The Last Concubine (21 page)

Jiang gasped at the horror of the story. It was not that such things were unheard of, but Lan’xiu seemed so beautiful and gentle. A pity that something so heinous should happen to her, but the gods sometimes laid out a difficult path even for those most deserving of kindness. “I am glad you both survived.”

“Only to fall into this fix,” Ning said with a sigh. “Lan’xiu used to run and ride through the mountains around her home. First her brother jails her, and now she is kept trapped within a gilded cage, with no sight of the mountains or lakes she loves.”

Jiang hesitated. “Hüi Wei thinks she loves him.”

“She does, truly. I have never seen her like this before,” Ning said. “And for love of him, I am sure she will stay here, waiting for her lantern to be lit, taking what few crumbs he offers.”

“I am sorry,” Jiang repeated, but he had much to think about.

When Hüi Wei did not return, Jiang grew worried about what could be keeping him. It could be nothing dire, but then perhaps another calamity might have claimed his attention. When the sky grew light, Jiang deemed it safe to leave Lan’xiu in the care of the faithful Ning and took his leave. To his relief, Lan’xiu’s color was better, and she seemed to have fallen into a natural sleep.

N
ING
was grateful to see Jiang go. To have these men pushing in where it had always been only him and Lan’xiu was unsettling for him. He could not deny that they had been helpful, and it had even made him feel safer while guarding her, but he could relax now. The secret he had held for Lan’xiu for so long had become sacred to him, and he wasn’t sure he liked that now these two men were privy to it. No telling if or when they might make a slip, and he had no power to constrain their tongues.

After Jiang left, Ning locked the bedroom door and made sure the door to his adjoining room was locked to the hallway as well.

Lan’xiu looked perfectly beautiful and relaxed, asleep on the bed with her hair in one thick plait. She had turned onto her side, lying with her cheek pillowed on one hand, her mouth slightly open.

Ning yawned. He had been awake more than twenty-four hours at this point and felt exhausted himself. Secure in the knowledge that no one could get in, he settled himself on the window seat and nodded off.

L
AN
’
XIU
stretched with her eyes squeezed shut. She knew she was in her bed and alone, but something did not feel right. She placed her hand on her stomach. She was feeling very empty, but she did not wish to eat. Her ribs and stomach muscles were sore, her throat ached, and her mouth was dry. She felt weak and, even worse, uneasy without quite knowing why.

She also needed to relieve herself badly.

A sixth sense for danger made her squint around the room first rather than opening her eyes. A snore made her giggle silently, but she stopped because it hurt her ribs too much. She recognized that snore; it was Ning. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sight of him curled up on the window seat. No doubt he would berate her later for not waking him to help her to the bathing room, but she refused to admit she might need help.

A vague memory of being violently ill and Ning singing to her made her suspect he had been up with her all night. He did enough to serve her; she did not need his help for this.

After relieving herself, Lan’xiu looked into the mirror and gasped at her beastly appearance. Dark circles under eyes like burning coal stood out in her white face. In addition, she had a deep crease across one cheek from the pillowslip. After washing her face and drying it, she pushed back the strands of hair surrounding her face that had loosened from her braid while she was sleeping.

But her bare feet were getting cold on the stone floor, and she didn’t want to linger in the bathing room. She had some confused recollection of being miserable there last night, but she pushed the memories away. She wasn’t ready to deal with them, and there seemed to be no obvious injury other than general soreness. She decided to go back to bed.

She was barely settled when a tap sounded on the door. Instantly, she sat bolt upright in the bed, her heart pounding in alarm. Ning was also jerked out of a sound sleep and on his feet in an instant. They both remained silent, waiting.

As they watched, the doorknob twisted and rattled slightly, but no one entered. Ning made the motion with his hand of locking the door and held up the key. Lan’xiu nodded.

A faint rustling and some whispers sounded outside, and they waited for the intruder, whoever it was, to go away. Then a second, louder knock sounded.

