Taming Poison Dragons (52 page)

His Excellency Wen Po will be heaven’s witness.’

‘As you say,’ said the Chief Judge.

Emboldened the lawyer asked: ‘Your Excellency, do you know this Yun Cai of Wei?’

‘I do.’

‘You know him as a notorious scoundrel and liar, do you not?’

Wen Po frowned, seemed about to speak, then thought better of it.

‘This Yun Cai was notorious as a coward and slanderer in Pinang, was he not?’ repeated the lawyer.

I glanced at Wen Po’s unhealthy face. To my surprise, his eyes had turned my way and met my own. For a long second we surveyed each other.

‘I could not call him a coward,’ he said, reluctantly.

‘But a scoundrel, yes?’ demanded the lawyer, quickly.

‘Whose malicious testimony bears no more weight than a flickering adder’s tongue? A jealous, malicious man only concerned with furthering his own interests. So much so that he has constructed a false tale of finding certain scrolls in Pinang. A proven liar, is it not so, sir?’

Wen Po shrugged.

‘He may have found some scrolls for all I know. I did not keep watch on him from dawn till dusk.’

The court murmured. Lord Xiao’s lawyer narrowed his eyes.

‘Sir, he is saying you ordered him into dangerous places at your revered cousin’s behest. The court would welcome your confirmation that he lies.’

Wen Po sighed.

‘Everywhere is dangerous during a battle,’ he said. ‘I must say that Yun Cai did not act like a coward. Perhaps he was a coward inside. I cannot say whether that is true. How may one read a man’s heart except by his actions?’

Suddenly the Lawyer Yuan Chu-Sou was on his feet.

‘Your Excellency,’ he said. ‘One might almost conclude from your words that Yun Cai was, how can I put it,
brave
?’

Wen Po licked his lips, cornered by questions.

‘I cannot call him a coward,’ he repeated, doggedly.

Yuan Chu-Sou seized the advantage.

‘Why do you say so, sir? I beg you to explain.’

‘Because,’ replied Wen Po. ‘Because he acquitted himself well. Damn it! He showed more spirit than some of my officers.’

Again the on-lookers muttered amongst themselves.

This time the judges did not stop them.

‘A brave man may still be a scandalous liar,’ interjected Lord Xiao’s lawyer. ‘There are countless precedents.’

‘Of course, of course,’ replied Wen Po.

‘And that is true of Yun Cai, is it not?’

Again his witness looked uncomfortable.

‘It depends what you refer to,’ he said. ‘If you mean, did Yun Cai tell me lies, I have to say, I do not know of any.

But that does not mean he did not tell lies.’

‘We can be sure he is telling a lie when he says he found the scrolls in Pinang, can we not?’ insisted the lawyer, desperately.

It was strange to hear an advocate berating his own witness, almost embarrassing, like watching an honourable man lose face. The Chief Judge raised his hand. Perhaps he, too, found the exchange uncomfortable.

‘What’s your point? Be quick with it.’

The lawyer flushed.

‘My point, Ineffable Sirs, is that His Excellency has come here, despite grievous ill-health, to contradict Yun Cai’s claim that the scrolls are genuine documents.’

The Chief Judge looked across at Wen Po.

‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘We’ve known each other a long time.

Did we not enter the Vermilion Gates together when we were both young men? Wen Po, I ask you, is that why you are here?’

The old general seemed oddly relieved by this question.

‘I must tell you, since you ask,’ he said. He fell silent.

Then he added quietly: ‘My family assure me that Yun Cai is a liar, and that he could not have found these scrolls in Pinang as he has described. They swear that he has devised these lies to revenge himself upon my cousin, Lord Xiao. For my part, I say what I have already said. I have nothing more to add.’

The judge nodded solemnly.

‘I understand. His Excellency may withdraw. I have heard enough.’

I was alone in the centre of the court.

Lord Xiao’s lawyer stepped forward. He was like one of those game fighting cocks which always return to the fight, even with a wing torn off.

‘Only torture will settle the question of Yun Cai’s testimony!’ he cried. ‘Rigorous, probing use of the implements! I insist that this false witness should be tested under torture!’

The three judges regarded him.

*

‘You, sir, may not
insist
on anything,’ said the Chief Judge. ‘We will consider your request. For now, today’s hearing is over.’

