The Pirate Empress

by Deborah Cannon

  Ju Jong refused to write the letter. After Quan borrowed a quill to write it himself, the grand secretary balked at forging the Imperial signature. Quan understood. Ju Jong should be blameless if the plot failed.

  Quan forged the signature himself.

  The envoy returned to the steppe with His Majesty’s reply. Esen was outraged. He launched a full-scale attack on Xuanfu and on as many of the other border towns as he could reach; the invaders pressed as close as the suburbs of Beijing. Military Governor Zheng Min managed to reinvent the outcome of the raids to sound like the Imperial Army had, once again, brought the warlord to his knees. The lies were accepted as truths and the military governor’s men calmed the panic in the city.

  %%%

  “What treachery is this?” the Emperor roared when he learned of the attacks. “I invite the warlord to trade and this is how I’m repaid?

  Someone had taken it into their own hands to defy the Son of Heaven and handle the Mongol invaders themselves, and Jasmine knew who it was. The dashing and arrogant young captain, Chi Quan.

  “Treachery, indeed, Majesty,” she said. “And who was it that you entrusted to write the message to the Mongol leader?”

  “That miserable scoundrel of finance. Bring him to me!”

  Ju Jong was placed under house arrest and delivered to his sovereign.

  “You deliberately misrepresented me? You denied the Mongols permission to pay me tribute?”

  “It was not tribute, sire, that they were demanding. They want our food.”

  “And so because you deny them trade with us, they take it anyway.”

  Ju Jong was shaking.

  “Majesty,” Quan said boldly from the doorway. “I request permission to approach.”

  At the Emperor’s nod, Quan passed the stone Lion Dog statues with their curled balls for feet, and stood between the yellow pillars of the throne and bowed.

  “I thought if I detained the warlord by entangling him in bureaucracy, I’d buy us time to muster a functioning army. A few months delay in giving him an answer would have allowed the cruel fingers of winter to seize them by the throat. Hunger would take its toll, reducing the barbarians from arrogant raiders to snivelling beggars. Believe me, Majesty. Grand Secretary Ju Jong had nothing to do with my disastrous plan. It’s true I asked him to write the letter, but he adamantly refused. So I rewrote the message and forged the Imperial seal myself.”

  “How dare you! Do you know what the punishment is for treachery?”

  “I do,” Quan said, dropping his head. “I exist only for His Majesty’s survival.”

  The Emperor was about to pronounce judgement on him, which Jasmine knew meant certain death. She held up her hand. Everyone stared at her. They no longer questioned her authority and she smiled at the revelation. “An ingenious plan,” she said. “No need to build walls, no need for an army, no need for trade. I say we congratulate the captain on his brilliant strategy—despite its failure.”

  “My failure,” Quan said, “was in overestimating the intelligence of those barbarians. I should have known they couldn’t be civilized and follow rules.”

  Jasmine beamed. “We need the captain, Highness. In all the Middle Kingdom, there is no finer warrior than Chi Quan. We need his smarts and his valour, and his military skill.” She turned savagely on Ju Jong. “The grand secretary on the other hand is completely to blame for this debacle. He should have reported the captain’s intentions as soon as he knew of them.”

  “But I told Quan that I would never defy you, Highness. I am loyal. I am Your Majesty’s man, heart and soul. Please, sire, have mercy.”

  Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “The grand secretary begs for mercy? Whatever for—if you have done nothing wrong?”

  “I have done nothing wrong. I swear.”

  Quan swallowed. “Punish me, Majesty. I’m ready to take whatever you choose to give.”

  “Such a stalwart soul. His loyalty is obvious.” Jasmine cast a glance at the snivelling financial advisor cowering at her feet. “This one however... How can you ever trust him again?”

  “Take him to the public square,” the Emperor bellowed.

  With his weapons confiscated Quan had nothing with which to defend the hapless grand secretary. Even had he weapons, he could not use them. His fealty prevented him from doing so. Jasmine smiled. Yes, the captain’s heart would soon be hers.

