The Pirate Empress (14 page)

He swirled his hands in the air to triple the force of the windblast and then summoned the forces of reversal, calling on the power of the cyclone to spin the air in a horizontal surge. This trick wouldn’t last long, but hopefully long enough for Quan and Li to escape.

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Where was Master Yun? He should have been back by now. He was supposed to create a diversion so that Li could be whisked away from the executioner’s blade. Quan had no alternative plan, and without Master Yun the rescue was too risky. There was nothing between Li and death—except this scimitar. Even if he got to her room, the windows were boarded and sentries stood in the courtyard as well as outside her bedchamber door. He needed a decoy, but whom could he trust?

It was only minutes now before they would lead her to the executioner’s stone. He paced the floor at the rear of the public square, fingering the sheathed scimitar at his hip. The magic of the blade only worked when the hilt was fully gripped. He looked toward the palace gates to plot his escape route, and saw He Zhu standing among the crowd. Could he trust him? Quan frowned. Jasmine was nowhere in sight. Sentinels flanked the Emperor. Quan hoped Master Yun was right about this blade. If they identified him as the rescuer, his service in the Imperial Army was finished.

Through the arched doorway of the main palace two soldiers armed with daggers escorted Li. The executioner in his black robes and short beard stood waiting by the stone block, sharpening his sabre on a whetstone. She could barely walk. Amidst the roaring spectators she stumbled, fell, and the guards kicked at her to force her to stand up. Finally, one of them lifted her by the arms. “Murderer, harlot, sorceress!” The crowd badgered her. “The infant who magically defied the death sentence of His Majesty, the girl who bewitched the people into believing she was a boy. Now she is a woman—seducer and killer of young men.”

Quan went to Zhu, placed an agitated hand on his shoulder, and the lieutenant turned to stare at him. “You, of all people, know that she is none of these things,” Quan said. Was that a hint of uncertainty in Zhu’s eye? “Many times you have saved my life, and I yours. Let’s put aside our differences. Lotus Lily needs us.”

Zhu stiffened his neck and looked away. “She is condemned by the decree of His Majesty, the Ming Son of Heaven.”

“This time, he is mistaken. This is his daughter. Zhu, you know that I am the last person to defy His Majesty. Always I am faithful and loyal. But the girl has committed no crime. The girl must live. The future of the Middle Kingdom depends on her survival.”

“How so?”

“She will bear a son: a ruler to bind all of China, a warrior to lead the Imperial forces against the Mongols and all its allies. She killed Esen. Isn’t that worth something?” Quan paused for a breath. Li was almost at the chopping block. He had no more breath to waste. “You know the girl, Zhu. You’ve spoken to her. Is she a murderer, a sorceress? When a man does these things, he’s hailed as a hero.”

Zhu’s tight jaw softened slightly, but his eyes stayed focused on the spectacle. Quan sighed. He had made his best attempt. He turned his back on his old friend and rushed to where his horse waited.

They were forcing Li to stand in front of the chopping block, pushed her to her knees. Quan mounted his horse, raised the Scimitar. Just as the executioner hoisted his sabre, Quan shot forward on his steed. The bronze blade captured the sunlight in a blinding flash, and he crashed through the crowd, sending them screeching in surprise. The Scimitar of Yongfang stopped the executioner’s sabre in a clang of metal. The sentinels charged, people screamed. Quan had only one sword, and he needed his other arm to sweep Li onto his horse—but a soldier whipped his blade into Quan’s face and he had to fight.

“Run Li,” he yelled.

She stumbled and fell, rose again in a heroic effort to escape, but then a horseman plunged through the gates and swept her onto his steed. “I’ve got her!” Zhu shouted.

In the chaos, Quan could only see a flurry of colour as Li, in her dancing girl costume, and He Zhu, in Imperial grey and yellow, galloped out of the palace gates on horseback. Quan slashed the Scimitar one more time and speared a soldier that got in his way. As he withdrew the blade, blood dripped darkly onto the white stone floor of the public square. He looked up to see the backside of Zhu’s horse galloping through the city. With a high-pitched “Yah!” he spurred his mount through the gates in their wake.

Heels deep in horseflesh, he rode like a ghost clutched at his tail. In the distance, he spotted Zhu with Li and an old man chasing them as though on his last legs, trying to catch up. As he squinted against the midday sun, he saw that the pursuer was Master Yun. The old master looked weak and drained and the closer Quan got, the more he realized that Master Yun was near collapse. At his heels now, Quan reined in his horse.

“It is done,” Master Yun said, gasping for breath as Quan stopped beside him. “We have only minutes now before the fox faerie escapes my prison and comes for us.”

Quan extended a hand to help him onto the back of his horse. He had not deserted them after all. Somehow, he had stopped Jasmine from preventing Li’s rescue and in the process had freed Zhu from the fox faerie’s power. “You imprisoned her? So, that’s why her power over Zhu has weakened.”

