Dragonkeeper

by Carole Wilkinson

  “Thank you,” she said though she had sandy water in her eyes and couldn’t see who had saved her. “It was kind of you to pull me out of the river, but I’m safe now. You can let go.”

  She wiped the water out of her eyes. On either side of her were guards in red uniforms with leather caps and vests. They weren’t smiling and they weren’t about to let go of her. More guards were standing in front of her. They were all pointing swords or spears in her direction. Other guards were surrounding the dripping dragon with swords drawn. They stared at this creature which had appeared like something out of a story. Danzi roared at them, a deep rumbling like metal being beaten. He tried to knock the weapons from their hands, but he couldn’t summon the strength. The weapons were all made of iron.

  Ping tried to concentrate her qi so that she could use it to throw the guards aside. She closed her eyes to picture a field of peonies, but could only conjure up an image of the few wilting plants at Huangling. She tried to count backwards from five hundreds, but kept losing her place and having to start again. A gurgling sound was distracting her. The boat that had carried them all the way along the Yellow River was stern up in the water. As she watched, air bubbled around the boat and it disappeared below the surface.

  “This is the sorceress of Huangling!” the captain shouted at the quaking guards. “She has stolen the imperial dragon. There’s a decree that she is to be captured and beheaded.”

  The guards holding Ping tightened their grip. They took her basket from her shoulder. Ping tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them.

  “We must capture the dragon as well,” ordered the captain of the guards.

  The guards surrounding Danzi stepped cautiously towards him. One of them had a length of rope. Danzi bared his huge teeth, threw back his head and let out a deep rumbling roar that sounded like thunder when a storm is overhead. He struck out with his talons. The guards all jumped back. One of them was clutching his arm. Blood oozed between his fingers as he tried to stop the bleeding from a deep cut. More guards appeared. They were carrying crossbows. They formed a circle around the dragon.

  ”Wait,” said Ping. “You mustn’t hurt him.”

  The guards didn’t take any notice of her.

  “Take aim,” said the captain of the guards.

  The guards pointed their crossbows at the dragon.

  “No!” shouted Ping. “The dragon belongs to the Emperor. Killing the one remaining imperial dragon would be punishable by death.”

  The guards glanced at their captain.

  An idea popped into Ping’s mind. “I am on my way to return the beast to his imperial majesty.”

  The guards looked at the girl with the dripping hair.

  “I’m not a sorceress,” she said. “I am the Imperial Dragonkeeper. If you stand aside I will control the dragon.”

  The commander nodded to the guards who lowered their weapons and let go of her. She took the coil of rope from the guard with the wounded arm and walked towards the dragon.

  A rumbling sound came from deep in the dragon’s throat. “What is Ping doing?”

  “Just play along,” she whispered. “I’ll convince them I’m returning you to the Emperor.”

  The dragon’s angry rumbling changed to a low growl. Ping made a loop in the rope.

  “Lower your head, dragon,” she said sternly.

  Danzi lowered his head and Ping slipped the rope over it.

  ”That’s very impressive,” said a voice behind her.

  Just as Ping turned to see who it was, the guard next to her slipped and fell forward on the path.

  A young boy was walking down the path to the river’s edge. Another guard also lost his footing and fell over. Ping looked at the stone path. It was particularly smooth and well made. She couldn’t understand why everyone was tripping over. The boy stood in front of Ping and Danzi and stared at them in what Ping thought was a rather impolite way. He was about ten and five years old and should have learned better manners by now.

  “Bow down before your Emperor,” hissed the guard, who was still kneeling on the path.

  Ping looked around. “I can’t see any Emperor.” She was getting irritated. “I’m dripping wet and cold,” she said, “and I don’t feel like arguing with an annoying boy.”

  “And I am in no mood to argue with a girl,” said the boy. “I am the Emperor.”

  “You could get into serious trouble for saying things like that,” she said. “If the real Emperor found out.”

  Ping looked around. All of the guards were kneeling with their foreheads on the ground. She and the boy were the only ones on their feet.

