The Last Concubine

Wife,” Ci’an snapped. She approached the bed and raised her short sword. “I shall enjoy this. Let Hüi Wei suffer when he loses your precious little cunt. Your death is a paltry price for that satisfaction.”
    “Ning!” Lan’xiu cried out. “My sword!”
    Ci’an raised her own sword above her head and brought it down, swinging wildly.
    While Lan’xiu sprang from the bed and raised her right arm to block the blow, knowing the blade would bite deep into her flesh, Ning raced into his room where the weapons were hidden.
    Ning ran back clutching two swords and tossed one to Lan’xiu, who caught it in her left hand. She whirled to face Ci’an, her plait flying, her face set in a fierce smile. “And now we fight, Ci’an.”
    “To the death!” Ci’an snarled. She raised her sword and charged in again.
     
     
    N ING yanked the doctor back against the wall, holding his sword against the man’s throat. He dragged him out of the room, shrieking at the top of his lungs, “Jia! Jia, you useless sow! Jia, come to me!”
    He wanted nothing more than to slay Ci’an and place her lifeless body at Lan’xiu’s feet as an offering, but he knew the princess would never forgive him if he did not allow her to fight. He would have to leave it to her to defend herself.
    The noises within the room did nothing to comfort him, but at least the doctor seemed shocked into compliance, for he did not struggle.
    When Jia at last appeared in the hall downstairs, Ning flung a few orders and choice words at her and edged back into the room, dragging the doctor with him.
    Lan’xiu’s sleeve was crimson with blood, but her intense eyes glowed with the joy of battle and the concentration Ning had taught her. He knew that she was aware that he was there, but she never made the mistake of taking her gaze off Ci’an.
    It was clear that Ci’an was buoyed along by hatred and not training, for her form was bad and she lacked discipline. She hacked away wildly with her short sword, as if sensing weakness within the princess, relying on brute strength rather than finesse.
    However, Lan’xiu fought her off cleverly, using techniques that Ci’an did not have the knowledge to recognize or combat. Aware that her recent illness and the blood dripping from the wound in her arm would curtail her endurance, Lan did not attack. She would first allow Ci’an to commit to one of her wild swings and then parry it, letting the blade slip harmlessly over her own. She ducked past Ci’an and whirled to face her again.
    “I hate you!” Ci’an said through clenched teeth. She lunged, aiming for the wounded arm.
    “I rather gathered you did.” Lan’xiu slid away from the attack again, and Ci’an staggered forward off balance when her sword connected only with empty air. Lan’xiu raised her longer blade and sliced Ci’an’s cheek and earlobe before she danced away out of reach.
    “You bitch! You scarred me!” Ci’an dropped her sword and raised her hand to her face, staring at the blood in disbelief.
    “That is not the only scar you will carry as a keepsake to remember me by,” Lan’xiu said contemptuously. She kicked Ci’an’s sword closer. “Pick it up! You promised to kill me, remember?”
    Ci’an dove for the sword and circled Lan’xiu, a little more cautiously now, looking for an easy opening, still without any understanding of her own difficulty in battling a well-trained, left-handed swordswoman.
    Ning circled his arm about the doctor’s throat, keeping his body pressed against his own, ready to strangle him if he felt the doctor move. It was thrilling to witness Lan’xiu in action in her first real fight, and he didn’t want to miss anything, even though he feared for her. If the doctor turned rabbit and scampered off, he would be forced to catch him, so Ning maintained a firm, choking grip on him.
     
     
    L AN ’ XIU could feel her breath coming more quickly but, despite that, kept a contemptuous smile upon her lips, knowing it would irritate Ci’an into making a mistake. It was her only advantage now, when she was weak from being ill. The dull throb in her arm made her aware that she was still losing blood. She would have to take control and end this fight, for she could not afford a long one.
    Ci’an shrieked in frustration and raised her sword, charging at Lan’xiu. “You will have a scar like mine to remind him of me when he looks at your dead body!”
    Lan’xiu darted away from Ci’an’s blade and