Jelka was waiting by the ornamental pool. She stood there in the shade of the ancient willow, dropping pebbles into the water and watching the ripples spread. Tolonen stopped, looking across at his daughter, his whole being lit by the sight of her. She was standing with her back to him, the white-gold fall of her hair spilling out across the velvet blue of her full-length cloak. Her two bodyguards stood nearby, looking about them casually, but as Tolonen came nearer they came to attention smartly.
Jelka turned at the sound and, seeing him, dropped the stones and ran across, a great beam of a smile on her face. Tolonen hugged her to him, lifting her up off the ground and closing his eyes to savour the feel of her arms about his back, the softness of her kisses against his neck. It was a full week since they had seen each other last.
He kissed her brow, then set her down, laughing softly.
‘What is it?’ she said, looking up at him, smiling.
‘Just that you’re growing so quickly. I won’t be able to do that much longer, will I?’
‘No…’ Her face clouded a moment, then brightened again. ‘I’ve brought Li Yuan and his betrothed a gift. Erkki has it…’ She turned and one of the two young guards came across. Taking a small package from his inner pocket, he handed it to her. She smiled her thanks at him, then turned back to her father, showing him the present. It fitted easily into her palm, the silk-paper a bright crimson – the colour of good luck and weddings.
‘What is it?’ he asked, letting her take his arm as they began the walk back to the palace buildings.
‘You’ll have to wait,’ she teased him. ‘I chose them myself.’
He laughed. ‘And who paid for them, may I ask?’
‘You, of course,’ she said, squeezing his arm. ‘But that’s not the point. I want it to be a surprise, and you’re useless at keeping secrets!’
‘Me?’ He mimed outrage, then roared with laughter. ‘Ah, but don’t let the T’ang know that, my love, or your father will be out of a job!’
She beamed up at him, hitting him playfully. ‘You know what I mean. Not the big ones – the little secrets…’
They had come to the main entrance to the Halls. While a servant took Jelka’s cloak, Tolonen held the tiny package. He sniffed at it, then put it to his ear and shook it.
‘It rattles…’
She turned and took it back off him, her face stern, admonishing him. ‘Don’t! They’re delicate.’
‘They?’ He looked at her, his face a mask of curiosity, but she only laughed and shook her head.
‘Just wait. It won’t be long…’
Her voice trailed off, her eyes drawn to something behind him.
‘What is it?’ he said quietly, suddenly very still, seeing how intent her eyes were, as if something dangerous and deadly were at his back.
‘Just something you were saying, the last time General Nocenzi came for dinner. About all the ways there are of killing people.’
He wanted to turn – to confront whatever it was – but her eyes seemed to keep him there. ‘And?’ he said, the hairs at his neck bristling now.
‘And Nocenzi said the simplest ways are always the most effective.’
‘So?’
‘So behind you there’s a table. And on the table is what looks like another gift. But I’m wondering what a gift is doing, lying there neglected on that table. And why it should be wrapped as it is, in white silk.’
Tolonen turned and caught his breath. ‘Gods…’
It was huge, like the great seal the T’ang had lifted earlier, but masked in the whiteness of death.
‘Guard!’ he barked, turning to look across at the soldier in the doorway.
‘Sir?’
‘Who left this here?’
The look of utter bemusement on the soldier’s face confirmed it. It was a bomb. Someone had smuggled a bomb into the Palace.
‘No one’s been here,’ the soldier began. ‘Only the T’ang’s own servants…’
Tolonen turned away, looking back up the corridor. There were three other guards, stationed along the corridor. He yelled at them. ‘Here! All of you! Now!’
He watched as they carried the thing outside, their bodies forming a barrier about the package. Then, his heart pounding in his chest, he turned to Jelka, kneeling down and drawing her close to him.
‘Go in. Tell the T’ang what has happened. Then tell Nocenzi to get everyone into the cellars. At once. Interrupt if you must. Li Shai Tung will forgive you this once, my little one.’
He kissed her brow, his chest rising and falling heavily, then got up. She smiled back at him, then ran off to do as he had told her. He watched her go – saw her childish, slender figure disappear into the Hall – then turned and marched off towards the Gatehouse, not knowing if he would ever see her again.