  “I am the real Emperor,” the boy said.

  Ping stared at him. His face was clear and without whiskers, like any boy his age. A small scar cut through his right eyebrow. His lips were pinched together as if he’d just sucked a lemon. She was about to say something else, when the guard pulled on her soaked gown and dragged her down to her knees. She tried to look up, but the guard’s large hand pinned down her head. All she could see was the hem of the boy’s gown and his slippers. The hem was attached to a black satin gown. It was decorated with dragons woven in gold thread. The dragons were woven in such a way that they were raised from the surface of the fabric. They looked so real they appeared to be about to jump off the gown. The slippers were covered with embroidery in a swirling spiral pattern that resembled wisps of high cloud. Ping had seen a similar hem and identical slippers before. They had belonged to the Emperor.

  • chapter nineteen •

  ANOTHER IMPERIAL BANQUET

  “If you are a slave, Ping,” the

  Emperor said, “then you belong to me

  just like the dragon.”

  Several ministers hurried down the path, their ribbons of office fluttering from their waists.

  “Who dares to offend the Emperor with such rudeness?” one of them said, out of breath.

  “I’m sorry,” said Ping, though it was difficult to speak with her face pushed into the path. “I didn’t realise he was the Emperor. I thought Emperors were all old and fat.”

  The boy’s tight mouth widened into a reluctant smile.

  “It is treason to speak to his imperial majesty in such a way!” said the minister with the most coloured ribbons and a gold seal hanging from his waist.

  Ping recognised the voice.

  “Let me see the girl’s face,” he said.

  The guard pulled Ping’s hair back. She looked at the minister. She knew him. He also knew her.

  “I have seen this wretch before, your majesty.” It was Tian Fen, the Emperor’s Grand Counsellor.

  The Emperor wasn’t listening to his Grand Counsellor. He was staring at the dragon.

  “She is the sorceress from Huangling,” Counsellor Tian continued. “She stole your father’s—”

  “Your imperial majesty,” Ping said, “I didn’t steal the dragon and I didn’t mean to crash into your boat either.”

  “You cannot speak directly to the Emperor!” shouted the Grand Counsellor.

  The boy Emperor raised a hand. “It’s alright, Counsellor Tian. I will question our prisoner.”

  The young Emperor dragged his eyes away from Danzi and looked at Ping.

  “Stand up.”

  Ping stood up. Water from her wet gown had formed a small pool beneath her.

  “She claims she is the Imperial Dragonkeeper, your majesty,” said the captain of the guards.

  The Emperor looked Ping up and down.

  ”If you don’t think I look like an Emperor, I don’t think you look like a Dragonkeeper,” the Emperor said.

  Ping couldn’t argue with that.

  “Though the creature is tame in your hands.” The Emperor stared at Danzi. “You say it’s an imperial dragon?”

  “He is, your imperial majesty,” Ping replied. “The last surviving imperial dragon.”

  “I was with your honoured father when this sorceress escaped with the imperial dragon, your
majesty,” said Counsellor Tian.

  “I’m not a sorceress. I am a slave,” said Ping. “I served Master Lan, the Imperial Dragonkeeper. He was not a good man. He was going to sell the dragon to a dragon hunter for his own profit. I only wanted to stop him from killing the dragon…your dragon, your imperial majesty.”

  “Why didn’t my father tell me about this dragon?” the boy asked.

  “Your revered father was not fond of dragons, your imperial majesty,” Counsellor Tian replied. “And he had much on his mind before his fatal illness.”

  Ping shuffled nervously, hoping the Emperor wasn’t going to question her about his father’s death.

  “She is a sorceress and cannot be trusted, your imperial majesty,” the Grand Counsellor continued.

  “But she has brought the dragon to me,” replied the Emperor. “All the way from Huangling Mountain.”

  Ping nodded.

  “What is your name?” asked the Emperor.

  “Ping, your imperial majesty.”

