The Middle Kingdom (23 page)

Lehmann laughed
sourly. "And what does that mean, Edmund? The T'ang wants
payment for his Minister's life. Retribution. Right or wrong is an
irrelevance in this instance. It doesn't matter that you're innocent.
He wants you. Don't you see that?" His voice was stern now,
unyielding. "And he'll find all the evidence he needs to get
you."

There was a loud
murmuring, but no disagreement.

Wyatt turned
away. "When does he plan to serve the warrant?"

Lehmann looked
about him, seeing how open each man's face now was; how starkly
etched their anger and resentment, their concern and indignation.
Then he turned back. "Midday tomorrow," he said. "At
your apartment."

"I see."
Wyatt looked down. "Then I'll be there. T'ang or not, he's
wrong, Pietr. I'm innocent. You know I am."

Lehmann turned,
looking back at him, then reached out and touched his shoulder. "I
know."

"Minister
Heng."

The T'ang's
Chamberlain, Chung Hu-yan, bowed stiffly, his face expressionless,
then turned, inviting the Minister to follow him.

Astonished, Heng
returned the Chamberlain's bow. He had barely arrived a minute
before, and here was Chung trying to rush him into an audience. Was
there to be no ritual of preparation? No honor guard? He stood there
a moment longer, as if he had not heard the words, looking about him,
surprised by the emptiness of the great entrance hall. It was
strangely disconcerting; as if the T'ang's servants had been sent
elsewhere. But why? And why the unseemly haste?

"Please . .
." Chung Hu-yan bowed a second time, then repeated the gesture
of invitation, making it clear that it had been no mistake.

"Forgive
me," Heng said, bowing again, his composure slipping. "Of
course . . ."

He followed the
Chamberlain through, under the great lintel and into the Hall of
Eternal Truth. But he had taken only three steps into the great hall
when he stopped, taken aback. There, alone beneath the empty Presence
Throne, stood General Tblonen; tall, white haired, and elegant in his
peacock blue dress uniform. Heng Chi-Po frowned, then walked on,
conscious for once of the unfavorable contrast he made to the haughty
Hung Moo, his hand momentarily straying to the crane patch on the
chest of his dark blue
pau,
symbol of his status as an
official of the first rank.

Coming opposite
the General, Minister Heng stopped and bowed, but Tolonen stared
through him coldly, not even the smallest flicker of recognition in
his eyes.

The T'ang's
Chamberlain waited, watching the exchange carefully. Then, rather
stiffly, he bowed. "Forgive me, Minister Heng, but the T'ang
awaits you. Please ... if you would follow me."

Heng turned
angrily and followed Chung Hu-yan into a room to the right of the
throne. The T'ang was waiting for him there, standing among the
tall-leafed plants at the edge of a small decorative carp pond.

"Chieh
Hsia,"
he said, bowing deeply, "I hope you are in good
health."

Li Shai Tung
turned from his contemplation of the fish. "Come in, Minister
Heng. Please, take a seat. WeVe business to discuss."

Heng sat, his
back to the unlit fire, looking about him, noting with pleasure the
simple luxuries of the room. There was a tall screen across the
center of the room; a delightful thing of brightly colored silk, and
next to it a low, squat vase, rounded like the belly of a wrestler,
its glaze the sweetest, softest lavender he'd ever seen.

"This is a
beautiful room,
Chieh Hsia.
"

"Yes,"
said the T'ang, smiling. "It was my grandfather's favorite room.
His picture hangs behind you."

Heng turned and
looked up, first at Wen Ti, then at the painting beside it, conscious
at once of the strength, the raw vitality, of the man portrayed. "Ah,
yes. He has your eyes, Chieh Hsta."

"My eyes?"
The T'ang looked down, thoughtful. "They say he had perfect
vision all his life. That at seventy he could see what type of bird
was nesting in a tree more than two
U
distant. But there's
seeing and seeing, eh, Heng?" He met the Minister's eyes again,
a wry yet challenging look in his own.

Heng bowed,
conscious of the exaggeration and suddenly wary of its meaning. "As
you say,
Chieh Hsia
."

"Yes ... as
I say." The T'ang looked past him, up at the painting of his
ancestor. "And if I say Heng Yu is not appointed in Lwo Kang's
place?"

Heng Chi-po
stiffened in his seat, then forced himself to relax. "Then that,
too, is as you say. One does not question the word of a T'ang."

