Daylight on Iron Mountain (26 page)

The young man looked down at this, horrified. ‘
Aiya…
’

‘
Aiya
indeed. But once started I could not help myself. I stood there, watching the old man, thinking to myself. What are his sons, after all, but troublemakers and bullies? And when they inherit…?’

‘Perish the thought.’

‘And yet what is to be done? We are his hands.’

‘And yet…’

Li Chao Ch’in sighed, then met his son’s eyes once more. ‘And yet…’

He hesitated, then, more businesslike. ‘We are to meet again, a week from now.’

‘To meet?’ Li Peng looked puzzled.

‘The Seven, I mean…’

‘Ah… then you mean to depose him?’

‘Depose him?’ It was Li Chao Ch’in’s turn to look horrified. Yet what else were they talking about if not that? Either they had to tolerate Tsao Ch’un’s behaviour or make him pay. And how else could they do that than by wresting power from his grasp?

It was unthinkable. After all these years of loyal service.

‘
Aiya
,’ he said quietly, conscious of how far he had come in speaking to his son. If anyone were listening…

He swallowed, bitter suddenly. Was that the only answer? To kill Tsao Ch’un? Was that the only way to wrest the power from him? Instinct said yes. For Tsao Ch’un would bow to no man. And if Tsao Ch’un, then sons and grandsons too. All trace of his family would need to be erased, for to leave a single shoot would be to sow the dragon’s teeth.

Could he do that? Was he ruthless enough?

He looked to Li Peng and seeing him thus, so tall and straight, he knew suddenly that he must. If not now, then some day soon. For he had seen the way the great lord stared at his sons – comparing them in mind, no doubt, to his own.

Him or us…

Li Chao Ch’in shivered then looked down.

‘Father? Are you all right?’

He smiled bleakly. It was where their conversation had begun.

Reed was in Ebert’s office just after seven, even as Ebert himself arrived.

‘Peter…? I thought you were in Pei Ching.’

‘I was. I got the early rocket back.’

‘Your meeting?’

‘Went well. I…’

Ebert walked round his desk and sat, then looked up at Reed again.

‘Well? What did they want?’

Reed took the folder from his case and handed it across, remaining standing while Ebert read it through, expecting to see his face light up at any moment. But he should have known – that wasn’t Wolfgang’s way.

‘Good,’ he said finally. ‘Your patient work paid off. But I want some changes.’

‘Changes?’

Ebert fixed him with a stare. ‘Yes, changes. I want us to renegotiate.’

‘But we can’t.’

‘There’s no such word.’ He shook the file at Reed. ‘This document… now that we know they’re interested… we rework it, page by page. Tighten it up. Make it more lucrative.’

‘But… they’re giving us what we wanted. You went through that contract yourself…’

Ebert almost –
almost
– smiled. ‘I did. But I didn’t think they’d bite. Now that they have…’ He sighed, then shook his head. ‘Don’t you see it, Peter? We’ve asked for too little.’

‘Too little? But it’s six billion
yuan
!’

‘And that’s not enough. How do I know that? Because if it was, they’d have made an issue of it. As it is…’

Reed stared at his boss a moment, then bowed his head. It was true. In his euphoric state he hadn’t seen it, but it was obvious.

‘You want me to go back to them?’

‘Are you up to it?’

Reed looked down a moment, then nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Good. But don’t get despondent. You’ve done a good job… so far. But the real hard work lies ahead. We need to see how much they really want this. How far they’re prepared to go to get it.’

‘And if they say no? If they take back what they’ve offered?’

‘They won’t.’

‘Then…?’

Ebert pushed the folder aside. ‘I’ll draft a new agreement. We’ll get it back to them by messenger this evening. Then you can fly in tomorrow night.’

Reed looked away. He felt awkward suddenly. ‘Don’t you think… well… doesn’t it seem a bit ungrateful?’

Ebert gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Ungrateful? Wake up! This is business, Peter, purely business.’

‘Master…’

Tsao Ch’un looked up blearily from where he sat, watching that morning’s news. ‘What is it now, Steward Ling? Is the girl ill?’

Ling did not look up, but lay there, face down where he had prostrated himself.

‘No, Master, the girl is fine. It is another matter.’

‘Another matter? This early?’ Tsao Ch’un’s face was sour. All he wanted to do was go back to bed.

