Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon

by Carole Wilkinson

  “This will soothe and heal them,” she said.

  “They don’t hurt that much,” Ping assured her, but Lady An insisted that she rub the balm into her scratched skin.

  “You will need something else to wear underneath the gown in the cold weather,” she said.

  “I’ve lived through many cold winters with only a threadbare jacket and trousers,” Ping said.

  Lady An handed her a thick padded undergarment which was made of silk floss sewn between two layers of cloth.

  Ping tried on the gown and the undergarment. They both fitted well.

  She looked into the dim corners of the room. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

  Lady An also gave her an embroidered silk pouch, a pair of silk mittens and a coat to wear over the gown when it got very cold. Finally she gave her a new length of purple ribbon.

  “This is for your imperial seal,” she said.

  Ping tied her Imperial Dragonkeeper’s seal to her belt with the ribbon and looked at her image in the mirror. Only the ministers, the Imperial Magician and the seers wore seals of imperial office. Though she was the highest ranking imperial servant in the lodge, Lady An didn’t have one. Ping ran her hands over her new warm gown. As far as she knew, she was the only female in the entire Empire who wore an imperial seal.

  Lady An opened one of the smaller boxes that was full of hair ornaments and took out a silver comb. From a basket of cosmetics, she took a jar of sweet-smelling oil. She combed the oil through Ping’s hair, showed her how to hold her hair in place with the silver comb and gave her the jar of oil. Ping looked at her reflection in the bronze mirror again. She hardly recognised herself.

  “Would you like some jewellery?” asked Lady An, opening a casket of bracelets and necklaces.

  Ping shook her head.

  “I already look very grand,” she said. “Shouldn’t I look more … simple if I’m visiting peasant villages?”

  “You are the Emperor’s representative. You must dress in the correct way. And you have picked the plainest garment in the whole of Ming Yang Lodge, Ping,” Lady An replied with a smile.

  Ping regarded her reflection, hoping that she could keep the gown clean and uncreased and her hair tidy. She didn’t hear a sound, but she became aware that someone else was in the room. She turned to find Princess Yangxin standing next to the screen.

  “You are going beyond the walls of Ming Yang Lodge,” the Princess said. “I envy you.”

  Ping bowed.

  “Perhaps the Emperor will permit you to come with me.”

  “He won’t. I am an embarrassment to my family. I have to stay confined here at Ming Yang.”

  Ping looked up at the Princess.

  “Take care, Ping.”

  The Princess turned and left the room with a rustle of silk.

  • chapter nineteen •

  BEYOND THE WALLS

  “A girl?” Mr Yu sneered. “How can the

  Imperial Dragonkeeper be a girl?”

  “Who can explain the ways of Heaven?”

  said Dong Fang Suo.

  Now that the necromancer was imprisoned, Ping was looking forward to travelling beyond the walls of the Garden of the Purple Dragon again. She would have preferred to go alone with Kai so they could walk along quiet country paths and she could teach him the names of birds and the uses of plants, but the Emperor wouldn’t hear of his dragon, the last imperial dragon, walking unprotected around the countryside. Besides, the weather had turned bitterly cold.

  The journey didn’t take long to arrange. Two days later, Ping, Kai and Dong Fang Suo were ready to leave. Since they would be staying at inns, Ping had no need to take her cooking utensils. She put her mirror, comb and jar of oil in her new silk pouch along with one gold coin and a few copper cash in case she wanted to buy anything along the way. She tucked Danzi’s scale and a piece of dragon stone shard in an inner pocket of the pouch, not wishing to be separated from these keepsakes.

  A carriage was waiting for them in the courtyard at dawn. It wasn’t a rough wagon like the one she had arrived in, but a fine imperial-yellow carriage with the Emperor’s symbols of a blue crane and a red bat painted on the sides, a canopy to keep off the rain, and shutters that could be closed if it was windy. Inside were cushioned benches and rugs.

  Kai had been excited about the trip until he saw the carriage and the large tan horse that was to pull it. Then he ran and hid in the stables. It didn’t take Ping long to find him. She could see his tail sticking out from under a pile of straw.

