Sun Quan had returned to the islet and waited against Turtle Tower—a centurion with authority, pacing back and forth at the gate of the palace. He guarded Occupied Hanoi in his own way, not concerned if the Chinese leadership understood his actions. Several patrols called to him—technology not needed—and asked for his assistance with rebel outbreaks. He brushed them off and remained in isolation, staring at the surface of the water. He desired to be there—needed to be there—when the turtle re-emerged from its adventures below, if indeed the strange magic permitted their survival. He doubted it. He would try to slide into the deep. He would never stop trying; unless, he thought, she did return.
Another patrol stopped on the western shore and waved to the giant figure leaning against the moonlit tower. One antagonized glance from Sun Quan sent them on their way without further inquiry.
“Come, my friend. Return. I’m here.”
The terracotta warriors backed away. Lady Trieu yelled once into the abyss and swung the mighty sword over her head, causing the water to whirl in a vicious torrent, sweeping away the warriors and disintegrating them to ancient dust particles. History reasserted itself and revealed its lessons once more to the three sojourners. As the dust settled into the depths of the water, the image of Lady Trieu emerged once again. She held the sword by its handle with the tip straight down into the water. She floated with ease as if perfectly in harmony with the ebbs and flows of the lower currents.
“Why have you come here?”
No one replied. Young Minh glanced at Tho for leadership. Lien cowed her neck into her shoulders just a pinch and too yielded authority to the wise and elderly Tho. Age was to be revered, was it not? And Lady Trieu, from a different millennium, earned even more reverence. Too wonderful to speak to. Too marvelous to look upon, yet they couldn’t help themselves. Her beauty entranced them. But Tho knew his role—the messenger—the one expected to put it all together—the one who would need ninety years of experience and research to muster the courage to speak into the face of the afterlife. He marveled at her vibrancy, her free spirit, like the power of freedom in the human soul confronting the oppressor, never yielding, always hopeful for the day of deliverance to usher in peace. Tho stood, balancing his weight on the boat resting on the floating turtle, and decided to answer.
“Ba Trieu, we have come to—”
“I’m not talking to you,” she cut him off mid-thought, and stroked the top of the giant turtle’s head.
The turtle lifted its neck and spoke in a dark voice. “The sword needs to be released once again.”
All three of the sojourners jumped back at the audible, intelligible sound coming from the animal’s mouth. Minh’s eyes flamed in dismay.
“Ma, it spoke.”
“Shhh—”
“While the sword remains with us, it is safe, is it not?” Lady Trieu still hadn’t glanced back at the three humans yet.
“We all know what safety will bring us,” said the turtle. “In a world of danger, a safe course of action may be the most dangerous of all.”
“Tell me.” Lady Trieu rubbed her hands up and down the blade of the sword.
“They unlocked it.”
“These on your back?”
“They may not look like much …”
“They are not even worth looking at yet.”
Tho had witnessed many miraculous moments in a life which had spanned more than nine decades, but the scene in front of him, a turtle (the turtle!) presenting the sword to the great Vietnamese heroine as they talked about the three ordinary people surviving in a bubble on the back of the turtle was something he never could have predicted or seen with his marble tablets. The most remarkable part rang in his ears—an audible conversation between the turtle and the heroine about them. He had wondered if he had died already and had been granted a water burial in the sacred depths of history. But death couldn’t have explained the presence of Minh and Lien, so he accepted the miraculous at face value. This value could not have been purchased or bought. It could only have been prayed into fruition.
“They may not look like warriors, but they are the ones who uncovered the truth. He has returned.”
Lady Trieu snapped her gaze away from the sword and looked directly into the turtle’s eyes. “He is here?”
“Yes.”
“Sun Quan?”
“Yes. He is waiting for you above the surface.”
Lady Trieu turned her back toward them. She had the form of a young woman of great beauty. Minh watched wide-eyed at her, but her youth was not inexperience or weakness. Her youth sat upon her as a renewal, an eager hope that the present never tells the whole tale, that the future and the past always collide no matter what bargain the next aggressor makes with the demons of the deep. A rightness sat upon her. Almost a righteousness. Earned within the historical record and now free to decide for itself how to proceed because of the foolish action of a long-lost Chinese king and three over-matched Vietnamese idealists.
Tho watched as she floated upward, looking for the one lurking above the surface. She let out a gentle melancholy sigh—like a lover missing her soul mate. She turned again and swam back to the turtle.
“If he has come, it is to settle the score.”
“Yes,” confirmed the turtle. “Or … maybe even something more.”
“And the outcome?”
“The Hans have complete control.”
“It’s not the first time.”
“No, but you must admit, it’s the first time they have reached into the past and …”
“Yes. I know,” pondered Lady Trieu.