  %%%

  In the courtyard, a number of soldiers and palace eunuchs gathered. The grand secretary was dragged to the middle of the square. There, a red-hot cylinder about the size of a small child waited. It was inscribed with His Majesty’s title: Son of Heaven. The Chinese characters glowed an eerie orange. Jasmine stood at the Emperor’s side.

  No one noticed Li behind the green pillar. She shrank back so that she was invisible.

  The grand secretary was made to kowtow repeatedly. He begged for mercy, but His Majesty remained grim while Jasmine’s beautiful face creased into vile pleasure. What was about to happen? What had the grand secretary done to require him to debase himself like this?

  “So, you are devoted to the Son of Heaven?” Jasmine asked.

  “Yes, yes,” Ju Jong implored.

  “Then take his burning emblem. Hug it as you would hug your own emperor.”

  His eyes stretched wide with horror, and Li’s opened just as wide. Surely they couldn’t force him to do such an atrocious thing.

  “What are you doing here?” Tao asked her in an angry whisper. “Go back inside.”

  “But Tao, they are going to torture Grand Secretary Ju Jong. Someone must stop it.”

  “No one can stop it; least of all you. Come with me, immediately.”

  She tried to resist, but he was stronger, and she didn’t want to make a scene. He warned her if she drew attention to herself, she could be next. She caught Jasmine’s eye for a brief second and shuddered. On her aunt’s face was a glow of exultation, of supreme triumphant glory. She had only seen such a look on Jasmine’s face once before—the time she caught her in bed with Lieutenant He Zhu.

  Tao dragged her back to her chamber, rebuking her at every step under his breath. “Foolish, foolish girl. Do you want to get yourself killed?”

  Li grabbed the sleeve of Tao’s robe. “They would do that to me?”

  “If Jasmine gets her hands on you, I fear she’d do worse.”

  “What will happen to Ju Jong?” Li asked, her voice quaking as Tao dropped her to her bed.

  “He will be forced to hug that red hot cylinder until he dies. And if he refuses to do it of his own free will, he’ll be strapped to the burning metal until he is fried to death. Is that what you wanted to see?”

  A scream to chill the blood came from the public square. Tao clamped pillows, one on either side of her head, to block her ears. It seemed an eternity before he released her head and allowed her to hear again. The smell of fried flesh, like sweet barbecued pork, drifted in from the courtyard into her bedchamber.

  “It’s over,” he said, rising to unshutter the windows.

  Li wiped a steady stream of tears from her eyes and swallowed several times to keep her stomach from heaving its contents. The saliva wouldn’t stay down. It kept threatening to rise into her mouth and make her regurgitate.

  Tao watched her. He made no attempt to soothe her or speak to her. In her whole life, Tao had never babied her.

  “Are you done?” he asked when she had sniffed her final sobs. He patted her hand and sighed. “Your tears are for Jasmine, I know. Forget her. She’s dead, as dead as Ju Jong is now. Take comfort in the fact that they will never again be tormented by the fox faerie.”

  “How did she kill her?” Li asked quietly.

  “I don’t know. I only know that one day Jasmine was your aunt and the next she wasn’t.”

  Li gulped and sipped the water that Tao brought to her in a ceramic cup. “Why did she do that to Ju Jong?”

  “He was a danger to her.”

  “But he was so meek. He was harmle
ss.”

  “She couldn’t win him over. There was always the possibility that she’d lose control of His Majesty for a split second, that he might listen to his life-long financial advisor. The city’s coffers are all but empty because of the wanton spending in order to impress the foreign invaders. Starvation is not far from the door, but you wouldn’t know that living in the palace. The grand secretary was trying to keep the Empire economically intact.”

  “But if she bewitched His Majesty, couldn’t she bewitch Ju Jong, too?” Jasmine’s power was far-reaching, and Li remembered too well Lieutenant He Zhu’s adulation of her aunt.

  “Ju Jong was a eunuch. She had no power over him.”

  “That’s why she has no power over you either!”

  “You understand. Her power is in the bedchamber. That’s how she binds men to her will and feeds on them.”

  Li inhaled, exhaled shakily. “Master Yun says I must leave the palace.”

