Empress of Bright Moon

by Weina Dai Randel

  But I could not do that now. Perhaps next spring.

  I stroked my stomach. I was with child again. It was only three months and too early to tell anyone. Only a few people knew: Pheasant, Princess Gaoyang, and Apricot, who helped me dress every morning.

  I would have a daughter this time. Our son was for Pheasant, but our daughter was for me, and I wanted her to be just like my dear Princess Gaoyang, to have no fear or care for conventions and take part in life’s many games and enjoy life’s boundless joy. Perhaps I could even name her after Gaoyang, although that would be a breach of etiquette. The custom allowed mothers to name an infant after someone only when that person was deceased.

  For a long moment I stood watching her chasing the ball with Pheasant, Prince Ke, and the General. It was one of the most wonderful sights I had ever seen, and I decided I would form a team of female polo players in the palace in the future, so all the women could have fun.

  Then I turned around. I had to get ready. The cruel Empress, the animal killer, would soon be tried.

  • • •

  I stepped out of the carriage, alarmed. Many people were crammed in front of my garden’s entrance. There seemed to be a standoff, with some unfamiliar guards in black robes shouting, and my own guards were pushed to a corner near the tangerine grove.

  “What’s the matter?” I shouted, walking fast toward them. They quieted, turning toward me, and I stopped sharply. My blood turned to ice.

  The Empress.

  Standing among the guards, she was wearing her usual golden gown and the phoenix crown. Her back facing me, she stooped over, her hands outstretched toward something I could not see.

  What was she doing here? The words died in my throat as I caught sight of a familiar red tunic.

  Lion.

  He was sitting at her feet. He had not started to walk yet, and, with one hand holding his favorite hand drum, he tried to push himself up.

  “Stay away from him,” I shouted, running. “Do not touch him.”

  Where were my maids? Then I saw Apricot, racing out of the garden, her hands flying to her mouth, her face ashen.

  The Empress straightened and turned toward me. Her face, powdered white, looked plain and broad as ever, and her closely set eyes were daggers. All her sickness, her pathetic look I saw when the Regent asked to relieve her of the duty in the workshops were gone. “How dare you break into my house?” Her voice was deep and thick like smoke, filled with anger and threat.

  “I didn’t break into your house.” I stopped, panting. Oh, my child. He was not trying to stand up anymore, and there were tears in his eyes, and the hand drum was rattling as his hand shook. What did she say to him? What did she do to him?

  “You brought the Emperor to my house. The Emperor! While I was away!”

  “You imprisoned the Pure Lady and Sujie. They did nothing wrong.”

  “They mocked me! That insolent woman intended to replace me. Me! She said I was barren! And her impudent monkey mocked my son—my son, the heir!”

  Everyone knew she was barren. “They did not deserve to be tortured like that.”

  “They deserved worse than what they got! And how dare you challenge me.” Her voice was shrill. “You? You challenge me? You set them free while I was away!”

  Lion stretched his hand out to me, his lips trembling. My heart ached. He did not like loud noises. She was frightening him. “The Emperor shall be here momentarily,” I said. “I ask you to leave, Empress Wang.”

  “Be careful, harlot, of what you say.” She gritted her teeth. “This is my court, my palace, and you are nothing. You are no one. You do not tell me to leave.” She gripped Lion’s arms and lifted him in the air. Lion shrieked, thrashing his legs.

  She was hurting him. She was hurting him! Fear clenched my throat. I stumbled forward despite myself. “Put him down. Put him down!”

  But she lifted him higher, above her shoulder, as though he were nothing more than a toy. “You see, you are nothing to me. Nothing. Like this little thing. Nothing!”

  Lion screamed, tears raining down his cheeks. I could not bear it. All the strength drained out of me. I staggered toward the woman who held my child in her hands. “Please put him down, Empress. Please. He’s crying. He’s frightened. Please put him down.”

