The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure (59 page)

He had not been allowed to finish. The mention of the land dispute was a signal for the two cousins on either side of the table to abuse each other again, each accusatory remark of one matched by a more deliberate insult from the other. At one point it looked as if they would come to blows. Pastor John banged on the table, and attempted to restore order by calling on both sides to honour the memory of Father Adolphus.

This was a mistake. Headman Yang turned away from his cousin to face Pastor John. He scowled at him, then turned his sneering face full on Sister Elena, and deliberately spat on the table in front of her. ‘That is what I think of your Father Adolphus,' he said. ‘He was nothing more than an evil magician who used his arts to deceive honest people and bring advantage to you Devil-worshipping Christians. Now you are trying to bring his succubus, his witch, to do the same.'

The Christians on Elena's side of the table rose in angry protest. Miller Zhang reached for the knife in his belt, but Pastor John banged the table, crying, ‘Order! Order!'

In the stillness that followed, Pastor John attempted to remonstrate: ‘How can you be so insulting, Headman? And so ungrateful for all the good things our friends have done for us over the years? I beg you, please apologise to our Elder Sister for your thoughtless remark. We in the village may have our differences, but Elder Sister is guiltless of anything but kindness to us.'

Headman Yang threw back his head and laughed. ‘Guiltless? Tell that to my cow, which this morning came down with a sickness—right after
her
arrival in our village. Or your mule, Lao Dai, the one that died when the other foreign witch came here two months ago. Guiltless? Our mothers live in fear for their children's lives. What happens if the witch goes after one of them?'

‘My grandson had a fever this morning,' said Zheng Fujia nervously. ‘His little head was burning when my daughter brought him back from the river—after she met this one,' he said, pointing at Elena, ‘by the washing pool.'

Elena, her mouth open in shock, tried to formulate words to protest. Simultaneously she became aware of a noise all around her. She had been so concentrating on the debate at the table that she had hardly been aware of the crowd of bystanders, Christians and non-Christians, in their separate groups, who had been watching the proceedings. Now the air was filled with angry shouts. An old woman thrust a bony finger at her and screeched, ‘My little granddaughter cries for vengeance. You poisoned her, gave her medicines, and two weeks later she died!' and another man was shouting something about a plague of ringworm in his sheep.

‘It's not true. It's not true,' she whispered, turning in a pathetic desire to justify herself to Pastor John. ‘That child had a brain disease. I only gave her some medicines to stop the pain. I never pretended I could save her. How can they be saying such things?'

But Pastor John was on his feet, his usually placid features quivering with rage, his shoulders and fists shaking. ‘How dare you?' he was shouting, in a remarkably loud and carrying voice. ‘How dare you mouth this evil, superstitious rubbish at us? You accuse us of devil worship when your temples are full of plaster idols! Why do you think we become Christians, if not to get away from the foolish, wicked ignorance in which you are all mired? Don't you realise that the Lord Jesus offers us a way out of our slavery into a better world?'

Headman Yang was also on his feet, his face radiated by a triumphant grin. ‘Hear him!' he shouted, in an even louder voice. ‘He admits, did you hear? He admits he wants to trample on our traditions. You heard him mock our gods. He wants to make a better world, he says, and calls us slaves! What's that but an attack on the Emperor himself? Villagers, are we to allow this treason in our midst? Treason and black magic, threatening our very homes!'

‘I'll give you treason, you bag of goat's piss,' screamed Miller Zhang, and leaped across the table to strike the headman. The two embraced in a biting, hair-pulling, knee-jerking, scratching struggle. On all sides Elena saw other Christians and non-Christians standing off against each other, pushing, shouting, some exchanging blows. The old men on the benches looked at each other in confusion. Pastor John seemed stunned. Elena felt she had to do something, and suddenly found herself propelling herself forward so that she was standing on the table. More in frustration at her impotence to stop this terrible brawl than because of any conceived plan, she threw back her head and issued a long, high-pitched, ululating shriek. It pierced the noise around her like a whistle at a football match, bringing both game and grandstand to a halting silence. Faces turned to stare at the foreign woman with her raised arms and her thrown-back head, who stood transfigured above them. ‘Stop! Stop! Stop! For the love of the Blessed Virgin, stop,' she was still screaming, but the words were strange to her audience because in her confusion she had used Italian. After a moment she, too, paused, aware of the growing stillness around her. She blushed, a little embarrassed, turning towards Pastor John as if asking him what she should do next.

