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Authors: Jeanne Lin

Tags: #China, #Historical Romance

The Sword Dancer (16 page)

BOOK: The Sword Dancer
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He was not ready to give up.

‘Tell me about Two Dragon Lo again,’ she said sleepily.

With all that was happening around them, she wanted to talk about that old tale? ‘That story is told too often as it is.’

‘You don’t like speaking of him.’

‘Thunder and lightning split the sky with every strike of our swords,’ he said, resigned.

‘We’re lovers now,’ she chided. ‘Indulge me’

He ran his hand along her arm. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘What was he like?’

‘Like?’

‘Was he clever? Cruel? Did he ambush you?’

He was taken aback. Everyone wanted him to talk about the notorious battle, but no one seemed to care who Lo had been behind the legend.

‘He was an educated man. More so than me.’

‘Educated? I’ve never heard that before.’

He liked the way she sounded, so soft and close. They were nothing but two voices with no pasts between them. He wasn’t a thief-catcher and she wasn’t a sword dancer. He could be completely honest with her.

‘He took the imperial exams several times, but never passed.’

‘You could tell that from a swordfight?’ she asked, incredulous.

There were legends of great warrior-scholars who could read an opponent’s entire soul in how he wielded his sword. Han could tell a lot about someone from how they fought. He had recalled his first match with Li Feng countless times, reliving the memory over and over. In this case, the answer wasn’t so ephemeral.

‘We spoke. Over wine,’ he replied.

He had been tracking Two Dragon Lo, but believed he was still far from the bandit’s lair. He had reached a remote drinking pavilion in the mountains and stopped to rest. Another traveller had happened by as well. It seemed untoward to sit at different tables, so they shared wine. The stranger had knowledge of classics, of history, of poetry. Han was so accustomed to dealing with the lowest of society that the discussion reawakened an ember within him. He called for more wine.

Eventually they came to the topic of law. Han’s studies had ended at the age of fifteen, so he was lacking in all those other areas. But in this topic, he was able to at least provide some lively debate.

‘We disagreed on everything,’ he told Li Feng. ‘But the stranger had such well-formed arguments and he was passionate about them. The way Father would be whenever he lectured us over dinner. I was certain I had stumbled upon some wandering scholar.’

‘What’s your name?’
he had asked the stranger. He was ready to concede defeat in the debate and drink to his opponent’s honour.

‘I had another name where I came from, but now everyone calls me Lo.’

‘He finished his wine, but from the look he gave me as he set the cup down, I was certain he had known the entire time who I was.’

Li Feng held completely still as she considered his story. ‘He came to challenge you.’

‘I don’t know for certain.’

‘Were you frightened?’

He placed his lips against her hair. She smelled like rain. ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Two Dragon Lo deserved to die.’ He’d told her the same thing once before and he still believed it, but there was one thing that he’d never admitted to anyone. ‘I didn’t want to kill him.’

‘You’ve killed men before Lo.’

He nodded in the darkness, but she seemed to know his answer.

‘Then why regret his death?’

‘I don’t.’

She was silent after that, which meant she didn’t believe him.

‘He wanted you to be the one to kill him,’ she said.

‘That’s not true. Lo didn’t come to surrender. He fought with everything he had.’

‘You didn’t hear me correctly.’ Li Feng drew a senseless character over his chest. ‘He didn’t want to die, but he wanted you to be the one to kill him.’

He tried to bring back the last moments of the battle. It was grey outside the pavilion. All Han remembered was the killing stroke. Lo was on his knees. Han was also bruised, bleeding. His last blow had torn into the bandit’s shoulder and Lo’s weapon was gone. His hands were stained with blood and dirt. Han’s shadow had fallen over him and Lo had looked up with eyes that were unblinking. Han ended it quickly after that.

