Taming Poison Dragons (61 page)

‘We cannot stay here!’ I say. ‘We are less than three
li
from Chunming and dawn is coming.’

Indeed, the first rays are brightening the eastern horizon, rising above the watchtowers and walls of Chunming. The West Gate is illuminated by lanterns and even my poor eyesight detects movement. When the Excellent Yuan Chu-Sou finds out we have escaped, his rage will ensure a swift pursuit. Ensign Tzi-Lu finishes fastening his bandage.

‘You are right,’ he says.

I await a bold stratagem. He looks around, and shivers.

‘We must find a place to hide before dawn comes,’ I suggest, helpfully. ‘No doubt you have somewhere in mind?’

He nods, then gestures vaguely into the darkness.

‘Have you really no plan?’ I ask. ‘What did you expect to happen once we got beyond the ramparts?’

He peers at His Excellency P’ei Ti to check whether he is listening. But my old friend seems stupefied. This is a cause for grave concern. If he cannot walk we are lost.

‘I did not expect any of this,’ admits the Ensign.

Now I must be the leader. It is a strange thing, this shuffling of responsibilities.

‘How far off is dawn?’ I ask.

‘An hour at most.’

In the midst of exhaustion I struggle to remember the land to the west of Chunming. I have ridden through this district often enough when returning to Wei, but always by the Western Highway. Only a fool would venture that way now.

As if in a dream, I recall encountering the deserters in Mallow Flower Marsh at the start of General An-Shu’s rebellion. They hid there for a reason. Such places are especially hard for horsemen to search.

‘I believe there is a swamp a few
li
from here,’ I say. ‘I glimpsed it often when travelling on the high road back to my home. We should go there, I think. As I recollect, there are many tall reeds to conceal us.’

‘A few
li
?’ asks the gallant Ensign.

We both examine P’ei Ti. He is breathing heavily, his eyes closed. I turn to Golden Bells who is listening to our conversation.

‘Golden Bells,’ I say. ‘Now is the time to double your reward.’

He frowns.

‘Lord Yun Cai, I’ve delivered my part of the bargain.

More than my part. No one said anything about fighting.

I should be paid what I am owed, then I’m free to go.’

I sense the Ensign Tzi-Lu’s hand drifting to his sword.

‘You can only be paid when His Excellency is safe,’ I reason. ‘Besides, you are in too deep to falter now. I promise you this, Golden Bells: act like a man and you’ll never cease to be glad.’

He glances nervously at the ramparts of Chunming. I can tell he is ready to bolt.

‘His Excellency will grant you land as a further reward,’

I suggest. ‘We discussed the matter while in prison.’

I have no right to make such a promise. Yet I have not said how much land. It might amount to a pigsty. He wavers.

‘I am no soldier!’ he protests. ‘I don’t know how I lived through that fight by the gate.’

‘You do not have to be a soldier,’ I say, soothingly. ‘Just a porter.’

He follows my glance to P’ei Ti’s slumped frame.

‘Why, His Excellency is thinner than a cricket!’ I say.

‘And the Ensign Tzi-Lu will take his other arm.’

This is the moment of crisis. If Golden Bells deserts us now we are surely lost. Still he wavers.

‘All right,’ he grumbles. ‘I know you’re true to your word, Lord Yun Cai.’

Soon P’ei Ti sits cradled between Golden Bells and the Ensign. I am consigned to carry the weapons. If I am mistaken about the location of the marsh we might as well return to Chunming.

Casting a fearful glance back towards the city, I notice that a band of men have emerged bearing torches. We advance through stands of bamboo, clumps of mulberry trees, and every footstep leads us further from Chunming towards the mountains.

I awake from foul dreams to the music of reeds. Whenever the breeze lifts, ten thousand stalks murmur and sway.

They form the walls of our womb – or tomb. We sleep back to back, hidden from the prying eyes of all but birds.

P’ei Ti snores. Even Ensign Tzi-Lu and Golden Bells prop each other, utterly spent by the effort of carrying His Excellency. Only I am awake. If General An-Shu’s men came across us now they could take us without the least resistance. I listen. No voices, just wind through the reeds.

A yellow butterfly lands on my arm, slowly opening and closing its wings. I am too spent for further struggle and my eyes close.

A brisk shaking stirs me.

‘Shhhh!’