Then a voice from the non-Christian side of the village shouted, ‘She's made a spell. In her devil's language. Witch!
Wupo!
Witch!'

And the chant was taken up:
‘Wupo! Wupo! Wupo! Wupo! Wupo!'

*   *   *

It seemed as convenient a moment as any, and Ren Ren gave the order for Monkey to fire his musket into the air above the commotion. The echo of the explosion reverberated round the square, hushing the startled villagers, who gazed in confusion at the armed, uniformed figures who had positioned themselves silently round the perimeter and at strategic positions blocking all exits. None of them had seen Boxers before but they knew immediately from the yellow turbans, the orange sashes and their studied martial-arts stances who they were.

Ren Ren, followed by Monkey and his other lieutenants, strolled into the silence, past the tableau of frozen, frightened figures, into the centre of the square. ‘Friends,' he said. He spoke conversationally but his drawl sounded brittle in the tension. ‘Friends. It seems that we've arrived at a perfect time. Have you caught a witch? That's very clever of you. It's a foreign one, I see. A fat, ugly bitch, isn't she?'

Sister Elena, still on the table, felt her knees shaking, but she knew she had to control her fear. ‘I am Sister Elena, from the Christian mission in Shishan. I don't know who you are, but there will be trouble if you harm anyone here.'

Ren Ren smiled. ‘Who's the headman?' he asked quietly.

Headman Yang tumbled forward and prostrated himself at the young man's feet. ‘Master, we meant no harm,' he mumbled into the dust.

‘If you've been identifying witches that's no harm done at all,' said Ren Ren. ‘In fact, it's highly commendable. Helpful, even. But I am confused. We've been hearing terrible stories, haven't we, Monkey? That this whole village has been overrun by Christians. It makes me wonder why a good headman, who's presumably loyal to the empire of the Ch'ing, allows his village to be overrun by Christians and traitors to the Emperor. Are you a Christian yourself?'

Through the convulsion of terrified sobs and protestations at his feet that followed, Ren Ren established that, no, Headman Yang was not a Christian. On the contrary, he hated and feared Christians. They had been casting their spells on innocent villagers, and stealing their land. He himself had suffered, he and his whole family, from their magic, only there were so many of them, so many of them—forgive him, Master—there was little he could do …

‘You can get off your feet and stop snivelling,' said Ren Ren. ‘That'd be a start. Then I suppose you'd better point out to me which ones are the Christians, and I'll show you how to deal with the turtle eggs.' He turned to give orders to his men, but was stopped short by the tall figure of Pastor John, who with great dignity had risen to his feet and blocked his way. Ren Ren looked up at the calm, weathered face and grizzled grey hair. ‘Who are you?' he asked.

‘With respect I would like to ask you the same question,' said Pastor John, ‘and by what authority you come to intimidate our community. I am a schoolteacher and my name is Wang. I also have the honour and privilege to be the pastor of the Catholic church in this village. We are not witches, sir, and we are loyal subjects of the Emperor. I would like to see your commission, please. With respect, you and your … soldiers do not on the face of it appear to represent any regular forces of the Ch'ing empire.'

For a moment Ren Ren and his lieutenants looked at Pastor John with amazement. Then Monkey began to giggle. ‘Shall I show him our commission, Ren Ren?' he asked, pulling a great sabre from his belt.

‘Not yet,' said Ren Ren, smiling. ‘The man's made a point. We've been lacking in courtesy, it seems. We ought to have introduced ourselves. With respect, Mr Christian Schoolteacher,' he addressed Pastor John sarcastically, ‘I'll be showing you my authority in a moment. Don't go away.'