  “Frightened?” She raised her face to my child, her chilly voice stabbing my heart. “Are you frightened, little devil? I only wish to play with you. Look, you are small, so small. Do you know how small you are, little devil? Do not fight me. I cannot hold you like this. I shall drop you.” She shook my son, and his hand drum fell from his hands. “Then you shall fall, yes, fall, like this toy. You shall break your legs or arms. Do you hear me? Do not fight me.”

  I shuddered, choked with fear. She would make me pay for saving the Pure Lady. She was going to hurt my son. “No, don’t drop him. Don’t drop him. No!” Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to kneel before her, to beg, to plead, if only she would let my son go. “Please, please, do not harm him.”

  She raised her head and laughed, her voice loud and disturbing, like a murder of cackling crows. “Look at you, look at yourself. You fat sow! You are nothing without your son, do you understand that? Nothing. You’re nothing—”

  A swirl of indigo spun before me. Gaoyang! The Empress cried out, stepped back, and then magically, her hands were empty.

  “Leave, Empress.” Gaoyang’s beautiful voice rose beside me, and in her arms was my Lion, hiccupping, swallowing his tears. I dove toward him and wrapped him in my arms. Relief, euphoria, and gratitude washed over me. I rocked him. I kissed him. I held him tight.

  “I shall not forget this, you little clown,” that despicable woman said.

  “Neither shall I, Empress.” Gaoyang’s voice was firm. “Neither shall I.”

  I could feel the Empress’s venomous stare, and I held my son tighter. Finally, her enormous shape began to move, and when she passed me, she kicked at something on the ground.

  The hand drum flew in the air and crashed against the wall. I jolted, searching. Near the wall were the shards of the drum’s wooden band and the toy’s broken handle, still bearing the teeth marks of my son, and the crashing sound, although long disappeared, rang in my ears and pounded at my heart.

  • • •

  I did not sleep well that night. I dreamed of the Empress, her arms spread like the claws of a beast, stretching to seize my son from me. I awoke bathed in a cold sweat.

  Lion could not sleep either. He missed his hand drum and was irritated when he could not have it. Apricot offered him another toy, but he would not take it. For the whole night, he cried, agitated, his eyes red and ringed with shadows.

  I kept him close to me. I would not let him out of my sight, and when my hands failed to find him at night, I grew frantic, afraid he had been taken away from me. In the bright sunlight, when Princess Gaoyang played with him near the pond, I could see the shadows under the trees, the shadows of the Empress’s wrath, creeping close to me and my child.

  If she learned of my plan to impeach her, she would never forgive me. Was I ready to face her wrath? Could I protect my son from her?

  I told Pheasant not to start the trial of the Empress.

  “Perhaps we should reconsider the matter of impeachment,” I pleaded to him. “It might be too risky.”

  He was hesitant. I had nothing to fear, he told me, his eyes filled with concern. Then he put his arms around me to let me know that he would protect me. But I was not convinced.

  He was not a mother, and he could not understand a mother’s anxiety.

  I closed my eyes. “I have made up my mind,” I said to Pheasant. “We must not impeach the Empress.”

  AD 653

  The Fourth Year of Emperor Gaozong’s Reign of Eternal Glory

  WINTER

  19

  The Empress issued new r
ules for everyone in the Inner Court. No one was allowed to mention a word about the kennel, wolves, or the Pure Lady. Anyone who defied the rule would receive ten lashes by thick rods. Gatherings of groups more than three were forbidden in the Inner Court. And all titled Ladies must stay in their compounds and request permission if they needed to leave. If they left their compounds without the Empress’s permission, they would be subject to ten lashes and other severe punishments.

  So, like all the other ladies forced to stay in their chambers, I was confined in my own garden.

  • • •

  Two months passed. I quietly celebrated my son’s one-year birthday, followed by his naming ritual. Only Princess Gaoyang and a group of imperial astrologists were invited, by Pheasant—not me, since I must follow the Empress’s new rule. During the ritual, the imperial astrologists named my son, the third son of Pheasant, Li Hong. Pheasant was pleased. After the ritual was over, he gave Hong a set of twelve wooden horses, all in various sizes and breeds, and taught him how to ride on a toy horse, even though he had yet to learn how to walk.

