A Tangled Web

As Vera was reading the newspaper article, Xui-Li was alive and well and sitting in the captain’s cabin of her junk, the Ming-Xing.

After General Chang’s mockery of a trial, she had been taken down to the cellars and locked in a cell next to Vera’s. Whereas Vera had despaired, Xui-Li had been angry, angry with General Chang, angry with Mei-Xing but above all angry with herself. She really ought to have seen this coming, to have taken steps, to have secured her position. However, she had been distracted by this round-eye girl who, somehow, had got under her skin and clouded her judgment. It was not that she blamed Jun-Nui, far from it, she blamed herself, not that it did any good. She had no doubt General Chang would carry out his threat and that she would be shot in the morning. She paced her cell, searching in vain for a loophole, anything that might give her back the edge.

And then, just as dawn was beginning to rise, she heard the noise of a key in the lock and the door was pushed open.

“Quick, quick, Madam Hong, come with me. Quick, before they return.” A woman whose clothes marked her out as one of the kitchen staff was standing at the door urgently looking back and forth. For a moment Xui-Li hesitated; was this a trap, was she to be discovered escaping and thus have her ‘guilt’ doubly proven? However, trap or not, she had little to lose. She went to the door and followed the woman out. Quickly they threaded their way through the rabbit warren of passages that led under the compound until they were in the kitchen areas.

“We’ve got to get you out of here. As soon as the guards find you missing they’ll start a search,” the woman said. “You’re far too conspicuous in those clothes. There’s a hamper of old rags in the boiler room. Come with me and we’ll see what we can find.”

“Why are you doing this?” Xui-Li asked, as she followed the woman into a small room off  the kitchen.

“Because that son of a whore Chang will kill you otherwise,” the woman replied as if talking to a dim-witted child.

“But….” Xui-Li started.

“Save your breath for getting changed,” the woman ordered. “If they catch you dressed like that we’re all in trouble.” She grabbed some old clothes from a hamper in the corner, sorting out some that might be wearable. Even those had seen better days, and many were in need of a good wash but the woman’s urgency was getting through to Xui-Li and she did as she was told. She did baulk when the woman took her discarded robe and bundled it up only to throw it into the boiler but the woman gave her a look that stopped her saying anything. Indeed, she insisted that all of Xui-Li’s clothes went the same way. Then it was time to sort out something suitable from the pile she had sorted, starting with the basics.

“My daughter, Lin-Lin, she was serving in the great hall this evening and heard everything,” the woman continued as she held up a tunic with a pattern of vivid food stains down the front.

“Lin-Lin?” Xui-Li queried. “Pretty little girl with a mole on her right buttock?”

“That’s the one,” Lin-Lin’s mother confirmed. “But how do you know about the mole?”

“Oh, I just saw it one day when I was… when I was checking out the staff changing facilities.” Xui-Li bluffed. She wasn’t going to admit to Lin-Lin’s mother the exact details of how she knew. She did remember Lin-Lin, and her mole, with much fondness.

“Anyway, Lin-Lin, after you’ve been arrested, she comes down to the kitchens and tells us cooks what’s going on and I’ll tell you we’re not going to stand for it. Here, that strap goes round there,” the woman said as she helped Xui-Li into the strange clothes. “There’s not much we could have done last night, but this morning, we took the guards an early breakfast so as to keep them busy whilst we got you out and away but they won’t be long and you do need to be gone before they return.”

“But how did you get the keys? Surely they’ll suspect you.”

“Those who do the cleaning need the keys to everywhere, don’t we,” Lin-Lin’s mother laughed, “and no one suspects the kitchen staff. Why, they hardly notice we’re here at all unless their meal is late. Now get a move on.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help,” Xui-Li said.

“We may just be the kitchen staff to some of the officers but we know what's right and what's wrong and what they did to you was plain wicked. You’re the only decent one amongst the lot of them, everyone knows that. Anyway, my Lin-Lin said you were really good to her, helped her when she first started here, helped her settle in and for that I’m grateful. Now hurry up, they’ll be here in a moment.”

Indeed, they had barely finished getting Xui-Li dressed before there was the sound of shouting from the corridors.

“Quick! There’s no time to waste. Take this bucket! Back to the kitchen! Start scrubbing and, for heaven’s sake cover your head. Your hair’s a dead giveaway; it’s far too well cut for you to be one of us.” The woman grabbed Xui-Li by the arm and thrust a bucket of soapy water into her hands. Then she half led, half dragged her back to the kitchen and pushed her to the floor. Xui-Li wrapped a piece of cloth over her head as a makeshift headscarf and set to scrubbing away. She had barely got into place when one of the guards rushed in.

“Has anyone come through here?” he asked, panic in his voice.

“No, no one,” Lin-Lin’s mother replied. “It’s just us cooks getting ready for breakfast.”

“She’s gone… The prisoner… The cell is empty… She must have… She can’t just disappear! She must have come this way,” he said urgently.

“No, no one has come through all morning, isn’t that right girls?” There was a murmur of assent from the rest of the kitchen staff.

“Oh, no! There will be hell to pay if she’s not found!” the guard wailed before dashing off to continue his search.

“OK, he’s gone. Now we haven’t got much time. Give it a minute or two and he’ll be back with a lot more guards and his sergeant won’t be fobbed off as easily as that one.” She looked around the kitchen. “I know…” she started.

Xui-Li followed her gaze and her heart sank when she realised what was about to happen. However she was in desperate straits, and the pig bins did need emptying, so, when Lin-Lin's mother told her brusquely to ‘come along’, she reluctantly got up off the floor and went over. The pig bins were large wheeled dumpsters   full of last night’s food waste ready for disposal. Although it would be tight, there was going to be just enough room for her to squeeze inside and sink below the congealing garbage. Lin-Lin’s mother finished off the job with a layer of cabbage leaves before closing the lid and then she and one of the other women started pushing the dumpster towards the yard.

“Hello ladies,” Xui-Li heard a voice approaching. “A bit early for feeding the pigs, isn't it?”

“Hello Ju-Long. We're all at sixes and sevens this morning and this lot is stinking up the kitchens so we thought we'd get it out of the way. The pigs won't mind an early breakfast.”

“There’s some sort of panic happening, they say one of the prisoners has escaped. I'm supposed to look inside,” Ju-Long said half heartedly as he opened the lid. “Ugh! What a stench.” He recoiled in disgust and the lid slammed down again. “Still, I guess the pigs like it.”

