Dragonwall (8 page)

“Thank you, Minister.” Ting smiled and followed Ju-Hai to the small, open building at the edge of the goldfish pond.

While the servants placed the chairs and poured the tea, Ting picked up the jar Ju-Hai had left on the white table. “Trigrams?” she asked curiously.

“A bauble I sometimes toy with,” the minister replied, looking away from the jar with practiced nonchalance.

Smiling playfully, Ting turned the jar over and spilled the sticks. “Tell me what they say.”

Ju-Hai gave Ting’s gift to Shei Ni for safekeeping. When he looked at the circle of sticks, he half-smiled in amusement. The minister did not need stick magic to tell him what the trigrams had revealed. “The pattern of the sea,” he said. “You are always shifting and impossible to predict. This makes you a powerful enemy and a dangerous friend.”

Shei Ni and the servants finished their work, bowed, and left the garden quietly.

Ting peered at the sticks, then looked at Ju-Hai flirtatiously. “Is there nothing of love in those patterns?”

The minister chuckled. “Not for me to read.”

Ting stepped closer. “Perhaps you should look again.”

Ju-Hai backed away and took his seat at the east end of the table. After a long sip of tea, he said, “Surely you did not wait all afternoon simply to dangle your lascivious web before an aging man?”

The beautiful mandarin sighed in exaggerated disappointment. The game between them was an old one. For fifteen years, Ting had been making herself available to Ju-Hai, and for fifteen years the Minister of State had deftly avoided an entanglement with her.

“I have been waiting much longer than one afternoon,” Ting replied, taking her seat at the other end of the table. “But you’re correct. I have little hope that you’ll come to your senses today. I’ve come to apologize for this morning’s mistake.”

Ju-Hai nodded, but remained silent. Now that they were discussing political affairs, his mind had shifted into an orderly, critical thought process. He hoped his silence would force Ting to disclose the true reason for her visit.

Ting lifted her teacup to her lips. After a small swallow, she continued speaking. “Of course, I don’t really know what my mistake was.”

Ju-Hai smiled, relieved that the Tigress did not know his greatest vulnerability. After a short pause, he answered Ting’s half-spoken question. “That should be obvious.”

Ting frowned at her mentor. “It isn’t.”

“It is a foolish wolf that growls at its master,” he said. “By suggesting that someone within the Mandarinate brought the barbarians down upon us, you have made many powerful enemies.”

Ting’s eyes narrowed. “True, but to anger you, my blunder must have threatened you personally.”

Ju-Hai smiled at his disciple with as much warmth as he could gather. “I’m disappointed, my dear. Don’t you realize how fond of you I am?”

Ting smirked, then her eyes grew soft and she ran a painted nail around the rim of her tea cup. “Why do you never show it?”

“I do,” the minister responded. “I have watched over your career very closely.”

The seductive mandarin sat up straight. “To what purpose?” she asked. “What have you gotten out of helping me?”

Her soft expression had become as hard as stone, and Ju-Hai knew that this question came from her heart. “What I have gotten,” he answered, “is a capable administrator who serves the empire well. That is the only payment I expect or have ever asked.”

Ting rolled her eyes in disbelief. Like so many other servants of the state, a lifetime in the imperial bureaucracy had exposed her to such corruption and self-serving incompetence that she automatically discounted such statements. Ju-Hai’s answer, however, had been sincere, though he would never convince Ting of that.

“Perhaps you speak the truth,” the Tigress said, looking away to show Ju-Hai that she didn’t believe he did. “Even so, you would never embarrass yourself before the emperor—not on my behalf, or anyone else’s. And considering that someone must have been feeding information to the spy the guards captured, it almost appears that you’re a traitor.”

The only reason Ju-Hai did not lose his temper was that he had already considered that same point. His outburst had come at the wrong time. Taken by itself, it appeared that the minister was trying to hide something. When he considered the spy and the map, even Ju-Hai could not deny that his behavior cast a pall of suspicion over him.

For several moments, Ting studied her mentor with hard demanding eyes. Finally, her mouth dropped open and she pointed an accusing finger at the minister. “That’s it! You are a spy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ju-Hai said evenly. If he thought she were serious, he would not be able to keep from shouting. However, Ju-Hai felt convinced that Ting was merely putting on an act. The accusation had been so dramatic and sudden that it seemed rehearsed.

Besides, if Ting believed him to be a spy, she would not make the mistake of accusing him while alone and inside the walls of his home.

