The Lazarus Curse

by Darren Craske

  ‘Do you mind if we confer?’

  Quaint waved him on. ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘We must think carefully about this, Matso,’ the guard said, strumming his lips before thrusting his finger into the air excitedly. ‘I have one! Tell us where your secret base is to be found!’

  ‘Teke, you idiot!’ said his colleague. ‘What kind of question is that?’

  ‘Think about it, Matso! If we can discover where his base is, we shall be heroes! Revered throughout the battalion!’

  Matso thumped the top of Teke’s helmet. ‘A laughing stock, more like! If it is a secret base, how are we supposed to confirm that he is telling the truth?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘All right, you ask him a question then!’ sneered Teke, readjusting his helmet.

  Matso poked his spear in Quaint’s face. ‘Why do you hate Master Cho-zen Li?’

  Quaint knew the answer – the real answer, that is – but he knew also that the soldiers did not. The death of Han-Lo’s wife had been the catalyst that had ignited his hatred, but to reveal that would compromise more than he wished. This eventuality forced a degree of flexibility of the truth, a talent that Quaint excelled at.

  ‘Some years ago, your master ordered my village’s crops burned as punishment for our insubordination. An entire season’s work was ruined. My son travelled to this very mountain to exact his revenge and Cho-zen Li’s bodyguard murdered him in cold blood. From that day on I have sworn to destroy the master of the mountain and I will not rest until it is done.’

  ‘What do you think, Teke?’ enquired Matso.

  ‘Well… Mistress Li-Dao has got a very bad temper, and it is certainly the sort of thing she would do.’

  ‘All right, next question,’ said Matso. ‘How long has Cho-zen Li ruled these lands?’

  Quaint puffed out his cheeks. This was another question with an exact answer, and consequently, a difficult one to bluff. ‘No one knows how old he truly is, for he has always been here. When I was a boy, when my father was a boy… perhaps even before then. It’s rather difficult to be specific… you know how the memory fades as you get older.’

  Seemingly satisfied with that response, Teke gathered Matso into a huddle.

  ‘We only have one question left, so we need to make sure it is good.’

  ‘All right! What shall we ask him?’ Matso said.

  ‘I do not know… I thought you might have one.’

  ‘Me? Why me?’

  ‘This was your idea in the first place! Have I got to do all your thinking for you?’

  Matso snapped his fingers. ‘Cho-zen Li’s wife was killed in the palace in a dreadful catastrophe… what was her name?’

  Quaint shrugged. ‘Mrs Li?’

  ‘Ha!’ cheered Teke. ‘Wrong!’

  ‘We win!’ grinned Matso.

  ‘This round, perhaps,’ said Quaint. ‘But by my count, I successfully managed to answer two of your questions correctly. So, shall we go and see your boss now, or shall we make it the best out of three?’

  ‘We do not have time for any more of your tricks, Makoi!’ snapped Teke. ‘We will take you to see our captain, but we are watching you. If you make the slightest move to escape we shall kill you.’

  ‘I handed myself in, remember?’ Quaint said. ‘Why would I do that if I planned on escaping? I hardly think that makes much sense!’

  ‘He is right, Teke. That makes no sense at all,’ said Matso.

  ‘We shall take credit for his capture anyway,’ said Teke. ‘We shall get medals!’

  Quaint tapped his foot impatiently. ‘Listen, boys, as much as I’ve enjoyed this little chat, I really don’t have all day.’

  The two soldiers set off into the darkness of the mine, chattering between themselves about the prospect of being hailed heroes (and not to mention getting some medals) and then Matso stopped dead in his tracks.

  ‘Wait… if Makoi is our prisoner, should he not be walking at the front?’

  Teke nodded. ‘You must think us stupid, Makoi!’

  Quaint sighed. ‘The thought never occurred to me.’

  Chapter XXXI

  The Captive Audience

  Down a winding staircase carved from the rock, Yang and Ruby made their way towards the mine.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Of course! This is how I got in. Several days ago, when Yin and I arrived, we stuck to our plan, and tried to secrete ourselves within the palace. Unfortunately, we stumbled across a brigade of soldiers, and so we fled for our lives. Yin did not flee fast enough. He was captured, but I was lucky. I kept out of sight and as he was led into the mine, I followed him and discovered this staircase, the only safe route down unless you want to scale hundreds of feet of razor-sharp rocks.’