What he didn’t realise until after the battle was that Lo had studied the sword the way a gentleman studied. His technique was centred on perfecting sword forms which were intertwined with symbolism and philosophy. He was proficient with the sword, even skilled. But Han, the failed scholar, had been trained as a soldier. He’d fought for his life against murderers, smugglers and rebels—desperate men with nothing to lose. His skill had been earned through survival.

‘I don’t know why I won,’ Han confessed.

This was the mystery of war and battle. Was it truly valour that determined who walked from the battlefield alive?

‘You weren’t the only one hunting him. There must have been others.’

‘The provincial army was preparing to move against him. After his death, they raided his lair and his gang was apprehended.’

‘Then Two Dragon Lo would have been beheaded as a traitor,’ she pointed out.

It was a trial by ordeal, an ancient tradition that he and Lo had even debated over wine. If Lo had defeated him, the bandit leader would have considered it a sign that it wasn’t his time and continued on with his rebellion until the next opponent came along.

‘I never considered that Lo wanted to die as a gentleman.’

‘He wanted to choose his own death,’ she concluded.

The world of rivers and lakes glorified honourable death just as it made heroes out of rebels and outlaws. Han didn’t like the dark turn of the conversation or Li Feng’s fascination with this underworld.

‘Don’t go, Li Feng.’ He couldn’t make it any plainer.

‘There is no other way.’

She started to move away, but he reached out to take hold of her hand.

‘There is.’ He could be just as stubborn as she was. ‘I already spoke of it. Stay with me. We’ll find a place where we can start a new life.’

‘And both give up the thing we’ve longed for the most? You would turn back around long before I would.’

‘You’re not making sense,’ he said impatiently. ‘What would I be giving up? I’m a thief-catcher, Li Feng. A man with a sword and nothing else. This isn’t a life.’

‘Hao Han.’ There was a bitter hint of laughter in her voice. ‘You don’t really think that?’

‘We’re better together,’ he said fiercely. ‘Do you remember the salt village? It felt right with you at my side, step for step, planning every move together.’

‘Shortly before I abandoned you,’ she reminded him.

‘Li Feng.’
He sighed. There was nothing he could say to sway her.

‘I remember the look in your eyes when you discovered the salt-smuggling ring. You looked so determined, so intent on setting things right and seeing wrongdoers punished. It was the look of someone who had found their rightful place. I’ve never felt that certain about anything.’ She sounded almost envious. ‘
That
is what you cannot leave behind.’

He tried to form an argument, to find some weakness in her attack, but there was none. He stared up into blackness, letting her description of him sink in. Li Feng was right. He would never take the imperial exams or serve as magistrate, but he was trying to uphold the ideal of justice the only way he could. The same ideal his father had upheld.

She spoke again. ‘You must have felt the same as you hunted down Two Dragon Lo. You were doing what you were meant to do.’

On this point, she was wrong. He had never felt more lost than when he had faced the bandit Lo. ‘None of this convinces me we cannot be.’

‘This is fate without destiny,’ she said.

‘No. It isn’t.’

Li Feng sighed and shifted against his side, as if seeking out a more comfortable spot before settling back again. Her hair tickled against his cheek, but he didn’t brush it away.

‘Sleep now,’ she urged. ‘Let things be peaceful between us for once.’

He couldn’t sleep, but he did remain silent as she grew soft and heavy against him. He didn’t have to ask Li Feng about what she longed for most. She had listened to the stories of his family, of strangers she had never met, with such wistfulness.

His arm tightened about her possessively, his thoughts not at all peaceful. Li Feng dreamed of reclaiming the family she had lost, but what Han wanted most was her.

Chapter Fourteen

H
an didn’t know how long they had slept, but in the still hours of the night, he woke enough to reach out for Li Feng and pull her beneath him. His body was more awake than his mind was as he kissed her. She responded sleepily, her mouth slow and sweet against his.

