Dragonwall (16 page)

A long pause followed, and Wu realized Kwan’s rhetorical question had made an impression.

Ting Mei Wan came to the kneeling mother’s rescue. “In all fairness, Divine One,” she said, “General Batu’s wife is reputed to have skill in the art of kung fu.”

Kwan scoffed, but Wu breathed a sigh of relief. When State Security troops had been assigned to the Batu household, Ju-Hai had made a point of saying that he controlled Ting. Apparently, he had not been lying.

After a moment’s pause, the emperor said, “These children must be tired. Perhaps it would be better if they returned to their home.”

Ju-Hai signaled to two State Security guards, but Ji stepped boldly forward. “I want to stay,” he said.

“Of course you do,” the Divine One replied patiently. “But I am the emperor, and you must do what I say. Is that not true?”

Ji looked to his mother’s kneeling form, then to Ju-Hai. The minister nodded to indicate that what the emperor said was, indeed, correct. Dropping his gaze to the floor, Ji said simply, “Yes.”

“Good,” the Divine One replied. “Take your sister and go home with these soldiers. Your mother will be there when you wake in the morning.”

The reassurance did nothing to relax Wu. From what she had heard, the emperor often said one thing and did another.

The guards came into Wu’s field of vision, and she watched them take her children’s hands and turn away. Both Ji and Yo looked after their mother with sad eyes. Wu wanted to kiss and hug them, but she had not yet been given permission to rise and dared not risk offending the emperor.

After the children were gone, the emperor said, “Lady Wu, please stand.”

Wu stiffly did as asked. Her body, unaccustomed to the abuse of kneeling for so long, protested with pain. “My gratitude, Divine One,” she said, bowing.

“What happened in the Virtuous Consort’s garden?” the emperor asked, his enigmatic eyes fixed on her face.

“It was as Ji said,” she replied. “He and Yo saw a dark figure. I climbed the willow tree in an attempt to capture him.”

“You are an intelligent woman,” Kwan said, shaking his white-haired head in skepticism. “Too intelligent to do something so foolish.”

“I did not consider it foolish,” she countered, purposefully neglecting to address the minister by his proper title. “My husband and father are both away fighting the barbarians, and we all know there are spies in the summer palace. These spies would like nothing better than to see the emperor’s armies destroyed, making me both a widow and an orphan in a short period. Given the chance to capture one of those spies, I think it would have been foolish to let the man escape, don’t you?”

Kwan looked from Wu toward the emperor. “Perhaps,” he said, “if your husband is truly fighting the barbarians, and not rejoining his ancestral relations.”

Wu decided to ignore Kwan. As her husband’s political enemy, the old man was clearly more interested in discrediting Batu than in finding the spy. Instead, she turned her attention to the emperor himself. “Divine One, while it is true that my husband and his army have disappeared, anyone who claims Batu Min Ho has betrayed Shou Lung is lying.”

“Surely, you can prove what you say,” Kwan objected, moving to the edge of his chair with a menacing glint in his eye.

“I could,” she responded, “but not while there are spies roaming the summer palace. I will not endanger my husband and the empire so needlessly.”

“Lady Wu, Minister Ju-Hai believes in General Batu without reservation, and so do I,” said Ting Mei Wan. “Yet, Minister Kwan has met your husband on several occasions, a privilege that few of us have been afforded. His bad opinion carries a great deal of influence within the summer palace. Is there nothing you can say that would prove your husband’s loyalty?”

Wu hesitated. By now, it might be safe to disclose that the provincial armies had left disguised as merchant cargo, but Wu doubted that the revelation would quiet the court gossip. Without knowing her husband’s entire plan, suspicious minds would simply assume that Batu had sailed away with the army instead of attacking with it. Worse, someone might realize that he was going up the Shengti to cut off the barbarians’ advance.

After several moments of consideration, Wu said, “No. I will say nothing.”

“You must be able to tell us something,” Ju-Hai pressed.

Wu shook her head. “No.”

Kwan smiled malevolently. “You are protecting your husband, no doubt?”

Wu nodded, giving the old man an icy stare. “Exactly.”

“An admirable reason,” Kwan said, turning to the emperor with a smirk on his lips. “From whom are you protecting him?”