  ‘Cho-zen Li is hardly sylph-like!’ said Ruby. ‘These stairs a bit narrow for him, aren’t they?’

  ‘Oh he never uses them. He has no need to. Rumour has it that he’s not set foot outside the palace walls for hundreds of years,’ said Yang.

  Ruby grinned. ‘Hundreds? You’re kidding me.’

  ‘The other palace servants told me about it. That’s what I need to tell the boss. He doesn’t know what kind of man he is facing.’ Yang’s face darkened as his eyes drifted away from the knife thrower. ‘If indeed, he is a man at all.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Cho-zen Li is really—’ Yang froze like a statue. The sound of raised voices and footsteps echoed from further down the stairs. ‘We have to go back.’

  ‘Back?’ gasped Ruby.

  ‘We have no choice; we will have to take the other route down!’

  ‘But you said this was the only way!’

  ‘No, I said this was the only safe way. Our only option is through the lotus garden and down the outside of the mountain.’

  ‘Climb?’ cried Ruby. ‘Down a mountain? I’m not risking my neck on razor-sharp rocks!’

  ‘You would prefer to risk it waiting right here?’ Yang held out his hand. ‘Ruby, listen to me carefully, because those footsteps are getting closer. Climbing down the mountain is the only way we are going to get out of this with our skins intact. Come on… in the circus you risk your life on a daily basis. Twice daily if you include the Saturday matinee! This should be simple!’

  ‘Throwing knives is one thing… climbing down a mountain is something else entirely!’ protested Ruby. ‘And it’s certainly not simple! I’m scared, Yang.’

  ‘Being scared is better than being dead.’

  ‘You can be both, you know. One after the other in quick succession!’ said Ruby, nervously. ‘Just promise me one thing: don’t tell me not to look down, because you know what I’m like, Yang, I’ll look down – you know I will… and then I’ll be a nervous wreck! As it is I’ll have my eyes shut the whole way.’

  Yang gave her a wink. ‘If it makes you feel any better, so will I.’

  It was unfortunate that they had not waited around to greet the owners of the approaching footsteps, for one of them was the very man they sought.

  ‘Could Cho-zen Li not have built this place a bit nearer to the ground?’ puffed Quaint, as the two guards prodded him further up the stone stairs.

  ‘Cho-zen Li did not build this fortress,’ explained Matso, helpfully. ‘Legend speaks that he was born generations ago, and so violent was his birth that the earth was split asunder, and Q’in Mountain burst forth. As Cho-zen Li grew so too did the mountain. He feasted on the eagles that foolishly flew too close, growing ever larger until his physical body could no longer contain his soul. One day he stopped growing, and so too did the mountain, with Cho-zen Li was stranded at its peak. There he has stayed, swearing never to set foot on the earth again.’

  Quaint smiled behind his mask. ‘That’s an interesting little tale. There seem to be quite a few of them about Cho-zen Li. Surely they can’t all be true.’

  ‘Enough talk!’ snapped Teke. ‘We ha
ve arrived.’

  Quaint was led to a stout wooden door that led off from the main staircase. Behind the door was a garrison block, with an array of soldiers milling about. Some were in various states of undress, fastening the links of their armour, or polishing their swords, spears and helmets. Quaint recognised one of them as the leader of the band that he had come across in the forest the day before.

  Captain Hienko glared at him with such hatred that Quaint wondered what on earth he had done to offend him. And then he remembered that he was wearing the mask.

  ‘Makoi? Here?’ hissed Captain Hienko. ‘Guards: explain yourselves!’

  ‘Allow me,’ offered Quaint in Chinese. ‘I’m here to—’ His words were abruptly cut short as the captain swiped the back of his hand across his face.

  ‘I was not addressing you, filth!’ yelled the captain. ‘You will speak only when spoken to!’

  Quaint tried again, ‘I was just—’

  Captain Hienko swiped his hand across Quaint’s face. ‘I said be quiet!’

  ‘I’m trying to explain,’ said Quaint. ‘I’m here to—’

  As Hienko swiped his hand yet again, Quaint snatched it mid-air, holding it tight in his grip. ‘That’s really starting to get on my nerves.’ The conjuror leaned closer to Captain Hienko’s ear, and spoke very clearly into it. ‘I am here to see your master, and if you value your life you’ll take me to him. Now.’

