Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon

by Carole Wilkinson

  Eventually the shaman and seers filed out of the chamber with grim faces. The guards led Ping in. Liu Che sat with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. His hair was now arranged in a neat knot and he was wearing a yellow gown with a pattern of black spirals embroidered around the hem and cuffs. He didn’t smile when Ping knelt before him.

  “How is Kai?” he asked.

  “He has an upset stomach.” Ping tried to sound confident. “I’m sure there’s nothing to be worried about.”

  Her reassurances didn’t remove the creases from the Emperor’s brow.

  “I will send for the imperial physician at Chang’an,” he said. “He may have suggestions for how to treat Kai.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Ping said. “I’m more concerned about his safety than his health.”

  “What do you mean? Kai is safe here at Ming Yang Lodge.”

  “That’s what I believed.” She paused before she continued. “Last night I saw the necromancer.”

  The Emperor looked surprised. Ping wasn’t sure he understood who she was talking about.

  “The man who tried to kill me on Tai Shan. He tried to take Kai.”

  “You saw him?” the Emperor stammered. “Where?”

  Ping didn’t answer immediately. No one had seen her creeping around the night before. She could easily have lied and said she’d seen him in a different part of the lodge. But she didn’t think it wise to risk offending Heaven any further by lying.

  “He was in the Hall of Peaceful Retreat.”

  Liu Che glared at her.

  “When was this?”

  Ping couldn’t look him in the eye.

  “Perhaps three hours past midnight.”

  The Emperor drew his mouth into a thin line.

  “You have exceptional freedom here at Ming Yang Lodge, Ping. But it seems you are determined to try my patience by sneaking into the few places you are forbidden to enter.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ping bowed her head to the floor. “I didn’t mean to disobey Your Imperial Majesty.”

  “So you accidentally stumbled into the Hall of Peaceful Retreat in the middle of the night?”

  “No, but I didn’t set out to go there. That’s where my feet led me. I didn’t realise it then, but my second sight was drawing me there.”

  The Emperor stood up. Ping could feel him towering over her.

  “I know I deserve punishment, but the necromancer was here in the lodge. He tried to take Kai. He must have been spying on us. It would be easy for him, he’s a shape-changer.”

  She expected the Emperor to call for the captain of the guards immediately. But he didn’t.

  “Why were you at the tower last night, Ping?” he asked in a calm, cold voice.

  “I … I don’t know. I wanted to get as far away from the necromancer as possible. Kai ran up to the Garden of Secluded Harmony. I followed him.” The Emperor didn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation. “The necromancer thinks Kai belongs to him,” Ping persisted. “He must be captured.”

  Ping could see Liu Che’s thoughts were going in a different direction.

  “You were there when the tower fell?”

  “Yes. I saw the lightning strike the tower as surely as if it was aimed straight at it.”

  The Emperor was silent.

  “It’s unfortunate about the tower,” Ping said. “But you must think about Kai. He has to be protected. The necromancer could still be in the gardens.”

  The Emperor nodded slowly. Ping didn’t see him make a sign, but the captain stepped forward none the less.

  Ping was expecting Liu Che to order the captain to set guards outside the Dragon Quarters or to conduct a search of the grounds. He didn’t do either.

  “Bring me the guard who was supposed to be on duty outside the Hall of Peaceful Retreat last night,” he said.

  The captain hurried out.

  “What did you do in the Longevity Council’s chambers, Ping?”

  “I looked at the dragon-keeping books,” Ping said, fiddling nervously with her purple ribbon of office.

  “I suppose your hands just happened to rest on them.”

  “I want to know all there is to know about dragon-keeping,” Ping replied. “So that I can properly fulfil the role Your Imperial Majesty has given me.”

  “Books are to be read by scholars, not just anyone.”

  Ping sat back on her heels and looked the Emperor in the eye. “I am not just anyone. I am the Imperial Dragonkeeper.”

  Ping saw anger flash in his eyes, but his mouth remained clamped tight.