He turned his head to see Master Yun nod. “It seems so. All the more reason to hurry.”

“Will he turn on her, once Jasmine is free?”

“I do not know.” Master Yun squeezed Quan’s shoulder. “No more talk. We must go.” He clutched Quan’s armour around the waist as the captain urged his horse to a gallop. “Make for the farmhouse at the crossroad to collect Tao and the supplies, then we head south to First Emperor’s mound.”

They flew through the city, past the houses and markets and businesses to the outlying farmlands until they reached the crossing where Tao tarried with two provision-loaded horses. Zhu and Li already rested by the black-roofed farmhouse, Li in so much pain she did not notice Tao among her rescuers. Quan alighted and went to her. Much as he was grateful to Zhu for her rescue, he wouldn’t feel safe until she straddled his own horse. No time for talk or explanations. Master Yun took one of Tao’s horses, which happened to be Xingbar while Tao mounted the other. Quan stood facing his lieutenant. No words existed to thank him for his decency and heroism, and now Zhu had no choice but to join them as outlaws. Although the riot of people panicking and soldiers fighting had masked Zhu’s identity, there was no guarantee that he wasn’t recognized. Only Quan was safe because he had wielded the Scimitar of Yongfang.

He mounted his steed. “Zhu,” Quan said, his voice thick.

He Zhu nodded. No further words were needed. They must ride before His Majesty’s men found their trail.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Magic Square of Master Yun

It had taken every remaining fibre of Master Yun’s strength to perform the windblast. The Emperor wouldn’t act until he had received the counsel of the fox faerie. He had been under the influence of
Huli Jing
much longer than He Zhu, and so the effects would take longer to wear off. She would escape before this happened.

They rode for several days and even more nights. Master Yun chose a roundabout route to confuse any pursuers. The giant mound appeared in the distance, and at the dawning of another day they finally crossed the river flats leading to First Emperor’s tomb.

This time the horses were led up the slope to the crest of the gigantic man-made hill. Scrubby growth and webbed thickets thwarted their progress. Summer had come early and already drought was threatening; dead vegetation tangled at their feet and the grass that made the mound so green in the summertime withered. At the summit, most of the dead patches gave way to bare earth, and rain and wind had long since swept away the dragon mark.

From this vantage he had a spectacular view of all of the Middle Kingdom—but first he must attend to Li’s feet. A warrior maiden had no use for flowerpot shoes.

On the parched ground, she moaned with pain, knees drawn up to where she clasped them with her arms, Tao at her feet, squeezing his eyelids shut in anguish. “I can never excuse myself for betraying your whereabouts,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Tao, I am just so glad you’re alive. The fox faerie told me you were dead, that everyone who had rescued Ling She’s newborn was dead. So please don’t talk like this. You didn’t give me away. You
couldn’t
have given me away. You did not know where I was.”

“If I could suffer the pain in your place, I would gladly do it,” he said.

“I don’t want to break your feet, Tao. And I most certainly do not want to see you in flowerpot slippers.”

Tears streamed down the eunuch’s face and he failed to return her smile. “One day I will die for you, my Lotus Lily.”

“Tao,” Master Yun said. “If you really want to help, the best thing you can do is to locate the medicines I need. Much of the plant life here is dead, but find me
danshen
, the red sage, and bring me its roots, and the flowers of the dragon’s breath.”

The eunuch got to his knees, kissed Li on the forehead and went to find the healing herbs.

Inside a circle of stones, Master Yun set about making a fire with sticks and leaves. He sent Zhu to find wood and Quan to fetch water from the saddlebags strapped to the horses. He fed the fire with dried twigs and broken branches, and boiled water in a small copper pot, and by the time the water hissed and bubbled, the eunuch returned with everything needed. Skilled at many things, Master Yun sliced the root into slivers, before he dropped them and the crushed flowers of the dragon’s breath into the pot to steep. The petals of the dragon’s breath were to ease Li’s pain and the red sage root would heal her bruises. Master Yun sent Tao to search for food plants, and the eunuch descended the hill to hunt farther afield.

While the brew cooled, Master Yun set Li’s feet with wooden splints. She cried out once, then grit her teeth, tears wetting her eyes. All the time he worked aligning her toe bones he was silent, and when done, he rose and walked a few paces away, leaving Quan to keep her company. He ignored the growing affection between the two young people and made a fist to glance at his Moonstone, but the gem was murky, as leaden as the sky overhead. What choice had he now but to rely on the arts of men?

His hands slid into the bell-shaped sleeves of his robe as he took in the landscape. To the northwest were the Black Mountains, to the east the Yellow River delta; to the south was the Waterworld of the South China Sea and to the far north, the Mongol Steppes, the Gobi Desert and the Land of the Walking Bones. The shape of the terrain warned of peril from the north and west, and of uncertainty to the east. Only the south brought hope.

