The Sword Dancer

by Jeanne Lin

  ‘Huh, you should split the reward money with me.’ Longxu shoved the hook back into his belt and approached. ‘I helped you capture her.’

  Han tore his gaze away from the dancer. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘What? The great Zheng Hao Han is too exalted to share?’

  The dancer stilled. Her gaze moving over his face as if seeing him for the first time. ‘Thief-catcher Han?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘That is how I’m known,’ he replied.

  Apparently he’d made a name for himself, though not any name his family would be proud of. Han shifted his grip, taking a hold of the dancer’s wrist and locking it behind her back. This time she didn’t resist.

  ‘He can’t be Zheng Hao Han,’ she said in a biting tone as he marched her back towards the municipal hall. ‘Thief-catcher Han goes after notorious murderers and villains.’

  Han did feel quite the bully. She was slight of build and deceptively delicate in his grasp, but she was no ordinary dancer. She’d been formally trained in the fighting arts, which meant she deserved some respect…and caution.

  The village municipal hall was a single building not much larger than the tavern. A clerk sat at a desk. He unrolled a scroll as Han approached. ‘The suspect’s name?’

  ‘Wen Li Feng,’ the dancer said.

  The clerk looked her over with morbid interest. She glared back at him and he shrank back, writing down her name quickly.

  ‘There were several others brought in as well. But we only have two holding cells here.’

  The prison was built much like a stable with a separate pen for prisoners and vents cut into the walls for light and air. Infractions were punished swiftly and there was no need to hold prisoners for any length of time. The constable relied on shackles and other heavy restraints to keep prisoners in line.

  Han clamoed irons over the dancer’s wrists, forgoing the cangue, a heavy board which was locked around the neck to trap a prisoner’s head. She was a woman after all. Tomorrow she would be transported to Taining where the crime had occurred.

  ‘You’ve been trained,’ he said, meeting her eyes. ‘Who is your shifu?’

  ‘I have no master.’

  Her reply was spoken without emotion, but something flickered beneath the calm surface of her face.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.

  ‘It’s all for show, thief-catcher. A dance.’

  It wasn’t just the skill with which she wielded a sword that had him convinced otherwise. The inner calm and confidence she exuded during their battle and the subsequent chase didn’t come without discipline.

  ‘Are you arresting me because of the sword?’ she asked. ‘It was fake, as you must know.’

  ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of theft.’

  ‘I’m not a thief,’ she stated evenly.

  ‘Then you’ll be found innocent and released.’

  She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Do you really think that is how the tribunal works?’

  Not many realised it, but Han had more knowledge of how the judicial halls operated than he had use for. The dancer wasn’t acting guilty, but she wasn’t quite acting innocent

  either. Not that it was his place to determine guilt or innocence. That was for the magistrate in Taining to decide.

  The constable had finished transferring the other prisoners into a single cell. The dancer was the lone female who had been captured. Han had a feeling the others were harmless performers, but Wen Li Feng was something very different.

  She’d fought ruthlessly, as if her life depended on it. But when he’d lost his balance on the rooftop, when she could have made her escape, she had reached out to stop his fall instead. That debt hung over him and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

  Han wasn’t one to be swayed by the pleas or protests of his targets. He caught the criminals and brought them in. Yet the sword dancer was neither pleading nor protesting. His last vision was of her looking around the holding cell, her hands weighted down by thick chains that appeared grotesque and imposing over such a graceful figure.

  * * *

  Li Feng lowered herself to the floor of the prison cell, leaning her back against one wall. The floor was packed dirt and there was a bucket in the corner that she preferred to stay away from.

  Her instinct was to get up, to move even if there was nothing to be accomplished by it. Fighting against the urge, she closed her eyes. She tried to breathe in deeply and then out, circulating the energy as shifu had taught her. Trying to stay calm. To stay focused.

  It wasn’t working.

