Authors: Troy Denning
“That doesn’t matter now,” Wu said, laying a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder. “These people will search for you much harder than you look when you play games. Are you sure this is a good place to hide?”
They glanced at each other uncertainly. Finally, Ji said, “It’s very dark and small.”
“Good. You must go there quickly. Don’t come out until Xeng, Qwo, or I tell you it’s safe.”
Wu kissed each of her children, then sent them away.
They had barely left the hall before Qwo’s voice echoed across the courtyard. “I insist, Minister Ting. Lady Wu is ill. She is not receiving visitors.”
“All the more reason I must see her,” Ting replied tersely. “Now stand aside.”
“I refuse,” Qwo replied.
“Guards!” Ting roared.
The sound of a short scuffle followed, then twenty boots clattered across the stone courtyard. Wu adjusted her cover so that it concealed her bloody bandage, then prepared to receive Ting.
She did not wait long. Within moments, a soldier grabbed a wall panel and thrust it roughly aside. Two green-armored guards stepped into the sleeping room, their weapons held at the ready. Ting came next, followed by an angry Qwo.
“What is the meaning of this?” Wu demanded, scowling at the mandarin. “Can’t you see that I’m ill?”
“Please forgive this intrusion,” Ting said curtly, obviously unconcerned with whether Wu forgave it or not. The minister turned to a guard. “Uncover her.”
The soldier frowned at being asked to invade a noblewoman’s privacy. Nevertheless, he did as ordered.
Ting pointed at the freshly changed bandage, which was already spotted with new blood. “So you were the one,” she said. “How disappointing.”
“What do mean?” Wu demanded.
“Last night, a spy broke into my house and stole an important state document,” Ting said, stepping toward the bed. “This spy killed a guard on the way out, but not before being wounded. As we can see, you are wounded.”
“This?” Wu asked, indicating her bandage. “Qwo and I were cutting some silk. Her knife slipped.”
“Not likely,” Ting replied. “Save me the trouble of searching your house. Return the document and no harm will come to you or your family.”
Even if the ebony tube had been in her possession, Wu would not have returned it. She had already seen that Ting was an accomplished liar, and the minister could not afford to spare the life of anyone who knew the truth about her.
In response to Ting’s demand, Wu simply shrugged her shoulders. “What document?” she asked.
She had decided to feign innocence, but not because she hoped to fool Ting. If Ting’s guards were not part of the mandarin’s plot, and Wu suspected that they were not, Ting would have to go through the pretense of firmly establishing Wu’s guilt before causing the noblewoman any harm. That would take time, and the longer Wu could stall, the better the chance that Xeng would return with help.
Xeng was not having much success, however. He stood at the gateway to the Square of Heavenly Delight, in the center of which rose the Hall of Supreme Harmony. His medallion remained activated and he was still perfectly camouflaged. Unfortunately, the pendant’s magic only worked for a certain amount of time and it would soon fade. He would not be able to reactivate it for at least a day.
The emperor’s guards stood shoulder-to-shoulder around the Hall of Supreme Harmony, their weapons drawn. The great square surrounding the tower was filled with the green-armored guards of the Ministry of State Security. Xeng did not doubt that Ting had arranged the tight security measures, probably by claiming to have discovered a plot against the Divine One’s life. Still, considering the evidence he carried in the ebony tube, Xeng thought he would attain an audienceproviding he could reach the chamberlain.
To do that, however, the steward had to slip past Ting’s guards. Xeng had no doubt their orders were to detain or kill anyone attempting to see the Son of Heaven. Still, he had to try, for Wu’s life clearly depended upon his success.
There had been a time when the steward would not have cared about Wu’s safety. At the age of fifteen, a friend had remarked on his uncanny resemblance to Tzu Hsuang, and Xeng had finally realized why the lord took so much interest in his well-being. Instead of being thankful for Hsuang’s attention and love, though, Xeng had grown resentful and bitter because his true lineage would never be acknowledged. Nevertheless, Wu had treated him with nothing but respect and kindness, tolerating his snide remarks with an easy-going grace that only infuriated him further.
