The Stone Dragon

by Peter Watt

  Tung felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. When he had turned over the banknotes to a court official he had been told he could trust, he was under the impression that they would be deposited in the imprisoned true Emperor’s accounts. But having discovered this was not so Tung felt that he had risked his life for nothing in recovering the stolen money.

  ‘Further still,’ the general continued, ‘it has been allocated to purchase artillery for the Imperial army so that we can better meet the foreign devils as they even now invade the Empress’s kingdom. But I have summoned you here on other matters and we will speak alone.’

  With a gesture of his hand the general indicated for Tung to follow him. Tung rose to his feet and followed his uncle into a building guarded by soldiers, some armed with long spears and others with modern carbines. Inside the room Tung could see that his uncle had staff gathered around a large map displaying the city. Small ivory pieces had been placed on the map, obviously indicating the disposition of the Imperial forces. Another map was affixed to the wall. It was of China itself. Coloured marks indicated what Tung guessed to be enemy forces and he was disturbed to see many marks around the city of Tientsin south-east of Pekin.

  The soldiers in the room bowed respectfully when the general appeared among them. ‘Continue your work,’ he commanded, and the staff busied themselves around the maps.

  ‘I can see that you have understood our current situation,’ the general said, noting Tung’s eyes scanning the map of China. ‘I must complete the destruction of the Europeans in our city before Admiral Seymour gathers reinforcements to march on us.’

  ‘Is it that bad?’ Tung asked. It was only that the feared general was also his uncle that Tung would dare ask such a question.

  ‘We have forced Seymour back,’ the general answered quietly. ‘In a similar situation as we have to here, we have the foreign devils of Tientsin besieged in their compounds. We need to eliminate the thorn that we have in Pekin so that I am able to deploy more forces to face the Admiral Seymour. That is why I have summoned you, honourable nephew.’

  Tung glanced up at his uncle’s normally dour face and saw the slightest hint of a smile. ‘What is it that I can do in your esteemed service, uncle?’ he replied, sensing that his mother’s brother felt some warmth toward him.

  ‘You are one of the very few men I know who has travelled much among the foreign devils and knows their language and ways. I have been informed of how you so resourcefully recovered the Empress’s money and I need a man to command my intelligence service here in Pekin. You will hand over your present command to Commander Han, who has proved himself to be a capable member of the cause to free China. I have been informed that he already has a prisoner of some value to your future work. She is a Chinese woman who was born in the land that you have just returned from and knows the ways of our enemy. She needs to be interrogated vigorously as I believe Han has grown soft towards her. After you have gained as much from her as possible you may dispose of her.’

  … a Chinese woman who was born in the land that you have returned from, echoed in Tung’s mind. Naomi Wong was such a woman. Was it possible that she had fallen prisoner to the rebellion? If so, how?

  ‘I will be honoured to accept the esteemed position as your intelligence commander,’ Tung dutifully replied. But inwardly he was still seething at the suggestion he had returned the money to the Empress when it rightfully belonged to the true Emperor. Tung’s loyalties were being severely tested. He was the imprisoned Emperor’s man but found he was now reluctantly on the side of the usurper Empress working against the foreigners.

  ‘Good,’ the general said. ‘Even now I am having Han summoned to brief him of the situation. You may take up quarters at the Empress’s palace near mine and be at my disposal whenever I need to know what my enemy is thinking.’

  ‘Yes, honourable general,’ Tung said, bowing to formalise his new appointment.

  Just as his uncle had promised Tung noticed a pockfaced man wearing the uniform of a Boxer commander enter the room with one of the general’s aides. Han appeared apprehensive, glancing around the room and bowing deeply when his eyes came to rest on General Tung Fu-hsiang.

  ‘Approach,’ the general commanded and Han respectfully approached. ‘This is my commander of intelligence,’ the general said, introducing Han to Tung. For a second Tung thought he saw murder in the other man’s eyes.

