Flashman - 08 - Flashman and the Dragon by George MacDonald Fraser

Author:George MacDonald Fraser
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Military Fiction
ISBN: 9780006513032
Published: 2006-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

"Jung Lu was a noble, a Manchoo, a Banner Chief who would have married you if he could," he whimpered, pawing her feet. "Oh, please, Orchid, i seek only your good—this thing is a barbarian brute —"

"But if I want him, Little An, mayn't I have him … please? He is just a little pleasure … a watermelon seed. And he may have another use; you should know of it … and of other things, which it will soon be time to tell you." She paused, head lifting. "Yes … why not now? This is a good secret place, away from big ears. Go—see that all is safe."

He hopped up, all alarm, popped his head out, and came back nodding nervously. She sat down, motioning him to kneel close, and stroked his fat cheek playfully. "Don't be frightened, small jelly. Just listen." She began to talk, quite unaware that the big ears of the barbarian melonseed were understanding every word.

"Soon, Little An, two great things will happen: the barbarians will take Pekin, and the Emperor will die. No, listen, you fat fool, and keep your babbling to yourself. First, the Emperor. Only I and one discreet physician know it, but in a few weeks he will be dead, partly of his infirmities, but mostly of over-indulgence in the charms of the Yi Concubine. Well, it's a pleasant death, and I give him every assistance. I believe," says this Manchoo Messalina, with a reflective chuckle, "that I could have carried him off tonight, by combining the Exquisite Torment of the Seven Velvet Mirrors with the Prolonged Ecstasy of the Reluctant Shrimp, which as you know involves partial immersion in ice-cold water. But it will be soon, anyway—and who will rule China then, Little An?" She played with her feathers, smiling at his evident terror. "Will it be that amiable

,weakling, Prince Kung, the Emperor's brother? Or his cousin, the hungry skeleton Prince I? Or that murderous madman, Prince Sang? Or Tungchi, the Emperor's only son—my son? Any one of these, or as many others, might become Emperor, Little An—but who will rule China?"

Well, he could guess, all right, and I could have a suspicion myself; I knew nothing of their palace politics, or the immense power of Imperial concubines, but I know women. This one had the spirit, no error, and probably the brains and determination—above all, she had that matchless beauty which could get her whatever she wanted.

"What … too frightened even to guess, Little An? Never mind; leave the dying Son of Heaven, and consider the barbarians. Sang, the idiot, still hopes to defeat them—which is why he and his fellow-jackals have been urging the Emperor to go north to Jehol, on an ostensible hunting trip for his health!" She laughed without mirth. "In fact, Sang knows such a departure would be seen as a cowardly flight, and the Emperor would be disgraced—and Sang, having beaten the barbarians in his absence, would step into his shoes as the darling of army and people.

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