Empress of Bright Moon

by Weina Dai Randel

  I needed to build a wall of protection for my child, even though I was not ready to stand before the Empress. And that meant Pheasant had to be my shield and armor.

  I raised my head. “You mentioned the war against the Tibetans earlier. Did our cavalry win, Pheasant?”

  He sighed. “The Tibetans routed us. Again. It’s getting worse at the border. You know, Mei, had my father been alive, we would not have faced such shame, and now everyone in the kingdom blames me, cursing my impotence.” He laughed dryly. “Even though I have done nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  I felt his pain. “What is the Regent’s plan?”

  “He sent another twenty thousand men to fight, but the situation does not look promising.” Pheasant picked up his mallet again. “The governor at the border has abandoned his post and fled. My uncle put his entire family to death. Now the ministers are frightened, and people are fleeing. They are worried the Tibetans will soon break through the border and attack Chang’an.”

  I frowned. The situation was worse than what I had imagined. “Perhaps you should attend the audiences, Pheasant.” He turned to me in surprise, and I continued. “I know the Regent did not request your attendance, but he cannot stop you if you decide to go.”

  “I went there a few times, before your return.” Pheasant looked down at his mallet. “I was…not helpful, and anyway, after I heard the news of your death, I did not see the point.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “You do see the point now, don’t you? And when you go to the Audience Hall tomorrow, you will summon the General and send him to fight the Tibetans.”

  The General was still in exile, but his name was too great for the others to forget, and I was certain if he led the army, he would crush the Tibetans. But I had another motive for wanting him to return.

  When the General succeeded in defeating the Tibetans and returned to the court, he would owe Pheasant his eternal loyalty, and with the General behind him, Pheasant would no longer remain powerless.

  “Summon the General from his exile?” Pheasant looked surprised. “It’s not possible.”

  The law forbade an exiled man to be recalled. But then, the Emperor made the laws. “You must make it happen.”

  “Why do you think the Regent will listen to me?”

  “Because he does not have a better man to send.” Twenty thousand cavalry, and still the governor had fled. When the General had attacked Koguryo six years before, he’d led five hundred men, fought against fifty thousand in the Koguryo army, stomped them all, and left ten forts as rubble. He was a legend on the battlefield, and I was certain he could repeat his feat if he were given a chance. “Mention his name when you go to the Audience Hall tomorrow, and see what the ministers think.”

  Pheasant shook his head. “They will not agree. And my uncle—”

  “Would they rather let the Tibetans attack Chang’an?” I looked into Pheasant’s eyes. “This is your chance, Pheasant. Remember what you wished for the kingdom? A long time ago? Before your father died? Remember Tripitaka’s prediction that a great era, more splendid than any emperor’s reign, is coming?”

  “I shall never forget.”

  I squeezed his arm. “Then take what belongs to you, Pheasant. Take it when you have a chance.”

  He stared at the ground, and I could see the deep longing in his eyes—the longing to rule, and rule alone. “You don’t think it’s too late?”

  “Too late? Of course not. You’re still young. You have many years ahead of you.”

  “But my uncle… You know I bear him no ill wishes… He is only obeying my father’s will…”

  His voice, thin and quiet, hung around me like the delicate web the silkworms spun, but underneath it, I could also hear pain, dangling like a weighty insect struggling to survive. Pheasant, I realized, still paid great respect to his uncle. “You do wish to be the emperor, the real emperor, don’t you?”

  Nodding slowly, he looked sad. “Yes. I do. How could I not? It’s my family’s dynasty. My mother would love to see me rule. My father wanted me to rule too. He taught me so, even though he changed his mind before he died. Yes, it would be glorious if my dream could come true. Do you know that when my father was my age, he had already ruled the kingdom for five years on his own?”

