The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology)

by Weina Dai Randel

  “He’s under the horse!” someone yelled.

  “He’s dead!” another voice cried out. “He’s dead!”

  Taizi was dead? I raced to the field and forced my way through the crowd. Then I saw him. A man lay on the ground; the imprint of a hoof dented his chest. Blood and dirt plastered his face, while his head was cracked opened like a shattered watermelon.

  It was not Taizi, but all the same, my stomach churned. The polo match had been a gamble for me, but it had been a battle for that man’s life.

  “What the hell are you all standing here for?” Taizi bawled, leaning against a brown horse. “Drummers! Restart the game! I shall send the Tibetans home with their heads between their legs.”

  “Why did you turn left?” Prince Yo, his face red, dove toward the heir and pummeled his chest.

  “My horse was startled.” Taizi blocked another blow.

  “That was not part of our strategy.” Prince Yo’s thick eyebrows knotted tightly. A fire of resentment burned on his face. “You ruined the game. You ruined everything, you idiot.”

  “Swine! You think you’re better than me?” Taizi cursed.

  “What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Where is your brain? Is it sitting on your cock?”

  “Fuck,” Taizi spat. “Stupid horseshit. Fuck.” He lurched forward as though to punch Prince Yo but collapsed on the ground. My heart sank. The heir’s leg was broken.

  “Get them out of here. Both of them!” the Emperor ordered.

  Several ministers raced to take Prince Yo aside, and the Duke and other guards carried Taizi, still fighting, out of the field.

  “Now, let me see…” The Emperor turned to look at the net at the end of the field.

  I glanced at him in surprise. Taizi had broken his leg, but the Emperor did not spare him a glance. The rumor of him deposing the heir must have been true.

  “Shall we cancel the game, my Heavenly Khan?” the Tibetan ambassador asked.

  I was glad to hear that, and the Captain, who had patrolled the grounds sullenly, ordered to remove the carcass of the horse.

  “No, the game must continue.” The Emperor rolled up his sleeve. “I will take my son’s place. When you go home, tell your king a wager is a wager.”

  Protests instantly rose from the ministers. The Emperor was still recovering, and it was unwise for him to lead the team on a polo field.

  “Father.” Prince Ke, his eyes timid, glanced at his mother, who nodded slightly, and cleared his throat. “I can replace the heir. I know how to play Taizi’s position.”

  The Emperor did not seem to hear him. “Anyone else?”

  “Let me try.” A clear, feminine voice came from beside me. I had not turned when Jewel, wearing her veiled hat, sauntered to my side.

  What was she doing? A noble lady, even if permitted to play the sport, did not mingle with a group of foreign men.

  But nobody objected. Then a wave of laughter spread.

  “Go do your needlework. Only wild women from the steppes fight with men,” the Emperor said.

  I did not like it. He should have been angry at her interruption, but he was not. Instead, he looked amused.

  Jewel put her left hand on her waist and thrust out her hip to make a pretty show of her womanly figure. “The One Above All, I do have my reasons. Please allow me to explain. Legend says that when you were ten years old, the Western Turks raided a northern village. You asked to fight the raiders, but your father’s troops told you to stay in the camp. Instead, you led your men, attacked the enemies, and the rest is history.” She smiled. “Isn’t it so that women, like young boys, may surprise others with what they can do?”

  I frowned. It was a clever speech of flattery, but the Emperor would not fall for it.

  But he laughed. “What do you want? I shall grant you any wish other than this,” he said.

  I could not believe what I had heard. Any wish?

  Jewel drew her round fan from her girdle and fanned herself, despite the morning breeze. “Why, the One Above All, my wishes? I wish I had one. I have the adoration of my Emperor. I am the envy of all women. I am the wish all women dream of.” She walked past me. “Is there any wish that would make me happier? Truly, are there any women here, ladies or maids, with titles or without, luckier than me?”

  Certainly, no woman in the kingdom could have been more shameless than her.

