The Best of Penny Dread Tales (25 page)

“You were taught to fight with a staff because of predatory animals and predatory men. Is this correct?”

“Yes, my Lady. Wolves and wild dogs would attack our animals when we led them out to pasture. And the men would sometimes assault us if they caught us alone in the open.”

“I’m going to act as if I were one of those men. I want you to defend yourself when I try to throw you to the ground. Don’t be afraid to strike me. In fact, I want you to hurt me as much as you are able. If I don’t think you can defend yourself, I will return you to your master, Du Mu, and you will die a painful, shameful death. Staff up! Prepare to defend yourself.”

The girl lifted the staff to the
en guarde
position, instincts kicking in. Jing knew she could not afford to make it easy on her. She came at the young girl as swiftly and deceptively as she knew. Soong swung her staff, missed, whirled, ducked, and swung once again, striking Jing on the knee. When Jing recoiled, Soong brought the staff hard on her ribs, knocking her to the ground.

She knelt, horrified.

“Please, Princess Jing, don’t be angry with me!” she pleaded.

It took a moment for Jing to get her breath. She made gestures to show all was well. When she could speak, she said, “You defend yourself well. I’m pleased. Come with me. We’ll be leaving the compound shortly.”

They walked back inside Du Mu’s massive home. Soong carried her staff.

***

“The figure of the Weather God sits above the shore,” Du Mu said to Cheng. “People think it is merely an icon. It is, in fact, the entrance to a device that controls the underground water of this region and can bring a tsunami against the foreign fleet headed our way.”

“How is this possible?”

“I would say by magic, but it is in fact by knowledge. He has somehow tapped into the heat deep in the earth and can control it. He uses this energy to draw up seawater and fill the pool around the Weather God. There are also reservoirs carved into the hills that rise up behind the structure. He can release the waters all at once. The force of its fall creates a massive wave.”

“Any weapon must be proven for its temper and trueness. Has this device been demonstrated to work?”

“The Japanese sent ships here five years ago with the intention of seizing this harbor and setting up one of their ‘spheres of influence,’ as they call them. The Weather God did not make a tsunami at that time but created waves so high the Japanese gunboats could not maneuver and could not fire their guns. They abandoned the attack. This was in the early stages of construction, when the device did not operate at full capacity. Now construction is complete. The device has been tested. We used old wooden ships, and the wave this machine produced rolled over them and sent them under. Shao Jiazhen, though, is the only one who knows how to operate it. That is why he must be freed.

Chen ran his gaze over the complex, huge and impressive. The figure of the Weather God—massive and made of iron covered with ceramic—rose out of a pool. Probably fifty feet tall, its benevolent face reminded Chen of the god of Good Fortune. The statue stood in the middle of a long wall of red brick that went all the way down to the narrow strand of beach that met the sea below it. Chen thought it might be a low-budget replica of the Forbidden City. A complex of temple-like buildings and a citadel with cannon ports stood at one end of the wall that enclosed the reservoir.

“Are any of the foreigners aware of the structure’s function?”

“I don’t think so. But if they get near enough to shell the complex, I think they might destroy the machinery. They probably see the buildings and the wall as a good place to mount guns.”

Chen’s mind quickly reviewed the situation into which he would soon plunge. European nations, taking advantage of political disarray and bolstered by their superior technology, had made incursions into China. They set up their “spheres of influence,” mostly ports where they could export goods and bring opium into the country. The people resented their intrusion and their efforts to make money through the opium trade. Eventually a rebellion broke out. The “harmonious fists” began attacking and harassing foreign elements. The attacks had escalated into full-scale revolt. In Beijing, the Boxers (as the foreigners called them) had taken control of the city. They had driven the European and Japanese contingents—diplomatic staff, missionaries, international workers—into the embassy compound. Strong contingents of troops, heavily armed, protected them, but they were running low on food and ammunition. The relief convoy from their various supporting countries had drawn near. It carried additional troops, weapons and supplies. This is what Du Mu and his confederates wanted to stop so the rebellion could achieve victory.

