Читать книгу A Dance with Danger - Jeannie Lin, Jeannie Lin - Страница 12

Chapter Five

When it came to matters of commerce, Yang had a reputation for knowing who to trust and how far, but lately those instincts were failing him. He should have known it was a mistake to try to negotiate a deal with a crooked magistrate and an even worse mistake to return after the staged wedding to try to confront the villain. He’d only managed to get into the same room with Tan at the drinking house before being chased off.

He’d simply wanted answers, but apparently Tan Li Kuo was an even greater scoundrel than he was.

With his initial plan abandoned, Yang stood alone at the ferry crossing while the transport ship approached. For a river vessel it was an impressive sight: three masts with sails unfurled to catch the wind. The vessel was a floating fortress that had seen more than one battle in its lifetime.

The ship cut through the deep waters of the Min River and dropped anchor near the bank. Within moments, the gangplank was lowered.

‘Could that be the infamous Bao Yang?’ a female voice called from the deck.

A familiar face greeted him from the bow and he let himself breathe. He’d angered both a warlord and a magistrate and had precious few allies left. After ascending the gangplank, Yang was met on deck by the captain herself.

‘Lady Daiyu,’ he greeted.

‘Mister Bao.’ Daiyu was smiling at him, though her mouth was tight about the edges. ‘I hear General Wang wants you dead.’

She was dressed in men’s clothing; in loose trousers and a tunic that stopped short of her knees. Her hair was swept to one side, the black lightened to a reddish, rosewood colour by exposure to the sun.

‘I heard that you had been killed.’ A booming voice came from the other side of the deck. ‘I was ready to celebrate.’

A huge ox of a man approached. His broad jaw was roughened by a thick growth of beard and a scar cut near his mouth, making his grin widen to a sneer.

‘Kenji,’ Yang greeted curtly.

‘Yang.’

There was no cordial bow exchanged between them.

Kenji was a foreigner, originally from the island nation of Wa. No one knew exactly why he chose to never return, but it wasn’t hard to imagine he was no longer welcome in his homeland. Lady Daiyu tolerated him and he was one of the few on board who did not serve as crew. As far as Yang knew, Kenji knew nothing about sailing. He was kept strictly for protection and commanded a handful of fighting men. Lady Daiyu would be in an unfortunate position if that beast ever decided to try to wrest control.

Yang did spare a bow for the young attendant who stood dutifully beside Daiyu. ‘Young Miss Nan, are you taking good care of your mistress?’

She fought to keep her composure, though she was obviously pleased by the acknowledgement. ‘I try to, Mister Bao.’

Nan was slight and willowy, but her eyes held a warrior glint. She blushed at him with all the softness of a young tigress.

Kenji snorted. ‘Too bad you can’t charm the general.’

‘I seem to have lost my gift for it,’ he had to admit. He’d foolishly hoped Magistrate Tan would protect his family, but the truth was Yang could only depend on himself now. ‘Are you certain you want this fugitive on board?’

Lady Daiyu’s smile remained fixed even while her eyes hardened. ‘I have no fear of General Wang.’ She sent the girl and the hulking Kenji away, and her tone warmed when she faced him. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘You’re still as beautiful as a spring flower.’

‘Sweet talker.’

‘I’m in trouble, Daiyu,’ he said in all seriousness. ‘I made a mistake.’

Daiyu was older than him, but her age could only be seen in the finest of lines along her mouth and eyes, barely visible unless one was allowed in close quarters to her. And Yang, at one time, had been allowed in very close quarters.

Pretty was too soft a word for her. She was nearly as tall as he was. Handsome rather than beautiful and as confident and at ease with herself in bed as out. She was also sharp and not one to waste words.

‘You used to be formidable. A shrewd and careful businessman. Never too greedy and always a step ahead.’

Yang knew where he’d gone wrong. It wasn’t in trusting Magistrate Tan too much, nor in making an enemy of a powerful warlord. He’d gone wrong from the moment he started letting emotion guide him rather than reason. Every choice he’d made since then had ended in disaster.

‘I need a safe place where my family can hide,’ he began. ‘One that Wang Shizhen with his entire army wouldn’t think to find.’