  For the first time since my return to the court, I heard bitterness in his voice, and I realized how much he had wanted to become a true emperor. I was certain we must gain the General’s help to restore Pheasant’s power in the court. It was not only for me, but for him as well. “You will rule, Pheasant, and remember—the Regent will not live forever.”

  He smiled a brilliant smile. “I shall attend the audiences from now on. And I shall fight to summon the General.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m happy you are here.”

  I was glad too, and somehow I believed he would succeed. Perhaps soon, I would no longer need to fear the Empress.

  Hope yelped joyously from near the pond and raced toward me with the ball in his mouth.

  “He’s a good dog,” Pheasant said, watching Hope nuzzling against me. “I’ll trade you for a horse.”

  “Can’t do it.” I smiled, holding Hope close to me. “He protects me. He almost bit the Empress the other day.”

  “Almost? He needs to do better next time.”

  I laughed. Pheasant was so transparent. His love and hate dwelled within him like fire and water. “I used to think horses were the most precious animals, but now, I’m not so sure.”

  “How fast you’ve changed your heart!”

  I laughed again, but I would not argue with him. I would always love Hope more than any horses. Pheasant would not understand. He had a weakness for horses, especially fine breeds, the type whose sweat turned red like blood.

  “But I still think you need someone who can stay with you in case she comes back,” Pheasant said.

  “To protect me?” It would not be easy to find someone who would be loyal to me and also powerful enough to stop the Empress if she tried to attack me.

  “A companion, Mei. Let me think…”

  “Pheasant—”

  He coughed. “I shall ask my sister to stay with you.”

  I frowned. I would not expect a princess to be a congenial companion—many were arrogant, spoiled, and often looked down on concubines. I had encountered a few while I nursed Emperor Taizong, and they rarely glanced at me or spoke to me. “Which one?”

  Pheasant had four sisters and seventeen half sisters. When Emperor Taizong was alive, they had lived with their mothers and rarely participated in the palace affairs. Now most of them were either married or lived in their own quarters in seclusion.

  “Gaoyang.”

  It meant “high sun,” an unusual name for a girl. “Is she one of your half sisters?”

  Pheasant nodded. “She is a quirky one. I think you two will get along rather well. She studied under a monk at a young age and acquired some unique skills. She annoys many people in the palace, but she does things her own way. She is married now.”

  So this princess was not only overbearing, but also religious. I had no desire to spend my days chanting sutra with her or watching her strut around in the garden all day. “I told you, Pheasant. I am fine by myself.”

  He cocked his head, smiling.

  “What?”

  “When did you become so stubborn?”

  I could never argue with him when he smiled at me like that. I sighed. “Fine, send the princess over.”

  “Let me arrange for her to visit next week. But meanwhile”—he walked over to his horse and swung his leg over—“stay out of trouble.”

  • • •

  Pheasant went to the Audience Hall early each morning for the next few days, trying to convince the Regent and the other ministers to summon the General back from exile and send him to fight the Tibetans. His request was immediately denied
, but Pheasant persisted, and as the court continued to receive urgent horse-relayed messages of defeat, the Regent finally agreed to give the General a chance.

  Overjoyed, Pheasant decided to meet the General in a border town, intending to encourage him and provide him with moral support. Pheasant promised he would return to the palace in four weeks, with a victorious General.

  I was pleased to hear of our plan’s success, and I hoped Pheasant’s trip to the border would herald the beginning of his true reign of the kingdom.

  Before he left, Pheasant gave me a gift he had promised years ago: a copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. I treasured it and hid the scroll under my pillow. I would need it someday. And I prayed Pheasant would return as soon as possible, for I was worried about the Empress, who would surely seize the opportunity to get rid of me.

  7

  Loud noises erupted at the garden’s entrance.

  The Empress had returned—not by herself, but with an army of palace guards. They were hammering and banging on the gates with something heavy.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and listened. I would have liked to stand by the door and watch what they were doing, but my stomach was large, and I grew tired easily if I stood for too long. And I was nervous. What would the Empress do to me? She would not hold back, knowing Pheasant was not there to protect me.

