The Best of Penny Dread Tales (24 page)

He did explain some of his past. He had been born to a Samurai gone Ronin who had been killed by his old Daimyo. A family from the British consulate had adopted him at the age of four, and Inazuma had spent his life living as a British citizen, but studying the ways of his homeland. I discovered that Tiger was a con game. He would claim responsibility for crimes that were unsolved using the name, then collect his own bounty. Escaping from prison only drove up his bounty each time, and he had amassed a small fortune gaming the Chinese police.

I did ask him what had happened to the citizenry of Khon Kaen, and he was nice enough to fill me in on how he was good friends with the adjunct of the town, and the local government had helped him set up the whole bounty hunter trap. Each of the hunters he had drawn into the trap had bounties on their heads in other countries except me, which was why he had followed, then assisted me in the trap.

Also, true to his word, he broke out of prison within a couple weeks of going back, only this time he showed up at my lodgings. I made it a point not to swing by the constable offices in Guangzhou. What can I say? I liked the guy. These days we travel together. Someday I’ll make it back to the States, but for now I’m enjoying my adventures. It’s a funny ’ole world we live in, and that’s for sure, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The Weather God

David W. Landrum

Du Mu touched the warm bronze statue of the Weather God. He did not touch it out of reverence. He did not believe in gods of any kind. Yet his gesture held a small touch of sentiment that was a little like faith. If anything saved them from the upcoming foreign invasion, it would be the Weather God—not this one, but the one Shao Jiazhen had assembled—the one that rose above the bay where the European and American troops planned to disembark. He turned when he heard a jingling of bells that told him Ling, his chief serving woman, had come into the room.

She bowed.

He spoke first. “They have arrived?”

“Yes, my Master.”

“Please show them in.”

She bowed and left.

He waited, his curiosity mildly aroused. Warriors like those that he had read about in the old romances hardly existed anymore. He often wondered if they ever really had existed and to what degree they had been invented just for the sake of story. Yet this man had impressive credentials. And everyone knew of the Princess. He put his hands behind his back and waited.

Du Mu tried not to show astonishment when his guests came into the room. The man, Chen Hao, looked as if he had walked out of an illustration from an adventure book. He was tall, wore his hair long, and had broad shoulders and sinewy hands. His very stance suggested energy and focus. He wore a black tunic, black trousers, and boots trimmed with silver. In accordance with their agreement, he carried no weapon.

Beside him—and, once again, it seemed she had materialized from a fantasy novel—stood the astonishingly beautiful Princess Jing Li. She wore a white dress with gold trim, her hair tied in a long sweeping braid. Tall, trim, with strong arms and wrists, she also suggested alacrity in the way she stood. Her eyes, beautiful and seductive, scanned the entire room in one motion.

They both bowed.

“Welcome,” Du Mu said. “I am honored to have you in my home.

“The honor is surely ours,” Chen Hao said. “Allow me to introduce my fellow warrior, the Princess Jing Lin.”

She bowed again. Du Mu fought his curiosity and the impulse to stare. He had heard of Jing Li, heiress to a small but prosperous kingdom along the northern coast. The British and Italians had financed a revolt there, set up a puppet government and turned the capital of the kingdom into a port access for the good—and for opium delivery. The Princess led an army and drove them out. The foreigners suffered such heavy losses that they had never tried to avenge their defeat. They had not come near the place after the sound beating she gave their troops and the Chinese mercenaries they had hired. Her father had retaken the throne. The Princess then devoted herself to fighting against the foreign invaders who had established themselves other places in China.

“I have not met her, as I have met you, Chen Hao, but she is certainly welcome. We all know her story and are amazed at her skill in war and her devotion to her homeland. Shall we remove to the next room and have tea?”

They followed him to a rich but modestly decorated chamber. A servant opened the doors. Other servants escorted them to their seats and poured tea.

“Was your journey prosperous?”

“It was difficult. The revolt has disrupted things—travel no less than other matters. Brigands and self-proclaimed toll agents roam the highways. More than once we had to …
educate
the gangs and the militia we encountered.”

Du Mu sipped his tea. “The land is ill. If we can rid it of foreigners, it will heal. You know the foreigners are under siege in Beijing. We have them surrounded, but their firepower is considerable—and the Boxers are not well-trained soldiers. Our soldiers have confined the international force but not overcome it. They can’t last forever, though. They will eventually run out of food. Units of the Imperial Army are on the way. Of course, as you know, their governments are sending re-enforcements. Their ships are drawing near. This is the reason you and Princess Jing are here.”

