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sound.

Then the emperor turned to Mr. Liu. “We shall go to the Hunting Palace. Make it ready.”

“The Hunting Palace, Sire?” Mr. Liu was taken aback. “North of the Wall?”

“Is there another?”

“Sire, it needs repair…”

“We can repair it when we get there.”

“Brother,” Prince Gong burst out, “you promised to lead the troops in person. Not that you actually need to do it. But if you leave Beijing now, you’ll start a panic.” Prince Gong was always so careful to address his brother with deference when there were other people around; so it just showed how shocked he must have been to forget himself like that.

“You have failed to understand,” said the emperor. It was meant to be dignified. “It is beneath the emperor’s dignity to take notice of these insolent barbarians. Tell Lord Elgin it is the custom for the emperor to hunt at this time of year. The court arrangements cannot be altered for a bandit like himself. Tell him also that at my hunting lodge I often welcome my friends, the forty-eight Mongol princes of the steppe. I have only to raise my hand and they will bring three hundred thousand Mongol horsemen down to Beijing and slaughter every Frenchman and Englishman they find. Elgin should mind his manners.”

I could see from the expression on Prince Gong’s face that this was all nonsense. “You wish me to remain here?” he said grimly.

“Since you are so confident you can handle these barbarians, you will remain in charge of Beijing. No doubt by the time I return you will have settled everything.”

That’s strange, I thought to myself. Our ancestors built the Great Wall to protect us from the north, and now the emperor’s running to the other side of it to hide from barbarians coming from the south. Everything’s topsy-turvy.

I looked around the emperor’s party. Apart from the empress, whose face was blank because I don’t suppose the dear creature was thinking anything, they all seemed horrified.

Except Prince Sushun. He still looked like a bird of prey, but he smiled.

“Your Majesty is right,” he said smoothly. “Let us wear the barbarians down. The added distance between the Son of Heaven and Beijing will provide a useful excuse whenever Prince Gong wishes to delay negotiations.”

The emperor nodded gratefully and looked quite pleased with himself.

But it was the Noble Consort I was watching now. She had wonderful self-control. If she was angry and hiding it, people would never guess. But I could tell.

There were two little giveaways. First, a tiny vein would start to throb on her right temple. That meant she was getting annoyed. The second was a faint flush around the back of her neck. Once I saw that, I knew she was really angry.

I’d noticed the vein when the emperor first mentioned the hunting lodge. But by the time he’d finished his excuses for running away, the back of her neck was red.

“I do not understand,” she began coldly. The moment I heard her tone of voice, I knew we were in for trouble. “If you run away in front of all your people, they’ll say you care nothing for your empire.” The fact it was true only made it worse. Everyone heard. A few glanced at her, but it was the emperor their eyes were fixed upon.

She’s got to stop, I thought. Because I saw where this was going. A wife can be angry with her husband in public and it can all blow over. Even a weak man like the emperor can forgive a fit of rage. But if she humiliates him in front of others, she’ll live to regret it.

I couldn’t speak, of course, so I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned forward and tugged the side of her robe. Nobody saw, but she felt it. She twitched her head, just the smallest bit, to let me know she was aware of the interruption, and her hand reached down and jerked the robe back up, to let me know to stop.

The emperor had given a little start when she spoke. But he forced a smile.

“The Noble Consort Yi has the true warrior spirit of the Manchu. But an emperor has to be wise as well. And she must learn discretion.”

I couldn’t fault his reply. It just showed, if circumstances had been different, he might have had the makings of a ruler.

But she wasn’t having it. I’ve often wondered since if perhaps she’d had some private disagreement with him earlier in the day that she was still brooding about. Who knows? Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to take any more from him.

“Have you no shame? Have you no pride? Do you care nothing for your ancestors or the royal house?”

“We have heard enough!” the emperor cried. “The Noble Consort will be silent.”

I wanted to whisper to her. I’d have gladly shouted: “Keep your mouth shut! Save yourself—if it’s not too late!” But I couldn’t. So I did the only thing left. I reached forward and tugged at her robe again, really hard this time. I saw her shoulders go up in rage. Her head turned sharply. Then she slapped her hand down, hard as she could, on mine. I felt her fingernails cut like knives into the flesh on the back of my hand.

And I heard the brittle crack, loud as a pair of woodblocks clapped together, as her long lacquered nails snapped. She raised her hand and saw the broken fingernails. I glanced at my own hand and saw the thin red lines of blood. She turned right around to stare at me, and I saw a look of venomous rage that I had never seen before. It was terrifying. It was not hatred, mind you. Not hatred, only rage.

“Look at what you’ve made me do!” she screamed. “Get out! Get out!”

I didn’t know how to move. You can’t withdraw from the emperor’s presence without his permission. I half rose in obedience to her, but looked at him for a sign. In

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