The room was completely black. He moved on touch alone, his hands caressing over her shoulders, finding her breasts and letting the shape of them fill his palms. Her breath deepened as he stroked her nipples, her back arching slightly to him. Her head was still clouded with dreams, yet his body aroused and gripped with an urgency that traced back to the last of their conversation.

He whispered to her. ‘Is this—?’

‘Yes.’

Their hands moved between one other, shifting layers of cloth aside. He positioned his hips on either side of her, felt her damp flesh beneath his fingertips and entered into her. A sound of surrender escaped from her throat and he laid his head on to her breast in surrender, his mouth pressed against her throat as the heat of her flesh accepted and enclosed him.

He thought there could be nothing better than this moment when their bodies finally joined, but he was wrong. Her legs curved around him, deepening his penetration into her and making him groan. How could she be so intent upon leaving when every part of them fit so perfectly together?

He thrust slowly, not trusting himself to move any quicker. Li Feng dug her fingers into his hair, dragging his mouth to her with tender violence as her pleasure deepened. Too soon, his climax rushed upon him. His control slipped away as he pushed himself feverishly into her.

As the rush of blood through him subsided, he could hear the pant of Li Feng’s breath. In the blindness of release, he had no knowledge of whether she had reached her peak, but she still clung to him. Every muscle within her vibrated with tension.

Lethargically, he reached between their bodies. She gasped, her flesh contracting around him as he found the pulse point of her sex. He stroked with his fingertips and she arched gratefully against him, her hands digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

He felt clumsy and graceless as he willed her towards her own release, but he needed her to feel this now. With him.

Soon her breath caught and she shuddered before her limbs finally relaxed, going as pliant as wax. The joining of bodies was something corporeal and primal. It wasn’t enough to convince her of anything, but why couldn’t it be?

Han stayed up for a while afterwards, listening to the sounds Li Feng made in her sleep. She shifted restlessly on the pallet, back and forth. He reached out to stroke her brow and it seemed to calm her. What did she dream of? Did she leap and fly over walls even in her sleep?

Finally he did fall asleep again.

When he woke, he had that unsettling feeling of not knowing whether ten minutes had passed or an hour. He reached his hand out blindly and met nothing but emptiness.

‘Hao Han.’

Relief flooded him. Li Feng was still there.

He turned and propped himself up, his limbs still awkward and heavy upon waking. She had lit a candle, the light framing her in a tiny orb. Her face was set with deep shadows. She was already dressed.

Her voice cut through the fog in his head. He was still caught in the memory of their last joining.

‘I was going to leave while you were sleeping, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. But now that I’ve seen you to say farewell, I think I can do it.’

‘Li Feng—’

She extinguished the light and he could hear the sweep of the curtain as she left.

The death of all things. He cursed as he fumbled for his clothing.

Was it morning? Was it night? He dragged on his robe in the dark and staggered towards the stairs. Only when he left the cellar did he discover that it was indeed morning. The kitchen was stirring with activity and when he pushed out the back door into the alley, the light outside was grey.

The lane was despondently deserted. He swung his gaze upwards to the rooftops. Also empty. Li Feng had the advantage on him and she could move through a city like the east wind. It would be impossible to catch her, but he had to try.

Han scoured through the hidden alleyways first and then roamed the streets in a final, futile effort. As the city gong sounded the sixth hour, he was still empty-handed, standing dishevelled as the market crowd surrounded him.

He ran a hand roughly over his chin, reassessing. He’d wasted too much time. If he couldn’t find Li Feng, then he had to find her brother. Liu Yuan was bent on revenge and the only way to keep Li Feng safe was to stop him.

Han set out towards the yamen. Before entering the gate, he ran a hand over his robe in an attempt to straighten his appearance. He located Magistrate Tan’s office, requested an audience and was informed that the official was overseeing the morning tribunal. He would be finished at the end of the double-hour.

Han waited impatiently in the main courtyard on a bench, taking in the offices and administrative halls that surrounded the space. His father had meant for him to serve in such a place as a ranking official.

