Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon (14 page)

Ping’s thoughts were disturbed by the sound of someone approaching. A shaman was walking up the hill towards the tower. She wanted to see how he climbed up the soaring tower to reach the star dew. She hid behind a tree and watched as he unlocked a door at the base of the tower. Touching Heaven Tower looked like it was solid stone from the outside, but it was actually hollow. Ping crept closer so that she could see what the shaman was doing.

She expected to see a ladder or stairs leading up inside the tower, but there was neither. A bamboo tube disappeared up the wall. Below the tube there was a bronze jar. Ping smiled to herself. She had been very stupid to imagine that the shaman had to climb the tower everyday and clamber up the statue on the top to empty the jade dish. The bamboo tube must lead all the way up to the top of the tower, through the middle of the statue and up to a hole in the bottom of the dish. The dew from the stars collected in the jade dish and then trickled down the bamboo tube into the jar below.
All the shaman had to do was remove the jar each morning and replace it with an empty one. She watched the shaman walk carefully back down the hill carrying the precious dew. The builders of the tower were much cleverer than she was.

Ping had lingered so long in the Garden of Secluded Harmony that she was late for her daily lesson with Princess Yangxin. She hurried to the Rustling Bamboo Pavilion full of apologies.

The Princess greeted Ping with a smile. After Ping had practised the two new characters that the Princess had demonstrated, she ventured a question she had been thinking of for some days.

“Your Imperial Majesty, may I make a request?”

The Princess gracefully inclined her head.

“I want to be able to read as soon as possible,” Ping said. “I’d like to learn more characters, perhaps six each day instead of two.”

Before the Princess could answer, Ping continued. “I know this will mean that you have to spend more time teaching me each day, but the process won’t take so long.”

“If you think you can learn six characters a day,” Princess Yangxin replied, “I am happy to teach you. I am glad to have an occupation.”

It started to rain. Ping thought the Princess would end the lesson, but instead she sent Lady An to fetch a thick padded coat and an umbrella made of lacquered
silk. The lesson continued. The rain stopped and after the lessons were over, Ping continued to sit with the Princess beneath the curve of a brilliant rainbow.

“The Emperor is looking thin,” Ping dared to say. “I wish he was as concerned about himself as he is about you. It’s not my place to question the Emperor, but I sometimes wonder if his preoccupation with achieving long life isn’t … Ping tried to think of the right word.

“Unhealthy?”

“Yes.”

“My brother’s responsibilities are a heavy burden for a boy of sixteen years. He wants nothing more than to rule the Empire well. Our father, as he grew old, became too concerned with his personal wealth and comfort. He left the running of the Empire to his ministers. Some took advantage of this power. Liu Che thinks a long reign will be of great benefit to the Empire.”

Lady An brought a tray with a teapot and cups on it.

“I didn’t mean to criticise His Imperial Majesty,” Ping said, as Lady An poured tea into the cups.

The Princess smiled. “I know you only have his best interests at heart, Ping. I am glad you are here. He enjoys your company.”

Ping blushed and waited until Lady An had left. “Did he tell you that?”

The Princess sipped her tea.

“Even before I was married, he was being groomed to be Emperor. We didn’t have many opportunities to
be together. When I went to Yan, he was very lonely. He wrote to me about your friendship and I was pleased that he had found someone else he was comfortable with.”

“It must have been hard for you to live so far away.”

Princess Yangxin’s beautiful smile withered like a flower in frost.

“I was just a child when I was married to the Duke of Yan—not much older than you are now, Ping. But I didn’t have the experience of the world that you have. I was so lonely I thought I would die.”

Ping didn’t know what to say. She wished she hadn’t made the Princess remember such unhappy times.

“The Duke rejected me. He sent me back. It is a disgrace for the Empire, but I don’t care.” She smiled. “It means I can be here with my brother.”

When the Emperor came into the Hall of Cool Fragrance that evening, he sat down and pushed his meagre meal aside.

“You must not sit out in the cold and the damp, Yangxin,” he said to his sister.

Ping glanced at the Princess. Nothing escaped the Emperor’s attention.

