The Way of the Tigress 1-4

by Jade Lee - The Way of the Tigress 1-4

  The General stared at him, his expression pensive. Then he began to nod. It was the tiniest dip of his chin, but it was enough for relief to flood into Kui Yu's heart. Until the General spoke.

  "Do you think my son an idiot?"

  "What?"

  "Do you think him weak in mind or spirit?"

  Kui Yu thought back to the troubled man who had graced his home for so short a time. "He is a Shaolin monk. Why would he be weak in any such manner?"

  "Many called him brilliant. He is the hope of the Empire."

  "Of course."

  "Until he met your wife. Until she bespelled him as she has done you." The General leaned forward. "How long did this Ly-dee-ah study with her? How is the magic cast?"

  Kui Yu barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "There was no training. She was sick and mute. Your son brought her to us!"

  The General was silent long enough for Kui Yu to believe he might have gotten through to him. Then he spoke, his words slow and pensive. "She was hurt when my son brought her to you?"

  "Yes. Her throat had been injured."

  "So, my son found her. And then she trained with your wife?"

  Kui Yu shrugged. "There was some tutelage. Exercises and the like. For strengthening the belly muscles."

  The General shook his head. "No, not for the belly. There is magic in these women."

  The only magic in them was their ability to love fully and with great passion. But the General clearly did not understand that. He was too busy creating elaborate fantasies to explain his son's defection.

  Kang frowned at his dark tea. "Your wife convinces men to do as she bids."

  "Nonsense."

  "You wed her honorably though she was a whore."

  "She was no whore!" Kui Yu said again, though he knew it was useless. The General had already decided. And he believed that sorcery was involved. Odd, that the man had not appeared especially superstitious before. But then, every Han Chinese believed in omens, goddesses and magicians. Why wouldn't a Manchurian believe in sorcerers? "General Kang, on my sons' lives, I swear to you: there is no special magic."

  "So you would have me believe."

  "It is the truth."

  The man leaned back in his chair and belched loudly. Then he smiled at Kui Yu. "I will see this ability to control men. I will see your woman's power with my own eyes."

  "But there is no power!" Kui Yu cried again.

  "You are besotted and therefore would not know." He smiled genially down at his prisoner. "But my son would have seen it. He must have found this white woman and tricked Shi Po into revealing her secrets."

  "That is absurd."

  "And then he ran from you for fear of reprisal."

  "He ran from you, General."

  "And then my son went to show his power to the Emperor as any good son of China would do. But he was stopped by the Empress Dowager. In danger of his life."

  Kui Yu leaned forward, desperate to find a way to reach the General. "But if he had this great power, wouldn't he have used it to escape?"

  Kang smiled, and his entire face lightened with the change. "He did. How else could he have gotten an island to himself with the Dowager Empress's own men protecting him?"

  "You are completely mad," Kui Yu said softly.

  The General shook his head. "I will see this great power. I will see my son wield it."

  "How would this power be demonstrated? How—"

  "That is for my son to say." General Kang pushed to his feet. "I will go to Hong Kong, and you will come with me. We will see this power in action."

  "Or?" Kui Yu prompted, his heart in his throat.

  "Or?" Kang responded with a slight lilt to his voice. "Or I will know that my son has lost his mind to a white witch."

  Kui Yu stared. "And if that is what you believe?"

  "Then he will die. As will the witch." The General's eyes narrowed, and he glared at Kui Yu. "As will you and your witch wife."

  "You would kill your own son?" Kui Yu asked.

  Kang nodded. "The taint would be too deep. I would never know if he acted in honesty or if he still lingered under some spell." He straightened and adjusted his armor, heading for the door. "If he is not in control of this power, then he will die. As will you. And then I shall begin again with your sons. They appear to be bright, filial sons, and I am yet young enough to train them."

  Kui Yu could barely breathe through the constriction in his throat. "But they are Han boys. You cannot believe that—"

  "I can, and I do. They will follow my direction or die."

  Kui Yu straightened to his full height in desperate challenge. "Must you think so much of killing? Your son, my wife—what devastation you surround yourself with! All to win?"

