The Concubine (10 page)

The ape-man came forward, and his eyes took on a gleam of arrogance. Ji Yue did not like his manner even though he obviously thought he was acting refined. At his gesture, two men came forward with a mediumsize chest. It was placed in the center of the room. Then the ape man crossed to it and with thick fingers he pulled open the lid.

Ji Yue craned her neck forward to see, then gasped in shock. She might be a cloistered virgin, but even she knew the brown powder called opium. It was a deadly drug that had been declared illegal in China nearly a hundred years ago. But even with the emperor’s edict against it, the white were more and more overt in their attempts to addict the entire population to its evil. Her father knew of dozens of court officials who either smoked the drug themselves or profited from its illegal sales. Clearly the Dutch believed Bo Tao equally corrupt. Or they hoped that the new emperor would reverse his great-grandfather’s edict. They were about to learn otherwise.

Bo Tao’s reaction was immediate. He bellowed with rage, and every man in his retinue drew a sword. Ji Yue was hard put not to scream as the Dutch responded in kind. But they were too slow, and obviously Bo Tao had planned for this. Within seconds every foreigner had a blade at his throat.

Bo Tao’s nearest assistant stepped out from his position beside the throne. While Bo Tao sat with regal disdain, his man stomped over to the chest and spat in it. He spoke not a word, but his meaning was clear. Opium was not wanted in China.

Two blades trapped the ape-man, one on either side of his neck. Already a trickle of blood oozed down his throat. The ape-man was purple with rage, but he didn’t dare move. The assistant walked directly in front of the man and raised a long dagger, setting it carefully—point upward—just beneath the bearded chin. A slight push, and the ape-man would be dead.

Apparently the man knew it, too, because he began to babble in Cantonese, pleading for his life and offering all sorts of gold and jewels in trade. Bo Tao’s translator didn’t say a word, not even bothering with a man’s dying words.

Ji Yue barely remembered to keep writing. She knew her calligraphy would be hideous because she could not shift her gaze from the tableau before her.

Then the assistant moved again. With a flick of his wrist—faster than she could see—he cut a mark like a dragon in the ape-man’s cheek. Back on the throne, Bo Tao clapped his hands twice. The sound was so loud that Ji Yue would swear it echoed for minutes afterward.

More eunuchs came in. They poured an oil of some sort on the chest. The stench was so terrible that Ji Yue’s eyes watered, and still the Dutch were held immobile by Chinese swords. In fact, all were frozen in place for a long minute.

Finally, when Ji Yue felt she would go mad from the strain, Bo Tao slowly stood up from the throne. If Ji Yue thought he was magnificent before, it was nothing to the power that radiated from him now. He walked like a furious god! He came down from the dais and moved coldly through the sea of swords. He walked straight up to the man whom Ji Yue had thought was the true leader. He stepped before that man and spoke clearly.

“Hear my words from the Dragon Throne. All who deal in that dung powder will be killed.” He waited as his words went through both translators. He waited and he watched until the Dutch man dipped his head in acknowledgment.

Bo Tao did no more than blink, but suddenly, all the Chinese swords were sheathed. Every soldier stepped back while the Dutch remained awkwardly frozen in the center of the room. Ji Yue heard their shuddering breaths of relief, and yet none of them dared move beyond that. Meanwhile, the chest of opium was lifted by two eunuchs, tossed into the massive fireplace, and set on fire.

The ape-man scowled as the flames burst higher. The oily stench in the air made Ji Yue draw back, and she was pleased that a tapestry shielded her from most of the thick air.

Then the ape-man cursed. Ji Yue could not hear the words clearly for he muttered them, but it was a phrase she recognized. Her old nurse had used it when only the most vulgar of names would do. They were the last words he ever spoke.

Bo Tao whipped around and threw his dagger straight through the ape-man’s thick neck. The man gurgled once, his eyes bulging in shock, then he fell forward, dead.

JiYue pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back her scream. The brush fell from her hand and she pulled back from her peephole. For a time, she did not think she could breathe. Even worse, she could not close her eyes because whenever she did, she saw the point of Bo Tao’s dagger sticking out from the front of the ape-man’s throat. She saw the blood welling and…

JiYue bit her lip. She would not scream. She would perform her duties as a good wife should. She would think of nothing else but her task. She had to record…nothing. Nothing else was said. Bo Tao stomped out of the room, but the soldiers remained. And the foreigners meekly gathered up the corpse and filed away.

Ji Yue waited, watching, while inside she shook like a leaf in a storm. Sometime later—she didn’t even know how long—someone entered her tiny room. She didn’t have the presence of mind to see who it was. But the moment his arms came around her, she turned and pressed her face into Bo Tao’s coat.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I am so sorry. I did not mean for you to see that, but I could not allow such a slight from that man. Fear must be lasting and his had already faded. We are in such danger from their opium, you cannot know what I fear for our country.”