  The Emperor laughed again, his whiskers shaking. It was terrible to see him like that. “From now on, I pronounce you the Lady-in-Waiting, a third-degree lady. Now, go…”

  Shock and disbelief overwhelmed me. I could not hear the rest of his words. Jewel had stolen my moment again, and perhaps my reward. That title must have been what the Emperor had had in mind for me.

  I raised my head and met the Noble Lady’s gaze. The sense of defeat filled the space between us. I dropped my head, unable to face her.

  “Now, if you have objections to me playing, may I request the khans finish the game?” The Emperor faced his vassals, who looked at one another in surprise. They were not familiar with the sport, I could tell. But they stood, pulling up their sleeves.

  The drums beat again, and the men raced to the field. But the signs of their defeat were everywhere, the Khan of Tuyuhun lost his mallet the moment he struck, and the Khan of the Eastern Turks gave the ball to the Tibetans.

  The Tibetan players scored. Again and again.

  Everything was over. First Jewel’s trickery, and now the loss of my title.

  “My vassals, come,” the Emperor called out. “I do hope you have entertained yourself. Now I have a surprise for you. You all are aware that a crime was plotted against me last year. Against me! Your Heavenly Khan and the Emperor of Great China!” he bellowed, his face dark, and his forefinger stabbing his chest. “Today, I will show you the fate of a traitor if anyone else dares to plan such an abomination!”

  He dropped his hand, and behind me, the Duke pulled aside the veil covering the box. Inside crouched a girl with a slight frame like a monkey. Wearing a sheer white skirt and a triangular red bandeau, she raised her face, and the bright sunlight illuminated her green eyes.

  She could not have been older than me—probably younger, even.

  I could not understand why the Emperor said she would have the fate of a traitor. She looked innocent, and I could not imagine how she had betrayed him.

  “Now I command you all to look at this slave, and look closely. Remember her face, and never forget her fate, for if you, any of you, dare betray me, you shall suffer the same death”—the Emperor’s voice grew louder—“the death under the hooves of horses!”

  I was stunned, and around me, the ministers, the vassals, and the ladies looked shocked as well, their mouths open wide, their eyes glittering with fear. But I understood what the Emperor was doing. I had heard enough stories from Father to know that emperors often showed the fate of one person in order to warn the others. It was called “killing a hen in order to frighten the monkeys.”

  “Take her!”

  A guard pulled the girl out, threw her on his back, and raced to the field. The bystanders rushed to the side, clearing a path for him. He reached the edge and dropped the girl before the horses and the players. A horn blew, and the drummers began to drum. The horses pranced, and the players raised their mallets.

  They sped across the field. Behind them the clotted turf swarmed like hungry flies. So fast the horses galloped toward the slight figure. Closer. And closer…

  A scream. Long, piercing, and heartrending.

  But the drumming grew louder and louder. Boom. Boom. Boom. The fifes joined. Wailing, long and sharp. And the horse hooves pounded. Clop. Clop. Clop.

  Something loud cracked, like a hard object suddenly splitting open, and the shriek rose even higher, rattling the platform I was standing on, shaking my black veil, shaking the sl
eeves of my new gown, and through the maze of the yellow clouds, I could see black speckles—perhaps turf, or blood, or bits of broken bones—flying into the air like useless, deflated polo balls, and plummeted like birds pierced with arrows.

  Then all the sounds died.

  I retched. And retched again.

  • • •

  Sometime later, the Tibetans danced on the field. They had won. The Emperor walked to them, followed by the ministers. Their heads lowered, the ministers looked grim, and hard as they tried, they could not hide the fear on their faces.

  It was time for the feast. The men exited the field, heading to the banquet hall. The Ladies and Jewel left as well. I lowered my head and lined up behind the Talents. When I passed the bloody smudge in the field, I could not help but look away, and there I caught the sight of the Emperor ahead of the procession. He seemed benevolent, smiling, but his gaze no longer warmed me; instead, it stabbed me like an icicle, and long after his disappearance, the iciness chilled my heart.