In three fast strides he had reached the table. Sister Elena stepped back as he climbed upon it but Ren Ren grabbed her wrist. ‘Stay,' he whispered. ‘There's a good little bitch.' He released her and turned to survey the crowd. All eyes were focused anxiously upon him. Smiling broadly, he held up a hand as if to acknowledge applause. His teeth flashed like a showman's at a fair. ‘There's a gentleman over there who's just asked me who we are.' He pitched his voice loud. ‘He wants to know by what authority we come here. But I think most of you good people know who we are, and who's sent us to Bashu. Are there any of you still guessing?'

His question met a predictable silence. ‘Xiao Tan,' he called to one of the Boxer guards. ‘Come over here and show them what you can do.'

The young man he had appointed ran forward to the centre of the square, pulling off his tunic as he did so. He bowed to Ren Ren, then began to move his body in an elegant demonstration of
kung fu,
kicking, jumping, punching. Swirling faster and faster, he leaped his own height off the ground, his legs scissoring as he did so. He landed smoothly on one leg while his fists were still moving in a pink blur. His sharp intakes of breath mixed rhythmically with the hiss and swish of his limbs in an almost musical sound that matched the beauty of his movements. Suddenly he froze, balancing at an impossible angle. Those close to him could see that his eyeballs had rolled upwards under his eyelids. He appeared to be possessed or in a trance. When he moved again it was with an odd, inhuman gait, sloping or galloping across the ground. He paused, standing on one leg. He cocked his ear in one hand, as if he was listening to a faraway sound; his mouth and nostrils twitched as he sniffed the air, his eyes blinked and rolled; his movements were alert, simian. There was a gasp from the crowd, for the character standing live in front of them had been familiar to most of them since childhood.

‘You recognise him?' Ren Ren called. ‘Of course you do. That's Sun Wukong, the Monkey God himself, and he's taken the boy's form. Monkey's just one of the gods we can call down from Heaven to help us. Look at him. Look carefully. Watch how he moves. See for yourselves what it's like to be possessed by one of the gods! That's the power we have. Can you imagine? It gives us invulnerability and supernatural strength in our martial arts. It makes us Boxers of Heaven. Heavenly Boxers. That's who we are. We are the Tiger Company of the Shishan Chapter of the Battalions of Righteous Harmony. We're a loyal militia, sworn to serve the Emperor, and we have Heaven behind us.'

Ren Ren pretended disappointment when there were no cheers. ‘You should believe it, you know,' he said. ‘The gods
are
coming down to earth to make an invincible army here below. We are their vanguard. But you should be asking yourselves why they are coming, good people of Bashu. Why you are being so honoured. Because our country's in danger, that's why. The Middle Kingdom and the throne of our Emperor are being threatened by the magic of foreigners—by the sorcery of Christians.

‘You've got Christians here among you, haven't you? People like yourselves, aren't they? Except for their funny rituals, perhaps, and their special attitude towards paying bills, you might think they're harmless on the whole. They even talk nice, don't they? About brotherly love, and coming to Heaven through Jesus. Don't be deceived. That's what's so diabolical and dangerous about them. They look like us, but if you look inside their hearts you'll find stinking malevolence and corruption. In every one of their black hearts plots are fermenting. Oh, yes, their faces may give you sweet smiles, but inside there's only one thing they want: to destroy you, and your families, and your village, and bring down the empire itself.'

He watched with satisfaction the effect of his words, as people in the crowd began to distance themselves from their neighbours.

‘We have to be constantly on our guard,' he continued. ‘The gods are with us but our enemy's magic is also strong. Sometimes the evil is so strong that even the gods find it difficult to prevail against it. Sometimes the rank evil of the Christian is so foul that it can pollute the purity of the vessel holding the god within us. Our gods can withstand the bullets of our enemies, but not always can they withstand the black magic of the Christian wizards. That is why we have come to exterminate the witches and demons who call themselves Christians wherever we find them.

‘And that's why we're here in Bashu. We wanted to see what sort of danger you were in—and what do we find? You've already identified a witch.' He grasped Sister Elena's hand and pulled her to his side. ‘This one here, I take it? Well, she's ugly enough, that's for sure. And she smells rancid, and she looks foul, but is she really an evil witch? Shall we prove it one way or another? How about a little demonstration, good people of Bashu, to see just what danger you are really in?'