As Ju-Hai expected, the Tigress followed her accusation with a demand. “If you’re not the spy, why the outburst? What are you hiding?”

“I am hiding nothing,” Ju-Hai lied.

“How can I believe that?” Ting responded angrily. “The evidence is—” She stopped in midsentence and looked around the garden. A moment later, she rose quickly and bowed, saying, “Please forgive me, Minister. I forget myself. Perhaps I should go.”

Her voice trembled with a fear Ju-Hai knew she did not feel. If Ting were truly afraid, she would appear angry and dangerous, not timid and apologetic.

“Yes, perhaps you should go,” the Minister of State replied. He poured himself some more tea and did not bother to rise.

“If you have that evidence you speak of, take it directly to the emperor.”

Ting hesitated, furrowing her smooth brow in confusion. Finally, she said, “But I couldn’t. I owe you—”

“If you believe me a traitor,” Ju-Hai interrupted, “you owe me nothing. Your duty is to present your evidence to the emperor.”

Ting exhaled wearily, then returned to her seat. “I don’t believe you’re a traitor, Minister, and I never did. But I am the Minister of State Security.”

Ju-Hai smiled with heartfelt warmth. “Understood, my dear. I expected nothing less.”

Ting sighed heavily and turned in her seat to look out over the goldfish pond. “The emperor and the other mandarins are already commenting on your suspicious behavior. What am I to say? That we had tea and that I have your assurance you remain faithful to Shou Lung?”

Ju-Hai shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “That won’t do.”

She looked at him with pleading eyes. “I can’t help you unless I know what you are hiding.”

“I am hiding nothing,” the elder minister responded. It was not difficult for him to lie, even to friends. He did it every day as a normal part of his duties. “You have my word.”

“Splendid,” she answered, rolling her eyes away from Ju-Hai’s. “I’ll sleep like the dragons tonight.”

For nearly a minute, Ting stared at the pond, watching the fat goldfish swim lazy circles. Finally, she looked back to her mentor. “If you’re not the spy, who is?”

“I don’t know,” Ju-Hai answered, shaking his head sadly. “But if my honor is to be saved, that is the question you must answer.”

Ting shifted forward in her chair. “I need some help.”

“Perhaps you could compare calligraphy?” Ju-Hai suggested. He lifted his teacup and looked at the table while he drank, as if the matter were of little consequence to him.

Ting shook her head. “I thought of that, but there are only pictures and numbers on the map. Anyone could have drawn it.”

Shei Ni entered the garden and approached the belvedere at a brisk pace. He seemed quite flustered, so Ju-Hai did not wait for the customary bow. “What is it, Shei Ni?”

“Minister Kwan,” he replied. “He insists upon seeing you right now. I told him you were unavailable, but—”

Ting quickly stood. “If I am to be your defender in the Mandarinate, it might be better if we were not observed having a tryst in your garden.”

Ju-Hai nodded, glad that Ting had made the suggestion. He was not anxious for her to hear anything that passed between him and the Minister of War. “Shei Ni will show you out—”

The servant shook his head. “Minister Kwan is already halfway through the house. The guards are stalling him, but they’re afraid to manhandle a mandarin.”

Eyeing Ting’s tight cheosong, Ju-Hai said, “I suppose climbing the garden wall is out of the question …”

She nodded vigorously.

“Very well,” Ju-Hai said, pointing at a hedge on the opposite end of the goldfish pond. It was close enough to the belvedere for Ting to overhear what was said, but Ju-Hai hoped to steer the conversation away from what he did not wish her to know. “Hide behind the shrubbery. I’ll deal with this quickly.”

No sooner had Shei Ni helped Ting behind the hedge than two of Ju-Hai’s household guards appeared at the arbor. They each held gleaming chiang-chuns, but were nevertheless backing away from a screaming Kwan Chan Sen. As they moved, they held their polearms in front of the old man and politely tried to explain that he had not yet been announced.

“Minister Kwan!” Ju-Hai called, quickly refilling the teacup that had been Ting’s until just a moment ago. “Won’t you please join me?”

The guards relaxed, then stepped aside. The ancient mandarin bustled over to the pavilion at such a frantic pace that Ju-Hai feared he would trip and injure himself.

“This is your fault!” the old man stammered, dropping heavily into his seat.

“What?” Ju-Hai asked, topping off his own teacup.

“Batu Min Ho,” Kwan replied. “My informants tell me the emperor intends to promote him to General of the Northern Marches!”

