The Pirate Empress (7 page)

Before long, the New Year arrived. Dressed as a boy in fur cap and boots, rather than as Lotus Lily, Li went to the New Years festival in town. Most of the guests were garbed in shades of crimson and scarlet, shouting
guo nian
to each other, and handing out red paper envelopes to encourage ‘the passing of the beast.’ When she was little, Li used to embrace the lion dances while other children ran squealing from the gyrating horned brute that looked not much like a lion at all. It was purported to emerge from the mountains each spring to attack the city and townsfolk. At the time, Li suspected
Nian
was merely a couple of acrobats in costumes and no monster at all, but now she wondered. Was there truth to the tales? Was the creature really afraid of loud noises and the colour red? The horned beast gyrated down the street like a possessed serpent, closed in on her, firecrackers snapping around it. Someone grabbed her shoulders, and jerked her back from the street. Li gasped as she saw that the youth manipulating
Nian
’s head was Lok Yu. Recognizing her as Li, the boy, he deliberately darted the head at her face, then several costumed characters danced about the beastly head, cutting off Lok Yu’s attack.

A hand on her chin sent her eyes upward. Master Yun, who had towed her out of harm’s way, glowered at her. “Be wary,” he said, breath frosting as he spoke. He lowered his tone so that no one else heard. “You are not Lok Yu’s favourite person.”

An understatement, she thought. Li turned back to the street performers and caught Lok Yu’s piercing glare.

“That boy has been chosen to go to Datong, too. You will be living in close quarters with him and hundreds of men. Listen carefully to me, Li. Never, ever let anyone know you are a girl. Not even Quan. The captain may be the only thing between you and the warlord, Esen, but you mustn’t tell him anyway. What he doesn’t know, he can’t let slip. Ignorance of your sex is the only thing that will protect you. My power won’t reach where you are going.”

The Mongols were defeated, the two kingdoms at peace. Why did he worry about Esen? Surely the barbarians grappled against winter, their numbers decimated. An attack on Beijing now would mean certain disaster.

Master Yun looked to the west, before sending his gaze back to her. “I can no longer protect you here. With the wall building, there will be no more battles, and I will weaken while the fox faerie grows strong on the sexual energy of her lords.”

“If you have the power to release the ghosts of the dead, why don’t you do it?” she asked. “Why don’t you destroy Esen once and for all?” When Master Yun failed to answer, Li nodded. “So it’s Esen I should fear. Jasmine told me he wanted me, that he would build me a grand palace.”

“I doubt if that is his intention. Pay no heed to the fox faerie’s promises. For now, your innocence protects you. She cannot touch you until you have given yourself to a man. The future of the Middle Kingdom depends on you.”

For the first time, Li saw what a formidable foe Master Yun could be if crossed. He locked hard eyes on her, lowered his voice. “Already you grow obstinate. Stay anonymous.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Yellow River

While Captain Chi Quan readied his convoy of wall builders to head west, the Emperor sent Lieutenant He Zhu east to Shanhaiguan to evaluate the ramparts leading to the First Pass Under Heaven. It was just as Quan had warned: the walls were eroding, useless because they were built of earth, which made it ridiculously easy for invaders to enter the country. Repairs to the breaches were insufficient, and His Majesty decided the army must construct a whole new wall from the extreme frontiers of the Gobi Desert to the Manchurian border at the Yalu River. The barricade must be made of stout brick, built four thousand miles long, and thirty feet high, lined with solid towers, fortresses with permanent sentinels, and beacons to warn of impending invasions. It must be impregnable. His Majesty appointed Captain Chi Quan to oversee the erection of this monument to his greatness—what future generations would call the Dragon Wall. He had five years to finish it. It must run over the serpentine ridges of the Black Mountains until it reached the very edges of their world.

By the time Lieutenant He Zhu returned from his expedition in the east, winter was almost past. Quan was ready to leave for the border, but first he must take a detour to the Yellow River tributaries near Xian where the clay was rich and building stones abundant. He took half his men on this journey and sent the other half to Datong with He Zhu.

He had plans to join the existing walls built by previous dynasties; to construct a whole new wall in five years was impossible. The most important section to be raised was the stretch just north of Beijing. Once the brick barrier along the nearest border garrisons was solidified, His Majesty would feel safe.

The trek to the Yellow River tributaries would take at least a fortnight. Quan chose the strongest boys and men to accompany him on this journey. He also chose Li, though he wasn’t so brawny as the others. There was something about the lad that intrigued him. Partly it was his impulsiveness and his quickness to speak; partly it was his adeptness at the martial arts. He had made himself noticed the day of Quan’s return from the South Coast Waterworld when he came to the aid of a younger boy, besting a bully twice his weight. Courage, strength and loyalty were good traits in a worker. They were superb qualities in a fighter.

