Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon (17 page)

The junior minister began reading the dragon books to Ping. She tried to follow the characters, but his finger flew down the columns and she couldn’t keep up.

The first book was a list of all the Dragonkeepers for three-times-a-hundred years. There were twice-ten- and-three names. The minister read them all out to Ping. They were all males. Ping’s name wasn’t on the list. Neither was Master Lan’s. The last name was Lao
Lan, who was Master Lan’s father.

“Some of the Dragonkeepers had very short terms of office,” Ping said. “What happened to them?”

“Some were old when they took up the position,” the minister explained. “One died when he fell from the back of a flying dragon. One was executed for allowing a dragon to bite a Prince. One died in some sort of accident.”

Ping couldn’t help thinking that dragon-keeping was a very precarious profession.

“There were twelve dragons then,” the minister said.

Being a dragon was far more dangerous. So many dragons had died. It brought tears to Ping’s eyes.

Ping didn’t see Liu Che the next day. He ate in his chambers and was busy with his ministers behind closed doors. In the afternoon the junior minister came and continued to read from the bamboo books. He read out events that were recorded during each Emperor’s reign.

“When Emperor Shen Jing died, the red dragon dropped a pearl from its mouth. Rays of sunlight shone on him and green clouds floated in the sky.”

Ping didn’t understand the significance of green clouds. Neither did the junior minister.

“After Emperor Nan had reigned for nineteen years, there were floods. Wild dragons were seen outside the city.

Ping wanted to know what happened to the pearl and the wild dragons, but there was no more detail. Each entry was very short.

“In the first year of the reign of Emperor Gao, the dragons flourished and were happy.”

“In the spring of Emperor Zhen Ding’s fifth year, the dragons fought in the pool of Wei.”

The entries stopped when Liu Che’s grandfather took the throne. The junior minister fingered the frayed ends of the string binding the strips together.

“The last strip is missing. It must have fallen off over the years.”

“Does it say anything about how Dragonkeepers were chosen?” Ping asked.

The minister scanned through another book.

“It says that Dragonkeepers are always drawn from the same families—the Huan or the Yu.”

“I wonder how Master Lan’s father came to be Dragonkeeper?”

The minister read further. “According to this, his was just a temporary position as feeder of the dragons until a new Dragonkeeper was appointed.”

“Was there a new appointment?”

“No. That’s the last entry.”

“Does it say where the dragon-keeping families lived?”

“The Dragonkeeper before Lao Lan was Yu Cheng Gong. It says he came from the village of Lu-lin, near the
city of Mang. The Huans have not been Dragonkeepers for many generations. The last Huan keeper lived east of the mountains and west of the River Hong in the village of Xiu-xin.”

The minister looked up from the book.

“Your name should be added to the list. What is your family name?”

“I don’t know,” said Ping.

“It must be either Yu or Huan.”

Danzi had told her that Dragonkeepers had only ever come from the same two families, but it had never occurred to her that she must belong to one of them. Was the last Yu on the list one of her ancestors? The thought echoed in her mind. It was some time before she could concentrate on what the minister was saying again.

Ping didn’t learn much from the bamboo books. She had hoped they would fill in all the gaps in her dragon knowledge. Instead they had only left her with more questions. There were no remedies for sick dragons. In the end she remembered that Danzi had found a drink of arsenic very beneficial to his health. She went to the imperial herbalist and asked if he had any. He gave her three small steel-grey crystals. She dissolved them in water, taking great care not to get any of the mixture on her hands. Arsenic was poisonous to humans, but Kai slurped up the draft with pleasure.

As she sat in the last of the afternoon sun that
streamed through the latticed windows of the Dragon Quarters, Ping thought that she probably had all the knowledge she needed to keep Kai happy and healthy. Perhaps her head actually contained more information about dragons than any book in the Empire.

Reading the bamboo books had left her with only two questions that she wanted to know the answer to. Was her name Yu or Huan? And where was her family now?