A steady stream of petitioners had entered the hall of justice. Occasionally, he had seen a prisoner being led in restraints to be brought before the tribunal. After what appeared like a busy morning, the tribunal had adjourned and Han was summoned into the inner offices.

‘Thief-catcher Han!’ Magistrate Tan welcomed him eagerly into his study. He sat down behind his desk.

‘Sir, I have information regarding the bandits responsible for murdering Guan’s steward.’

‘So soon! I knew you would not disappoint.’

The easy praise made him a little uncomfortable. ‘The bandits are hiding in the hills just north of the city. I encountered eight or nine of them, but there could be more.’

‘Well, they must be eradicated for the safety of our city,’ the magistrate said with resolve, but then let out a sigh. ‘However, our constable isn’t prepared to confront so many. And with the city guards protecting the prefect, there’s hardly enough men to protect the streets. Now, if someone had experience with bringing in such undesirables.’ Magistrate Tan regarded Han expectantly.

He was too involved to retreat now. ‘The area is spread out and there are many places to hide. We’ll need to send out several parties, but keep in close contact. How many volunteers does the constable currently employ?’

Tan looked quite satisfied. ‘Not enough, but I trust you can find good, capable men for the task. I’ll bring in Constable Guo immediately.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

He needed to move quickly. They might not be able to raise a large enough force to capture all of the bandits immediately, but the patrols would scatter them from the surrounding areas and keep them away from the city until reinforcements arrived from the local garrison. At least that was Han’s plan.

As they waited for the constable, Magistrate Tan spoke again. ‘Your father was a magistrate in the Nanping prefecture, was he not?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’ve heard admirable things about him.’

Han raised an eyebrow. Either Tan was lying or he was being overly kind.

‘Oh, I’ve certainly heard about the unfortunate events that occurred,’ the magistrate added. ‘Cruel fate, you know.’

‘It was a long time ago,’ Han said, hoping that Magistrate Tan had enquired out of politeness and that was the end of the matter.

Unfortunately it wasn’t.

‘Now, you’ve accomplished great things as a thief-catcher, but I wondered if the son of a magistrate wouldn’t have aspirations of taking the civil exams one day. Perhaps following in the steps of his illustrious father.’

He hadn’t been in the city for more than four days, yet Magistrate Tan had taken the time to discover his family history. The quickness with which he was able to find information was both remarkable and disturbing.

‘It’s been a long time since I have studied the classics,’ Han replied humbly. ‘My younger brother has taken over the burden of being the family scholar.’

‘Ah, so you have a younger brother studying for the exams? What’s his name?’

‘Chen-Yi.’

‘Zheng Chen-Yi. Very good. It would be beneficial for him to come to Minzhou,’ Tan suggested, relentless in his interest. ‘The yamen library has copies of all the classics. There might even be a clerk who needs an assistant. No better way to learn, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Sir, this is—’ Han was caught completely off guard. ‘Magistrate Tan is being very generous, but this isn’t necessary.’

Tan waved away his objections and pulled out a sheet of yellowed paper. ‘Too humble, too humble. I’ll write a letter to your father. Let him decide what’s best, hmm?’

Han couldn’t escape the feeling he was being bought, but he was being bought for something he felt already duty-bound to do and for a price that benefited not him, but his family. He watched silently as the magistrate’s brush flowed over the paper.

‘You do our city a great service, Zheng Hao Han.’ The brush continued to move steadily without pause as he spoke. ‘If your brother is half as right-minded and honourable as you, then he would make a worthy representative for Minzhou as a candidate for the exams.’

The magistrate was as slippery as an eel. His friendly, easygoing manner hid a shrewd thinker, but Han needed the man on his side if he was to hunt out Liu Yuan and his gang of bandits.

Li Feng would never forgive him for plotting against her brother. Family was blood. Family was everything, even if it meant one’s own destruction. Last night together might be their first and last, but Han had to make that sacrifice to protect her.

