I. J. Parker
Death of a Doll Maker
The winds of spring
Scattered the blossoms
As I dreamed of you.
Now I waken
To a broken heart.
1
“What a hell hole!” Oil lamp held high, he surveyed the nearly empty room one last time. “May the next governor choke on it!”
His art collection was gone, and so were his carved and lacquered desk and the jade writing set. He had packed up all his treasures. Now the room contained little but a few mats and cushions and the ordinary desk that had been in storage. Let his successor gather his own wealth.
Outside, a horse whinnied, anxious to be gone. He, too, was eager to end it. Nearly three years of having to contend with fools and men he despised. Never mind. It had been profitable, so profitable the government in the capital had taken notice and issued the recall.
As if they weren’t greedy bastards all.
But they knew that he knew their venal sins, and that would protect him and get him another good assignment. He smiled. The hard work had paid off. Life was finally beginning for him. With a contented sigh, he blew out the flame, set the lamp on the floor, and walked out.
He was surprised to see only two riders waiting with his horse. He recognized them and asked, “Where are the others?”
“Gone ahead. You took your time.”
He swung himself into the saddle. “Just bidding farewell to this pest hole. Well, let’s go. The ship’s captain is eager to leave before dawn.”
“One more brief stop,” said the smaller of the two men. “You’ll give me the pleasure to accept a farewell cup and a gift at my house, I hope?”
It was the least the fellow could do after all he’d done for him, he thought, but his resentment melted a little. “How very kind of you but not at all necessary.”
The other man laughed softly. “You have been generous to my family. We do not forget our friends.”
His house was on the way. Why not spare a little time for a last cup of wine and a gift? Surely the present would be well worth it. Yes, the fellow had become very rich through him. At least as rich as he. A man like that owed acknowledgment to his betters. “Just a brief stop then,” he replied.
They veered off the main road, passed through some deserted streets, and entered a dark compound. The smell of cooking hung in the air, and he wrinkled his nose. “Why is it so dark?” he asked looking around.
“I’ve sent everyone away to make sure we’re undisturbed. Your Excellency cannot be too careful. It wouldn’t do to be seen in my house before your departure.”
“You may be right. Very considerate of you, but it’s unnecessary. They know or suspect already, but they cannot hurt me. Well, let’s go inside.”
They dismounted.
He followed the owner of the house. The large man, a servant, walked softly behind. But his host did not lead the way to the main house. He turned off to the side and took him to a service yard.
“What’s this? Are we going to the stables or the kitchen?”
His host chuckled. So did the servant behind him. “To the stables,” said his host.
He must be giving me a horse. Most likely a magnificent animal, but there was the inconvenience of transporting the animal all the way back. He slowed down. “Look,” he started, but they were already at the stables, and his host swung wide the door. The warm smell of horse flesh met his nose. He had guessed correctly.
“Come in and see,” said his host, taking his arm. “Your surprise is waiting. And such a surprise! I can’t wait to see your face.”
The servant pressed him forward as his master tugged. He gave a little laugh and submitted.
It was an ordinary stable and contained only three horses. By the uncertain light of the lantern near the door, they looked common. He had seen better looking post horses. He stopped again.
“Come,” he said, irritated, “if this is a joke, I’m getting very tired of it.”
Behind him the stable door slammed shut, and he heard the sound of the bar being shoved across.
Surprised, he turned. The servant, ugly brute that he was, stood there, his arms folded across his chest and a nasty grin in his face. He felt a twinge of uneasiness, then anger. Swinging back to his host, he demanded, “Open this door immediately. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not,” said the servant and chuckled.
His host was not smiling. He looked at him coldly. “Unfortunately,” he said in his soft voice, “I cannot let you go. You should have realized you know far too much about my business.”
An icy fear gripped him. This could not be happening. Where were his people? What could he do? Bluster? Threaten? Plead? Offer the man a deal?
He blustered. “How dare you? I’m an imperial official. You cannot restrain me. My people are waiting for me at the dock.”
“We’re restraining him?” The servant laughed again. “That’s one way of putting it.”
His master smiled a little at this. “They have gone on board. Someone sent them a message that you’d found a faster boat and would travel ahead. As for being missed in the capital … I doubt you’ll truly be missed.”
“You fear I will tell our secrets? Why should I inform on you? You have nothing to fear from me. We’ve always got along well together.”
The servant laughed again.
He decided to buy his way out of this unpleasantness. “Look,” he said more calmly, “You and I have always worked well together. I have no interest in talking about our business. We’ve both done well by it. And I can still do much for you in the future. I’m grateful and I’d be willing to share some of my future profits to prove my good will.”
The other man’s mouth twitched a little. “Tempting, but I’m a simple man. I like to make sure. Promises are like the wind. You can’t rely on them. On the other hand, I know you’ve hidden part of your gold somewhere to collect later. That I’d like to have. Where is it?”
His fury rose again. How did this common creature threaten him? “You heard wrong,” he snapped.
“Ling!”
The servant stepped in front of him. To his horror, he saw a thin sharp blade in the man’s hand. “No!” he gasped.
Too late. The blade had struck and taken off his topknot. The servant held it up and sniggered before tossing it under a horse’s hooves.
He backed away until he was hard against the barred gate. His right hand fumbled for the bar.
The servant was quicker. Again the blade flashed before he could twist away. A sharp pain stabbed his face, and then hot blood poured into his mouth as he screamed.
“Where?” asked the other man again. This time his voice was harsher. “Speak or he’ll slice you up alive like a pig.”
“No, wait!” he screamed again, his hands pressed to the place where his nose had been. “I’ll talk.”
The servant moved back a little, but he still held the bloody knife.
He told them. He told the truth because he was much too desperate to think of a good lie. And maybe also because a small part of him still hoped he would get away alive and come back for his revenge.
The other man nodded when he was done. “Good. Very well, Ling won’t have to make a mess of my stable after all, and we can go to bed at a decent hour. Ling?”
The servant came to open the gate, and for a moment, he thought it had worked and sighed with relief.
But the brute stopped before him, so close he saw his widening grin as the blow came. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, then a numbness followed by a great cold. And then he was face down in the dirt and couldn’t catch his breath. Something inside his chest contracted violently.
And on that agonizing spasm, all went dark.
2