It was the first time Master Lan had referred to the pickle. He seemed to think it was a great joke, laughing so much he fell off his bed.
“Get me more wine,” he demanded as he crawled back onto the bed.
“There is no more,” replied the girl. “You drank it all. You’ll have to wait until the spring provisions arrive.”
“I need more wine now!” shouted the Dragonkeeper. “Get some from the Emperor’s store, The old woman will tell you where it is.”
“But I’m not allowed to go into the palace.”
“I give you permission.”
“I can’t!” she gasped. “Stealing from the Emperor is a crime, punishable by death!”
”I won’t tell him, if you don’t.” The Dragonkeeper chuckled at his own great wit. “Do as you’re told, or you’ll get a beating.”
The Emperor was the son of Heaven, just one step away from being a god. The girl was sure that he must know everything—about her secret night visits to the palace, about the time she’d sat on the imperial bed, about the dragon pickle. He’d chosen not to punish her for her previous crimes, but adding another seemed to be trying the imperial patience. She had no choice though. Lan was her master. She had to obey him.
“Go on, wretch,” he shouted, hurling an ink stone in her direction. He missed.
She’d been inside the palace plenty of times before, but never in daylight. As she approached it, she could feel eyes on her—the eyes of Heaven.
The girl ducked through the opening in the wisteria vine. For a brief time each spring the wisteria was covered in purple flowers, but the rest of the time it was a tortured tangle of bare twigs. A path led to the Jade Flower Hall. The wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, sounding like the dragon when he was happy. The girl didn’t feel happy at all. She could see that the doors were painted with images of the two door gods. On the left door was the pale face of the handsome Yu Lei; on the right his brother Shen Tu with a fierce, red face and popping eyes. Shen Tu’s door was hanging off its hinges. The slave girl pushed open the left door and stepped in. The afternoon light seeped in through the intricate latticed shutters of the six-sided windows. The palace looked dingy and neglected in the daylight. Huge, dusty lanterns hung from the carved wooden ceiling. Narrow tables against the walls displayed delicately carved ornaments made entirely of green jade—and draped with spider webs. Withered pot plants stood on the stone floor.
The rat’s nose was protruding from her jacket, sniffing the air.
“I’m glad you’re here to keep me company, Hua.”
The girl walked through the hall to the doorway on the opposite side. This led to a large courtyard garden. Two bare trees and a pond of dark frozen water were all that was visible, the rest was covered with snow. There was a red and green pavilion that would once have been pretty, but the paint was now faded and peeling. Around the edge of the courtyard was a roofed walkway, open to the courtyard on one side. The supporting columns were carved with swirling clouds and also in need of painting. She made her way along the western corridor.
The main palace building loomed in front of her, making her feel the size of a cicada. The roof of Master Lan’s house was so low she could almost touch it. The palace roof reached up to the sky. The corners turned up in elegant curves. On either end of the roof ridge was the carved head of a snarling dragon. As she gazed up, a sheet of melting snow slid off the roof, revealing curved terracotta tiles glazed shiny black. The snow crashed at her feet. The polished doorway was huge, as big as an entire wall of Master Lan’s house, and carved with long-legged cranes. She didn’t enter the doorway. She was sure the Emperor’s wine wouldn’t be in there.
She walked around the main building and followed another covered walkway. A circular entrance appeared on her right. She stepped through and found herself in a passageway. On one of her earlier visits she had stumbled across the darkened imperial kitchens. That would be a sensible place to start looking for wine. The corridors were hung with faded silk wall hangings. Everywhere the girl looked, there were signs of neglect. Lao Ma did her best to keep the palace clean, but it was too big a job for one old woman. She worked constantly but as soon as she turned her back on a cleaned room, the dust would settle again. It took Lao Ma weeks to work her way around the palace and back to where she started. The old woman’s eyesight was poor. She couldn’t see the spider webs draped over the lanterns or the dust collecting in corners. The gardener, the painter and the carpenter were less conscientious. They had long ago given up doing their work. The girl turned a corner and then another. She stood still. She had no idea where the kitchens were.
