Dragon Moon (3 page)

Ping had only meant to stay at Beibai Palace until the weather had improved, but somehow more than a year had slipped by. After Ping and Kai had escaped from the Emperor with the help of Princess Yangxin, it had taken the Duke less than a month to discover that there was a dragon hidden in his palace. Ping knew the Duke could be brutal to those who offended him and she was afraid that he would punish the Princess for her concealment. But though he could be stern and short-tempered, he would defend those under his protection with his life, and he understood how privileged he was to have a dragon under his roof.

The Duke wasn’t a greedy man. He didn’t want to sell Kai’s body parts or harvest his blood as others had. He knew that a dragon could bring him good luck. He thanked Yangxin for bringing Kai to his palace and he treated the dragon well. The Duke issued bronze
weapons to his soldiers once he learned that iron hurt dragons. He made sure none of the palace women wore gowns made of five-coloured thread, as dragons didn’t like that type of cloth. He arranged for the cooks to provide Kai with special meals.

The Duke had experienced unusual good fortune since Kai had been a part of his household. Spring had brought good rains to Yan, though the rest of the Empire had had none. The summer crops grew well and autumn had brought a plentiful harvest of wheat, millet and green vegetables. The people of Yan ate well, while many inhabitants of the Empire were hungry.

The Duke’s negotiations with the Xiong Nu had gone smoothly and all bloodshed had ceased. But the best luck of all had happened the previous spring just when Ping was preparing to leave. Princess Yangxin had discovered that she was going to have a child. Still homesick and missing her mother, the Princess had begged Ping to stay until the birth. After all her kindness, Ping couldn’t refuse. And it seemed sensible to give Kai time to grow bigger and stronger before they started their journey.

The Duke was delighted when he heard the news. Though he had six other wives, between them they had only produced two daughters. There had been many miscarriages and stillbirths, and the Duke had accepted that he would never have a son to inherit his lands.

Ping had stayed with the Princess through the
summer and an entire winter. A healthy boy had been born three months earlier. The Duke named his son Yong Hu which meant brave tiger. He was convinced that Kai was responsible for this blessing and pampered the little dragon even more. The other wives were so relieved that the Duke finally had an heir, none of them minded when the Princess was elevated to the position of first wife.

Motherhood had changed Princess Yangxin. Her face was a little fuller than it had been when Ping first met her, her cheeks had more colour, she laughed a lot. The weeping girl who Ping had discovered in a pavilion at Ming Yang Lodge had become a cheerful woman who was happy with her life as wife and mother.

In other parts of the Empire, northern winters were spoken of with dread. It was a common threat that misbehaving servants and argumentative wives would be sent to the north for winter. Terrible tales were told of children snatched by starving tigers and villages discovered in spring with their entire populations frozen to death. Soldiers didn’t want to be sent to garrisons in the north, so they were manned by convicts—thieves and murderers who had been conscripted into the imperial army.

Yet Ping had spent a whole winter at Beibai Palace on the northernmost edge of the Empire—and she had enjoyed every minute.

“In the south of the Empire,” Princess Yangxin had
told her, “when winter arrives, people put on thin coats and tell each other it isn’t really cold.”

The northerners were different. They knew how to prepare well for the cold. They wore winter gowns and coats lined with thick silk floss. Braziers burned in every room of the palace day and night. The stone floors were covered with thick felt rugs purchased from the Xiong Nu. Animal skins kept people warm at night.

No one could leave the palace because of the snow piled a
chang
or more high outside the gates. No farming was possible during winter. The goats, sheep and oxen were housed inside the palace walls. In the past it had often been a time of hunger, but since Kai’s arrival, food had been plentiful. The inhabitants of the palace thought of winter as a holiday from their usual chores. They kept warm by dancing to music performed by the palace musicians, or running races and playing ball games organised by the kitchen staff. The soldiers were unable to go out on manoeuvres, so they learnt acrobatic skills to keep themselves fit. They also held archery contests to improve their bow skills. The whole palace enjoyed watching these activities.

