by Zoe Marriott
“We should move her to the bed. That’s what the traitor will expect to see when they come in. We’ll hide, let them show themselves, then use the element of surprise to subdue them.”
Lu Wan Hua’s eyebrows went up for a moment as she worked it through in her mind, then she nodded. “That makes sense. You get her legs. I apologize for this, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Me, too,” I said through gritted teeth, bracing my knees as we hefted the emperor between us and lifted her up on to the silken counterpane. She was a slender woman, but her robes alone probably doubled her weight, and she was wearing several pounds’ worth of jewellery, too. My injuries were already protesting all this exertion. The pain sapped my strength.
I slumped against the side of the bed to catch my breath, studying the emperor anxiously. One of her hands twitched, batting at the air, and I realized that her hair – loosened from the elaborate hairstyle I had seen earlier, perhaps in anticipation of going to bed – had fallen over her face and was annoying her. I dared to reach out and brush it back.
Her eyes seemed to sharpen suddenly. “Hua Zhi? Where… No. Wu Jiang?”
“He’s not here, Your Majesty,” I whispered. “I’ll find him for you as soon as this is over.”
“Warn … Wu Jiang … My son.” But her gaze had already slipped away, head lolling sideways on the lush pillows.
“You take the curtain beside the bed,” Lu Wan Hua said. “I’ll hide behind the screen.”
I gave her a grateful look. Concealing myself in the curtain would allow me to lean on the massive carved bedpost. She acknowledged my gratitude with a quick tap on my shoulder, and then we separated again, Lu Wan Hua melting into the shadows behind the screen. She might almost be a banner-breaker herself, I thought as I drew my sword. I realized I’d never actually told her about my gift. I’d simply forgotten.
One last secret to share, then. Later, if we survive this and the emperor doesn’t have us both killed.
In all our urgency to infiltrate the palace, a sense of time spinning away from us had enveloped me. I really expected the traitor to burst in at any moment. But the wait dragged on. And on. Minutes mounted into an hour. Sprawled on the bed behind me, the emperor seemed to slip into an uneasy sleep. Despite my awareness of the intense danger of the situation, the sound of her faint snores made my own lids become heavy.
I was so tired. My bones ached with it. I pressed my forehead into the cool, lacquered side of a carved dragon on the wooden bedpost, and tried to keep my mind alert by mentally running over each individual thread of my shadow face, tracing and manipulating the bruises and cuts I had transferred from my bare skin. When that wasn’t enough to keep me awake, I began to seek patterns on the carved panels of the walls – a face, a dog, a lizard, no – a snake… My blurry gaze fixed insensibly on the tray by the bed. I blinked. Alongside the pancakes and flagon of drugged wine, there lay a spray of white flowers. White chrysanthemums. The flower that symbolized nobility and elegance.
The flower one left as an offering on the altars of dead relatives.
I almost missed the faint noise of a door sliding open. It came from an entirely different direction than the one I had trained myself to listen for. Not several rooms away, at the great golden doors that guarded the entrance to the Dragon Chambers, but close by – in this room. From the wall beside the bed.
By the very bedpost where I stood.
I straightened, fingers tightening on my sword hilt as my eyes found a part of the intricately carved and gilded wall – a part that looked identical to any other – slowly, slowly inching back. A panicked rush of blood made my head pound and my skin tingle. It was a hidden entrance. A secret door.
The panel clicked fully open.
The Young General stepped into the emperor’s bedroom.
Dressed in silk court robes in rich, seasonal colours of bronze and gold, hair smoothly drawn back into a topknot and secured with an intricate ji that glittered with garnets, he looked the picture of a noble scion making a dutiful visit to his aunt. Except for the bared sword held casually in his right hand … and the black-and-gold-painted dagger clutched in the left.
There was no time for shock. For disillusionment or disbelief or confusion. Nothing that had come before mattered. His intentions now could not have been clearer if he had carried a banner marked with them.
Wu Jiang was the traitor. I had to stop him.