They drank in silence, waiting for Du Mu to continue.

“I have hired you to free a prisoner the foreigners have taken. His name is Shao Jiazhen. He is an inventor who studied in Europe and in our own universities. He has assembled a weapon that will destroy the foreign fleet and enable us to force the contingent in Beijing to surrender.”

“Did they capture him to prevent him from using the weapon?”

“They don’t know about his skills or the weapon. They don’t even know he is a scientist. When our soldiers forced the foreigners into the embassy compound, they seized anyone who looked like they might have money or prestige and imprisoned them. He was unfortunate enough to be out walking, dressed in his best clothing that day. They are threatening to kill the hostages—keeping them as a final negotiating chip, I think. At any rate, only he knows how to activate the weapon.”

“What sort of weapon is it?”

“The weapon—as I am able to understand it—draws on the power of the sun and earth. It creates disparity and is able to generate a tsunami. In the same way the divine wind destroyed the fleet Genghis Khan assembled to conquer Japan, this weapon will destroy the iron ships of the Western intervention force.”

“You have seen it work?”

“I have. Only he knows how it operates. He must be rescued to launch the weapon.”

Du Mu drained his teacup.

“I am skeptical,” Chen said, “but you aren’t paying me to sit in judgment on the weapon’s feasibility. You’re paying me to free its inventor. What do you know about where he is?”

“We know he is in the American quarters. Other than that, we know nothing.”

“That’s something to go on, at least. We’ll undertake the assignment immediately. How soon will the foreign fleet arrive?”

“Four days.”

“I will see to the supplies. Jing needs rest. She was up last night in vigil to the goddess she worships, so if you could arrange for a place for her to sleep, it would be appreciated. We will leave this afternoon. It’s eighty miles to Beijing, so we’ll start out this very night to get there in plenty of time.”

Du Mu bowed and summoned the servant to escort them, Jing to a sleeping room and Chen to the guard barracks where he would select food for their trip. Chen had just finished loading their packs when a frantic servant came to him to report that the Princess had been poisoned. He rushed to the atrium where Du Mu and a man he took to be a physician stood over the pale figure of Jing, who sat in a chair.

Chen took her hand. She looked up at him.

“Close call,” she said.

“Someone poisoned her pillow,” Du Mu put in.

“I’m all right,” she assured them, though she looked faint and her breathing was uneven. “When I put my head down, I caught the scent of almonds and knew it was poisoned with cyanide. Fate and the mercy of the Goddess Kuan Yin spared me.”

“Fate barely spared you,” Chen said, his eyes angry.

Du Mu spread his hands. “I don’t know what to say. Shame overbears my soul.”

“Assemble your servants,” Jing Li said. “I want to see everyone who would have had access of that room.”

Du Mu ordered the assembly. Jing seemed stronger now. “Chen,” she said, “please fetch my uniform. It’s hanging up in the room. Only the pillow is poisoned. If you don’t touch it, no harm will come to you. Du Mu, is there a chamber where I might change, that modesty be observed?”

He led her to a small room. Chen brought her clothing. He could hear the household assembling in the atrium. He noted that Du Mu seemed uneasy, fearing, no doubt, that his guests would blame him for this treachery. After a while, Jing emerged dressed in loose-fitting black pants and a black smock. She looked more stable. Her color had returned and her breathing was even.

“Are the servant assembled?”

Du Mu nodded and led them to the atrium.

His guards had rounded up everyone—cooks, grooms, the gardener, the house servants; and then they themselves lined up in rank. Chen and Jing stood before them. At a nod from Jing, Chen stepped back. She stood in front of the assembly for several moments, saying nothing. The servants, already frightened, looked more and more anxious. Finally, she walked to the end of the line and went slowly down the rank, scanning every face. At the end of the line she stopped and turned on her heels. She paused and then walked up to a young servant girl. She stood a moment, looked at Du Mu, and said, “This one.”

The blood drained from the girl’s face. She collapsed. Jing caught her.

“Bring her to the reception hall,” she ordered.

Four soldiers seized the girl. By now she had regained her senses. She sobbed and pleaded as they dragged her off. When they came to the threshold of the reception, she vomited. The soldiers pushed her to her knees in front of Jing.

“Look at me,” she said. The girl lifted her terror-filled eyes. “Why did you try to kill me?”

“Mercy, my Lady,” the servant girl wept.