  “It won’t be like when we were in the wagon, Kai,” Ping explained, as she tried to lift him into the carriage.

  He wrapped his front legs around one of the wheel spokes.

  “Don’t like wagon.”

  “We won’t be locked in. You’ll be able to get out and run around,” Ping said. “And Saggypants has packed a special box of food just for you.”

  “Saggypants coming?” Kai asked.

  Though the Dragon Attendant spent all his time running around tending to the dragon’s smallest need, he wasn’t very good at playing games. Kai didn’t like him much.

  “No,” replied Ping, “Just you, me and Fatso.”

  “Okay,” said Kai, letting go of the wheel. “Kai go.”

  The driver flicked the reins and the carriage set off. Four imperial guards rode behind them on fine black horses. The Emperor had wanted to send a whole section of guards to protect Kai, but Ping had persuaded him to send just four. Ping smiled to herself as they passed under the southern gateway. She was proud of the high regard Liu Che had for her opinion. She looked up at the three characters that were written on the gateway in gold. She could understand them now. They read Long Live the Emperor.

  Pulled by the galloping horse, the carriage rattled through the Tiger Forest at a fast pace. Ping had hoped that they might catch a glimpse of tigers, but, if they were there, the thunder of the horse’s hooves would give them plenty of warning of their approach. The only animals she saw were deer and foxes and they were far away.

  Once Kai realised how fast the carriage was travelling and that the side shutters could be left open, he was enthusiastic about the trip. He wanted to stick his head out of the carriage so that he could feel the wind in his ears. He climbed over Ping and the Imperial Magician, so that he could look first out of one side of the carriage then the other.

  Dong Fang Suo wasn’t as pleased about the journey as Ping. His smile looked a little forced.

  “Is something wrong?” Ping asked.

  He didn’t answer straightaway. “The Emperor is not entirely happy with the efforts of the Longevity Council,” he said. “He can’t understand my reluctance to risk the lives of his subjects by sending them off into unknown lands and over the Ocean. He thinks we should have come up with more schemes to lengthen his life.”

  “You’re doing your best, Dong Fang Suo,” Ping replied.

  “It is not enough.”

  Ping felt sorry for the Imperial Magician, but she soon forgot about his concerns. Her excitement was growing. Though she was pleased to have a change of scenery, and keen to find where the next Dragonkeeper would come from, it felt as if dragonflies were flitting around in her stomach. She was going in search of her family.

  When they passed through the gate in the wall that surrounded the Tiger Forest and started to travel through fields and villages, Ping pulled the little dragon back inside. He sat on the seat with one ear inside out making low, sad noises.

  “Ping not nice,” he said.

  “It’s Lu-lu’s idea. He doesn’t want anyone to see you,” she told him.

  Ping was happy to go along with Liu Che’s wishes. She could imagine the fuss Kai would cause in every village they passed through.

  Ping picked up Kai’s latest ball. His satin ball hadn’t lasted long. He had shredded it to pieces. One of his attendants had made him a ball made of wound hemp string. That one had proved to be a nuisance, as servants were fo
rever tripping over lengths of unravelled string. Finally someone had come up with the idea of a sturdy ball made of goatskin stuffed with nutshells. So far this one had survived. She threw it to the little dragon and he caught it expertly in his jaws. Then with a twist of his head, he threw it back again. There wasn’t much room in the carriage, but it kept him occupied for an hour.

  It had taken a lot of persuasion for Dong Fang Suo to allow her to bring the rat along. Hua was happy to sleep among the comfortable rugs and cushions. Ping was glad that he didn’t have to spend all his time in a cage; glad he was with her again.

  Telling stories was another thing that kept Kai amused. Ping spoke the words aloud. His understanding of spoken words was much better now, and she only had to stop to explain a few unfamiliar words in her head. Ping told him the stories that Lao Ma had told her when they had worked together at Huangling Palace. Kai liked the tale of the dragon who re-drew the riverbeds with its tail after Emperor Yu had dried up the Great Flood. He also liked the story of the naughty princess who was turned into a frog and imprisoned in the moon. He had heard them many times before, but he still enjoyed them. She asked Dong Fang Suo if he had any stories to tell. He told a long-winded tale about an imperial guard who lost all his money gambling.