  ‘Honourable general, I have heard much of Commander Tung’s exploits,’ Han said, not looking at Tung.

  ‘You will be honoured by having Commander Tung’s men join your command,’ the general said. ‘You will also send to Commander Tung the foreign woman I know you are holding captive.’

  ‘Honourable General,’ Han began, ‘she is of no worth to our cause, other than as a common prostitute. I do not think that she could provide any more information on the enemy than I have already gained from her.’

  The general frowned, contemplating the Boxer commander’s words.

  ‘What is the name of this woman that you hold captive?’ Tung asked.

  ‘She is known by her European name, Naomi Wong,’ Han replied. ‘She was captured in the days before we laid siege to the European legation.’

  Naomi Wong! It was her, Tung thought with a start. ‘I will still need her, honourable general,’ Tung quietly insisted.

  ‘I agree,’ Han hurriedly said, having realised that the man he had come to hate for upstaging his own exploits was also related to the feared general. ‘Then, I would request that she be returned to me when Commander Tung has decided he no longer needs her services.’

  ‘I consider your request reasonable,’ the general replied. ‘Commander Tung, you may have the woman for five days. In that time you will ascertain if she is of any worth to you and, if so, gain all the information you can from her by any means you wish to employ. After that time, she is to be returned to Commander Han as a reward for his excellent service to our cause. Five days is all you have with this foreign woman, Commander Tung.’

  The Chinese general had managed to balance the exchange between his two commanders, knowing that he must appear to be impartial. The woman was of no consequence but the smooth operations of his many newly incorporated Boxer militia units were of importance to a final victory. To ensure that the Imperial troops and Boxer rebels could work together in the common cause of ousting the foreigners he needed harmony. Besides, he could not see why this woman would be of any real interest to his nephew other than for the intelligence she might be able to provide.

  Tung was able to conceal his emotions and feigned indifference to the general’s direction on the matter. ‘It will be done as you have commanded, Honourable General,’ he replied as if dismissing any further discussion of the matter.

  But Tung’s thoughts were in turmoil. Very soon he would hold captive the woman his two friends had travelled so far to meet and return to her land. What was he to do in that valuable but short space of time? As it was it appeared the defenders on the other side of the barricades had little time left in their own lives. It was only a matter of a final push against them and they would all be inevitably slaughtered – every man, woman and child. Even as he stood in the room allocated as operational headquarters he could see preparations being made for the continuation of attacks on the European legations. According to his calculations there were at least five Imperial armies displayed on the map of Pekin and the area surrounding the city. Such force surely doomed the foreigners behind the barricades to their death.

  As predicted by Simpson, around midnight John was wrenched from a deep sleep by crashing volleys of gunfire all around him and the shouts for men to fall in to their defensive positions.

  Without even having to think John groped for his rifle, rushing to rejoin his American marine friends on the barricades. The fighting seemed without end and the battle had reached an even more vicious level to John’s experienced ears. For whatever reason the Chinese had called a temporary ceasefire it was not because
of any approaching relief force, John thought as he made his way in the dark, guided by now all too familiar landmarks, to rejoin the US marines on the barricades of the Tartar Wall.

  Mid to Late July 1900

  Pekin

  From where Naomi lay on a straw-filled mattress she could hear the resumption of the fighting. At least the sound was reassuring, as it indicated to her that the defenders of the legation were still holding out. A lantern flared in the tiny room that she shared with Han.

  ‘Get up, woman,’ Han’s voice commanded harshly. ‘You are to be taken to the general’s headquarters.’

  Naomi rose to her feet to see Han standing with the lantern. With him were two of his men.

  ‘What is happening?’ she asked.

  ‘You are to leave my company for five days,’ Han replied without any show of emotion. ‘You are to be interrogated by the general’s nephew, Commander Tung. I doubt that he will show the same consideration to you as I have, and if he decides to let you live, you will be returned to me.’

