The Captain hesitated, then, clearing his throat, answered for them all. "It's just that it's . . ."
"Unfair?" Nan Fa-hsien laughed bitterly. "We are our Master's hands. We do what he says. We do not act without his permission. Chancellor Heng . . . Heng Yu, that is, has disobeyed our Master. For that his life is forfeit."
The Captain looked down, then spoke again, more quietly this time. "Can't you see what is happening, Master Nan? The city is in turmoil. Rumour is that this illness is a kind of plague. And the Chancellor . . . well, he but acts to save as many lives as he can. If that is treachery . . ."
Nan Fa-hsien answered him again, uncomfortable and just the slightest bit irritated that he should be made to defend his Master's actions in this manner.
"Whether Master Heng is right or wrong does not concern you and I, Captain. We have our duty, neh? Or do you forget who you serve?"
The Captain's laugh was openly scornful now. "You mean her?"
Nan Fa-hsien stared at the man, speechless now.
"You think our Master in his true senses would have ordered this?" the Captain continued, shaking his head. "No. Never in ten thousand years! This is her doing . . . this tuickedness."
"Enough!" Nan Fa-hsien bellowed, losing his temper with the man. "Do your duty, Captain, or surrender your dagger."
The Captain stared at him with a cold disdain, then, looking to his fellows, turned on his heels and left.
Aiya, Nan Fa-hsien thought, letting out a long, shuddering breath.
They were right, of course. Their Master was not in his true senses. Nor was what Heng Yu had done an act of treachery. But that was not the point. Li Yuan was the arch, the hub, the very centre of it all. His word was therefore sacrosanct. And they... he felt a shiver run down his spine ... they were but his hands, to do as he ordered, for good or ill.
He looked across the room to where his two secretaries stood against the wall, silently looking on.
"Come," he said, conscious of his father's ghost at his shoulder at that moment. He was to be appointed Chancellor at last. Chancellor, like his father before him.
Forgive me, Heng Yu, he thought, leading the two servants out and along the corridor, heading towards the stables where his T'ang awaited him. But he had not gone far before he was called back.
"Master Nan!"
He turned as one of the stewards from the Eastern Palace came up and, kneeling, pressing his forehead to the floor, began to speak.
"It is here, Master Nan! The plague is here among us!"
Nan Fa-hsien felt his whole body go cold. "Slow down, Steward Wen. Tell me what has happened."
"One of the guards... one of the three who found her... he is sick, Master Fan. The golden sickness. The Hollower . . ."
Hearing that word again - the third time in an hour - Nan Fa-hsien frowned. How quickly such things spread.
"It is not possible," he said. "Why, it is only hours since they found the body!"
"Yes, Master Nan," the man said, looking up at him, as if he could save them. "And is he the only instance?" "So far, Master Nan."
"Then isolate him. And the other two as well. In fact, isolate all who have been in contact with them."
"All those.. ." Steward Wen gave a strange laugh. "But that is the whole of the San Chang, Master Nan. Are you saying we should bar the doors?"
«T »
Suddenly he understood. Suddenly he knew why Master Heng had acted as he had. The thing was out of hand. However fast they ran now, it would run faster.
"Bar the doors," he said, a cold certainty in his voice. "And guard them well. And Steward Wen . . ."
"Yes, Master Nan?"
"Go light a candle to the gods."
Nan Fa-hsien found his Master in the stables, working alone in one of the end stalls, raking through the straw bedding with a pitchfork, his back to him.
"You sent for me, Chieh Hsia?"
Li Yuan stopped, resting a moment on the handle of his fork. "I sent for you, Master Nan."
Nan Fa-hsien waited patiently, then heard his Master sigh.
"Are you all right, Chieh Hsia?"
Li Yuan's laugh was bleak. "Am I all right?" He sniffed deeply, then straightened up, throwing aside the fork. "I did not know until an hour ago."
"Know, Chieh Hsia?'
"The maid ... I slept with her. She . . ."
Li Yuan turned, and as he did Nan Fa-hsien gasped and fell to his knees. His Master's face was blotched, the neck too. Faint golden blotches.
"Aiyal" Nan cried, staring at his master with dismay. But Li Yuan merely stood there, stoical, resigned, it seemed, to his fate.
"The gods have decided to test us, Master Nan. To punish us for our wickedness. Let us pray that some of us survive."
Cheng Nai shan stood back, aghast at his Mistress's reaction. But then, what had he expected? It was not every day that one learned that one's husband had the plague.
Even so, that shriek she'd uttered . . . He stared at her as she knelt there, pulling at her hair and groaning loudly. The gods help us, he thought, finding the theatrical nature of the display somewhat ostentatious. Why you'd think she'd really loved the man\
He knew better of course. After all, it had been he who had arranged all those secret visits - all those other young men who had come, quite literally, and without his Master's knowledge - to keep his Mistress happy.
"Mistress," he said, taking a step toward her, trying to get her attention. "Mistress?"
The screech she gave made him jerk back. He turned, gesturing to his secretary.
"Lai Wu ... go fetch the Surgeon. Tell him . . . tell him we need a sedative for the Lady Lung."
The groaning grew louder, more violent. Cheng Nai shan glanced at the woman and shuddered with distaste. So coarse she was. So ...
"Master Cheng?"
He turned, looking to the newcomer. It was one of the captains of the elite palace guard.
"What is it, man?"
"It is the gates, Master Cheng. Nan Fa-hsien has ordered them barred."
"Barred?" He stared at the man, then, knowing he must act at once, rushed from the room, leaving the captain to catch up with him.
So young Master Nan thought he was in charge, did he? Well, just because his Master had given him a new title, that did not mean that it was he who held the reins of power here in the San Chang.
"The nerve of the man," he murmured, half running as he emerged from the ornate entrance and ran across the marble path, heading for the Main Guard House. "We'll see whose word counts more!"
Nan Fa-hsien had heard that his Mistress was in a state, yet when he reached her rooms they were empty. The only sign that Dragon Heart had been there were a few shreds of ripped silk - silk, he guessed, that she had torn from her own robes.
Kuan Yin preserve us, he thought, groaning inwardly. He had hoped to spare her, or, at best, at least to have the Surgeon there when he broke the news, so that he could administer some palliative to help her sleep, but now . . .
It's that meddler, Cheng, he thought, the guess becoming a certainty as he sniffed the air and smelled the sweet, telltale waft of Chang's perfume. What is that bastard up to?
He would send someone to find out. But first the Empress.
He turned, looking about him, smoothing his beard with one hand as he forced himself to think. Where would she be right now? What would she be thinking?
He tried to put himself in her place. Tried to imagine her response. She would be tearful and afraid, yes, and shocked. But after that ... He shivered, then nodded his head. After that she would be angry. Angry enough to want revenge. Revenge, yes, but who would she take out her anger on? And how?
His rooms, he thought. Shell have gone to his rooms. And, hurrying from the suite, he went in quick pursuit.