can decide.
I’ve already decided. I don’t want to be a nun. I’m going to be with Father. And even better, I’ll get to smoke five grains of opium this time because I’m a year older!
This is going to be the best birthday ever.
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
—Samuel Taylor Coleridge from “Kubla Khan: Or, a Vision in a Dream. A Fragment”
Chapter Twelve
At first Anna could not make out Jing-Li’s bellowed words. His accent was too different from what she was used to. Zhi-Gang abruptly leapt from the bed and began dressing with rushed motions.
“Guns?” he said in a low hiss, more to himself than to her. “Whose guns?” He flashed her a frown. “Get dressed.” She had already left the bed and was grabbing her silk skirt. “Not in that! Something servantlike.”
She looked at the fabric in her hand, then around the room. She had no other clothing.
He must have understood her confusion because he cursed under his breath. “Whatever you can find.” He was nearly dressed. With his undertunic unbuttoned, he strode to the door and hauled it open.
“Who has guns?” he snapped, presumably at Jing-Li, who finally clattered to a stop outside the door.
Anna made quick work of her skirt and shoes, all the while straining to hear.
“White men,” gasped Jing-Li. “Speaking Shanghai dialect. They killed the guards at the gate.”
A shiver of fear skittered down Anna’s back, and her fingers fumbled on the fastenings at her throat. Men from Shanghai? Her father’s men? There were many opium dealers in Shanghai, but few penetrated this deep into China. Just Samuel and one or two others.
“How many?” Zhi-Gang demanded.
“Only five at the front gate, but more surround the house. I have seen four at least.”
No, Anna thought. You have seen boys or clothing around straw. Not real men.
“They have white men guns,” Jing-Li continued. “The First Wife speaks to them now, but they don’t believe the governor is dead.”
“She should show them the body.”
Jing-Li growled something under his breath. “She fears—all the wives fear—they will be raped. They demand that we protect them.”
“Their fool husband brought this on them. This is his Shanghai supplier. Bai probably stole money from them. They all steal eventually.”
True enough, thought Anna. Samuel had once said that was his biggest problem: theft. She shuddered at the memory of exactly what he did to thieves. If Bai had been stealing, then this was a show of strength and retribution. Depending on the extent of the theft, the entire household could be raped, tortured, then burned alive.
“How many?” Zhi-Gang muttered. He abruptly turned so he could face her. “Anna! Find the wives. Tell them to hide the children and to dress as servants…” His voice trailed away as he stared at her.
She would have looked directly at him instead of at the door frame, but she could not seem to move. She was sitting on the bed, her top frog-clasp still unbuttoned. Her body seemed made of stone; she could not move or run or fly. She could not do any of the things that her mind screamed for her to do.
“Anna? What is it?” When she did not answer, he strode forward, grasping her shoulders and shaking her enough that she could look at him. “What do you know?”
She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Nothing. I do not know anything. Not for sure.”
His eyes narrowed, and she struggled for words. She struggled to think. “Did you see them move? The men in the trees around the house. Did you see them move?”
She was still looking at Zhi-Gang, so she saw clearly when his expression tightened with suspicion. “We did not say that they were in trees.”
She nodded, though the motion was jerky. “Did the bodies move? A hand, an arm, anything?”
Jing-Li stepped around the door to glare at her. “That means nothing. If they seek stealth… Warriors are trained to keep still.”
“So are straw dummies pretending to be an army when they are not.” She looked at her hands. “It is a favorite trick of drug-runners. They… we cannot travel through China in large numbers, so when we need a show of strength… “ She shrugged. “There is enough fear of whites that a straw dummy can be just as effective as a real fighter. Or sometimes we hire local boys for a penny or two. Give them a change of clothes and have them sit in the trees.”
Jing-Li frowned and glanced back toward the main house. “I will check.” Then he started to leave, but hesitated long enough to touch Zhi-Gang on the arm. “The First Wife will not be able to hold them off for long.” He glanced back at Anna. “Do you think they will kill her?”
Anna shrugged. Some of her father’s men would; some would not. Opium runners were an unpredictable lot.
“Go,” Zhi-Gang snapped at Jing-Li. “Find out if we are threatened by straw men or children.”
“Look for a cart,” Anna called abruptly. “Real warriors do not need a farmer’s cart to hide their tricks. Find the sharpest eye here and look for grass in the cart.”
“A child,” Zhi-Gang said, as he reached into his pocket. “They spy the best. Find one who can run fast.”