  “If you are a slave, Ping,” the Emperor said, “then you belong to me just like the dragon.”

  Ping opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind.

  “Your father decreed that she should be beheaded for her crimes, your majesty,” said Counsellor Tian.

  The Emperor walked over to the dragon. Danzi growled, but the boy didn’t flinch. He circled around the dragon inspecting him from head to foot.

  “It’s a handsome beast,” he said. “Does it have a name?”

  “His name is Long Danzi, your imperial majesty,” replied Ping.

  “Execution doesn’t seem to be a suitable reward for returning my one remaining dragon, Grand Counsellor,” said the Emperor. “I think I will reverse my father’s decree.”

  Counsellor Tian bowed. Danzi’s growl turned into a tinkling sound.

  “He’s making a different sound now,” the Emperor observed.

  “That means he’s happy, your imperial majesty,” Ping said.

  “Does he understand our speech?”

  ”Some of it.” Ping glanced at the dragon.

  The Emperor finished his circuit of the dragon.

  “Welcome to Ming Yang Lodge, Ping.” He turned to the guards. “Give the girl her basket and find her some dry clothing,” the boy commanded. “When she is rested she can join me in the Hall of Cool Fragrance for the evening meal.”

  One of the guards handed the basket to Ping. She held it tightly to her.

  “The dragon must be tied up in the stables,” said the Grand Counsellor.

  Danzi started to rumble again.

  “Can’t he stay with me?” asked Ping. “He’s very well behaved.” She looked at the guard with the bleeding arm. “Most of the time.”

  The Grand Counsellor shook his head. “No, the creature is dangerous. He must be safely confined.”

  The boy Emperor turned and went back up the path. The ministers hurried after him. The imperial guards, who were still holding on to Ping’s arms, led her up the path. Danzi walked behind her on the end of the rope. Ping had a chance to take in her surroundings for the first time. The ground rose gently from the river bank. There were no fields, no forests. The slopes had been transformed into a beautiful garden which stretched as far as Ping could see along the river’s edge. A stone path zigzagged up the hill, weaving its way through garden beds and stands of cypress trees. Flowers crowded on either side of the path. Ponds and streams were cut into the hillside so that they didn’t overflow. Cherry trees covered in blossom were scattered about the garden. At intervals the path wound its way through grottos of misshapen, craggy rocks which suggested the shape of lions or dragons or monkeys. There were also pretty pavilions. Ping would have liked to stop and sit in one of them, but the guards marched her past them ignoring the garden’s beauty. At the top of the hill was a beautiful house, bigger than any of the houses Ping had seen at Chang’an. It had a black terracotta roof just like Huangling Palace. It was two storeys high and had a wide balcony that was supported on thick columns.

  Ping went with Danzi to the stables. The stable hands glanced nervously at the dragon as they swept out a stall and put clean straw on the floor. She gave them instructions for the dragon to be fed on nothing but roasted swallow and milk, and for no iron to be within ten paces of him. She also insisted that they find some arsenic so that he could have a rejuvenating drink. As soon as the stable hands left to search for the dragon’s strange requirements, she took out the dragon stone and hid it under the straw at the back of the stall. Fortunately the Emperor and the guards had been so interested in the dragon they hadn’t searched her basket.

  “Ping has plan?” the dragon asked.

  ”Not exactly,” Ping replied. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”

  She reached behind one of the dragon’s reversed scales and lifted Hua out. He blinked as if he’d just woken up.

  “Are you alright, Hua?” she asked, scratching the rat behind his ears. “You stay here with Danzi. I have to go and eat with the Emperor. We don’t want you causing a fuss at another imperial meal.”

  Ping followed the guards to a large entrance hall. It contained finely carved tables each displaying a vase or a potted plant. Unlike the entrance hall at Huangling, its polished tables shone, the lanterns were free of spider webs and there wasn’t a speck of dust on the stone floor. The guards escorted her through the hall and along a corridor to a beautiful room. It contained a bed draped with fine silk hangings. The walls were painted with scenes of tall mountains wreathed in clouds. There were latticed windows the shape of lotuses which gave splendid views of the Yellow River as it swung in a curve below. Servants carried in a bath and started filling it with hot water from jars.