The boy rode close behind on a brown mare. Quan slowed the pace of his stallion, encouraging him to catch up. At times he caught glimpses of what could only be described as something effeminate, but then he recalled how this tall, slim lad had tackled the bully. Funny how he hadn’t noticed how light-skinned he was. His features were small, almost delicate, and if it wasn’t for the hard, determined look on his face, Quan almost thought the boy was a girl.

“So, your name is Li,” Quan said, casting him a sideways glance. “Tell me, who are your parents?”

“They are farmers.”

Like him, many of these boys came from rural backgrounds. The ones that didn’t—like Lok Yu whom Quan had sent to Datong with He Zhu—were from the hereditary army families who were wealthy landowners of the south. Quan had no particular love for Lok Yu, but the bully had been chosen to work on the wall because he was big, mean, and strong.

Li on the other hand—Why had he selected a slim, pale boy who could pass for a girl? Quan steadied his horse and turned to question him. “How long have you been training with Master Yun?”

“Almost two years.”

“How old are you?”

The boy looked at the ground, thrust his head up. “Thirteen.”

No wonder this boy looked like a girl. He had barely reached puberty. Why had Master Yun insisted he take this untried boy? Why had he taken the boy against his better judgement?

“Can you fight?”

“I believe you saw what I can do.”

Quan nodded. “Can you fight with a weapon, I mean. Subduing a bully is one thing, but there may come a time when the Mongols reorganize, gather their forces and attack our garrison while we work.”

“I have been practising with a sabre.”

Quan laughed. Why did he believe this impudent boy? And yet he did. “Are you any good? Can you kill a man?”

The boy turned his head until he looked Quan straight in the eye. “Let’s hope we never have to find out.”

Quan smirked, slapped his horse and raced on ahead. Dust flew. The boy galloped behind, caught up and reined his horse in as Quan slowed to a canter.

“Did I say something to displease you, Captain?” he asked, breathless.

“Your horsemanship is excellent.”

The afternoon waned, and in the distance he spied the muddy stream of one of the Yellow River tributaries that led to Xian.

%%%

“What are you dreaming about, boy? Get off your horse. We’ll make camp here.”

Li shuddered back to the present and stared awkwardly at Captain Chi Quan. “I was thinking about the legend that surrounds that mound in the distance.”

Quan looked toward the great burial mound. “Yes. There are stories, and then there are stories. What were you thinking?”

“What’s really inside that mountain of dirt? Is it true what they say that First Emperor Qin is buried there with treasures untold?”

“Treasures? Who have you been talking to? The only treasures there are the ghosts of dead warriors.”

“But I heard the Emperor was buried with a gold chariot.”

“Perhaps. And yes, indeed, a gold chariot would be a treasure. What’s more likely true is that he was buried with his men. They’re all but bones now. Over a thousand years old.”

“Master Yun says that eight thousand terracotta soldiers are enshrined in the tomb with him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Li said, sincerely. “He says they were called the Night Guards Army. They are fully equipped with armour and weapons, hundreds of saddled combat steeds pawing the ground by their sides, the vanguard in trussed hair, bearing archer’s bows and crossbows. There are war chariots and infantrymen outfitted with spears, daggers, lances and halberds. The soldiers stand in battle formation, presenting a united front, an unbreakable all-conquering force.” Li stopped talking, breathless.

A curious look crossed the captain’s face. He removed the saddlebags from his mount and threw them to the ground. “Master Yun was right. You
are
too eager to fight.”

Quan had no time for a young boy’s fancies of battle and glory. The reality was to build a barrier along the northern frontier so strong that it couldn’t be breached. On this site by the tributary of the Yellow River, his men dug clay and hoisted stone for two months and at the end of that time, half of them transported the lot to Datong on a train of horse-drawn carts, while the other half remained to further dig and quarry. Lucky for Li, she was chosen to go with Quan to the Datong garrison.

%%%

Spring had set the gardens to bloom and soon the soft summer winds would lift the chill from the air. There was no hope the Chinese could defeat the Mongols. They had been beaten before, but never conquered, and the warlord’s silence was worrying. Again and again they would rise, no matter how many times the Imperial Army cut them down. Tens of thousands had died at the hands of Ming warriors, and still they came. It was only a matter of time before Esen would surface. Over the winter, Jasmine had kept her distance, but she too would come for him. Master Yun must act. The wall from Datong to Xuanfu and Jizhou was complete; the army was now working west from Datong toward Shanxi. Somehow he must visit the ancient earthen tomb and find a way inside.