“There may be mercy for you if you speak truthfully. If you keep sputtering, I’ll order your master to have you crucified. Now answer. Why did you try to kill me?”

“Money,” she said, barely able to speak. “My family is poor. My sisters will have to become prostitutes if we don’t find more money.”

“Where is the money?”

“Hidden in my bed.”

“Send someone to find it,” she told Du Mu. He gestured. Two guards left the room. Jing leaned forward. “Who gave you this money?”

“A man. He wore a hood and kept his face hidden. He came to the wall and gave me coins. He gave me the poison to spread on the pillow. Have mercy, my Lady, in the name of the Goddess of Compassion whose devotee you are. Please don’t have me crucified.”

“You will die, you traitorous little—” Du Mu stopped, not wanting to use vulgar language in front of the princess.

“She did this out of concern for her family,” Jing Li replied. “For this reason, I ask that you spare her life—and give her to me for the task I have in mind. If she lives through it, she will redeem herself.”

Du Mu spread his hands, his eyes full of malice at the servant girl, mouth tight, but acquiescence in his manner. He had understood it was a command.

“You should appreciate that the Princess is merciful,” he said, fighting to control his anger. “If this were my decision, your immediate future would not be a pleasant one. But I defer to her judgment. You belong to her now.”

“What is your name, girl?”

“Soong, an it please you, my Lady.”

“I want you to go and bathe. I detect from your smell what happened to you. This often happens when we are terrified. When you finish bathing, wait for me in the bath chamber.”

She left, accompanied by guards. After a moment, the chief servant returned with a bag of coins he had found in Soong’s mattress.

“Spread them on the table,” Chen ordered.

The servant opened the bag and poured out its contents. The horde covered the entire tabletop. Chen recognized the coins of the realm but also saw ones imprinted with eagles and the faces of Europeans.

“German, British, American,” Chen said, running his fingers over them. “These are from inside the compound. Someone there knew we were coming.”

“I don’t know how that could be,” Du Mu said. “Only I knew your identities or that you were coming here. Surely you don’t suspect
me
of treachery.”

“We know you for an honorable man. There has to be another explanation. The coins are various. Whoever delivered them to the girl took up a collection, which shows their resources are limited and that they can’t get out of the compound—though they seem to have an intermediary, someone from the outside who is able to communicate with them and who received this payment to pass on to the girl.” He looked at Du Mu. “We need to move quickly. This plot failed, but if they have successfully infiltrated your staff, we are not safe here.”

“I am ashamed beyond my ability to express it,” Du Mu said. His eyes glistened with tears.

“This treachery is only one effect of a disease deep in the body of our nation. If we can break the resistance of the foreigners in the embassy compound by destroying the relief convoy coming to them, the disease will be purged.”

Du Mu nodded and bowed.

***

Princess Jing Li walked into the bathing chamber. Soong stood by the side of a tub. The air, steamy, filled Jing’s lungs and made her feel more purged of the poison that had invaded her body. Soong had wrapped a towel around herself.

“Drop the towel,” Jing said.

Soong let it fall to her. Jing assessed her. She was a strong girl with wide, firm shoulders, well-developed ribs, a flat stomach, powerful thighs, and muscular legs. She had small breasts and a small, neat triangle of black hair where her legs met.

“Do you desire me, my Lady?” she asked, looking up and attempting a smile.

“My desires do not so tend,” Jing said. “Are you used in this way here, Soong?”

“Sometimes. It is not a thing I in which take pleasure, but when a highborn lady who is the Master’s guest demands it of me, I have no choice but to obey.”

“Well, I don’t have that in mind. I only wanted to see your body so I could assess your level of strength. You are a strong.” She did not reply but dropped her eyes modestly. “You’re from a farm?”

“Yes.”

“I can tell you’ve worked hard and eaten wholesome food. If you’re a woman from this area, you must know the use of the staff.”

The girl did not reply.

“Do you?”

“Yes, my Lady. I hope this does not displease you.”

“Quite to the contrary. Get dressed and meet me in the courtyard. I’ll tell your master to permit you to wait there. Remember you are my slave now.”

“I will obey you, Princess Jing.” And forgetting she was naked, Soong made a bow, bending her slender body low, her hands at her sides. Jing thought her bow was one of the loveliest things she had ever seen.

She went upstairs and drank a potion the doctor had prepared, instructed the guards to fetch a wooden staff and then went down to where Soong was waiting. As always, guards stood near her. Jing nodded. She looked lithe and trim in pants and a smock. A guard handed the staff to her.