  20

  I was not requested to attend the banquet after the polo game. Jewel took my place, sitting next to the Emperor and receiving the vassals’ fealty. I lingered in the courtyard outside, listening to the people feasting and drinking.

  I returned to my bedchamber alone.

  In the days after, I settled back into my routine. The servants passed me without greeting. The Beauties and Graces walked by me without turning their heads. Occasionally, some people peered at me with contemptuous smiles.

  There was no meat in my meals. I ladled the bland yellow bean soup, ate a shallow bowl of millet porridge, and chewed pickled radish. I could not taste anything.

  News came to me that the Emperor had arranged a marriage between a princess and the Tibetan king Srongtsan Gampo after the polo game, and the vassals also appeared obedient. They rallied behind the Emperor as he launched an attack against the King of Gaochang, while the Tibetan king’s army cut off the Western Turks as they tried to aid their ally. The King of Gaochang died on the battlefield, the Western Turks retreated, and the border appeared to be quiet again.

  Plum told me the girl who was sacrificed had belonged to the Rourou tribe from the northwest region. She had been captured as a child, fed only milk, and thus considered pure. Because she also had rare green eyes and pale skin, she made a much prized pleasure toy whom the Emperor kept for years. But the fact that he would discard her like that frightened me.

  I had never before felt like that, fear seeping into my skin and drilling into my bones. What if the Emperor wanted to throw me under the horse’s hooves? I thought of Mother, who would not know what had happened to me. She would still call for me, not knowing I could not hear, not knowing my ears rotted under the ground. Or perhaps, she would raise her head, her eyes filled with love, searching for me, unaware that my hands no longer felt the breeze and my bones had turned to dust.

  Or worse, he would make my family, Mother or Big Sister, suffer such a death too.

  I tried not to think like that. But the saying was right: “Accompanying an emperor is like accompanying a tiger.” I never wanted to be near him again.

  And yet, how could I stay away? My family, and their future, depended on me.

  • • •

  “You’re late.” Under the starlit sky, Pheasant appeared, treading on the path of wild grass near the pavilion.

  “You’re early.” I smiled.

  How good it was to see him. The night garden felt like a home, with the glittering sky for the ceiling, the bushes our rug, and the dilapidated pavilion our bed. Pheasant lit up the place like a heartwarming hearth fire. He was the walls of my sanctuary, the food for my eyes, the scent of a home. He was everything. I wanted to stay there, with him, for eternity.

  “I’ve been thinking of you.” He pulled me close in his arms. “What a horrifying game.”

  “Were you there?”

  “At a distance. He wasn’t always like this, I hope you know. He changed after my mother’s death.”

  We went to sit on the low windowsill of the pavilion. “Did he love your mother?” Many people had said they loved each other, and Empress Wende was a wise woman, a subject of court ministers’ praises.

  He shook his head. “They had disagreements.”

  “About what?”

  Pheasant swallowed. “My mother did not agree with some things he did to his brothers… I don’t know what happened, but Mother mentioned them sometimes. She never said anything to his face, however…but when he was not around, she would let us play in yurts and ask us to put on Turkic clothing, and she would sing us Turkic songs. She believed my father owed this kingdom to her.”

  Empress Wende was a prominent descendant of a Xiongnu tribe, one of the nomads in the north. She was perhaps right that the Emperor owed his kingdom to her. But she was still the Empress of our kingdom. To openly declare and worship her own heritage was scandalous and would certainly have undermined the Emperor’s rule over the Han people. But the Emperor’s own mother, in fact, was also a member of a nomadic tribe, although the Emperor did not allow anyone to mention it.

  “Father also kept too many concubines. Mother was not happy with that either, and there was one particular concubine… She did not like the way he treated her… But Mother died…”

  His voice dropped lower, and I changed the subject. “Taizi’s leg was broken during the game. How is he doing?”

  “He will be fine. Can’t stand. The physicians ordered him to lie in bed. He is angry, threatening to wring their necks when he’s well.”

