The Dragon Men

Chapter Six

The emperor was dying. Everyone knew it, but no one would say it. Everyone also knew Su Shun had arranged for the emperor to sleep with a false concubine who carried the blessing of dragons. No one would say that, either. Su Shun was powerful, and there was no real proof. The official prognosis was smallpox, and the imperial physicians could only ensure that Xianfeng rested very comfortably until the end came. The only people allowed to see the emperor were eunuchs who had survived the blessing and were therefore unable to transmit it. They, and Su Shun.

“It’s a disaster,” Liyang said, wringing his soft hands. “A disaster! Cheng defeated the British in Peking, but Su Shun has already taken credit for it, just as you predicted, and now Su Shun intends to use this bit of popularity as an excuse to take the Celestial Throne.”

Cixi tried not to grimace. “We are definitely in trouble. Su Shun is indeed popular at the moment, and the emperor has not publicly declared Zaichun as his heir. So unless Xianfeng put Zaichun’s name in that box, my son’s claim on the throne will be tenuous at best. At least Xianfeng has not publicly declared Su Shun his heir, either. That’s something, at least.”

“It pains me to say it, my lady,” Liyang said, “but the emperor isn’t. . he hasn’t been at his strongest. . ”

“I know. No need.” Cixi sipped from her teacup. It was now a month after the evacuation to the palace at Jehol. Life was comfortable in the Pavilion of a Thousand Silver Stars, and no one would have known that just to the south, sections of Peking lay in shambles and thousands were dead. The British were slaughtered or had fled, and Su Shun, speaking for the emperor, had ordered all borders sealed again. Still, people were working hard in Peking, and, in a few months, life would be normal once more. The streets would be clean, the buildings rebuilt, the parks green and quiet. Except that the emperor was dying. Except that Su Shun intended to steal the throne the moment he was dead. Except that Su Shun intended to go to war as soon as he had the throne.

“The only thing that keeps Su Shun from attacking England right now,” Cixi mused, “is this cure I’ve heard about. What is that woman’s name?”

“Alice, Lady Michaels,” Liyang supplied. He fingered the jar at his belt. “Minor nobility in England, and of no consequence. That is, until she and her courtier, Ennock Gavin, began spreading this cure. Then she became consequential indeed. The irony is, Xianfeng worried that the blessing of dragons might fall on him one day, and he ordered Su Shun to put out a reward for her capture so he-the emperor-could bring her here for himself.”

“I hadn’t heard,” Cixi lied, not wanting to give away the fact that her own spies kept her better informed than Liyang did.

“Oh yes. He offered four hundred pounds of silver. That should have flushed anyone into the open. Michaels and Ennock were spotted three years ago in a leper colony near Tehran, but no one’s heard from them since. Su Shun has left the reward in place, but with one small change.”

This was news to Cixi. “And what is that?”

“He wants Lady Michaels brought to him alive so he can kill her himself.”

“Ah.” Cixi thought about that. “He wants personally to see her dead. Su Shun does not trust someone else for something this important.”

“But why? This I do not understand.”

“He needs to stop her from spreading the cure. The only reason Su Shun hasn’t started a march across Mongolia to Europe in the emperor’s name is that he is worried our troops will be infected with that filthy cure and bring it home. He wants to make absolutely sure this Alice woman is dead before he invades.”

Liyang bowed. “My lady is brilliant. Of course she is correct. Unfortunately for Su Shun, even four hundred pounds of silver have not brought her to him. She is most likely dead. Still, Su Shun isn’t sure, because he has not begun the invasion.”

A fly buzzed about the room, and one of the maids chased it away with her fan. Cixi said only, “Hm.”

“All reports say the cure stalled in Europe,” Liyang said. “It has not touched India or the United States of America. We are not sure about Africa.”

“We certainly don’t need it in China,” Cixi said firmly. “No more Dragon Men? The empire would collapse.”

“Collapse,” said Liyang. “Yes.”

Cixi gazed out a latticed window at a tranquil pool covered with white lotus flowers. Neither of them was talking about the other problem, the main problem, the problem that once Su Shun took the throne, he would ensure no one who could challenge his rule would be left alive. The death of Zaichun, her little boy, was inevitable. Su Shun would trump up charges of treason and have the boy’s mouth and nose stopped up with wet silk. Cixi would be forced to watch while he struggled and kicked and slowly suffocated.