“That’s why I brought the sword to you. You’re the one they seek. Wisely, I might add.”
For the first time, Lady Trieu lifted her gaze from the turtle’s eyes and looked through the transparent bubble at the three faces: one of a fit-middle-aged woman, one of a boy transitioning to manhood, and one of the elder sage.
“The turtle trusts you,” she spoke to them. “Why have you come?”
“Venerable Lady Trieu.” Tho had taken a tiny step forward in the rowboat. “The sacred trust of our nation has been broken. She weeps for her children, bloody and bruised, strewn about like waste with no regard for life or the sacred bond of history.”
The eyes of Lady Trieu became glossy, as if she knew the tale he told.
“… and they have not done it with strength or cunning. They have cheated history from us by selling their very souls to the demons who were once under our feet, under our command because of the heroic deeds of the heroes and heroines like yourself who came before us.”
“Don’t flatter me!” she yelled with spite, sending Minh into a seated position, eyes bulging, lips mum, yet quivering.
“Flattery doesn’t erode the truth, and the truth never speaks in flattery. It simply lives,” replied Tho, with a sternness in his voice.
“What do you want from me?”
“I saw him, Lady Trieu. Sun Quan. He and he alone holds the grip of fear over our people. We need a warrior who can stand against the arms of history, where all our modern weapons fail. There is a limit to our knowledge. Modern man sees the possibilities in front of him and builds the evilest machines to cause the maximum destruction. It’s for our protection, we say. It’s for our defense, yet we all know it’s only a half-truth. It’s also for our aggression, and for our lusty desires. Yet all of the murderous destruction that we show to each other is nothing compared with the arm of history. It is the only way to defeat this tyranny upon our land. In our hour of greatest need, Lady Trieu, we need you once more. Take the sword in your hands and help us fight for the very survival of our nation. We have but one hope, and it is you.”
“You said it was Sun Quan? He alone has done this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wrong,” replied Lady Trieu. “There must be another.”
“But who?”
Without warning, arms reached from the depths and grabbed the legs of Lady Trieu. She screamed, unaware of the source, and soon the turtle remained alone in the water with the three still on its back. No one spoke. Everyone froze in a moment of terror. If she could be whisked away without a split-second warning, then what could become of them in the next moment?
They found out. More arms, dotted, like long tunnels of dirt lifted the underbelly of the turtle, flipping it over on its side. The travelers were tossed against the side of the bubble, which shifted back and forth, breaking their fall but not relieving their fears. They screamed in terror as the arms swallowed them on all sides and squeezed the bubble with great pressure. The turtle reached its’ neck out and tried to nip the demon arms, but his reach had little effect. The arms continued to crush the bubble, pushing the three humans into a smaller and smaller space over the turtle’s shell. They tossed and turned with each push until the feeble walls, thin and worn in the struggle, gave way. Water collapsed upon them, and the three were engulfed by the cold depths, choking them with fear and expunging the remaining oxygen from their lungs. The turtle let out a great yell as the three floated helplessly away from the destroyed haven. Tho looked at Lien. His eyes apologized, but she wouldn’t accept it. They had come together, and live or die, they would do so with honor. She reached out for his hand and Tho reached out for Minh, in their last breath, closed their eyes, knowing they had done all they could.
Another arm reached from the deep, but this one held a sword, the sword, and the arm of Lady Trieu rose between them, cutting through the grotesque arms of time and obliterating them. As Tho lifted his gaze for one last look, Lady Trieu stood below them and blew with a torrent of force like an exploding volcano. The underwater current lifted the three through the depths of the lake as if they were rising on top of an ascending pillar. The current pulsed through the surface of the water and spewed the three on the western shore of Hoan Kiem Lake. Each of them felt the force of the shoreline push the water from their lungs. They coughed and sputtered like fish out of water, trying to acclimate to a new environment. Minh breathed first and jumped over to his mother’s side.
“Ma, are you alright?”
She opened her eyes and smiled as she placed her hands on his cheeks. She glanced over at Tho, still unresponsive on the ground. Minh pounced first and helped to turn him over. Lien was right behind him, and they lifted his head slightly while saying his name. He coughed several times and opened his eyes. He saw the two faces, alive and happy, over him.
“Mr. Tho, you’re all right!”
“Tho, we were worried about you.”
“Did you see what Lady Trieu did?” asked Minh. “She saved us. Do you think she’s going to help us?”
Tho’s face turned quickly from one of contentment to distress as a dark shadow appeared above the two faces. Minh and Lien turned around, gasping loudly as the dark one towered over them.
“You know what to do. Take them,” he ordered.
Swarms of Chinese patrolmen grabbed the three and bound, gagged, and blindfolded them. They had no time to scream or express their fear. They were all alone, each in the dark, separated into three different patrol vehicles. Captive.