Xui-Li hardly dare breathe; the slightest covering of cabbage leaves was all that there had been between her and disaster. Ju-Long seemed one of the chatty types and spent several minutes talking to the two cooks before finally letting them go. Then they were through the gate and it was just a short trundle to the other side of the yard.

“We’re going to tip you out here,” Lin-Lin’s mother said softly after she had lifted the lid. “Everyone is looking the other way. There’s a ditch over to your left, which leads to some woods just across the fields. See if you can find somewhere to hide. We’ll come and find you when the fuss has died down. Good luck.”

And with that the skip was tipped over and the food waste, along with Xui-Li, was poured out into the pigs’ trough. Under cover of the squealing pigs, she made it into the ditch and, keeping her head down as she crawled through the mud and filth, she worked her way along the ditch until she found herself in the woods. She crawled out of the ditch and looked around until she found a pile of brushwood, which made the perfect hiding place as long as they weren’t searching with dogs. Xui-Li rearranged the fallen branches so she could hide underneath and still be able to see out without being seen. Scraping off as much of the mud and filth as she could, she settled down to wait. After all it could be hours before the cooks came and got her. As the mud dried on her skin she even started to doze a bit but, maybe half an hour later, she suddenly realised she wasn’t alone. Some people, it might be several people, were clumsily making their way through the woods towards where she was hidden. She lay as still as possible; surely they could not be searching the woods for her already? Whoever it was got closer and then, right before her eyes she saw an ankle, an ankle dressed in khaki.

“Right lads, here will do. Keep down and keep away from the edge of the wood or you’ll be spotted,” she heard a British voice say. “That’s the target, that gateway over there. Set up the mortar here next to that pile of brushwood and, for Pete’s sake, keep it quiet.”

“Right you are, Sarge,” came the reply. Then the sounds she’d heard a lifetime ago, all around her now  the ‘clink’ and ‘chunk’ of baseplate, tripod and tube, the sounds of soldiers setting up a three-inch mortar.

“Gor blimey, something’s a bit whiffy,” one of the soldiers commented. “Has Brigsy dropped his guts again?”

“You’ll be whiffy if we’re not ready when the command is given. That Major Strictland is a right so and so. He put Jonesey on a charge the other day for next to nothing.”

In the hustle and bustle of setting up the mortar no one had either the time or inclination to search the woods and the soldiers went about their business unaware of Xui-Li’s presence. And then, suddenly, from throughout the woods there was the sound of whistles being blown.

“That’s it lads, that’s the signal. Commence firing.”

From maybe a metre away from where she was hiding Xui-Li heard the deafening thump of a mortar and, as she peered out from under the brushwood, she saw the gateway to the compound explode as the shell hit. For some five furious minutes it was chaos as mortar fire from several points in the woods rained down on the walls of the compound, which disappeared behind a pall of smoke. Then more whistles were blown and the mortar fire stopped. As the morning breeze wafted away the smoke, revealing the battered remains of the walls, several platoons of soldiers emerged from the woods and advanced across the field in front of her towards the compound. There was some token resistance from what remained of the guards, but the element of surprise coupled with the early hour meant that the rebels had been, quite literally, caught napping. They were soon overwhelmed. It wasn’t long before the order came to the section next Xui-Li to pack up the mortar and join up with the rest of the troops. The operation was declared successful and, in high spirits, the soldiers left, still blissfully unaware that Xui-Li had been right next to them all along.

From her hiding place in the woods, Xui-Li was too far away to make out particulars, but even so it was quite clear what was going on. The shattered buildings were being searched and all the occupants were being rounded up and those that could still stand upright were marched off in columns. After the shelling there were inevitably some casualties and, to be fair, the wounded were generally being tended to before also taken away, this time on ox carts. Even from her distant perspective, Xui-Li could make out the distinctive form of General Chang as he was being arrested. He, and some of the others, were separated from the others and, with their hands handcuffed behind them, taken away in cars. Xui-Li knew that this was a massive blow to the rebellion. Most of their high command had been present and, although she had mixed feelings about some of them, nevertheless she knew the movement had just been decapitated.

Although she was exhausted and hungry, she didn’t dare move as long as there were troops around and it was near dark before the last ones left. Their final act before departing was to set fire to the remaining buildings and, as the night set in, Xui-Li watched the compound burn. She was still watching when exhaustion finally set in, her eyelids drooped as she fell fast asleep.

The next morning was cool and brisk. Xui-Li rolled over, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable. Then the smell of wood-smoke brought it all back to her and she opened her eyes and peered out at the still smouldering remains of the compound. Driven by hunger, she extracted herself from the brushwood and carefully made her way over to the smoking ruins. The place was deserted and it seemed like everything had been either burnt or looted, but in the remains of the kitchens she managed to find some half crushed scraps of food, which she devoured ravenously. This, along with some brackish water, alleviated the worst of her hunger and, sitting on a pile of rubble, she evaluated her options.

Firstly she had to make it back to the city; out in the countryside she was all alone. In the city she could find food, shelter and possible allies. As for how to get there, she had no choice, she was going to have to walk. In the meanwhile her disguise as a peasant woman was now, if anything, almost too good. Before too long she would need to find a river and wash of the worst of the dirt, but the filthy rags would at least allow her to pass unnoticed; she was well aware of how the underclass was invisible to those in authority. Girding her rags around her and wishing she had some shoes, she set off down the road.

It took the rest of the day before she reached the city and as she passed through one of the villages on the way she had to endure a heavy beating from a local constable who saw it as his duty to throw her out of town. As she made her way through the outskirts, her first thought was to head for the Pussy Cat Club, but when she got there she found it boarded up; evidently it had been raided at the same time as the compound. With a shudder she realised the extent of the raid; none of her usual haunts would be safe. There was nowhere she could go. Indeed, now that she had got to the city, she would have to leave again as soon as possible. Wondering who or what was left of the movement, she carried on down to the docks trying to remember the Ming-Xing’s schedule. As luck would have it, there she was riding at anchor out in the bay, maybe two hundred metres out from the jetty. She couldn’t, of course, afford a boat, so she waited until it was completely dark before finding a quiet spot where she could slip into the water and shed as many clothes as she dared before striking out for the ship. Her slow steady swimming style made few ripples and nobody noticed but, in her bone-weary state, the two hundred metres seemed forever, and it took an immense effort of will to keep going. She was almost there when she was spotted.