* * *

It had been hard to leave that room. Li Feng had fled as fast as she could, ignoring the stinging at the corners of her eyes and that sick, wrenching feeling in her chest.

She didn’t see Han behind her, but she couldn’t let down her guard. He had a way of finding her and right now she was too weak with emotion to withstand him. It would take time, she told herself. Time and distance.

Li Feng turned to lose herself in the city. She paused at the corner in the busy market, not knowing whether to turn left or right. People walked by without stopping. Faces she would never see again. Han and his relentless pursuit had become something to look forward to in a world where she was constantly surrounded by strangers.

Her last image of Han had been of him just awakening, naked in dim light. The shadows had highlighted the contours of his body and she wanted to remember him that way, that private vision that she could keep within her soul.

That wretched feeling came again, as if she were being torn up inside. She pressed a hand to her midsection, willing herself to let go. But it seemed she would need a lot more time, a lot more distance.

A man came from the opposite direction and she nearly crashed into him.

‘Pardon, miss.’

‘Sir.’

She averted her gaze and tried to step aside, only to find he’d done the same, ending up in front of her once again.

‘Miss, are you not well?’

She hadn’t given a thought to how she must look. She was blinking rapidly against the threat of tears.

‘I’m fine,’ she said curtly, willing the stranger to go his way.

The man wore a dark-coloured tradesman’s robe, modestly cut. He looked to be about forty years of age and his beard was neatly trimmed around a square face that carried a calm and serious demeanour.

‘The lady appears flushed and her breathing irregular.’

She stared at him, startled by his impertinence.

‘This servant apologises for his improper introduction! Wu Song is a humble physician. His herbal shop is across the street.’

Just a tradesman scouting for business. She allowed herself to relax. ‘I wish your business great success then.’

She bowed and attempted to disengage herself, but he was insistent. ‘Wu Song sees that the young miss is new to our city. Please come into the shop for some tea as a form of welcome.’

There was an open sincerity in his eyes. Reluctantly, she found herself following the physician. Maybe it was a good idea to get out of the street and compose herself. She also needed to be certain that she had evaded Han before seeking out her brother again.

The herbal shop was small, but well lit. The walls were lined with red-pine cabinets and rows upon rows of tiny drawers, each labeled meticulously. Physician Wu directed her to a table positioned to the side of the front room. He sat down next to her and held out his hand. Li Feng was taken aback by his forwardness, but his confident and somewhat impersonal manner disarmed her. She stretched out her arm, now more than a little curious. Wu folded back her sleeve and placed two fingers over the pulse point in her wrist. Then he bent his head as if in deep concentration.

Li Feng held her arm still and tried not to fidget. The physician’s eyes were closed and a slight crease formed at the bridge of his nose.

‘Good pulse,’ he pronounced. ‘Your
qi
is strong, though slightly imbalanced. Something is disrupting the proper flow of energy. Perhaps some strengthening of the liver would do you some good.’

He replaced her sleeve with the same meticulous care and stood to go to the medicine drawers, pulling out one after the other. He extracted an assortment of roots, powders and dried herbs which he piled on to a square of paper. Li Feng was still uncertain of whether Wu Song was a very aggressive businessman or a well-meaning physician.

‘Sir, I have no money to pay for your kind service,’ she called out to him, determined not to be swindled.

‘No payment required. The young miss is my guest.’

Li Feng bit into a piece of candied ginger from a fish-shaped dish on the table. The sharp tang of it numbed her tongue as she watched the physician pour the mixture of herbs into a pot. He glanced out the window before placing it on to his tea stove. He added more charcoal beneath it and then returned to the table.

‘The tea will take a few moments to boil.’

She nodded. It would be impolite to leave now.

The physician was pleasant enough. Perhaps she was too long away from polite society. Surely she could sit for a minute and enjoy the company and it delayed her departure for just a moment longer.

BOOK: The Sword Dancer
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