But then the oddest thing happened. The one who she thought led stepped back as if unimportant. The one who stepped forward was the man she thought most apelike with his dark curling hair and his wide nose. Surely this was a subordinate, but he spoke in their bizarre tongue, and a ship's captain translated his words into guttural, dockside Cantonese.
Bo Tao, of course, did not speak such dialect. It would be far beneath his dignity, but Ji Yue did. Her old nurse had been raised in Canton and used to sing songs in that tongue. While another translator changed the Cantonese words into Mandarin, Ji Yue wrote down both what was said in Cantonese and what was passed on to Bo Tao.
And so it went with negotiations back and forth until Ji Yue thought her hand would break from the strain. The Dutch wished for more treaty ports—cities on the ocean where they could sell their wares. Bo Tao refused. China had no interest in Dutch goods, he said. The envoys brought more delightful presents—strange fabrics of string woven in interesting patterns, crockery and machinery of bizarre colors and shapes. How Ji Yue wanted to inspect them all, but from her angle, she could only see tiny sections.
Bo Tao yawned. Then with a sigh he glanced at the window and promised to discuss their proposal with the emperor, but he made no move to leave. At first Ji Yue did not understand why, but then his craftiness became obvious. The real gift had not yet been offered.
The ape-man came forward, and his eyes took on a gleam of arrogance. Ji Yue did not like his manner even though he obviously thought he was acting refined. At his gesture, two men came forward with a mediumsize chest. It was placed in the center of the room. Then the ape man crossed to it and with thick fingers he pulled open the lid.
Ji Yue craned her neck forward to see, then gasped in shock. She might be a cloistered virgin, but even she knew the brown powder called opium. It was a deadly drug that had been declared illegal in China nearly a hundred years ago. But even with the emperor's edict against it, the white were more and more overt in their attempts to addict the entire population to its evil. Her father knew of dozens of court officials who either smoked the drug themselves or profited from its illegal sales. Clearly the Dutch believed Bo Tao equally corrupt. Or they hoped that the new emperor would reverse his great-grandfather's edict. They were about to learn otherwise.
Bo Tao's reaction was immediate. He bellowed with rage, and every man in his retinue drew a sword. Ji Yue was hard put not to scream as the Dutch responded in kind. But they were too slow, and obviously Bo Tao had planned for this. Within seconds every foreigner had a blade at his throat.
Bo Tao's nearest assistant stepped out from his position beside the throne. While Bo Tao sat with regal disdain, his man stomped over to the chest and spat in it. He spoke not a word, but his meaning was clear. Opium was not wanted in China.
Two blades trapped the ape-man, one on either side of his neck. Already a trickle of blood oozed down his throat. The ape-man was purple with rage, but he didn't dare move. The assistant walked directly in front of the man and raised a long dagger, setting it carefully—point upward—just beneath the bearded chin. A slight push, and the ape-man would be dead.
Apparently the man knew it, too, because he began to babble in Cantonese, pleading for his life and offering all sorts of gold and jewels in trade. Bo Tao's translator didn't say a word, not even bothering with a man's dying words.
Ji Yue barely remembered to keep writing. She knew her calligraphy would be hideous because she could not shift her gaze from the tableau before her.
Then the assistant moved again. With a flick of his wrist—faster than she could see—he cut a mark like a dragon in the ape-man's cheek. Back on the throne, Bo Tao clapped his hands twice. The sound was so loud that Ji Yue would swear it echoed for minutes afterward.
More eunuchs came in. They poured an oil of some sort on the chest. The stench was so terrible that Ji Yue's eyes watered, and still the Dutch were held immobile by Chinese swords. In fact, all were frozen in place for a long minute.
Finally, when Ji Yue felt she would go mad from the strain, Bo Tao slowly stood up from the throne. If Ji Yue thought he was magnificent before, it was nothing to the power that radiated from him now. He walked like a furious god! He came down from the dais and moved coldly through the sea of swords. He walked straight up to the man whom Ji Yue had thought was the true leader. He stepped before that man and spoke clearly.
"Hear my words from the Dragon Throne. All who deal in that dung powder will be killed." He waited as his words went through both translators. He waited and he watched until the Dutch man dipped his head in acknowledgment.
Bo Tao did no more than blink, but suddenly, all the Chinese swords were sheathed. Every soldier stepped back while the Dutch remained awkwardly frozen in the center of the room. Ji Yue heard their shuddering breaths of relief, and yet none of them dared move beyond that. Meanwhile, the chest of opium was lifted by two eunuchs, tossed into the massive fireplace, and set on fire.
The ape-man scowled as the flames burst higher. The oily stench in the air made Ji Yue draw back, and she was pleased that a tapestry shielded her from most of the thick air.
Then the ape-man cursed. Ji Yue could not hear the words clearly for he muttered them, but it was a phrase she recognized. Her old nurse had used it when only the most vulgar of names would do. They were the last words he ever spoke.
Bo Tao whipped around and threw his dagger straight through the ape-man's thick neck. The man gurgled once, his eyes bulging in shock, then he fell forward, dead.
Ji Yue pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back her scream. The brush fell from her hand and she pulled back from her peephole. For a time, she did not think she could breathe. Even worse, she could not close her eyes because whenever she did, she saw the point of Bo Tao's dagger sticking out from the front of the ape-man's throat. She saw the blood welling and…
Ji Yue bit her lip. She would not scream. She would perform her duties as a good wife should. She would think of nothing else but her task. She had to record…nothing. Nothing else was said. Bo Tao stomped out of the room, but the soldiers remained. And the foreigners meekly gathered up the corpse and filed away.
Ji Yue waited, watching, while inside she shook like a leaf in a storm. Sometime later—she didn't even know how long—someone entered her tiny room. She didn't have the presence of mind to see who it was. But the moment his arms came around her, she turned and pressed her face into Bo Tao's coat.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I am so sorry. I did not mean for you to see that, but I could not allow such a slight from that man. Fear must be lasting and his had already faded. We are in such danger from their opium, you cannot know what I fear for our country."
"I know," she said as she lifted her mouth to his neck. "I know."
"You were very brave," he said.
She released a short laugh. "I was safely hidden. You were the man walking among swords."
"My men are very well trained. There was no danger to me."
She shook her head, easing away from him to make sure he saw her earnestness. "You are wrong, Sun Bo Tao. There is always danger with those men. They may be frightened now with your swords at their throat, but it will not last long. They will return."
Bo Tao's expression turned even more grim. "I know. China will soon be beset on all sides."
There was nothing she could say to that. He had confirmed her worst fears. But then he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Come, come. Let me see what you have recorded."
"I have not finished," she said as she reluctantly pulled from his arms. "Mama taught me to write down my impressions after it was all done."