“You there, in the water, come any closer and I’ll shoot!” the boatswain’s voice rang out.

“It’s me, don’t shoot.” Xui-Li stopped swimming and raised her arm to wave. “Help me up, please, help me up.”

The boatswain fetched and held out a lantern, which threw some light on where Xui-Li was treading water.

“Madam Hong! What on earth!” The boatswain was quick witted enough to keep her voice down. Seeing Xui-Li swimming in the water could not be good news. “Xiang, fetch the rope ladder at once. Quickly now!” she called out behind her. Then, without further ado, she took off her tunic and dove into the water, surfacing next to Xui-Li. Together they made their way over to the side of the ship where Xiang was lowering a rope ladder.

Even with the boatswain and Xiang helping it was an effort to climb up the steep sides of the ship and, when she finally made it to the deck, she collapsed in a sodden heap.

“Make sail, make sail now!” Xui-Li commanded. “Quickly, I want to be well away before dawn.”

It says much about the crew of the Ming-Xing that, as the boatswain roused them, they didn’t stand around asking questions, rather they set to and within an hour the Ming-Xing was heading out to sea, just another junk plying its trade up and down the coast. There were clothes and food aboard and the swim had washed off the worst of the dirt, so Xui-Li was beginning to feel human again. They set a course to take them about five kilometres from the city and maybe one kilometre from the shore where, on Xui-Li’s order, they hove to. With the ship riding gently on the swell she called the crew together.

“We’ve been betrayed,” Xui-Li announced. “The movement and everything connected to it is in danger. Most of our leaders have been captured and we must assume they will talk. We have to assume as well that the British will come looking for us. They may not know about the Ming-Xing yet but we’ll have to assume they will soon.”

“By looking for us you mean looking for you,” Xiang said. “You’re the one they’re after, isn’t that so?”

“They may be looking for me but they’ll arrest anyone found with me and that’s why I want you to slip the Ming-Xing into a quiet cove and drop me off. Boatswain, you know this coast better than anybody; where would you suggest?”

“Drop you off, Ma’am? It’s not my place to question orders but if you think the crew of the Ming-Xing are going to abandon you now, well, that’s not the way we do things around here,” the boatswain stated flatly. “Anyway, you won’t last a minute if we drop you off; on foot or on a horse you’ll be picked up at the first road block; here on the Ming-Xing we can have you in and out of any harbour you want before anyone’s the wiser. As for knowing about the Ming-Xing, since when could any round-eye tell one junk from another?”

“Look, Ladies…” Xui-Li started.

“Don’t you ‘Lady’ me!” Xiang said angrily. “We’re no ladies; we’re the crew of the Ming-Xing, your crew. If there’s fighting to be done then we’re the girls to do it and we’re not going to abandon you just because those landlubbers have let you down. We’d follow you in to hell if only you’d let us.”

“That will do, that will do,” the boatswain cut across. “There’ll be no subordination on the Ming-Xing and that’s an order!”

Xiang stood obviously fuming but the boatswain was not to be trifled with, and she held her voice. Xui-Li looked around the crew. Xiang wasn’t the only one with a defiant look on her face. If she were going to rebuild, then this was as good a place to start as any for she surely wouldn’t find any crew more loyal or more useful in a tight spot. Indeed, the boatswain was right, as long as she kept out of sight in port she could use the Ming-Xing to travel up and down the coast and Major Strictland would never find her. First of all, however, she needed funds and she needed news and she knew just where she could find both of those.

“Thank you, thank you all of you,” she said simply. “Now, boatswain, would you be so kind as to set a course for Li-Nau. There’s a decent wind; we should be able to reach there before dawn.”

“As you wish, Ma’am.” The boatswain turned to the rest of the crew. “Come along now, you heard what the captain said. Let’s get these sails set.” And, as she relaxed in her cabin as the Ming-Xing made her way through the waves, Xui-Li felt for the first time since General Chang’s coup as if she was moving forward again.

Xui-Li had always been careful to keep the two sides of her life separate, and her businesses were hidden behind numerous front companies so that, when they got to Li-Nau, she could assume one of her many identities, call in at a local office and in no time she had plenty of funds to hand. Rebuilding the rebel movement was going to be another matter. For a start she had no idea how widespread the news of her fall from grace would have spread. She couldn’t count on anyone’s loyalty outside of the crew. She would have to go carefully, rebuild step by step until she knew how the land lay.

Starting in Li-Nau, she slowly, tentatively, sought out her contacts and through them got the news. Then, using the Ming-Xing, she worked her way up and down the coast, meeting up with the tattered remnants of the rebellion. It took a while to put a full picture together and, as she did, the outlook was bleak. She was finding time and time again that the cadres had all but disbanded; when the leaders had failed to return from the urgent meeting and news had trickled back about a disastrous raid, the members had simply slipped back into their day-to-day lives. However, with a few suitable promotions and some inspirational speeches at clandestine meetings, she was slowly able to start bringing it all back together again.

What was also becoming clear was that those captured in the raid on the compound were still being held, along with the platoon captured at Nan-Tung, in a large prison camp in the south of the country. With her troops and organisation in disarray, there was little that Xui-Li could do to mount a rescue, but she knew that her conscience would not rest easy until she done all that she could. Apart from the boost to morale that a rescue effort would give to the movement, there were people in there to whom she owed her freedom. However, good intentions were one thing, actions were another; she was endlessly getting bogged down by the sheer volume of work and badly needed an assistant, someone she could rely on. She mentioned this in passing to the boatswain and a couple of days later there was a knock on her cabin door. She glanced through the spy hole in the door and saw a young woman waiting outside standing in front of the local organiser, so she opened up and let them in.

“I’ve been told you needed an assistant, Ma’am, and this young lady comes with the very best recommendations,” the local organiser said. “She’s my sister’s oldest, as bright as a button and completely loyal to the cause.”

“Does she know what she’s getting into; who I am and what I do?” Xui-Li asked before turning to the girl. “Well, do you?”

“Do you mean fighting for my country, ridding us of the British oppression?” the girl said defiantly.