A week after the fall of the tower, Ping found herself standing in the largest and most lavishly decorated chamber she had ever seen. The Emperor had sent for her, but the imperial guard didn’t take her to the Chamber of Spreading Clouds. Instead, he lead her to the Emperor’s quarters. It was the first time she had been in Liu Che’s private chambers. One wall was entirely made up of latticework shutters. The sunlight from outside shone through them, making a bright pattern of lotus flowers on the bamboo matting.
Through an open door, Ping could see out onto a wide balcony where Liu Che was reclining on a couch. Dong Fang Suo was speaking to him, twisting his ribbons of office anxiously.

“But I think it is unwise to send another boat to search for the Isle of the Blest,” the Imperial Magician said. “The wreckage of the first boat was washed ashore last week. Good men died.”

“Build a bigger boat,” the Emperor said. “I have also heard about the fungus of everlasting life that can be found in the mountains beyond the western border of the Empire. Arrange an expedition, Dong.”

The Imperial Magician looked unhappy, but raised no objections. “Whatever Your Imperial Majesty commands.”

The Emperor noticed Ping standing in the doorway.

“How is Kai?” he called out cheerfully. “I haven’t seen him out in the gardens.”

Ping bowed to the Emperor.

“He is fully recovered, Your Imperial Majesty,” she replied. “I just wanted to keep an eye on him indoors for a day or two. He can go out again tomorrow.”

“I’m very pleased to hear that,” Liu Che said. “Come out onto the balcony so that I don’t have to shout.”

The balcony was as wide and long as three houses put together. It jutted out from the building and seemed to hang in the air high above the gardens. Ping didn’t want to go out onto the balcony. It wasn’t the height that
bothered her. She had spent much of her life on top of mountains. It was the flimsy structure that concerned her. She was worried it would collapse and send her plunging down the hillside. Liu Che laughed at her reluctance.

“It’s perfectly safe,” he said getting up and walking over to the scarlet-painted balustrade, which to Ping’s eyes appeared to be made of nothing more than thin sticks arranged in a geometric pattern.

“The balcony is held up by strong beams resting on posts made of tree trunks that I couldn’t reach around, Ping,” the Emperor said. “It would support a team of oxen.”

Ping felt a sudden pain in her stomach but it wasn’t because of her fear of the balcony.

“The necromancer,” she whispered. “I can feel him. He’s somewhere near.”

“I know,” the Emperor said with a smile.

Ping stared at the Emperor.

“The imperial guards have captured him,” he said.

Ping didn’t speak.

“That’s why I summoned you,” Liu Che said. “I thought you’d be overjoyed.”

“I am pleased, very pleased,” Ping stammered. “I’m just surprised he was caught so easily.”

“Why? You don’t have a very high opinion of my guards if you think they can’t capture one man who pretends to have magical powers.”

Ping’s experience with the necromancer had
convinced her that his powers were very real.

“Where is he? Can I see him?”

“Yes,” Liu Che said. “But only if you’re quick. He is about to be transported to Chang’an.”

The Emperor laughed at her confusion and pointed down over the balustrade. Ping stepped onto the balcony as if it were made of eggshell. She grabbed hold of the scarlet rail and looked down. A waterfall tinkled cheerfully beside the balcony on its way to a pool far below. But Ping wasn’t admiring the view. In the courtyard next to the pool, a man wearing a cloak was being led from the stables in chains. As the guards pushed him roughly into a wagon (the same one that had brought her to Ming Yang Lodge), he turned and looked up. Ping saw the necromancer’s tattooed face. She clutched her stomach. The guards tied the leather cover over him. The captain shouted an order and the driver flicked the ox with his whip. The wagon rattled off escorted by ten imperial guards. The sight didn’t give Ping as much pleasure as she thought it would.

When Ping entered the Hall of Cool Fragrance for the midday meal, the Emperor was looking very pleased.

“The seers have decided what I must do to appease Heaven,” he said excitedly, as she bowed and took her place. “I am to hold a special festival. Shamans will build a mound made of earth of five colours. Five fires of thornwood branches and fern stalks will be erected
on top. Water buffalo, goats and pigs will be sacrificed. I will kneel before Heaven on a mat made from holy plants. White pheasants will be released. Afterwards there will be a feast with music and songs of praise. I will invite the land owners and imperial administrators from nearby. All the villages within a day’s march will receive meat and wine so that my subjects can take part in the festivities and show Heaven that they are happy with my reign. Isn’t that right, Dong?”