Suddenly, the wide room, so long repressed, was full of voices. In a daze I felt the Lawyer Yuan Chu-Sou lead me outside. As he conducted me to the soldiers waiting by the gate, he gripped my arm. I swear there was approval in the gesture.

‘We must see whether they decide you should be tortured,’ he whispered. ‘When you go under the implements, for heaven’s sake stand firm, or we will lose all our advantage. I must report what has happened to our great sponsor – you did well not to mention his name, by the way. Who knows, he may be able to influence what implements are used.’

Then he delivered me to a waiting escort of soldiers.

Four guardsmen marched me back to the Temple of Flying Petals. I kept my eyes to the ground, ignoring the courtiers and officials we passed on the way. My undergarments were clammy with sweat, my face chilled by a dry wind.

Words and faces, snatches of phrases from the trial, all blew round my mind so that half my spirit remained in that perilous room. Nothing had been resolved for me there except that I must endure a night of dreadful uncertainty.

I no longer cared whether Lord Xiao would be found guilty. All that mattered was the prospect of torture.

Torture! You could say everyone is tortured during life, through malicious gossip or unkind acts, sometimes one’s own. Through love becoming its opposite, step by step, until one is alone and forlorn. But the prospect of a practised hand testing weakness through gradations of pain, studied blows to soles or genitals, perhaps a little judicious fire, or red-hot tongs delicately applied to one’s nose, or a simple old-fashioned whipping. . . Oh, I could not think of it. Or stop thinking of it. Imagined agonies so unbearable I almost wished they would set about me at once, just to get it over with.

By the time I reached the Temple I was losing my balance. I found my friend, the old monk, waiting by the doors. He began to chant a low, mournful sutra as my guards thrust me through the portal. Scooping handfuls of dried petals from a bronze bowl, he scattered them upon me, as blossom graces the earth. I staggered and he led me to his private chamber. There a basket of rice balls lay on the table beside a flask of wine.

‘Eat!’ he commanded.

My stomach revolted at the thought of food. I slumped on his low cot, burying my head in my hands.

‘Eat,’ he said again, more gently.

I managed a gulp of rice-ball, then another. Soon I had emptied the basket.

‘Drink,’ he said. ‘Do not fear. The wine is good.’

With shaking hands I drained a large cup.

‘Now sleep,’ he said, softly. ‘Whatever will happen has already occurred. Who knows how many lifetimes you have endured? Sleep. And perhaps the Blossom God will comfort your dream.’

I lay on the cot like an exhausted child and felt a rough blanket thrown over me.

*

Perhaps the Blossom God did visit my dreams. I do not remember. When I awoke it was bright morning and a short, pot-bellied man shook my arm.

‘Hey, you! Wake up!’

He wore the uniform of a eunuch serving the Censor’s Bureau. I recognised him as an official from the trial. I swung my legs to the floor. So they had come for me.

‘They say a man with a clean conscience sleeps well,’ he chuckled. ‘But I say, everyone is guilty of something.’

I waited.

‘You are free to go,’ he said. ‘The judges have no further use for you.’

My puzzlement must have shown.

‘On your way! Go!’

‘Where must I go?’

He tutted, then laughed heartily.

‘Anywhere that will have you.’

At once I understood whom I should thank for my release. The last person I might ever have imagined. His Excellency Wen Po’s refusal to condemn my character or the provenance of the scrolls had swung the judges behind my testimony. To this day I do not know why he defied his family and refused to brand me a liar. Perhaps he resented being dragged from his final sickbed. Perhaps he sensed death was near, indeed he was buried a month later, and feared to tell a lie lest he pay for it before the infernal judges in Hell. Perhaps he simply hated his cousin, or even liked me and, being a soldier, a plain man at heart, that was enough. No one can ask him now.

I stood outside the Temple of Flying Petals staring up at a blue sky ribboned with clouds, a bundle at my feet containing P’ei Ti’s sword and his gift of money. The old monk stood beside me. After I had thanked him, bowing as low as I ever did for Father, he said: ‘You have forgotten someone, young man.’

Indeed I had. I prostrated myself nine times before the image of the Blossom God but he granted me no sign.

Why should he? He had granted me his greatest favour, another cycle of life.

‘Little General, can that be you?’