Master Yun returned to where Li sat on the ground by the cooling herb brew. He tested the heat of the medicine, ripped a strip of cloth from his own robe, dipped the cloth into the solution and wrung it out, allowing the warm drops to dribble over Li’s broken feet. When her skin started to respond to the healing effects of the mixture, he squeezed out the cloth until it was only slightly damp before he wrapped it over her feet and told her to rest. The dragon’s breath was already working, and her face was no longer contorted in pain, although the
danshen
would take a little longer to mend the injured blood vessels and tissues.

“Master Yun, Master Yun!” Tao tore up the hill breathless, gathering his robes in a double-fisted grip to increase his stride. “Riders to the north.”

“How many?” Quan demanded, leaping to his feet.

“They’re too far away to count, but they’re coming fast.”

He Zhu appeared over the hill with an armload of wood.

“No need for that anymore, Zhu,” Master Yun said. “We can’t spend the night here. Gather your things and prepare to ride.”

Quan squinted into the distance, counted twenty men, no more than that. “If we flee now, they will simply pursue us. They are armed with one-hundred-pound C-bows. On the open plain we’ll be moving targets, easier to sight than a herd of goats. We will never escape in time.”

“You’re right. We must stay and fight, then wait for our chance.”

Quan fingered the Scimitar at his hip, stared at the intruders again, frowning. “I don’t think they are Emperor’s men. His Majesty would have sent a bigger troop than that.”

Master Yun agreed, and seized a stick from the ground. “Everyone get behind me. We can’t fight, nor can we wait to be killed. Grab the horses and try to keep them from running.”

He ploughed a line in the dry earth with the stick, scored three more until a square emerged, then he crossed the square a further three times first horizontally, then vertically. He completed the Magic Square and started to fill it with the symbols of his companions. This would raise a Geomantic Shield. The shield would scatter the
Chi—
the life force—of each individual to be protected. The altered configuration of their energy would confuse the enemy, while the two strongest warriors, either himself, Chi Quan or He Zhu, maintained an X-link inside the Square.

Glancing up from his concentration he saw a familiar figure rise over the hill.

“It’s Esen!” Li screamed. “He’s not dead!”

The horsemen were almost upon them. He had already filled in the boxes of the Magic Square with the characters of Li’s, Quan’s, and Tao’s names. The problem was that five required protection and only multiples of two could be protected. He decided to leave himself out and added Zhu’s name.

Behind him the horses bucked in terror and whinnied. Quan and Zhu wound the reins to their fists to control them. Tao leaped forward, shouting, “Master Yun, look out!”

Just as he was about to seal the Square with the final character an arrow whizzed past his ear, and he ducked. He turned in time to see the projectile pierce Tao through the heart. The warlord had aimed his C-bow at the maker of the Magic Square, but missed.

The wounded eunuch lay on his back with the shaft of a Mongol arrow jutting upward from his chest as Li crawled over and wailed, “Taoooo!”

Master Yun hauled her from the dead man and thrust her into Quan’s arms.

“It’s how he would have wanted it,” Quan said as Li tried to struggle out of his grasp. “He felt bad for betraying you. Now he has died for you. His soul will rest in peace.”

Master Yun dropped down to the Magic Square and quickly switched Tao’s name for his own, and the shield shot up.

Ink dark clouds thickened, a fork of lightning whitened the sky. If the squall picked up any stronger it would blow the Square away. A tempest of arrows assailed them from the Mongol horsemen, but the windslash created by the shield staved them off.

“Now’s your chance. The shield will protect you until you leave the mound. Mount your steeds and ride. You only have a few minutes before the steppe riders catch on. They are skilled marksmen. Unless you put due speed between you, the archers will not miss. I’ll meet you on the cliffs above the jungle path to the Waterworld. Leave me the Scimitar.”

Quan handed the ancient blade to Master Yun who shoved it into his sash under his robes. Quan and Zhu wanted to stay to fight, but Master Yun ordered them away. One of the horses almost escaped as an arrow nicked its ear. Zhu seized the horse by the bit and brought its head under control.

“Hurry,” Master Yun hollered. “The shield will not last.”

Quan hoisted Li onto his horse and clamoured on behind her. He flicked the reins and the stallion wheeled and galloped south. Zhu leaped onto his steed, and sent an iron bolt from his crossbow into one of the barbarians, before circling to follow suit. Master Yun slapped Tao’s horse on the rump and sent it flying after the others. It could go with them or find safety elsewhere, but he was not leaving it to be a trophy for Esen’s bandits.

Among the horses only his remained, and Master Yun spoke reassuringly, “We will leave soon, Xingbar.”

As the horsed princess and her rescuers vaulted down the hill on the other side of the mound, Esen’s horsemen arrived.