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” Xui-Li responded. “You’ll be putting yourself in danger. Talking about it is one thing.When the bullets start flying it’s completely different. Do you really think you could fight, really, when it comes down to it?”

“And why shouldn’t I? You’re just like all the rest,” the girl said angrily. “Just because I’m a girl you think I belong at home. I’m tough, really tough, I’m just as tough as any boy.”

“Yin! Be quiet!” The local organiser cut across. “Excuse her, Madam Hong, she doesn’t know our ways.”

“No, indeed.” Xui-Li looked at Yin who was still fuming slightly. “So you think we don’t give girls an even chance here, do you?”

“I’m sorry Ma’am,” Yin replied. “But….”

“Never mind your ‘buts’,” Xui-Li said. “Now come and meet the crew and then we’ll have a talk, see if you still want to work for me.”

The local organiser made her excuses and left them, so they went below and Xui-Li handed Yin over to the boatswain to be shown around and introduced to the rest of the crew. It soon became clear to Yin just how much she’d got off on the wrong foot and when they returned to Xui-Li’s cabin she was quite contrite. She knocked on the door and entered. She found Xui-Li at her desk writing.

“One million pardons, Ma’am,” she said, her head bowed. “I spoke intemperately about that which I knew nothing. Please forgive me.”

“So you no longer think I’d prefer one of the boys,” Xui-Li joked. “Talking of boys, are you leaving some young man pining after you?”

“No, Ma’am. I’ve… I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Yin replied. “I’m just not interested.”

“Neither have I, so at least we have that in common. Now tell me more about yourself.”

As the two chatted Xui-Li saw more and more that, despite her youthful exuberance, Yin was exactly what she wanted and, what’s more, they got on well together. It turned out that Yin’s father had been shot by the British in a skirmish some years back so, for Yin, the struggle was very personal.

“So, are you sure this is what you want?” she asked finally. “If you join up with us it’s a one way journey. There’s no going back.”

“Yes. Yes, please, Ma’am,” Yin replied enthusiastically. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. Now we sail tonight; can you be ready in time?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I just need some time to get some things from home, and to say goodbye to my mother.”

“And then we must fix you up with somewhere to sleep. There’s room below decks with the crew but I like to have you near me at all times. Maybe we can fit you up with a cot in here.”

“Here, in your cabin? It would be an honour, Ma’am,” Yin said enthusiastically.

“Well, you had best get off then. Be back here before sundown; that’s when we sail.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.” And with that Yin scuttled off.

After she had gone Xui-Li thought about her new assistant. She was certainly pretty and not interested in boys. It wouldn’t do to make too many assumptions but maybe a separate cot wouldn’t be needed for too long. She glanced over at the bed and thought about the last person to share it with her. Again she wondered what had happened to Jun-Nui; she hadn’t spotted her when the compound was raided but, whatever the outcome, she was long gone now. So much misunderstanding lay between them and Xui-Li couldn’t help but regret that she would never get the chance to sort things out.

But those weren’t the only regrets. Xui-Li had always admitted to having a roving eye, indeed, her eye was currently roving towards Yin, but there had been something about Jun-Nui that had marked her out as special and there was a yearning in Xui-Li’s heart as much as her loins. With a sigh she pushed these thoughts to one side; what was done was done and regrets would get her nowhere. She reached for her charts and went back to her plans.

Yin proved to be the perfect assistant; bright and willing, she only had to be shown anything once and was soon able to take a significant portion of Xui-Li’s load. Furthermore, in the intimacy of the shared cabin, it wasn’t long before Xui-Li came into the cabin to find Yin drying herself off after a dip overboard.

“You look pretty enough to eat,” Xui-Li said.

“You can if you want,” Yin replied. “Well, I don’t mean…” She blushed. “Please, Ma’am, I’ve been talking to the rest of the crew and they told me what you like.”

“And what exactly did they tell you?” Xui-Li enquired gently.

“That you… That you….” Yin let the towel drop to the ground and stood naked before Xui-Li. “Please, Ma’am, please let me be your lover.”

Some weeks later Yin and Xui-Li were lying in bed together, relaxing having enjoyed each other’s bodies. Yin had proven to be as quick a learner in bed as she was out of it and, whilst they were always professional outside of the captain's cabin, in private their relationship was deepening daily.

“Who's Jun-Nui?” Yin asked.

“She's... she was... just a girl I knew,” Xui-Li replied.

“And were you fond of her?”

“A little... Enough, you ask too many questions. Anyway, who told you about Jun-Nui?”

“You did.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“Well, maybe not exactly but....”

“But what, you little minx?”

“You called out her name in your sleep.”

There was a pause while Xui-Li digested this.

“She was rather special but she's gone, she's in the past, she's dead and... well... even if she's not, I'll never see her again,” Xui-Li admitted. “Does it make you jealous that I call out her name?”

“A little but that's just because I want you all to myself,” Yin replied.

“And that's what you've got.” Xui-Li rolled over and held Yin tight. “You're my special love now.”

Back at the brothel, Vera was starting to become part of the furniture. Even Lian was giving her a grudging respect. She had quite a list of regulars, customers who had, at first, been attracted by her European looks but who came back again and again because they valued the way she treated them. Whilst she would never, ever, get to enjoy the abuse her body was put through, or the clumsy mauling that passed for love play from some of her customers, she was an intelligent and imaginative woman who appreciated that the more she played along to her clients' fantasies, the more they paid in tips. It wasn't that she saw any of the money, but getting tips meant that she  kept in Lian's good books which, in turn, meant that her life was easier.

Curiously, as she got to know her regulars, their trysts became less about sex and more about loneliness. All too often she would end up listening to a litany of complaints about how their wives were cold and distant, how the sweet girls that they had married had turned into nags and shrews, how they were no longer agreeable, in bed of out. Vera would sympathise with each one, and express surprise that any woman could be cold to such a virile man. Another one of her customers wanted little more than to complain about the problems he was having with his rebellious teenage daughters. After their perfunctory sex was over, they would lie in bed together and, as Vera cuddled up to him, he would complain mournfully "why can't they be good girls, like you?" Vera, ducking the irony that he was calling a prostitute a 'good girl',  would be all kindness and sympathy, all the while storing up the stories so as to recycle them as her own misdemeanours the next time that 'daddy smack bottom' came visiting.