Daiyu frowned. ‘You can go into the mountains. The Wuyi region hasn’t fallen to the warlord yet.’

‘Yet,’ he echoed grimly.

The plan had some merit. There were many small villages and settlements tucked away in the remote region. Wang would have to scatter his army to find them.

‘It’s been years since I’ve spoken to my brother,’ he went on. ‘I’ll need to go to him and convince him to go into hiding. It could well be that the general knows my identity by now, and I can’t risk their safety.’

‘I understand.’ Daiyu nodded sympathetically. ‘Family is everything.’

At that, the lady captain offered to take him as far as he needed—for three times the usual fare.

‘You’re a true friend,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth.

‘Times are hard,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘And you’re trouble. You said so yourself.’

‘Lady Daiyu!’

The girl Nan was looking over the bow as she waved her over. Yang remained by Daiyu’s side as she went to investigate, standing perhaps a bit too close to her out of old habit. Much of the crew had known the two of them had been lovers and likely assumed he would resume that role, which wasn’t an unpleasant prospect.

Except he was married now and standing on the bank was his wife.

‘Don’t let her aboard,’ Yang said beneath his breath.

Daiyu looked at him with surprise. ‘She looks like a poor lost kitten.’

Jin-mei looked nothing of the sort. She stood with a travel pack slung around her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair fought against its pins. His heart did a little lurch as their gazes locked. The hard set of her jaw warned him that he was in trouble.

This was no coincidence. She’d followed him. Immediately, he scanned the surrounding area. What could Jin-mei possibly be doing out here alone?

Despite his warning, Lady Daiyu beckoned her aboard. ‘Come up, Little Sister! What brings you here?’

Jin-mei was out of breath by the time she ascended the gangplank, but she wiped her brow and straightened her shoulders.

‘Mistress, I wish to buy passage aboard your ship.’

She had assessed, quite correctly, that Lady Daiyu was the one in command and not the burly Kenji who had come to stand beside her.

‘Where do you wish to go, Young Miss?’

‘Wherever you’re destined.’ Jin-mei flashed a sideways glance at Yang before returning her attention to the lady captain. ‘I hope that this will be sufficient as fare.’

She produced a bolt of green silk from her travel pack and extended it to Daiyu, who looked it over without touching it.

‘This is very fine quality. Quite expensive. Are you certain that passage aboard this ship is worth so much?’

Daiyu barely held back her amusement as Jin-mei fidgeted. ‘I don’t want to waste more time negotiating.’

For all her boldness, the girl was staring nervously at the rough characters around her. Yang was tempted to go and put a protective arm around her, but she was still Tan Li Kuo’s daughter and no amount of wide-eyed innocence would make him forget that the magistrate was dangerous.

‘Miss,’ Yang began evenly, ‘this ship is not where you want to be.’

Her eyes narrowed on him. They were lovely, expressive eyes that spoke louder than words. They told him that she blamed him for all that had happened. That somehow, he had abandoned her.

‘This is exactly where I should be,’ she said coolly. Then to Lady Daiyu, ‘I wish to avoid the local authorities, and this ship has some experience doing so, I believe.’

‘And why do you need to flee?’ Daiyu asked gamely.

‘I was married to a man who wasn’t what he seemed,’ Jin-mei replied, shoving a strand of hair away from her eyes. She was certainly growing bolder as the conversation progressed. ‘I didn’t wish to be his wife any longer, so I had him killed.’

Yang nearly choked at that. Lady Daiyu and Kenji burst into laughter.

‘Welcome then, Little Sister.’ Daiyu tucked the bolt of silk beneath her arm and directed Nan to take her to a sleeping berth. Jin-mei shot him a pointed look before disappearing below deck.

Yang waited until he was alone with Daiyu once more before speaking. ‘She’s lying.’

‘Seducing girls from good homes now, Yang? Did she become so smitten with you that she killed her husband?’

He was about to protest that he was her husband, but that wouldn’t serve any purpose. Especially when he was trying to convince Daiyu to evict Jin-mei from her ship.

‘Her father is the head magistrate in Minzhou. He’ll be looking for her.’

