Accompanied by Xiao Yu and Li Qing, Lin Mae strode into the fortress courtyard. It was a huge, torchlit square open to the skies, surrounded by high walls. It was currently packed with a full contingent of her commanders and hundreds of soldiers, all warily eyeing the massive iron cage in its center. Guarded by a quartet of soldiers, each of whom had their long lances aimed at the cage, it contained the captured Tao Tei.
As Xiao Yu had informed Lin Mae, the creature was indeed waking. It had been unconscious for many hours, but now it was groggily lifting its head, its nostrils opening and closing as it snorted the air. Lin Mae noticed that Shen, the imperial liaison officer who had been acting as Strategist Wang’s assistant, was standing further forward than most, his eyes glittering with fascination as he watched the Tao Tei revive. As she came abreast of Shen, the creature made an attempt to climb to its feet, but skidded and fell, its legs not yet able to support it. Undeterred it tried again, and then again, its body seeming to shake itself further free of the sedative with each fresh attempt.
All at once, with a bellowing screech, it jumped up and threw itself at the bars. Every single soldier gathered in the courtyard flinched, many reaching for their weapons, but the iron bars were thicker than a man’s arm, and although the cage rattled they held firm.
To the left of the cage was a long table, on which lay a single item—William’s magnet, which had been placed into a bag of rope netting. Standing calmly beside the table was Strategist Wang, holding a length of bamboo with a hook at one end. As Lin Mae appeared, he bowed, then used the hook on the end of the bamboo rod to pick up the rope netting bag. He turned towards the cage, in which the Tao Tei was fully awake now, its teeth bared, its tiny eyes wild and rolling, snorts of steam rising from its nostrils as it took long, hard breaths in and out.
As Wang approached the cage, the bamboo rod with its dangling magnet held in front of him, the Tao Tei began to go crazy. It threw itself against the bars of the cage again and again, screaming with fury, its talons raising sparks as it thrashed at the bars and floor.
The four guards blanched and stepped back, the tips of their lances quivering as their hands started to shake. Wang, though, kept calmly walking forward, proffering the magnet as though it was a tasty morsel for the creature to eat.
The creature continued to hurl itself around the cage until the black stone was about eight feet in front of it. Then it stopped. The sudden change from bestial fury to quiescence was astonishing. At first the creature shook its head, confused. Then, as Wang pushed the magnet through the bars of the cage, it sat down. A collective gasp ran around the onlookers as the Tao Tei became utterly motionless, as still as a statue. Wang thrust the bamboo pole into the ground at an angle, pushing it down until it could stand on its own, and then he turned to the crowd with a look of satisfaction.
Lin Mae approached the cage slowly, staring in wonder at the dormant Tao Tei. This creature was her sworn enemy. It was the organizing principle of her entire life, the reason for her existence. She had fought these creatures, of course, but she had never had the opportunity to study one before. To stand now, staring into its tiny, dulled eyes, to feel its cold, rank breath drifting over her face, was both eerie and awe-inspiring. There was a part of her that wanted to put her hand through the bars and touch it, feel the roughness of its hide beneath her fingers. She clenched and unclenched her fist, began to slowly raise her arm…
And then the moment was broken as Shen, standing behind her to her right, began to applaud.
“Excellent!” he cried. “We must send it to Bianliang immediately!”
Wang’s smile dropped from his face. His brows furrowed. “No! Absolutely not!”
Shen regarded Wang coolly. He moved closer to the Strategist, taking his time, his robes rustling.
“Strategist Wang,” he said in the condescending tone of a teacher addressing an errant pupil, “the Emperor must view the Tao Tei immediately if captured alive. It is a standing order of the Imperial Council.”
Wang was outraged. “Not now!” he barked. “Don’t you see—”
“Does the General agree?” Shen said smoothly, both cutting in on Wang and turning away from him, in order to address Lin Mae.
Lin Mae said nothing. She looked from Wang to Shen, assessing the situation, weighing up her options.
In a pleasant voice, Shen said, “General, I am curious… how will His Majesty react, do you think, when he learns three foreigners have been invited to a military meeting?”
“Didn’t you also agree to it?” Wang said acidly.
Shen spread his hands, all innocence. “How dare I defy the General’s order?”
“Are you threatening the General?” Wang said.
Shen smiled. “I wouldn’t dare.”
There was a long silence. All eyes turned to Lin Mae. Though her mind was whirring, she stared back at Shen without expression. She was beginning to realize that the position bequeathed to her was not merely a military role but a diplomatic one too. It was a role in which she would not only be forced to make difficult decisions, but also in which, whether she liked it or not, she would be bound to make new enemies.
The Southern Gate of the fortress was slowly pushed open by a troop of Bear Corps soldiers. It was a job that required some strength. The gate hadn’t been opened for some time and drifts of sand had collected against the outside of it.
As soon as the gap was wide enough, a wagon hauled by six horses emerged and began to set off across the desert towards Bianliang. On the wagon bed was a cage covered by a thick canvas tarpaulin. At Lin Mae’s insistence a retinue of Deer Corps cavalry escorted the wagon on horseback. At their head, also on horseback, was Imperial Liaison Officer Shen, basking in a smug glow of self-congratulation.
The huge piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen never seemed to diminish. Peng Yong, at the slop sink, his hands already red and sore from their constant immersion in water, groaned as the door banged open and two Bear Corps warriors entered with a cart laden with yet more dirty dishes.
Peng Yong wondered what his parents would say if they could see him now. His mother had wept with pride when he had left home to become a soldier at the Great Wall, and his father had solemnly shaken his hand.
But he had failed to achieve the standards expected of him. What could he tell them in his next letter home? How could he possibly reveal that instead of protecting Bianliang from the Tao Tei, he had been reduced, because of his cowardice and incompetence, to a menial role more commonly suited to a peasant?
He caught the eye of one of the Bear Corps warriors, who smirked at him. Peng Yong blushed red and lowered his eyes. Oh, the ignominy of his fall was almost too much to bear. He almost wished he had been killed in the first battle with the Tao Tei, torn apart in their huge jaws like so many others.
At least then he would have been looked upon with honor.
At least then his parents, in their hour of grief, would have had a son to be proud of.
Ribs still aching, William made his way back to the Spartan barracks he shared with Pero. He had been laid up in the infirmary for twenty-four hours, and in all that time had not been visited by his friend. He hoped Pero was all right. Lin Mae had told him the Spaniard was unharmed, but since then he had received no further news. He hoped she hadn’t been misinformed, or lying to spare his feelings. Reaching the barracks, he pushed open the door, and was relieved to see Pero slumped on his thin mattress.
“I’ve been looking for you,” William said. Pero did not respond. Indeed, William sensed a chill in the air. Pero was looking at him with resentment, perhaps even hostility. Nevertheless he ploughed on.