But, for all that she was getting used to her ordeal, she could never stop her yearning for freedom, nor would she wish to. Her heart ached just to see the sky again, to feel the wind on her face, to tear down the walls that surrounded her, to rip the prison bars from the windows, to make her own decisions about what she did and when she did it and, more importantly, who she did it with. As yet another drunken lout leered at her, seeing not a person but an object to be used, she dreamed of striking out, of striking back, of revenge. Instead she hid away inside herself, pinned a smile on her face and played along, outwardly pretending that these buffoons were the greatest lovers ever and she adored every moment of their attentions.

There were two things that kept her spirits up throughout all this. Firstly, there was her growing friendship with the other girls. In any enclosed society there are inevitably cliques and in-groups but, as time went by, Vera became less and less of an outsider. She ended up as just one of the girls, as much part of the fabric of the place as any other. Even Lian stopped picking on her. As she got to know the other girls there were two with whom she became especially close. Her 'black and white' show with Sangeeta was always popular and, to prevent it getting stale, for them as much as for their audience, they worked hard to develop it. When the brothel was closed to customers they would pass the time by commandeering the stage and working out their moves. What had started as almost straightforward sexual congress was developing into a choreographed dance routine, a series of stylised mutual caresses before they moved on to the actual penetration. It still held to the overarching theme of Sangeeta dominating Vera and, at Lian's suggestion, Sangeeta now used a riding crop as a prop, but the build-up was longer, it was more sensual, more sensuous. To make it look real, it had to feel real, and it is all but impossible to be that physically close on such a regular basis without forming an emotional bond as well so the two became firm friends. But, even then, it was Jia-Li who remained, as she had been from that very first day, her closest confidante. They found they had much in common and, even when Vera grew less dependent on Jia-Li for guidance, they still spent what spare time they had in each other's company. Like many of the girls they shared a bed and, as they lay together after the night's work was over, their shared caresses were more about mutual support, about healing each other from the carnal appetites of their customers.

But friendship alone, however important, was not sufficient to give Vera something to live for. For all the confidences that Vera shared with Jai-Li, there was one big secret that was hers and hers alone. This was the second thing that kept her alive; her plan, her plan to escape. She knew it wouldn't be easy, she knew it wouldn't be soon but, above all else, this was the thing that kept a flicker of hope burning in her heart. Slowly, so slowly, the pieces were coming together. Possibly the most important part had been the discovery of a loose floorboard just under the bed that she shared with Jia-Li. Now she had a place to hide her growing collection of treasures; items that she felt she might need if and when her moment came. The main, the crucial treasure, was some hair dye.  Her blonde tresses were growing out again and this meant that she stood out like a beacon amongst her raven-haired colleagues. One day she found out that some of the girls would use one of cookie's preparations to make their hair more lustrous. When she asked if she could have some, she was forbidden as it turned out it was effectively jet black hair dye. Little did the cook know how this discovery made Vera's heart leap. Bit by bit, Vera, under the guise of helping the others, had secreted small amounts away until she had enough to turn her hair just as dark as theirs. Another find was that the polish that was used on the furniture was made from walnut oil and when this oil came in contact with her fair skin it dyed it brown. This colour wouldn't wash off and took some time to fade. This discovery had been accidental and Lian had been furious when Vera had reported for work with the tips of her fingers badly stained, but Vera had treasured this knowledge and some of this oil became an important part of her stash. A combination of the oil staining her skin and the dye colouring her hair and she might, just, pass as Chinese. She had even managed to put together a small sum in cash, coins that had dropped from her customers' pockets and, by carefully hoarding this away, it had started to mount up. Her plan was nearly ready. All she needed was the right occasion.

And then, one evening, the moment came. The brothel had been invaded, there was no other word to describe it, by a platoon of new recruits from the rebel army. As their sergeant had explained to Lian, they had only just joined up and had yet to even start their training. This was to be their last night in civilisation for quite a while and he asked, nay demanded, that, before they headed into the hills, they be shown a good time. He seemed to feel that the brothel's services should be provided free as a contribution to 'the cause' but Lian vehemently disagreed. After some considerable negotiation, it was agreed that the girls would give their services free and, in return, the brothel would charge full price for any food and drinks. Of course, should any of the recruits feel so enamoured of the girls that he wished to make a small donation, then that would gratefully received. As the profit on the drinks was more than the profit on the girls Lian reluctantly agreed. However she gave firm orders to the girls that they should ensure that each of their customers should not be bedded until they had made their 'voluntary' contributions.

As they piled into the brothel the lads reminded Vera of the rebel soldiers she had seen in the stockade. They were just as young, just as innocent.  At barely eighteen they knew nothing of life and were full of false bravado. More importantly, from Vera's point of view, as they had only just been recruited, they hardly knew each other. This was her chance. She homed in on one of the recruits who was drinking wine like there was no tomorrow and was also, importantly, roughly her size. She used all the tricks and charms that came with her trade to ply him with more wine and persuade him that what he really wanted to do was to take her to one of the rooms. When she reminded him that the sex was free he didn't need much more persuading. However, he was nearly too drunk to walk and Vera had to help him to his feet.

Lian was far too busy making sure that the wine was flowing and that they were raking in as muchas possible for her to do other than quickly take the requisite 'voluntary' payment from the recruit before Vera led him down the hallway towards the private rooms. It was a busy night and she had to try quite a few before she found one that was free. She directed him inside and laid him on the bed. The next step in her plan was one she was not looking forward to; he had to be unconscious and she was expecting to have to use force to knock him out but, to her relief, almost as soon as he lay on the bed he rolled over, groaned a couple of times, and passed out in a drunken stupor. Vera poked him a couple of times but he was dead to the world. Now was her chance; there was no time to lose.

The first thing to do was to obscure the observation grill. Under normal circumstances doing this would have been highly suspicious but Vera reckoned that, with all that was going on, no one would be checking up on them and, were they to do so and find the grill covered, they would be too busy to investigate. She took a screen, which was normally used to conceal the washstand, and placed it in front of the grill so that the view was blocked.