The slave girl was beginning to think that a beating from her master would be better than offending Heaven, when Lao Ma appeared at the other end of the corridor. She was waving her arms and wailing in the dialect of her home village. The slave girl couldn’t understand a word she was saying. The old woman disappeared through a doorway. A group of men suddenly appeared around a corner. The slave girl stood and stared. There were more than ten of them. She wondered if she was dreaming. Who were these men? Where had they come from? The first two were guards wearing short red tunics, trousers and leather vests. They were carrying two-bladed spears. One blade stuck straight out from the spear handle, the other was at right angles to it. The other men were all wearing flowing silk robes with wide sleeves. Long coloured ribbons fluttered from their waists. They wore winged headdresses. They strode towards the girl in step. One of them was banging a gong. She knew these men must be very important.
“Bow down before your Emperor,” shouted the man with the gong.
The slave girl stood frozen to the spot. The man with the gong was now close enough for her to see his long beard and his fiercely angled eyebrows.
“Bow down or you will be beheaded, slave,” he shouted.
The girl threw herself to the floor, lying flat on her stomach. The men marched past her, kicking dust into her eyes. She waited for them to pass, but heard the sound of more footsteps approaching. Another person was coming along the corridor. She blinked the dust from her eyes and glimpsed one slippered foot and the hem of the most magnificent gown she had ever seen. The fabric was shiny black satin. Characters and pictures of dragons were cunningly woven into it in gold threads. The dragons were slightly raised as if tiny dragons had been sewn into the fabric. The silk slipper was embroidered with fine stitching, also in gold, forming spiral patterns that reminded the girl of high wispy clouds.
Her heart was thumping so hard she thought it would burst through her chest. The wonderful hem and the beautiful slipper belonged to the Emperor himself. He knew all about the crimes committed by his servants at Huangling. He had come personally to witness their punishment. He had waited until they thought they had got away with their crimes, to make the punishment more painful.
The slave girl got to her feet and ran down several corridors, trying to retrace her steps. Now that she wasn’t looking for them, she found herself in the kitchens. The palace had suddenly come alive, like an animal waking from its winter sleep. The kitchen was full of shouting strangers. Servants were bringing in baskets and boxes. Fruit and vegetables were piled onto benches. Chickens and pheasants were strung from hooks. The girl had never seen so much food. Cooks unpacked knives and spoons from long chests. Kitchen hands lit stoves and heaved pots onto them.
“Get out of my way, girl.” A large man carrying a side of beef almost knocked her off her feet.
The front of her jacket started to wriggle.
“Be still,” she whispered to the rat. “I know it smells good in here, but we have to get out.”
The girl tried to go back out into the corridor, but a woman with a cleaver pushed her aside to give herself room to chop up six chickens. The girl was pushed and bumped, elbowed and knocked, until she was jostled out of a door into another room.
This room was twice as big as the Jade Flower Hall, much quieter than the kitchen. There was no one in it except for a servant who was
sweeping the floor. Several patterned rugs, a scattering of embroidered cushions and a lacquered folding screen were the only furnishings. The girl stood and stared at the craftsmanship in the screen. The bottom section was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, skilfully arranged to create a picture of a garden. The open lattice work at the top of the screen was carved into a pattern of birds and blossoms on twigs that were so fine, she was sure just a touch would snap them. She heard footsteps coming from another direction and the sound of the gong getting closer and closer. The servant hurried out of the room. The girl’s legs trembled. There were only two doors. One led to the crowded kitchen. At any moment she was sure that the Emperor would emerge through the other. There was only one place to hide. She managed to get her wobbly legs moving and ducked behind the carved screen.