  Captain Hienko’s face grew pale. ‘You will get your wish. But first I am waiting for an explanation of how you were captured from my men.’

  Teke and Matso pondered the intricacies of their façade and quite independently from one another decided that, on the whole, it was far better to lie.

  ‘We caught him near the western perimeter, sir,’ Teke said.

  ‘But your post is at the mine’s entrance, is it not?’ asked Captain Hienko.

  Teke kicked himself.

  ‘He means the western perimeter of the mine entrance, sir,’ butted in Matso.

  ‘I was not aware we had a western perimeter at the entrance.’

  ‘It’s a small perimeter,’ mumbled Teke.

  ‘Very small,’ agreed Matso. ‘You can barely see it.’

  Quaint looked up to the heavens, wondering how on earth Cho-zen Li had remained in power so long by employing idiots like these two. ‘If this is going to be a bother, you can just point me in the right direction. I can make my own way there.’

  ‘I will take the prisoner to the Master’s chambers at once!’ commanded Captain Hienko, hastily fastening up his armour and dusting the feathered plume sprouting from his helmet. He looked to Matso and Teke. ‘You two come with me.’

  Exiting the garrison, they entered a set of iron doors that led away from the central staircase and into the many corridors of the palace itself. Gone were the rough rocks and simple whitewash, replaced with decoration of an altogether more sumptuous design, which Quaint took as a sign that he was getting closer to his goal. As he was led along, he stopped every now and then to admire the beauty. Exotic vases decorated with gilt and gemstones from Africa, lavish Grecian sculptures, pristine busts from the Roman Empire – the place was a museum of antiquities. Quaint recalled Polly North speaking about Cho-zen Li. She said that he was a great lover of history. At the time, he had presumed that it was merely a story the warlord had used to ensnare the professor’s interest, but as he walked along these carpeted halls, he began to viewed Cho-zen Li in a different light.

  The warlord was becoming more of an enigma with every footstep.

  A hundred yards ahead under a low arched ceiling, Quaint noticed a large black stain on the wall, next to a curtained-off archway. Scorch marks. Considering most of the corridor was cloaked in a thick layer of discoloured soot, it raised several questions within his inquisitive mind.

  ‘What happened in here?’ was just one of them, as he peered through the curtains.

  Captain Hienko stepped over and pulled them closed. ‘That is not your concern, Makoi.’ After traipsing along several long corridors, they came to a pair of broad wooden doors. ‘Once we get inside, you will not make eye contact with Master Cho-zen Li, do you understand me, Makoi?’

  ‘Your master is a shy sort then, is he?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘No, because you are not worthy to meet his gaze!’ snapped Captain Hienko. ‘Now keep your tongue still. We are about to be received.’

  The doors were opened, and as Quaint was led up a flight of marble steps, he felt a breeze tug at his clothing. He was outside. It was akin to walking up through the clouds towards heaven itself. He could see the tops of the trees in the lush green landscape below, and a thin blanket of cloud skirting the edges of the stone platform. Gargantuan marble pillars supported the tiled roof of the room, if it could be described as such. The massive rectangular audience chamber was intentionally sparse, with a raised stone dais positioned in the centre, and upon that was a broad seat not unlike a throne, containing Cho-zen Li’s bloated form. On either side of the platform stood a guard, armoured in a suit of iron with a hardened animal hide helmet. Quaint was not usually the nervous type, but his stomach was in knots and he intentionally slowed his pace towards Cho-zen Li’s throne.

  Behind the mask of Makoi, his eyes struggled to take in the full measure of the warlord’s enormity. He was dressed in a long-sleeved, wide-cuffed black satin robe tied around his bulk by a broad red silk sash, and his chubby fingers were decorated with rings adorned with an array of coloured gemstones. With a jab in the small of his back, Quaint was pushed towards the raised platform.

  Cho-zen Li’s narrowed eyes interrogated him.

  ‘Captain, do my eyes deceive me? Can this be the outlaw Makoi?’

