The Mandate of Heaven (20 page)

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Authors: Tim Murgatroyd

BOOK: The Mandate of Heaven
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Every sunset the huge cavern was transformed. Hsiung arrived early to watch, taking a seat on a limestone boulder near the soldiers on guard. He enquired whether they had eaten then gazed silently across the narrow valley hemmed in by cliffs.

Below, smoke rose from cooking fires outside hovels crammed with men and their equipment. In the centre of the valley floor was the sinkhole like a gaping mouth in the earth. As Hsiung watched, women emptied buckets of waste into the abyss, where it would fall hundreds of feet, landing on the corpses of those executed after the battle of Port Yulan.

He raised his eyes, alerted by a change in the light, high-pitched sounds at the edge of hearing. Dark, flitting shapes appeared all over the valley, skimming thatched rooftops to form a dense, swirling cloud of swallows. The birds were returning to ancient roosts in the cave. And as they flowed in like a dark stream, another cloud of creatures flapped out – bats, thousands of small wings making the air rustle like a forest in a gale.

Hsiung marvelled at the co-operation that allowed two different kinds to share this place so amicably. Men would not be satisfied with less than complete mastery. Only then would they feel secure.

A chuckle disturbed his thoughts and he glanced round. For all his girth, the fat man could move quietly when he chose. Now he joined Hsiung and for a while they stood in silence, watching the last few bats leave and swallows enter.

‘You wished to speak with me,’ said Hsiung, haughtily. He was determined the fat man would know his displeasure. The latter, however, seemed quite at ease.

‘Well, well,’ he said, with the same Buddha-like smile Hsiung remembered from ten years earlier, ‘how you have grown!’

‘And what of that?’ demanded Hsiung. Without realising it, the young man began to pace, one hand on his sword hilt. ‘I do not know why I should talk with you,’ he said. ‘Because of you I was in the Salt Pans for three years. And never once heard a mention of my father.’

‘What name did you ask for?’ replied Liu Shui.

‘The one you told me! My father’s name. The same name as my own.’

‘I see. Do you think your father was so foolish as to use his real name there?’

Hsiung fell silent.

‘It was wonderful of you to seek your father,’ said Liu Shui. ‘Noble and stupid. A sign of great character. Only, don’t blame me, Captain Hsiung. Your own impatience was the culprit. But that is not what I wished to discuss.’

‘Yet I do!’ replied Hsiung, angrily. ‘Where is he? Did he hear of my prowess at Yulan Port and send you?’

The fat man shook his head. ‘I have no idea whether your father is even alive.’

Hsiung examined him suspiciously. Could he trust anything this man said? Liu Shui glanced round for spies. Only dark clusters of swallows on their ledges were listening.

‘I came to see how the cause of Yueh Fei fares in this district,’ he said, quietly. ‘I must report great disappointment. Especially with your chief.’

Now Hsiung looked round anxiously. Such talk could cost both their heads. Yet he did not contradict the fat man.

‘Hsiung, you should know Hornets’ Nest’s leadership no longer advances our cause. This is the most dangerous time for us. I want you to remember this: ridding our land of barbarians is more important than any single man, however brave and useful he may have been in the past. That is true of you, me, any one of us – even Hornets’ Nest. No,
especially
Hornets’ Nest.’

Before Hsiung could reply, Liu Shui placed his hands in his long sleeves and bowed.

‘I leave tomorrow,’ he said. ‘When the time comes, remember what I have told you.’

Hsiung watched him shuffle back to the bizarre house in the cave, trying not to soil his embroidered silk slippers with bat and bird guano. Then his pulse quickened. Was that a furtive movement in one of the lighted windows? Yet the shadow crossing the window was slender. It belonged to Hornets’ Nest’s concubine.

The fat man left before dawn the next day and those who saw him go remarked on his haste. Perhaps rumours that the government forces in Port Yulan had advanced into the limestone hills sent him scurrying; perhaps he feared another night of Hornets’ Nest’s hospitality.