“We’ll see,” Chen said, breaking out of his revelry. “The best thing would be for us to leave now. We don’t have much time.”

“That girl should die. I should make an example of her.”

“You’ll have to take this up with Princess Jing. We’ll return to your estate and depart from there. I think all our equipage is in order.”

They rode the two miles back to Du Mu’s estate where Jing and Soong waited, both dressed in fighting clothes. Du Mu frowned when he saw Soong. She blanched, fearing her former master might still punish her with torture or that perhaps Jing would change her mind and deliver her over to him. Jing put her hand on Soong’s shoulder.

“This young lady will be a valuable ally to us,” she said. “She will aid us greatly when we infiltrate the complex.”

“What is the position of the European flotilla? Is there word on it?”

“They will fuel in Japan and, after that, make a course directly for us. They will arrive within the week.”

“Then we need to begin our journey.”

They slung on their packs and departed, beginning their trek to the Forbidden City. It was too dangerous to ride horses, so they went overland.

***

They went at a quick pace. Soong puffed and panted but kept up. When they stopped to rest, she took off her pack and lay down, often falling asleep. When roused, she got up and marched. They walked until darkness, stopped and made camp. Jing put rice on to boil. Soong fell asleep again. Jing woke her.

“Eat,” she said. “We will rise at dawn and see how much distance we can cover tomorrow. We don’t know what we’re up against, and once we do free Shao, it will take a couple of days to get him back. It is vital we move and as quickly as possible. Eat and then you can sleep.”

Soong ate rice and vegetable fritters, rolled in her blanket, and was oblivious until the first grey light of morning graced the sky. They started out early and made good progress, so that by the end of their second day, they arrived at the villages and farms that serviced the capital city. They ate at an inn and took rooms. Jing would sleep with Chou, but before she left Soong in her tiny cell, she knelt by her bed.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “you and I will infiltrate the compound. Something you must know, Soong, though perhaps from your experience as a servant in Du Mu’s household you know this already.”

She paused. Soong looked at her with big, expectant eyes.

“Your womanhood,” she continued, “is like a golden sword. It is a beautiful treasure, but there are times when you must use it to protect your life or the lives of others. I began as a warrior in the tradition of Mulan. I fought many years as a chaste maiden, but I soon realized this was both impractical and distracting to my subordinate officers. I went home for the winter, let an old boyfriend take my virginity and … well, shall we say,
break me in
a little. When I returned to the field in the spring, I began to have liaisons with my officers. It worked marvelously. It made them more loyal and more skillful at fighting. They competed to demonstrate their valor, loyalty, and courage. I did not let any outstanding display of any of these things go unrewarded. It has been so to this day. You told me you were required at Du Mu’s estate to service women—men, too?”

“Yes, my Lady. More men than women.”

Jing smiled and patted her shoulder gently.

“The things we will do, we will do together. I will never ask you to do anything I will not do myself. Sleep. I will tell you what our plan is when we arrive at the embassy complex. But for now”—she took out a phial—“drink this in the morning. It will prevent you from getting pregnant.” Then she held up a glass container. “Also, anoint your secret parts with cream in this jar. It will also act as a contraceptive and as a lubricant.”

Soong nodded. Jing left and went to sleep with Chen Hao. In the morning they ate and made their way into Beijing.

***

The city looked like a city under siege. Gutted buildings rose. Gangs of armed soldiers patrolled the streets. They passed a burned out church. Dozens of bodies lay on the ground around it. A white man in a Christian priest’s clothing and two Chinese men had been hanged from the lintel above the entry.

The soldiers gave them looks, but they recognized Chen as a man who bore arms and did not challenge him. The three of them came near the compound. Chen talked with the commander of the Boxer force guarding the east side. After a parley, he nodded to Jing and went his way. She and Soong changed into the coarse, ragged dresses they had purchased in a tiny village early that morning, took off their shoes, rubbed dirt on their hands and faces, and crossed the hundred yards that separated the Chinese and American troops.