The next step was to strip the recruit naked and lay out his clothes ready. It was a bit of a struggle as he was a dead weight and, if anything, fought her rather than helped but it wasn't long before he was naked and Vera was measuring his clothes against her. making sure that they would actually fit. He was chubbier than she was, and the fit was far from perfect, but it would have to do. Up to this point she could, had she been discovered, have talked her way out  without too much trouble but now she had to cross the Rubicon. She opened the door and looked up and down the corridor. There was no one there to notice her as she nipped through to the dormitories and, yes, there too, the coast was clear. On a night like this even those not available for sex were busy serving the wine and even the cook would be fully occupied in her kitchen. No one would have the spare time to hang about in the dorms. She lifted the loose board, grabbed the things she had hidden there and, after rechecking the corridor, ran back to the room where the recruit still slept soundly.

If she were to pass as him the biggest problem would be her hair.  She took a pair of scissors from her stash and, as quick as she could, she hacked away until it was as short as his. That the cut was rough and ready didn't really matter, his wasn't much better. Then she filled a bowl with water and added the hair dye. She put it on the floor so she could lie down and put the back of her head in it, keeping, as far as possible, her hands free and using towels to keep the dye off her hands. Working as fast as possible she soaked her hair and rubbed away the excess. When she stood up again her hair was still sodden but at least it was black and, if all went to plan, everyone would be far too busy to notice. Next on her agenda was her fair complexion. She scrubbed off her make-up, stripped off her kimono and dabbed at her face and arms with the polish until she was several shades darker; almost as dark as Sangeeta. Now she really was committed. If Lian caught her like this then it would be obvious what she was up to and her very life would be in danger.

She looked again at the recruit. He was no hunk but he certainly hadn't got her feminine shape. Using the scissors and brute force she tore her kimono into strips and bound them about her chest in and attempt to hide her breasts or at least keep them under control if she had to run. Now, at last, it was time to get dressed so, starting with his underwear, she put on the recruit's clothes. The fit wasn't good and she had to do quite a bit of tucking in, but it wasn't hopeless. At least the bagginess of the tunic disguised her still feminine outline. The biggest mercy was that, with a little padding, the boots were wearable. She scooped up what was left of her treasures and packed them in the soldier's kit bag, slung it around her shoulder and looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't pretty but she wasn't meant to be; at least she looked like a scared new recruit.  Now for the final step.

There were two lamps in the room and, as it was still quite early, they were both well stocked with oil. She took one of them, blew it out and turned it over spilling the oil everywhere, concentrating on the wooden furniture. Then she used the other to set fire to the result. It wasn't long before the flames were licking at the very structure of the brothel, but it was important to her plan that this should be a real fire, not something that could be put out with a bucket of water. Nervously she waited until the smoke had built up. When it had filled the room and she was beginning to find breathing difficult she knew that, at last, the time had come. She dragged the drunken body of the recruit from the bed and over to the door. She was committed. Her bridges, along with the brothel, were burning .

"Fire! Fire! Quick help! Fire! The brothel is on fire!"

Several heads popped out of the adjoining rooms, both those of the girls and those of their customers. The smoke was now billowing out of the room Vera had just vacated and her cry was picked up by others. Vera had bargained on this creating chaos and she wasn't disappointed in the result. After a quick glance to confirm the extent of the blaze, everyone had one thought and one thought only; to get out as fast as possible. Even her recruit had woken up enough to gather that there was a panic on, and he too was stumbling along, following the general rush for the doors. Vera propped him up and together they followed the scrum as they made their way outside. Once there, once they were safe, she let him go and, as he reeled away she kept her head down and tried to find a way out.

The crowd in the courtyard was slowly separating into groups. Madam Yang and Lian, along with the cook and the guards employed to watch the gates, were herding the girls into one group; protecting their assets, making sure no one ran away. The regular customers were slinking away into the night not wanting any more involvement. The army recruits, and this, again, was what Vera had bargained on, were gathering around their sergeant and his corporal. She, in line with her disguise, went over and joined them. They were just a bunch of scared, drunk and confused lads who hardly knew each other and no one gave her a second glance. As the group of recruits shuffled about she worked her way closer to the main gate. The gate was open. She waited for a suitable moment, one where no one was paying attention and then tried to sidle away. Now was her big chance.

"And where do you think you're going!"

Vera had spent enough time around parade grounds to know that shout.

"Just... just over here, sarge," she replied, keeping her voice as gruff as possible.

"Never mind 'just over here, sarge'. You stay with the platoon. What's your name, soldier?"

Vera panicked a little. She hadn't thought of a name. She thought over some of her customers. "Lie... Lie Hong," she stuttered.

"Well, Hong, get back over here with the other lads."

"Yes, sarge." Vera returned to the group.

After a while the sergeant lined them up, did a headcount and, getting the right number, assumed he had everyone. Vera could see her recruit slumped, still naked, over a horse trough on the other side of the courtyard, a pool of vomit before him. Everyone else assumed he was a regular customer and was far too busy to question who he was and what he was doing there.

The flames had now fully caught hold of the brothel and the various groups were having to stand back to keep safe. The sergeant, concerned that the fire might attract unwarranted attention, was anxious to get going. After all, as he explained to Madam Yang, they couldn't do much to help and were only getting in the way. He lined up all the recruits into a rough column and marched them off. Vera breathed a huge sigh of relief as, for the first time in months, she was outside.

As they marched back to the camp site, Vera was on the lookout for ways to escape but the sergeant, taking position at the back of the column, was equally on the lookout for deserters and it quickly became apparent that Vera's best course of action was to play along for a while. She might not be completely free but she was out of the brothel and each step was taking her farther away. She told herself she'd get settled, get as far away as possible and, once she had found her bearings, she would then find her way back to....

Back to where? That, itself, was a question. She should, of course, make her way back to the British community but that held little appeal. She had never fitted in and, she knew from experience that her time in the brothel would, somehow, be seen to be her fault. She would be tainted, despoiled, gone native in the worst possible way, and she would never be accepted back into that society. Furthermore she knew her career as a spy was now over and she had now done too much, seen too much, to accept any of the other roles that were waiting for her back there. It would be like taking a bird that had been freed and putting it back in a cage. The deciding factor was her concern that Major Strickland would be waiting with some very awkward questions about why she had left the barracks. She was pretty sure he had followed her that night so he would be asking why she had been taken to the rebel compound, even if she wasn't there when the attack took place. No, for the time being, she had few other options; she had joined the rebel army.