“I know,” she said as she lifted her mouth to his neck. “I know.”

“You were very brave,” he said.

She released a short laugh. “I was safely hidden. You were the man walking among swords.”

“My men are very well trained. There was no danger to me.”

She shook her head, easing away from him to make sure he saw her earnestness. “You are wrong, Sun Bo Tao. There is always danger with those men. They may be frightened now with your swords at their throat, but it will not last long. They will return.”

Bo Tao’s expression turned even more grim. “I know. China will soon be beset on all sides.”

There was nothing she could say to that. He had confirmed her worst fears. But then he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come, come. Let me see what you have recorded.”

“I have not finished,” she said as she reluctantly pulled from his arms. “Mama taught me to write down my impressions after it was all done.”

“Excellent advice,” he said as he scanned her paper. Then his eyes suddenly lit with surprise. “You speak Cantonese?”

She nodded. “Mama was appalled, but I learned it from my nurse.”

“In this, your mother and I disagree. A knowledge of the shippers’ tongue is most valuable. Most valuable indeed!”

Then he sat down at the table to read her notes more directly. She hadn’t noticed until then that he’d lit the candle, so she quickly shut the bamboo shutter.

“Sit, sit,” he said as he gestured to the chair. “Write down your notes as your mama said, and then I have a surprise for you.”

The emperor would applaud his show of strength to the Dutch, but murder was never something Bo Tao would stomach with ease. That JiYue had witnessed his moment of violence disturbed him, but she’d handled it with more aplomb than two of his soldiers. They had to leave early to cast up their stomachs; she had sat quietly and recorded her notes. Looking at the mother now, he understood how the daughter became the amazing woman she was. Her mother would have tolerated nothing less!

But whereas the mother was almost shrewish with her tight words and pursed lips, Ji Yue was sweet-tempered and kind. Those must be the traits she got from her father, who was indeed rather vague in his mannerisms. Even the sons were just as Ji Yue described, the eldest lost in his own thoughts while the youngest missed nothing. But no one in this family could match the mother for power.

Bo Tao ordered food, then sat back and watched the family interact. He drank his tea and listened in silence as Ji Yue related a severely edited version of all that had occurred so far in the contest. They all cheered in delight that she had passed both the physical exam and the family history exam, which meant she had only the artistic display before the final selection. Then, just when he was at his most relaxed, the mother pinned him with her stare.

“This is most lovely, Sun Bo Tao. Our family can never repay such a kindness. But I cannot help but wonder if all the imperial virgins have family visiting. If so, then the Forbidden City must be overrun with happiness today!”

“Today has indeed been a happy day,” he lied. “But no,” he said, answering her unspoken question, “the other virgins have not been so fortunate as your daughter. They rest in the virgins’ palace without the blessed kisses of their mothers.”

Madame Chen’s brows shot high. Or rather, they would have if the woman still possessed eyebrows. “Sweet heaven, we are richly blessed,” she cried. “Has something occurred that we receive such beneficence? Ji Yue, what have you done to be singled out so?”

Ji Yue blushed a bright red. Damn. Such a shrewd woman would see right through any lie.

“It is a trifle, Mama. It appears I have gained the attention of the emperor.”

“Really?” her mother said, hope and surprise at war on her features. “How?”

Bo Tao stepped forward. “A simple matter of translation, Madame Chen. Your daughter speaks the sailors’ dialect of Canton.”

“That terrible nurse!” the woman spat. “Had I known earlier of her background—”

“It is a most fortunate stroke of luck. In thanks, the emperor has allowed you to visit. All the girls miss their mothers.”

“Pah,” the woman said. “She is a grown woman and should be a mother herself.”

“Exactly,” Bo Tao agreed. And then he made his play, praying that the mother would think of more than simple politics. “Unfortunately, of the girls still here, most will never have a child. Most, in fact, will never even see the emperor except at a distance. I would shudder should such a sad fate befall your daughter.”

Madame Chen shrugged. “That is the nature of things in the Forbidden City.” Then she smiled and patted her daughter’s hand. “But if you have already caught the emperor’s eye, you have little to fear.”

Bo Tao cursed silently. This was not going as he planned. He had hoped that the mother would understand what a horrible future was in store for Ji Yue. Clearly, Madame Chen only saw political opportunity. But maybe he could convince Ji Yue. He turned to her, wishing he could be more plain.

“Chen Ji Yue, you are a beautiful, talented flower of China. You have seen the rancor that is part of daily life here. You could return home now with your family—”

“Leave the Forbidden City?” gasped her mother.