That same day Hsiung noticed the plump officer who had declared himself most loyal to their chief marshalling a force of a hundred men by the gate. In addition to their usual weapons, many carried spades, pickaxes and large wicker baskets. Though Hsiung tried to learn their mission from his fellow officer it appeared the subject was forbidden.

‘I must do my special duty,’ declared the older man with self-satisfaction.

With that he marched out of the camp, heading north. Hsiung was surprised so large a force, especially of experienced men, could be diverted from their small army when a battle seemed imminent.

A few days later there was another departure, one that caused consternation. The rebel chief himself left his house in full armour, both of his famous battleaxes strapped to his back, and strode down the narrow pathway from his house in the cavern to the valley floor. A sizable procession followed: his personal bodyguard of ‘bravest and best’; three secretaries; a wine butler; two chefs (one for wet dishes, the other for dry), and two servants with large silk fans on poles resembling striped insect wings.

Hsiung, who was drilling the new recruits higher up the valley, watched in amazement as this cavalcade emerged from the camp. More astounding still was that another hundred soldiers carrying spades and baskets followed behind.

Hastily ordering his men to attention by the roadside, Hsiung rushed forward and knelt in the dust. His chief approached on a lacquered throne attached to two thick poles. Twelve burly soldiers were needed to carry it.

At first it seemed Hornets’ Nest might not notice his brave young captain, looking up from the roadway with loyal, expectant eyes. Then a thought visibly crossed his face and he ordered the bearers to halt. They swayed slightly while Hornets’ Nest squinted down. A fresh wind blew through the valley, making young bamboo stems shiver. The sky overhead was a deep, flawless blue, yet grey clouds with golden sunlit edges rimmed the horizon.

‘Well, Hsiung,’ said Hornets’ Nest, coldly, ‘I am entrusting you with the defence of the camp while I am away. Protect it with your life! As for the cave and my own house, no one is to go near. No one! I have left half my bodyguard up there with orders to shoot anyone who disobeys me. Do you understand?’

Hsiung nodded, consumed by a question that prudence could not repress.

‘Sire, why are you leaving us?’

Hornets’ Nest lolled back in his elevated seat and chuckled.

‘When I return all will be clear,’ he said. Then his eyes hardened. ‘Do not fail me! Keep the camp safe in my absence.’

He did not need to mention the consequence of failure. Broken skeletons belonging to former officers lay in the bottom of the sinkhole. Falling from favour took a literal turn in Hornets’ Nest’s camp.

Hsiung watched the column march up the valley until it rounded a corner. The new recruits, hundreds strong, muttered amongst themselves like his thoughts.

All that day Hsiung kept glancing up at the huge cave entrance in the cliff. Had Hornets’ Nest really meant no one should go there? This stung his pride. If he was trusted with the welfare of the Yueh Fei camp, he should have access to every part of it. When Hsiung complained of this to Sergeant P’ao, the older soldier laughed: ‘The camp can burn as far as Hornets’ Nest is concerned, as long as his treasury is safe up there. And with fifty men to guard the path, it’s safe. Do you think he’d let you or any man come near? What do you expect?’

‘I’ll show him what I expect!’ said Hsiung, his temper flaring.

With that he marched off towards the pathway winding up the limestone precipice to the cavern.

‘Hsiung! I mean, sir, I wouldn’t do that if I were you!’ called P’ao, struggling to keep up.

Hsiung, however, ignored him. He purposefully mounted the narrow track as he had so often before. Only this time his chest itched with the possibility of a crossbow bolt. As he approached the cave entrance a gruff voice called out.

‘Halt, sir! We are forbidden to allow you further.’

Reluctantly Hsiung slowed his pace but did not stop.

‘Halt! We have orders to shoot any who come near.’

Still Hsiung kept going, shouting up as he walked.

‘What nonsense is this, Jin! You did not speak so foolishly at Port Yulan. There we stood shoulder to shoulder.’

This recollection was a potent weapon. For Hsiung had saved Lieutenant Jin from a big Mongol with a mace when he had been beaten to his knees. It also allowed Hsiung time to reach the top. There, he found fifty men gathered, all veterans of Hornets’ Nest’s numerous campaigns. Yet they seemed unusually worried. And Hsiung noticed their crossbows were still pointed at his chest.