  “I am not trying to keep the contents of the books from you, Ping.” His tone changed. He was trying to sound friendly, but his anger was still there, like soup simmering in a lidded pot. “You haven’t learned enough characters to be able to read a book yet.”

  “I thought I might be able to gain a little knowledge from them.”

  “A little knowledge is dangerous,” the Emperor said. “I planned to give them to you when you were able to read them. I thought that Princess Yangxin would go through the books with you. But you offended my sister.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset the Princess.”

  “You don’t mean to do a lot of things, Ping, but somehow you end up doing them.”

  “I’m truly sorry I’ve added to your worries, but I was concerned about Kai. I wanted to learn more about raising a young dragon.”

  The young Emperor was silent for a while. Then he nodded. “I will send the books to the Dragon Quarters, Ping, and I will ask Dong Fang Suo if there is someone we can spare to help you read them.”

  “You are most kind, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  “I have more urgent concerns than a disobedient Dragonkeeper,” he said. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how the seers interpreted the collapse of the tower. The harmony of the universe has been disrupted. I have to meet with my ministers to work out what has offended Heaven so.”

  Kai was asleep when Ping returned to their chambers. He still wasn’t well. His scales were dull, his spines were drooping. Three servants were hovering about the bed.

  “You can go,” she said. “I’ll take care of him.”

  They left willingly. No one wanted to be associated with a sick dragon. If his condition worsened, they would be to blame. Kai looked small and helpless in the big bed. She hoped she was right and he had nothing more than a case of overeating.

  He woke around midday, but though the Dragon Cook had brought an enticing platter of roasted cicadas, stewed worms and sparrow soup, the dragon ate little. He lay on his back with his feet in the air so that Ping could rub his stomach.

  There was a knock at the door and a servant let in one of the junior imperial ministers who had been taking turns to teach Ping her characters. He was carrying the box of bamboo books.

  “The ministers have finished with them,” he said. “They say you are permitted to read them.”

  The junior minister began reading the dragon books to Ping. She tried to follow the characters, but his finger flew down the columns and she couldn’t keep up.

  The first book was a list of all the Dragonkeepers for three-times-a-hundred years. There were twice-ten- and-three names. The minister read them all out to Ping. They were all males. Ping’s name wasn’t on the list. Neither was Master Lan’s. The last name was Lao Lan, who was Master Lan’s father.

  “Some of the Dragonkeepers had very short terms of office,” Ping said. “What happened to them?”

  “Some were old when they took up the position,” the minister explained. “One died when he fell from the back of a flying dragon. One was executed for allowing a dragon to bite a Prince. One died in some sort of accident.”

  Ping couldn’t help thinking that dragon-keeping was a very precarious profession.

  “There were twelve dragons then,” the minister said.

  Being a dragon was far more dangerous. So many dragons had died. It brought tears to Ping
’s eyes.

  Ping didn’t see Liu Che the next day. He ate in his chambers and was busy with his ministers behind closed doors. In the afternoon the junior minister came and continued to read from the bamboo books. He read out events that were recorded during each Emperor’s reign.

  “When Emperor Shen Jing died, the red dragon dropped a pearl from its mouth. Rays of sunlight shone on him and green clouds floated in the sky.”

  Ping didn’t understand the significance of green clouds. Neither did the junior minister.

  “After Emperor Nan had reigned for nineteen years, there were floods. Wild dragons were seen outside the city.

  Ping wanted to know what happened to the pearl and the wild dragons, but there was no more detail. Each entry was very short.

  “In the first year of the reign of Emperor Gao, the dragons flourished and were happy.”

  “In the spring of Emperor Zhen Ding’s fifth year, the dragons fought in the pool of Wei.”

  The entries stopped when Liu Che’s grandfather took the throne. The junior minister fingered the frayed ends of the string binding the strips together.

  “The last strip is missing. It must have fallen off over the years.”

  “Does it say anything about how Dragonkeepers were chosen?” Ping asked.

  The minister scanned through another book.

  “It says that Dragonkeepers are always drawn from the same families—the Huan or the Yu.”

