The Sword Dancer
After an indeterminately long time, she raised her head. It was getting dark inside the cell. She heard the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps which stopped outside. She stood and peered through the cell door to see a young man holding a tray of food.
‘This must be the most generous village in the province to feed prisoners so well,’ she remarked.
The boy lacked the grim countenance of a watchman. ‘This is from your admirer.’
Admirer? She read the answer from his lopsided grin. ‘Thief-catcher Han?’ she asked in disbelief.
He nodded. Apparently he found it funny as well. ‘The other prisoners in the next stall are eating watery rice porridge. Your dance must have made an impression.’
Zheng Hao Han must have had a strange sense of humour to lock her up yet see that she was fed.
‘Should I take this back?’ he asked.
Li Feng shook her head and he slid the tray through the opening in the door.
‘Tell me,’ she said as he turned to go. ‘Is the thief-catcher standing guard out there?’
‘No, he’s at the tavern drinking with his cronies.’
Celebrating, more like. The dog.
She had first noticed him during her performance. The intensity of his eyes had been enough to break her focus. There was a broadness to his nose and chin and he had an overall rough-boned look that was tempered by the subtle curve of his mouth. She’d noticed because he had been smiling at her, or rather smiling to himself while he was watching her. It was a sly sort of smile, with one corner lifted higher than the other, as if he’d figured out all her secrets.
And of all the thief-catchers that came for her, it had to be the famous Thief-catcher Han that captured her. The formidable warrior, the relentless hunter, the this and the that. Though Han was tall, he certainly wasn’t the giant ox of a man she’d expected, yet he was still strong enough and fast enough to catch her.
Zheng Hao Han had stood out from the surrounding crowd, dressed in a sombre dark robe, with the hilt of a weapon protruding from his belt. She should have known to flee then.
Her shifu had trained her to fight so she wouldn’t have to be afraid, yet seeing those men brought back not only that old fear, but also all of the untold anger she had kept inside her. All her life, she had hated those nameless, faceless strangers who had taken her mother away.
Her anger was without focus until she had met Bao Yang. He had provided the perfect target. General Wang was a tyrant, he’d told her. All of the local authorities were afraid to challenge him and he was intent on seizing more power.
So Li Feng had joined Bao Yang’s group of dissidents. They had disrupted the General’s supply lines, stolen back the grain and livestock he would commandeer to feed his garrison, and worked to cut away at General Wang’s stranglehold over the district in any way they could. But the moment she had seen that extravagant cache of jade and gold, Li Feng knew it was not the typical tribute demanded by General Wang of the local aristocrats and merchants. She had become involved in something more dangerous than she had realised.
Something else in that shipment had finally pulled her away from her alliance with Bao Yang and his rebels. Something that reminded her of why she had originally returned to Fujian province. For the first time in nearly twenty years, she had seen something that was possibly connected to her mother. It was a sign from heaven.
Li Feng knelt before the tray. There was a bowl of rice with a mix of bamboo shoots and mushrooms. It was a simple meal. The real extravagance was the small lamp set beside it. The flame danced within the saucer, providing a tiny orb of light so she wouldn’t have to eat in the dark. Li Feng finished every last grain of rice. When adrift on endless roads, one never knew when the next meal would be.
It was late into the evening now and the sounds of the village outside the prison house had quieted to a murmur. The constable would be off to his bed. The night watch, if there was one, would be settling in for their vigil. She could hear the sound of muted voices through the wall. The poor members of the dance troupe who’d had the misfortune of being in her company.
Li Feng waited a little longer. It was difficult to exercise such patience when trapped as she was. Once she was certain the sky was dark outside, she stood and wrapped one hand around the other. She pushed at her knuckles and shifted the joints beneath the ring of iron. After some twisting, she tugged her hand free. The other manacle quickly followed. She dropped the heavy chain at her feet and blew out the lamp, leaving the cell in complete darkness.
