Rogue Angel 05 - Forbidden City.pdf

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ROGUE ANGEL
ALEX ARCHER
FORBIDDEN
CITY
A GOLD EAGLE BOOK FROM WORLDWIDE ®
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THE LEGEND
…THE ENGLISH COMMANDER TOOK JOAN’S SWORD AND
RAISED IT HIGH.
The broadsword, plain and unadorned, gleamed in the firelight. He
put the tip against the ground and his foot at the center of the blade. The
broadsword shattered, fragments falling into the mud. The crowd surged
forward, peasant and soldier, and snatched the shards from the trampled
mud. The commander tossed the hilt deep into the crowd.
Smoke almost obscured Joan, but she continued praying till the end,
until finally the flames climbed her body and she sagged against the
restraints.
Joan of Arc died that fateful day in France, but her legend and
sword are reborn….
Prologue
Loulan City, China
184 A.D .
Everyone in the city hated Emperor Ling’s tax collectors. Times
were hard. Spring floods had ruined crops and dwellings. Families
struggled to make ends meet while still having enough left over to fill the
imperial coffers. The Han Dynasty, though, remained unsympathetic to
the needs of its citizens. Rebellions had begun around the kingdom.
Occasionally, when angry men grew tired of the heavy tax burden,
they killed the royal collectors and took back their taxes. The emperor
then had to employ more warriors to protect the tax collectors, and that
raised the taxes again.
Of all the emperor’s tax collectors, Tsui Zedong was the most hated.
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Fat and arrogant, Zedong enjoyed throwing around the emperor’s
power. It was said that were he not able to add sums so quickly in his
head he would have been executed for being a thief.
Dressed in brocade robes, he traveled the countryside inside an
opulent carriage. Six armed warriors on horses escorted him and
protected the emperor’s gold from bandits. All of the warriors were
experienced and scarred from many battles.
When the carriage slowed that late spring morning, Zedong slid the
rice paper shade from the carriage window and peered out. Loulan City
was small, filled mostly with farmers who barely eked out an existence.
But there were a few skilled artisans and craftsmen. Most of them had
shops on the street he presently traveled.
The driver pulled the carriage to a stop, then got down and opened
the door.
Holding his robes together, Zedong heaved his bulk up from the
padded seat and got out to do the emperor’s collecting. Zedong smelled
food in the air. When he stepped down from the carriage, he saw a tavern
three shops down. The carcasses of ducks and geese hung from a rope out
front, ready for purchase by those who worked inside the city and didn’t
raise their own livestock.
All of the shops ran in straight lines on either side of the street. Most
of them had existed for years, put together by families and trained
carpenters. A well in the center of the square provided water for travelers.
Several shopkeepers stopped their work and came out to look at the
carriage. Most of them wore looks of dread.
The warriors, bristling with swords and bows, tied their horses to the
back of the carriage. They took the chest from inside the carriage. Two of
them carried it between them.
Several murmured curses echoed along the street. The shopkeepers
knew what was about to occur.
Unrolling the scroll the emperor’s tax keepers had prepared listing
the shopkeepers and the amounts they were to pay, Zedong reviewed the
listing for the jeweler he planned to visit first. Zedong rolled the scroll
back and entered the small shop.
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The jeweler’s establishment was small and tidy. On the surface, he
appeared to be a poor man, but Zedong knew from years of collecting that
many shopkeepers and tradesmen disguised their wealth.
An old woman sat in a chair holding a fat cat in her lap.
“I have come to collect the taxes for the emperor,” Zedong
announced.
The old jeweler looked nervous. His back was bent from years of
hunching over his tools, creating settings and pulling thin gold wire. With
a trembling hand, he handed Zedong a cloth bag that clinked.
Zedong knew from the feel of the bag that it didn’t contain enough
gold. He could have told the shopkeeper that without opening the bag, but
he opened it anyway and spilled the contents across his hand.
“There is not enough,” Zedong accused.
“It is all we have,” the jeweler whispered.
“Nonsense. You have a fat cat. If you have enough to keep your cat
fat, then you have enough to pay the emperor his taxes.”
“No, I swear to you,” the old man said. “It is all we have.”
Zedong dropped the bag into the emperor’s chest. Then he looked
around the shop. “You have gold ingots and jewels.”
“Please,” the old man begged. “We do not have many of those.
Hardly enough to stay in business. If you take those, we cannot make
items to sell. Then the emperor’s new taxes won’t be met.”
“If you don’t meet the taxes,” Zedong promised, “things will go
badly for you.” He turned to the warriors. “Seize the gold and gems.”
The warriors went about their assignment. Screaming in outrage and
pain, the old jeweler grabbed one of the warriors by the arm and yanked.
Without hesitating, the warrior shoved the old man away and thrust a
dagger through his throat.
The jeweler fell and his blood stained the wooden floor. He clasped
his throat and kicked helplessly as his life ebbed.
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