Winter had been a holiday for Ping as well. Her dragon-keeping duties were few as Kai spent most of the winter hibernating. He woke two or three times a month, ate enormous amounts of food and then climbed back into the well. At first she thought that people might object to having a dragon sleeping in their drinking
water, but it was just the opposite. They believed that the water had healing powers and were eager to drink it. As soon as the snow had begun to thaw, people with all sorts of ailments had started arriving from far and wide to drink the ‘dragon water’.

Though dragons could bring good fortune to those who cared for them, Ping knew that the rain had nothing to do with Kai. Rain was more likely to fall near the coast, so she suspected that it was the palace’s closeness to Ocean that had been responsible for the rain. The Duke had had the foresight to have cisterns dug under the palace to store rainwater. So even though the rains hadn’t been plentiful, there was enough water. Ping had tried to explain this to the inhabitants of the palace, but they didn’t want to listen. They preferred to make a fuss of their dragon.

Ping hadn’t been idle at Beibai Palace. The Duke had an excellent library. While the other palace women had spent the winter months embroidering, Ping had passed the dark days reading books. She had learned a great deal about the Empire.

She had spent time with the palace herbalist as well, learning the uses of many herbs. He had taught her which seeds and berries could turn a simple meal into a tasty dish, which flowers and roots could cure illness, and which bark could heal wounds. He had shown her how to combine different herbal ingredients to make medicines and tonics. The piles of petals, fruits and
leaves looked beautiful until they were boiled together and became a foul-smelling brew.

Ping had also improved her control over her
qi
power. Danzi had taught her how to strengthen the spiritual energy within herself by focusing her mind, controlling her breath, and performing slow physical exercises in the golden
qi
-rich light of the morning sun. Once her body was full of
qi
, she had to control it—to concentrate it and send bolts of
qi
power shooting from her fingertips. She had used her
qi
power against a dragon hunter and he had fallen to his death. She had also used it to free herself when she was trapped beneath a huge boulder.

Through the winter, the Duke had allowed her to practise with his soldiers, and she had mastered the art. She could now summon enough power to defend herself against armed attackers. She could knock spears and crossbow bolts aside before they wounded her.

Her second sight, however, was still something she couldn’t control. She could not summon it at will. Instead it came upon her, unannounced, when her dragons were at risk. She hadn’t experienced a single feeling of foreboding in all the months she’d been at Beibai Palace—even when the palace was under attack. But her second sight hadn’t let her down—Kai hadn’t been in any danger.

All the time Ping had been at Beibai Palace, the high walls had made her feel protected and safe. Now she felt confined, like a bird in a cage. It was time to leave Yan.

Ping waited a day before she spoke to Princess Yangxin. She found her playing with Yong Hu who was lying on a tiger skin trying to grab the jade fish that his mother dangled above him.

“I must leave the palace soon,” Ping said.

The Princess’s smile faded. “I don’t see why you need to go anywhere,” she said with a sharp edge to her voice. “You and Kai are safe here. Even when the palace was under attack, Kai didn’t come to any harm. My husband will look after you both.”

“I know,” Ping replied. “But Danzi went to a lot of trouble to get this message to me. I can’t ignore it any longer.”

She had ignored her duty before, choosing the easy path. She couldn’t do that again. If there was one thing Ping knew with certainty, it was that a place of safety could quickly transform into a place of threat and suffering. She didn’t share these thoughts with the Princess.

“The Empress will be arriving soon,” Ping said. “You won’t need me.”

Immediately after the battle, the Duke had sent a squad of men to Chang’an to escort Yangxin’s mother, the Dowager Empress, to visit her new grandson. After his defeat, he didn’t believe the Emperor would object.

“I will always value your friendship,” the Princess said. “No matter how many other people I have around me.”

“We can wait a month or so for the weather to improve,” Ping said. “But then we must depart.”