  Tao touched her hand. “He’s right. Jasmine has her eye on you and I don’t like the look on her face while she watches.”

  “Where will I go? When can I leave?”

  “Where you go is up to Master Yun. When you go depends on His Majesty. You are not quite ready to be a warrior, Li. You need to master weaponry. But you’re as strong a girl as any of the boys you’ve been training with. You can help to build a wall.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Fox Faerie

  Ever since she had bound the Emperor’s heart and body to her side, the other palace women avoided her, and that included her erstwhile niece. In front of a polished silver mirror, Jasmine admired her reflection—very pretty, indeed—before she transformed into the fox.

  Slipping out of the open window into Lotus Lily’s courtyard, she leaped over the lily pond, onto the arched bridge and up over the stone wall. The city folk noticed nothing amiss about the fleet-footed fox sailing along their streets, dodging houses and sheds, chickens and pigs, and carts loaded with vegetables. She headed for the outskirts of town across the fields and parklands to the north, over the streams and lotus-filled lakes, past the pagodas and villas and temples, and beyond the clustered ramshackle settlements of the poor.

  The terrain was mountainous and she flew on all fours, swallowing ground, sending dust flying. She forged through the scrubby land until she reached the earth rampart that was eroding away. From there, she scoured the scene. Swathed in yellow mist, the familiar range of Black Mountains snaked, rolling in sharp peaks and valleys like a dragon that had fallen from the sky. Below the next ridge, several miles away in a shallow vale, she sighted the warlord’s encampment. The haunting tune of a barbarian’s flute pricked her ears. Clustered beneath the shadow of the foothills, the felt tents of the tribe ranged against a reed-filled lake. She followed the melodic notes of the flute into the camp.

  She sniffed, listened outside the wolf-skin door, and then slipped into the tent. The golden fox alighted with barely a click of nails on the hard earth floor. Her glittering stare transformed from those of a beast to the sultry kohl-lined gaze of the concubine.

  “Hello, Esen,” she said, standing before him in her woman form and shaking out the folds to her snowy white gown. The startled man was seated cross-legged on his sleeping furs, a young, naked girl performing oral sex in his lap. “Is this a bad time?”

  The warlord rose, dumping his lover onto the floor. The girl scrambled to dress and he hustled her out, all the time making assurances that it was the bladder of rice wine she had drunk and not a fox faerie she was seeing. The interior of the tent was opulently graced with brocaded cushions and pillows pilfered from the Chinese; the felt walls were lined with hangings of colourful satin. The silk robe covering the fleeing girl was one of China’s finest. Jasmine shook her black hair, the mirth bubbling to get out. “So, my lord, this is how you entertain yourself while I’m at the Chinese court?”

  The Mongol scowled, dressed roughly, not caring what she saw. “I want that girl—Lotus Lily. Why have you not brought her to me?”

  “I came to tell you that you have nothing to worry about concerning the prophecy. Lotus Lily is still a virgin, and I see nothing in the offing for her in the way of a man. I will bring her to you when the time is right. Stop with these petty raids, Esen, you are wasting men and arms. The time will come when you will need all of your forces. You cannot demand an invitation to the Forbidden City, and even if you were successful in gaining an audience with the Emperor, you couldn’t kidnap Lotus Lily. Something protects her there. But I feel that force weakening, and when the opportunity arises, I’ll bring her to you. Now go. Pack up your camp and move it farther away from the capital. Your presence here makes Captain Chi Quan nervous.”

  “A nervous captain is a captain under my control.”

  “Do you want the girl or not?” Jasmine demanded.

  Esen allowed a smile to erase his scowl.

  “So, where is your pretty little brother?” she asked, changing the subject.

  He went to the door of his tent and shouted, “Altan! Get in here.”

  A lean copper-skinned warrior entered the tent wearing a single black pigtail and a leather falconer’s glove on his left hand. He bowed mockingly as he addressed her. “You have news?”

  “I came to tell your brother to prepare for war, but first he must move his camp.”

