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Authors: Deborah Cannon

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BOOK: The Pirate Empress
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Ever wary of being exposed Li had avoided him. Drawing attention to herself could mean disaster. If Master Yun discovered her sex he would toss her out. But it nettled to see the young boy humiliated. She stormed over to the bully and the swiftness of her movements took him off-guard. Li grabbed his arm and used his weight to flip him onto his back.

“Well done.”

Li swung around and saw that the speaker was Chi Quan. She forced a steady gaze on him and this time she managed to speak. “Captain.”

“Who is this young man?” Quan asked her teacher.

“A foolish upstart,” Master Yun said. “He is wilful and too anxious to become a fighter. Bow before your superior.”

Quan stared at her and she bowed, and then raised her head to hold his eye. He squinted as he examined her features. “Do I know you? Your face seems familiar.”

“No, sir,” she lied. “We’ve never met. But I am very proud to meet His Majesty’s Captain of the First Regiment and Master of the Horses.”

Quan smiled. “I like your style.”

And I like yours.

“Master Yun,” Quan said turning away. “I must speak to you on a matter of grave importance.”

Lok Yu glared at Li as the two moved away. The ugly scowl on his face told her that this incident would not go unpunished. Not only had she shown him up in front of Master Yun, but she had also emasculated him before the great Chi Quan.

%%%

Quick as a fox Li returned to the concubine’s quarters after Master Yun dismissed the class. She hurried to her room and stripped off the Kung Fu clothes and donned her concubine’s costume. One day she was going to get caught. But that day wasn’t today. She combed out her long black hair until it shone, painted her face china-doll pretty. She slipped her feet into dainty flowerpot slippers, dropped the long silk skirt over her feet and tottered from her room to seek Jasmine.

Her aunt was nowhere to be found. Was she with His Royal Highness? Lately, he required the Lady Jasmine a lot. Poor thing.

At Jasmine’s room a light shone beyond the beaded curtain. Li slid in and noted to her amazement that she had company. Jasmine lay naked on her back in bed with the brown muscular body of a warrior on top of her. Li gulped in a gasp. Was this what was meant when Jasmine had said that sometimes sex could be good? With this man, and because of the happy sounds coming from the bedding, it could be nothing
but
good.

Li started to back out the door when the soldier jerked up his head and caught her staring. He spoke a word that sounded like
Huli Jing
and flaunted a dagger in his fist.

Jasmine never saw her. She disappeared from the bed before Li even knew what happened. But that wasn’t what had her speechless. What choked the words in her throat was the sight of her aunt turning into a fox before slipping out of the window.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

The Mongol Warlord

 

“Who are you?” Captain Chi Quan’s lieutenant, He Zhu, left the bed.

Li gaped at what a marvellous example of manhood he was. He looked nothing like the Emperor. She had seen the Emperor naked in his bath; he was fish-belly white from never exposing his skin to the sun. The blubbery fat floated around his waist and stomach like some sort of boneless sea creature. Before she had vomited on his slippers, the concubines often brought her with them to attend to His Majesty’s ablutions. That routine was quickly dropped at the request of His Majesty himself.

But He Zhu, he was tall, and brown from waging war in the hot climate of the South Coast, and the fresh scar on his right arm bespoke his valour. Li’s eyes refused to shift from his muscular chest and the ripeness of his jade spear. It quickly dwindled as he realized she wasn’t his target.

He suddenly smiled at her, amused at her huge eyes and slightly parted lips. “Ah, now I recall. You’re the little concubine. And as lovely as your aunt.”

Speaking of which, where
was
she? For one ghastly moment, Li thought that maybe He Zhu was a warlock. Had he somehow magically hexed Jasmine into a fox? She remembered the words,
Huli Jing
. Fox spirit. Could that jade spear between his legs have been the culprit? Had piercing her with it turned her aunt into a beautiful golden fox? Oh, to escape these yellow mosaic ceilings and endless brick walls. If only it were possible!

“Young lady,” He Zhu said. “It’s all right, I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me,” she said.

“Well, that look could’ve fooled me.” He grinned, flung his dagger to the bed and started to dress as Li watched. He clamped his chest plate across his breastbone. “So, you’re one of His Majesty’s concubines.”

“His Majesty hasn’t asked for me.” She didn’t explain why.

He Zhu frowned. Then he smiled. “I would ask for you.”

Li was delighted, but decided not to show it. It occurred to her that she was flirting with her aunt’s lover. Oh dear. Her aunt, His Majesty’s number one concubine, had a lover. Did anyone else know? “Where is she?” Li asked.

Lieutenant He Zhu stared blankly.

“Do you think I’m stupid, sir? Do you think I thought you were making love to an empty bed?”

“You saw nothing here.” His voice rang ominously as he moved quickly to restrain her. Li was smarter than that. Although she wanted to practice Kung Fu on him, she shut her mouth, glared up at him and said, “I won’t scream. I only want to see my aunt.”