Nocenzi and young Ebert met him returning from the Gatehouse.
‘Is it a bomb?’ Nocenzi asked, his face grim.
‘No…’ Tolonen answered distractedly, but his face was drawn, all colour gone from it.
Nocenzi gave a short laugh of relief. ‘Then what is it?’
Tolonen turned momentarily, looking back, then faced them again, shaking his head. ‘They’re bringing it now. But come. I have to speak to the T’ang. Before he sees it.’
Li Shai Tung got up from his chair as Tolonen entered and came across the room. ‘Well, Knut, what is it?’
‘Chieh Hsia…’ Tolonen looked about him at the sea of faces gathered in the huge, lantern-lit cellar, then bowed his head. ‘If I might speak to you alone.’
‘Is there any danger?’
‘No, Chieh Hsia.’
The T’ang breathed deeply, then turned to his son. ‘Yuan. Take our guests back upstairs. I will join you all in a moment.’
They waited, the T’ang, Tolonen, Nocenzi and the young Major, as the guests filed out, each stopping to bow to the T’ang before they left. Then they were alone in the huge, echoing cellar.
‘It was not a bomb, then, Knut?’
Tolonen straightened up, his face grave, his eyes strangely pained. ‘No, Chieh Hsia. It was a gift. A present for your son and his future bride.’
Li Shai Tung frowned. ‘Then why this?’
‘Because I felt it was something you would not want Li Yuan to have. Perhaps not even to know about.’
The T’ang stared at him a moment, then looked away, taking two steps then turning to face him again.
‘Why? What kind of gift is it?’
Tolonen looked past him. There were faint noises on the steps leading down to the great cellar. ‘It’s here now, Chieh Hsia. Judge for yourself.’
They brought it in and set it down on the floor in front of Li Shai Tung. The wrapping lay over the present loosely, the white silk cut in several places.
‘Was there a card?’ The T’ang asked, looking up from it.
Tolonen bowed his head. ‘There was, Chieh Hsia.’
‘I see… But I must guess, eh?’ There was a hint of mild impatience in the T’ang’s voice that made Tolonen start forward.
‘Forgive me, Chieh Hsia. Here…’
Li Shai Tung studied the card a moment, reading the brief, unsigned message, then looked back at Tolonen. He was silent a moment, thoughtful, then, almost impatiently, he crouched down on his haunches and threw the silk back.
Li Shai Tung looked across at Tolonen. The Marshal, like Nocenzi and young Ebert, had knelt, so as not to be above the T’ang.
The T’ang’s eyes were filled with puzzlement. ‘But this is a wei chi board, Knut. And a good one, too. Why should Li Yuan not have this or know of it?’
In answer Tolonen reached out and took the lids from the two wooden pots that held the stones.
‘But that’s wrong…’ the T’ang began.
Wei chi was played with black and white stones: one hundred and eighty-one black stones and one hundred and eighty white. Enough to fill the nineteen by nineteen board completely. But this set was different.
Li Shai Tung dipp
ed his hands into each of the bowls and scattered the stones across the board. They were all white. Every last one. He lifted the bowls and upended them, letting the stones spill out onto the board, filling it.
‘They feel odd,’ he said, rubbing one of the stones between thumb and forefinger, then met Tolonen’s eyes again. ‘They’re not glass.’
‘No, Chieh Hsia. They’re bone. Human bone.’
The T’ang nodded, then got up slowly, clearly shaken. His fingers pulled at his plaited beard distractedly.
‘You were right, Knut. This is not something I would wish Yuan to know of.’
He turned, hearing a noise behind him. It was Klaus Ebert. The old man bowed low. ‘Forgive me for intruding, Chieh Hsia, but I felt you would want to know at once. It seems we have unearthed part of the mystery.’
Li Shai Tung frowned. ‘Go on…’
Ebert glanced up, his eyes taking in the sight of the wei chi board and the scattered stones. ‘The search of the palace Marshal Tolonen ordered has borne fruit. We have discovered who placed the present on the table.’
‘And is he dead or alive?’