I drew my sword and I stepped from behind the curtain. “Don’t come any closer, General.”
Just like that, Wu Jiang’s calm, resolute expression shattered into one of abject horror. He actually swayed where he stood. “What are – no, you can’t be here, Hua Zhilan – you have to leave, now!”
It was not the reaction I had expected. All I could think to say was, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not taking your orders any more.”
It was as if he hadn’t heard me. Instead of backing away he came towards me, gesturing with the dagger as if it were an ink brush or a chopstick. “Quickly. You can leave through this exit – it leads back to my chambers. Wait for me there—”
“Stop!” I raised my sword in clear threat. “Do you honestly imagine I would walk away and allow you to slaughter an innocent woman?”
“She is not innocent!” The furious shout made my muscles tighten like iron wires.
The emperor stirred and let out a soft whimper.
Wu Jiang drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, staring at me. “Why are you here? Why didn’t you go back to the barracks to collect your escort like I told you? You were never meant to be here.”
“I don’t care what you ordered or what you planned,” I snapped. “You are a traitor. The traitor. Nothing you say means anything to me.” My mind was slowly grinding into motion, working to put the pieces together. How could this be? Wu Jiang, the emperor’s nephew, the hero of the army…
My memory went back to that morning and the dark look on his face when his aunt had declared him regent. Back further, to the betraying note that I had brought with me from the Leopard’s desk – the same note that I had entrusted to Wu Jiang, which he had avoided handing over to the emperor by unmasking me. All his protestations of affection that morning – a mere cover.
He was the reason for the Leopard’s elaborate strategy, and why none of it had ever seemed to make sense. Because the plan was not for Feng Shi Chong to ascend to the throne. It was for Wu Jiang to do so.
How had I ever flattered myself that I understood this man?
“Your plan won’t work,” I said. “You may have arranged to slaughter all her leading supporters in the war cabinet and have the emperor name you regent, and you may have pushed the blame for everything on to the Leopard so far, but I won’t let you kill her. This ends now.”
“Everything I have done has been for the good of the empire.” He spoke slowly, as one might address an inattentive child.
“Giving that madman Feng Shi Chong the information and resources he needed to rampage through the empire? That was for our own good?”
“Yes,” he said, eyes deadly earnest. “Of course I regret every single one of the citizens that have been lost – but Feng Shi Chong was already in full revolt when I stepped in. By controlling and manipulating him in the guise of an ally, I prevented dozens of senseless attacks and saved countless lives. And by using him to create this situation, I can ensure that my rise to power is as bloodless as possible. Once I’ve succeeded, he will be easily disposed of, and we will finally have a true and lasting peace.”
Am I really hearing this? “We could have had peace all along if you hadn’t aided him! If you hadn’t been plotting to kill your own aunt and use her son to rise to power under a veil of legitimacy!”
“You don’t understand. She is not innocent,” he repeated, softly this time.
“And what has the rightful emperor done that could possibly justify your actions?” I demanded.
He swallowed, then nodded to himself as if reaching a decision. He
placed the Leopard dagger down gently next to the spray of flowers he had sent to his aunt. I edged closer to the emperor, the small of my back pressing into the edge of the bed, but his free hand only came to rest against his chest, fingers spreading over the cloth as if to soothe an ache there.
“She murdered my mother.”
Even after all that had happened, what I now knew about him, the pain in the simple words affected me. My sword point wavered, dropping out of guard position briefly before I forced it back up. “You said she was poisoned by her enemies at court.”
“Her enemy was Wu Fen.” His eyes stared beyond me, haunted. “My mother was a princess. The old emperor’s favourite sister. When Wu Fen was a mere concubine, she pushed for my mother to marry her brother, my father, to secure the House of Wu’s position. But my mother was too beloved and respected in court. She was too powerful. A rival. Once Wu Fen took the throne for herself, she served her own sister-in-law a cup of poison – and watched her drink it, and die.