  Sitting on a stone bench near a bare cinnamon tree, I watched them play. I felt calm, basking in the warm winter sun, and I tried not to think of the danger and the unease that haunted me. I was five months pregnant. Four more months, and I would have another child, and I hoped she would provide me with enough distractions so I could forget about the Empress and her threat.

  “I heard about her order.” Gaoyang came to stand by my side. She was wearing a light indigo tunic with patterns of bamboo stalks stitched around the hem. Around her waist was a green girdle with a similar pattern. It wound so tightly around her, it seemed her thin waist could snap easily.

  I nodded. I knew she would bring this up.

  “This is most outrageous. I would not accept that. Is this why you changed your mind, Luminous Lady?”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “Best?” She frowned.

  I sighed. She was too young. She could not understand my fears.

  Apricot covered my shoulders with a sable coat. Kneeling before me, she tied the strings carefully under my chin. She had grown taller, and her chest had filled out. When she had come to serve me two years before, she had been only a girl, and now she looked like a grown woman. Even her manner had changed. She was no longer timid or bashful, and she spoke fluently without pausing or whispering.

  I patted her hand to show my gratitude. Gaoyang had seen her with the Secretary, but I did not think she would betray me. It was not her fault either that my son fell into the Empress’s hands the other day. Hong was curious about the surroundings these days and was crawling everywhere. Apricot was doing her best to keep him from the pond, not the entrance. She was serving me well, I had to say, and whenever I needed information, she would find it. I had promoted her to be the chief maid. In a few months, I would give her another handsome reward.

  “Thank you, Apricot.” I waved her away. “Gaoyang, I am afraid you will not understand.”

  “But you know the Empress will not leave you alone, Luminous Lady,” Gaoyang said, her eyes following Apricot as she rose to leave. Apricot gave her a deep bow, and the princess nodded.

  The two women were only two years apart, Gaoyang being older, I realized. But how different they looked. Apricot was round and curvy with womanly charm, while Gaoyang was thin and flat. Both, however, were graceful. “I know, Gaoyang. Of course she won’t.”

  “Then what will you do, Luminous Lady?”

  I wondered if the master Sun Tzu had any good advice to help me out. Perhaps he did, but I could not fish it out of my mind right now. So I said, “Look.” I pointed at a brown hare dashing in the woods on the other side of the pond. It stood still, crouching near a stone lamp, watching us. “You see, we have hares, trees, rosebushes in the garden, frogs, and goldfish in the pond. When spring comes, we’ll see cicadas, orioles, and hawks, and many insects and animals.”

  She folded her arms. “What do you mean by that?”

  “There is a place for all creatures in the garden, my princess.”

  “But would you rather be the mantis behind the cicada, or the oriole behind the mantis?”

  She was referring to the old saying: “The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.”

  I gazed at her. I did not know what to say.

  “Let me tell you something.” Gaoyang waved her arms. A breeze swept my face, and she was gone. “Fear,” she said from the pavilion, “is a roof. If you do not break it, you shall not see the sky. My mentor’s words.”

  I looked up, shading my eyes with my hand. The sky bore a shade of unimpressive gray, but the white clouds, round and small, were pretty and pleasant, floating around like silkworm cocoons. “Your mentor has interesting observations.”

  He reminded me of Tripitaka, the monk who was also wise and enigmatic.

  The color of indigo swirled from the pavilion, and Gaoyang stood beside me again. “You cannot live in a pavilion built with fear, Luminous Lady. It gets smaller and smaller, hotter and hotter inside, until you cannot breathe.”

  I considered her words. “I don’t know.” I sighed. “Perhaps, Gaoyang, you will understand me better when you are older.”

  “Perhaps you ought to get out of your garden,” she said. “Do you want to go visit the Ladies?”

  I shook my head. “You know I can’t, Gaoyang.” Since the Empress’s new order, I had not set my foot outside the garden; I had not heard anything about the Pure Lady or seen any of the Ladies.