‘It is someone to see you, Master.’

‘Someone…’ Tsao Ch’un stood unsteadily. He would have to take something for this. There was a pain in his head the like of which he hadn’t experienced for weeks. Not since he’d gone out on that hunting party with his eldest boy.

‘Who in hell’s name wants to see me this early in the morning?’

‘It is Ma Shao Tu, Master, he…’

But Tsao Ch’un didn’t want explanations. All he knew was that this Ma Shao fellow wasn’t someone whose name he was aware of. And what
should such a one be doing waking the Son of Heaven from his sleep?

‘Send him away!’ he bellowed. ‘No… throw him in the cells! How dare he!’

‘But Master…’

A pleading tone had entered Ling’s voice. Tsao Ch’un stared at him. It was unlike Ling to disturb him over nothings. Most unlike him. So maybe this was important. Only, who the fuck
was
this man?

One thing was sure – it had to be very important indeed to call upon his time in this manner. Even more so if Ling, who rarely let anyone into Tsao’s presence, was begging him to see the man.

He took a steadying breath. ‘Okay. Who is he? And why should I see him at this unearthly hour?’

Ling, who had been cringing, awaiting a surly kick from his Master, relaxed a little.

‘He has come from Tongjiang, Master. From Li Chao Ch’in’s household. He is a senior servant there. One of Li Chao Ch’in’s most trusted men. Only…’

Tsao Ch’un was suddenly alert. ‘What is his name again?’

‘Ma Shao Tu, Master.’

‘And what do we know of him?’

‘That he is who he says he is. And that he has worked for Li Chao Ch’in for thirty years now, since he was four years old.’

‘So why does he come here now, this…
loyal
man?’

‘He has news, Master. News of some bearing on matters. It seems there was a meeting of the Seven, after you were gone.’

Tsao Ch’un shrugged. It made perfect sense for there to be a meeting of his advisors. They were always having meetings.

‘So?’

‘It was a meeting about you, my Lord.’

Ma Shao Tu had been busy, tidying and dusting in one of the small ante-rooms that led off of Li Chao Ch’in’s study when the great men had come in, bristling with anger and bolting the doors behind them. Knowing that he ought not to be listening, he should have stepped out and declared himself, but his courage failed him, the moment had passed and all he could do was keep his presence secret.

Thus he had overheard everything.

Hearing Ma Shao Tu’s account of it left Tsao Ch’un in a rage. The sheer ingratitude they showed to him who had raised them so high! It was staggering! What would they have been without him? Nothing!

As Ma Shao Tu finished his account, knelt there before Tsao Ch’un, his head lowered, the great man let out a roar of rage. Lunging at the servant, he grasped him by the neck, holding him up and choking the life out of him before letting him fall.

Loyal men! Thus would he deal henceforth with loyal men!

‘Steward Ling!’

Ling lay there trembling, unable to keep his eyes off the dead man’s blackened face. ‘Y-y-yes, Master…?’

‘Have Colonel Feng come at once. I have a task for him.’

Tsao Ch’un’s anger had turned to a cold, slow smoulder by the time he reached Shaoyang. On the flight he had decided on what he would do. Now, as the palace came slowly into view among the surrounding mountains, misted and grey and timeless, he felt at last the hollowness of disappointment.

He had expected more of them than this.

He had come here, to Fan Chang’s home in Hu-nan, unannounced. As the seven cruisers made their descent, Tsao Ch’un, looking out from the leading craft, could see how the servants of the house rushed this way and that in an effort to make ready for his unexpected visit.

Tsao Ch’un’s face was hard and brutal. Fan Chang was the eldest of the Seven and his most trusted man. When he had needed help, back in their darkest days, when events were yet in the balance, it was Fan Chang who had come to him and offered his fealty, Fan Chang who had helped forge that tight little clan of helpers and advisors who had taken the great weight from their Master’s shoulders and shared it out among themselves.

But that was long past. Times had changed. As indeed had Fan Chang and his fellows. They had met in secret…

Every time Tsao Ch’un pictured it he shivered with indignation. Felt that selfsame rage that had made him kill Li Chao Ch’in’s servant.

Loyal men
. Tsao Ch’un grimaced, hurt to the core by the thought that those
he had trusted most had turned against him. For what else was it? To meet in secret to debate his future?