  Kang reared back, his revulsion clear. "You think I play a game? You think I am casual about destroying my own flesh and blood?" He stepped forward, his wide girth equaling Kui Yu's height. "You are a Han fool to speak of family and blood as a game. I fight for all of China, for a defense against the white disease that has captured even my own heir!"

  The General shook his head, sad. "If your arm is diseased, though it pains you to the depths of your soul, you must cut it off or die. In the same way, China cannot allow these foreign devils dominion." Then he turned his back on Kui Yu. "Whatever magic these women wield will be turned to the benefit of China, or they will die." His hand found the door as he spoke, his knuckles white with the force of his passion. "And all who have been touched by their evil will die as well. That is what happens in a war." He nodded, obviously satisfied with his decision. "We leave tomorrow morning."

  Kui Yu rushed forward. "You cannot simply exchange my sons for yours. You cannot wield men or women like swords. You cannot—"

  "You are right," the General interrupted, and his face tightened into a frown. "Your sons are equally tainted." He sighed. "Very well. I will find others. Yours will die with you."

  And with that, he drew open the door. It was with some shock that he nearly stumbled over his wife. Mrs. Kang stood in the doorway, obviously listening, obviously horrified. She knew her husband was mad, and she knew his plans. But if Kui Yu had thought to find aid from her, he was doomed. At one growl from General Kang, the woman dropped her head, put her hands together in prayer and backed away, bowing with each step.

  Kui Yu stood alone in the ashes of his disaster. How had he started with the idea of allowing Kang to feel victorious and ended with a challenge to prove a white woman's mystical power? How had he gone from "we are worms at your feet, please kick us aside," to "yes, I will prove this power or see my entire family slaughtered"?

  What had happened? And how could the situation be salvaged?

  He didn't know, and he sank to his knees in despair at all he had wrought. And into his darkness came a woman. Mrs. Kang dropped to her knees before him, offering him more of her Manchu tea.

  "Why did you come here?" she rasped, pushing the teacup into his hands. "Better to have died in birth than to ever see this day."

  Kui Yu cradled her teacup but did not drink. Instead, he wearily pushed to his feet. He needed to find his wife. He needed to talk to her.

  Then he stopped, his body frozen. The magnitude of that ridiculous thought was shocking. He was searching out his wife's advice? When had her lost and searching spirit begun to make sense to him, especially so much so that other women seemed like noise? He didn't know. But he suddenly realized he loved her. Not in the way of his youth. Not with sweetened idealism or the passion of his dragon. But in the simple fact that he understood her most of the time. And when he didn't, he still cherished her hopes, desires, and methods.

  He shook his head. This all made no sense, but feelings were not the province of logic. Emotions lent themselves to poetry and song, and he had no time for that now. His sons' lives were at stake; he needed a solution. Which meant he needed to talk to his wife.

  With a sympathetic smile, he returned the tea to Mrs. Kang and left. There were no soldiers to escor
t him back to his room, but servants were on hand to point the way. And eyes watched his every move.

  At the bedroom, he felt a great relief in the simple act of closing the door. Until he noticed the room was empty. Where was his wife?

  * * *

  Shi Po had no idea what Kui Yu intended, but to demand to speak in private with their captor suggested a plan of sorts. Excellent. That gave her hope and the distraction she needed. She followed Jiao Long and Shen Zhan to their room, doing her best to ignore the soldiers surrounding them. She was given scant time to speak with the boys, only enough to reassure herself again that they were well, and to repeat to them that all would be fine. Then she told the boys to stay in their room. Try to rest, she suggested. Recite Confucian quotes back and forth. Whatever it took to amuse themselves, but they should not leave their room.

  Then she was escorted out. None of the soldiers accompanied her further; they simply led her from the room and took positions on either side of the boys' doorway. In other words, it appeared she was allowed to do what she willed in Kang's home, but her sons would stay under guard. It was assumed that neither Shi Po nor Kui Yu would do anything to endanger their offspring.