A golden fish leaped out of the lotus pool and vanished with a tiny splash, no doubt fleeing a predator. Once Zaichun was dead, Su Shun would almost certainly order Cixi’s execution as well, followed by the deaths of Liyang and all the eunuchs who served under him, including his boy apprentices. No one with strong allegiances to the rightful emperor could be allowed to live. Cixi had tried to see the emperor on several occasions despite the order that only immune eunuchs were allowed in, but the soldiers on duty outside Xianfeng’s chambers now knew not to let her in, and her polite and kind requests were always met with equally polite and kind refusals. Cixi had tried every trick she knew, and none of them worked. Time was working against them.

“There is one way to save China and the Celestial Throne,” Cixi said quietly.

“My lady?” said Liyang.

“Everyone knows Su Shun’s rule would destroy China,” she said, vocalizing thoughts that had been going through her head for a long time. “Everyone also knows my-the emperor’s-son is the proper heir.”

“My Lord Zaichun is a bright and intelligent boy,” said Liyang with proper deference. “The most intelligent boy the world has ever seen. But even the most intelligent boy cannot truly rule an empire.”

“No. Someone would have to be regent. Make decisions in his name. Someone who knows the empire. Someone who knows what is best for China. Someone who can make good decisions. Someone who isn’t hot-blooded like so many men.”

“Not I, my lady,” said Liyang quickly.

“No. You are a eunuch, but you still think like a man. Your advice would, of course, be instrumental in all decisions, Liyang.” Cixi smoothed the front of her silk tunic and its elaborate embroidery. “No, the time for men to rule China has come to an end, I think.”

“Ah,” said Liyang. “I see, my lady. Yes. I agree. But how will this happen?”

Lung Fang, seated in her corner, ran a finger over the salamander in her ear. “I have calculated that the emperor has twelve minutes left to live.”

“What?” Cixi sprang to her feet. Her kneeling maids scrambled to follow suit.

“Eleven minutes and fifty-five seconds, actually,” said Lung Fang.

Time had run out. Cixi stood for a moment, thinking furiously. Years of training in court etiquette warred with looming necessity. In the end, necessity won. She rushed out of her chambers, out of the Stars Pavilion, and down the front stairs. Zaichun was playing with a set of small mechanical animals on the front lawn under the watchful eye of a dozen eunuchs and his wet nurse. Without pausing, she snatched him up, eliciting gasps from her maids and eunuchs.

“My lady, I’ll carry him!”

“My lady, it is not seemly-”

“My lady, do you want your palanquin?”

She ignored them all and all but ran across the lawns toward the Cool Hall on the Misty Lake. By the time the palanquins was summoned and readied, everything would be over. Zaichun clung to her, wide-eyed and without speaking. He was heavy, but she didn’t set him down. She was panting and her arms were aching to fall off by the time she reached the Hall, but she kept going, trailing a line of frantic maids and eunuchs. She stormed up the step and through the front doors. Servants and courtiers leaped to get out of her way as she stormed down hallways and across courtyards, ignoring the pleas of her servants, knowing if she slowed for even a moment, she would lose her nerve.

She was turning a corner to come down the final corridor to the emperor’s chamber when she slipped. Her feet came out from under her, and she landed hard on the polished floor. Zaichun landed on her, knocking the breath from her lungs. A squawk went up from the flock of maids and eunuchs, who quickly took the crying boy away and helped her to her feet. Thanks to her voluminous clothing, it took considerable time to get to her feet. As she rose, she saw a white feather detach itself from her slipper and float away. She must have slipped on it.

But no time to consider further. She snatched the bawling prince away from the maid and ran down the hallway, every muscle in her body aching now. “Enough, child,” she murmured into his ear. “We are going to see your father, and you do not want him to see you weeping as he departs this world.”

Zaichun got himself under control as Cixi reached the muscled eunuchs at the door. They tensed, having been through Cixi’s attempts at entry before, but before they could speak, Cixi held Zaichun out before her.

“Make way for Prince Aisin-Gioro Zaichun, the Celestial Gift of China!” she boomed. “Make way for the emperor’s son!”

As they had the first time Cixi had come through, the guards looked uncertain and puzzled. Cixi had been forbidden to enter the imperial bedchamber, but the prince and presumptive heir outranked everyone except the emperor himself. The guards were unwilling to lay a hand on him-or on the woman carrying him.

Cixi didn’t hesitate. Holding the boy before her like a living battering ram, she bullied past the waffling guards and kicked the doors open. The eunuchs gathered around Xianfeng’s bed jumped in bewilderment at Cixi’s unannounced entrance. She didn’t bow, she didn’t kneel, she didn’t kowtow. Forgetting these things meant her death, but she was dead anyway and had nothing to lose.