  “I wonder how Master Lan’s father came to be Dragonkeeper?”

  The minister read further. “According to this, his was just a temporary position as feeder of the dragons until a new Dragonkeeper was appointed.”

  “Was there a new appointment?”

  “No. That’s the last entry.”

  “Does it say where the dragon-keeping families lived?”

  “The Dragonkeeper before Lao Lan was Yu Cheng Gong. It says he came from the village of Lu-lin, near the city of Mang. The Huans have not been Dragonkeepers for many generations. The last Huan keeper lived east of the mountains and west of the River Hong in the village of Xiu-xin.”

  The minister looked up from the book.

  “Your name should be added to the list. What is your family name?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ping.

  “It must be either Yu or Huan.”

  Danzi had told her that Dragonkeepers had only ever come from the same two families, but it had never occurred to her that she must belong to one of them. Was the last Yu on the list one of her ancestors? The thought echoed in her mind. It was some time before she could concentrate on what the minister was saying again.

  Ping didn’t learn much from the bamboo books. She had hoped they would fill in all the gaps in her dragon knowledge. Instead they had only left her with more questions. There were no remedies for sick dragons. In the end she remembered that Danzi had found a drink of arsenic very beneficial to his health. She went to the imperial herbalist and asked if he had any. He gave her three small steel-grey crystals. She dissolved them in water, taking great care not to get any of the mixture on her hands. Arsenic was poisonous to humans, but Kai slurped up the draft with pleasure.

  As she sat in the last of the afternoon sun that streamed through the latticed windows of the Dragon Quarters, Ping thought that she probably had all the knowledge she needed to keep Kai happy and healthy. Perhaps her head actually contained more information about dragons than any book in the Empire.

  Reading the bamboo books had left her with only two questions that she wanted to know the answer to. Was her name Yu or Huan? And where was her family now?

  • chapter seventeen •

  PLANS AND DECEPTIONS

  “The necromancer,” she whispered. “He’s

  somewhere near. I can feel him.”

  “I know,” the Emperor said with a smile.

  A week after the fall of the tower, Ping found herself standing in the largest and most lavishly decorated chamber she had ever seen. The Emperor had sent for her, but the imperial guard didn’t take her to the Chamber of Spreading Clouds. Instead, he lead her to the Emperor’s quarters. It was the first time she had been in Liu Che’s private chambers. One wall was entirely made up of latticework shutters. The sunlight from outside shone through them, making a bright pattern of lotus flowers on the bamboo matting. Through an open door, Ping could see out onto a wide balcony where Liu Che was reclining on a couch. Dong Fang Suo was speaking to him, twisting his ribbons of office anxiously.

  “But I think it is unwise to send another boat to search for the Isle of the Blest,” the Imperial Magician said. “The wreckage of the first boat was washed ashore last week. Good men died.”

  “Build a bigger boat,” the Emperor said. “I have also heard about the fungus of everlasting life that can be found in the mountains beyond the western border of the Empire. Arrange an expedition, Dong.”

  The Imperial Magician looked unhappy, but raised no objections. “Whatever Your Imperial Majesty commands.”

  The Emperor noticed Ping standing in the doorway.

  “How is Kai?” he called out cheerfully. “I haven’t seen him out in the gardens.”

  Ping bowed to the Emperor.

  “He is fully recovered, Your Imperial Majesty,” she replied. “I just wanted to keep an eye on him indoors for a day or two. He can go out again tomorrow.”

  “I’m very pleased to hear that,” Liu Che said. “Come out onto the balcony so that I don’t have to shout.”

  The balcony was as wide and long as three houses put together. It jutted out from the building and seemed to hang in the air high above the gardens. Ping didn’t want to go out onto the balcony. It wasn’t the height that bothered her. She had spent much of her life on top of mountains. It was the flimsy structure that concerned her. She was worried it would collapse and send her plunging down the hillside. Liu Che laughed at her reluctance.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” he said getting up and walking over to the scarlet-painted balustrade, which to Ping’s eyes appeared to be made of nothing more than thin sticks arranged in a geometric pattern.