“Then she took me. My father had to let me go. He warned me: ‘Don’t cross my sister. Don’t speak up too loud. Don’t try her patience. Don’t be like your mother.’ I always knew that my own life was being held at the knife-point of his compliance to Wu Fen’s will – and his life, and my stepmother’s and siblings’, was being held at the knife-point of mine. I must serve her, and please her, and never give her the faintest doubt of my loyalty. Or the rest of my loved ones would be rotting beside my mother before I had the chance to regret it.”
He looked at me again. His eyes were wet. “We are her family. And she made us hostages. My whole life, she used us against each other.”
He was Wu Jiang, the hero of Black Gorge, the Young General. The golden storybook prince. But he spoke not of fairy tales – but a nightmare. A tortured existence, a half-life spent in constant watchfulness. Never free. Never safe. Always afraid. If it was true… If it was true, what then? My sword point, almost against my will, began to drop back towards the floor.
In that teetering, queasy moment of doubt, Lu Wan Hua struck.
She appeared from the Young General’s left, barely disturbing the tapestry that she had crept behind. Her sword made a technically perfect strike towards his unprotected side – and I opened my mouth to scream a warning, because I could already see that it would not work. He was too fast. Before I could get out a single word, his sword was moving, his body whirling into motion.
Their blades met with an eye-watering shriek of metal, and Lu Wan Hua’s sword flew from her hand. She twisted to avoid the return cut of Wu Jiang’s sword. The movement brought her into range of his left hand. She made a helpless grunt of pain as his fingers seized her flying hair and forced her head down into the upward drive of his knee.
There was a terrible crunch and a bright spurt of scarlet. Lu Wan Hua fell, trailing blood from her nose. The Young General’s sword flicked out to touch the curve of her neck.
It had taken less than two seconds.
“No!” The words finally unclogged from my tongue. “Don’t kill her!”
He tilted his head at me, unruffled. “You know this … this painted whore?”
“She is my friend,” I pleaded.
Lu Wan Hua coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Wu Jiang made a sound of disgust, and placed his foot on her ribs to keep her still. She froze beneath him. Her eyes sought mine, and I stared back helplessly. I remembered exactly how it felt to be in that position. How the Leopard’s foot had ground upon my vulnerable ribs, and I had known I was going to die.
Lu Wan Hua had saved me then. I must save her now.
Think of something. Come on. You’re supposed to be good at plans. Think of something!
“This is not a fitting friend for you,” the Young General was lecturing. “Look at her! Where did you even meet such a creature?”
I wanted to say that she was the current incarnation of his beloved Dou Xianniang, that it was his own ideal that he crushed beneath his foot. But it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t believe it.
He did not know how to tell what he imagined from what was real. He never had.
“She is a person, not a creature – a person who has suffered through your actions. Her home was destroyed and family were murdered by Feng Shi Chong. Just as the people of the bamboo forest were murdered. Do you think she, or they, find it a comfort to know that their lives were ruined in your mother’s name? What about Diao, and Yun?”
I saw the twitch of his shoulders and the words I had been about to say died. I felt my eyes widen, and the change reflect on my shadow face. His jaw clenched in response.
“You. It was you who killed them. Not Lu.”
“Don’t judge too harshly!” he protested. “I simply took advantage of the situation Lu had created. The fool thought he would curry favour with the Leopard by killing me. He never realized I was the one who had been paying him for intelligence.” He leaned forward a little, seeming suddenly eager to explain himself to me.
I flicked a quick glance downward. Lu Wan Hua’s eyes met mine again, and she nodded minutely. Keep him talking.
“But why?” I asked. “Why kill Diao – why – why the attack on the camp—”
“Diao was too loyal to Wu Fen. And the emperor trusted him. She planned to make him the crown prince’s guardian and regent. I couldn’t allow that. But I needed the attack as cover. You saw Wu Fen’s fury over my failure to protect Diao. Without the excuse of having had to fight for my own life, she would have punished me severely.”