  “He certainly is capable of doing that.”

  “He’s a good man.” His voice was guarded. “Whatever you’ve heard about him is not true.”

  Pheasant did not understand I was jesting. “What are you saying?”

  “Forget what I just said. I know you don’t mean it. I’m tired of people’s gossip, that’s all. There are people who do not wish Taizi to be the emperor. They spread rumors and say he is unfit for a ruler.”

  “I heard he’s a champion wrestler?”

  “The best kind. No one is better than he.”

  I was quiet for a moment. “What do people say about him?”

  “Many things. Some hold it against him that he did what my mother liked, acting like a Turk.”

  I understood why Pheasant felt the need to protect him. Of course, the heir of the kingdom must remember whom he would rule in the future. “Who is against him?” Pheasant did not look like he wanted to talk about it, so I said, “You trust me, don’t you, Pheasant?”

  “It’s my great uncle. He delivered a speech in the Audience Hall, saying my brother had night parties in a yurt, doing Turkic funeral dances. He said he was out of control, and there are also the other princes…”

  Prince Yo. I touched Pheasant’s hand. “They cannot harm him. He is the heir, your brother. No one can change that.”

  Pheasant breathed out. “I know. That’s what I have been telling myself. I don’t like those gossips at all. Why do people fuss about what my brother does and what he likes? He’s the best man I know! But I’m glad I talked to you, Mei. I’m glad.”

  I was relieved. Together we stood and listened to the song of our heartbeats. The night was too short, and I did not wish it to end.

  Near the hour of midnight, we agreed on when to meet again and also agreed on our secret signal—a small rock. When the rock leaned against the wall, we would see each other; when it lay flat on the ground, it meant one of us could not come that night. Then I left first.

  I climbed up the wall and landed on the other side of the garden. Carefully, I dusted the dirt off my skirt. I had gotten better at flipping over the wall but still needed to be careful to keep my skirt clean, or when I returned to my bedchamber, people might ask what had stained it.

  Leaves rustled nearby, and I raised my head.

&nb
sp; A hooded shadow dashed down the narrow path near the grove. I froze.

  “Who’s there?”

  I ran after it, but the shadow had already disappeared. Blood rushed to my head. Someone was spying on Pheasant and me.

  • • •

  At the end of the month, I did not receive my Talent’s allowance.

  I asked the distribution eunuch what happened, and he replied that Most Adored had decided to keep it for me. When I asked Jewel, she smiled and shook her head.

  I knew what was going on. Jewel, knowing I had lost my bet, must have realized it was an opportunity to strip me of my title. I felt sick. The Emperor had not officially denounced me, and I had hoped he would forget about it. After all, he had more important things to do than deal with a low-ranking concubine. But Jewel would not let it go.

  I went to visit the Noble Lady. She was examining a bolt of silk the Imperial Silkworm Workshops had delivered to her.

  “If I were you, Mei, I would make sure Most Adored could not take what belongs to me,” she said after I told her my problem.

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  She dismissed her maids. “Enchant him. Keep his eyes on you. Then his ears will turn to you too, and Jewel won’t have her play.”

  She wanted me to seduce him, but I could still hear the slave’s scream in my ears, and besides, I did not know how.

  “You are young and beautiful. He will like you.” The Noble Lady smiled. “You will succeed.”

  I felt my cheeks warm. “Well…”

  “I shall do anything I could to help you, Mei.” She picked up a piece of yellow cloth and fingered the silk, feeling its texture. “I hope you know that.”

  “I know…my lady.”

  She sighed. “He has long lost interest in me. He no longer summons me for the night. The last time I was in his bedchamber was five years ago. I do not know what he likes now.” She smoothed the silk imprinted with medallions. “And I heard he has changed since he was wounded.”

  “Changed?”

  Her plump cheeks grew pink. “Well, I heard he summoned three women last week, all dancers. You know Lady Obedience? She was there, and they performed…indecently. He did things to them… Never mind that now. But he was still angry, kicking them out without bedding them.”