  The gates fell to the ground with a crash, and the guards’ shouts became louder. Apricot raced into my chamber, her face white with fear.

  I wanted to tell her not to be afraid, but I was too nervous to speak. Trying to stay calm, I put on my fur coat and tied a red scarf around my head. My hair had grown some over the past seven months, but it was still too short to style attractively.

  With Apricot wringing her hands on my left and Hope trotting on my right, I walked to the entrance. The Empress, standing near the pavilion with a group of men and women, was gesturing at something. At my approach, she spun around and stomped toward me. Her body was wide like a giant kite spreading its wings in the sky. Her hair was pulled tightly behind her ears, and perched on her head was the same ceremonial phoenix crown, which she seemed to be obsessed with. I wondered if she went to sleep wearing it too.

  Four ladies trailed behind her. From the way they carried themselves, I could tell they were the new Four Ladies, the second-degree women, lower only than the Empress. The one on the left wore a white gown woven with golden threads, and the other three wore identical rose-pink brocade gowns. The three ladies had their arms intertwined, and their hair, all long and sleek, was twisted neatly in a pile on top of their heads like a conch. Their cheeks red, their beauty marks perfect, they looked so coy and attractive, like three pretty partridges with pink feathers.

  I envied their beauty. I wished I still had long hair, but I had only the red silk scarf, and the wind was blowing it across my face. I tucked it behind my ears, worried the knot would loosen and the scarf would fall. If the ladies saw my short hair, I would become the laughingstock of the entire palace.

  “Zao an, Empress.” Good morning. I stopped a few paces away from her and bowed, trying to keep calm. What was her plan? Humiliate me? Threaten me?

  “I have decided to make this garden public,” Empress Wang said, towering over the women and guards behind her. “This garden shall be open to all the ladies, regardless of their ranks. I shall also add a new wing and expand this place. The gardeners will come tomorrow, and the pond workers and the painters too. Now, I would like to clean up everything that does not belong here. That means you must leave.”

  I stood erect. “I am afraid I can’t, Empress.”

  “Do you dare to defy me?”

  Her large shadow slid across the ground, covering my feet and then my face.

  “Empress.” I kept my voice even. “I do not intend to defy anyone. It is the Emperor’s order I stay in this garden.”

  “The Emperor? He does not give orders in the Inner Court.”

  I did not like her tone or the certainty of her words. “Perhaps you should speak to him.”

  There was a pause, and the Empress turned to face the ladies behind her. “Ladies, perhaps you have wondered why I brought you all here. Have you wondered who this woman is? Let me inform you. She is a harlot of the late Emperor. The Regent exiled her to a monastery to repent three years ago, but she snuck back to the palace and seduced the Emperor! And now, as the Empress of the kingdom, I must do my duty and expel her.”

  The ladies lowered their heads, pressing closer to one another, and the Empress continued, her voice higher. “Do you hear me? This woman has slept with the father, and now she’s sleeping with the son! A harlot, she is! With no sense of moral decency and virtue.”

  The maids near the Four Ladies were covering their mouths, whispering among one another. The servants and guards stared at me, their mouths agape, and Apricot’s head drooped so low it seemed she could have buried herself underground. I wanted to cover my face, run to my chamber, and lock myself inside. But I forced myself to stand erect. Ten years ago, she would have gotten her wish, but I was stronger now.

  “Answer me, harlot. Are you not ashamed?”

  I raised my head to look into her eyes. Yes, I had tried to share Pheasant’s father’s bed, but I had not succeeded. All the same, it was my past and my shame to bear. “Empress, allow me to clarify: I did not seduce your husband.”

  “You can’t deny it, harlot!”

  Her voice was so shrill that I wanted to cover my ears, and the baby kicked inside me, so hard I almost doubled over. She was frightened by the Empress’s loud voice. “I shall not argue with you, Empress. If you have finished what you have come to say, then I bid you a good day. I would like to rest.”

