He shuddered, closing his eyes, overwhelmed by the feeling of her warmth pressed up against him, the softness of her kisses against his flesh. He could smell the scent of their lovemaking on her skin. Could taste it on his tongue.
"I must get ready," he said almost inaudibly. "The Council . . ."
In answer she drew him down again, her kisses robbing him of his senses, inflaming him once more.
prince wang SAU-LEYAN stood on the balcony of his dead father's room, his hands resting lightly on the balustrade, his back to his brother's Chancellor. The broad sweep of the Nile lay below him, bisecting the empty landscape, its surface glittering in the morning light. He was dressed in a long silk sleeping robe of lavender decorated with butterflies, tied loosely at the waist. His feet were bare and his hair hung long, unbraided. He had been silent for some time, watching the slow hovering flight of the birds high overhead, but now he lowered his head, finally acknowledging the waiting man.
"Greetings, Hung Mien-lo. And how is my brother this fine morning?"
Hung Mien-lo inclined his head. He was dressed formally, the three tiny pigtails of his beard braided tightly with silver thread, the dark silks he wore contrasting with the vermilion sash of office.
"The T'ang is poorly, Excellency. His nerves were bad and he did not sleep. He asks that you act as regent for him at todays Council. I have the authority here, signed and sealed."
The Prince dipped his hand into a bowl on the balustrade, at his side, scattering a handful of meat onto the desert floor, then watched the vultures swoop toward the subtly poisoned bait.
"Good. And our spies? What have they reported?"
Hung Mien-lo lifted his head, studying the Prince's back. "That Li Shai Tung has a scheme. Something his son, Yuan, has proposed. I've sounded some of our friends."
"And?"
The friends were a mixture of First Level businessmen and representatives,
government officials, and selected members of the Minor Families—all of them men of some influence outside the narrow circle of the Seven.
"They feel it would be best to oppose such a scheme."
"I see." He turned, looking at the Chancellor for the first time. "This scheme. . .
what does it involve?"
"They want to place a device in every citizen's head, a kind of tracking beam. They believe it would allow for a more effective policing of Chung Kuo."
Wang Sau-leyan turned away. It was not a bad idea, but that was not the point. His purpose was to blunt Li Shai Tung's authority in Council, and what better way than to oppose his son? If, at the same time, he could win the support of certain influential members of the Above, then all the better. When his own plans came to fruition they would be reminded of his opposition to the scheme.
He turned, looking back fiercely at Hung Mien-lo. "It is abominable. To put things in men's heads. Why, it would make them little more than machines!"
"Indeed, Excellency. And men should not be machines to be manipulated,
should they?"
Both men laughed.
"You understand me well, Chancellor Hung. Too well, perhaps. But I can use you."
Hung Mien-lo bowed low. "As your Excellency desires."
"Good." Wang Sau-leyan smiled and turned, staring out across the delta toward the distant pinnacle of the lighthouse. "Then you understand the last step we must take, you and I?"
Hung remained bowed; but his words came clear, unbowed, almost arrogant in their tone. "I understand . . . Chieh Hsia."
AFTER THE CHANCELLOR.had gone, Wang Sau-leyan stood there, watching the birds. At first they seemed unaffected by the poison, but then, first one and then another began to stagger unsteadily. One flapped its wings awkwardly, attempting to fly, lifting ten, maybe fifteen ch'i into the air before it fell back heavily to earth. He smiled. Six birds had taken the poison. He watched them stumble about for a time before they fell and lay still. More birds were gathering overhead, making slow circles in the cloudless sky. In a while they too would swoop. And then . . .
He turned away, tired of the game already—knowing the outcome—and went back inside.
"Sun!" he shouted impatiently. "Sun! Where are you?"
Sun Li Hua, Master of the Inner Chamber, appeared in the doorway at once, his head bent low. "Yes, Excellency?" "Send the maids. At once! I wish to dress."
Sun bowed and made to back away, but Wang Sau-leyan called him back. , "No . . , Send just the one. You know . . . Mi Feng."
"As you wish, Excellency."
He sniffed deeply, then crossed to the full-length dragon mirror and stood there, looking at himself. So his brother was unwell. Good. He would feel much worse before the day was out.
Wang Sau-leyan smiled and combed his fingers through his hair, drawing it back from his forehead. Then, almost whimsically, he turned his head, exposing one ear to view. That mystery—the mystery of who had taken his father's ears—remained unsolved. He had had Hung Mien-lo make a thorough investigation of the matter, but it had been without result. They had vanished, as if they had never been.
The thought brought a smile to his lips. He turned, still smiling, and saw the girl-Mi Feng was kneeling just inside the door, her head lowered almost to her lap,
awaiting his pleasure.
"Come here," he said brusquely, turning from her, moving across toward the great wardrobes that lined one side of the room. "I want you to dress me, girl."
She was his brother's maid, inherited from their father. In the wardrobe mirrors he saw her hesitate and glance up at his back.
"Well, girl? What are you waiting for? You heard me, didn't you?"
He noted her confusion, saw the way her face clouded momentarily before she bowed her head and began to move toward him.
He turned abruptly, making her start nervously.
"How is your sting, Little Bee? Did you serve my father well?"
Again he noted the movements in her face, the uncertainty, maybe even the suggestion of distaste. Well, who did she think she was? She was a servant, there to do his bidding, not the daughter of a T'ang.
She moistened her lips and spoke, her head kept low, her eyes averted. "What do you wish to wear, my Lord?"
White, he almost answered her. White for mourning.
"What do you suggest?" he asked, studying her more carefully, noting how delightfully she was formed, how petite her figure. "What would my father have worn to Council?"
She looked up at him, then quickly away, clearly bewildered by what was happening. "Forgive me, Prince Sau-leyan, but I am the T'ang's maid. Surely . . ."
He shouted at her, making her jump. "Be quiet, girl! You'll do as you're told or you'll do nothing, understand me?"
She swallowed, then nodded her head.
"Good. Then answer me. What would my father have worn to Council?"
She bowed, then moved past him, keeping her head lowered. A moment later she turned back, a long robe held over one arm.
"Lay it out on the bed so that I can see it."
He watched her move across to do as she was told, then smiled. Yes, the old man had chosen well with this one. He could imagine how the girl had wormed her way into the old boy's affections. She had kept his bed warm many a night, he was sure.
She had turned away from him, laying out the heavy, formal robe. He moved closer, coming up behind her, then bent down and lifted her gown up from the hem, exposing her buttocks and her lower back. She froze.
"You didn't answer me earlier," he said. "1 asked you—"
"I heard you, Excellency."
Her tone was sharper than it should have been. Impertinent. He felt a sudden flush of anger wash over him.
"Put your hands out," he said, his voice suddenly cold. "Lean forward and stretch them out in front of you." Slowly she did as she was told. "Good," he said. "Now stay there."