  The warlord cracked a smile as he winked at his younger sib, and then he threw wide his tent furs to step outside. He strode out into the afternoon sun while Altan remained behind, and Jasmine pinned the elder with a dark gaze. The oaf was strutting his stuff like one of his roosters, voice blaring like a Chinese trumpet, summoning all to prepare to move.

  Amused, she turned to his baby brother who was watching her with lustful eyes. “You play with dragonfire,” she whispered, and inhaled deeply, before leaping on him like an animal in heat.

  %%%

  This time, Captain Chi Quan had no intention of announcing his arrival on Mongol turf with the rattle of drums or an army of hundreds of thousands. He needed only a small detachment, but to beat the Mongols at their own game, he would have to fight dirty.

  Three days after Esen’s raid on Xuanfu, Quan was ordered by His Majesty to lead four thousand handpicked horsemen on a two-day ride into the western plains as far as Red Salt Lake on the edge of the Ordos Desert. No nomadic warriors blocked their arrival; Quan saw only a settlement of felt tents where Mongol women innocently fetched water, washed clothes, cooked, minded livestock and processed hides, meat and milk—totally unaware of the menace stalking them.

  Zhu nocked an arrow; Quan raised a hand to stop him. Too late, the arrow flew into the camp and killed an old woman carrying a bladder of water. All four thousand horsemen took Zhu’s shot to be the signal for attack, and because only a small force of guards had remained to protect the settlement, they were soon overcome. None of the camp stood a chance, and no one—old, young, woman or child—escaped the wrath of the Emperor. The Mongols’ tents lined the lake, blocking escape by water. Hundreds were killed. The tents were looted and burned. Their camels, horses, cattle and sheep were captured as booty. The ground ran liquid with blood beneath the red wheel of the sun. The soldiers swarmed over the camp like beetles and then were replaced by crows. Stripped flesh from human bones hung in the brittle branches of trees.

  When word reached the Mongol warriors in the south, they rushed home to their womenfolk only to be ambushed. Arrows flew and blades clashed, and those who escaped the Emperor’s vengeance fled north. It was now October. The wind howled and temperatures dropped to freezing. Robbed of shelter, food and weapons in a land where winter came early, Esen’s barbarians were finally crushed. The annihilation of the Mongol settlement had taken several weeks and had strayed horribly from Quan’s original plan; and although he was mortified by the massacre of women and children and elderly, the end result was just. A stop to the Mongol raids. The remaining barbarians would starve.

  He Zhu was triumphant as they returned to Beijing
. When His Majesty learned of their victory, the lieutenant was hailed as a hero. Now, was the time to build walls: with the Mongol terror at bay they had the freedom to link the ramparts from the mountain passes of Jiayuguan in the west to the Yellow Sea in the east. To Quan’s surprise, His Majesty agreed. He was tired of barbarians and wanted, once and for all, to keep them out.

  %%%

  Master Yun looked up as a golden fox hurled itself across the Koi Gardens onto the curved red roof of his temple. Should he trap her like the beast she was? She was fast, faster than any creature he knew, and smarter.

  “Jasmine,” he said. “What game is this that you play? Do not pretend that you are faithful to the Emperor when I know you belong to Esen. Why didn’t you warn your Mongol master of Chi Quan’s ambush?”

  The fox flitted her tail, lifted her regal head and wrinkled her nose at him. With the death of thousands of Mongols and peacetime here, his power waned. He must hide the extent of his weakness. A flash of gold leaped off the red-curled roof and slipped inside the temple door. Master Yun rose. The Koi Temple was sacred; the fox was the fish’s enemy. She had no power in the vicinity of the Jade Fountain.

  He walked to the temple and went inside. What he saw by the fountain nearly gagged him. He was wrong about her abilities; the fox had transmuted into a beautiful, fair-skinned woman, eyes sparkling.

  “Master Yun,” she said, bowing mockingly. She swayed her provocative hips, swishing the white satin of her skirt, and stroked her ebony hair across her bare breasts as she moved. She leaned up against his chest until the scent of jasmine blossoms teased his nose, before sweeping back her hair to expose a duo of pale, ginger-tipped breasts.