  “Well, you do wish to see them, don’t you?” She pulled my hand. “Let’s go now. I’ll go with you. If that mad cow dares to stop me, I’ll throw her over the roof.”

  Gaoyang was serious about this, and I knew she would scoff at me if I said anything about obedience. “Now?”

  “Yes.” She would not let me sit.

  I glanced at Hong. He was climbing on the wooden horse, and Pheasant was laughing beside him. He would be safe with Pheasant. “All right,” I said to Gaoyang. “Let’s go.”

  • • •

  The Pure Lady looked almost her former self. The color on her face had returned, and her hair was done carefully in the Cloudy Chignon style. Leaning against the engraved headboard of her bed, she stared at something on the quilt while biting her nails.

  “Pure Lady, I am relieved you are feeling better.” I stopped near the bed, breathing in the strong aroma of cassia wafting through the chamber. Behind me, Princess Gaoyang was batting at the air. She did not like fragrances, I realized, and if it were not for me, she may have refused even to enter the chamber. The three Ladies stood beside her and watched the Pure Lady sympathetically.

  “Yes…yes…” the Pure Lady said. Her voice was barely audible, and she was trembling.

  I wished she would look at me, but her eyes darted here and there, never resting anywhere for long. I wondered if she remembered how I had rescued her and her son. “Pure Lady, if you need anything, please inform me and the other three Ladies. We are here to help if you need us.”

  She did not reply, nor did it appear that she had heard me. I hesitated and stretched out a hand to pat her shoulder.

  She raised her head sharply. I froze, shocked at the look in her eyes. It was not kindness, not gratitude—but hatred.

  I frowned. I could not understand.

  “Luminous Lady.” The Noble Lady tugged at my sleeve. “Don’t touch her. She does not like to be touched.”

  “Well then. We shall let her rest.” I beckoned to the women around me and went to the other side of the screen. Near it, a maid was feeding Sujie some broth from a bowl. He glanced at me, looking surprised, and pushed the maid. With a loud crash, the bowl shattered on the ground.

  “Wolves! Wolves! Where? Where?” Shrieks rose from the bed behind me, startling me.

  I turned around. The Pure Lady staggered
toward me. Her lips trembling, her eyes wild, she came face-to-face with me and stopped dead. It seemed she was thinking, as though trying to remember who I was, but then fear shot through her eyes, and they widened in terror. “Pure Lady,” I said gently, trying to calm her. “It’s me—”

  She lunged at me, and frantically she began to strike me, her arms flailing, her legs kicking, knocking my carefully placed wig to the floor.

  “What are you doing, Pure Lady?” the Noble Lady shouted.

  Gaoyang’s voice rose. “Stop it, Pure Lady!”

  “You!” The Pure Lady did not seem to hear them. Her breath was hot and moist in my ears. “You and the wolves! You and the wolves! I curse you. I curse your family. I curse your parents! I curse your families of five generations!”

  “Stop! Stop! This is Luminous Lady!” the women shouted.

  The Pure Lady jumped and slapped my head. Staggering back, I raised my arm to block her. “Gaoyang…Gaoyang…”

  “She tortured me. She tortured me! She and the wolves, she and the wolves,” the Pure Lady shrieked. “I will never forgive you, Empress Wang. Never forgive you, Empress Wang!”

  “Enough, Pure Lady,” Gaoyang shouted, and I fell gratefully into her arms. “Get her away, Noble Lady. Take her to her bed. Are you all right, Luminous Lady?”

  “Yes…yes…I think so…” I dabbed at my face. “Did you…hear…” I turned to the Pure Lady, and I could not finish my words.

  She had stopped screaming. Pulling away from the other women, she scrambled backward to the bed. Holding on to the bedpost, she trembled, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Let me out… Please… Let my son out… Don’t hurt him… Please…”

  The three Ladies put their hands on their mouths, looking stunned, and Princess Gaoyang held me tighter, her black eyes flashing brightly. Without a word, she picked up my wig, handed it to me, and helped me rise.

  “Has she been like this since we rescued her, Noble Lady?” I asked softly, shocked by the Pure Lady’s change.