Chapter Two
After escaping from the prison house, Li Feng was forced to leave her companions behind. The thief-catchers and constables would be searching for a dancer so she thought it best to stay away from the performance troupes she typically travelled with. Besides, her quest was now a personal one.
Li Feng approached the jade shop as she did all the others—with a sense of hope. An artisan in the last village had directed her to this mid-sized town, indicating that the shop here was a successful one that would know more about the type of piece she was interested in.
It was only a few hours until the closing of the market. Soon after that, evening would be upon her and she needed to be in a safe location for the night. A woman on her own had to be careful of these things.
There were two worlds beyond the solitude of Wudang Mountain. There was the realm of the cities, an orderly and structured place separated by walls and governed by law. A gong dictated what time merchants were to bring their wares to market and when to close up shop and go home. Then there was another world alongside it. A place of roads and dust and dark city corners that didn’t adhere to the same boundaries. The inhabitants here were dancers and musicians, monks and beggars. This was also the world where smugglers and bandits operated.
An unspoken fellowship existed among those that travelled the roads for the sake of both companionship and protection. When Li Feng left her shifu, she had met up with a dance troupe that travelled from village to village. Sword dancing had become popular with the crowds, and with some practice she had executed one that was entertaining enough that the performers welcomed her into the fold.
With the dance, a part of her had reawakened. Mother had been a dancer, she was certain of it. Li Feng had a memory of her in colourful costumes: a princess in mourning, a flying goddess, a flower bearer. Li Feng could almost hear a firm, but gentle voice from long ago, telling her to hold her head high and keep her back straight, her toes pointed.
She also remembered travelling with her family as a child. They would sleep under a different roof every night or sometimes beneath the stars with Mother curled up beside her. She had had a father, too, but his face was blurred and faded like all the others in her memory. She was afraid that if she didn’t come back and reclaim her own past, one day her mother’s face would fade as well.
When she had joined Bao Yang in his campaign against the warlord, that struggle had momentarily taken the place of her determination to find her family. She had nothing tangible to connect her to the past except for a few vague descriptions of hills and rivers from Wen shifu and a jade carving that her mother had pressed into her hands.
A carving that had been a complete mystery to her until now.
The inside of the jade shop was undecorated other than the figurines and trinkets gleaming on the counter. The shopkeeper who greeted her was also dressed in a plain brown robe. No one trusted a shopkeeper who looked like he made too much of a profit.
‘Miss.’ His respectful tone tapered off as he eyed her up and down. He was likely accustomed to wealthier customers and her plain tunic failed to impress.
Li Feng glanced over the array of bracelets and finery. She had been in so many of these shops in the last days that she was nearly an expert herself.
She pulled out the carved pendant from her sash. ‘Sir, can you tell me more about this?’
It was an oblong tablet that fit easily in the palm of her hand. A magnificent bird was carved on to it, with wings spread in flight. A red tassel adorned one end. Years of being kept close to her body had changed the creamy jade to a deeper, richer colour.
The shopkeeper held the pendant up and his eyes lit momentarily, just long enough for her to catch the interest in them, before his expression became hooded.
‘Not very high quality,’ he said, affecting a tone of ennui. ‘I can give you twenty cash and that’s generous.’
Did he think she was a child of three? ‘It wasn’t my intention to sell. There is an inscription on the back of the jade that I was told someone here might recognise—’
He shook his head and pushed the jade back to her. ‘That is my final offer, young miss.’
This sort only cared about the number of coins in his drawer at the end of the day. Perplexed, Li Feng picked up the pendant and wove around the counter. She ignored his squawk of protest as she pushed through a beaded curtain.
An elderly craftsman sat at a table in the workroom in back. He was busy polishing a statuette of a dragon with a pearl in its mouth. He paused to look up at her with mild interest while his hands remained poised over the pale-green stone.
‘Honourable sir,’ she began. ‘If you would kindly look on the back of this pendant. I was told by the jade carver in Quantou village that you might be of assistance.’
He looked her over just as the shopkeeper had, but the craftsman took the jade and turned it over in his hands with care.