Li Shai Tung sat
back. "No," he said, watching his Minister closely. "But
that is what you came for, is it not?"

Heng looked up
again. "It was,
Chieh Hsia
. But as you've made your
decision. . . ."

The T'ang raised
his chin slightly. "There was nothing else, then? No other
matter you wished to speak to me about?"

Heng kept his
face a blank. "Nothing that cannot wait for the next meeting of
the Council of Ministers. I thought to plead on my nephew's behalf.
To put his qualities before you. He is a good man, a capable man,
Chieh Hsia."

Strangely, the
T'ang laughed. "You are quite right, Minister Heng. He is a good
man. Which is why I saw him this very morning."

The look of
surprise on Heng's face was unfeigned. "
Chieh Hsia
?"

"And
appointed him."

Heng's mouth
fell open. "But you said—"

The T'ang
clicked his fingers. Two guards came in and stood there at either end
of the screen. Heng looked across at them, frowning, not
understanding, then looked back at the T'ang.

"Yes. I
spoke to him at length. I questioned him about the five classics.
Then, finally, I set him a riddle."

"A riddle,
Chieh Hsia
?"

Li Shai Tung
stood up and went over to the screen. "I put this problem to
him. If one knows a man is guilty yet has no proof, how can one act
and yet be considered just?"

Heng lowered his
eyes.

"You see my
drift, Minister Heng? You understand me?"

The T'ang's
voice was suddenly harsher, colder.

Heng glanced up;
saw how closely the T'ang was watching him now. No proof, he thought.
You have no proof!

The T'ang
continued. "Your nephew considered a moment, then asked me how
it was I knew and yet could not prove the matter? Was I, then, not
witness to the guilty act? No, I had to answer. What then? he asked.
Was there another, perhaps, whose word meant less in the eyes of the
world than that of the guilty man? Were the scales of accusation and
denial tipped unevenly in the latter's favor? I smiled and nodded.
But so it ever is. How balance them?"

Heng had gone
cold.

"And do you
know what he said?"

The Minister
looked up. He hesitated, then found his voice. "No, Chieh
Hsifl."

The T'ang
laughed sourly. "No, you wouldn't, would you, Heng?"

He snapped his
fingers again, then moved aside as the guards lifted and carried the
screen away.

Heng gasped. His
face blanched. Then he looked down sharply, swallowing loudly.

The T'ang came
closer and stood over him. "You're a clever man, Heng Chi-Po.
Too clever to leave your print on things. But I know you for what you
are. I've seen it here, with my own eyes. Your guilt is as clear on
you as the glaze on this vase."

He turned and
looked across to where Pi Ch'ien sat, hands in his lap, silently
watching, then looked back down at his Minister.

"Over
there, in the comer, is a desk. On the desk you will find an ink
block, brushes, writing paper, and your seal of office. I want you to
write a letter to me explaining that you have been suffering from ill
health these last few months. So much so that you must, with great
sadness, naturally, resign your post."

There was the
smallest movement of Heng's head as if to protest, then he nodded.

"Good. In
which case there will be no loss of pension, no public loss of face.
As for your family, they will gain a better man as minister. Heng Yu
will be appointed in your place."

Heng Chi-Po
looked up mutely, miserably, then bowed his head again and stood to
do as he was bid.

HENG K O U waved
the servant away, then leaned across to lock and seal the carriage.

"What is
it, first brother? What has happened?"

For a moment
Heng Chi-Po was unable to speak. His face was mottled with fury and
his hands pulled convulsively at each other. Then he leaned forward
across the gap between them until his face was almost touching Kou's.

"This is
Tolonen's doing." Heng Chi-Po blinked angrily, then leaned back
again. For a moment he was silent, staring away into the distance,
his whole face fixed in a mask of purest hatred. Then he turned and
faced his brother again. "I saw it in his eyes. That man has
never liked me, Kou. And now he has poisoned the T'ang against me."

Kou frowned.
"Poisoned . . . how?"

"The insect
tricked me. Trapped me. . . ." Heng Chi-Po's chest rose and fell
violently now. Sweat beads stood out on his forehead.

Heng Kou began
to understand. Gods! Heng Chi-Po was out. That was it, wasn't it? For
some reason he was out. Nothing else could have brought him to this
state. But was this a tragedy for Chi'Po alone or for the whole
family? Was all lost? Or could the damage be contained? He had to
know.