“From you,” Wu answered angrily. “And from the spy—if you aren’t one in the same.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Wu chastised herself for letting anger dictate what she said. Her father had often told her that such lapses only demonstrated lack of self-control and betrayed the speaker’s weaknesses.

Kwan lifted his wrinkled brow in shock and anger. Ju-Hai and Ting grimaced. Behind Wu, the guards rustled expectantly, ready to take her into custody.

The emperor frowned. “Lady Wu, you cannot say such things.”

“Forgive me, Divine One,” she answered, barely keeping the anger out of her voice. “But has Minister Kwan not called my husband a traitor, me a child-deserter, and my son a liar? Perhaps it is inappropriate to take offense at an old man’s words, but I cannot be blamed for defending my family’s honor.”

Ju-Hai took her by the arm. “Please, Wu, remember to whom you are speaking.”

“I will,” she replied, bowing her head to the emperor.

For several moments, the Divine One stared at Wu in open astonishment. Finally, in a carefully controlled voice, he said, “I see where your son comes by his brazenness, Lady Wu. You are lucky that I am fair, for I will not take your outburst into account in making my decision.”

The Son of Heaven looked from Wu to Kwan, then back to Wu again, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “You are confident that your husband will defeat these barbarians, Lady Wu?”

“I am,” she replied, meeting his gaze.

“Good,” the emperor said sharply. “Until that time, you and your family are confined to your house.”

Wu did not flinch at the command. The Divine One was simply formalizing what she already knew to be true. She was a hostage guaranteeing her husband’s loyalty.

To Wu’s surprise, the emperor turned to Kwan next. “Minister Kwan, I am sure Lady Wu finds the constant presence of your pengs an insult to her family’s dignity. You will remove them.”

Kwan’s jaw dropped. “How will we guarantee—”

The Divine One raised his hand, and the old man fell silent. “Minister Ting’s soldiers will guard the Batu household,” the Son of Heaven declared.

Kwan frowned, but did not object.

The emperor was not finished. He turned to Ting Mei Wan. “Perhaps you should turn your efforts toward finding the man Wu saw in the Virtuous Consort’s garden.”

Ting bowed her head. “Of course, Divine One.” Looking at Wu, the minister said, “I shall start immediately, if Lady Wu can describe what she saw.”

“With pleasure,” Wu replied, happy to have the conversation turned away from Batu and herself. “I didn’t see much, just a man wearing a black samfu. It looked as if he intended to hide until dusk, then climb out on a limb overhanging the outer wall. When I saw him, he returned the way he had come and climbed over the garden’s inner wall.”

“Why would he go to the trouble of climbing over the outer wall? Why wouldn’t he simply leave by one of the gates?” Minister Kwan asked. His voice was devoid of any rancor, but Wu did not doubt the old man was still hoping to cast doubt on her story.

“It is obvious the venerable minister has not left the palace recently,” Ting answered, a proud smile on her lips. “My guards are stationed at all exits. They have orders to search everyone who enters or leaves the palace, the mandarins, even myself, included. The spy must have had something he couldn’t be caught with.” Ting turned her attention back to Wu. “What did this spy look like?”

“His face was wrapped in a black scarf,” Wu said, closing her eyes in an attempt to recall every detail. “He was very slender and small, more a woman’s size than a man’s.”

“How do you know it was a man?” the emperor asked.

Wu paused, remembering the fragrant scent she had smelled when she climbed into the tree. It had seemed so familiar, and now she realized why. She had smelled the scent many times before, when visiting the wives and daughters of her father’s peers. The smell was jasmine blossom. Vain women enjoyed rubbing the flower over their bodies as a type of perfume.

Finally, Wu answered the emperor’s question. “I don’t know that it was a man. In fact, now that you mention the possibility, it seems likely the spy was a woman.”

Ting frowned and started to say something, but the emperor cut her off. “What else can you tell us?” he demanded. “You must remember everything.”

Along with the two sergeants commanding the guards who had been watching her, Wu spent the next twenty minutes answering questions about the incident in the Garden of the Virtuous Consort. At length, it became apparent that nothing more would be learned by continuing the interrogation. The guards had seen nothing but Wu falling out of the tree. The Chief Warder of the Imperial Armory in the Department of Palace Services was summoned and asked to examine the black rope recovered from the scene. He reported that any officer could have taken it out of the armory and no special note would have been taken of the fact. Wu could add little to her description, aside from saying she believed it likely that the figure had been a woman.