There are many ways of demanding silence. The Ensign’s tone is masterful. I freeze, but all I hear is the rustling of reeds. And then something else, indistinct yet recognisable: men’s voices, close by. The four of us concealed in the hollow of reeds meet each other’s eyes. How hungry we are, and thirsty! The voices recede. Golden Bells rises unexpectedly as though he means to betray our position. We stare in horror. He peers round the marsh, then bobs back down.

‘Soldiers,’ he whispers. ‘A dozen or so.’

‘Whose army do they belong to?’ I ask.

‘I could not tell.’

P’ei Ti clears his throat. Such is his authority, we all listen. He appears refreshed by his hours of sleep. I detect new strength in his bloodshot eyes.

‘If His Majesty’s army has prevailed, as surely they must, then the remnant of General An-Shu’s army must flee this way.’

We digest his idea.

‘That makes our position more precarious than ever,’ I say.

‘Not if we find His Majesty’s troops,’ says P’ei Ti.

‘How are we to know one from the other?’ I ask.

It is a good question. Not by their virtue, that is for sure. Perhaps by their uniforms, but even then one cannot be certain.

‘The best thing,’ I say. ‘Is to find a refuge. I propose that we travel to my home in Wei Valley.’

No doubt P’ei Ti sees through my motives. He looks at me sharply enough.

‘It is one of the Five Directions,’ he concedes. ‘At least it takes us away from Chunming.’

Golden Bells’ eyes gleam. He has every reason to support such a plan, but of course he is too lowly to be consulted. We turn to Ensign Tzi-Lu. The final decision must lie with him.

‘We have no food,’ he says. ‘No drink. We must leave this marsh soon. Why not return to Lord Yun Cai’s home?

We could easily hide in the hills.’

‘How far is it?’ asks P’ei Ti.

‘A good day’s walk to the foothills even if we travel on the Western Highway,’ I say. ‘We could follow the general course of the road, using fields and woods as cover. Once in the hills we should be able to buy horses.’

No one offers a better plan.

So the day passes. Now we acquire an unexpected leader.

Golden Bells proves wily as a bandit. A true peasant, he reads the land as well as his betters might a scroll and we make good progress, seldom more than a
li
or two from the road, yet distant enough to be unrecognisable to searching eyes.

The Ensign Tzi-Lu regularly surveys the travellers on the highway. They are many. Refugees from Chunming by the look of their wheelbarrows and handcarts.

Occasionally, small bands of hurrying soldiers. We take cover until they pass, then start again. All of us long to question those fleeing. Has General An-Shu joined battle?

Perhaps he has already been defeated, or maybe Heaven has decided to grant him victory and he is revelling in Chunming as we trudge west. Whenever we encounter signs of habitation Golden Bells leads us on a roundabout route to avoid village or house. This cannot continue.

Without food we will faint, though streams and ditches provide plenty to drink.

At last we glimpse a hamlet through a stand of trees.

P’ei Ti calls a halt.

‘I must eat,’ he croaks.

The Ensign bows submissively.

‘Your Excellency, I shall purchase food in the village,’ he says.

I meet Golden Bells’ eye. Tzi-Lu is too obviously a soldier, and a wounded one at that.

‘Send Golden Bells with a little money,’ I say.

The Ensign shakes his head vigorously.

‘Why should he not desert us?’

Despite the gravity of our situation, I am annoyed on the fellow’s behalf.

‘Because he is a
nung
, a peasant, he will not stand out as you do,’ I say. ‘And he has proved his loyalty. I trust him.’

P’ei Ti nods once. So it is settled. We spend an anxious half hour. When Golden Bells returns he carries a basket of wind-dried pork and steamed rice, millet wrapped in lotus leaves, pickled sparrows and cucumber. A feast.

‘I told them my father is desperate for his last meal,’ he boasts as he stuffs himself. ‘And that no one should come near because he has the plague. They are all hiding in their houses anyway.’

I glance up sharply. Such a lie is a bad omen. No one else seems to notice, so I keep my fears to myself.

‘I heard something else,’ he continues. ‘Something bad.

General An-Shu surprised the Emperor’s men as they advanced on Chunming and trounced his army.’

Our jaws cease to move. The breeze ruffles the leaves of the copse.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask.

*

‘So they said.’

Our meal, delicious a moment before, tastes like saw-dust.

Shadows are lengthening as we reach the entrance to the foothills. From here on there is no alternative to the road.

A single ravine cuts through densely wooded slopes and the highway climbs with it. A place of dubious reputation.

