by Ng, Wayne;
“You did only what I would do for you, dear cousin.”
“Be that as it may, Gou, you don’t want to answer to the King this time,” the Major said.
Gou held his hands open. “Then be my guest, Major. Just don’t get too close. The blood will splatter out all over that fresh uniform of yours.”
The Major glared at Gou, who backed away but lingered nearby. He leaned over Mei.
“You already know who I am. And I already know more about you than you realize.” He bent his head closer to her ear. “I know you did nothing wrong. I know you were taken by force, perhaps several times over.”
Gou and the interrogators moved closer, straining to catch what he was saying.
“I suspect it is not your assailant you are protecting, but your family,” Major Huang continued.
Mei’s eyes brimmed over, and tears streamed down both sides of her face. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly but her breathing was labored. She lost control of her bladder and could no longer keep her head above the daggers below. Her weight was now partially supported by the numerous fast-growing stalks piercing into her.
“Just as I suspected. Then it is a person of great position who is responsible, am I not correct?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And you were either bribed, coerced or manipulated into accusing Confucius, correct?”
Her whisper was only barely, understood. “Yes.”
“Prince Chao has already been accused by his brother before the King. So your struggle now is only for your family. You naming Prince Chao merely serves to validate Prince Meng’s accusation. Your death will tie up one of his loose ends.”
Gou chortled. “Why are you wasting time with this talk, Major?”
The Major peered up at Gou. “We have the same purpose, but differ in our approach. She is too strong for you. She will not break. She is not afraid of death or of pain. But she fears for her family.”
The Major returned to Mei. His pace quickened.
“When did this occur?”
Her reply could barely be heard. “The night… the court learned… learned of… the desecration of tombs.”
“Was it in the Palace?”
“Yes,” she said as though it was her dying breath.
“Untie her, now!” the Major shouted. He slid his arms between the bamboo stalks to prop up her bloodied, limp body.
“What? She have given us nothing. She’s playing with you, Major,” Gou said.
“Do it now and I’ll explain later. Otherwise you will have to justify why you let your prisoner die when she is the only witness who can point to the man who betrayed the King.”
The three interrogators stood by while the Guardsmen untied Mei and carefully laid her on the ground on her stomach. The Major ripped off part of his tunic and those of the other Guardsmen and wrapped them around her many wounds as makeshift bandages, working feverishly to stop the bleeding. Then he sent for a physician from the armory.
All this time, I continued to wait in the Archives, unaware of the outcome of Mei’s meeting in the Palace. However, I unexpectedly received a message on a tablet with a map and instructions urging me to go to the bamboo grove. At first, I assumed it was from Prince Meng, then noticed the insignia of a small Black Serpent on the corner of the tablet. The Black Serpent—Mei’s silent ally. I wasted no time considering its origins and rushed out immediately. I exited the Palace through the little-used north gate. I noticed a physician and one of the Guardsmen ahead of me on the same path. I chose to follow them discretely at a distance.
They walked just over a li into the forest and stopped in a small clearing. I hid behind a cluster of bamboo and peered out cautiously. At first, I could only hear rapid whisperings. I edged closer until I saw Major Huang and the armory physician bent over an apparently lifeless body. I recognized it as that of Mei on her stomach, back reddened with blood. At first I thought it was an illusion of some sort, that my fatigue and worry were playing tricks with my mind. I blinked to re-focus and realized my eyes did not deceive me. I stuffed my fist into my mouth to stop from crying out and dropped to my knees, fighting back tears. I buried my head between my knees and asked myself, why and how this had come to pass. I was tempted to present myself to these men, to implore them to make me their prisoner instead. I wanted to tell them that Mei was defiled by Prince Chao, and it was only through my meddling that she had been further entrapped in the web of Palace intrigue. It was I who should have been there, not her. Despite having armored myself with all my beliefs, with the Way, suddenly I felt paralyzed with fear. I could not move. The truth was that I was not then, nor have I ever been, very heroic.
The physician worked quickly and began dressing the wounds. I could now see that Mei was still breathing, but only barely, and that she had lost consciousness. It was a few moments before I realized that they were trying to save her.
“We won’t be answering for this one, Major, I can guarantee you that,” I heard a guard with a deformed ear say.