Xeng had remained hostile for nearly five years, until his own mother finally grew so tired of his attitude that she asked him to leave the Hsuang castle. It had been Wu, the object of so much of his enmity, who had interceded on his behalf and asked Qwo to reconsider. Though Wu had not said as much, it had been clear that she realized their relationship and did not want to see harm come to her half-brother. After that, Xeng’s attitude had reversed itself. Wu had subtly acknowledged his lineage and hereditary rights even more than his own mother. As a result, he was not about to allow any harm to come to his half-sister now.
Xeng stepped forward, moving slowly to take maximum advantage of his magic camouflage. Though he often used his dragon medallion to spy upon his father’s enemies, the steward had never before attempted to sneak past so many armed men.
In the next minute, he advanced thirty steps and came to the fringe of Ting’s troops. They stood at attention in small units of ten, each formation turned to face a different section of the park and separated by ten feet. Xeng selected the two groups closest to him. He slipped forward ever so slowly, carefully watching his footing so he did not trip or disturb a loose stone. Though his heart beat like a hammer and his panicked lungs craved air, he forced himself to breathe in small, even breaths.
Nevertheless, on several occasions a sentry squinted or shook his head as Xeng moved. Each time, the steward froze and did not move again until the guard looked away.
Finally, disaster struck. Two guards noticed him simultaneously.
As the one on the left rubbed his eyes, the one on the right asked, “Did you see something?”
“A blur,” the other responded.
Xeng knew he was in trouble. He turned and, heedless of how easy it would be to see him, rushed toward the gate. The two guards shouted an alarm, then ran after his hazy form.
Well-practiced in escaping pursuit while camouflaged, Xeng did not panic. He suddenly stopped and dropped to his belly. A moment later, he slowly crawled a short distance back toward the Hall of Supreme Harmony and did not move. The soldiers began yelling in confusion, issuing contradictory reports of his whereabouts.
Xeng remained on his stomach for several moments, considering his next move. Ting’s troops clearly wanted to capture him, for over a hundred of them ran about the square, wildly swinging their polearms at the air. As the steward studied his pursuers, it became clear that they were more concerned with preventing him from reaching the Hall of Supreme Harmony than with catching him. The largest number moved to form a wall between him and his objective. Behind Ting’s guards, the emperor’s troops watched the square with interest, but did not budge from their assigned posts.
Two units began moving toward the gate, trying to cut off Xeng’s escape route. Realizing he had no chance of reaching the emperor alive, the steward reluctantly decided to flee.
Xeng stood and ran along the wall, away from the gate. When the troops noticed him, he dropped to his belly again, then slowly crawled toward the gate. He had failed in his mission, he thought, but all was not lost. He still had the ebony tube, and Wu would be able to develop another plan for delivering it to the Divine One.
But Wu was in desperate need of the emperor’s help at that very moment. She lay crumpled on the floor, where Ting’s troops had dumped her when they began searching for the stolen document. Qwo sat beside her mistress, and Wu’s head now rested in the old servant’s lap.
In the space of a few minutes, Wu’s house had been reduced to a shambles. Even with a hundred men searching the compound, the troops from the Ministry of State Security had found nothing, not even Ji and Yo. Ting Mei Wan angrily paced back and forth, forcing her personal escort of twenty soldiers to stand crowded together at the edge of the chamber.
“Where is it?” Ting demanded for perhaps the hundredth time.
“I have no idea what you want,” Wu gasped, also for perhaps the hundredth time.
“Liar!” Ting responded. “My patience is at an end.” She turned to two guards, then pointed at Qwo. “Take her.”
Wu forced herself to sit up. “No!”
Two guards seized Qwo by the arms and dragged her to Ting’s side.
“She knows nothing!” Wu said.
Ting studied Wu with narrowed eyes. “Tell me who does,” she countered.
Qwo spat in the minister’s face. “Tell this traitor nothing!”
A soldier quickly took a cloth off Wu’s night cabinet, then gave it to Ting. Staring at the old maidservant, the mandarin slowly wiped the spittle off her brow. In a calm voice, she said, “Kill this woman.”
The guards blanched, but one dutifully drew a ten-inch pi shou. The dagger glinted ominously in the morning sunlight.
“Wait!” Wu yelled. She was barely able to force the words from her throat. Qwo’s entreaty and the guards’ reluctance had given her one last idea.