After a four days' march, they arrived at the training camp deep, deep in the hills. Here security was somewhat laxer than on the road, but it hardly needed to be strict; there was, quite literally, nowhere to run to. There was only one way out of the narrow valley and that one was guarded. The camp itself was temporary. Their billets consisted of small tents with only two or three recruits in each. Vera was assigned a tent with one of the other new recruits and, when the time came to settle down for the night, Vera knew exactly the sort of braggart talk that was expected from a lad of eighteen; she had, after all, heard it time after time in the brothel. Somewhat to her surprise she found it easier than she expected to keep her gender a secret. She had to take some care in the latrines and with personal hygiene but, with a little subterfuge, everyone was simply too busy to notice.

The training came in three basic flavours. Firstly there was the physical side; marching back and forth endlessly and with little apparent point, always pushing them to the point of exhaustion. Vera wondered at first why they were doing this until she realised how this was helping to forge them into a team, teaching them to move as one, to act as one, even if their common bond was their hatred of the sergeant. Furthermore it was helping to toughen them up. Each run, each session around the obstacle course, each forced march, worked off a little more fat and toned up their muscles. Her activities in the brothel, both in and out of bed, had kept her fit and, except for some of the farm boys, she was one of the stronger recruits.

The second aspect was weapons training. Right from the first day they were issued with rifles. Vera noted that they were British Lee-Enfield .303's and wondered where they had come from. At first, they were only taught basic care and maintenance. Weapons inspection was a regular event and heaven help any recruit whose rifle wasn't in tip-top condition or whose bayonet wasn't polished and sharp. Vera's nimble fingers helped her to master this easily and helped keep her near the top of the class. However, there soon came a point where theory ended and practice started and Vera, practising on the firing range, realised that, one day, the shapes she saw through the sights would one day be real people rather than wooden cut-outs. The sergeant noted her reluctance when bayoneting sacks full of straw and her ranking slipped somewhat. His exhortation to imagine the sacks as British soldiers didn't help as much as he might have thought.

The third part of the training was indoctrination. An officer, whom Vera recognised  as a Chinese version of Major Strickland, would gather them round and give history lessons so that they knew what they were fighting for. Vera was appalled at the way her country, her people, were being slandered but, as she listened, she began to see how she had also been lied to by her British teachers.  Sifting any facts from either side's lies and distortions was nigh on impossible. All through the lectures she couldn't help but remember the refugee camp. They weren't lies, they weren't distortions; she had seen them for herself and knew their truth. Those brave women and their suffering, that was the real cost of war. Whose fault was it, Colonel Fortesque for burning down the villages or General Chang for provoking him to do so? And, in the end of the day, as far as the women were concerned, did it matter?

As they settled in, so friendships began to develop and, although she kept herself to herself, she was getting to know her fellow recruits. Not far below their bravado, they were lost and homesick and Vera felt almost motherly towards some of them. Her experience might have been slanted and limited but she knew more about how the world worked than most of her comrades. One, named Jinsong, worried her. He always seemed to be watching her in a way that made her feel uneasy. Much as she tried to keep out of his way, they were a small group and she couldn't help but have to deal with him on a more or less daily basis.

One day they found themselves on manoeuvres together and, for a while, they had to wait, hidden in the woods.

"There's something wrong about you," Jinsong said almost casually.

"What do you mean?" Vera replied.

"I've been watching you. You never take a piss with the others and you're always so private when it time to bed down for the night. What are you hiding?"

"I'm... I'm just a bit shy," Vera tried.

"Shy, no, I don't think that's it. You're forward enough at other times. No, I think you're hiding something and, whatever that something is, it's in your pants. And then there's that squeaky little voice of yours. What's up? Did somebody cut your jiba off? Maybe it shrivelled up and fell off. I'm close, aren't I?" Jinsong had noticed that how uneasy his questions were making Vera and was homing in. "That's your secret, isn't it. You're ashamed of your pathetic little shriveled up twig of a jiba. I think you're a freak, a nasty little freak. What are you, some sort of eunuch?"

"Of course not! Don't be silly!"

"Prove it then, whip your jiba out and show me."

"Why should I?"

"Because, if you don't, then I'll know it's because you can't. I know there's some little secret you're hiding and I'm going to find out exactly what it is. You can show me now, all nice and quietly or I'll get some of the lads and, when you're not expecting it, we'll strip you off and have a proper look, right there in the camp ground. What's it to be, nice and easy out here, or back in camp in front of everyone? It's your choice but it's now or never."

Vera thought fast. She was in no doubt that Jinsong would carry through his threat and then her secret would be well and truly out and who knows what sort of trouble she'd be in. On the other hand, although he was  as treacherous as a snake, maybe she could make a deal with him.

"Jinsong, I'm not a eunuch, I'm... I'm a girl," Vera admitted.

"You're what!" Jinsong was genuinely amazed.

"A girl. I've... I've run away from home. Please, please Jinsong, please don't tell on me."

"A girl!" Jinsong's eyes lit up. "Prove it!"

With a sigh Vera undid her belt and pushed down her trousers just far enough to expose her crotch. Jinsong stared at her intently.

"There, seen enough?" Vera demanded bitterly as she refastened her trousers.

"Wow! It's true, you really are a girl," Jinsong seemed to think for a moment. "But what if you are? Why shouldn't I tell? What's in it for me? What do I get from you?"

'Here we go' thought Vera. She knew only too well what he'd want to keep him quiet. Not so long ago that would have been unthinkable but, with what she knew now, it was just another indignity to heap upon the pile with all the others. However, she mustn't seem to be too keen to make a deal.

"Well, if we keep this a secret, just between the two of us... well, I could... if you want... I mean, a handsome lad like you.... maybe we could..."

"Maybe we could what?"

"Please, Jinsong, don't make me say it."

"Are you saying that if I keep quiet then I get to..."

Vera could almost see the cogs whirling in his mind. As she'd found in the brothel, men would do anything for the promise of sex. She smiled coyly at him and averted her eyes.

"And you're saying...."

Vera just nodded.

"Let's get this straight," Jinsong wasn't in the mood for coyness. "If I keep this a secret I get to cao you whenever and however I want?"

"I... I guess so," Vera said quietly.

"You guess so," Jinsong queried. "You'd better be sure."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, show us the goods again. A proper look this time. Drop your pants and show me your bi, the one I'm going to cao whenever I want. Go on."