The girl watched through the spaces between the birds and the twigs as her fears proved true. The two guards marched in and stood to attention at either side of the doorway. The Emperor and his ministers entered the hall. She tried not to look at the Emperor’s face as she knew it was forbidden, but she couldn’t help it. He was a sour-faced man with a turned-down mouth and tiny eyes surrounded by heavy wrinkles of flesh. His face was fat, his body huge. She could be beheaded for such thoughts, but she couldn’t stop them. One minister, who had more ribbons than the others and a gold seal of office, was talking to the Emperor with his head bowed. With the help of two other ministers the Emperor lowered himself onto a pile of embroidered cushions. The ministers all took their places behind the Emperor.
She felt a sudden sense of dread. It weighed heavy in her stomach. Two other people entered. One was a thin woman, dressed lavishly like the Emperor, with sleeves so wide they almost touched the floor. She sat down next to the Emperor. The girl guessed she was the Empress. The other newcomer was a dirty-looking man with the dark, lined skin of someone who has spent most of his life outdoors. His hair hung on his shoulders in matted strings. He wore a necklace made of animals’ teeth and clothing made of poorly cured hides. The smell of him turned the girl’s stomach. He had weapons and a length of chain hanging from his belt. He looked like a rough peasant, yet he sat facing the Emperor as if he were an honoured guest and the imperial ministers bowed to him.
Servants entered from the kitchen carrying silver trays on legs, set with gilt bowls and polished ivory chopsticks. With their heads bowed, they placed trays next to the Emperor and the Empress. The other trays were set among the ministers. The strange guest had a tray to himself just like the Emperor. More servants came in with bowls of steaming food and jars of wine. Everyone waited until the Emperor had finished eating the first course before they all began eating. The Emperor stuffed food into his mouth. They didn’t have to wait long.
Three musicians shuffled into the room with their heads bowed respectfully. They knelt at a distance. One musician had a large stringed instrument which the girl thought was a zither. He laid his instrument on the floor and started to play. The other musicians accompanied him with bells and drums. More and more food was brought from the kitchens. The attendants tried to stay one course behind their sovereign, but often had to leave food uneaten as the Emperor devoured each course at such a rate.
The girl’s mouth watered as she breathed in the aroma of the food. She could smell fish and ginger and soya sauce and other delicious smells that she didn’t recognise. She took a deep breath. It had been a long time since her midday meal of plain millet. The smell alone seemed to nourish her and brought a smile to her face. Her heartbeat slowed. Everything would be alright. She just had to stay hidden until the Emperor left. Then she could go back to where she belonged.
“Was his majesty happy with the lions I delivered to Chang’an?” the unpleasant man asked.
The minister with the gold seal dangling from his waist shuffled forward on his knees touching his forehead to the ground in front of the Emperor, who whispered a few quiet words to the back of the minister’s lowered head.
“His imperial majesty was very pleased, Master Diao,” the minister replied. “The lions provided great sport, though one mauled a minister to death before his imperial majesty was able to spear it.”
The Emperor whispered something to the minister.
”His imperial majesty wishes to hear of your expedition in barbarian lands.”
“I travelled to lands to the west in search of dragons.”
Behind the screen, the girl’s smile faded.
“I didn’t find any unfortunately, but I killed a huge grey beast with two white horns curling down on either side of a long snout. I have the horns if the Emperor is interested.”
The guest was silent while he ate three bowls of oxtail soup. Then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and spoke to the minister again.
“Has the Emperor considered my proposal, Grand Counsellor?”
Once again the minister shuffled forward to hear the Emperor’s words. Then he turned and bowed to the guest.
“His imperial majesty has considered your proposal for several minutes, Diao.” The Grand Counsellor tried to smile at the unpleasant man, but only succeeded in producing a look of distaste. “His imperial majesty will accept no less than four thousand jin for each creature.”
Diao sniffed and spat on the floor. “An excessive amount, Counsellor Tian,” he replied, “but I am a humble man and the Emperor’s will is the will of Heaven.”
“Good,” said the Grand Counsellor. “We will be rid of the ugly beasts.”
”His majesty is not fond of dragons?” inquired Diao.
