Mean Sun (The Diaries of Daniel Wren, Privateer Book 1) by Garibaldi Gerry

Author:Garibaldi, Gerry [Garibaldi, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Pelia Libri
Published: 2014-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The Volcano

A perfect bloom was selected that afternoon and planted into an elegant jade vase. I was to accompany Lord Douglas to the residence of Wen Xi to make the presentation.

Greyson and I found an official embassy of six waiting when he arrived at the dock, led by our little interpreter. Our carriage was elaborately decorated with beast-like carved heads with menacing teeth and great bulging eyes, highly colored panels and a round canopy to shade the travelers from the sun, though it was a clear, breezy day. Two small horses drew it. Mr. Wong bowed and bowed and gestured us into the cart.

The driver of the carriage proceeded along a precarious rocky path, which led up a steep incline perhaps a mile from the shore. As we climbed, a lovely view of the harbor rose up, and I could see the Sovereign resting at anchor atop a twinkling bay and the winding parapets that led out to the fortresses.

The four portly soldiers trudged in the dust behind our carriage the whole way, toting formidable ceremonial axes on their armored shoulders and daggers bristling from their belts. None of them carried firearms, but all were so uniform in appearance that one could have taken them for brothers.

“Red is Chinese good luck color,” remarked Wong, admiring the rose. “She will be most pleased.”

“We have heard that Mistress Wen Xi is a very beautiful woman,” said Greyson.

“Yes, yes, yes,” replied Wong. “Much beautiful. Han Chinese beauty—most beautiful.”

The path turned sharply, the bay disappeared, and suddenly a large compound loomed before us. There were no windows or doors, only a single, large stone gate. Our little procession halted and Wong nimbly hopped down and vanished through the gate. The soldiers took up their positions beside two more brothers stationed outside the gate. An hour passed wordlessly between Greyson and myself. Only the taunting screech of sea gulls overhead occasionally broke the silence. Water was brought out for the soldiers in large buckets, but none was offered to their visitors. Wong finally reappeared, impatiently waving for us to follow.

“Wen Xi will grant you audience,” he said.

The dreadful, tarrying little fellow ushered us into an impressive courtyard which was lavishly planted with fruit trees, scented shrubs and flowering vines, all laid out with scrupulous symmetry and thought. The austere face that marked the exterior of the compound gave way to a vista of open rooms and corridors leading into the living quarters. In all, I counted nine bays that composed the compound.

Several cats darted about through the shrubs and bushes, pampered creatures; and it occurred to me that, aside from the two horses, they were the first such animals I had seen since we arrived.

Six women in pretty silk robes in shades of amber, green and earthy browns stood before the largest bay. The women’s lustrous black hair was pulled back from their faces and piled high onto their heads in various styles, cleverly accented with attractive adornments.

“Which lady is the honorable Wen Xi?” asked Greyson in a whisper.

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