The Last Concubine Read online

  “Apparently. And Mei Ju has been indisposed,” Ning continued. “There have been no parties for the wives since before we left.”

  “I should send her a note,” Lan said absently. “I hope she is well.”

  “I have had a basket of oranges sent to her in your name,” Ning said.

  “Thank you, Ning. That was thoughtful of you,” Lan said guiltily. “And what of your Captain Wen?”

  “He is watching us even now, to ensure your safety. Remember his oath?” Ning said. “Honestly, Lan’xiu, you have been walking about as if you were asleep since we returned. What is wrong with you?”

  Lan’xiu hesitated. Could she confide even in Ning when her heart was so wounded by Hüi’s absence? After he had told her he couldn’t bear not to see her face, he had simply vanished. “I have been… thinking,” Lan said finally.

  “Thinking!” Ning scoffed. He led her back to the seventh house and opened the door, putting his hand on her back and propelling her up the stairs to her bedchamber without stopping to let her remove her cloak. He shut the door behind them. “I suppose while you were thinking, it didn’t occur to you that perhaps the general might be occupied with other things?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say ‘like another concubine?’, but something about the suppressed excitement evident in Ning’s face stopped her. “What do you know? You little troll, spit it out!” Her heart was pounding as her mind raced with all sorts of dangers threatening her beloved.

  “Ah, so you are still alive,” Ning said, smiling with satisfaction.

  “Was that a trick to get a rise out of me?”

  “No, it was not. However, I don’t know what’s going on. I only know that something is.”

  Clenching her fists, Lan’xiu strode back and forth in her room. “Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

  Chapter 18

  SHE had been unable to eat. Her lantern remained dark, as had all the others within the square, but a feeling of hushed anticipation kept her from reading a book or occupying herself in some other way.

  When she heard Ning’s footsteps echo upon the stairs, she turned her head toward the door.

  “My Lord General and Lord Jiang wish to speak with you,” Ning said. “Downstairs in the sitting room.”

  Lan’xiu grew pale, wondering what matter was so serious as to demand the formality of a meeting in the sitting room. She never sat there herself, finding it too dark and gloomy. Her pretty yellow bedroom was much more comfortable to her, but Hüi Wei might feel now that she was well that it was not proper to admit Jiang there.

  She checked her makeup and picked up a fan before going downstairs, Ning at her heels. When she entered the sitting room, Lan’xiu sank to her knees and made the proper prostration in front of Hüi Wei and then rose to her knees to bow deeply to Jiang. “Greetings, my Lords. May I offer you tea?”

  “You may get up and sit—with us,” Hüi said, as if barely stopping himself from telling Lan’xiu to sit next to him. He seemed mesmerized to see her again. “I always forget how beautiful—” Hüi stopped short and glanced at Jiang, who seemed to be very preoccupied with a thorough examination of the embroidery on his sleeve.

  Modestly, Lan kept her eyes cast down and seated herself on the very edge of a chair, holding her fan to shield her face from Jiang’s gaze. She had never entertained a man other than Hüi Wei in her house and was unsure what this visit portended and how she should act, despite the fact Jiang had seen her at her worst. The oracles had seemed to desert her ever since she had been forced to come to this strange land, but now she felt the familiar internal tugging. She knew not what it meant, but the excitement of her inner vision clearing was difficult to hide as she waited, trembling, to hear what the men had to say to her.

  Jiang began, choosing his words carefully. “You must have heard that Second Wife Ci’an has begun her journey to the afterworld where the gods will no doubt help her find her reward for her deeds and misdeeds in this life.”

  Lan nodded without speaking.

  “Her father, Daji, who lives at Henan, was not pleased when the messenger brought him the news of her death. He does not believe that Ci’an killed herself. It was he who made this a political marriage, and by her death he now holds himself released from the terms of the treaty.”

  Startled, Lan’xiu exclaimed, “Henan?”

  “Precisely,” Jiang said, seeming pleased with her quick comprehension. “The province that borders upon your brother’s.”