Heng Kou calmed
himself and leaned forward, forcing his brother to look at him. "Tell
me what happened, eldest brother. What misfortune has befallen our
great family?"

Heng Chi-Po
tried to meet his eyes, then looked down sharply, his voice suddenly
bitter with shame. He was close to tears.

"I am no
longer minister. Li Shai Tung has stripped me of my office."

"Stripped
you. . . ." Heng Kou feigned speechlessness. Then he found his
voice again. "He forced you to resign, you mean?"

Heng Chi-Po
nodded, the first tears rolling down his cheeks. "But there's
more, Kou. He has appointed nephew Yu in my place. Can you believe
that? The humiliation of it! We shall be laughingstocks!"

Heng Kou's mind
reeled. Nephew Yu! After the first shock of it he wanted to laugh
aloud, but he hid both his delight and his relief. "That's
outrageous!" he Said. "It is an insult, elder brother. A
slur upon the whole family." But he was already considering how
to act to minimize the damage to the family.

Heng Chi-Po
leaned forward again, his red-rimmed eyes suddenly angry again. "I'll
have him, Kou! I'll have the carrion dead, understand?"

For a moment
Heng Kou was too shocked for words, but then he saw that his brother
didn't mean the T'ang.

"Leave it,
brother. Please. It's done. You can't undo it thus."

Heng Chi-Po
shook his head violently. "No, Kou. I want Tblonen dead. By
tomorrow evening. Understand me? I want that bastard obliterated. I
want him nonexistent. I want. . ."

Heng Kou
shivered, then bowed his head. "As you wish, my brother."

"Do you
think they'll incarcerate me, Pietr? Do you think theyVe proof to
hold me until the trial?"

Lehmann smiled
and touched Wyatt's shoulder. "WeVe the best advocates in the
seven cities, Edmund. I'm sure they'll keep you from the cells. But
even if they can't, it won't be so dreadful. Privilege is privilege,
even behind bars. You'll not lack for comforts."

Wyatt smiled,
but shadows gathered beneath the firm and pleasant line of his mouth,
clouding the attractive sparkle of his eyes. Many old friends had
come to visit him this morning. More friends than he'd thought he
had. For a time he had let himself be buoyed by their good wishes,
but now they were gone and he was alone with Lehmann.

"You know,
this frightens me, Pietr. I couldn't sleep last night thinking of it.
Wondering how I would handle myself. How I would bear up before all
these lies and smears. Wondering what kind of man I would be at the
end of it."

"You'll be
your father's son, Edmund. You're like him. You have his strength."

Wyatt looked
down. "Maybe."

He said no more,
but Lehmann, who knew him as well as any man, could sense what he was
thinking. Wyatt's father had been strong but inconsiderate, his
mother weak and conciliatory. She had died when Edmund was only five,
leaving him almost defenseless against his hectoring father. That he
had grown up such a sane and balanced individual was testimony to the
influence of his sisters and aunts.

Lehmann glanced
down at the ornate timepiece inset at his wrist. "The General
will be here soon, Edmund. We should get ready for him."

Wyatt nodded
abstractedly, then turned to face him. "It's not myself I'm
afraid for, it's them." He shivered, then wrapped his arms about
himself. "It's why I couldn't bear to have them here with me
today. If I lose this—if, inexplicably, they find me guilty of
Lwo Kang's murder. . ." He looked down, all color gone from his
cheeks. "Well, their lives would be forfeit, too, wouldn't they?
It's the law. A traitor and all his family ..."

Lehmann breathed
shallowly, forcing himself to meet Wyatt's eyes. "That's so. To
the third generation."

"Still"—Wyatt
forced a smile, then came across and held Lehmann to him tightly—"I'm
grateful, Pietr," he said more quietly. "Truly I am.
However this turns out, I..."

Lehmann felt
Wyatt's body shudder in his arms and steeled himself against all
feeling. Even so, he answered Wyatt gently.

"You would
have helped me, wouldn't you?"

Wyatt moved
slightly back from him. There were tears in his eyes. "I'd kill
for you, Pietr. You know I would."

Necessary.
He
heard DeVore's voice saying it and felt a shiver run down his spine.
It's easy for you, Howard, he thought; you never liked him.