‘Even more reason to keep her on board. It’s obvious she has been pursuing you. If I let her go, she’s likely to lead the magistrate to us.’

He gave her the evil eye. ‘I suspect you’re siding with her because she’s a woman.’

‘Think what you will. I’m allowing her to stay because she’s paid me quite handsomely.’ She patted the roll of green silk beneath her arm and gave the order to lift anchor. ‘And I could hide ten runaways on board and it wouldn’t be as dangerous as harbouring one Bao Yang.’

* * *

The girl who called herself Nan led Jin-mei down into the lower deck to the sleeping area. She continued along to the far end.

‘More privacy here,’ Nan explained.

The berth looked like a low shelf built into the wall of the ship. There was a small window cut high above the sleeping area to let light and air through. Other than that, the sleeping quarters were dim. At the other end of the deck, Jin-mei could see several men lounging. They looked ragged, unkempt, lawless and unruly.

When evening came, she would be sleeping inside a ship full of strange men. Jin-mei shuddered at the thought.

‘I can bring you a curtain, Miss. So you don’t have everyone staring at you.’

Nan watched her as Jin-mei eyed the crew suspiciously. The girl looked no more than fourteen years of age, though her eyes seemed older. If this tiny reed of a girl could survive on board, then surely this ship wasn’t such a frightening place. Jin-mei thanked her, and Nan promptly turned and wove her way back to the upper deck.

She had done it.

Jin-mei finally let out a breath. She had run away. She had reunited with Yang and was on a ship that would take her far from her father’s lies and schemes.

But she no longer had a home. A lump formed in her throat. She no longer had a father either.

Broken and exhausted, Jin-mei climbed on to the berth and tucked her belongings into the far corner. There wasn’t a lot in the pack she’d bundled up. Jin-mei didn’t have much of a plan beyond her escape. She’d brought what little money she possessed, and only a single change of clothes. It had been hard to leave Lady Yi and her brothers, but fleeing was easier than having to face her father.

In the space of one afternoon, he’d completely changed in her eyes. And he’d taken the entire life she knew away with him. Suddenly she was trapped in a lie.

He was a corrupt official. A murderer—well, an attempted murderer since Yang wasn’t dead. But how many other crimes had her father been involved in? How many times had she been fooled by his talk of justice?

Jin-mei hooked her arms around her knees and let her head sink on to her arms. There was a slight lurch as the boat began moving along the current. Gradually, she accustomed herself to the feeling of being adrift. She closed her eyes and willed the answers to come to her. What was she going to do now? What next?

‘I’m curious.’

Jin-mei jumped up, startled. Yang stood beside the berth with a bundle of cloth beneath his arm. He didn’t appear angry at her, or startled the way he had been when she’d first set foot on the ship. As usual, he maintained a steady, slightly bemused expression. She wondered if he always masked his emotions so perfectly.

‘I’m curious as to whether you were involved in your father’s scheme,’ he continued as he draped the sheet over a set of hooks around the sleeping area.

‘No, I wasn’t,’ she murmured. ‘I thought you were dead. I...I mourned.’

He paused with his back to her and his arms raised to attach the curtain. She watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he let out a breath. ‘It would probably be best if you went on with your life as if I were dead.’

‘It would be best for me never to know the truth?’

It was still a shock to see him alive, but it only proved beyond a doubt her father had tricked her. She was still dressed in her pale mourning robe. The rough cloth scratched against her skin.

‘Do you know why he wanted me gone?’ Bao Yang’s eyes were cold when he turned to face her.

Jin-mei shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know anything about my father any more.’

Yang remained standing while she sat, staring at her hands. With the curtain in place, they were alone for the first time since their wedding. She could feel her pulse skipping as he continued to stare at her.

‘How did you possibly find me, Miss Tan?’

‘I saw you outside the drinking house yesterday,’ she explained, surprised at how casual they both sounded. ‘I knew you’d come by the river and would be looking to leave the same way.’

‘Ah, that simple.’ He sat down on the berth opposite hers. It was obvious Yang didn’t want her here, but presently his demeanour was cordial, even pleasant. ‘You didn’t run into any trouble travelling alone from the city?’

