Moon Rising
The room she found herself in was dark and cool. Moon had been in her bedroom a moment before, preparing to receive her new husband. They had been married that day, an arrangement made between their fathers. Her robes were folded away into the chest and she had put on her new silk pajamas and slid beneath the blankets, closed her eyes to wait, and then opened them again to find herself here. As her eyes adjusted, she found she was on a sort of bed, a raised dais or platform with blankets piled on it. The floor and walls and ceiling were all carved of stone and unadorned. There was a lake all around the platform, and a narrow walkway that led to another chamber. There were candles, which cast a weak light, but allowed her to see. A shadow moved in the doorway and then filled it.
“Fear not, Princess.”
He might have told her to stop breathing, to still her heart. There was no avenue of escape. She looked around for something to defend herself with.
“I mean you no harm, and I am no threat to your virtue.” He moved toward her slowly along the narrow walkway. His voice was soft, seductive, but held an edge of restrained anger.
She stood to meet him. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
“Your father must learn the weight of a promise,” he said and continued to move toward her.
“I’m certain he will give you whatever it is you are owed. Only return with me now and let the matter be settled.”
“Now? It’s late now.” He walked past her, and around to the other side of the platform. Then he unbelted his sword, and laid down.
Moon stood looking down at him, uncertain what to do.
“You’ll be cold,” he warned. He looked at her for a moment, then picked up his scabbard and handed it to her.
She clutched the heavy blade against her belly. After a short time, his breathing grew deep and steady, and she did get cold. She carefully pushed a wall of blankets against him, between them, and lay down, keeping the sword in her hands.
Moon awoke in her own bedroom again, her newly named husband was clambering up off the floor. He looked frightened. He started to speak, when the door burst open.
The servant bowed, “It is time to prepare you for the day’s celebrations. Princess, your bath has been drawn.”
Moon slipped a robe over her pajamas and followed the servant to the bath. He left her there and two serving girls assisted her off with her clothes. She saw them inspect her pajamas. She knew someone would be checking the bedsheets as well. There would be nothing for them to find. As she sank into the hot water, the strange night seemed almost a dream. Had she simply fallen asleep and invented the whole thing? She saw the serving girls whispering together, and then one left the room quickly. Moments later her mother strode in.
“What is this? What’s happened?” she demanded. She waved the serving girls away.
“I’m not certain,” Moon confessed, and she told her mother what she remembered of the space she had been in, and of the stranger. “What did he mean?” she asked, “What promise has father failed to keep?”
Her mother looked thoughtful and smoothed Moon’s hair. “Don’t you worry about it.”
She left. The serving girls returned and Moon was dressed for the continuing wedding festivities.
She was tired much of the day, and that night she fell eagerly into bed, alone, her husband not arrived, and fell asleep. She woke to someone laying down beside her, and instantly came awake, knowing she was no longer in her bedroom, but back in the strange, dark chamber. She felt a weight press down the blankets beside her and grasped the familiar sword.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What promise has my father failed to keep?”
He was quiet for a long time and she thought he meant not to answer, but finally he said, “I am your rightful husband.”
She pushed up on her arm and looked down at him. His face was in shadow, but she knew his voice was not that of the man she had passed the last days in ceremony with. “Who are you?” she asked again.
“Ask your father of the man you were taken from. I only act now to protect your honor from one who is not, by rights, to have you.”
Moon lay down again. “No care for what I might want?”
Now he leaned up, and was quiet, then lay back again. “I had not thought of it,” he confessed.
“And now that you have?”
She was used to his long silences now and waited. “If, when the truth is known, you will not have me, I will not hold you to your father’s word.”
When he fell asleep, she got up from the bed and followed the narrow path through the doorway to the next chamber. It was full of gold and jewels that glittered and reflected the candle light. The riches were shaped into food and animals and plants. As she explored from room to room, she found heavy urns for wine and oil along the wall, and a great ceramic jar filled with rice. In one chamber, a clay army stood guard over a masterfully recreated model of the city and surrounding valley. Each small figure had a unique face and was outfitted in armor and weapons. There were horses, mounted cavalry, and supply carts, all carefully crafted.
“Do you know where you are?” the man asked from behind her.
“The tomb of the lost emperor,” she answered. “No one knows where it is.”
She spent the night moving through the underground palace, where the lost emperor had stored up everything he might need for eternity. In the morning, Moon found herself in her own bed, surrounded by her own room, disappointing now in its ordinariness. Her new husband was again on the floor. He looked at her with fear and consternation, took up his robe, and left. She felt bad for him.