The morning was only halfway through when Ping received a summons from the Duke. She went to the Peony Hall where the Duke was waiting for her, standing with his arms folded. There were strands of grey in his neatly knotted hair. He was much older than the Princess. When Ping had first seen him, he had seemed stern and humourless, but during her stay at Beibai Palace, he had become a man who smiled often.

He also spent a lot of time in the library. Though his favourite books were about war strategies, he had shown Ping books of poetry that he was fond of.

The Duke wasn’t smiling now. Ping made a polite bow. She didn’t sink to her knees with her forehead to the floor as she had been required to do in the presence of the Emperor. She bent just from the waist.

“Yangxin has told me that you plan to leave us,” he said.

“That’s what I always intended to do, Your Grace.”

“Didn’t you believe me when I promised to protect Kai?”

“I know that you will guard Kai with your life.”

“But you think that I will succumb to temptation and sell him.”

“No, Your Grace. I have complete faith in you. I would love to stay here, but I can’t. Danzi has instructed me to take Kai away.” She made it sound like the old dragon had left her detailed instructions instead of a perplexing message. “I am a Dragonkeeper, I have a duty.” Ping hesitated. “Kai will live for hundreds of years beyond your lifespan, beyond mine. I have to find a safe place for him to live.”

“Where is it you intend to go?” the Duke asked.

“To a secret place.”

The Duke was silent, his mouth clamped shut and his eyes hard. Ping wondered if she was about to experience his more brutal side.

“Will you stop me from leaving, Your Grace?” Ping asked.

The Duke still said nothing. Ping knew she had to stand up to him.

“Your luck will fail if you keep us here against our will, I’m sure of it,” she said bluntly.

The servants moving around the hall stopped what they were doing. The guards stiffened and gripped their weapons, waiting for an order. Her sharp words hung in the air. Everyone’s eyes were on Ping. Had she gone too far? There was a long, uneasy silence until the Duke spoke.

“Do you think you know Heaven’s will?” he snapped.

“I know it’s my destiny to make this journey,” Ping replied.

“There is one sure way to discover what Heaven has in store for us,” the Duke said.

He motioned to one of his captains and whispered something that Ping couldn’t hear. The captain hurried from the hall.

A few minutes later a man entered. He wore the black robes edged with blue and gold that all of the Duke’s advisors wore. In one hand he held a bundle of dried plant stalks all cut to the same length. In the other hand was a bamboo book, its canes dark and shiny from use. He bowed to the Duke. Under his arm were writing implements—calfskin, ink stone and brush.

“This is my seer,” the Duke said.

Ping sighed with relief.

“What is the nature of your enquiry, Your Grace?” the seer asked.

“I want to know if it will be favourable for Ping and the dragon to leave Yan.”

“Then it is Ping who must pose the question, and divide the stalks,” the seer said, bowing again.

The Duke nodded his consent.

The seer knelt at a low table and beckoned Ping to kneel opposite him. The Princess had spoken of this method of divination, but Ping had never seen the process before.

“What is your query?” the seer asked.

Ping glanced at the Duke. “Is it favourable for me to take Kai away from Yan?”

The seer laid the bundle of stalks on the table. “These are 50 stalks from the yarrow plant.”

Ping knew the plant. It was a common, unlovely herb also known as staunchweed because it was good for stopping bleeding.

“Select one stalk and set it aside,” the seer said.

Ping did as he asked.

“Now pick up the 49 stalks and divide them into two bundles,” the seer said. “Use your left hand.”

That was easy for Ping as she was left-handed. She picked up about half the stalks and separated them from the rest with her thumb.

“Place the two bundles on the table and take a single stalk from the bundle on the right and place it between the little finger and the second finger of your left hand.”

Ping followed his instructions, thinking how silly it was to be planning her future with a bunch of weed stalks.

“Now pick up the left-hand bundle, and with your right hand remove them four at a time till four or less are left. Place the remaining stalks between the second and third fingers of your right hand.”

Ping fumbled with the stalks, wishing her right hand wasn’t so clumsy.