Su Shun stood beside the emperor’s scarlet bed, his brass half face gleaming in the sunlight filtered through the frosted glass of the doors. He was bending over Xianfeng’s wasted form. The blessing of dragons turned a tiny number of people into Dragon Men, it turned a certain number of people into shambling zombies, but most people it simply killed. And emperor or not, Xianfeng turned out to be no better than a commoner in this case. Xianfeng’s breathing came in short gasps as the blessing progressively paralyzed his muscles and fever ravaged his body.

“Father!” Zaichun cried from Cixi’s arms. He squirmed away from her and ran to Xianfeng’s bed. The eunuchs boiled out of the way, and Cixi followed in the path he cleared. “Father!”

“What are you doing here?” Su Shun snapped. “Guards!”

Xianfeng turned fever-bright eyes on Zaichun. “My. . son!”

The guards from outside rushed into the room, swords and pistols drawn. But Xianfeng raised the Jade Hand. “No. . back. .”

The guards obediently backed away. Su Shun looked outraged, but he could say nothing. Cixi gave him a grim smile.

“What of your succession to the throne?” Cixi said urgently. “My lord, who shall rule after you die?”

Xianfeng dropped his hand. The light was fading from his eyes. The water clock in the corner ticked away the time. Thirty seconds left, according to what Lung Fan had said. The room was dead silent. Everyone-guards, eunuchs, Su Shun-was listening with every fiber of his being. Cixi held her breath.

“My. . throne. .,” Xianfeng whispered.

“Your son is here!” Cixi said. Even now she couldn’t bring herself to order the emperor to choose Zaichun, but she slid the boy closer to the emperor’s side. Zaichun looked confused and unhappy, and he reached for his father’s Jade Hand. Everyone held his breath. The water clock dripped away the seconds.

“My. . throne,” said Xianfeng. “Eighteen. Eight. . teen.”

He exhaled once more, then went still.

Several things happened all at once. The Celestial Scepter dropped off Xianfeng’s forearm and fell toward the floor. The water clock chimed. A fast-thinking eunuch dove sideways and caught the Jade Hand before it could touch the ground. Cixi’s maids and the other eunuchs set up a screaming wail and tore at their clothes. Su Shun’s eyes met Cixi’s, and she knew they both had the same thought. The emperor had not declared Zaichun his heir. He had declared no one his heir. And Su Shun was the most powerful man in the room.

Both Cixi and Su Shun moved at the same time. The eunuch was cradling the precious Jade Hand against his chest. Su Shun snatched a pistol from one of the guards and shot the eunuch in the head. The pistol boomed against Cixi’s very bones. She caught up the shocked Zaichun and ran for the door. For a fraction of a second, Su Shun started to aim his pistol at Cixi, then changed his mind and grabbed the Jade Hand from the dead eunuch instead. The pause gave Cixi extra time, and when she passed one of the tables, something made her snatch up the Ebony Chamber, with its gold dragons and phoenix latch. She ran for freedom, clutching the box and towing Zaichun with her. As she left, she had just enough time to see Su Shun raise a guard’s sword high and hear the meaty thunk as Su Shun chopped off his own hand.

“What now, my lady?” Liyang panted. “Oh, what now?”

They were in Cixi’s dressing room at the Pavilion of a Thousand Silver Stars. Terrified maids were rushing about the room, looking busy while accomplishing nothing. Zaichun sat on the floor beside her, trying to be a man and not cry. Cixi idly stroked his hair. She herself felt a strange, icy calm, as if she had gone through terror and come out the other side. She had faced down the emperor and lost, but she was still alive. Once Su Shun recovered from attaching the Heavenly Scepter, he would doubtless come after her, but she should have a few minutes, and she meant to make them count. At the moment, she was examining the Ebony Chamber. The inlaid dragons seemed to move in impossible patterns, and when she looked at them, she realized the dragons were actually created of a design of smaller dragons, and those smaller dragons were made of yet smaller dragons. It hurt her eyes. The phoenix latch had three numbers on it, all on little wheels that could be spun to create numbers between zero and 999. She thought a moment. Xianfeng’s official lucky number was seven, but that was too obvious. This was the eleventh year of Xianfeng’s reign. But no, that would mean resetting the Chamber every year. Wait-when Xianfeng died, he had said eighteen. Cixi also knew that Xianfeng’s official lucky number was seven, but when the emperor was young, a fortune-teller had once said his lucky number was eighteen, and that he secretly preferred that one. Cixi set the latch to 018.

The lock popped open. Heart beating fast, Cixi opened the box. A single piece of paper with her son’s name and the emperor’s seal on it would change everything. She looked inside.

The Chamber was empty.

Despair washed over her. It didn’t seem to matter what she did or how hard she tried. The universe was conspiring against her with tiny events. The emperor had failed to sign a small slip of paper. That feather she had slipped on had delayed her a few crucial seconds. Now the empire had chaos instead of a tidy succession. She and Zaichun were as good as dead.

But, no. Sometimes the universe could not be allowed to win. Sometimes one had to strike back at the universe. Resolve filled Cixi. There was no time to stop, no time to give in. The Chamber was still open. Cixi swept the contents of one of her jewelry cases into it, sending jade and gold and silver tumbling inside. Two pieces-a jade leaf and a gold hairpin-fell to the floor, and these she kept separate. Then she scrambled out of her elaborate concubine’s clothes with the help of her startled maids and, in her underthings, grabbed the arm of a passing chambermaid, the lowest ranking girl in the room.

“Give me your clothes,” she said. The girl stared, openmouthed, until Cixi slapped her across the face. “Now, girl!”

The move galvanized the girl into action. She stripped and handed her much plainer clothes over to Cixi, who got into them. “Liyang, have your apprentice trade clothes with Zaichun. Quickly!”

“What will you do, my lady?” Liyang asked while this was being accomplished.

“I will not say,” Cixi said, then turned to address the entire room. Everyone froze and fell silent. “Listen to me, all of you. The Celestial Throne has been taken by a usurper, one who has good reason to fear the true emperor and his supporters. If you feel your lives are in danger, take the remaining gold in my storehouse and the jewelry in my cases and flee. Do it now! Su Shun is not a patient man.”

Silence for a moment, and then chaos as several maids and eunuchs bolted for the storerooms and strongboxes. So much for loyalty. Cixi, in her plain clothing, was at the door with the Ebony Chamber in a sack when Liyang stopped her.

“You can’t go alone, my lady,” he said. “Who will sweep the road before you? Who will steer the palanquin? Who will-?”

She touched his arm to silence him. “Su Shun will be looking for a concubine traveling with her servants. It will simply not occur to him to look for a maid in plain clothes traveling on foot with a servant boy. You have been a good servant and a good friend. You should run as well. Alone.”

Liyang pursed his lips and nodded.

The salamander in Lung Fan’s ear glowed softly. She twitched once, then rose. “I must go. I must go now. Yes, now. Right now.” Cixi’s stomach went cold as the Dragon Man walked out the door without a backward glance. Outside, she joined other Dragon Men who streamed from halls, palaces, and pavilions in an eerie stream of black silk, all marching toward the Cool Hall on the Misty Lake. Cixi’s mouth was dry. Were they marching in from Peking as well?

“Mother?” Zaichun asked. “Are we truly leaving?”

“We must, Little Cricket. We will play a game as we go. Pretend you are a servant boy and keep your eyes down.”

“What do I win?”

“Your life.” She handed him the sack containing the Ebony Chamber. “Quickly, now.”

Keeping her own head down, Cixi ran with Zaichun through the pavilion and out a servant’s door. With the palace in disarray and without their usual clothing, no one recognized them, or even looked at them closely. The jade leaf fell into the hands of the bribe-hungry eunuch who guarded one of the gates, and then they were on the streets of Jehol.

Cixi looked around. Word of the emperor’s death hadn’t leaked out yet, and people passed by on the street outside the palace walls as if nothing abnormal were happening. She felt naked without her layers of clothing and her maids and her eunuchs. Still, that was an acquired sense. Her father had been a low-ranking army officer, quite poor, and she had chopped vegetables and scrubbed floors and sewn seams like any other girl for the first sixteen years of her life. It was time to become that girl again, at least for a while.

“Did I play the game well, Mother?” Zaichun asked.

“You did, Little Cricket. But we must play a little longer. From now on my name is. . Orchid, and yours-”

“I want to be Cricket!”

“As you like.”

“Where are we going?”

She thought again. A little voice told her she had enough money in the form of her jewelry to go anywhere in China. There were a number of nice small cities to the south, where she could live a quiet existence as a moderately wealthy widow.

But that would leave China in the hands of a usurper warlord, a foolish man who intended to wreck the world. Her back straightened. No. Just as she had told Liyang, it was time for man’s rule in China to end. And although she herself could not ascend the throne-women were not allowed to rule-she held in her hands the means to govern China properly.

“We’re going to Peking,” she said to Zaichun. “I have friends there who will hide us.” And there I will make this cricket into a dragon, she added to herself. A dragon with an orchid in its ear.