The War of the Dragon Lady by John Wilcox

defences, Simon and Strouts had taken the precaution of burrowing a hole through their own wall, leading through to the nearest of the Yuan cloisters but leaving a thin pile of rubble as a temporary closure. With his marines, Fonthill began tearing at this barrier, throwing the bricks behind them. They had soon broken through and Simon directed two marines to stand as guards in the cloister. He heard a rattle of musketry from the roof of the Legation, showing that Jenkins and his men were doing their work, and he scrambled back to meet his wife, her face blackened by smoke, leading a line of boys, coolies and some of the Legation ladies all beginning to pass water along the line in an eclectic variety of receptacles.
    Alice handed him a brimming chamber pot.
    ‘Get back,’ he shouted. ‘Let the coolies take this end. It’s dangerous.’
    ‘Take the damned thing,’ she shouted back. ‘I’m not standing here all day ruining my hair in this smoke. Come along. Here’s another one.’
    Fonthill frowned in annoyance but quickly ordered his marines to extend the line through the gap and into the cloister. There they began throwing the water onto the flames creeping towards them along the shingles of the cloister’s low roof. For almost an hour they toiled, the line stretching some two hundred yards from well to the hole in thewall, the colourful dresses of the ladies interspersed with the dun-coloured tunics of the coolies and the shirts and shorts of the boys. Jenkins and his sharpshooters had done their work to protect the line and they slung their buckets and pots in comparative safety, but all of their efforts would have been in vain against the encroaching flames had not the wind changed. Suddenly, miraculously, it veered from the north to the east, blowing flames, sparks and smoke back towards the Hanlin Yuan itself. With a roar the old building went up in a pyre of flames.
    Fonthill brought back his marines and they walled up the hole again. Then he directed them to douse the western walls of the Legation buildings with water.
    At last, what was left of the Yuan collapsed in a shower of sparks. Simon became aware that Sir Claude was at his shoulder, his buttons sparkling somehow and his moustache still spiked amidst the smoke. ‘Well done, Fonthill,’ he said. ‘Good work. The Legation could have gone up in smoke and then we would all have been finished.’
    ‘Don’t thank me, sir.’ Simon nodded towards where the women, boys and coolies in the line were all slumped to the ground in exhaustion. ‘Thank them. And the wind.’ He looked behind him. ‘At least we’ve got a good field of fire in this direction now.’
    ‘Yes.’ The minister’s face was drawn. ‘I got your message, of course, and you were right. As soon as the blaze started, firing started all around the perimeter. The American and Russian barricades on the Tartar Wall were attacked directly. So this was more than just an attempt to burn us out, it was a diversion to attract men away from our line.’
    ‘Any breakthroughs?’
    ‘No. We held fast all the way around. But it is quite clear that the Dragon Lady is throwing her army into the battle now. Things are hotting up in more ways than one. Where, oh where, is that damned relief column?’
    Fonthill wiped a hand over his blackened face and then held it out to Alice, who now approached him. ‘Have no messages got through, sir?’
    ‘Not a damned thing … oh, forgive me, Mrs Fonthill.’ The minister took her hand and bowed over it, with highland courtesy. ‘Splendid work you did there, me dear. Way beyond the call of duty.’
    Alice frowned. ‘It was not that, Sir Claude. In these conditions the call comes to us all.’ Her frown changed to an ironic smile. ‘So we “feeble women” all play our part. We are all in this together.’
    ‘Quite so, dear lady. Quite so.’
    Alice shot a quick glance to Simon and then said, ‘May I ask you a question, Sir Claude?’
    ‘Of course, my