  “The balcony is held up by strong beams resting on posts made of tree trunks that I couldn’t reach around, Ping,” the Emperor said. “It would support a team of oxen.”

  Ping felt a sudden pain in her stomach but it wasn’t because of her fear of the balcony.

  “The necromancer,” she whispered. “I can feel him. He’s somewhere near.”

  “I know,” the Emperor said with a smile.

  Ping stared at the Emperor.

  “The imperial guards have captured him,” he said.

  Ping didn’t speak.

  “That’s why I summoned you,” Liu Che said. “I thought you’d be overjoyed.”

  “I am pleased, very pleased,” Ping stammered. “I’m just surprised he was caught so easily.”

  “Why? You don’t have a very high opinion of my guards if you think they can’t capture one man who pretends to have magical powers.”

  Ping’s experience with the necromancer had convinced her that his powers were very real.

  “Where is he? Can I see him?”

  “Yes,” Liu Che said. “But only if you’re quick. He is about to be transported to Chang’an.”

  The Emperor laughed at her confusion and pointed down over the balustrade. Ping stepped onto the balcony as if it were made of eggshell. She grabbed hold of the scarlet rail and looked down. A waterfall tinkled cheerfully beside the balcony on its way to a pool far below. But Ping wasn’t admiring the view. In the courtyard next to the pool, a man wearing a cloak was being led from the stables in chains. As the guards pushed him roughly into a wagon (the same one that had brought her to Ming Yang Lodge), he turned and looked up. Ping saw the necromancer’s tattooed face. She clutched her stomach. The guards tied the leather cover over him. The captain shouted an order and the driver flicked the ox with his whip. The wagon rattled off escorted by ten imperial guards. The sight didn’t give Ping as
much pleasure as she thought it would.

  When Ping entered the Hall of Cool Fragrance for the midday meal, the Emperor was looking very pleased.

  “The seers have decided what I must do to appease Heaven,” he said excitedly, as she bowed and took her place. “I am to hold a special festival. Shamans will build a mound made of earth of five colours. Five fires of thornwood branches and fern stalks will be erected on top. Water buffalo, goats and pigs will be sacrificed. I will kneel before Heaven on a mat made from holy plants. White pheasants will be released. Afterwards there will be a feast with music and songs of praise. I will invite the land owners and imperial administrators from nearby. All the villages within a day’s march will receive meat and wine so that my subjects can take part in the festivities and show Heaven that they are happy with my reign. Isn’t that right, Dong?”

  He turned to the Imperial Magician, who was sitting on his other side.

  “That is correct, Your Imperial Majesty,” Dong Fang Suo replied. “Incense will carry our prayers to Heaven. Kai must take part too, so that Heaven can see how happy the dragon is.”

  Liu Che nodded enthusiastically. “My dragon is well, the necromancer is captured, and after the festival all will be put to rights!”

  “I’m sure that Heaven will realise that you are a good and wise ruler,” Ping replied.

  The servants brought out the meal. Usually after she had experienced a foreboding, Ping had no appetite. The Emperor’s happy mood was infectious, though, and the pleasant smells of boiled quail and fried fish with sour sauce made her mouth water. She allowed the serving maid to fill her bowl. Since he was in a good mood, Ping felt bold enough to tell Liu Che about a plan of her own.

  “We have been reading about the old dragon-keeping families,” she told him.

  The Emperor’s servant brought him a single crane’s egg. He turned it over with his chopsticks.

  “I would like to find out if they still exist,” Ping continued. “If something happens to me, you will need to know where to find another Dragonkeeper.”

  “I am sure Heaven will grant you a long life,” the Emperor replied.

  “Even if that’s the case, you will still need to find a new Dragonkeeper one day. Kai will need many Dragonkeepers throughout his long life. I think we should search for the old dragon-keeping families and find out if they have died out. If I could just go to the villages of Lu-lin and Xiu-xin …