  Shi Po nodded to the guards, wearing the wretched expression any good mother would. It wasn't hard to don. Indeed, she did feel miserable. But she also felt the quiet peace of resolve. She had a plan, and she would see it executed with all possible dispatch. She went in search of Kang's Han mistress.

  She found He Yun easily enough; all she had to do was follow the sound of sobbing. Mother and daughter were pretending to play with dolls, but in truth the daughter was crying and the mother was watching in silent misery. A single doll was extended in hope of diverting the girl, as if a porcelain toy could relieve the ache that traveled up her legs and penetrated deep into the girl's spirit. Sometimes Shi Po thought all Chinese girls became permanently damaged the moment a mother folded her toes tight to her sole. But then she remembered the truth, and knew that there were much more hurtful things than bound feet.

  But not many.

  "Mistress Wu He Yun," she said to the concubine, in all possible formality. "I have a great need to speak with someone. Could you assist me, please?"

  "Of course," the woman answered, and relief showed on her face. "You wish to tell me your Tigress secrets?"

  "I will teach you all of them," she promised. "But first..." She scanned the room. There had been no servants in this area of the compound before, but she couldn't be sure. "Are we alone?"

  "Mrs. Kang does not send maids to assist me," He Yun replied.

  No, Mrs. Kang wouldn't. "Perhaps we could go to the stillroom," Shi Po suggested. "I will show you more herbs for your daughter." And they could speak quietly as they went.

  He Yun rose to her feet, swaying elegantly as she moved. Without even missing a stride, she swooped down and lifted up her child, who immediately burrowed her face in her mother's neck.

  Shi Po was hit by a sudden wave of wistfulness. She remembered those days: the feel of a child's nose against your skin, little arms tight about your neck. It mattered not how old you were, some memories never faded, some feelings were never forgotten. She swallowed. She would do anything in her power to save her sons. Anything at all.

  "What are your secrets?" He Yun asked, her voice eager as they walked.

  Shi Po grabbed hold of her arm, halting their progress in an empty hallway. "Mrs. Kang teeters on the edge of a great chasm. It will not be safe for you here should she fall."

  He Yun lowered her eyes, and her body became stone.

  "You already knew this," Shi Po realized.

  The mistress lifted her eyes, and terror shimmered in their dark depths. "What do you know? And how?"

  Shi Po bit her lip. In truth, she knew absolutely nothing except that no woman could live in a household like this without darkness tainting her spirit. But it served her purposes to have He Yun afraid, and so she created the lie. "I must know what the General plans," she said. "What will he do if I die."

  He Yun shook her head. "No. Tell me first—"

  "I can help you escape."

  A moment passed before hope flared in the woman's eyes. But then it was quickly crushed beneath a hard glare. "What can I do with the General here and a young child in my arms?"

  "You can go to Shanghai. To my friends there. They will help you."

  He Yun curled her lip in a sneer. "Do you think I am stupid? If you could escape, you would already be gone."

  Shi Po barely held her temper. There was so little time. "I cannot escape," she snapped. "They are watching me. All the attention is fixed on me and my family. But no one looks at you." She touched the woman's arm. "Do they expect you to flee? When was the last time you attempted to escape?"

  He Yun's gaze dropped to her daughter. "Not since before I became pregnant. They know a woman with a mixed-race child would have nowhere to go." She lifted her chin, her face and attitude hardening further. "I am safer here. There is nothing out there—"

  "You can go to Shanghai. To Little Pearl, at the Tan household. Tell her everything. She will help you and your child."

  "Why?" He Yun demanded. "Why would she help me? Why would you?"

  Because Shi Po needed the chaos generated by an escape, but she didn't say that. Instead, she gripped He Yun's arm. "Tell me what the General will do if he finds me dead. Will he release my family?"

  The woman's eyes grew large. "He believes us all whores, and so he forces us—"

  "Yes, yes," Shi Po interrupted. "But what will he do if I prove myself honorable? If I kill myself rather than accept his attention? Will he release my family?"

  He Yun shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe." She gripped Shi Po's arm. "But they are certainly dead if you stay here. He will use them to force you."

  "But will he kill them?"