The only thing she did not report was the scent of jasmine that had convinced her the spy was female. A whiff of perfume could be interpreted as flimsy evidence for such an assertion, and she did not want to give Kwan another chance to cast doubt on her story.

Finally, the emperor said, “We can’t determine the infiltrator’s identity from what we have learned tonight. However, with the aid of the heavens, we will soon catch him—or her. Until then, we will refrain from any further political bickering and concentrate our energies upon finding this spy—” The Divine One glanced sternly at Kwan, and then Wu “—and upon teaching our children better manners than our parents taught us.”

With that, the emperor rose and walked into the darkness behind the throne. His servants followed with their torches. A few paces later they all disappeared, stepping through a hidden doorway reserved for the Divine One and his attendants.

As soon as the emperor was gone, Minister Kwan furrowed his thousand wrinkles in spite and stared at Wu for several moments. When she did not flinch, the old man rose and briskly left the hall, his guards following close behind. Ju-Hai was the next to leave. He turned to Wu and clasped her hands. “You are a very lucky woman, my dear,” he said. “Your punishment for speaking against Kwan so harshly would have been much greater if the emperor were not so fond of Batu.”

“Fond?” Wu said indignantly. “Having him investigated for treason is fondness?”

Ju-Hai nodded. “When the danger is so great, the emperor cannot let his personal feelings interfere with caution. He must be suspicious of everyone and everything.”

Wu shook her head sadly. “Thank you for trying to comfort me,” she said. “But even I can see that the rumors have had their effect on the Divine One.”

Ju-Hai sighed. “As long as I have any influence with the emperor, you need not worry about your husband’s reputation.”

“You are a true friend, Minister,” Wu said, bowing to Ju-Hai. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you—”

The minister shook his head. “Think nothing of it. What I do, I do for the good of the empire. Ting will take you home. I’ll visit when I can.”

After Ju-Hai left, Ting Mei Wan broke into a fit of chuckling. Wu continued to stand in the middle of the floor, frowning in puzzlement. Finally, she asked, “What’s so funny?”

Ting stopped laughing. “You and your son,” she said. “I’ve never heard anyone speak to a mandarin like that. I thought you were trying to choke Kwan on his own anger!”

“The thought hadn’t occurred to me,” Wu said, wishing that she possessed such a cunning mind. “I’ll remember it in case the opportunity arises again.” She paused to let the subject drop, then bowed to Ting. “I also want to thank you for your support, Minister.”

Ting grew appropriately serious, then stood and returned the bow. “Minister Chou has done a great deal for me. When he calls for support, offering it is the least I can do.”

The mandarin walked to Wu’s side. “Now, tell me how Batu disappeared with five provincial armies! What can he be planning?”

Wu caught the whiff of a familiar scent and was reminded of her father’s admonishment to trust no one. Consciously changing the subject, she asked, “How will I ever keep Ji and Yo happy inside that little house?”

Ting chuckled at the obvious tactic and took Wu’s arm. “You are careful, aren’t you?”

As the mandarin started toward the exit, Wu quietly inhaled. There was no mistaking the fragrance. The Minister of State Security smelled of jasmine blossoms.

Along with his aide and the twenty-four nobles under his command, Tzu Hsuang stood atop a long bluff. The bluff overlooked a shallow valley that, in some primordial time, had once served as the bed of a river nearly a half-mile wide. All that remained of the river now was a deep, slow-moving brook that meandered through three hundred acres of barley fields.

On the opposite side of the valley sat the town of Shihfang. Like all Shou municipalities, Shihfang was enclosed by a defensive barrier. Little more than a ten-foot wall of packed yellow earth, the barrier was broken only where towers flanked the single gate. The town was unusual in that it had been built on high ground, atop a bluff similar to the one upon which Hsuang and his subordinates stood. Wisps of gray smoke drifted out of the few chimneys that rose above the wall. From one bell tower came the steady, measured clanging of the town’s single warning bell.

Hsuang did not see a reason for the sounding of the alarm. Shihfang remained untouched and there was no sign of impending attack. Nevertheless, refugees were pouring out of the hamlet as if the place had already fallen. The old noble did not understand why. As far as his scouts could tell, there was not a barbarian within twenty miles. Still, there had to be a reason for what he saw.