Jing-Li was gone before the last order could fade. Anna had been watching Zhi-Gang the entire time, seeing him shift from tender lover to the Emperor’s Enforcer. She wondered what he planned, though already guessing the answer. She steeled her spine for the sight of his deer-horn knives, for blood and gore and the stone-cold killer that he could become. But what he pulled out of his pocket completely reversed everything she expected.
Glasses. He pulled western glasses out of his tunic pocket and set them on his nose. She blinked, startled. She had seen them before, of course, back on the boat. But she had forgotten he used them.
“You are a scholar,” she said, more to herself than to him.
She thought of him first as the Enforcer—a warrior and a killer. It was startling to see him without his weapons, his spine somewhat stooped, and with wire spectacles perched near the end of his nose.
He grimaced. “This is what I wanted to be.” His tone was grim as he carefully slipped his knives inside his jacket. “But I am something else now.”
The longer he spoke, the more she was able to breathe, to move. To think. “What?” she asked.
“A conman,” he practically growled. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Can you fight?”
“Not like you need,” she replied, feelings of worthless-ness building inside her.
“At least you are strong. And smart.” He glanced at her feet. “And whole.”
“You want me to protect the children,” she said. It was more a statement than a question.
He shook his head. “The wives. Children in a household like this know how to hide. They will disappear and stay silent, protecting one another. It is the wives who are in the most danger. These are beaten women accustomed to abuse. I want you to keep them from being stupid.”
He grabbed hold of her arm and drew her from the room. His grip was not brutal, but it was strong and she had no choice but to follow. She did not mind. Truthfully, she felt safest beside him.
“You will hide behind the women’s screen with… “ He stopped. “Who is the brightest of the wives?”
“First Wife is the strongest, but Two is the canniest. You’ll want Two beside you.”
He shook his head. “I want you, but you are white and hard to explain.”
She didn’t respond, but a lightness filled her body and she quickened her step to stay close to him.
“Watch from the women’s screen with Two,” he continued. Then he frowned at her. “Do you think she will betray us?”
“Not if you bribe her.”
He grimaced. “I will say nothing. You must keep her aligned with us.”
She nodded, considering how. “And the others?”
“Jing-Li will tell them to stay in the women’s room. I will spare one man to defend them. They will have to keep themselves from panicking.”
Anna swallowed, then slowed down. “I will talk to them. They will do better after I can explain what is happening.”
He froze, his eyes hard as he looked down on her. Though his grip did not tighten on her arm, she knew that could change in an instant. “What is happening, Anna?” He spoke with a deceptive calm. She could see that his anger was very close to the surface.
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t! It could be bad luck. If the governor was stealing from his supplier, then this is a show of strength to discipline him.” She took a deep breath. “Or it is about me.”
“You?”
She nodded. “Samuel’s men are looking for me. If they tracked me here…” She shuddered at the thought of what would be in store for her.
He looked at her, his eyes impossibly dark behind his wire glasses. Then he pulled her to him, slowly, inevitably drawing her fully against his body. “I will not give you to them,” he said. “No matter who these people are or what happens. I am not done with you yet.”
She should have been afraid of the darkness in his words, the blackness that stained his soul. But she was not. She wasn’t even dreaming of a way to escape or her next taste of opium. She was thinking of him and his surprise when her lips curved into a smile. “I will stand by you, too,” she vowed. “Just do not let me be taken.”
Color leeched from his face, and his gaze grew distant. She knew for a moment that he thought of someone else. His sister perhaps? She didn’t have time to wonder as he pressed a swift, abrupt kiss to her mouth. “No one shall have you.”
“A fine sentiment,” drawled Jing-Li as he rounded a corner. “But we are four against an army.”
Zhi-Gang spun around to his friend. “The soldiers are real?”
His friend nodded darkly. “And badly hidden. I think we are meant to see them.”
“Then they could be locals—farm boys with no fighting skills.” Zhi-Gang released Anna’s arm. “See to the women, and bring Wife Two to the screen. First Wife—”
“Has already let them in,” interrupted Jing-Li.
Anna did not wait to hear the rest. She ran as fast as she could to the women’s room. She winced as she crossed the threshold, mentally counting the number of people. Wives Two through Five were present, huddled together with their children clutched between their knees. Unlike last night, their tears were real.
“Where are your male servants?” Anna asked, turning to Wife Two. She was the only one not dealing with a sobbing child or fighting tears herself. She seemed grimly resigned, with an anger that was part bitterness, part annoyance.