  "Yes."

  "You are certain? With no doubt? You are—"

  "He has done it four times now. He holds out hope, but there is none. He pretends, but his interest is fixed upon you."

  Shi Po bit her lip. "What if I gave in to him?"

  He Yun shook her head. "I gave in to him. As did the two before me and the one here before you." She gripped her child tight to her chest. "He uses your husband and your children—"

  "Then an honorable death is the only hope?"

  He Yun nodded. "They are of no use to him without you."

  So it was decided. Shi Po's course was set. She touched He Yun's elbow, and they began walking again; though by necessity, their steps were small and light. And silent. "Take what jewels you have and flee. Today, while the General is occupied with us, and while his wife is busy serving him."

  "And you?" He Yun asked. Her voice was stronger with resolve, but her eyes remained wide and her hands clutched her child's clothing with white knuckles.

  For one moment, Shi Po allowed her fears and grief to show. Then, horrified by her weakness, she stopped herself and carefully blanked her face. "My path is set," she said, and was pleased that her voice did not quaver.

  He Yun stared for a long moment at Shi Po. "You will be honored as a faithful wife and an excellent mother," she said.

  Shi Po paused. She knew it was true, could see the reverence in He Yun's attitude and stance. It suffused her entire body. Indeed, even the child Wen Ai quieted long enough to gaze at Shi Po with large, fathomless eyes. Shi Po would be revered. Assuming her sons escaped Kang's clutches, they would be free of any poisonous gossip attached to her. After all, suicide was the great Chinese redeemer. It was the only way, at this point, to save her sons.

  And yet... Shi Po slowed her steps until she stopped completely. And yet...

  "There is poison in the stillroom," He Yun said.

  Shi Po nodded. She had seen it.

  "Or there is rope. In the garden shed."

  Again, Shi Po nodded.

  He Yun touched fingers to the back of Shi Po's hand. "Be strong. Honor must be earned." Then she pulled back as she resettled her
arms around her child. "I will carry the tale of your glory to your friend."

  Shi Po nodded. Her thoughts whirled, taking up less and less space in her spirit. It was as though she were shrinking into herself, and yet all parts of her were still there, whole, but kicked into a great frenzy. Would she not soon explode?

  To distract herself, she quickly told He Yun what was necessary to find Little Pearl in Shanghai; whom she could trust, where she could stay in secret. All these things she said, only to be startled when she finished, for there was no more to say and only one thing left to be done.

  "Be strong, big sister," He Yun said, using a familiar term to show friendship. And solidarity. They shared strength and belief in a glorious end.

  Rather than confess her waffling thoughts, Shi Po quickly turned He Yun around. "I know where the stillroom is. I know the poison. I am content. Now you must go." When the mistress hesitated, Shi Po pushed her. "Go!" she ordered. Then, on impulse, she added one last instruction: "Unbind her feet. She will need to run!" Then she watched mother and child scurry away.

  Then they were gone, hopefully to be safe. But now came Shi Po's part, to her only means of ensuring her sons' lives.

  And she couldn't do it. She couldn't force herself to gather the poison, to mix it into a drink and end her life. She just couldn't, because she didn't want to die. And what a strange thought that was.

  She had been all too ready to embrace an end a few weeks ago. She'd been intent upon immortality, no matter what the cost. Now that she had an even more compelling reason to act, she'd abruptly discovered that she didn't want to die.

  She tried to force herself to go to the stillroom to gather the poison, to have it on hand just in case. Perhaps she would change her mind. Perhaps she would realize that there was no more hope, that Kui Yu's plan had failed. That the only prayer for their release would be in her death. Then she would take the poison.

  But she still couldn't make her feet move.

  How long had she lived with the dream of suicide? How many stories had she been taught of the glory and honor to be found in such a death? She had been fed them with her first bowl of rice. She had been taught this end as an excellent option from the cradle. And yet, suddenly, she realized she did not believe in the happiness of such a possibility. She wanted to live more than she wanted any honor of dying. She wanted to stay with her husband, to love her children, even to struggle daily for a way to survive, so long as they were all together.