“Is that you, Jia?” Ning called out.

“It is I, Dr. Mu, the court physician,” a male voice answered. “The Governor Qiang Hüi Wei sent me to give Princess Lan’xiu some medicine.”

Two pairs of frightened eyes met. Ning shrugged and Lan’xiu sat tense, the quilt clutched to her bosom.

“Hüi Wei is concerned and ordered me to see the princess with my own eyes and report back to him that she is well.”

“Open the door,” Lan’xiu told Ning.

“I do not have a good feeling about this,” Ning said. “I told—”

“Open it. If it is a trick, we will be ready.”

N
ING
paused and then went to the door. When he opened it, a short man with a doctor’s hat entered the room, bowing low. He remained just inside the door, looking at Lan’xiu curiously. He held out a small glass bottle to Ning. “Medicine for the princess. I will not touch you without your permission, Princess. My only mission is to assure myself that you are well.”

“Thank you for your concern, Dr. Mu. As you can see, I am quite well,” Lan’xiu said.

“But your throat pains you, doesn’t it?” Second Wife Ci’an said, pushing her way into the room past the doctor. Her hair was pulled back into a single queue, and she wore a plain jacket with men’s trousers and a hat like the doctor’s. In her right hand she held a short sword, and she was grinning wickedly. “Did you get sick from the wine? Pity you didn’t come down with the same permanent hangover as stupid little Alute.”

“You must be mad,” Lan’xiu breathed. “You cannot hope to come here to murder me and get away with it.”

Dr. Mu was looking at Ci’an with a little nervousness, but he hovered behind her, still clutching the glass bottle Ning had not taken.

“Your servants will say two male doctors came to your house. They will find you dead with your tame eunuch. No doubt people’s lurid minds will imagine some lover’s quarrel where you killed each other. Perhaps we’ll pose you. Naked, with your legs spread apart and running with blood.” Ci’an licked her lips and laughed.

“Ci’an-xiānsheng, you cannot be serious. You cannot do this!” the doctor said nervously.

“Shut up, you stupid little worm. Address me as Second Wife! At least for now until I am First Wife,” Ci’an snapped. She approached the bed and raised her short sword. “I shall enjoy this. Let Hüi Wei suffer when he loses your precious little cunt. Your death is a paltry price for that satisfaction.”

“Ning!” Lan’xiu cried out. “My sword!”

Ci’an raised her own sword above her head and brought it down, swinging wildly.

While Lan’xiu sprang from the bed and raised her right arm to block the blow, knowing the blade would bite deep into her flesh, Ning raced into his room where the weapons were hidden.

Ning ran back clutching two swords and tossed one to Lan’xiu, who caught it in her left hand. She whirled to face Ci’an, her plait flying, her face set in a fierce smile. “And now we fight, Ci’an.”

“To the death!” Ci’an snarled. She raised her sword and charged in again.

N
ING
yanked the doctor back against the wall, holding his sword against the man’s throat. He dragged him out of the room, shrieking at the top of his lungs, “Jia! Jia, you useless sow! Jia, come to me!”

He wanted nothing more than to slay Ci’an and place her lifeless body at Lan’xiu’s feet as an offering, but he knew the princess would never forgive him if he did not allow her to fight. He would have to leave it to her to defend herself.

The noises within the room did nothing to comfort him, but at least the doctor seemed shocked into compliance, for he did not struggle.

When Jia at last appeared in the hall downstairs, Ning flung a few orders and choice words at her and edged back into the room, dragging the doctor with him.

Lan’xiu’s sleeve was crimson with blood, but her intense eyes glowed with the joy of battle and the concentration Ning had taught her. He knew that she was aware that he was there, but she never made the mistake of taking her gaze off Ci’an.

It was clear that Ci’an was buoyed along by hatred and not training, for her form was bad and she lacked discipline. She hacked away wildly with her short sword, as if sensing weakness within the princess, relying on brute strength rather than finesse.