‘Dead, I’m afraid, Chieh Hsia. He was found in one of the small scullery cupboards in the kitchens. Poisoned, it seems. By his own hand.’
The T’ang glanced at Tolonen, his eyes suddenly black with fury. ‘Who was it? Who would dare to bring such a thing into my household?’
‘One of your bondservants, Chieh Hsia,’ Ebert answered. ‘The one you knew as Chung Hsin.’
Li Shai Tung’s eyes widened, then he shook his head in disbelief. ‘Chung Hsin…’ It was inconceivable. Why, Li Shai Tung had raised him from a three-year-old in this household. Had named him for his strongest quality.
Yes, Chung Hsin, he’d named him. Loyalty.
‘Why?’ he groaned. ‘In the gods’ names, why?’
Ebert was staring at the board now, frowning, not understanding. He looked across at Tolonen. ‘Is that what he delivered?’
Tolonen nodded tersely, more concerned for the state of his T’ang than in answering his old friend.
‘Then why did he kill himself?’
It was the T’ang who answered Ebert’s question. ‘Because of the message he delivered.’
‘Message?’ Old Man Ebert looked back at his T’ang, bewildered.
Li Shai Tung pointed down at the board, the scattered stones.
‘The board… that is Chung Kuo. And the white stones…’ He shuddered and wet his lips before continuing. ‘They represent death. It is a message, you see. From our friend, DeVore. It says he means to kill us all. To fill Chung Kuo with the dead.’
Tolonen looked up sharply at mention of DeVore. So the T’ang understood that too. Of course…
Ebert was staring at the board now, horrified. ‘But I thought stones were symbols of longevity?’
‘Yes…’ The T’ang’s laughter was bitter. ‘But Knut has had them tested. These stones are made of human bone. They will outlast you and I, certainly, but they symbolize nothing but themselves. Nothing but death.’
‘And yet it might have been worse, surely? It could have been a bomb.’
Li Shai Tung studied his Councillor a moment, then slowly shook his head. ‘No. No bomb could have been quite as eloquent as this.’ He sighed, then turned to Nocenzi. ‘Take it away and destroy it, General. And, Klaus…’ He turned back. ‘Say nothing of this to anyone. Understand me? If Li Yuan should get to hear of this…’
Ebert bowed his head. As you wish, Chieh Hsia.’
Li Yuan had been watching for his father. He had seen the guards come and go with the mystery package; had seen both Old Man Ebert and the Marshal emerge from the cellar, grim-faced and silent, and knew, without being told, that something dreadful must have happened.
When Li Shai Tung finally came from the cellar, Yuan went across to him, stopping three paces from him to kneel, his head bowed.
‘Is there anything I can do, father?’
His father seemed immensely tired. ‘Thank you, my son, but there is nothing to be done. It was all a mistake, that’s all.’
‘And Chung Hsin… ?’
His father was quiet a moment, then he sighed. ‘That was unfortunate. I grieve for him. He must have been very unhappy.’
‘Ah…’ Yuan lowered his head again, wondering whether he should ask directly what had been beneath the white silk. But he sensed his father would not answer him. And to ask a question that could not be answered would merely anger him, so he held his tongue.
He searched for a way to lighten the mood of things, and as he did so his fingers closed upon the eight tiny pieces in the pocket of his ceremonial jacket.
He looked up, smiling. ‘Can I show you something, father?’
Li Shai Tung smiled bleakly back at him. ‘Yes… But get off your knees, Yuan. Please… This is your day. We are here to honour you.’
Yuan bowed his head, then stood and moved closer to his father. ‘Hold out your hand, father. They’re small, so it’s best if you look at them closely. They’re what the Marshal’s daughter gave us for a betrothal gift. Aren’t they beautiful?’
Li Shai Tung stared at the tiny figures in his hand. And then he laughed. A loud, ringing laughter of delight.
‘Knut!’ he said, looking past his son at the old Marshal. ‘Why didn’t you say? Why didn’t you tell me what your daughter had brought?’
Tolonen glanced at his daughter, then stepped forward, puzzled.
‘What is it, Chieh Hsia?’
‘You mean you do not know?’