He was the son of one of her father’s government ministers. She had not met him before the commencement of their marriage festivities earlier in the week, but she had no reason to think poorly of him. It would be a good match, her mother had said. She would learn to influence him, to be water when he was unyeilding and wear down the stubborn rock, to be his most trusted adviser and companion. She would select his courtesans and direct his household affairs. It was in this way that women made their way in the world, her mother said. And she and the emperor would make certain, with the minister and the boy’s mother, that he understood the importance of valuing the princess’s wise counsel. Moon had accepted this. She had never even considered what other options there might be, though now she did, the alternatives were unappealing; how would a woman alone in the world, without husband, family, and name to protect her, make her way? She would learn her husband’s ways and learn to be the neck that turned the head. Still, she felt badly for this young man. Where did he go, she wondered, when she slept in the tomb of the lost emperor beside the strange man claiming to be her rightful husband?
She wished he hadn’t gone, so that she could ask him. She considered the alternative of that other husband, he who whisked her away by night with no word, who by means of connivance insisted on what he claimed was his right. Would she be able to turn him? Would her mother and father’s influence protect her in this other man’s household? A more secret thought arose, unbidden: what if she didn’t take either of them?
Her mother came into the room. “What, you aren’t dressed? Get up, get up.”
Moon climbed out of bed and her mother helped her make ready for the day. “It happened again,” her mother said. It wasn’t a question. “The minister said his son spoke to him. Your husband has spent the last two nights in a dungeon and the marriage hasn’t been consummated.”
“It is as I said, Mother,” Moon answered. “I blink and I am elsewhere, and the man there claims he is my husband.”
“Well, the minister’s son thinks this may be your doing by some unnatural means.”
“I don’t think we will be let to sleep,” Moon said. “If my father swore some oath…” She did not finish. She would not presume to suggest what the emperor ought or ought not to do, but her mother took her meaning.
“The minister’s son will feel unwell today,” her mother said. “You’re to stay in your rooms.” She gazed into her daughter’s eyes reflected in the mirror and stroked her hair. “I’ll take care of everything.”
That night, Moon was surrounded by palace guards. They were stationed around her bed and at the window and door. They were quiet, but she could feel their vigilant presence, and it disturbed her rest. Finally, she got up to light a lamp, and as the flame touched the wick, she found herself standing in the tomb again.
“Who are you?” she asked, and turned to look for her captor.
“I am the son of a merchant,” he said, stepping into the glow of candlelight. “My father was a tailor, my mother is a seamstress.”
“And why would my father make you a promise?”
He lifted a hand in question. “Why do men of power promise anything? Gold, silk, jewels, the promise of wealth.”
“And how did the son of a merchant acquire such wealth as to buy a promise from an emperor?”
“Ah… that is a story for another night. After we are wed in truth.”
“And what truth is there built on secrecy?” she pressed. “Why would my father sell me to you?”
“Such are the ways of the world, Princess,” he said quietly.
“Is the kingdom in such need?”
“It is the king who has such greed.”
“Do not bandy words with me, Merchant-son.”
“For all that I am low-born, Princess, still you will be mine.”
She looked at him, boldly stepped closer until she could see his face through the shadows. “You gave your word that the choice would be mine. That you would not hold me to my father’s word.”
He had the grace to look abashed. “Why do you challenge me?”
“You bring me here night after night by some unknown magic for some claim of your rights. What is your right before the emperor?”
“He promised. He promised me your hand and wed you to another! For what reason? My birth? He took what I offered, then cast me aside! Broke his word and thought nothing of it!”
“It is his right. Our land is his to rule by the Mandate of Heaven, by the same right established long before time when this lost emperor ruled. You should learn your place, as I have learned mine.”
“And what if there was another way? What if you had your choice?”
“You offered me that.” She walked away from him, considering what he suggested. To do other than obey. She felt a secret thrill even to entertain such thoughts. What if she had her choice? She pondered it, her mind turning to open landscapes she’d only glimpsed through the curtains of a palanquin, and the strangely dressed visitors who came to court from “Far Away” and “Distant Shores.” She tucked into the blankets on the dais. “How is it you can bring me here even while I am surrounded by the palace guard?”
He rubbed his hands together, and twisted a ring around his finger, but said nothing.
Moon turned her back to him and closed her eyes. She slept fitfully and consequently was awake when he rose from beside her. She ducked further under the blankets to watch him unseen. He rubbed his thumb across the surface of his ring. A heavy haze surrounded him and she heard him say, “Return the princess to her chamber and set everything as it was.”
And Moon found herself in her own bed. There were only two guards left in her room, and as soon as she sat up in bed, one of them ran, shouting that she was returned. Her mother and father and the minister all filed in. A moment later, another guard came in and said that the minister’s son had returned, and the minister left her alone with her parents.
“What is this then?” the emperor asked. “What is this sorcery?”
Moon quickly prostrated herself at his feet.
“Great Emperor,” she heard her mother’s soothing voice, “this is not the work of the child. What does she know but what she has learned in this very house? Instead, the fortune tellers have said that this is the work of a promise left unfulfilled. Moon, what oath have you not kept? What promise have you given without the emperor’s consent?”
“Nothing, I swear it,” Moon said to the floor.