“How unfortunate,” Ju-Hai replied, feigning sympathy.

“The emperor hasn’t consulted me. He hasn’t consulted anyone!” the old man hissed.

Though Kwan Chan did not know it, what he said was not true. After hearing about the ingenious manner in which the young general had saved two thousand pengs, Ju-Hai had investigated Batu’s record.

What he had learned impressed him. Since Batu had been placed in command of the Army of Chukei, the small force had destroyed or chased away more than one thousand barbarian raiding parties, suffering only light casualties itself. Batu had even reclaimed some prime farmland from a tribe of vicious half-humans on the northern frontier. When the general’s father-in-law had arrived and described Batu’s barbarian heritage, Ju-Hai had suggested the young general as a good choice to lead the war against the Tuigan.

Of course, Ju-Hai had no intention of telling this to Kwan, for he always tried to avoid making enemies needlessly.

After allowing the milky-eyed old man to fume for a few moments, Ju-Hai said, “It’s the emperor’s will. We can do nothing except live with his decision.”

Kwan turned an angry frown on Ju-Hai. “We must make the Divine One change his mind, or that upstart from Chukei will have my seat in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.” Kwan paused and shook his wrinkled head sadly. “Imagine, a barbarian in the Mandarinate!”

“Come now, Minister,” Ju-Hai objected, frowning at the ancient mandarin. “Batu is hardly a barbarian—”

“How would you know?” Kwan asked, his voice even and reasonable despite his obvious anger. “I’ve seen our enemy close up. He looks like the barbarians, he smells like them, and he thinks like them!”

“Perhaps that is why the emperor chose him to lead the war,” Ju-Hai hazarded. “After all, to hunt a leopard, one must think like—”

“We are not talking about leopard hunts,” Kwan snapped. “We are talking about the Mandarinate—my seat in the Mandarinate.”

Kwan paused, then turned his milky eyes on Ju-Hai. “You are the First Left Grand Councilor,” the old man observed. “Use your influence with the emperor to get rid of this Batu Min Ho.”

Through Kwan’s mask of wrinkles, Ju-Hai could not tell whether the ancient mandarin was threatening him or pleading with him. “I’ll do what I can,” Ju-Hai lied.

Kwan studied his host for a long moment. Finally, the old man said, “No, you’ll do it. You said we had to crush the enemy quickly, before the emperor started to worry about the barbarians. So I tried, damn you. I’m an old man, too old to be roaming around the empire making war, but I tried.”

Kwan paused and pointed a yellow-nailed finger at Ju-Hai’s face. “It’s your turn. By tomorrow night, Batu Min Ho will be gone. He’ll be gone, or I’ll tell the emperor why the barbarians attacked Shou Lung.”

Ju-Hai ground his teeth, angered by the threat. He was also angry at himself for underestimating the old man’s acumen. With Kwan, lies would not work. The Minister of State knew he would have to resort to threats, even if it did mean Ting would overhear the whole sordid business of how this war started. There was nothing to be done about it.

“I’m not going to have Batu Min Ho removed,” Ju-Hai began.

Kwan’s baggy eyes opened wide in anger. He slammed his ancient fist down on the table so hard the teacups spilled. “Then you’re finished!” he spat.

“No,” Ju-Hai responded, righting his teacup and speaking in a calm voice. “No, I’m not. What are you going to tell the emperor? That I started this war myself? Don’t you think he’ll want to know where the assassin came from?”

“It was done at your request!” Kwan pointed out.

“Do you think he’ll care?” Ju-Hai demanded, taking pains to keep his voice even and polite. “We started this war together. It’s unfortunate that we can’t finish it. But if we can’t do it, we must find someone who can.”

Ju-Hai poured more tea for himself, but the pot ran out as he tried to refill Kwan’s cup. “We’re going to stand aside and let this Batu Min Ho kill barbarians,” the Minister of State said. “After he wins the war, if he wins the war, we’re going to welcome him into the Mandarinate. Undoubtedly, he will have earned the post.”

Ju-Hai sipped his tea, evaluating Kwan over the top of his cup. “Until then, instead of two more incompetent, corrupt bureaucrats executed for crimes against their offices, you and I will still be mandarins of the Shou Empire. What could be more fair than that?”

Kwan’s face turned from angry red to deep purple. He began to breathe in short puffs. For a moment, Ju-Hai hoped the old man was doing him the consideration of dying out of rage. At length, however, the old mandarin’s color returned to normal and he managed to stand.