The sun was setting and with the coming of night, Master Yun sought with hawk’s eyes the mound of First Emperor Qin. He had no power to transfigure into the bird the same way Jasmine became a fox. She could run the distance to the tomb in a matter of days without tiring, but he could not sprout wings. His only hope was in his legs and the span of his leap, because without war and death his power abated. But if he mustered enough energy from the earth itself, slipped on the mantle of the geomancer one more time, provoked the water from the fountain—as he had the day he escaped the fox faerie’s jaws—and sent a missive via the Yellow River, he could speak to the spirits of the lifeless soldiers beneath the giant earthwork.

Master Yun stood before the jade lily pads and the marble fish. The water trickled from the rock above his head into the stone basin where it gradually absorbed back into the earth. He drew on all the power he could muster. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, frowned. Was there an alternate way to achieve his goal? Yes! He must save what little power he had left and hope that it would rise anew when he reached his destination.

%%%

Though spring hovered, the wind off the frozen river bit into the skin. The brown grasses frosted with snow stippled the landscape. Li tolerated the rough work and the cold garrison. Strict discipline from Master Yun’s training helped her to overcome the discomfort, and thick furs kept her warm as her breath crystalized and the sweat on her eyebrows slickened to ice.  Warmer days arrived and as the land transformed from dust to green, she blossomed full into womanhood. She would have to work hard to hide the fact. Staying anonymous was difficult with Lok Yu so near. The looks he sent her were malicious and spiteful, and if ever he learned her identity, he would exact his revenge.

A kiln had been built in an area cleared of brush. The clay bricks were baked to a grey brown colour, and when they were ready, they were carted long distances by horse-drawn cart. The shorter distances were traversed on foot with a carrying pole across a man’s shoulders and two baskets of bricks at either end. Where Li worked in the hills near Datong, a line of men passed bricks from hand to hand, uphill to the construction site of a fortress. The bricks were mortared with a concoction of mud and cooked glutinous rice.

The work was brutal and sweaty. Never had she worked this hard in her life, and her skin where it was exposed to the sun was a deep golden brown. Now, more than ever, she needed the girdle strapped around her chest to flatten her breasts. As the days grew warmer, she replaced her furs with cloth, and wore a loose shirt that made her look shapeless. Some days the sun was relentless, although it wasn’t yet summer, and although Chi Quan gave her odd looks, not once did he question her. She was well aware of his watching. Did he suspect? She wanted him to know, but Master Yun’s warning stopped her.

Li left the wall to find a spot down by the nearby river to pee. This was a trick—to avoid being seen by the men. Fortunately, the earthworks snaked along the watercourse with hidden alcoves. The best place to find privacy was below the embankment by the river. There, the new rushes grew slim and tall among the cicadas and dragonflies, and it occurred to her that the calm water and the lofty yellow-green reeds formed a perfect bathing spot. No one could see her because the men washed out in the open, upstream, where the water moved fast. Too many days and nights had passed without washing, and her hair in particular needed a good scrub. At first she was cautious and removed only the shirt to wash her arms, shoulders and neck, but after several bathing sprees, she got careless.

It was a warm sunny day. The crew had stopped work for a supper break. Li roamed along the riverbank until it dipped out of sight of the camp. Ten minutes, she thought. She’d steal ten minutes to bathe before joining the men for food. She raced down the shallow embankment and tested the ground. It was dry here. She dropped the clay brick she’d been carrying as a decoy in case anyone noticed when she left the camp, stripped out of her sweaty clothes, pulled the pins out of her hair, and let her topknot fall around her shoulders.

The wind rippled the river as she wet her feet and negotiated the reed forest near the shore. She wound her way past the thick rushes and fell onto her stomach to swim downriver. It was good to release her hair and dunk her head into the cool water. She rubbed her hair with her fingertips and felt the river wash the soil and sweat from her body.

Li dived into the cool depths, kicking up the sediment in the shallows as she returned to the reed forest. She glanced at the bigness of the sun and realized with dismay that she had stayed too long. Someone might miss her.

Pushing the last column of reeds out of her way, she froze in her tracks. Stupid girl. She grabbed a handful of reeds to cover herself, but it was pointless. Lok Yu stood on the riverbank holding her clothes, smirking, seeing her naked. He casually dangled the girdle she used to flatten her breasts. “So this is how you do it.”

“Lok Yu, for once in your life. Do the right thing.”

“Damned right I’m going to do the right thing.” He threw her clothes as far away from her as he could, and she backed into the rushes. Her heart was already racing and her feet followed. Where on earth was she going to go without clothes? She had no weapon either. If she’d had a knife on her, she would have killed him and asked questions later.

His footsteps pounded on the dried mud of the ground as he followed the sounds of her splashing. What was she doing? She must confront him. Running away wouldn’t fix this.

His footfalls ceased and she stopped to listen. Maybe he wasn’t such a jerk, maybe there was something good in him if she appealed to his humanity. She draped her hair over her chest to cover as much of her body as it would, thrust the reeds aside and stepped out.