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from his, her gaze steady. ‘You grow bold,
slave. I do as I will. And when the Imperial troops attack once more you will
be glad these weaklings have the Triad beside them to make real war. The
Emperor’s men take delight in delivering prisoners to the death of a thousand
slices.’ He then forced her down on the mattress and took her, careless of his
watching men.
    Tethered like one of the oxen that pulled the
carts, Pearl lay at night on the cold earth and thought about the future. Others
had said they were definitely headed for Nanking to the east, the intended new
capital where Hung H’siu-ch’uan would make himself Heavenly Emperor with the
help of this army of thousands. Pearl knew they would succeed. Evidence of
their cruel ruthlessness abounded, although she doubted that the Imperial
troops could be worse. The forthcoming battle would be a bloody event which
could present an opportunity for escape.
    Eventually scouts warned of the enemy’s approach
and the rebel army grouped, ready for attack. Watching her captor sharpen his
blade and organise his followers, Pearl appreciated how much these men enjoyed
the prospect of a fight. She heard them rally one another, wagering on the
number of heads they would cause to roll, the promise of spoil. There was no
mention of possible death or mutilation, no sign of fear. Nor did they discuss
the cause they supposedly fought for. The Triads did battle for themselves, for
excitement and freedom from the humdrum life of a peasant. They were young
feral animals, and she despised them.
    Sent to the rear with the women, children and
baggage, Pearl made her preparations. First she retrieved the small, sharp
blade concealed in the lining of her padded jacket for such a moment. Her
jacket was a treasure house, a survival kit, with even a pocket holding needle
and thread to restitch the lining. With the blade she slit her bonds then
climbed up into the oxcart, crouching down out of sight of the milling women
and children aroused to a ferment over the imminent attack.
    Pearl went first to the opium chest, taking from
it a sticky pellet of raw drug. From her secret cache in the jacket she took a
silk bag, emptying into her hand a pinch of herb-like substance which she
rolled into the opium. She did this with several more balls before replacing
them and closing the chest. Then she searched for her mother’s earrings,
finding them tied in a bag with other valuables stolen from bodies still warm
and dripping their life-blood. There was dried blood on the golden hoops. Pearl
held them in her shaking hand, taking a moment to regain control. She also
picked out the biggest, blackest pearl she had ever seen, threaded on a piece
of silk.
    ‘What are you doing there, boy?’
    Pearl jumped as if touched with red hot iron. Still
crouched amongst the boxes she turned to see a woman silhouetted against the
glaring sky. In the distance she heard the roar of the sea. But the sea lay
many hundreds of li to the east, and what she heard was the voice of war.
    The woman leaned forward, peering in. ‘Thief!’ she
screeched. ‘You rob your lord. Thief! Thief!’
    Pearl sprang, her outstretched leg a javelin
that hit the woman under the chin, shutting her mouth effectively and knocking
her backwards in a heap. Jumping down from the cart, Pearl ran, dodging and
weaving amongst the startled crowd. Some tried to stop her only to find she was
not where she’d been a split second before. A boy, older than the rest, grabbed
at her arm. She sliced his knuckles with the knife and he let her go with a
howl. She raced on.
    Now there was a mob on her trail, running and
baying like wolves, infected by the battle excitement, hardly knowing who they
chased or why, driven only by the mob’s bloodlust. Pearl slipped under a cart
and crouched there, panting, easing the fire in her lungs. Dozens of
blue-trousered legs ran past. She waited for a long time before slipping out
the other side to mingle with a quieter group