‘I’m dressed as a widow and apparently widows are considered the most unfortunate creatures on this earth. No one troubled me at all.’

‘Impressive. But I could have guessed from the moment I met you that you would be resourceful.’

‘Why do you say that?’

He smiled. ‘Because of the way you lured me beneath that bridge.’

‘I didn’t.’

Well, she hadn’t lured him, but she hadn’t exactly been beguiled by him either. Jin-mei had done exactly what she wanted, just as she was doing now by tagging along after him.

‘Can you swim?’ Yang asked suddenly.

‘No.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Oh.’

She stared at him across the sleeping berth. He seemed a bit disappointed, crestfallen even.

‘You were thinking of throwing me overboard!’ she accused.

‘Of course not.’

‘If I could swim safely to shore, then you would be absolved of all guilt.’

He made a face as he inspected his nails, but gave no answer.

‘You’re a scoundrel,’ she huffed.

He nodded gravely. ‘I know. You should leave me. Preferably at the next port.’

Jin-mei wanted very much to have something to throw at him. ‘I’m curious as well,’ she replied, in not nearly as pleasant of a tone. ‘You don’t seem very upset at having your life threatened. Did you and my father conspire to fake your death? Was our marriage a ruse from the beginning?’

Yang frowned. ‘I was quite convinced we were married.’ He smoothed a hand over the front of his robe. ‘I remember looking forward eagerly to our wedding night until your father tried to kill me.’

She let out a shaky breath. It was all her father’s doing then. She hadn’t been absolutely certain of it until now. Father had hosted the wedding to fool her as well as Yang. He was not a diligent and honest public servant, nor was he the caring and doting father she’d assumed he was.

‘Jin-mei, why are you here?’ Yang asked, watching her with a serious expression.

‘You’re my husband,’ she replied, her tone flat. ‘I go where you go.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

She looked away from him, towards the wall. ‘What if you had been taught from birth that honesty and truth were more important than air and water? What if you had been told there was no sacrifice too great to make for the pursuit of justice? And then one day you found out everything was a lie. Could you stay and pretend that you didn’t know?’

With a shuddering breath, she tried to compose herself as the tears threatened to fall. Maybe some small part of her needed to remember what it had been like to be that trusting. To be that innocent. That warm and sheltered place could still exist in her heart, but only if she left it behind. Intact.

‘We were both his puppets,’ Bao Yang said soberly.

But the difference was she was his daughter. She could never go back and could never see her father again. Because the moment he opened his mouth, she would now know his words meant nothing and what was left of her fragile world would completely shatter.

‘This isn’t simple,’ she echoed. ‘This is the hardest decision I’ve ever made.’

For a long moment, he said nothing. She thought that he might have moved closer to her. She could feel heat rising up the back of her neck at the thought of the two of them being alone together.

‘The world of rivers and lakes is a dangerous place,’ he warned.

‘I’ve made my decision,’ Jin-mei said stubbornly, her voice thick with emotion. It hurt to see the world in this harsh new light. ‘So rivers and lakes are what it will be from now on.’

Pulling a spare robe out from her pack, she rolled it to create a pillow and lay down. The lurch of the water kept her from truly resting, and Yang was silent for a long time as he watched her.

‘I am very exhausted myself,’ he said finally, stretching out on his berth.

‘You’re staying here?’

He turned just enough to regard her with one eye. ‘Of course I am. You’re my wife and we’re among dangerous individuals.’

She rolled on to her back, staring up at the ceiling while her heart thudded inside her chest. They were only husband and wife in name, and only barely that. Their marriage had not been consummated.

Not too long ago, she had dreamt about being wed to this dashing and successful associate of her father’s. The handsome young man with the laughing eyes and the crooked nose. It might very well have been a mistake to follow him, but where else was she to go? A woman belonged to her father first and then her husband. But more importantly, she couldn’t stay knowing what she knew about her father. She’d rather risk the danger of bandits and thieves than bite her tongue and pretend that she was still ignorant.

This is an adventure, Jin-mei told herself firmly. One that she hoped she wouldn’t regret.