  “Lan’xiu, what do you think your brother, Wu Min, will do?” Hüi leaned forward, looking intently at the princess.

  She dropped her fan to her lap. “Wu Min will try to convince Daji his grudge against you is a valid reason to go to war. My brother will promise Daji that he will support him, and once Daji has committed his forces, Wu Min will wait until it is too late for Daji to draw back. He may or may not help Daji as he promised, as the winds blow.”

  “Then you agree with our assessment,” Hüi Wei said, sitting back. It was clear he was thinking more about the eventualities of this encroaching danger than of her.

  “Henan province has gently rolling hills and plains,” Jiang said.

  “My province Liaopeh is mountainous, with dangerous rocks and cliffs,” Lan’xiu said. “It would benefit Wu Min if he were able to choose the terrain for the battle. He will place Daji in a plain that backs up against our highest peaks; there is a place perfect for a surprise attack. When your forces are occupied with fighting Daji, Wu Min could march his men in behind you to surprise you.”

  For some reason Jiang did not appear surprised at the princess’s grasp of military strategy. “Then we must choose the place we stand and fight.”

  “Or perhaps choose to attack Daji rather than waiting for his pleasure,” Hüi Wei said.

  “Or walk into their trap, only to spring it upon them,” Lan’xiu said.

  Hüi’s eyes gleamed with excitement that Lan’xiu thought like him. “My spies will bring information about their movements. If we think like the fox, perhaps we can split our forces to attack in two directions.”

  “That would depend upon what the two venal rats come up with,” Jiang said cautiously.

  “Thank you, Lan’xiu,” Hüi Wei said, getting up and taking her hand to press a kiss to it. “We are grateful for this information. We must take our leave for we have much to plan.”

  “You march to war, my Lord?” Lan’xiu asked.

  “As we have consulted you and told you this much, yes, we will go to protect our borders,” Hüi said. “It was inevitable that matters should come to a head with both these men. We might as well take the initiative.”

  “Then I shall go with you,” Lan’xiu announced, folding her hands in her lap.

  Hüi was at her side in two steps, grasping her upper arms to lift her from her chair and shaking her. “You will not go with us! You cannot ride to war! You cannot fight!”

  “Yes, she can,” Ning said. “And besides, Captain Wen and his men are bound to her through their oaths of honor. They will protect her.”

  Both men had forgotten he was there, and Jiang stifled a laugh. So much for secrecy, but at least Ning had proven more discreet than most eunuchs.

  Hüi growled inarticulately, glaring first at Ning and then his friend who was trying to keep a serious face. Finally he turned back to Lan’xiu and muttered grimly, “I cannot lose you in battle. Not after I so nearly lost you to that devil Ci’an.”

  “You will not lose me, my Lord,” Lan’xiu said. She smiled, secure in her foresight, at least of this. “I am going to help you to victory. I will be in no danger with you to protect me.”

  “I will not be able to pay attention to you,” Hüi explained. “What if—”

  “What if your spies bring you bad information? I know those mountains. I know the secret ways through them. Besides, didn’t you say that you will not lead the charge? You will stay back and direct the troops,” Lan said. “I shall be quite safe in the rear with you
.”

  Hüi relaxed his grip enough that Lan’s feet touched the floor again. He looked first at Ning, and then at Jiang. “I won’t even ask Ning’s opinion. He is so besotted with his princess, he would say anything to procure her whatever she wants, but you, Jiang, must see this is madness.”

  “I see nothing of the sort,” Jiang said. “The princess is quite correct. She would be of immense help in the field. And she didn’t do so badly against Ci’an even though wounded.”

  “You are all mad,” Hüi said in disgust. With clenched teeth he said in a low voice, “Lan’xiu, I cannot see you hurt again. What if you should be taken prisoner?”

  Her face paled, but Lan’xiu did not yield. “That is not in your destiny, my Lord. I see my way clear and it is imperative that I accompany you.”

  “You can cast oracles?” Jiang asked.

  “Not for myself,” Lan’xiu said. “For others, perhaps. My goddess deserted me when first I came here, but now I feel her presence again. Victory is by no means assured, but it can be achieved.”