He Zhu donned the rest of his armour and returned his dagger to its sheath. He went to the window and looked outside onto the still courtyard. The pine trees swayed and the scent of cherry blossoms drifted into the room. He frowned again; this time, the furrows in his brow deepening as a commotion stirred in the main square. “I must go. Something is happening outside the palace gates.”

“Wait! You can’t go without telling me where she is.”

The lieutenant ignored her. He lifted a muscled leg over the red windowsill, and climbed into the courtyard. She watched him lope over the white stone floor to the far wall. He scaled the brick rampart with ease as though born to it, and she scowled as her Twenty-four-Pleat Jade skirt with its yellow flowered border kept her from following him.

She rushed back inside, forgetting to totter, and detoured through the concubine’s quarters and into the main hall. All of the chief administrators were gathered and some of His Majesty’s finest warriors. Captain Chi Quan was there, and now he turned to exit the arched doorway. Li chased him, only remembering at the last moment to totter like a duck, until she sighted the wide-opened main gates. A messenger on horseback galloped toward the Forbidden City, approaching fast. The red tassel on his peaked helmet indicated his Imperial status; he was one of those left to guard the great earthwork barricade when Quan headed south to deal with the pirates. That was how magnificent he was. When the Imperial Navy failed, it was Captain Chi Quan His Majesty had turned to. It was Quan who had crushed the villainous pirate Choi.

With a puff of white dust the horseman reared to a halt. “They have breached the western pass at Jiayuguan. The Mongol horde is coming!”

He Zhu grabbed the reins of the new arrival and handed them to a waiting soldier.

Quan stared. “When?”

“Four days ago. They’re pillaging the villages. We need more forces.”

“How many sighted?”

“Five hundred. Maybe more.”

Quan nodded to Zhu to lead the messenger inside. He went to the gateway to survey the city. The citizens were panicking.

“Send men to restore order,” he commanded a junior officer. Then he turned to march back to the palace. Li was still standing in the middle of the public square, frozen in her flowerpot shoes. She was shaking, but the shaking wasn’t fear. She wanted to fight. The steely eyes of Chi Quan found her. “Go inside,” he said. “This is no place for a concubine.”

For the first time, Li’s admiration for him crumpled into annoyance. She hadn’t slept with the Emperor; therefore she wasn’t technically a concubine.

“Wait,” Quan said. “What is your name?”

“I don’t see how that matters as I am only a concubine.” Li dutifully swivelled to face him, but resisted lowering her eyes, knowing she played with dragonfire.

His silence was deafening, and then he laughed. “I know you. You’re the Lady Jasmine’s niece. Well? Am I right?”

“You know you are right, Captain,” she answered.

“So, the minx has a voice.”

“Are you insulting me, Captain?”

Quan studied her face before replying. “I don’t believe so. I am telling you that I think you are very beautiful, though you do have a mouth on you. His Majesty is a lucky man.”

Li wanted to smile, but she was too annoyed with him. A ruckus at the throne room’s door sent both of their eyes to the palace.

“Another time then. Go inside.” He turned to his men who awaited his orders. “Close the gates.”

%%%

Li entered the concubine’s wing but before she reached her bedchamber, Jasmine appeared from her own room dressed in a snowy white gown.

“Thank goodness,” Li said. “I thought you’d been bewitched by Lieutenant He Zhu’s jade spear.” She threw out her arms and hugged her dearly. “But aren’t you taking a huge chance? You belong to the Emperor.”

Jasmine fended her off when it looked like Li was going to smother her in another tremendous hug. “We all belong to the Emperor, Lotus Lily. Never forget that.”

“And if he finds out?”

“That’s for me to worry about.”

“I saw you turn into a fox.”

“Nonsense. I didn’t know it was you standing in the doorway. I thought it was someone else so I grabbed my furs and slipped out the window.”

Li frowned. Why would she do that? If someone other than herself had caught one of His Majesty’s warriors in Jasmine’s bed, wouldn’t the reason for him being there be obvious? Li huffed. “Why do you all think I’m so stupid?”

“I didn’t say that you were. And who else implied you were stupid?” Obviously Jasmine expected no answer because she turned her back to walk away while still speaking. “Don’t you realize what trouble I’d be in if I was found with Lieutenant He Zhu?”

Li twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Do you love him?”

Jasmine pivoted on her silk slipper, sighed, and said, “What does love have to do with anything?”

%%%

He Zhu scowled, his sword arm trembling, while Captain Chi Quan clapped a hand on his wrist. In the audience hall, they and the messenger from the northern frontier waited with Grand Secretary Ju Jong and His Majesty’s eunuch Tao. The latter clucked his tongue like the lieutenant was a brainless boy. “We must barter with them. It’s all they want. They only want the opportunity to pay tribute to His Majesty, our supreme Son of Heaven.”