  “Ping’s stories good,” Kai said. “Fatso’s stories bad.”

  There were times when Ping was glad that she was the only one who could understand the dragon.

  The village of Lu-lin, where the Yu family lived, was more than five-times-a-hundred li away. It sounded like such a long way, Ping couldn’t believe they would be able to go there and back in a few weeks. Because they were on imperial business, they were permitted to travel on the middle section of the imperial road that was made from flat stone slabs. It was a swift and smooth journey.

  After the third day, Ping was beginning to wish she hadn’t talked Liu Che into allowing her to bring Kai along. He was bored and restless. Hua did his best to help entertain the little dragon. They played a game called Where is the Rat? that Ping had invented. Hua was very ingenious at finding places to hide in the confined space of the carriage. He hid behind cushions, under the hem of Ping’s gown and on top of the sleeping Imperial Magician’s hat.

  Whenever they stopped to eat or to stay the night at an inn, Kai had to shape-change. He could never quite decide what shape he wanted to take. He would start off as a bowl or a bucket, then he would catch sight of something new and change into that instead. Fortunately it was usually dark by the time they stopped for the night and the weary innkeepers didn’t notice that Ping arrived with a pot and left with a pumpkin.

  They spent the seventh night at an inn in the city of Mang. Ping didn’t sleep well. The closer they had got to the village of Lu-lin, the more anxious she had become. The next day she might be reunited with her family. She tried not to, but she couldn’t stop herself imagining what it would be like to meet her parents. As they had travelled, she had managed to keep these thoughts at the back of her mind, but now her stomach was churning like water boiling on a blazing fire. Her feelings about her family swapped and changed. One moment she understood how desperate they must have been to sell her. The next she was angry with them for caring so little about her. She wondered if her mother still thought about her. Did she have brothers and sisters? Did they know about the sacrifice she’d made for them? Or had no one told them that she even existed?

  Lu-lin was a neglected little village surrounded by mulberry orchards. Dong Fang Suo explained to Ping that mulberry trees were grown not only for their sweet fruit, but also for their leaves which were the only thing that silkworms ate. She nodded, but she already knew. The trees’ summer foliage was long gone. The branches were bare and brown and blown by a bitter wind. Ping was glad of the coat Lady An had given her.

  As they approached Lu-lin, a pack of skinny dogs surrounded the carriage barking furiously. The houses were in need of repair. The few pigs were as thin as the dogs, so were the chickens.

  “I thought that raising silkworms was a profitable business,” Ping said.

  “That is usually the case,” said Dong Fang Suo, climbing down from the carriage with the help of a guard.

  “Birdies!” said Kai. His long red tongue licked his lips.

  “Leave the chickens alone, Kai! They belong to these poor people. We’ll have dinner later.”

  Ping looked at the children working in vegetable fields and tending water buffalo. They all had runny noses and hunger in their eyes. Would that have been her life if she hadn’t been sold to Master Lan?

  “You have to shape-change now, Kai,” she said.

  Kai thought for a moment. Ping looked away and when she turned back there was a chicken sitting alongside her. It was much plumper than the ones that were scratching around in the dirt. She was afraid the hungry inhabitants would try to steal it.

  “No, Kai,” she scolded. “Nothing that people can eat!”

  The air shimmered and the chicken turned into a jar.

  The arrival of an imperial carriage accompanied by four guards caused quite a commotion, as it had everywhere they had stopped. The village elder welcomed them, bowing and thanking them for honouring his village with a visit. Children left their chores and came to stare at the visitors. Women came out of their houses to see what all the fuss was about, shielding their eyes from the slanting rays of sunlight.

  The elder sat them in his courtyard and brought wine for the weary travellers. No doubt they sat outdoors because he was ashamed of his humble home. Ping had told Kai to stay in the wagon in his jar shape. She hoped Dong Fang Suo would be quick. She knew the dragon would soon grow tired of sitting still. The Imperial Magician shivered, pulled his coat around him and accepted the wine offered to him. He made polite enquiries about the silk crop.