  Li Feng raised her knees and laid her head down upon them. By nature, she didn’t like small spaces. She had grown up on a mountainside, away from the confines of the city.

  She had been right to leave Bao Yang and his band of rebels. There was a time when she had thought she fit in perfectly among them. That they were the only people who would ever accept someone like her.

  Shifu had taken care of Li Feng after finding her in hiding and alone in the woods, but he had always treated her like his disciple rather than a daughter. It suited her fine to call him shifu, to respectfully refer to him as her master, because she already had a mother and a father. They had been taken from her by force.

  Maybe that was why she had been charmed so easily into Bao Yang’s cause as well as his bed. Two years ago, she had just left the isolation of Mount Wudang to venture back into civilisation. In her heart, she had always dreamed of one day finding her family, or at least discovering what had happened to them. She had been too young to remember anything but fleeing with her mother’s hand clasped around hers. Mother had told her to hide. Li Feng remembered they had been running, but she couldn’t remember why. She also remembered the men with the swords who were chasing them.

  After an indeterminately long time, she raised her head. It was getting dark inside the cell. She heard the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps which stopped outside. She stood and peered through the cell door to see a young man holding a tray of food.

  ‘This must be the most generous village in the province to feed prisoners so well,’ she remarked.

  The boy lacked the grim countenance of a watchman. ‘This is from your admirer.’

  Admirer? She read the answer from his lopsided grin. ‘Thief-catcher Han?’ she asked in disbelief.

  He nodded. Apparently he found it funny as well. ‘The other prisoners in the next stall are eating watery rice porridge. Your dance must have made an impression.’

  Zheng Hao Han must have had a strange sense of humour to lock her up yet see that she was fed.

  ‘Should I take this back?’ he asked.

  Li Feng shook her head and he slid the tray through the opening in the door.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said as he turned to go. ‘Is the thief-catcher standing guard out there?’

  ‘No, he’s at the tavern drinking with his cronies.’

  Celebrating, more like. The dog.

  She had first noticed him during her performance. The intensity of his eyes had been enough to break her focus. There was a broadness to his nose and chin and he had an overall rough-boned look that was tempered by the subtle curve of his mouth. She’d noticed because he had been smiling at her, or rather smiling to himself while he was watching her. It was a sly sort of smile, with one corner lifted higher than the other, as if he’d figured out all her secrets.

  And of all the thief-catchers that came for her, it had to be the famous Thief-catcher Han that captured her. The formidable warrior, the relentless hunter, the this and the that. Though Han was tall, he certainly wasn’t the giant ox of a man she’d expected, yet he was still strong enough and fast enough to catch her.

  Zheng Hao Han had stood out from the surrounding crowd, dressed in a sombre dark robe, with the hilt of a weapon protruding from his belt. She should have known to flee then.

  Her shifu had trained her to fight so she wouldn’t have to be afraid, yet seeing those men brought back not only that o
ld fear, but also all of the untold anger she had kept inside her. All her life, she had hated those nameless, faceless strangers who had taken her mother away.

  Her anger was without focus until she had met Bao Yang. He had provided the perfect target. General Wang was a

  tyrant, he’d told her. All of the local authorities were afraid to challenge him and he was intent on seizing more power.

  So Li Feng had joined Bao Yang’s group of dissidents. They had disrupted the General’s supply lines, stolen back the grain and livestock he would commandeer to feed his garrison, and worked to cut away at General Wang’s stranglehold over the district in any way they could. But the moment she had seen that extravagant cache of jade and gold, Li Feng knew it was not the typical tribute demanded by General Wang of the local aristocrats and merchants. She had become involved in something more dangerous than she had realised.

  Something else in that shipment had finally pulled her away from her alliance with Bao Yang and his rebels. Something that reminded her of why she had originally returned to Fujian province. For the first time in nearly twenty years, she had seen something that was possibly connected to her mother. It was a sign from heaven.