  Han’s warning frightened Naomi. If you could call rape and beatings from Han considerate, what worse could lie ahead? Han’s man stepped forward and seized her.

  ‘Will Meili be going with me?’ Naomi called to Han as the guards marched her from the room.

  ‘She remains,’ Han replied.

  No further words were spoken as Naomi was marched through the courtyard. As terrifying as it had been in Han’s company, she was even more afraid at what might lie ahead. She knew that she had nothing more to offer her Chinese captives and this is what she feared most. What if this Commander Tung decided that she was worthless to him? As she was led away, the sound of gunfire coming from the direction of the legation compound once more rocked the night.

  As the sun rose John rested against the sandbagged wall to check his supply of ammunition. He was satisfied to see that he had spent very few rounds during the hours before sunrise; he and the other defenders had noticed the odd but satisfactory habit of the Chinese to fire high, which had kept down the number of casualties among the defenders. Looking around wearily he saw Simpson moving along the line of his men to speak with each one. When he reached John he greeted him.

  ‘The young marine I have been with over the last few days,’ John said. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He was hit by a sharpshooter just after you left us,’ Simpson answered. ‘I had him evacuated to the hospital. Though I don’t think he will die. Those boys from Maine are a pretty tough lot.’

  John was relieved to hear that the young man had not joined the ranks of the dead. The casualties had been mounting steadily and he had overheard that the number of soldier casualties of all defending forces was now thirty-eight killed and fifty-five seriously wounded. At that rate the dwindling numbers meant they were doomed unless a miracle happened. But since John was an atheist for him such occurrences did not exist.

  ‘I think I will go and visit Private Gilles,’ John said. ‘That is, if you don’t need me in the line for the moment.’

  Simpson shrugged. ‘You are a civilian, Mr Wong,’ he replied. ‘I am sure Private Gilles will be pleased to see you.’

  John cautiously made his way from the barricades. He was hoping to see more than just the young man he had befriended on the barricades. With any luck Liza would be at her post in the hospital.

  Even as John made his way through the shell-pocked streets of small craters and smashed masonry, Naomi was meeting for the first time the man she had been informed would be her interrogator in his quarters within the walls of the Forbidden City, the home of the Imperial court. She stood between two armed Boxers in a wide corridor that opened onto a large marbled room filled with priceless furniture and porcelain vases. Naomi noticed a man with his head bandaged conferring with uniformed officers of the Chinese army. She guessed that he was a relatively senior officer from the way he interacted with the Imperial officers but when she overheard his name mentioned, she realised that he was Commander Tung, her new captor. Having finished his conference with the officers, Tung turned to face Naomi.

  Approaching her at the end of the hall, he ordered the guards away. Now Naomi was alone with the man she could see had a fine, intelligent face. For a short time Tung stood with his hands behind his back and appeared to be examining her as one would a target to be shot. No matter what it took she would not show fear under this man’s relentless stare, Naomi told herself.

  ‘I know your father and brother,’ Tung said softly in English. ‘I consider both of them good friends, Miss Wong.’

  Naomi felt herself falling into a swirling space of empty air.

  ‘I think that you should sit down,’ Tung said gently, assisting Naomi to an ornately carved wooden chest.

  ‘Is it really true that you know my father and brother?’ she asked as Tung passed her a bowl of clean water.

  ‘It is a long story that commences in your country,’ Tung said quietly, still speaking in English. ‘But I last saw your father and brother entering the city many days ago. They were well, and hopefully remain that way.’

  ‘I prayed,’ Naomi said, sipping the water, ‘that my father would come and take me away. But it did not happen and I despaired.’

  ‘Your father and brother are good men and I regret very much that they should find themselves on the other side of the Tartar Wall.’

  ‘Is it possible for you to deliver me to my father?’ Naomi pleaded.