“Gone,” Second Wife answered with a sneer. “When your husband killed our husband, they ran, fearing for their lives.”
“Cowards,” Anna spat. “You are better off without them. They would not help in a fight anyway.”
Second Wife blinked in surprise. “That is what I have been saying. But what can we do with no protection?”
“You are not unprotected!” Anna snapped, startled by her anger. “My husband and his men will save us.” She had their attention now. Wives and children alike quieted enough to hear her. She lifted her chin and tried to exude a confidence she didn’t feel. “But we must also rely on ourselves.”
Second Wife cursed and spat. “What can we do?” She gestured to her leg and then the room at large. “Lame, pregnant, with babes in our arms—we are doomed.”
Anna took a deep breath, praying that Zhi-Gang would be correct about the children. She turned to them, catching their eyes as best she could. “Can you hide? And be very quiet?”
The eldest boy—a child of about nine—stepped forward. “I am the head of the family. I will not let my mother—”
“You will not endanger your mother or your sisters and brothers,” Anna said with a stern tone. But then she allowed her voice to lower with respect. “Will they listen to you?”
He puffed up with pride. “Of course! I am the oldest.”
“Do not lie, child. All our lives depend on you answering correctly. Do not die from stupidity like your father.”
It was a harsh thing to say to a child, especially one who had just lost his parent. But apparently the child was also smart, and had a realistic view of his parent.
“My father was—”
She didn’t understand the words, but his attitude was clear. Especially as he straightened and gestured to Wife Two. “Mother and First Auntie have taught me better.” He looked at his siblings. “They will listen to what I say.”
Anna glanced at Second Wife. “He can be counted on to protect them?”
Second Wife nodded. “He knows his responsibilities. As does she.” A second child stepped up. A girl, obviously Second Wife’s daughter. She appeared to be the oldest girl child, graceful on her bound feet, and with a spark of honest bravery in her eyes. Better yet, she knew to keep just behind her older brother, where she could be seen as a leader without upsetting his masculine pride.
“Very well,” Anna said. “All our lives depend on the next few hours.” She turned to the boy, but her gaze encompassed all the children. She was excruciatingly aware of the time she was taking with this. Who knew what was going on in the reception room? But the more she gave the wives the impression that someone was in charge—herself and the two oldest children—the more manageable they would be.
She straightened and put as much force as possible into her voice. “The children must hide and stay silent.” She looked at the oldest daughter. Girls tended to be much better than boys at that last part. “You take them and keep them quiet.”
The boy spun on his heel and ordered his sister in a sharp voice, “Pretend father has the ugly ghost on him. Go!”
The girl didn’t respond. She was already herding the younger ones out, whispering instructions in their ears before they dashed away. She paused
to glance back at Anna. “They will stay out of sight,” she said.
“And quiet!” the boy added.
The girl ignored her brother, slipping away with two of the youngest. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. The children were in good hands. Now for the harder part. She turned back to the boy. “You must keep your aunties safe. They are frightened and must rely on your strength. Can you do it?”
“Of course!” he said with haughty pride.
Anna dipped her head in respect for his status: head male of the household. “My husband will send a man to guard the door, but he may be called away. If that happens, you must keep all your aunties very, very quiet. Maybe even help them hide if need be.”
He opened his mouth to give her what would probably be a very masculine response, but she did not let him speak. Instead, she turned abruptly to Second Wife and held out her hand. “You must come with me. My husband needs your help.”
Second Wife’s eyes widened in surprise, but she struggled to her feet. And as they hobbled together to the door, she managed to start interrogating Anna with short insightful questions. “Your husband knows everything now?”
“Yes. Everything,” Anna said with absolute truth.
“Hmph.” Second Wife clearly doubted.
“He will protect us,” Anna pressed, startled to realize she believed. Zhi-Gang—the Emperor’s Enforcer—would keep them all safe.
“Is it your father who attacks?”
Anna didn’t falter. “Yes, I think so.” Actually, she had no idea who it was, but people tended to follow direction better if they believed you understood the situation. And who better understood a man than his own daughter?
Second wife paused at a crossway in the hall, and looked hard at Anna. “Do you trust your husband?” She glanced to the left, in the opposite direction. “There is a good place to hide. Back there. We could say we got lost.”
Anna hesitated for a moment. She did not pause because she doubted, but out of habit. Running and hiding was what she’d always done.