  Li Feng knelt before the tray. There was a bowl of rice with a mix of bamboo shoots and mushrooms. It was a simple meal. The real extravagance was the small lamp set beside it. The flame danced within the saucer, providing a tiny orb of light so she wouldn’t have to eat in the dark. Li Feng finished every last grain of rice. When adrift on endless roads, one never knew when the next meal would be.

  It was late into the evening now and the sounds of the village outside the prison house had quieted to a murmur. The constable would be off to his bed. The night watch, if there was one, would be settling in for their vigil. She could hear the sound of muted voices through the wall. The poor members of the dance troupe who’d had the misfortune of being in her company.

  Li Feng waited a little longer. It was difficult to exercise such patience when trapped as she was. Once she was certain the sky was dark outside, she stood and wrapped one hand around the other. She pushed at her knuckles and shifted the joints beneath the ring of iron. After some twisting, she tugged her hand free. The other manacle quickly followed. She dropped the heavy chain at her feet and blew out the lamp, leaving the cell in complete darkness.

  Chapter Two

  After escaping from the prison house, Li Feng was forced to leave her companions behind. The thief-catchers and constables would be searching for a dancer so she thought it best to stay away from the performance troupes she typically travelled with. Besides, her quest was now a personal one.

  Li Feng approached the jade shop as she did all the others—with a sense of hope. An artisan in the last village had directed her to this mid-sized town, indicating that the shop here was a successful one that would know more about the type of piece she was interested in.

  It was only a few hours until the closing of the market. Soon after that, evening would be upon her and she needed to be in a safe location for the night. A woman on her own had to be careful of these things.

  There were two worlds beyond the solitude of Wudang Mountain. There was the realm of the cities, an orderly and structured place separated by walls and governed by law. A gong dictated what time merchants were to bring their wares to market and when to close up shop and go home. Then there was another world alongside it. A place of roads and dust and dark city corners that didn’t adhere to the same boundaries. The inhabitants here were dancers and musicians, monks and beggars. This was also the world where smugglers and bandits operated.

  An unspoken fellowship existed among those that travelled the roads for the sake of both companionship and protection. When Li Feng left her shifu, she had met up with a dance troupe that travelled from village to village. Sword dancing had become popular with the crowds, and with some practice she had executed one that was entertaining enough that the performers welcomed her into the fold.

  With the dance, a part of her had reawakened. Mother had been a dancer, she was certain of it. Li Feng had a memory of her in colourful costumes: a princess in mourning, a flying goddess, a flower bearer. Li Feng could almost hear a firm, but gentle voice from long ago, telling her to hold her head high and keep her back straight, her toes pointed.

  She also remembered travelling with her family as a child. They would sleep under a different roof every night or sometimes beneath the stars with Mother curled up beside her. She had had a father, too, but his face was blurred and faded like all the others in her memory. She was afraid that if she didn’t come back and reclaim her own past, one day her mother’s face would fade as well.

  When she had joined Bao Yang in his campaign against the warlord, that struggle had momentarily taken the place of her determination to find her family. She had nothing tangible to connect her to the past except for a few vague descriptions of hills and rivers from Wen shifu and a jade carving that her mother had pressed into her hands.

  A carving that had been a complete mystery to her until now.

  The inside of the jade shop was undecorated other than the figurines and trinkets gleaming on the counter. The shopkeeper who greeted her was also dressed in a plain brown robe. No one trusted a shopkeeper who looked like he made too much of a profit.

  ‘Miss.’ His respectful tone tapered off as he eyed her up and down. He was likely accustomed to wealthier customers and her plain tunic failed to impress.

  Li Feng glanced over the array of bracelets and finery. She had been in so many of these shops in the last days that she was nearly an expert herself.

  She pulled out the carved pendant from her sash. ‘Sir, can you tell me more about this?’

  It was an oblong tablet that fit easily in the palm of her hand. A magnificent bird was carved on to it, with wings spread in flight. A red tassel adorned one end. Years of being kept close to her body had changed the creamy jade to a deeper, richer colour.

  The shopkeeper held the pendant up and his eyes lit momentarily, just long enough for her to catch the interest in them, before his expression became hooded.

  ‘Not very high quality,’ he said, affecting a tone of ennui. ‘I can give you twenty cash and that’s generous.’

  Did he think she was a child of three? ‘It wasn’t my intention to sell. There is an inscription on the back of the jade that I was told someone here might recognise—’

  He shook his head and pushed the jade back to her. ‘That is my final offer, young miss.’

  This sort only cared about the number of coins in his drawer at the end of the day. Perplexed, Li Feng picked up the pendant and wove around the counter. She ignored his squawk of protest as she pushed through a beaded curtain.

  An elderly craftsman sat at a table in the workroom in back. He was busy polishing a statuette of a dragon with a pearl in its mouth. He paused to look up at her with mild interest while his hands remained poised over the pale-green stone.

  ‘Honourable sir,’ she began. ‘If you would kindly look on the back of this pendant. I was told by the jade carver in Quantou village that you might be of assistance.’

  He looked her over just as the shopkeeper had, but the craftsman took the jade and turned it over in his hands with care.

  ‘Nanyang jade,’ he proclaimed. ‘The carving depicts the Vermilion Bird. Most likely part of a set of four.’

  Her heart thudded with excitement. She had indeed seen three others in the same style and with the same inscription on the back, an inscription she didn’t recognise. Bao Yang had noticed her strange look when they had sifted through the stolen treasure. He had offered the set of three to her as a gift as they had been at odds at the time. It always seemed that they were in disagreement about one thing or another during their brief liaison.

  Li Feng had no interest in any of the riches from the heist. Bao Yang’s rebellion against General Wang had started to appear more and more like a personal feud. Coming across that set of jade had been fate, if one believed
in such things.

  The old man held the pendant up, squinting at the corner. ‘The artist inscribed it with his name.’

  Li Feng leaned in close, waiting as patiently as she could to hear more, but instead of continuing, the craftsman glanced up at her.

  ‘I know who you are.’

  ‘You do?’ Her pulse skipped and her deepest dreams beckoned from the shadows. Maybe this man had known her family. She was about to find the answer to a riddle. To her riddle. Where she came from. Who she was.

  ‘You stole this,’ he accused.

  Her hope shrivelled to dust. ‘I didn’t steal it. It’s mine.’

  The craftsman ignored her protest and started shouting for the shopkeeper. Li Feng darted forwards to snatch the jade from his fingers before hurrying out the front door.

  The street outside was thick with activity. Painted signboards marked each shop and wares were displayed out in the street to entice customers. She slipped into the crowd, matching the shuffling pace of those around her though her heart pounded insistently, telling her to run. At any moment, she expected to hear the merchant from the jade shop shouting after her. ‘Thief! You stole it!’

  But he was wrong. This jade pendant was the one thing that belonged to her. Her mother had put it into her hands with her final parting words. ‘Don’t cry, Xiao Feng. Don’t cry.’

  Little phoenix, don’t cry. Those hadn’t been words of comfort. Her mother was giving her a desperate plea and a warning. Li Feng remembered that she and her mother were running from someone, but she couldn’t remember why.

  * * *

  Her current hideout was a hovel a short distance from the main road. The roof was missing shingles and the wooden structure was overgrown with moss. Such a place had once provided shade, drink and a convenient place to rest one’s horse on the journey between cities. Now it provided her temporary shelter from the wind and rain.

  Li Feng took care before returning. She held back and led her horse on a meandering path through the woods outside the city until she was confident that no one followed her. The sun was setting as she ventured back to the abandoned tavern. This stretch of road had become a hunting ground for bandits, according to local gossip, and was treacherous for travellers day or night.