Five hundred years ago, a minor prince of the royal family was robbed by bandits in the ravine, taking a fatal wound when he resisted. Ever since it has been known as the Valley of White Sighs. Once through, we will find many places to hide until the storm has exhausted itself around Chunming.

‘Your Excellency, are you well enough to attempt the climb?’ asks the Ensign Tzi-Lu.

P’ei Ti’s flush of strength is fading, yet he nods stiffly.

The entrance to the ravine is dark, ringed by huge sandstone boulders. Thorn bushes fill the gaps between the stones. A brace of cawing pheasants flutter over the deserted high road and I am afflicted by foreboding.

Pheasants represent an Empress. I think of the Lady Ta Chi.

‘Perhaps we should not attempt the ravine,’ I say. ‘It is a dangerous place. Let us find another way round.’

‘There is no other way, Lord Yun Cai,’ protests the Ensign. ‘Besides, if the rumour is true that General An-Shu has prevailed, we must not delay.’

None of us cares to discuss such a possibility. And surely my disquiet is unwarranted. The road appears empty. We should take this chance while General An-Shu and his rebels celebrate their victory in Chunming. Still, I hesitate.

‘Very well,’ I concede.

After emptying the remainder of Golden Bells’ basket we leave the cover of the pine trees. I find myself shuffling ahead, my stick digging into the earth. Golden Bells helps P’ei Ti along. As we reach the entrance to the ravine, Ensign Tzi-Lu holds up a warning finger, then presses his ear to the highway. Swallows flit above our heads.

‘Movement on the road behind us,’ he says. ‘Horses.

Perhaps people fleeing Chunming.’

Suddenly he laughs. A young man’s reckless laugh.

‘What of it! We shall hurry.’

And we do, climbing through a narrow, twisting way, wide enough for a single cart to pass. Granite walls contain us. One may only go forward or back. Creepers and trailing plants cling to the damp walls. A troupe of monkeys shriek above us.

As the road climbs, P’ei Ti’s strength falters. Soon he is being half-carried by the younger men. I must shift for myself, and continue to lead, urging them on. Half way up, I turn at a bend, marked out by a laughing stream. I have paused here before in happier days when returning from paying taxes in Chunming. The plain is clearly visible below, as is the highway, and there my gaze lingers. I stiffen, and call out for sharper eyes than my own. The Ensign Tzi-Lu follows my pointing finger.

‘Your Excellency,’ he says. ‘Horsemen on the road. And a fast-moving carriage. No, more than one. I can see flags.

Your Excellency, these are not peasants fleeing the war.’

He looks round desperately at the walls imprisoning us.

‘Your Excellency, there is no time to lose.’

We shuffle and pant our way up the ravine. Now the clatter of horses’ hooves can be heard clearly, voices calling out to urge on their beasts. But we are weary. P’ei Ti is being carried. My own breath rattles. Three-quarters up it becomes clear we shall not escape the ravine before the carriages catch us. They are close, driven by a haste we cannot match. Here the ravine widens into an egg-shape, bound by high walls. A young man might hope to scale the rocks, creeper by creeper, ledge after ledge. For P’ei Ti and I there is no such hope.

The Ensign’s despair becomes evident in a single gesture. He draws his sword and indicates to Golden Bells he should do the same. The hoof beats are drawing close.

Soon a turn in the road will reveal them.

‘Stand against that rock, Your Excellency,’ he barks, as though to a lowly recruit.

Then he thrusts his sword into the dirt and waits, arms crossed, smiling scornfully.

We do not wait long. Two cavalrymen wearing the uniform of the Penal Battalion trot into view, their horses wild-eyed, foaming from their exertions. They are followed by several carriages.

First comes General An-Shu’s ivory chariot, though he does not occupy it. A slender figure clutches the rail beside the driver, her long hair dishevelled, her face pure and pale as white jade. The Empress-in-waiting.

In the carriages behind I glimpse frightened old men. I would laugh if laughter could bring comfort. When a tree falls, the monkeys scatter. For there squats the Head Eunuch alongside the Excellent Yuan Chu-Sou and several others I recognise from General An-Shu’s banquet.

The cavalry halt at the sight of the Ensign, his sword in the earth. One by one the carriages do likewise, until the ravine is full of sweating horses and men.

A moment of long recognition follows. I cast a nervous glance at P’ei Ti. To my relief, he recollects his dignity.