  “I don’t need a bath,” Ping tried to tell them. “It’s not even two months since I had the last one.”

  The servants took no notice and continued to fill the bath. It was late in the afternoon and Ping had been in wet clothes for over an hour. She was shivering.

  ”I suppose a hot bath would warm me up,” she said.

  Master Lan had had a bath similar to this one, a wooden tub, like a wine vat, but lower and wider. Ping had never bathed in a bath before. She took off her wet gown and climbed into the tub. The water was as warm as the hot spring pool. The servant had sprinkled dried rose petals in the water so the steam was fragrant. She lay back in the water and relaxed. If she had servants to fill a tub for her, perhaps she could get used to bathing regularly—possibly even twice a month.

  When she stepped out of the bath, she found that her wet gown had been removed and a neatly folded clean one was in its place. This was not a gown for outdoors. It was made of fine blue silk woven with white flowers. She slipped the gown on. It was cool and light against her skin. It had deep sleeves that reached halfway to the floor. There were also clean white socks and silk slippers.

  An imperial guard arrived to escort her to the Hall of Cool Fragrance which was in the upper storey of the house and reached by a flight of wide stone stairs. Ping was the first to arrive. The room was similar to the dining hall at Huangling, except that on the floors there were all sorts of animal skins instead of carpets. Ping recognised the pelt of a bear, the dabbled hide of a deer. The most beautiful skin was striped yellow and black. This, she guessed, was the skin of a tiger. She’d seen paintings of these creatures at Huangling Palace.

  Before she had time to examine the paintings on the walls, the Grand Counsellor entered, followed by the Emperor, two servants and six ministers. The ministers looked at her suspiciously as they took their places. The ministers and the servants were all kneeling with their foreheads resting on the floor. Ping quickly knelt down and put her forehead to the floor as well.

  “Come and sit over here with me, Ping,” the Emperor said as he took his place on a large cushion, waving away his servants as they tried to assist him.

  Ping stood up, tripping on the long sleeves of her gown. She stumbled over to sit at the Emper
or’s side. The ministers glared at her.

  As soon as the Emperor was seated, servants brought in tables set with beautiful black and red lacquer bowls and ebony chopsticks with precious stones set in the ends. There were also wine cups which looked to Ping as if they were made of gold. The Emperor had his own table, just as the old Emperor had at Huangling. The ministers had to share tables. The servant set down a table next to Ping. She was to have one all to herself.

  “I’m not really hungry,” said the Emperor. “So I have asked for a light meal tonight. I hope there will be enough for you.”

  Ping was rather hungry. With all the events of the day, she hadn’t had anything to eat since early morning.

  The servants poured wine into the gold cups and then brought out the first course. Ping stared at the dish that the servant placed in front of her. It looked like a turtle shell. Ping had never heard of anyone eating turtle shell before. In fact she was pretty sure it would be like gnawing on old bones. The servant reached out to the shell, as if she could read Ping’s mind and was about to take it away. But as she grasped it the top came off. The bottom half was filled with steaming stew.

  “Turtle stew,” the Emperor said when he saw Ping staring at it. “It’s quite good.”

  The Emperor, despite his lack of hunger, eagerly started eating. Ping remembered how at Huangling everyone had waited until the Emperor had finished his first course before they started eating. Ping’s stomach was rumbling urgently at the smell of the stew, but she waited.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” asked the Emperor.

  “Yes, I am, your imperial majesty,” replied Ping, “but—”

  “Eat then!”

  That sounded like an imperial command, so Ping ignored the scowling ministers and started to eat. The Emperor concentrated on his own bowl of stew until his turtle shell was empty. Ping was glad to see that the young Emperor had better table manners than his father. She followed his imperial example. The turtle stew was delicious.