“His imperial majesty has no feelings about dragons,” replied the minister sharply without conferring with the Emperor. “But he believes they will be put to better use in your hands.”
“Indeed.” Diao’s cruel face broke into a smile revealing three blackened teeth, a broken stump and two large gaps. “Dragon brain cures nose bleeds and boils. The liver is good for dysentery, particularly if cut from the live animal. Dragon saliva is used to make perfume.” Diao picked his teeth with a fish bone. “They are useful beasts.”
“You are very knowledgeable on the subject of dragons, Diao,” said Counsellor Tian.
“I’m a dragon hunter. It’s my job to know everything about them.”
The girl couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The Emperor was selling the imperial dragons to a hunter. What would he do when he discovered that only one beast was left?
“There can’t be very many dragons left in the world,” the Empress remarked.
“There were never that many,” replied Diao. “And there are very few now. Wild dragons are good at hiding from men.”
“Try this, my lord,” the Empress said to the Emperor. One of the smells that wafted towards the slave girl made her gasp with terrible recognition. It was a sharp, spicy smell she’d never forget as long as she lived. The dragon pickle. She watched horrified as the Emperor scraped the pickle onto his poached fish and picked up a morsel with his chopsticks. The girl didn’t know what would happen, but she was sure it would be bad.
“It is the most unusual pickle I have ever tasted,” the Empress continued. She turned to the Grand Counsellor. “Tian Fen, find out what ingredient is responsible for its strange flavour.”
The girl held her breath. This would be the moment she would be struck down by Heaven and the palace would tremble and collapse. The Emperor chewed the fish, and shrugged his shoulders.
The girl took a breath. She was still alive. The palace was still standing. The Emperor picked up a bean with his chopsticks and ate it. She mouthed prayers of thanks and hugged Hua. The rat, startled from sleep, nipped her finger. She let out a sharp squeal. The room went quiet. The ministers looked around for a culprit. Their eyes fell on the servant who was taking a stack of dirty bowls to the kitchen. The frightened servant shook his head and pointed to the screen. The two guards marched over to it and folded back a leaf of the screen.
The slave girl felt every pair of eyes in the room on her—including the imperial eyes. The
guards pointed their spears at her as if she were a dangerous criminal. The Empress stared with disgust at the grubby urchin girl who had materialised in the imperial dining room. Hua’s nose peeped out sniffing the fragrant air. The Empress screamed. The startled rat wriggled out of the girl’s jacket and scurried across the floor. The guards forgot about the girl and chased the rat.
Hua disappeared into a hole near the bottom of the wall. The girl ran to the door, but the guards were close behind her. She felt their spears dig into her back. She held her hands up and turned. The spear tips glinted in the bands of weak sunlight that seeped through the hall windows. The guards grabbed hold of her arms. They glared as if they would spear her if she dared move. How stupid she’d been to think that Heaven would overlook her crimes. The immortal beings weren’t favouring her. The Emperor was all-knowing, all-seeing, a god on Earth. He must have known about the death of the dragon all along.
She fell to her knees. “It wasn’t my fault the dragon died,” she pleaded. “I fed it and changed its straw. I know I helped turn it into pickle, but I had no choice. If I didn’t, Master Lan would have beaten me.”
“Died?” queried the Grand Counsellor.
“Pickle?” asked a minister.
“Tian Fen, bring Master Lan to me,” demanded a deep voice she hadn’t yet heard. It was the Emperor’s.
The sound of the imperial voice struck fear into the girl. Somehow she found the strength to wriggle free from the guards’ grasp. Somehow she managed to bolt to the door before they could grab her again. Somehow she found her way down the corridors without making a mistake. She didn’t turn to see if anyone was pursuing her. She just ran.
• chapter four •
ESCAPE
“Quick!” shouted the girl, undoing the rope
with fumbling fingers. “You have to escape. There’s
a dragon hunter here at Huangling.”
Dragonkeeper Page 3