He walked back slowly, smiling, wondering what Li Yuan was doing now and picturing in his mind Kuei Jen tucked up in bed, the pillows piled behind his back as he cradled the newborn. He slowed, conceiving the scene as a picture, the baby suckling at Kuei Jen's breast, then gave a snort of laughter. For one mischievous moment he had considered actually painting it and sending it to Li Yuan as a birth present. But why make unnecessary enemies?
He ducked under the low sill and, pushing the door open, stepped into the shadowed hallway, the smell of Meg's cooking coming to him. The child was crying - a low snuffling cry, like that of a small animal. He went to the doorway and stood there, looking in at Catherine.
Seeing him, she smiled. "He's almost gone," she said softly, almost mouthing the words, the child - fifteen months now -moving irritably on her shoulder at the noise.
For a moment he stared at the child, conscious of its flattened features, its jet-black skin, then smiled. So rich life was, so varied. If Li Yuan could only see that. If he could only look beyond his personal "humiliation" and see this thing for the wonder it was. But he knew that that wasn't possible, for Li Yuan was a Han, through and through, and for all his boasting that he was a moderniser, he was cut from the same cloth as his father and his father's father. No. There was no way he would forgive his son this; no way he would ever acknowledge his newborn grandson, let alone embrace him.
Ben sighed, not for the pity of it, but because he knew what this would mean for them all. Things were bad enough as they were. This .. . well, this would push them over the edge.
Sleep wett, he thought, going across and tousling the child's dark curls, then leaning close to kiss Catherine's offered lips. He embraced her briefly, then, turning away, hurried from the room. It was time to pack. Time to move on. While they still could.
CHAPTER-12
the hollower
"Master Heng! Master Heng!"
Heng Yu raised himself on his elbows, then, sitting up fully, knuckled his eyes. He had heard the banging on the outer door but had thought it part of the dream. But this now was no dream. His First Secretary, Fen Chun, stood over him, his face anxious.
"What is it, Chun?" Heng asked, wanting nothing more than to lie down again and sleep. But if Fen Chun had chosen to wake him, then it had to be something very urgent.
"You must come, Master Heng! You must see for yourself!"
Heng Yu got to his feet, then pulled on the cloak Fen was holding out for him. "Are we in danger, Chun?"
"No immediate danger, Master," the young man answered him. "But you ought to see this. . . before Master Cheng gets to hear of it."
"Ah. . ." Heng understood at once, and praised the Heavens that he had such a fine and loyal First Secretary as Fen Chun. Whatever this was, it was important that he took charge, before Cheng Nai shan could further undermine his authority.
Heng followed Fen Chun in silence, hurrying down the dimly lit corridor and out, down the steps, into the central gardens of the San Chang. It was not long after dawn and the shadows on the mosaic path were long. Ahead of them, beside one of the white marble ornamental bridges that crossed the stream, stood two guards. Another crouched nearby, looking down at something in the water.
As Heng Yu came up beside him, he saw what it was. It was a young woman. She was floating face down in the water.
Aiya, he thought, seeing the implications at once. If the girl had been murdered . . .
"Who found her?" he asked, looking to the guards, who now stood, their heads bowed in his presence.
One of them knelt. "It was I, Master Heng. Twenty minutes back. I... I thought you should know at once."
"You did well, " Heng said, wondering how much time he had to investigate the matter before Cheng was notified. "Has anyone else been informed?"
"No, Master Heng. I sent my colleague to fetch Master Fen. The rest you know."
Heng breathed in deeply. If she had been murdered, and not simply fallen in and drowned, then it was important to establish who she was and just how long she had been dead. Hopefully this was a "domestic" incident - a jealous husband exacting his "revenge", perhaps - and not something more sinister, but whatever it was, speed now was of the essence.
"Chun," he said, turning to his Secretary, "Go and fetch Surgeon Chang. Tell him only that it is urgent."
As Fen Chun hurried away, Heng turned to the guards again. "You, private," he said, pointing to the kneeling man. "Go and bring a tent from stores."
"Master!" The young man stood, bowed, then hurried off.
"Okay," Heng said, looking to the others. "Let's fish her out."
He watched as the two men struggled to pull the water-sodden corpse from the stream, then stood back as they slowly dragged her up onto the path.
" "Turn her over," Heng said quietly, a profound sadness falling over him. For a moment, as they'd been lifting her from the water, he had thought of his own daughter and had wondered how he would have felt, had it been her. It wasn't, of course, for she was miles from here, after all, yet that possibility - the sense of empathy it created in him - made this moment poignant.
One of the guards stood at the dead girl's head, the other at her waist, facing his fellow, his legs straddling her as they heaved and turned her onto her back.
THE HOLLOWER As one the three men gasped.
"Aiya!" Heng said, the word almost a breath. "What in the gods' names is that?"
The two young guards had stepped back at the sight, holding their hands out, away from themselves.
Heng Yu shuddered, then, reining in the deep, instinctive fear he was feeling, leaned in closer. "It seems ... alive."
At that, one of the guards turned and began to heave noisily. The other stood there, swaying unsteadily, disgust etched deep in his face. Yet he, like Heng Yu, was unable to tear his eyes from the sight.
The dead girl's face was peaceful, her eyes closed, her features unmarked, but lower down, where her thin silk dress had been torn open at the front, the flesh had been eaten away by something, leaving her chest a palpitating mess. Bad as that was, something else made it seem eerie and unnatural, for the bloodied tissue glowed with a faint golden tinge that seemed to pulse.
Heng swallowed back the bile that had risen to his throat, then straightened up, a shiver rippling through him. Whatever this was, it wasn't murder, nor was it an accident. He turned, looking back toward the Western Palace, anxious suddenly for Surgeon Chang to come and take charge of things.
"Master Heng?"
He looked to the guard, who was still staring at the girl. "Yes?"
"I think I know her."
Heng looked to the girl's face again, seeing only a stranger. "You know her?"
"I mean, I've seen her before. A few nights back. I was on picket duty at the East Gate. One of Master Cheng's men slipped in with her. At least, it looks like her."
Heng frowned. He had heard nothing of this. Strangers were being brought into the San Chang without his knowledge? He would have to have a word with Cheng Nai shan!
Yes, but see to this first, he reminded himself, hearing footsteps on the path behind him.
"Ah," he said, turning to find Fen Chun hurrying the greybearded Chang along. "Surgeon Chang ... it seems we have a mystery."
Michael Lever rose and went to the window, looking out across the gardens towards the wall of the compound. It was just after seven and the sky was overcast. Soon it would rain.
He turned back, looking across the vast expanse of carpet, past the big double bed where he slept alone, toward the screen on the far wall, and spoke to the House Computer. "Give me the latest on the markets." There was a pause, then, unexpectedly, his First Steward, Wei Yu answered him: