Sakota sank back into the chair. “But—but why?” she stammered. “Why do you speak to me so? Are we not kin? Is not the Emperor our mutual lord?”
“It is for our son that I ask your favor,” Yehonala said, “and never for myself. I have no need of anyone. Yet I must be sure that you are for our son and not against him.”
Each lady knew what the other meant. In the division of continuing intrigue among the princes and the eunuchs, Yehonala was saying, she must be certain that Sakota would not accept the leadership of those who might plot to destroy the Heir and set another upon the Dragon Throne. By her silence Sakota announced that there was such intrigue and that she did not wish to give her promise.
Yehonala stepped forward while she gave her son to a lady to hold for her. “Give me your hands, Cousin.” Her voice was smooth and resolute. “Promise me that none can divide us. We must live out our lives together here within these walls. Let us be friends and not enemies.”
She waited while Sakota hesitated and did not put out her hands. Then suddenly, her great eyes furious, Yehonala leaned down and grasped those two small soft hands and crushed them so fiercely that the tears rushed to Sakota’s eyes. So Yehonala had used to do when they were children. Whenever Sakota had pouted and rebelled, Yehonala had crushed her hands until they ached.
“I—I promise,” Sakota said in a broken voice.
“And I promise,” Yehonala said firmly.
She put the two small hands on Sakota’s satin lap again, and she saw what all the ladies saw, that the thin gold shields of her nails had cut red stripes into the tender flesh and Sakota put her hands together and let the tears of pain run down her cheeks.
But Yehonala said no word of sorrow for what she had done. She bowed, she waved aside the bowl of tea that a lady offered her.
“I will not stay, Cousin,” she said in her usual lovely voice. “I came for this promise and now I have it. It is mine, so long as my life lasts and so long as my son’s life lasts. Nor will I forget that I, too, have given my own promise.”
With surpassing pride, this proud woman let her eyes circle from one face to another. Then she turned and sweeping her golden robes about her she took back her son and went away.
That night when she had seen her child fed and sleeping in the arms of his nurse she sent for Li Lien-ying. He was never far off from where she was and now when he had come, she commanded him to bring to her the Chief Eunuch, An Teh-hai.
“Tell him I have a trouble that I brood upon,” she said.
So Li Lien-ying went and in an hour or two he brought the Chief Eunuch, who said, after greeting, “Forgive me, Venerable, for delay. I was busy in the Emperor’s bedchamber and under his command.”
“You are forgiven,” Yehonala said. She pointed her forefinger at a chair upon which he was to sit, and she sat down in her own thronelike chair by the long carved table set against the inner wall of the room. Her ladies she had dismissed and only Li Lien-ying and her woman remained with her.
Li Lien-ying now made pretense also to withdraw, but Yehonala bade him stay.
“What I have to say is for both of you, for I must count you two as my left hand and my right.”
She went on then to inquire of the intrigues which her ladies had whispered into her ears. “Is this true?” she asked of the Chief Eunuch. “Are there those who plot to seize the Throne from my son, if—” She paused, for none who spoke of the Emperor could say the word “death.”
“Lady, all is true.” The Chief Eunuch nodded his handsome heavy head.
“Say on,” she commanded.
“Venerable, you must know,” he said, obeying, “that no one among the mighty clans believed that the Emperor could beget a sound son. When the Consort gave birth to a sickly girl, certain of the princes took heart and they plotted how, the moment that the Emperor departed for the Yellow Springs, they would steal the imperial seal. Alas—alas—” again he shook his head, “we may not expect a long reign. The Emperor is young in years, but the Dowager Mother loved him too well. He fed on sweets when he was a child, and when he had pains in his belly she ordered opium for him. Before he was twelve years of age he was debauched by eunuchs and by sixteen he was exhausted by women. Let me speak the truth.”
Here the Chief Eunuch put his large smooth hands on his knees and he made his voice so low that Li Lien-ying had to lean to hear it.
“In wisdom,” the Chief Eunuch said, his wide face solemn, “we must now count our friends and enemies.”
Yehonala sat without moving while he spoke. It was her grace that she could sit for hours motionless and at ease, an upright imperial figure. She looked at him now without a sign of fear.
“Who are our enemies?” she asked.
“First, the Grand Councilor, Su Shun,” the Chief Eunuch whispered.
“He!” she exclaimed. “And I have taken his daughter as my court lady and my favorite!”
“Even he,” the Chief Eunuch said gravely, “and with him the Emperor’s own nephew, Prince Yi, and after him Prince Cheng. These three, Venerable, are your first enemies, because you have given us an heir.”
She bowed her head. The danger was as great as she had imagined. These were mighty princes, related by blood and clan to the Emperor himself. And she was but a woman.
She lifted her head proudly. “And who are my friends?”
The Chief Eunuch cleared his throat. “Above all others, Venerable, Prince Kung, the younger brother of the Son of Heaven.”
“Is he indeed my friend?” she exclaimed. “Then he is worth all the rest.” She was still so young that any hope was hope enough and the red blood ran to her cheeks.
“When Prince Kung saw you,” the Chief Eunuch declared, “he said to a clansman standing near, who told me, that you were a woman so clever and so beautiful that either you would bring good fortune to the realm or you would destroy the Dragon Throne.”
These words Yehonala received into her thoughtful mind. She pondered them and for a space of time she sat entirely silent. Then she drew her breath in a long sigh.
“If I am to bring good fortune, I must have my weapons,” she said.
“True, Venerable,” the Chief Eunuch replied and waited.
“My first weapon,” she continued, “must be the power of rank.”
“True, Venerable,” the Chief Eunuch said again and waited.
“Return to the Emperor,” Yehonala commanded. “Put into his mind that the Heir is in danger. Put into his mind that only I can protect our child. Put into his mind that he must raise my rank to equal that of the Consort, so that she cannot have power over the Heir, or be used by those who crave such power.”
The Chief Eunuch smiled at such cleverness, and Li Lien-ying laughed, cracking his finger joints one after the other to show his pleasure.
“Lady,” the Chief Eunuch said, “I will put it in the Emperor’s mind that he so reward you on the Heir’s first moon birthday. What day could be more auspicious?”
“None,” she agreed.
She looked into his small black eyes set deep beneath his high smooth forehead and suddenly her own face dimpled and smiled and her great eyes shone with mischief, mirth and triumph.
The first month of her son’s life was completed. The moon had been full when he was born and it was full again. Certain dangers were passed, the danger of the ten-day madness, whereby infants the before ten days are spent; the danger of flux, whereby the bowels of an infant run out like water; the danger of continual vomiting; the danger of cough and cold and fever. At the end of this first month the Heir was fat and healthy, his will already imperious, and his hunger constant, so that his wetnurse must be ready day and night for his demand. This wetnurse Yehonala had chosen herself, a strong young country housewife, a Chinese, whose child was also a first son, and whose milk therefore was suited to the royal nursling. But Yehonala had not been content to have the Court physicians judge the woman sound and healthy. No, she must herself examine the woman’s body and tast
e the sweetness of her milk and smell her breath to discover any taint of sourness in it. And she herself prescribed the woman’s diet and saw to it that she was served only the best and richest foods. Upon such milk the princeling throve like any peasant’s child.
On this first moon birthday of his heir, then, the Emperor had decreed that feasts must be held throughout the nation. Here in the Forbidden City the day was to be given over entire to feasting and to music, and when he sent the Chief Eunuch to inquire of Yehonala what she would like for her own pleasure on this auspicious day she put her private craving into words.
“I do long to see a good play,” she told An Teh-hai. “Not since I came to live beneath these golden roofs have I seen a play. The Dowager Mother did not like actors, and I dared not ask while she lived, and in the months of mourning for her I could not ask. But now—will the Son of Heaven indulge me?”
An Teh-hai could not but smile at the sight of her face, flushed and ardent as a child’s, the great eyes hopeful.
“The Son of Heaven will refuse you nothing now, lady,” he told her, and he blinked and nodded his head many times to signify that she would indeed receive reward far larger than a play. Then forthwith he hastened off to do her bidding.
Thus it came about that on the day of feasting Yehonala had her lesser desire, too, while she waited for the greater, the pleasure of a play as well as her increase in rank. But first the gifts must be presented and received. For these rites the Emperor chose the throne room named the Palace of Surpassing Brightness. Here at dawn there waited men from all parts of the realm and among them eunuchs passed to and fro to tend the huge lanterns swinging from the beams, whereon were painted the imperial five-clawed dragons. These lanterns were made of horn and they gave forth such a light that, falling on the robes of eunuchs and of guests, it picked out the gold embroideries and the encrusted jewels of the throne. Every hue and color glowed at once, the crimson and the purple deep and strong, the scarlet and the bright blue accenting, and gold and silver glittering for sharpness.
In silence all waited for the coming of the Son of Heaven, and when dawn broke across the sky the imperial procession appeared, its banners streaming in the morning breeze and carried by the guardsmen in their scarlet tunics. Next came the princes, then the eunuchs, marching slowly two by two, in robes of purple belted with gold. In their mist twelve bearers bore the sacred yellow dragon palanquin in which sat the Son of Heaven himself. Within the Throne Hall all fell upon their knees and knocked their heads nine times upon the floor and shouted out their greeting, “Ten thousand years—ten thousand years—ten thousand years!”
The Emperor came down from his palanquin and with his right hand upon his brother’s arm and his left upon the arm of the Grand Councilor Su Shun, he mounted the golden throne. There, seated in precise dignity, his hands palms down upon his knees, he received in order the princes and the ministers who presented imperial gifts for the Heir. Their hands did not touch the gifts, for these were placed on trays and silver plates and brought by bearers, but Prince Kung read the lists of gifts and whence they came, from what provinces, what ports and cities, what country regions, and the Chief Eunuch, An Teh-hai, with brush and book, marked down the name of the giver and what the gift was and how much was its worth, and that he might set the value high, the givers had earlier bribed him with secret gifts of goods and money.
Now a screen stood behind the throne as usual, a mighty stretch of scented wood, most cunningly carved with five-clawed dragons, and behind it Yehonala and the Consort sat with their ladies. When all the gifts had been accepted, the Emperor summoned Yehonala to receive his own reward. The Chief Eunuch brought the summons and he led her from her place and she approached the Dragon Throne. She stood there for one instant, tall and straight, her head high, looking neither to the right nor left. Then slowly in obeisance she sank to her knees and laid her hands, one on the other, upon the tiled floor and put her forehead on her crossed hands.
Above her the Emperor waited and now he began to speak. “I do this day decree that the mother of the Imperial Heir, here kneeling, is to be raised to rank of Consort, equal in all ways to the present Consort. That there be no confusion, the present Consort shall be known as Tzu An, the Empress of the Eastern Palace, and the Fortunate Mother shall be known as Tzu Hsi, the Empress of the Western Palace. This is my will. It shall be declared across the realm, that it may be known to all people.”
These words Yehonala heard and her blood ran strong and joyful to her heart. Who could harm her now? She had been lifted up and by the Emperor’s hand. Three times and three times and yet three times more she touched her forehead to her hands. Then, rising to her feet, she stood until the Chief Eunuch put out his right arm and, leaning on it, she returned again to her place behind the Dragon Screen. But when she was seated, she did not turn her head to look at Sakota, nor did Sakota speak.
While Yehonala had stood before the Dragon Throne the vast multitude in the Banquet Hall was silent. Not one voice spoke except the Emperor’s and not one hand stirred. And from that day she was no longer called Yehonala. Tzu Hsi, the Sacred Mother, was her imperial name.
That same night Tzu Hsi was summoned to the Emperor. For three months she had received no summons, the two months before her son’s birth and the one month since. But now the time was come. She welcomed the call, for it was proof that the imperial favor still was hers, not only for her son’s sake but for her own. Well enough she knew that in these months the Emperor had made use of one concubine and another, and each had hoped that she could displace her who was most favored. Tonight would tell her whether any had succeeded, and eagerly she made herself ready to follow the Chief Eunuch who waited in the entrance of her palace.
Ah, but now how hard it was to leave! The child’s bed stood by her bed. His own rooms had been prepared for him before his birth, but she had not let him go from her, even for a night, nor yet tonight. Ready and robed in soft pink satin, jeweled and perfumed, she could not force herself away from the boy who slept, replete with human milk, upon the silken mattress. Two women sat beside him, one the wetnurse, and the other her own woman.
“You are not to leave him for one breath of time,” she warned them. “If when I return, though it be at dawn, mind you, if he is hurt or weeping or if a spot of red is anywhere upon his flesh, I will have you both beaten and if he is harmed at all, your heads will be the price.”
Both women stared to see her look so fiercely at them, the wetnurse awed, and the woman amazed at the courteous mistress she thought she knew.
“Since the Empress of the Western Palace has borne the child,” she said in a mild voice, “she has become a tigress. Be sure, Venerable, that we will guard him better even than you tell us how to do.”
But Tzu Hsi had more commands. “And Li Lien-ying must sit outside, and my ladies must not sleep soundly.”
“It shall all be so,” the woman promised.
Still Tzu Hsi could not go away. She leaned above her sleeping child and saw his rosy face, the pouting lips soft and red, the eyes full and large, the ears close to the head and set low, the lobes long, and these were all signs of high intelligence. Whence did her child receive his beauty? Hers alone, surely, was not enough for this perfection. His father—
She broke off thinking and reached for his hand, first his right hand and then his left, and gently pressing open the curling fingers she smelled the soft baby palms, as mothers do. Oh, what a treasure now was hers!
“Venerable!”
She heard An Teh-hai’s voice bumbling from the outer room. The Chief Eunuch grew impatient, not for his own sake, but for her own. She knew by now that he was her ally in the secret palace war, and she must heed him well. She stayed then only to perform one more task. From her dressing table she chose two gifts, a ring of gold and a thin bracelet set with seed pearls. These gifts she gave the two women, the ring to her own woman and the bracelet to the wetnurse, and thus she bribed them to their duty. Then she hastened out
and there was Li Lien-ying, her eunuch, waiting with An Teh-hai. To her eunuch she gave a piece of gold without a word; he knew what it meant, and while she went with An Teh-hai, he stayed behind to guard her son.
Inside the bosom of her robe she held gold in a packet for the Chief Eunuch, too, but she would not give it to him until she saw how the Emperor received her. Did the night go well, then he would have his prize. And the Chief Eunuch understood this, and he led her by the well known narrow ways to the imperial center of the Forbidden City.
“Come here to me,” the Emperor said.
She stood at the threshold of his vast chamber, that he might see her in all her strong beauty. Upon his command she walked slowly toward him, swaying as she went with that grace she knew so well how to use. She was not humble but she feigned shyness and assumed a sweet coyness which was half real and half pretended. For it was this woman’s power that she could be almost what she feigned and planned to be, and so she became nearly what she would be, at any moment and in any place. She was not deceiving, for she deceived herself as much as the person before whom she appeared.
Thus now when she approached the imperial bed, as wide and long as a room inside the yellow curtains and the net of gold, she felt sudden pity. The man who waited for her here was surely doomed for death. Young as he was, he had spent his force too soon.
She hastened the last few steps to him. “Ah,” she cried, “you are ill and no one told me, my Lord of Heaven!”
Indeed by the light of the great candles in their golden stand he looked so wan, his yellow skin stretched tightly across the fine small bones of his face and frame, that he seemed a living skeleton propped there against the yellow satin pillows. His two hands, palms upward, lay lifeless on the quilts. She sat down on the bed and put out her warm strong hands and felt his dry and cold.
“Have you pain?” she asked anxiously.
“No pain,” he said. “A weakness—”
“But this hand,” she insisted. She took up his left hand. “It feels different from the other—colder, more stiff.”
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