However, Lan’xiu fought her off cleverly, using techniques that Ci’an did not have the knowledge to recognize or combat. Aware that her recent illness and the blood dripping from the wound in her arm would curtail her endurance, Lan did not attack. She would first allow Ci’an to commit to one of her wild swings and then parry it, letting the blade slip harmlessly over her own. She ducked past Ci’an and whirled to face her again.

“I hate you!” Ci’an said through clenched teeth. She lunged, aiming for the wounded arm.

“I rather gathered you did.” Lan’xiu slid away from the attack again, and Ci’an staggered forward off balance when her sword connected only with empty air. Lan’xiu raised her longer blade and sliced Ci’an’s cheek and earlobe before she danced away out of reach.

“You bitch! You scarred me!” Ci’an dropped her sword and raised her hand to her face, staring at the blood in disbelief.

“That is not the only scar you will carry as a keepsake to remember me by,” Lan’xiu said contemptuously. She kicked Ci’an’s sword closer. “Pick it up! You promised to kill me, remember?”

Ci’an dove for the sword and circled Lan’xiu, a little more cautiously now, looking for an easy opening, still without any understanding of her own difficulty in battling a well-trained, left-handed swordswoman.

Ning circled his arm about the doctor’s throat, keeping his body pressed against his own, ready to strangle him if he felt the doctor move. It was thrilling to witness Lan’xiu in action in her first real fight, and he didn’t want to miss anything, even though he feared for her. If the doctor turned rabbit and scampered off, he would be forced to catch him, so Ning maintained a firm, choking grip on him.

L
AN
’
XIU
could feel her breath coming more quickly but, despite that, kept a contemptuous smile upon her lips, knowing it would irritate Ci’an into making a mistake. It was her only advantage now, when she was weak from being ill. The dull throb in her arm made her aware that she was still losing blood. She would have to take control and end this fight, for she could not afford a long one.

Ci’an shrieked in frustration and raised her sword, charging at Lan’xiu. “You will have a scar like mine to remind him of me when he looks at your dead body!”

Lan’xiu darted away from Ci’an’s blade and feinted as if too weak to ward off the blow. Ci’an cried out in triumph and tried to lever the sword from Lan’xiu’s hand. It was the move Lan’xiu was waiting for. She employed the same trick Hüi Wei had successfully employed upon her during their first meeting and used Ci’an’s force against her to flick the blade out of her hand.

Thwarted and frustrated, Ci’an charged at Lan’xiu with her hands outstretched, as if to strangle her. Lan’xiu launched herself into a somersault through the air, avoiding Ci’an’s grasp and landing behind her. As Second Wife turned to face her, Lan’xiu drew her blade down Ci’an’s other cheek and away from her, slicing off her earlobe and the earring in it.

“So much for your taste in earrings.”

Ci’an screamed in pain and clutched her bleeding ear. “I shall kill you for this!”

“You said that already, but you don’t seem to be making much headway,” Lan’xiu said. It was costing her more to hide her pain now, but the chance to best Ci’an was too heady for her to resist. “If you care to try again, your sword landed there.”

Without bothering with the sword, Ci’an aimed a high, roundhouse kick at Lan’xiu, who leaned away to let the foot sail by her head. When Ci’an was forced by her momentum to turn away, Lan kicked her in the ass, knocking her to the floor on her hands and knees.

“There, you are much closer to your weapon now. Pick it up,” Lan commanded, sounding every inch a princess.

Ci’an moaned as if in too much pain but then suddenly lunged for her sword and came up slashing wildly. Lan’xiu blocked her amateurish attempts and waited for another mistake. Sensing that Ci’an was sucking desperately for air, Lan’xiu used a series of short stabbing motions to repeatedly prick Ci’an in the face, neck, and hands, inflicting long, bloody scratches to enrage her. Ci’an dropped her sword and started to scream, batting ineffectively at the unrelenting blade with her bare hands.