“Come now, you wretched girl. I curse the day you were born in place of a son,” her mother continued. “Don’t make me beat you! Now, tell us and your father may show mercy!”
“Nothing! Who am I to make an oath? My will is only to do that of my sire!” Moon protested.
“Girl, I will beat you!” her mother threatened.
“Now,” the emperor himself interrupted. “On your feet, Moon. You shall not beat the girl,” he said to the empress.
Moon stood, and saw her mother hide a small look of satisfaction even while she protested, “But who else could have made some promise unkept and brought this misfortune on us?”
The emperor patted the empress’s hand. “Leave it to me. I’ll see to it,” he said, and made his exit.
Moon’s mother smoothed her daughter’s hair back and smiled. “There, all settled.”
“You said you would beat me,” Moon said, and her mother laughed and hugged her.
“I would sooner cut out my own heart. Anyway, he would never allow harm to come to you.”
“He has promised me to a merchant. For gold.”
Her mother’s face clouded. “If this man has riches enough to impress the emperor, he will be able to provide you with the comforts you deserve.”
“But what can we know of him?”
“Your father will have to bring this family to court, and then we will know all. Don’t you worry, my Moon, my shining pearl of heaven, I will not let any harm come to you.”
That day the emperor announced the annulment of the marriage contract so recently celebrated. The union, it had come to his attention, was not auspicious, and thankfully, had not been consummated, and so was declared void. That night, Moon remained in her own room. She waited for the merchant’s son to pull her to the tomb of the lost emperor, but she only stared at her own ceiling. As dawn rose, her parents came into her room again. Finding her there, and receiving her assurances that she had remained, they left her alone. Finally, she fell into a deep sleep.
It was two days before anything happened. On the third day, at last, the trumpets sounded from the city gates that visitors were approaching. She watched the retinue pass through the gates, displaying great wealth. She was not summoned. She waited in her rooms, walked the walled gardens, returned to wait, and still no word came. At long last, a messenger arrived at her door. The emperor wished to see her at court. Moon dressed in her most beautiful silk robe, had her servant style her hair, and then went to the audience chamber.
The merchant’s son was there, though she did not look at him, and instead walked to the center of the room and prostrated herself before the emperor.
“Rise, Moon, and greet your husband,” he commanded.
She stood and looked where he gestured, toward the merchant’s son.
He bowed. “I am your servant, if you will have me,” he said.
The emperor chuckled.
“I am the emperor’s obedient servant,” she said, bowing in return. “If it please the emperor, I would ask a small token of my husband’s promise.”
This pleased her father and he nodded.
The merchant’s son looked wary. “What will you have of me, my lady Moon?”
“It is but a small thing. Only give me that ring on your little finger, and I will have you.”
The emperor roared with laughter, and his courtiers joined him. Moon stood still and silent. She felt her mother’s gaze and lifted her chin with pride.
“This old thing?” the merchant’s son put his hand into his robe. “My lady, let me bring you something of greater value, something to do justice to your beauty.”
“I have made my request,” she answered. “It is such a small thing for the emperor’s daughter.”
The emperor frowned. “Give her the bauble, boy.” Then he smiled, “Let this be your first lesson in marriage, eh?” And he laughed again, and her mother bowed her head in modesty.
Seeing he had no recourse, the merchant’s son took the ring from his finger and crossed the audience chamber with it extended. Moon stepped forward and closed her fingers around the chunky ring. The merchant’s son looked at her and started to speak, but then simply released his hold on the ring. Moon tried it on each finger and found it too large for all but her thumb, where it still twisted easily. She rubbed the thumb of the opposite hand across the dull red gemstone as she had watched the merchant’s son do in the tomb. After a moment, the audience chamber filled with something like smoke or steam, and before her stood a spirit.
“Holder of the ring,” it intoned, “I am your servant. What is your bidding?”
Moon looked around her. The others in the room had disappeared behind the fog, and she was surrounded by perfect silence. What was her bidding? Servants moved through her life almost without any guidance from herself. She was bathed and dressed and escorted as her mother or the emperor directed. What did she want? She had almost never considered it. But if she had her choice? Those were moments kept secure and hidden like a secret sin. All she had wanted was an acceptable husband, one who would respect her parents and not harm her, one whose whims and desires she could anticipate, one whose will she could influence for the sake of herself and her children. She had never thought to want for more. This was a woman’s only way in the world, to obey her husband, and yet to guide his commands. But if she had her choice? She thought of wide landscapes, of visitors with strange manners and odd clothing. Her heart raced and she suddenly felt ill. She almost removed the ring, but a movement from the spirit stopped her.
“There is time,” it seemed to say, though it only repeated the same words over again. Then Moon knew what her answer was.
“I don’t want my mother to fear for me,” she began, and the spirit seemed to approve. She took a breath to steady her nerves, and then commanded, “Hold this place exactly as it is until I return. Let it be as no time has passed. And show me how other women live.” And with that, the mist cleared, and she found herself in another land.