As they drew close to the compound, Jing noted the damage done by shelling. Some of the buildings smoldered. As they approached the trenches, sentries came into view. The blue uniforms told her the men defending the parapets were Americans. As they came closer, the soldiers—there were six of them—leveled their rifles. One of them stood up and held a pistol.

“Stop where you are,” he said in Chinese.

Soong halted, but Jing walked a few steps closer. His hand tightened on the revolver.

“Please, sir,” Jing said, “hear as I speak.” She deliberately made her English, which she spoke fluently, sound clumsy and rudimentary. “Please hear our words.”

The soldier relaxed just slightly.

“What is it you want?” he asked in English.

“We are hungry.”

“So are we,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. The other men lowered their rifles, smiled and chuckled.

“We will pay for food,” Jing said, and then she lifted the hem of her dress, pulling it up past her waist. Soong blinked in astonishment and then followed suit.

The soldier stared a moment and then grinned.

“Well now. You have a kind of currency that is legal tender anywhere.” His men laughed. “I think we can give you some food. Come on.”

They dropped their garments and climbed the soft mound of earth in front of the trench. The American soldier offered Jing and then Soong his hand.

“We only ask that you feed us first. We are very hungry.”

He turned to a black soldier. “Hobbs, go get a couple bowls of rice—and whatever else they have.”

The man scurried off. The American looked Jing full in the face.

“Where did you learn to speak English?”

“Missionary school, my sir.”

Her father had insisted she learn the English tongue so she could negotiate for him. Since both the British and the Americans spoke that language, it seemed the most sensible one to learn. She had studied with missionaries and private tutors.

“I don’t think the missionaries would like what you’re doing now.”

She did not respond. Hobbes came back with two tin plates heaped with rice and some sort of bread. The man who seemed in charge nodded, and he handed them to Soong and Jing.

“Eat while we get things ready. My name is Sergeant Kelly.” He walked off and began talking with a group of men who listened to him with eager surprise.

“Eat like you are starving,” Jing said. Soong looked at her and began to wolf her food. Kelly came back over.

“Sister,” Jing said in Chinese. “Do not eat so fast. Eat slowly so it will do your stomach good.”

Soong looked at her, not comprehending, and then realized it was part of the ploy. She took smaller portions and chewed more slowly.

“She’s your sister?” Kelly asked in English. As Jing had suspected, he knew Chinese fairly well.

“Yes, my sir. We have not eaten in many days.”

He looked at Soong. “How old is she?”

“Sixteen year.”

He pondered and then went off. They finished their food and stood. Jing went over to Kelly.

“We are ready, my sir. We will pay for the food you gave us.”

He led them to a tent and told them to stand by the door, showing familiarity with local practices and how prostitutes advertised in China. After a while a group of five men appeared.

“Only five?” he asked.

“A lot of the men got religion hanging around the missionaries,” Hobbes smiled. “I put the word out, but these are the only ones who showed up.”

“Well, let’s get going then.”

Hobbes was the first. He picked Soong and took her into the tent. The next three wanted Jing. Number five took Soong. Kelly, who was last, picked Jing. When they had finished, the two of them came outside the tent. Kelly gave them a loaf of yeast bread wrapped in cloth.

“Here. This is for you,” he said. “If you want to come back in a couple of days, we’ll have more food for you. But be careful. The Boxers will kill you if they find out you’ve been here.”

Soong nodded. An awkward moment passed and then Kelly said, in Chinese, “Go home.”

He turned. Jing glanced at Soong and motioned, pointing for Soong to get behind her and stay close. Jing followed Kelly, making no noise as she stepped behind him, less than a foot away, shadowing him as he crossed the common and went into one of the buildings. He neither heard, saw, nor otherwise sensed the presence of the two women. The other soldiers, vigilant at their posts, did not look back. When Kelly went into a door, Jing broke off from him, Soong following her, and hurried around the side of the building he had entered. She and Soong slid into a shadowy alley between two large structures.

Soong looked at Jing with wide eyes. “How did you do that, my Lady? Was it magic?”