He turned to the Imperial Magician, who was sitting on his other side.

“That is correct, Your Imperial Majesty,” Dong Fang Suo replied. “Incense will carry our prayers to Heaven. Kai must take part too, so that Heaven can see how happy the dragon is.”

Liu Che nodded enthusiastically. “My dragon is well, the necromancer is captured, and after the festival all will be put to rights!”

“I’m sure that Heaven will realise that you are a good and wise ruler,” Ping replied.

The servants brought out the meal. Usually after she had experienced a foreboding, Ping had no appetite. The Emperor’s happy mood was infectious, though, and the pleasant smells of boiled quail and fried fish with sour sauce made her mouth water. She allowed the serving maid to fill her bowl. Since he was in a good mood, Ping felt bold enough to tell Liu Che about a plan of her own.

“We have been reading about the old dragon-keeping families,” she told him.

The Emperor’s servant brought him a single crane’s egg. He turned it over with his chopsticks.

“I would like to find out if they still exist,” Ping continued. “If something happens to me, you will need to know where to find another Dragonkeeper.”

“I am sure Heaven will grant you a long life,” the Emperor replied.

“Even if that’s the case, you will still need to find a new Dragonkeeper one day. Kai will need many Dragonkeepers throughout his long life. I think we should search for the old dragon-keeping families and find out if they have died out. If I could just go to the villages of Lu-lin and Xiu-xin …

The Emperor didn’t seem at all interested in the subject. His egg lay untouched in his bowl.

“Ping, you shouldn’t bother His Imperial Majesty while he is eating,” Dong Fang Suo said.

The servants brought out the next course. Ripe persimmons and tea scented with the flowers of the sweet olive tree were placed in front of Ping. They gave the Emperor three slices of peach and a cup of cloudy water.

“It is important that you digest your food carefully, Your Imperial Majesty,” Dong Fang Suo continued. “Only then will you get the full benefit of the diet the Longevity Council has devised for you.”

Liu Che ate one peach slice. Ping could see that his good mood had evaporated. The Longevity Council’s diet was so meagre, it was no wonder the Emperor was irritable. She would have to be patient and wait until the Emperor was in a more receptive mood.

A minister approached the Emperor. He was thin, straight and had a serious little mouth. His gown fell in neat folds as if each one had been carefully arranged. Even though it was late in the day, not a wisp of hair had escaped from under his ministerial cap. He knelt down in one graceful movement and bowed before the Emperor.

“I have received another letter from the Grand Counsellor, Your Imperial Majesty,” the minister said. “He urgently requests that you return to Chang’an immediately to attend to the government of the Empire.”

The Emperor waved the minister away irritably. “The Empire can wait until after my festival.”

The minister didn’t move. Liu Che turned towards Ping. There was a sly glint in his eye.

“Perhaps you are right, Ping,” he said in a voice loud enough for the minister to hear. “It is wise to prepare for all possibilities. Eventually, the day will come when I will need a new Dragonkeeper.”

Ping was delighted.

He looked at the minister who was still kneeling in front of him. “Minister Ji, you can conduct the search. Ping wants to find out if the old dragon-keeping families
still exist. Where did you say they are to be found?”

Ping’s smile faded. “Lu-lin and Xiu-xin, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“But I don’t need to go myself to achieve that, Your Imperial Majesty,” Minister Ji said. “I can write to the sub-prefect. A messenger can deliver a letter in less time than it will take for me to travel there in a carriage.”

“I think a personal visit would be more appropriate, Minister Ji.”

Liu Che smiled like someone who had outwitted his opponent in a game of checkers.

Ping tried to look pleased.

After the meal, Ping went for a walk. It was her favourite time for walking in the gardens. Everyone else rested after the midday meal, so she had the gardens to herself. Kai didn’t feel like an afternoon nap either. He scampered back and forth along the path. For once he wasn’t misbehaving. It was good to see him back in full health. The Dragon Attendant yawned as he trailed after Kai. He wouldn’t rest unless Kai did.