Bo Tao glared at the woman. Could she not listen for a moment? Could she not see her daughter’s fate rather than politics and opportunity? He glanced at the husband for help but saw that his eyes had gone vague like his eldest son’s. Bo Tao doubted the man really listened.

“There will be more suitors for you, Chen Ji Yue. Why be one of thirty women when you could be first wife to one man?”

“No!” the mother cried before Ji Yue could speak. “Everyone knows that you came here, my child. We hired weepers! You cannot return home without every man wondering why!” She cast a canny look in his direction. “Why do you suggest such a thing to my daughter? Have you made her unfit somehow? A disgrace to her family which you wish to cover?”

Three curses upon the woman’s head! There was no way to answer that honestly. “Your daughter is an imperial virgin,” he snapped. “I believe she could make an excellent empress, but the dowager consort does not like her.”

“Of course not! No mother wants to lose her place in her son’s eyes.”

Bo Tao grimaced. If only he had more time to explain! But any moment now, someone was going to summon him to the emperor to explain what had happened with the Dutch. He could not tarry much longer.

“You must see, Chen Ji Yue, what lies before you.” He had shown it to her so plainly last night. Did she want to become one of the lowest harem women? “Leave now and I will find some reason. You are with your family. There will be no questions, certainly none that could not be verified by a doctor.”

There it was as plain as he could make it. If she withdrew now, after a suitable period of time, he could begin a formal courtship. He would have to be sure that the emperor bore no ill will. But if Ji Yue became suddenly ill—so ill that she had to be returned to the bosom of her family—then perhaps the emperor would not guess. Or better yet, Yi Zhen might forget one virgin out of so many. There were hundreds of things that occupied an emperor’s attention. It only required that JiYue say yes. Yes, she would willingly withdraw herself from the Forbidden City.

He looked into her eyes. He saw the uncertainty there. Another push and she would fall, he was sure of it. But she wasn’t given the chance. Madame Chen did a little pushing of her own, shoving Bo Tao backward and away from her daughter.

“I know you, Sun Bo Tao,” she hissed. “I know you are not a scholar, you are not a soldier. You are not even rich. You are a friend to the emperor and so he lets you live off his bounty, and you are jealous of whatever he likes.”

“Mama, that’s not true,” Ji Yue inserted, but her mother was not listening.

“The emperor has noticed you, daughter,” she snapped. “And this man wants whatever the emperor has. So he convinces you to go home now so that we will be grateful when he courts you later.” Madame Chen drew herself up to her full height. “We will not be grateful for the likes of you!”

Bo Tao did not answer. Her accusations had the ring of truth. Once, he had lived off his friendship with Yi Zhen, had followed the emperor around for the parties, the food and the women. But endless rounds of princely games grew tedious. He discovered he liked the business of nations, and he grew up. Now he was an integral part of the nation’s government even though he had no official title.

He looked at JiYue, his heart in his eyes. “I have enough to live. And after the festival, Yi Zhen has promised me an appointment with a salary. Enough money to support a wife and—”

“Bah on promises!” Madame Chen gripped her daughter’s arm and spun her around. “Hsst! You are smart, Ji Yue. Use your head.” Madame Chen pointed a bony finger at him. “Beauty fades and grows old. Imperial promises come and go with the wind. You want nothing of this one!”

Ji Yue compressed her lips in annoyance. Bo Tao could tell she did not like having her mother tell her what she wanted. But without her mother’s support, she could not go home.

“Mama, the dowager consort despises me.”

“Because the emperor sees your worth.”

“I do not think—”

“Enough,” interrupted the father.

Bo Tao turned, startled to hear from the man. “Honored sir?” he said with a bow.

“My daughter has caught the emperor’s eye. She will remain an imperial virgin.” He lifted his chin. “There is no room for her at home.” Then he gestured to his sons. “Come, sons, your studies await. You do not want to become a wastrel, dependant upon promises before you can take a wife.” And with that, he waved his daughter a casual farewell and walked away.

His wife fell into step behind her sons. But at the door, she turned to glare at her daughter. “Ji Yue, go! Go to the virgins’ palace and spend no more time with this wastrel!”

Ji Yue did not appear happy with her mother’s advice, but it didn’t matter. Without a home to return to, Ji Yue would remain in the Forbidden City and take her chances among fifty others to become the next empress.

Bo Tao sighed. He could kill a foreigner in the lesser great hall, but he could not win a girl away from her parents’ ambition. “Do as your mother bids,” he said. “I am late to report to the emperor.” He clapped his hands twice very loudly and a pair of eunuchs appeared. “Escort Chen Ji Yue to the virgins’ palace. I am late.”

With a last bow to her mother, who still smirked in the doorway, he turned and left both the Chen women behind.