Vera could guess where this was leading so she looked all about to make sure that they were alone. There was no one else anywhere close so she undid her belt buckle and lowered her trousers, hooking her underwear with her thumbs to pull them down as well. With her trousers and underpants around her ankles she stood and faced Jinsong.

"Well there's a sight for sore eyes." Jinsong's hand disappeared into his trousers. "And I get to fuck that whenever I want."

"I guess so." Vera bent down again and started to pull her trousers but Jinsong stopped her.

"Hang on, I don't know what you're pulling them up for. We haven't done it yet."

"What, here? Now?"

"Whenever I want, that's the deal," Jinsong reminded her, "but first I want a little show. Why don't you strip off completely and let me see the rest of the goods."

"Look, the others will be along in a minute and we'll be discovered." Vera's concern was very real.

"You mean you'll be discovered," Jinsong sneered. "I've got nothing to hide."

And then inspiration hit Vera. "Look, you don't want this to be found out any more than I do. Remember, if I'm discovered then it means no more cao for you. This deal works both ways. If you want to cao then you've got to keep it a secret and, if we're going to do it now we'd best get on with it." Vera found a suitable place, lay down, and kicked off her pants. "Come along, big boy, show me what you've got."

Jinsong could hardly wait to get his trousers down and, in a trice, he was on her, stabbing away blindly with his prick. Vera knew then that, for all his big talk, he knew less than nothing about what he was doing and this was almost certainly his first time. For her sake as much as for his, she reached down and took his prick in her hand and gave it a couple of strokes before guiding him towards her but, before she had even got the tip inside, he gave a massive groan and, she felt him spurt his load over her.

"Ooh, that was good, so good," she purred. She knew exactly what to say in these circumstances.

"Was it, was it really?" Jinsong started before he realised how much he'd given himself away. "Yeah, I'm the best. Get used to it, I'm going to cao you 'till you're walking bow-legged. Morning, noon and night. You're mine now, my whore, my concubine."

With a sigh, Vera realised that, for the moment at least, he was right.

Over the next few days Jinsong took every opportunity he could find to pester Vera and, when the opportunities arose, he would take delight in leading her deep into the woods, ordering her to strip and do a dance for him.  But, for all that he was mean and twisted, he was also sexually naïve and Vera found that he was quite easy to manipulate. She could avoid penetration by, for example, letting him rub himself between her breasts and, when she took him in her mouth he thought that this was the best thing ever. Not that this was a particularly pleasant pastime, as his personal hygiene was less than perfect, but it was preferable to the alternatives and at least she wasn't at risk of getting pregnant.

The very next day the sergeant commented at how much better she was at bayonet practice and praised her for 'really sticking it to those British swine' as she bayoneted the bags of straw. His praise might have been more guarded had he known that, for Vera, each and every sack of straw was Jinsong and, as she plunged the bayonet in she fantasised about how she would love it to be his body on the receiving end. Her thoughts on how and where she would like to plunge her bayonet were far from ladylike.

And then, come the midday meal beak on the fourth day of their arrangement, Jinsong came up to Vera and demanded that she meet him in the woods behind the camp. With a weary sigh she finished her meal and then headed out to the woods. It was only when she got to their prearranged meeting place that she realised that he was not alone; three of the other recruits had been hiding and now surrounded her. She turned to go but her way was stopped.

"This is not what we agreed!" she said angrily to Jinsong. "The arrangement was with you and you alone."

"Not any more, it's not," he replied. "These guys have paid me good money and you're going to give them everything they want, any way they want, just as you do for me, ain't that so, lads."

"Yeah, right, everything," and, to emphasise their agreement, she was grabbed and thrown to the ground and her clothes were pulled from her.

"She really is a girl! Look, she's got tits and everything!" one exclaimed.

"Who's going to go first?" Jinsong asked. "Who wants to cao the bitch? Get her to suck your jiba, that's a good one."

"I'll get you for this!" Vera snarled.

"No you won't, not unless you want me to tell sarge. Now be a good girl and behave."

She didn't have much choice. The press of bodies pinned her to the ground and her ability to move was very limited. These boys were amateurs when compared to Chang's henchmen but the end result was going to be the same. With all four of them on top of her she could hardly tell who was doing what, not that it mattered that much. She could feel them groping her body, mauling her breasts and between her thighs. One of them undid his belt, pulled down his trousers and his prick was thrust at her face. Every fibre of her being told her to fight, to resist, but she knew she was trapped. She had to get out, she had to....

"Lads! Lads! What the cao are you doing out here?" A voice came through the woods.

"Never you mind. Leave us be, it's private business," Jinsong shouted back.

"If you don't get back to camp it will be punishment business. We're to be on parade in five minutes. Come on! The sarge will go mad if you're missing."

"OK, OK, we're coming," Jinsong shouted back and then, much quieter, to Vera, "and don't think we're finished with you either. Come on lads, apparently the sarge wants us!"

They got to their feet, buttoned themselves up and, leaving Vera lying on the ground, headed back to the camp.

Vera, badly shaken, sat up and started to pull on her clothes. One or two buttons had come astray but nothing too serious. She was half tempted to run but she knew she wouldn't get far. Maybe she should just go to the sarge and confess everything. But then, if she were to do that, she knew her cover story wouldn't hold up and it would come out that she was British. She would end up being shot as a spy and she already knew how it felt to have that hanging over her. She looked off towards the camp. Her attackers were now quite some distance away. She too had to be there if the sarge had called a parade. She got to her feet and followed them.

She returned to the camp just in time. The recruits were lining up and the sergeant was walking back and forth agitatedly. He shouted at Vera to get a move on and she hurried to join the end of the line.

"Right, you horrible shower, training is over. You've had your little holiday, now it's time to make proper soldiers of you all. We've been chosen for a special action. You have just one hour to strike camp and get yourself packed and ready to go. Do I hear any objections? No? Then get moving! Squad dismiss!"

With the hustle and bustle of striking camp, her ordeal was pushed to one side. She glanced across at Jinsong but, as with everyone else, he was far too busy getting ready to leave. From her experience of the journey to the camp they would be far too busy on the road  and have far too little privacy for Jinsong to bother her for a while. After that, well, her ordeal wasn't over yet but, if they were going into action, maybe... briefly the thought crossed her mind that there might be a chance of an 'accident' but she knew she'd never be able to pull the trigger. No, for now all she had to do was survive and, after that, she'd just have to see.