‘Nanyang jade,’ he proclaimed. ‘The carving depicts the Vermilion Bird. Most likely part of a set of four.’
Her heart thudded with excitement. She had indeed seen three others in the same style and with the same inscription on the back, an inscription she didn’t recognise. Bao Yang had noticed her strange look when they had sifted through the stolen treasure. He had offered the set of three to her as a gift as they had been at odds at the time. It always seemed that they were in disagreement about one thing or another during their brief liaison.
Li Feng had no interest in any of the riches from the heist. Bao Yang’s rebellion against General Wang had started to appear more and more like a personal feud. Coming across that set of jade had been fate, if one believed in such things.
The old man held the pendant up, squinting at the corner. ‘The artist inscribed it with his name.’
Li Feng leaned in close, waiting as patiently as she could to hear more, but instead of continuing, the craftsman glanced up at her.
‘I know who you are.’
‘You do?’ Her pulse skipped and her deepest dreams beckoned from the shadows. Maybe this man had known her family. She was about to find the answer to a riddle. To her riddle. Where she came from. Who she was.
‘You stole this,’ he accused.
Her hope shrivelled to dust. ‘I didn’t steal it. It’s mine.’
The craftsman ignored her protest and started shouting for the shopkeeper. Li Feng darted forwards to snatch the jade from his fingers before hurrying out the front door.
The street outside was thick with activity. Painted signboards marked each shop and wares were displayed out in the street to entice customers. She slipped into the crowd, matching the shuffling pace of those around her though her heart pounded insistently, telling her to run. At any moment, she expected to hear the merchant from the jade shop shouting after her. ‘Thief! You stole it!’
But he was wrong. This jade pendant was the one thing that belonged to her. Her mother had put it into her hands with her final parting words. ‘Don’t cry, Xiao Feng. Don’t cry.’
Little phoenix, don’t cry. Those hadn’t been words of comfort. Her mother was giving her a desperate plea and a warning. Li Feng remembered that she and her mother were running from someone, but she couldn’t remember why.
Her current hideout was a hovel a short distance from the main road. The roof was missing shingles and the wooden structure was overgrown with moss. Such a place had once provided shade, drink and a convenient place to rest one’s horse on the journey between cities. Now it provided her temporary shelter from the wind and rain.
Li Feng took care before returning. She held back and led her horse on a meandering path through the woods outside the city until she was confident that no one followed her. The sun was setting as she ventured back to the abandoned tavern. This stretch of road had become a hunting ground for bandits, according to local gossip, and was treacherous for travellers day or night.
Ever since her arrest, Li Feng had sought out shelter in deserted areas or in not-so-legitimate establishments where she could avoid the scrutiny of law enforcers. She had borrowed, or rather liberated, the horse from a courier station. A woman travelling alone was vulnerable to all manner of danger. She needed to be able to move swiftly.
Her master had wandered through the province before settling in the foothills of Wudang Mountain to meditate and dedicate his life to seeking the Tao. He had learned how to fight to survive against bandits and had passed on those skills to Li Feng as well. A sword was difficult to conceal, so she carried knives for protection. Li Feng slipped one into her hand as soon as she dismounted in front of the tavern. She needed to be inside with the door barricaded before nightfall.
Li Feng brought her horse to the hitching post and removed the saddle before tying him down. She entered through the back door to find the main room dark and still. There were a few benches and tables left behind, mostly broken. She shut the doors behind her and fitted the wooden bar into the latch.
The scant daylight that remained filtered in through the empty panes of the windows. The paper that had once covered them had long crumbled. She would sleep here for the night and tomorrow she would find shelter somewhere else. Maybe there was another jade artisan nearby who would be willing to help her.
Li Feng felt through the darkness to find where she’d set her oil lamp. She used her tinder pouch to light the wick. As her eyes adjusted to the glow, a shuffle of movement sent her heart racing.
She reached for her knife just as an immense weight slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. The knife clattered out of her reach.