China was being laughed at by the outside world. Why else were the Mongols attacking? They wanted Chinese goods, porcelain, silks and food. They thought nothing of paying His Majesty a kowtow or two and a few horses and squirrel pelts. The tribute system was digging deep into the Imperial pocket and there was nothing left to train new soldiers for the military. Quan knew of the riches that had been accorded to barbarians in the past. All they had to do was pay a paltry tribute and prostrate themselves before the Son of Heaven. In return, they were bedazzled with silver, suits of royal robes, hawks, geese, various delicious nuts and dried fruits, and fine ceramic dishes. Was it any wonder that the coffers were strained? But those days were past. Unfortunately, the Mongols refused to believe it.

“If we trade, if we welcome their tribute gifts, we can live in peace,” Tao said.

Zhu snorted. “Don’t you believe it. We’re a laughing stock. The savages leave the palace gates with their arms full of our luxuries and for what? For tapping their heads to the floor.”

Quan nudged his lieutenant to silence. Now was not the time for scrapping with the Emperor’s eunuch. No amount of deliberating would do any good unless they were cool and rational. Going blindly into an attack could result in decimating what was left of the army. The Emperor, who was prone to conspiracy paranoia, had recently silenced some of his best generals. The last had been forced to commit suicide.

“His Majesty awaits in the throne room,” Grand Secretary Ju Jong said. “Go and see if he is ready for us, Tao.”

“What’s with the eunuch?” Quan whispered as Tao shot Zhu an inimical look, before departing.

Zhu shrugged. “Damned if I know. He seems to take issue with me every time we meet. I don’t even know why he’s here. Isn’t he the little concubine’s tutor?”

Tao returned before Quan could answer and led them into the presence of the Ming Son of Heaven. His Majesty was short with them. He had only one thing to say. “Go to the Mongol leader and bring him to me.”

The troop rode through the city, flying the Imperial banner of green and yellow, following the main road into the countryside. The panic had died. People had returned to their tasks of buying and selling, and manufacturing goods and tilling the fields, and tending the livestock. Chickens and pigs scattered to make way for the horses. The soldiers rode only a short distance before signs of the Mongol attack appeared. Men killed defending their crops sprawled over the fields, while women, the survivors of rape, wept over their corpses. Further on, the ground was littered with broken shafts and a child’s wooden ball lay on the ground, pierced by an arrow.

A horseman emerged in the near distance and He Zhu nocked an arrow. He would have let fly a volley of arrows if Quan hadn’t stopped him. A sad melodic note floated over the hill from a piper’s flute beyond the solitary rider, and Quan recognized the barbarian’s gloomy music. The Mongols were camped just over the ridge. He nodded to one of his less brash men to take a message to the horseman, while his remaining soldiers positioned their bows to deter an ambush.

Minutes passed, then an hour. The cicadas chirped in the nearby mulberry trees; the Emperor’s green dragon flapped in the wind. Crows flocked on the edges of the trampled grass looking for a free meal. Wherever the brass of soldiers gleamed, there was carrion. Not this time, Quan hoped. The messenger returned alone. Quan opened his mouth to question his man, but just then the warlord appeared over the rise with a company of five hundred, weapons down. Their intention appeared mercantile, not military, and he motioned his men to stand back.

“I don’t trust them,” Zhu whispered, reining in his excited horse. “You saw what they did to those peasants.”

“Steady, Zhu,” Quan warned. He motioned the warlord to approach and informed him that the exalted Son of Heaven wished an audience with the lord of the Mongol tribes. “You won’t need all of these men,” he said, indicating the armed convoy. The warlord looked at him suspiciously. “We are well aware of what your warriors are capable if you don’t return. Send the men back to the steppe and take only a few as escort. Your life is in no danger. I’ve been ordered by His Majesty himself to guide you safely to the Forbidden City.” Quan gave his word as an emissary of the Emperor. The warlord frowned, then agreed. Fully escorted, they were delivered to the palace by nightfall.

The Mongol embassy was conducted directly to the Imperial banquet hall. There, the barbarians’ eyes met an incredible sight. The court’s finest porcelain was laden with geese, fowls of all kinds, roasted meats, fresh and dried fruits, filberts, walnuts, peeled chestnuts, and garnishments of lemons, garlics and onions pickled in ginger. The Emperor’s choicest liquors filled exquisite porcelain bowls, which were immediately served by his most luscious women.

What was this strategy? Was His Royal Highness planning to get the barbarians stuffed so full of food, so hedonistically drunk that he could kill them? Quan took a seat next to He Zhu and noticed that some of the Imperial concubines were also present. He recognized Jasmine at once. Beside her was her pretty niece. He smirked at the memory of his last encounter with the brazen girl. She had refused to give her name.

Although the food for the guests was already laid out, the Emperor’s was not. The savoury aromas of
his
feast arose from behind a yellow satin curtain. A few minutes later, to the accompaniment of an orchestra, the twirling of ceremonial umbrellas and fantastic displays of acrobatics, the royal feast was brought before His Majesty. Quan shook his head. He could see Grand Secretary Ju Jong do the same. What was this going to cost? Maybe He Zhu was right, and they should have let fly a barrage of arrows and killed every Mongol horseman they saw.

BOOK: The Pirate Empress
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