  Hienko bowed. ‘Yes, Master. He was caught skulking around outside the entrance to the mine. I… I bested him in armed combat, and then ordered my guards here to apprehend him. I felt it wise to bring him to you right away.’

  Clap! Clap! Clap! went Cho-zen Li’s thunderous applause. ‘Your actions are to be commended, Hienko. Now leave us.’

  Hienko stepped closer. ‘Master, I must insist that I remain for your safety!’

  ‘My safety is not in question, Captain Hienko… unlike your obedience. Now go. I would have words with this man alone.’

  Hienko gulped, not liking the situation but liking the alternative even less. Cho-zen Li watched him leave the chamber before fixing his gaze upon Quaint.

  ‘You may remove the mask now, whoever you are,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ asked Quaint, as innocently as he could muster.

  ‘I know who you want me to think you are,’ said Cho-zen Li. ‘In truth, this is why you still live. Curiosity has always been one of my failings.’

  ‘Same here,’ said Quaint, removing the mask. ‘After all, it got me this far.’

  ‘Enabling you to do what, exactly?’ asked Cho-zen Li, his eyes widening at the sight of the unfamiliar face before him. ‘Most of my subjects cower in fear at the mention of my name, and rarely do they seek an audience.’

  ‘That’s understandable… but then, I’m not one of your subjects.’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Cho-zen Li. ‘So you are the Englishman allied with Makoi, hmm? The threads of this conspiracy are at last beginning to unravel. What is your name?’

  ‘Cornelius,’ said he. ‘And seeing as we’re being so cordial, you can answer a few questions!’

  ‘Considering your current position, it is not wise to make demands, Englishman.’

  Quaint bowed. ‘Call it a request then.’

  ‘And in return, perhaps you can answer some of my own questions. I assume that your being here is part of a larger plan? That you were responsible for derailing my plot to assassinate your queen?’

  ‘Guilty as charged,’ admitted Quaint.

  ‘And you have come all the way to China to do what exactly?’

  ‘In a nutshell,’ Quaint began, ‘to drag your stinking carcass back to London where you’ll be hanged for your p
lot to murder Queen Victoria – provided we can find gallows strong enough to take your weight, that is.’

  ‘Naturally.’ Cho-zen Li linked his fingers together and rested them upon his mountainous stomach. ‘Well, you seem to have put some thought into it, I cannot deny you that, but it might come as a surprise to hear that I do not intend to comply. The good news for you is that at least you will not return to your queen having to explain your failure.’

  ‘Oh? And why’s that?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘Because you will not be returning.’ Cho-zen Li rose from his throne, each one of his lumbering footsteps shaking the chamber. ‘You are but one man. Unless I am missing something, just how do you expect to defeat me?’

  Quaint looked up, down, left and right around the Chinaman. ‘With no bodyguard to protect you, I should think the hardest part will be carrying your fat carcass down the stairs.’

  ‘Unless it is you that is missing something.’

  ‘Such as?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘That I do not need a bodyguard.’

  Cho-zen Li’s fist whipped from his side and struck Quaint’s jaw like a sledgehammer, nearly separating the conjuror’s head from his neck. He crashed down onto the stone floor, unable to recall a time when he’d ever been hit quite like it. His eyes darted left and right as he tried to remember where he was and what had just hit him. Quaint peeled himself off the floor and threw a punch, banking on the fact that the bloated Chinaman was impossible to miss, but somehow Cho-zen Li managed to land a punch before he even had time to blink. Quaint resumed his position on his backside.

  Cho-zen Li stood over him, inspecting the conjuror with interest. ‘I rarely indulge in physicality, Cornelius, but that does not mean that I am not good at it.’

  ‘Clearly,’ said Quaint, rubbing his jaw.

  Getting to his feet, despite every atom of his being pleading with him not to, he struck out with his fists. A jab to the Chinaman’s forehead, an uppercut to the jaw, a lunge to the Adam’s apple – impossibly Cho-zen Li seemed unaffected by even his hardest punch. Quaint was confused. It was like hitting a ghost. Gritting his teeth, he went for a second wave. A strike to the guts, to the solar plexus, a roundhouse blow across Cho-zen Li’s flabby chin, but still the man-mountain refused to fall. Quaint staggered back, trying to work out where he was going wrong. He tried one more punch to Cho-zen Li’s stomach for good measure.