  “Stop! You will not walk away from me.” She walked closer to me, her steps unsteady. “I will leave you…” she started, then her voice unexpectedly dropped to a murmur, so low I could barely hear her. “I will leave you alone…if you promise not to bed the Emperor.”

  I did not know what to say. This was such a childish request; I never would have expected to hear it from her.

  “Yes. You promise me…promise me you will give him back to me.” Her voice quavered, and her lips trembled as though every word was agony to her. “If he favors me, if he gives me a son, I will leave you alone.”

  She looked tearful, and I felt sorry for her. But she was barren. How could I help her? “I’m sorry, Empress. I’m afraid I can’t make any promises.”

  Her broad face reddened, and her candlestick-like nose thrust to the sky. “Then I order you to leave. Get out! Out of the garden. Now!”

  She was possessed with a burst of frightening violence again. I took a step back. “I told you, Empress. I can’t do that.”

  She laughed shrilly. “How dare you disobey me? No one disobeys me, harlot. No one. If I say you must get out of the garden, then you must get out of the garden. If I say you will be punished, then you will be punished. Guards!” The men behind her answered, and she pointed at me. “Strike her!”

  I could not believe what she just ordered, but the men lunged toward me, wielding thick rods. My throat tightening, I looked around. The women dropped their heads quickly and stepped back. Beside me, Apricot whimpered, her hands flying to her mouth. The guards Pheasant had ordered to protect me were nowhere to be seen.

  Fear crept down my spine. But it would be futile to flee. I would not be able to outrun them.

  A familiar growl rose beside me, and Hope leaped, baring his sharp teeth. I had yet to breathe out in relief when one of the guards struck at him with his club. But my brave Hope jumped aside and attacked the man’s leg. The man fell, shouting in pain, and Hope spun around to face five more men before him. Circling them, he lunged and bit a guard’s shoulder, pushing him to the ground. The other four guards hesitated, and Hope circled back to my side. Before I could touch him, a guard dove toward him and clobbered his bad leg. Ye
lping, Hope fell on the ground as rods rained on him.

  I cried out. “Stop! Stop it!”

  They did not listen, and my poor Hope writhed on the ground.

  “Stop it.” I threw myself in front of Hope, my arms outstretched. “Do not touch him.”

  “Get her!” the Empress shouted.

  The men loomed over me, and my heart pounded. Rising to my feet, I tried to keep calm. “You cannot harm me. I am bearing the Emperor’s seed. If you harm me, if you dare lay a finger on me, I will have you all thrown in a dungeon.”

  They hesitated, heads turning to the Empress.

  She laughed. “Too late, harlot. I already gave you a chance. Strike her!”

  They inched closer, and Hope yelped furiously. Perspiration dampened my armpits. She intended to make me lose my child!

  A blow fell on my back. I staggered forward, and a guard kicked my stomach. Desperate, I bent over, my arms around my belly, but another guard kicked my knee, and I dropped to the ground.

  “No!” Apricot screamed, her voice filled with warning.

  I raised my head, the scarf flying before me, blocking my vision, but still I could see it clearly—a rod, raised high above my head. So thick and hard, it could break my arm, beat me into unconsciousness, or, worst of all, make me lose my child. I could not move.

  Suddenly, a wave of indigo swirled before me. It caught the rod and hurled it into the air. As though it had eyes and hands of its own, the indigo cloth struck at the man in front of me, who fell backward, and slapped another on my right, who cried out, and then it wound around another man on my left, wrapping him up and throwing him aside, until finally, all the guards who had stood before me rolled on the ground and groaned.

  Then the indigo-colored cloth began to spin, fast at first, and then slowed down, unraveling like a cocoon spooling, revealing a slim girl, one arm above her head, one arm near her hips, long sleeves draped beside her like curtains.