She knew what, or who, it was, even before she saw him. She knew from instinct and reflexes and the tension in her muscles as they encountered an unmovable barrier. That bastard thief-catcher’s weight was on top of her.
Struggling for breath, she jabbed him in the side, aiming a pinpoint strike against his floating rib. His body jerked at the impact, but he recovered quickly to grab at her wrists.
Her back was against the ground. Blood pumped through her muscles, feeding the fighting instinct within her, but she had no leverage. There was no power behind her strikes. Still Li Feng fought with everything she had. She needed to try to break his hold somehow. She wrenched her hand free to claw at the soft part of his belly—except it wasn’t soft on him.
‘She-demon,’ Han cursed with a grunt.
She had some good names for him too, but she wouldn’t waste her energy. He threw his forearm across her chest while he groped for something just out of reach with his other hand. The rattle of chains made her blood run cold. She renewed her efforts, twisting beneath him, but it was no use. The cold snap of metal over her wrists took the fire out of her.
For now.
He didn’t get off her immediately. Fear choked her as his hand curved over her waist. Instead of tearing her clothes open, he felt around her sash, her sleeves, then checked her boots where he finally found her other knife. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or anger as he threw the weapon into the corner. She felt both.
‘Surrendering already?’ he gritted out.
She had gone still beneath him, first from the fear of being violated, but now because she needed to conserve her strength and think. There was little she could do while he pinned her. Han was too strong, but if he let down his guard now that she was chained—
The thief-catcher ended that thought by grabbing a rope and coiling it around her wrists. He secured her arms to her sides for good measure, wrapping the length around her torso. She thought he might cocoon her like a silkworm, but he knotted off the rope just below her elbows and finally released her.
Panic stabbed at her once again when Han reached for her sash, but it was only to remove the jade pendant. He released her abruptly and sat back, as if in a hurry to put some distance between them. He was breathing hard and his dark hair was askew over his face. Strands of it had been dragged from his topknot during their struggle.
‘Wen Li Feng.’ His expression was far from smug as he looked her over. ‘You look like you’re plotting my death.’
He was right.
She rolled on to her side and tried to sit up, which was difficult tied the way she was. She glared at him.
‘I hate you.’
He barked out a laugh.
She did hate him. There was no reason, no rational reason for him to go chasing after her. Why wouldn’t he give up like any other lowlife thief-catcher?
She finally managed to prop herself up against the wall, flopping like a fish to do so. Han leaned back to watch her. Bastard.
‘You have sharp elbows,’ he complained, running a hand over his ribs.
‘Sweet talker,’ she retorted.
The lantern cast the thief-catcher’s face in deep shadows. He regarded her with an expression that was both curious and assessing. It made her nervous.
She finally calmed down her breathing enough to sound rational. ‘Why did you come all this way, thief-catcher? Surely the reward money isn’t worth the trouble.’
‘You’re not going to claim innocence?’ he asked.
‘I’m innocent.’
He grinned. His eyes danced with light when he smiled.
‘There is a matter of a stolen horse,’ he remarked.
‘Which you can take back. He’s outside.’
‘That hardly negates the crime.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. Her crimes were insignificant compared to those of the corrupt bureaucrats that governed over the province. Bureaucrats that this thief-catcher obediently served.
‘Then there’s also the matter of a stolen shipment of jade and gold.’ He held up her carving. The lamplight flickered over the jade.
‘This is not stolen.’
He raised his eyebrows at her.
She felt a twinge of loss at seeing her sole possession in his hands. ‘It’s mine.’
Han gave the jade a passing glance before tucking it into the fold of his robe. ‘What about all the other missing treasures?’
‘I don’t know what treasures you’re speaking of,’ she said blandly, her face showing nothing.
More raised eyebrows and a disconcerting touch of amusement at the corners of his mouth. That sort of smile in the right sort of light could disarm a woman, but Li Feng only gave him a hard look in return. She was already disarmed and this was definitely the wrong sort of light.