My mind simply did not have the capacity to encompass such pragmatic savagery. “So when you came to see me in the stockade … making me fight to convince you that I was innocent, your promise to talk to Diao and not trust Lu … that was all lies. You’d already killed Diao and you knew Lu was a traitor. Why did you even bother to talk to me at all? Why let me out?”
He smiled ruefully. “I liked you. I wanted to test you, see how you would answer me – and I didn’t want you to die in there. From the moment our blades crossed, I could tell you were special. After you killed Lu for me, I admired your loyalty and bravery more than ever. I wanted them on my side, and I wanted to reward you. That was genuine. Everything we’ve felt for each other since then, everything I’ve said to you, has been genuine.”
No, no, no. I couldn’t bear to listen to his attempts to woo me while Lu Wan Hua lay there, bleeding, under his heel.
“How did you know about the hunting party in time to tip off the Leopard? You said the emperor kept everyone in the dark about it until that morning. But you had to have sent that note at least a week in advance.”
“Oh, she’d been planning it for a month – and she doesn’t keep Li Xian in the dark. I gave him a trained message hawk two years ago as a birthday present. He writes me messages constantly, and no one has ever bothered to check what he says.”
There was an image in my mind – the first moment I had seen the Young General, a giant on a rearing horse, burning against the sky … and a tiny hawk diving above him. He must have had his bodyguards deal with the bird whenever it returned to him, knowing that those men would jealously guard the duty, and the knowledge that he was receiving messages, from me.
Wu Jiang went on. “The whole time that Wu Fen had me out there surveying our forces, Li Xian was unwittingly passing on information. I used that information to control Feng Shi Chong. Don’t you see? I’ve tried to arrange everything so that there would be as little bloodshed as possible. And I know that it went wrong, that the Leopard took you and hurt you … and I will spend years apologizing for that if I have to, but I promise I never meant for it to happen. It wouldn’t have happened, if Wu Fen hadn’t been so stubborn that day – she was supposed to pick me to guard her, not send me off with the boy. I’m just relieved that I had given orders for the rebels to take Wu Fen alive or I could have lost you…” His voice actually broke.
“I don’t care about that,” I said, hurriedly trying to redirect him again. “Why—”
I drew in a shuddering breath, my gaze flicking to Lu Wan Hua once more. “You know I can’t.”
Unbelievably, he smiled at me again, that boyish dimple winking. “You can. You can even take your friend with you, if you wish.” He nudged Lu Wan Hua’s side casually. She closed her eyes.
“Hua Zhilan, clear your head of emotion and think. Once Wu Fen is gone and I am emperor, there will be no one to stand in the way of our union. I know it’s more than you probably hoped for, but I mean it. You are everything I had dreamed of in my first wife, my empress. Brave, virtuous, loyal and modest. Together we can bring a new golden age to the Land of Dragons, the rebirth of the Red Emperor and his empress.” His eyes glowed. “Just think of it. All the good we can do – that you could do. Don’t you want that?”
On the bed, the emperor thrashed suddenly, letting out a pained moan. I knew why.
“And what will happen to Li Xian in your golden future, Wu Jiang?” I asked softly. “The boy you have been appointed to guard, to guide on to the throne? That little boy who adores you, and trusts you? What are you planning to do with him?”
Wu Jiang lifted his chin. But he did not answer.
The emperor moaned again, breath catching on a sob. “No. No…”
“I was a little boy when my mother was murdered,” Wu Jiang said evenly. “Almost the exact age that Li Xian is now. And since then I have worked for this day. For this outcome. This moment. For years on end, I have played the fool and the nursemaid, and the doting nephew. Schemed and lied, bribed, killed. All that I have done has been to avenge my mother, and to free this empire from the rule of an unnatural, corrupt woman who should never, ever have been allowed to seize power. My cause is right and just. I care for you more than I have ever cared for any woman, Hua Zhilan. I even admire the moral strength that makes you resist me now. But I will not allow you to stop me. You know that you cannot win against me. So leave. Take this girl here if you want, and go home as you were ordered to. And when I come for you again, all this blood and darkness will be behind us, and we shall begin again in the light.”