Addressing the soldiers, Wu said, “We’re not the traitors; Ting is.” Her voice quivered with stress and fatigue. “The document she’s looking for is evidence of her treachery.”
A veteran with a missing ear frowned and looked to Ting. The mandarin appeared momentarily stunned and confused, but she recovered quickly. “If what you say is true,” the minister said, “produce the document.”
“Don’t!” Qwo urged, feebly trying to pull free of her captors. “My life is worth nothing.”
Ting and the soldiers turned to Wu expectantly. The noblewoman considered revealing where Xeng had gone. If the treacherous minister realized she was defeated, perhaps she would see no use in harming an old woman. Unfortunately, Ting did not seem like the type of woman who gave up easily.
Wu shook her head.
“Kill the servant,” Ting ordered. As she spoke, she did not take her eyes off Wu.
The guard holding the pi shou obeyed without hesitation. Qwo let out a terrible, woeful scream, then quivered as the last traces of life fled her body. The guard twisted the dagger and plunged it farther in to finish the job. Finally, he withdrew the pi shou and allowed the old woman’s body to slump to the floor.
Ting turned back to Wu. “Now, will you”
She was interrupted by sobbing children. “Where is that coming from?” the minister demanded of nobody in particular.
A guard kneeled and put his ear to the floor. “From beneath the house.”
Ting pointed at the floor. “Get them!” she ordered. “Perhaps they’ll persuade this traitor to confess.”
Several guards rushed outside, and several more used their weapons to begin prying up floorboards.
“They’re just children!” Wu pleaded. “Leave them alone!”
“Nothing would please me more,” Ting replied. “I have no wish to injure a child. Their fate, however, is in your hands.”
Wu crawled into a kneeling position, ignoring the agony in her midsection. “I won’t allow you to hurt Ji or Yo,” she warned.
“Then tell me where you’ve hidden my paper!” Ting shouted.
They stared at each for several moments, Wu breathing slowly and evenly, gathering her remaining energy to defend her children. Several guards moved into defensive positions to either side of Ting.
Wu knew now that the minister intended to kill her whether or not she gave up the document. She could accept her fate because she had no other choice. The noblewoman was not ready to sacrifice her children’s lives, however, not even for the sake of the empire. Fortunately, she could think of two ways to save them. Only one involved giving Ting what she wanted.
After prying up the fifth plank, a guard said, “Here they are.”
He reached below the floor and extracted Yo. She was curled into a stout little ball, covered with dirt and sobbing loudly. The soldier passed her to the veteran with the missing ear, then reached into the opening a second time. He screamed and cursed loudly.
“He bit me!” the guard snapped, holding his hand.
“What do you expect?” asked the veteran. He set Yo aside, then stuck his head and shoulders below the floor. “Come here, little tiger!”
Yo took advantage of the opportunity to scurry over to her mother. Without looking away from Ting, Wu guided her daughter to her side. She continued to breathe evenly and steadily, focusing her mind on what she intended to do.
The guard emerged with Ji a moment later. Tears and dirt streaked the boy’s face, but his expression remained determined and angry. He reached out and raked at his captor’s face with his fingers, but his arms were too short to reach.
Ting looked away from Wu, settling her gaze on Ji. “Which shall it be?” she asked. “Your sonor the document?”
“Neither, traitor!” Wu yelled, releasing the store of energy she had been building.
The noblewoman’s wound reopened as she sprang forward, but she felt no pain. Her thoughts, her spirit, and her body were focused only on one thing: reaching Ting.
Wu moved so quickly that she took all but three guards by surprise. The first stepped in front of her, his polearm held across his body like a staff. Wu stiffened her index and middle fingers into the secret sword position, then drove them into the man’s throat. His larynx popped, and he collapsed, dropping his weapon and gasping for breath.
The next guard swung his chiang-chun at Wu’s knees. She leaped into the air, catching the soldier simultaneously with a camel kick to the groin and a ram’s fist to the nose. As he finished the swing, he collapsed into a twisting mass of groaning flesh.
Wu was not so lucky with the third guard. When she descended from her jump, he stepped forward and jabbed, using his weapon like a lance. Wu tried to knock the blade aside with a crane’s wing block, but the guard was a strong man and held the shaft in place. The blade slipped between the noblewoman’s ribs and punctured her lung.