Tolonen shook his head.
‘Then look. They are the eight heroes. The eight honourable men.’
Tolonen stared at the tiny, sculpted pieces that rested in the T’ang’s palm, then laughed, delighted. ‘It’s an omen,’ he said, meeting the T’ang’s eyes. ‘What else can it be?’
The T’ang nodded and then began to laugh again, his laughter picked up by those nearest until it filled the Hall.
He looked down at the tiny figures in his palm. How many times had he seen them on the stage, their faces blacked to represent their honour? And now here they were, sculpted from eight black stones! It was as Knut said; it was an omen. A sign from the gods. These eight to set against the vast, colourless armies of the dead.
Yuan was standing nearby, his mouth open in astonishment. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What have I missed?’
In answer the T’ang placed the pieces back in his son’s palm and closed his fingers tightly over them.
‘Guard these well, Yuan. Keep them with you at all times. Let them be your talisman.’
His son stared back at him, wide-eyed, then, with the vaguest shake of the head, he bowed low. As my father wishes…’
But Li Shai Tung had let his head fall back again, a great gust of laughter rippling out from him, like a huge stone dropped into the centre of a pond.
Let him hear of this, he thought. Let DeVore’s spy report to him how the T’ang laughed in his face defiantly. And let him learn, too, of the second gift of stones – of the eight dark heroes; the eight men of honour.
Let him hear. For I will place the last stone on his grave.
END OF BOOK FOUR
IN TIMES TO COME…
Chung Kuo: Ice And Fire is the fourth volume of a vast dynastic saga that covers more than half a century of this vividly realized future world. In the sixteen volumes that follow, the Great Wheel of fate turns through a full historical cycle, transforming the social climate of Chung Kuo utterly. Chung Kuo is the portrait of these turbulent – and often apocalyptic – times and the people who lived through them.
The story of the young prince, Li Yuan – his love for the beautiful Fei Yen, his accession to the throne, and his long, relentless struggle against the traitorous DeVore – is interwoven with the tales of many others, among them the brilliant young scientist Kim Ward, whose ‘web’ will one day make it possible at last for Mankind to reach the stars, and the artist Ben Shepherd, whose development of
a completely new art form – the Shell – will revolutionize the culture of Chung Kuo.
This epic tale continues in Book Five, The Art Of War. Five years after the destruction of the starship The New Hope, the Council of Seven is preparing to meet and discuss the way ahead. In the long and bitter war they have just fought they have emerged triumphant but greatly weakened. The days of speaking with one voice are past and there is dissension among them. But DeVore thrives on such dissension and, ruthlessly casting off his First Level co-conspirators, makes a new alliance among those disinherited billions in the lowest levels of the City.
The problems for the Seven are vast. Even so, there is one solution that – even if it leaves the underlying malaise untreated – might yet prove successful.
Li Yuan’s plan is to ‘wire up’ the whole population of Chung Kuo; placing delicate electronics in every citizen’s head that would enable the Seven to trace and thus control them. Among those brought in to try to make the ‘wire’ a reality is the young Clayborn boy, Kim Ward.
Ben Shepherd, meanwhile, discovers an artistic vocation, and soon the unexpected happens – this cold and seemingly distant young man falls in love. For the young Prince, too, love is a distraction from his work, the fulfilment of a long cherished dream. But his love is far from the fragile, compliant creature she outwardly appears.
In Chung Kuo: The Art Of War the Great Wheel turns into a new, more dangerous phase – from which no one will escape unscathed.
CHARACTER LISTING
MAJOR CHARACTERS
DeVore, Howard
A major in the Security forces of the T’ang, Li Shai Tung, he is also the leading figure in the struggle against the Seven. A highly intelligent and coldly logical man, he is the puppet master behind the scenes as the great ‘War of the Two Directions’ begins.
Ebert, Hans
Son of Klaus Ebert and heir to the vast GenSyn Corporation, he is a captain in the Security forces, admired and trusted by his superiors. Ebert is a complex young man: a brave and intelligent officer, he also has a selfish, dissolute and rather cruel streak.
Ice and Fire: Chung Kuo Series Page 35