Cousin Hong rose hurriedly as I stepped into the courtyard of his wine shop. The customers looked up curiously, then returned to their conversations. Without replying I accepted his embrace. Perhaps he read my mood for he asked no questions.

‘This house is your own,’ he said, simply. ‘You are safe here.’

Once again I found myself in the storeroom overlooking Jade Cloud Canal. Again, all I could do was wait. If the judges decided in Lord Xiao’s favour I must flee the city, though a thousand
li
could hardly be expected to protect me. Sooner or later his anger would find me out.

But if he fell, if he was banished or stripped of office and His August Excellency continued to protect me; if Lord Xiao’s family and friends decided I was not worth ruining for revenge’s sake; and if I passed the Imperial Examination with honour and was appointed to the Son of Heaven’s service; then perhaps, just maybe, I might face the future with a light heart.

Hours spent alone in the storeroom at the back of Cousin Hong’s wine shop, watching light change into night. I dared not visit P’ei Ti or Su Lin, in case my company infected them. Yet I longed for their fellowship, and letters passed between us, though neither found the courage to meet me in the days leading up to Lord Xiao’s verdict. All the while, I secretly resented their prudence.

Especially Su Lin. I had risked so much for her. Could she not do the same for me?

We were all waiting. It was a bitter time. And it exposed our frailties, and strengths.

After two days of seclusion, I’d had a bellyful of Cousin Hong’s storeroom. Instead of skulking like a brigand in a cave, I stepped out into the courtyard wearing my brightest silks. There I surprised Mi Feng and Cousin Hong in earnest conversation.

‘Little General, you look pale as a ghost,’ exclaimed my cousin.

They seemed in high spirits.

‘I have a request,’ I said.

They watched me. Two shrewd men. Cousin Hong sighed, and I knew him well enough to read his mind. He was afraid I needed a loan.

‘It’s not that,’ I interrupted. ‘Can you spare Mi Feng for the day?’ I asked.

‘Of course! I must tell you, he has become my business partner now. In fact we were just discussing my plan to buy another small wine shop.’

When they turned to each other I noted the affection between them and felt a pang of jealousy. How I envied their ability to prepare a brighter future! Yet I was not without plans of my own.

‘May the venture bring great profit to you both,’ I said.

‘If you want me,’ declared Mi Feng. ‘Then I’m your servant once more.’

Before we left I whispered that he should carry his knife and I would take my sword. If he expected a wild escapade I soon disappointed him. All I intended was to cross the city. Given my brush with Lord Xiao’s assassins in the Temple of Flying Petals and the fate of Secretary Wen, that seemed dangerous enough. It was quite possible spies observed the wine shop waiting for me to emerge. In fact my plan was hazardous in other ways. At the very least, I intended to compromise my reputation as a gentleman. I might even provoke Father’s utter rejection.

We left by a side door and, after weaving through alleyways, walked long miles through the city, wary of faces following us among the crowds. It was a grimmer, less gay place than the city of my youth. Soldiers recalled from the frontier were everywhere, as were drifting groups of peasants driven out of the countryside by famine. Each fresh proof of destitution confirmed my sense that the Way did not flow well through our Empire. Yet I wore splendid silks, costly enough to feed dozens of families. Was I not complicit?

Finally, we reached the West Lake. The sight of a hundred pleasure craft weaving round each other did not bring the gladness I expected. I felt, like one who has watched a delightful play too many times.

I hired a boatman and half an hour later disembarked further up the lakeside. A low hill rose capped by Su Lin’s house and gardens. Mi Feng turned to me.

‘Should you be coming here?’ he asked, quietly.

‘No. And because of that, yes.’

I felt his hand on my arm and met his cold eyes.

‘Remember what she owes to you,’ he said.

He was right, but the memory did not smooth my anxious heart as I approached her gates. Perhaps she would not be at home. Should I wait like a common suitor or messenger for her return? The porter took one look at us and scowled. It was the same cocky fellow Mi Feng had threatened when we returned from Pinang.

‘You need not announce us,’ I said.

Mi Feng raised a finger and pointed at the door. The porter bowed nervously and ushered us through.

I walked into the house and paused. Then I heard her light, indifferent laugh. A taunting, playful laugh guaranteed to provoke a reaction. A man’s voice rose in mock protest. I froze. Mi Feng halted beside me. If not for his presence I might have turned back, afraid of shame.