  “I will have wine brought here that you may make the necessary sacrifices,” Hüi Wei said. “Only then I will make the decision whether you are going, not you.” He strode from the room without another word, and Jiang hurried after him after taking his leave of the princess.

  “He seemed upset,” Ning commented.

  “You’d better find me some armor that fits,” Lan’xiu said.

  “We’re going?” Ning rubbed his hands together eagerly.

  “You bloodthirsty imp. Yes, we are going,” Lan laughed.

  “You haven’t even asked for signs yet.”

  “I don’t need to cast the bones, I can feel it in my own,” Lan’xiu said. “I have a role to play in this conflict. One thing I do know: if I don’t accompany him, Hüi Wei will not return.”

  “You don’t mean to sacrifice yourself for him, do you?” Ning asked in alarm.

  “I will cast the oracles tonight, and then we shall see, but tell me, Ning, loving him as I do, what good would life be to me without him?”

  LAN was waiting for Hüi when he returned that night, without having his lantern lit.

  “You knew I could not stay away,” Hüi said, when he saw he was still awake.

  “I hoped you could not,” Lan said, holding his hands out to his lover.

  Hüi took him into his arms, holding him and inhaling his scent. “This week has been hell, staying away from you, knowing you were waiting for me,” Hüi whispered into Lan’s skin. “I could not risk your safety with Daji’s emissaries here within the city, watching with their sly eyes. I wanted you so much.”

  “I missed you.”

  “I cannot live without you near to me. I am going to take you into the palace so we are always near,” Hüi said.

  “What of Mei Ju and the others?” Lan asked, his heart pounding. He wanted desperately to live with Hüi, but the others were here first.

  “I never knew what love was until I met you,” Hüi muttered. “Now I understand—but no matter what pain I cause them, I can’t help myself. I must have you near me always.”

  “Then you will take me with you to fight?”

  “You understand, like Ning I hate to deny you anything you desire, but the thought of your precious body, hurt, bloodied, broken on the field of battle—I cannot even imagine living through such horror. It was bad enough seeing you standing there, your life blood dripping on the floor, shaking like a leaf in front of that devil Ci’an—” Hüi broke off and buried his face in Lan’s neck again.

  Raising his hand, Lan stroked Hüi’s rough locks. “Believe me, my Lord, I do not want to die and leave you. I wish we never had to be parted. But I have received the omens tonight, and I will suffer no harm if I go with you. It was not made clear to me, but I have some part to play in this conflict on your behalf.”

  “Daji and Wu Min have their own spies. They must know the turmoil that has ensued in this household,” Hüi said. “If they know that, they may also know that I hold you dearer than any other of my wives. You will be a target.”

  “Not if I am disguised as a man,” Lan said.

  Hüi released him, and they stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter at the irony. “News has been brought to me that Ning is busy trying to scrounge a suit of armor for you. Tell him to stop. I shall see to it myself. I shall send for you on the morrow, and you will have a suit made to measure. I shall not see my warrior princess go to war in a shabby, borrowed outfit.”

  “How exciting! I have always wanted armor,” Lan said. He put his hands up to touch Hüi’s face, caressing each cheek. “But not as much as I have wanted you.”

  “I have missed you, Lan’xiu,” Hüi said in a throaty growl. He picked up the slight young man and, holding him, went to the bed where they fell upon the mattress together. The bed frame gave out a loud groan and Lan’xiu giggled.

  “There goes my reputation,” he said.

  “The only reputation you need is that everyone knows how much I love you and want you,” Hüi said.

  He bent his head to take Lan’s mouth in a deep, probing kiss.

  HER heart was pounding when she rapped upon First Wife’s door. Ning had argued that it could only cause both her and First Wife pain should Lan’xiu make this duty call, but she could not go without first thanking Mei Ju for her kindness.

  Much had changed within the household. Mei Ju must have heard by now that Princess Lan’xiu, concubine of the first order, was being taken to live within the palace. Most likely Hüi Wei had done First Wife the courtesy of telling her himself. Lan’xiu steeled herself to face anger and hatred, knowing how she would feel in Mei Ju’s place.

