The China Bride (Bride Trilogy) by Mary Jo Putney

Author:Mary Jo Putney [Putney, Mary Jo]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2006-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

Troth’s quick visit to the inn secured garments even shabbier and more anonymous than those she’d been wearing. She left none too soon. An army patrol arrived and started to bang on the door to the innkeeper’s rooms moments after she fled.

With the streets still full of merrymakers, it was easy to fade away and find shelter. She shinnied over the wall surrounding the grounds of a small temple and spent the night in its garden, taking shelter under the temple eaves when rain fell.

Sleep was impossible when she was so full of regrets and questions. If only she’d obeyed her instinct to avoid Feng-tang. If only they’d spent the evening in their bed rather than joining the festival. If only they’d followed the other road to Canton, which crossed less-populated territory.

A bitter reminder that regrets were useless led to wondering about the best way to get to Canton. She’d have to go to Chenqua—he had the viceroy’s ear, and within hours troops would be on the way to Feng-tang to collect Kyle. She shuddered to think of Chenqua’s anger, and how bitterly disappointed he would be, but there was no other way.

She left the temple grounds at first light. It was a market day. Buying fruit at one stall, steamed buns at another, she wandered through the crowd, scarcely noticed when there was so much interesting news to discuss.

The market buzzed with rumors. Two demons had arrived to curse the prefect’s baby. One had been captured, striking down five men before he was taken away, while the other flew shrieking into the night. No, not demons but Fan-qui, one of whom now lay in the city dungeon while troops combed the city for the other. Everyone leaving the city was searched, every cart stabbed with swords to ensure that the second foreign devil couldn’t escape.

It was lucky the soldiers had decided that Troth was a Fan-qui. She’d be able to leave the city easily, especially if she waited until later in the day, when the search would begin to flag.

She was sipping tea at a stall when a Bannerman swaggered up beside her and ordered a cup. She drifted away, but stayed close enough to hear what was said as the owner of the tea stall said eagerly, “Tell the story, Yee! Is there truly a Fan-qui?”

The Bannerman swallowed his tea in one gulp and held out his cup for another. “He’s real enough. I was one of the ones who captured the Red Bristle. A great ugly brute. Fought like three demons.” He drank again, more slowly this time.

The tea man asked, “What will be done with him?”

The soldier preened, smoothing his mustaches as he drew out the moment. “Tomorrow morning he will meet the ghosts of his ancestors. The prefect is giving him a European execution. A dozen musket men will shoot him at dawn.”

“Barbaric!”

The Bannerman shrugged. “Suitable for a barbarian.”

Troth’s vision darkened and she swayed on her feet, close to fainting. Dear gods, a firing squad! He couldn’t be killed out of hand like this, with no trial or criminal charges!

But he could.

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