“Ping’s lessons must stop,” he said.

Ping’s heart sank. Without her reading lessons how would she pass the long winter days?

“I don’t think we need stop the lessons,” the Princess
said. “Couldn’t we hold them in my chambers until spring?”

The Emperor didn’t look pleased with this solution, but Princess Yangxin reached out and touched his hand. “Please.”

“Very well, the lessons can continue … for now.”

Ping smiled her thanks at the Princess, but the Emperor remained out of sorts throughout the meal.

After everyone had left, Ping stayed to help Saggypants clean up Kai’s mess.

“Have you served the Emperor long?” she asked him.

“All my life, madam,” the Dragon Attendant replied.

“How long has the Princess been here at Ming Yang Lodge?”

“Several months.”

“Did the Duke really send her back?” Ping couldn’t believe that he would reject such a beautiful wife.

Saggypants looked around to make sure that no one was listening. “The Princess was very lonely when she was in Yan, so the Duke allowed her mother, the Empress, to visit her twice a year. But on one of these visits, the Princess … The Dragon Attendant lowered his voice even more. “She formed an attachment to the Empress’s senior imperial guard. When her husband found out, he was furious. He beheaded the man immediately. Then the Duke sent the Princess
back … like … like a bolt of inferior silk cloth. She has come to live here at Ming Yang.”

Servants came to clear away the dishes from the banquet, and Saggypants hurried away as if he regretted saying so much.

The next day Ping entered the Princess’s private chambers for the first time. They were on the north face of Ming Yang hill overlooking the serpentine Yellow River. Every wall was draped with silk paintings and embroideries. Every inch of the floor was covered with bamboo matting and woven rugs. There were large embroidered cushions scattered around the room. It was as if Liu Che thought his sister was so delicate she would be hurt if she so much as brushed her skin against a hard surface. It was also very hot. There was a bronze dish on legs piled with glowing coals in the centre of the room. All the window shutters were closed tight. Lamps burning orchid-scented oil gave off a soft light. The Princess was draped with a rug made of deep blue material studded with pearls. No one spoke louder than a whisper in the Princess’s chamber. Ping had never experienced such comfort, but it was a little overwhelming, like a smothering embrace.

“My brother thinks I am as fragile as a camellia blossom,” the Princess said with a smile.

“His Imperial Majesty loves you,” Ping said. “He’s concerned for your health.”

The Princess’s smile faded. “He forgets that I lived for years in the shadow of the Great Wall where even in summer the nights can be cold, and in winter it is impossible to go outside for three months because of the snow piled against the doors.”

She was silent for a few moments, then she wrote a character on a length of silk.

“Cold,”
she said. “Seven strokes.”

Now that they could no longer hold the lessons outdoors, Ping had to practise her characters on calfskin. Her writing had improved. She collected just the right amount of ink on her brush and balanced it lightly in her fingers. She wrote with a confident flick of her wrist. Her characters were like those drawn by a young child, but they were much improved. She wasn’t as embarrassed by them as she had been at first. She had learned some of the more complicated characters such as
blue, chopsticks
and
write
. She had also learned the character for
dragon
and had no trouble remembering it, even though it consisted of ten-and-six strokes.

She had copied all the characters she had learned onto another piece of calfskin. Next to each character, she drew a small picture to help her remember its meaning. She planned to carry the calfskin with her, so that she could revise her characters whenever she wanted to.

The Princess invited Ping to stay for tea after her lesson.

“I would like to try to read a book,” Ping said to the
Princess as they sipped tea and ate honey cakes.

“Thirty-eight characters are not nearly enough to read a book, Ping,” the Princess replied softly.

“I’d like to try.”

“You will be disappointed.”

Princess Yangxin sent Lady An to the library for a book. When she returned, the Princess undid the ties and spread it on a small table. Ping was hoping it would be one of the books about dragon-keeping. She looked at the characters in the first column. There was only one that she could read. It was the same with the other columns. There were no more than two characters in any column that Ping understood. The Princess read out the section. It was about the meaning of numbers. It had nothing to do with dragons.