  When the servant came to the door, she opened her eyes wide in surprise at Lan’xiu standing alone and uninvited upon the step. However, she permitted the princess to come inside while she went to announce her to Mei Ju.

  To Lan’s surprise, the servant came back and said, “Please follow me, Princess.”

  She was ushered into a small room on the second floor, where Mei Ju was sitting, staring out the window, dressed in a white gown of mourning, her empty hands resting on the arms of her chair.

  Lan’xiu bowed low in respect. “First Wife, I have come to thank you for your kindness to me.”

  Mei Ju turned an implacable face to Lan’xiu, her eyes hard and dry. “And this is how you repay my kindness? You steal my husband’s heart from me?”

  Miserably, Lan’xiu stood silent. There was nothing she could say in answer to this ravaged agony; no defense she could make. She knew how she would feel if someone took Hüi from her now.

  Mei Ju merely sat waiting for a response that never came, her hands clenching the carved arms of her chair. “I knew, when first I saw you, that you were too beautiful for a mere man to resist, but I did not think Hüi would raise you to supplant me. You played your cards very well, pretending to be so modest and sweet.”

  Lan flinched and her face worked with emotion. “I am so sorry, First Wife. I did not—”

  “Be silent!” Mei Ju’s voice was harsh, like shattering glass. “I don’t care to listen to your excuses and apologies.”

  “Perhaps I should not have come.” Lan’xiu waited a moment, but Mei Ju’s face did not soften. She turned to go. “Please believe me, First Wife, I did not come here with any intention of causing you pain.” She went to the door and opened it.

  “Princess Lan’xiu! Wait!”

  Lan’xiu froze and then turned to face Mei Ju, unable to conceal the torment on her face.

  “I—I must apologize to you,” Mei Ju said stiffly. “The gods have dealt me a cruel blow, but that is no excuse for me to visit my bitterness upon you. You have done nothing wrong.”

  Lan stood with her head bowed, not knowing what to do. “You are most gracious, First Wife.”

  “My—Hüi Wei has informed me that you had no choice when you were sent here, that your brother expected him to reject or kill you.” Mei Ju shook h
er head, as if she still couldn’t fathom why this would be so, but it was of little importance. “I knew when we met that you were in the grip of dread. I could tell you were innocent, that you possessed no arts to enslave Hüi’s mind and heart.”

  “Lady First Wife, if there was anything I could have done—”

  “I know.” Mei Ju held up a hand. “Come, Lan’xiu, sit down by me. And call me Mei Ju.”

  Uncomfortably, Lan’xiu crossed the room and sat cautiously on the edge of the chair. There was nothing she could think of to say to assuage the pain of a woman whose heart had been direly injured, through no fault of her own but entirely because of her.

  Mei Ju stared out over the tile roofs. “I knew he would love you. I thought I had prepared myself for it, but there is no way to anticipate the depths of pain… I thought he would always return to me… we have been such friends….”

  “He will return to you,” Lan said, her soft voice hiding her own pain at the thought.

  “Of course he will. Hüi Wei is far too kind to ignore the mother of his children.” Mei Ju put her hand over her mouth in dismay and turned to Lan’xiu. “I’m sorry, I had forgotten. The special physician said that you will never be able to bear Hüi Wei a child after what Ci’an did to you. I am sorry for you.”

  Lan covered her eyes for a moment. Mei Ju’s sympathy was almost more than she could bear. “I will never give him a son,” she acquiesced.

  Mei Ju leaned forward and twined their fingers together. “Then you know how bereft I am, as I know your pain.”

  For a moment, Lan felt deep shame and guilt that this woman was so deceived as to what she was, but then the regret that she truly could not bear her lover children made her lips tremble. “At least he has your children. You have given him many fine sons and daughters.”

  “At least I have that. You are generous to say so.” Mei Ju smiled through her tears. “I will always have that honor.” She leaned forward to search Lan’xiu’s eyes. “Do you truly love him?”