They loved telling stories about Thief-catcher Han in Fujian province ever since he’d defeated the bandit chief known as Two Dragon Lo. Zheng Hao Han had become somewhat of a romantic figure, yet her thoughts were anything but romantic while she was trussed and helpless before him. Especially when he seemed to be enjoying it.
‘Miss Wen.’ He suddenly appeared serious. ‘I’ve been wondering about your sword skill. You say you have no master, but if I had to guess your style, I would say its foundation is from Wudang Mountain?’
She tried not to let her surprise show. They’d had a brief exchange at the tavern, hardly enough for him to discern any particular technique.
He kept his gaze levelled on her, scrubbing a hand over the hard cut of his jaw. ‘From your silence, I think I must be correct. The Wudang forms are known for their fluidity and are often likened to dance.’
Whether or not she hated him, Li Feng had to admit that Han had captured her. Again. He was more than a dim-witted sword-for-hire. He had been carefully tracking her and assessing her abilities. All while she hadn’t given him a single thought. She deserved her defeat.
Li Feng looked at him now with new eyes—as the enemy. His fighting experience, like so many thief-catchers, probably came from serving in the military. His choice of weapon, the straight-bladed dao, confirmed that.
‘The shopkeeper in town told you about me,’ she ventured.
‘You seem to have a fondness for jade shops across the county. Yet you never have anything to sell. I would expect a thief to try to profit from her bounty as soon as possible.’ He was watching for her reaction. ‘I considered that you might be gathering information for more underhanded activities, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.’
‘I told you, I didn’t take any of the jade.’
He wagged a finger at her. ‘So you had accomplices. Don’t try to be clever with your words, Miss Wen. I’m wondering why, after such a grand take, you are not enjoying newfound riches? A falling out with your comrades, perhaps?’
‘If I told you, would you release me?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t suppose begging for mercy would do any good either,’ she remarked drily.
He paused at that. ‘No,’ he said finally, his expression inscrutable. After a tense silence, he spoke again. ‘If you are indeed guilty of the theft, you must accept the consequences. You might be sentenced to time in the cangue for theft. At worst, you may suffer a public beating. Most likely you’ll be sentenced to servitude to make up for your crimes.’ Han listed off the punishments as if reading from a code book.
‘Are you certain?’ she challenged. ‘There was quite an expensive amount of jade stolen … as I hear.’
‘The magistrate will be lenient seeing as you’re a woman.’
‘I’ll be shown mercy after I confess under torture.’
A frown creased his brow. It was clear he was disturbed by her directness, but said nothing to refute her claims. She may have lived for most of her life away from the affairs of the world, but she’d learned very quickly about how justice truly worked. Some magistrates were crueller than others, but none, by the very nature of their position, was particularly kind.
‘I will do my best to see that you are treated fairly,’ he said, though it was a faint promise. He apparently thought having her head and arms locked in the cangue or publicly beaten was ‘fair’.
‘Why would Thief-catcher Han want to help a suspected criminal like me?’
‘Because you rescued me.’ He wasn’t pleased to admit it.
She sat up straight, confused. ‘I did no such thing.’
‘On the rooftop, you could have let me fall.’
Li Feng recalled reaching out for him, her hand closing around his wrist. She hadn’t even remembered the incident until he brought it up. ‘I acted on instinct.’
‘Most criminals only have the instinct to save themselves.’
They regarded one another across the tavern. There was an undeniable connection between them. Like Han, she didn’t particularly like it. Li Feng didn’t believe in fate, but if she hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen. Perhaps he would have broken an arm or a leg. It would have been very difficult to pursue her while restricted to the use of one leg.
‘What are you smiling about?’ he asked warily.
She thinned out her lips. ‘Let me go and you can consider your debt repaid.’
‘No.’
‘But I’m a helpless woman.’
‘Justice is justice, for man or woman.’
She exhaled in exasperation. He spoke the words with such conviction, but she found it hard to believe him. A mercenary didn’t care about justice or injustice. He only cared about his reward.