‘What is going on, Jin?’ he demanded, with a slight smile. ‘Are we all to become deadly enemies because Hornets’ Nest is elsewhere for a few days?’

Still Jin was uneasy. ‘You should not be here, Hsiung. I will be punished for disobeying orders.’

‘Set your mind at rest. I only wish to inspect Hornets’ Nest’s house and ensure it is secure.’

So saying, he marched over to the long wooden building and entered without ceremony. A few servants vanished into side chambers as his long strides echoed through the long central wooden corridor to Hornets’ Nest’s treasure house. The doors were locked and barred and a guard had been posted – or had posted herself. For Hornets’ Nest’s concubine sat on a stool before the doors, propping her elbows on her knees to cradle her chin in small white hands. Her dark eyes narrowed a little as Hsiung approached, but she did not move.


Someone
would not like to see you here,’ she said.

Hsiung glowered. He detected wine in her voice.

‘Probably not,’ he said, stiffly.

‘Then why are you here, Captain Hsiung?’

He was not surprised she knew his name; that was his due.

‘For answers. Why has Hornets’ Nest left in such a hurry?’

Only then did he notice silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Hsiung felt suddenly unsure of himself. He’d known few females and this one was eye-catching. A furtive memory of another girl arose, long ago when the world was green shadows and light, when he had sworn to be a
xia
, her noble hero

‘Why are you crying?’ he mumbled. ‘I order you to stop.’ She did not. His question seemed to make it worse. ‘I’m sure he’ll return soon,’ he said, lamely.

‘That is what I fear!’

‘But why?’

Then she turned her back to him and lifted her silk robes to reveal patterns of whip marks on pale, luminous skin, like an illiterate’s senseless brush strokes on precious paper. She let the clothes fall back into place and looked at him boldly.

‘That is why,’ she said.

A dark flush coloured his high cheek-boned face.

‘Where has he gone?’ he said.

She laughed and covered her eyes.

‘To Mirror Lake! Oh, how he gloated!’

‘I do not understand.’

She replied with growing hysteria. ‘I wish I had never left Hou-ming! I hate these hills!’

‘Speak more clearly,’ he ordered. ‘Why has he gone to Mirror Lake?’

‘To hunt for more treasure,’ she said. ‘To steal an old king’s precious things! That’s what he told me. Do you know what he hopes to buy?’

Hsiung shook his head.

‘A pardon from the Great Khan. He told me! He has sent messengers to the capital enquiring about a price.’

He stared at her in disgust. What filth! Lies of the kind spread by the rebel leader’s enemies! How could such a gross slander be true?

Yet in his heart he knew, he knew. For years Hornets’ Nest had gathered every
cash
coin available and stored it in his treasure house. A pardon would betray all his comrades who had struggled and starved and died to win that wealth for the noble cause, thousands upon thousands of honest men. For whatever pardon Hornets’ Nest purchased could never apply to his followers – they would remain hunted outlaws, while he set himself up in style as a prosperous country gentleman.

‘You are lying!’ he retorted.

And truly, he could not, would not believe his leader, the man who had promoted him for his bravery and resourcefulness, might turn traitor. Hornets’ Nest had sacrificed his whole life to drive the barbarians from their native land. For the Red Turban Brotherhood and the Second Coming of the Buddha Maitreya. For the cause of Yueh Fei. Yet a vague recollection of Deng Nan-shi’s lost voice came to him:
Without the Mandate of Heaven not even a village headman is fit to rule. Never forget that, Hsiung
. And he recollected the hungry, ill-housed men in the camp below and the treasure house gorged with enough
cash
to avert a famine.

A clatter of booted feet in the corridor made him turn with one hand on his sword hilt. It was Jin. The lieutenant glanced at the girl and young man in alarm.

‘You should not be talking with each other!’ he wailed, though that was clearly not the only source of his distress. ‘Listen, Captain Hsiung, a scout has returned. Jebe Khoja and a large column are only forty
li
away! They are approaching Dragon Whirl Gorge!’

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