  “Heaven has not blessed us,” the elder said. “Our crop has been poor for three years in a row. Our trees have been struck by disease. The leaves turn yellow, and brown spots appear on them. The silkworms won’t eat them.”

  “I am sorry to hear of your misfortune,” Dong Fang Suo replied.

  Ping impatiently fiddled with the cuff of her coat while the elder told the Imperial Magician all the remedies they had tried. It was more than an hour before Dong was able to ask after the Yu family.

  “Yes, they live here,” the elder said, “as they have done for many generations.”

  Ping could hear nothing but the hammering of her heart. This was the moment she had waited for ever since they had left the Garden of the Purple Dragon.

  The elder led them to a particularly dilapidated house. Before Dong Fang Suo had a chance to knock, the door was flung open. A man and a woman stood at the door. They were thin and, judging from their worn clothes, very poor, but both were smiling.

  “Welcome, welcome!” They spoke as if they were greeting old friends, but they stood in the doorway, so that it was impossible to get into the house. “We have waited for this moment for so long.”

  They were taking no notice of Ping. Their smiles were all for Dong Fang Suo. She couldn’t understand their excitement.

  Mr Yu was a small man who once might have been as fat as Dong. The fat had disappeared, though, and the skin on his face hung like bags that had been full of grain, but were now empty. Mrs Yu was taller, but had a stooped back which brought her down to her husband’s size. Three small children, all girls, hid behind their mother’s gown. Ping stared at Mr and Mrs Yu, searching for a resemblance—in their eyes, in their smiles, in the way that they moved.

  From somewhere inside the folds of his gown, Dong Fang Suo produced three jujubes. The little girls’ eyes lit up, but they wouldn’t take the fruit.

  “Will you permit your daughters to accept this small gift?” Dong Fang Suo asked.

  Mrs Yu pushed the little girls forward. They took the fruit, ate them hungrily, and then were sent off to feed the chickens. Dong Fang Suo tried to move inside the house.

  “My home is too humble for such honoured guests,�
�� said Mr Yu, standing bowing and smiling in the doorway.

  “A humble home is a palace in the eyes of Heaven,” said Dong Fang Suo, pushing past him. The Imperial Magician was determined to get out of the wind.

  Four older girls were working inside the house. They were bent over a large bowl of steaming water. In the dim light, Ping couldn’t make out what they were doing. They stood up, bowed and started to leave.

  “Please don’t let us interrupt you,” Dong Fang Suo said.

  The girls glanced at their parents and went back to their work. Ping stared at them. Were these girls her elder sisters?

  Mrs Yu didn’t say a word. She just smiled and smiled. Ping couldn’t understand how such poor people could be so happy.

  The house was indeed very humble. It consisted of a single room with a floor of trampled earth, and no furniture, just one ancient mattress and an unlit stove. The wind found its way through holes in the walls. The grey sky showed through the roof. The blankets looked old and worn. Ping had grown used to the comforts and luxuries of the imperial lodge. Even the shepherd’s hut on Tai Shan seemed luxurious compared to the Yu family’s house. Mr Yu invited them to sit on a worn and smelly water buffalo skin on the floor. They were offered more wine. The Yus’ wine was rather sour millet wine that hadn’t been strained properly.

  “You have fine daughters,” Dong Fang Suo said.

  “Yes,” said Mr Yu, dismissing his seven daughters with a wave of his hand. “That is my misfortune.”

  “They must be a great help to their mother,” the Imperial Magician said politely.

  “They are hardworking, I suppose, but unfortunately only one of them is betrothed.”

  Now that her eyes were used to the dim light, Ping could see what the girls were doing. Each one had a pile of white balls in her lap. Silkworm cocoons. A small charcoal fire beneath the large bowl kept the water hot. In fact, it looked close to boiling. The girls soaked the balls in the hot water and then turned them over and over until they found the end of the silk thread. Then they unravelled the thread and wound it onto reels. Ping watched in amazement. Each silkworm cocoon unravelled in one long, unbroken thread. Each thread must have been more than a li long. The girls’ fingers were white and wrinkled from being in the hot water.