  Tung took a deep breath and sighed. ‘That is not possible for many reasons, Miss Wong,’ he replied politely. ‘I have sworn an oath to the cause of freeing my country of foreign invaders, and to do so would be construed as an act of treachery. But, I also fear that if I did so you may be slaughtered when the legation falls to our forces. I am sure that your father would wish you to remain under my protection with that eventuality a probability. Then, it may be possible to ensure you are able to safely return to the country of your birth.’

  ‘I would risk my life to be with my father and brother,’ Naomi persisted. ‘I beg you to give me the opportunity to do so.’

  ‘I am sorry, Miss Wong,’ Tung said firmly, ‘that is not possible. But I can promise that I will do all that is in my power to get a message to your father of your welfare.’

  Naomi could see that pleading her cause was a waste of time, but was at least grateful for being in the company of a man who appeared to be very different to what Han had intimated.

  ‘I must also caution you,’ Tung continued, ‘that what I have told you must not be spoken of to anyone. It could risk both our lives.’

  ‘I understand,’ Naomi replied. ‘And I thank you for your kindness.’

  ‘I will have to display a public face that you are nothing more to me than a prisoner,’ Tung added. ‘But I also promise you that no harm will befall you while you are under my protection.’

  ‘Han has informed me that I will be returned to him in five days’ time,’ Naomi said. ‘Are you able to prevent that happening?’

  ‘I will do my best,’ Tung answered. ‘It will depend on the whim of my uncle, General Tung Fu-hsiang. In the meantime you will be given a room in this building and I will instruct the guard to ensure you are well fed and not molested in any way. Should you attempt to escape he has orders to kill you. Those are my orders.’

  It was clear to Naomi that although this man appeared so caring towards her at the moment, he was also the enemy and would not hesitate to kill her in the name of the cause he fought for. It was a strange situation but still far better than being Han’s prisoner. Naomi nodded that she understood and Tung called for the guard outside to escort her to her quarters.

  John found Private Larry Gilles sitting on a palliasse with his back against the wall in the improvised ward for the enlisted men.

  ‘Got it in the thigh,’ he said cheerfully, exposing the bandaged leg for inspection. ‘It just passed through without hitting the bone. The doctors say that I will be back with you all soon enough.’

  John offered
the young marine a big cigar he had been able to acquire from Robert Mumford’s stock. Larry accepted the gift gratefully and John lit it for him, at the same time lighting one for himself.

  ‘Don’t be in any hurry to go back,’ John said, puffing a cloud of blue smoke into the cloying, still air.

  ‘Yeah, well I have to get back to my buddies,’ Larry said. ‘I don’t want to die in this place, if the Chinks overrun us.’

  The ward was filled with other soldiers of many nationalities; Italian, German, French, Flemish and English languages all blurred in the building that reeked of cigar smoke, blood and putrefaction.

  John and Larry chatted for a short time until John slipped the marine an extra cigar before bidding him farewell to go in search of Liza. He found her accompanying a doctor on his rounds. Her long dress was covered in blood and wisps of her long hair hung down her face but when she saw John her face was lit with a weary smile of pleasure.

  ‘It is good to see you,’ she said, touching the loose wisps of hair. ‘I have often thought about you.’

  The doctor glanced at John, and then at Liza. ‘How about you take some time off, Miss Gurevich,’ he said, perceiving the change in her demeanour in the presence of the man who had approached them. ‘You have not had a break in the last forty-eight hours.’

  ‘Thank you, doctor,’ Liza replied, and accepted John’s hand to lead her away from this place of suffering.

  ‘I am so weary,’ she said when they had exited the building. ‘I dream of a hot bath and clean sheets – even when I am awake.’

  ‘Funny thing,’ John grinned, still holding her hand, ‘I dream the same things – except I see you sharing both.’

  Liza pushed John’s hand away and blushed. ‘Mr Wong!’ she exclaimed. ‘That is a very brazen thing to say. I do not think that you are a gentleman.’

  ‘I never said I was,’ John answered with a cheeky grin. ‘But I think that you are a true lady.’