The Last Concubine

the eunuch’s voice touched Hüi, and pity moved within him as Ning sank down on his knees to kiss Lan’s hand. Then the eunuch stood up and cleared his throat, saying, “Fight well as I taught you. Don’t let him have it all his own way. Let your sword taste his blood even if he kills you at the last!”
    “Get out of here, you bloodthirsty little demon,” Lan said. He gave Ning a push. “Go now. Go quickly. All the way downstairs.”
    Glaring at Hüi, Ning circled him and left the room, closing the door.
    Both Lan and Hüi waited for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs to fade away.
    “My Lord, grant me one wish whether you slay me or not?” Lan’xiu asked anxiously.
    “What is it?” Hüi asked a little impatiently.
    “When you kill me, I beg of you, let Shu Ning live. He is a mere eunuch. He can do you no harm. He came here to serve me, knowing it would mean his death as well as mine. However much I value his faithfulness, death would be a poor reward for his loyalty.”
    Hüi considered for a moment. “Very well. I will not guarantee that he may remain here in my city, but I will spare him as a boon to you.” Then Hüi raised his sword. “At your pleasure.”
    “I will be yours in a moment.”
    Unaccountably, Hüi found himself wishing that could be true, and he watched as Lan set down his sword and tied his hair back before tucking the hem of his hanfu into his sash to free his legs. Then the boy picked up the sword as if he was familiar with its heft in his hand.
    They both knew Hüi would inevitably win. He was taller, broader, more muscular; but evidently Lan had some iron in his soul, despite his wearing women’s clothing.
    He circled Hüi cautiously, and Hüi had to laugh when he realized Lan was trying to get him into position so the light of the fire would be in his eyes. He interrupted that plan with a feint only to be surprised and pleased to feel the strong parry of Lan’s sword.
    The joy of the fight was upon Lan’s face, making it much more beautiful than when pinched with fear. Even though he knew he would die, it was apparent he meant to put up a good fight first.
    Hüi delivered a thrust in good earnest and drove Lan back. The boy had been well taught, and cleverly managed to parry or evade the majority of the blows, but Hüi was simply too strong for him. At one point Lan stumbled over a footstool and overturned it, distracted by Hüi’s sword passing through the silk of his sleeve without harming him, but he managed to find his balance again.
    Hüi drove him steadily back until Lan was fighting for his life, his back pressed up against the wall. With a trick double parry, Hüi flicked the sword from the boy’s hand and pressed his body against Lan’s, pinning him to the wall, holding the point of his sword to his chin. “I think I won this fight, don’t you?”
    Lan smiled valiantly. “My life is forfeit to your superior skill, my Lord. You have beaten me fair and square. Thank you for giving me a chance to earn my freedom.”
    Hüi strained forward, relishing the firmness of the slight body trapped beneath his, becoming aware that he was rubbing his manhood against another answering hardness. “I wanted to test my sword against yours,” he muttered.
    “I would have your sword pressed against mine,” Lan answered huskily, his breath coming faster, staring up into Hüi’s eyes. “I have dreamed of—” He broke off and turned his head away, saying harshly, “If you must kill me, I beg of you, do it quickly.”
    Hüi glanced at the sword in his hand, bemused as to why he was holding it. “I do not wish to kill you.” The sword fell to the carpet with a thud.
    Lan was gasping for air, Hüi was pressing so hard against him. “What do you wish to do, my Lord?”
    “I wish to take what is mine!” Hüi shouted hoarsely. He swept the slender boy off his feet and carried him to the bed, tossing him upon it.
    Lan lay there quiescent, awaiting whatever Hüi would choose to do to him next. His breath quickened while both fear and desire showed in his eyes as Hüi retrieved his sword and stood over him, looking down at the exquisite boy trembling on the bed.
    Lan flinched but didn’t pull away as Hüi slid the flat of the sword under the sash of his hanfu. With a sudden movement, Hüi ripped the sword upward, slashing through the silk. The edges of the hanfu slid away with a whisper, exposing the traditional silk corselet, embroidered with scarlet thread upon jade