“And what did you say?”
“That it was my father’s.”
“And they accepted that?”
“Why should they doubt it? It was the kind of thing he dealt in, after all.”
“Yes.” But the thought of it made him go cold. It had all been a very close call. “Well... I’d better go.”
“Good luck,” she said, smiling, offering her hand. He took it, pressing it firmly, then bowed his head. “And you, Shang Han-A. Keep in touch, huh?” “I shall.”
wang sau-leyan turned on his throne, facing the camera, his bloated, moonlike face moving forward until it filled the huge screen. “Yes, Cousin, how can I help you?”
Li Yuan took a breath, then launched in. “It has come to my attention that certain persons are accepting your hospitality.” “Persons, Cousin? Come ... be more specific. I have many guests. Whom could you possibly mean?”
Li Yuan controlled his anger, realizing that Wang was baiting him. “I mean certain traitors. Prince An Sheng and the I Lung among them.” “Ah ...” Wang smiled. “So you’ve heard, eh? But tell me ... you talk of traitors. Surely there’s inconclusive evidence to talk of treachery? Or have my cousins information I’ve not been privy to?” Out of sight of the camera Li Yuan bunched his fists. “There’s evidence enough, Cousin. Those men are traitors. They plotted to bring down the Seven and murder all our families.”
“I see.” Wang hesitated, stroking his chins, then smiled. “And our cousins Tsu Ma and Wu Shih, do they agree with you?” “They do.”
“Then there’s no question of it, neh?”
“No question,” Li Yuan answered firmly, wondering what Wang was up to.
“Well,” he said, “as you’ve heard, let me show you.” He moved back in the great chair, then signaled to the camera. Slowly it turned, looking past him, until it focused on a line of kneeling figures. “Are these the ones?”
Li Yuan stared, astonished. All eleven of those named by Nan Ho knelt there. Their hands were bound behind them, their heads shaven. They stared into the camera, hollow eyed. For a moment he stared at them, wondering why they were so silent . . . then he saw. Their bloodied mouths were empty. Wang Sau-leyan had pulled their teeth and cut out their tongues! “Those are the men,” he said quietly, a shiver of disgust passing through him.
“And these men are known traitors . . . that’s what you said, neh?”
Li Yuan let out a breath, then nodded.
“In which case”—Wang heaved himself up out of his throne and went across, standing beside An Sheng. He smiled, then signaled to the guard behind him—“execute the traitor!”
“Cousin!” Li Yuan cried out, but it was too late. The guard stepped up and, pulling An Sheng’s head back, dragged a knife across his throat.
wu shih was standing in the lower garden when the message came. Pao En-fu bowed low, then came two paces toward him, what looked like a black footstool beneath one arm.
“Chieh Hsia, your cousin, the T’ang of Africa, wishes to speak with you.” “Wang Sau-leyan?” Wu Shih laughed with disbelief. “What in the gods’ names could that rogue want?”
“He would not say, Chieh Hsia, only that it was urgent. I took the liberty of bringing a portable holo-unit.”
Wu Shih nodded. “Thank you, Master Pao. Put it down, then leave me.”
“Chieh Hsia.”
Pao En-fu set the portable down, then backed away, moving quickly out of earshot. Wu Shih waited a moment, then gave the “voice only” command. At once the image of his cousin, the T’ang of Africa, materialized in the air. He had his back to Wu Shih.
“Cousin? Are you there?”
“I am here, Wang Sau-leyan. What do you want?”
Wang turned to face the sound. “I hoped to be able to see you, Wu Shih.
Where are you? In your garden?”
“I am here,” he answered. He was damned if he was going to tell the bastard where he was.
Wang shrugged. “You heard what happened, I take it?”
“I heard.”
“Then we can sleep safely once more, neh, Cousin? Or so one might believe.
...”
Wu Shih stared at the gross shape of his cousin suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“Only that there are many ways to betray one’s fellows. . . .” Wang reached into his silks and withdrew a folded slip of paper. “You know, when the I Lung first came to me yesterday evening, he sought to buy my trust. He offered certain papers—things he had unearthed while going about his dark and shadowy business. Among them was this.” He tapped the paper against the fingers of his other hand, then smiled. “I am told it is authentic. That this copy was taken direct from the original. But such things are hard to prove, neh? Most things can be copied these days, and seals and documents better than most. Yet I am convinced of the authenticity of this. It ... rings true, shall we say.” Wu Shih moved slightly to one side, out of the predatory gaze of his bulky cousin.
“What is it?”
Wang turned toward his voice again, untroubled, it seemed, by the necessity. “It is an agreement. A letter, to be more accurate, written by our cousin Wei Chan Yin to Li Yuan, expressing his loyalty.” “His loyalty? How do you mean? Our cousin Wei is a T’ang in his own right.
Why, he—“
He stopped, understanding. Was that why Wei Chan Yin had been so quiet in Council? Was that why he always voted, without hesitation, the way his cousin Yuan voted?
Even so, it still made little sense. Wu Shih shook his head. “It must be forged.”
Wang nodded. “That is exactly what I thought. Yet even under torture the I Lung insisted it was genuine. He said to ask Wei Chan Yin, but. . . well, he would not admit to it now, would he?”
“No . . .” Wu Shih turned, beginning to pace to and fro, disturbed by what he’d heard, then turned back. “Show me the document!” Wang held it up. Wu Shih bent close, studying it. It certainly looked like Wei Chan Yin’s hand. Even so ...
“Would you send me a copy, Cousin?”
Wang folded the sheet and slipped it back inside his silks. “Of course. One is already on its way to you. I took the liberty of sending a special messenger. It would not do for such a thing to fall into another’s hands.” Wu Shih shuddered. “Cousin, I—I am grateful for your confidence. I cannot say how I feel right now, but—“ “Of course,” Wang said hurriedly. “I understand. This must have come as a great shock to you. If it helps at all, I know exactly how you feel. It... well, it undermines us, neh?”
Wu Shih stared at his cousin’s image, blindly it seemed, then grunted his assent.
“I’ll leave you, then, Cousin Shih.”
Wu Shih waved vaguely at the image, forgetting it could not see him, then added. “Oh, and thank you, Cousin. . . .” “It was but my duty. Until tomorrow ...”
Slowly the image faded. Slowly the sunlight seemed to return, as if from far away.
Wu Shih turned, looking about him, seeing not the natural harmony, the greenness, of the garden, but a mess of irregular shapes, a whole vast sea of lengthening shadows.
And if this proves true?
If this were true, then it would be the end of things between them, for such a breach of trust. . .
He shook his head violently and groaned. Untrue. It had to be untrue! Li Yuan . . . why, Li Yuan was like a son to him. He would never have put his name to such a thing.
Never? he asked himself, remembering the wording of the document and how it reminded him of the way Yuan spoke. Never was a long time, and Li Yuan was a young man, and young men were notoriously impatient. Maybe so, yet there was no earthly reason why Wei Chan Yin should submit to Yuan. No reason whatsoever. Whereas Wang— Wang could only benefit from this.