His pilot slowed, heading for the landing pad, but Tsao Ch’un leaned across him, pointing away towards the great green space at the centre of the palace.

‘No! Put me down there!’ he ordered. ‘Right there, in the middle of the lawn!’

Fan Chang knew at once what was wrong. For Tsao Ch’un to turn up unannounced, without a moment’s warning, accompanied by six armed cruisers, it could mean one thing alone – ill fortune for his house.

He had been in his children’s quarters, coaching his three youngest in their letters, helping them perfect their brush strokes, when word came of Tsao Ch’un’s approach.

As he waited for his servants to bring another robe – one of cyan blue, decorated with tiny golden butterflies – he gave the order for his family to leave, sending his wives and sons off into hiding. He might well be wrong. Tsao Ch’un might be here on other business, but he doubted it. There could only be one reason why Tsao Ch’un had come, and that was if he’d heard about their meeting yesterday, after the ceremony.

And if he had, then they were
all
in the gravest trouble.

As he kissed Fan Peng, his eldest wife, goodbye, Fan Chang wondered if he would ever see her sweet face again. Would Tsao Ch’un dare to take them on? To strip all seven of their power and demote them?

The Tsao Ch’un of old would not have blinked before doing so. He was a tiger of a man, unafraid of anything or anyone. But the Tsao Ch’un of old was gone, replaced by an old reprobate who did not know how to behave in decent company. So who knew how he’d react?

Did the tiger still have teeth?

As he pulled on his ceremonial coat, Fan Chang caught a sight of himself in the full-length mirror opposite and sighed. He was too old for this. His son, Li, should have taken over years ago. And now the years had caught up with him.

‘Come,’ he said, looking to his stewards and advisors, who had gathered in the room with him, ‘let us go and greet our Master.’

*

As the elite troops he had brought secured the palace, disarming any of Fan Chang’s men they found, Tsao Ch’un waited in the craft.

It would not do to lose his life simply through a moment’s carelessness.

Fan Chang and his men had gathered on the steps below the lawn, heads bared, bowed low, waiting for him to emerge.

Tsao Ch’un was breathing heavily. ‘You cunts!’ he muttered, glaring at them through the bulletproof glass, his face a mask of hatred. ‘You lying fucking cunts!’

How easily they played at being honest, loyal men, when all the while they despised him and wished him gone – he who had forged this world of peace and plenty.

How dare they even think of it!

Tsao Ch’un had ordered the palace’s communications system jammed when he was half an hour out. It was a crude thing to do, he knew, for the rest of the Seven might think it odd that Shaoyang was silent. They might guess that it was his doing, but it was better than letting Fan warn the others. While they were in the dark he had the advantage. They might guess, but they would not know for sure. And not knowing would make them hesitate before acting, for the habit of obedience was not easily surrendered.

Not that he had any kind of plan. For now all he did was follow the burning fuse of his anger to see where it led. He was not even willing to think of consequences, only that someone should pay.

So why not Fan? Fan, who should have spoken out for him in Council. Fan who had professed to be his servant, loyal until death.

Once more Tsao Ch’un shivered with anger at the thought. His hands ached from where he had been clenching them. So too his jaws. He wanted to tear and rip and gouge – a feeling he’d not experienced in years.

As Colonel Feng returned to say that the palace was secured, Tsao Ch’un pressed the door release and even as they hissed apart, jumped down, not waiting for the ramp to be lowered.

‘Fan Chang!’ he bellowed, striding towards where the old man waited, head bowed among his retainers. ‘You fucking insect! You lying fucking turd! I’ll have your guts, you cunt!’

Fan Chang’s head came up, a look of shocked surprise in his eyes, and
then he sank to his knees, his head almost touching the ground.

Barely a body’s length from where Fan Chang knelt, Tsao Ch’un stopped, panting from his efforts, his face set into a snarl of rage.

‘This
meeting
,’ he began, poison dripping from the words. ‘This fucking
meeting
that you called… Is it true?’

Fan Chang groaned, then gave the slightest nod of his head.

‘
Answer me!
’ Tsao Ch’un yelled, his eyes almost popping from his face. ‘Is it
true
?’

Fan’s answer was almost a whisper. ‘Yes, my Lord… only…’

‘Only nothing! You
dare
discuss
me
? Dare criticize
me
, your Lord and Master?’