other, so why
not now? Wang Ta-hung was weak and foolish, that was true; but there
were six other T'ang to lead and guide him. That was the strength of
the Seven, surely? Where one might fall, the Seven would stand. So it
was. So it would always be.
He turned and
looked down. There, on the low table by the window, was his bow, the
elegant curve of it silvered by the moonlight. He bent down and
lifted it, holding the cool smooth surface of the wood against his
cheek a moment. Then, abruptly, he spun about, as he'd been taught,
the bow suddenly at his waist, the string tensed as if to let fly.
He shivered,
then felt himself grow still, looking back.
He had not
thought of it in a long time, but now it came clear to him, the
memory released like an arrow across the years. He saw himself, eight
years old, sat beside Fei Yen in the meadow by the lake. He could
smell the faint sweet scent of jasmine, see the pale cream of her
sleeve, feel once more the shudder that had run through him as it
brushed deliciously against his knees. Across from them sat his
brother, Han Ch'in, his booted feet like two young saplings rooted in
the earth, his hands placed firmly on his knees.
Wang Sau-leyan .
. . Yes, he remembered it now. Fei Yen had been talking about Wang
Sau-leyan and how he had been caught in his father's bed. Ten years
old, he had been. Only ten, and to be caught with a girl in his
father's bed!
Li Yuan frowned,
then swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, remembering how Fei Yen had
laughed, not shocked but amused by the tale. He recalled how she had
fanned herself slowly, how her eyes had looked briefly inward before
she raised her eyebrows suggestively, making Han guffaw with
laughter. Fei Yen. His brother's wife. And now his own betrothed. The
woman he would be marrying only weeks from now.
And Wang
Sau-leyan? Yes, it all made sense. He remembered how Wang Hsien had
exiled his youngest son, had sent him in disgrace to his floating
palace, a hundred thousand li above Chung Kuo. And there the
boy had stayed a whole year, with only the T'ang's own guards for
company. A year. It was a long, long time for such a spirited child.
An eternity, it must have seemed. Long enough, perhaps, to break the
last thin ties of love and filial respect. What bitterness that must
have engendered in the boy—what hatred of his captors.
Li Yuan looked
down at the bow in his hands and shivered violently. That day with
Fei Yen, it had been the day of the archery contest—the day she
had let his brother best her. And yet, only two days later, Han Ch'in
was dead and she a widow.
He shuddered,
then saw her smile and tilt her head, showing her tiny perfect teeth.
And wondered.
* *
*
SUN li hua ,
Master of the Inner Chamber, stood by the door, watching as the
doctors examined the body. He had made his statement already, sat
beneath the glaring lights of the Security cameras while monitors
tested his vital body signs for abnormalities. He had passed that
test and now only one thing stood between him and success.
He saw them
mutter among themselves, then Fischer turned and came across to him.
"It tests
out, Master Sun," he said, making a small bow. "The ho yeh was pure."
"I did not
doubt it," Sun answered, allowing a slight trace of indignation
to enter his voice. "Doctor Yueh is a trusted servant. He had
served the T'ang for more than forty years."
"So I
understand. And yet men can be bought, can they not?" Fischer
smiled tightly, then bowed again and walked on, leaving the room
momentarily. Sun watched him go. What does it matter what he suspects, he thought. He can prove nothing.
He turned, then
went across to where the doctors were busy at their work. One cradled
the T'ang's head, while a second delicately examined the area where
the ear had been cut away. They would make new ears from the T'ang's
own genetic material, for a T'ang must be buried whole. But as to
where the originals had gone, there was no sign as yet, just as there
was no sign of