“One is for the universe, whole and indivisible. Two is for the forces known as
yin
and
yang
—equal and opposite, they hold the universe together. Three is for the three sage emperors of old who ruled with perfect virtue and wisdom. Five is for the five elements—earth, water, fire, metal and wood. All the ten thousands of things under Heaven are made of these elements. Earth overcomes water, water overcomes fire, fire overcomes metal, metal overcomes wood, wood overcomes earth. In this way the universe is ever-changing.”

It was one thing to be able to read individual words. It was quite another thing to understand what they meant when they were strung together in sentences.

Ping was struggling to understand the meaning of this passage, when Hua appeared from among the folds of a floor rug. He scurried across the room. Ping smiled, wondering why he had come to see her now. But he wasn’t hurrying to her. Ping realised he was making his way towards the Princess, holding a bamboo strip in his mouth. He sat at the Princess’s feet and laid the strip on her satin slippers. The cushioned silence of the Princess’s chamber was suddenly broken by the sound of screaming. All the servants were pointing at Hua and squealing with terror. Princess Yangxin jumped to her feet and leapt onto a table. Ping would never have guessed that the Princess could move so fast. One of the servants ran for a broom and tried to hit Hua with it.

“Stop!” shouted Ping. “Leave him alone.”

She crawled over the cushions and picked up the rat. She felt the broom thwack on her back.

A vase was knocked over. The teapot was overturned as people ran back and forth.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Ping said. “Hua won’t hurt anyone. He’s a very well behaved rat.”

The Princess was staring at Hua with a look of disgust.

“Rats are filthy creatures,” one of the servants shouted.

It was the first time Ping had heard any of them speak above a whisper.

“No, he’s clean, very clean. He doesn’t have to
rummage in rubbish for his food.”

Lady An was the only one who remained composed. She tried to calm the hysterical servants. Hua wriggled out of Ping’s arms, causing a new wave of panic, and scurried out of the room. The Princess was still crouched on the table with her serving women gathered around her. Lady An coaxed Princess Yangxin down and led her trembling into her bedchamber.

Ping followed them to the doorway. “Hua didn’t mean to upset you,” she explained. “He would never hurt anyone.”

Lady An came back to the doorway. “The Princess has a particular fear of rats.”

“Why?”

Lady An pulled the curtain across the doorway without answering.

The Emperor was not in a talkative mood at the evening banquet. The Princess’s place to his left was empty. Ping sat next to Kai, who had a special place on a cushion to the right of the Emperor. This made conversation with Liu Che difficult as Kai was continually bobbing about between them and making comments that no one but Ping could understand.

The Dragon Cook brought Kai a variety of roast and stewed birds.

“Birdies!” said Kai with delight.

He ate them all and then started on a selection of
insects, and then six pheasant eggs. Kai’s manners were terrible. He didn’t pick up his food delicately in his talons as Danzi had, but wolfed everything down like a hungry dog. He put his foot in Ping’s bowl of partridge stew. He spat out anything he didn’t like the taste of. Ping scolded him over his bad manners, but the Dragon Attendant patiently mopped up the spilt food, picked up discarded bones, and wiped his paws. Kai took no notice of Ping.

Finally Kai had had enough to eat and he got up for some after-dinner amusement. This usually took the form of annoying the ministers and servants. One of his favourite games was to climb up on tables and plant stands and dive off onto a pile of cushions.

Now that there wasn’t a noisy dragon between them, Ping asked Liu Che about the absent Princess.

“She is very distressed,” the Emperor replied. “I will not tolerate the Princess being upset. My guards have captured your rat. It must be kept locked up.”

Ping had little appetite for the bear paw soup that had been served. Liu Che nibbled on a slice of peach.

“Why does Princess Yangxin hate rats so much?” Ping asked.

“That is none of your business!” the Emperor snapped.

They both pushed uneaten food around their bowls.

“I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty,” Ping said looking at her hands in her lap.

The Emperor’s stern mood softened.

“My sister has had an unhappy life. I suppose you have already heard the gossip,” he said. “How she fell in love with a captain of the guards?”