“You won’t have to, but you may soon have to choose sides. She did not give us a name, but she gave us the means of determining it. Why would she refuse to tell us the name? Think about it. Only a crown prince could command such fear so that she would rather die under extreme pain. Who else but a crown prince would benefit more from the defamation and scandal mongering of another prince? ”
The guard looked puzzled. “Accuse a prince and you might as well say your goodbyes.”
“Correct. She likely knew this and had no intention of doing so, not even when under such intense pressure. Nor would she have accused Confucius without having been persuaded somehow. Whoever arranged this played her and knew she would be tortured but also expected her to break. Though she likely knew the identity of her attacker, she was expected to name a false assailant, someone far more believable than the scholar.”
“What? Slow this down for me.”
“Think, my dear cousin. In the darkness of the Palace, with her eyes downcast or gazing elsewhere, or bowing on the floor, a man in disguise could easily overpower her. He could be dressed in royal garments, he could sound and smell and act like another. She would know no better, at least not at first. That she became with child was unfortunate for her, but perhaps presented a new opportunity for the attacker.”
“But how can you know this for sure, Major?”
The Major stared off. “I do not. But I think she knew the true identity of her attacker. She could not name him with Wu’s men about. She could not bear witness that one of the Princes in particular was in the Palace that night. Prince Chao is innocent of this attack. He will want to defend his name.”
His words struck me like a blow and I almost cried out. It came to me then, all too late. Prince Meng had played each and every step of this game, and no one was more duped than I. The sudden realization that I had contributed to a most odious of plans became clear. What a complete and utter imbecile I felt myself to be.
I stepped out of the bamboo cluster.
“And I can bear witness that Mei was indeed coerced into accusing Confucius, knowing full well that her accusation of Prince Chao would cost her and her family their lives.”
The Major raised his halberd and the Guardsmen rushed towards me, throwing me to the ground.
“Lao Tzu?” exclaimed the Major. He lowered his halberd and motioned for the Guardsmen to release me.
“It is I, Lao Tzu, the dupe. I am the one who deserves to be there.” I nodded to the bamboo where Mei had been hung. I went to her and fell to my knees beside her. I could not even touch her at first, so mortified was I. Then I assisted the physician in wrapping the rest of her wounds. The physician explained that the loss of blood was grave, perhaps fatal, but that her major organs were fortunately still intact.
I then turned to face the Major. I explained that I had been told that Prince Chao s
uspected myself and my staff of treason, that he believed a spy was nestled within the Archives. I shared how I had been told that Confucius was to be given a new Ministry with wide powers. One of my staff had already been questioned and beaten. He was told under threat of death that he had to spy on me. By persuading Mei to accuse Confucius, I was able to discredit him as well as the younger Prince, thereby also ensuring that the right Prince would assume the throne. More importantly, neither my staff nor Mei would be harmed.
The Major chuckled. “Forgive me Master Scholar, but for all your lofty ideals and your proximity to Prince Meng, neither Prince Chao nor anyone could suspect you of being a spy any more than they could a child of mastering a twelve foot halberd in battle. Prince Chao’s search for spies never even paid a cursory glance your way.”
Confused, I looked at him. “But Kao Shin was beaten. He urged me to run.”
“I don’t doubt that, but it is I who oversees investigations into spies. I neither sanctioned nor oversaw any activity related to you or the Archives. There is little that I do not know.”
“Then tell me this, Major. How is it that you speak so assuredly that Prince Chao was not the attacker?”
The Major drew me away from the physician and explained that as Commander of the Guardsmen, he made sure always to know the whereabouts of each member of the King’s family and when they left the Palace, even if they disapproved of such shadowing. It was also customary to follow all those new to the Palace until it was determined that they were not a threat to the Royal Family. This included myself, he explained. On the day in question, Prince Chao left the Palace soon after the King’s tirade. The Prince shed his Royal garb for one of the Guardsmen’s uniforms. I rode with him to an inn on a small hill outside of Chengzhou, overlooking the river. The Prince drank there quietly for much of the night. It was unlikely many could identify the Prince out of his customary garb. But he was definitely not in the Palace until much later that evening. It was someone disguised as him.
It sounded like the same inn where I once had met Mei and later sat with Confucius. It was then that I felt old and most unwise, as though I had thought myself riding the currents of existence only to suddenly realize that I’d been lodged on the beach the whole time, watching the tide ebb away.
“Major, I too have been taken for a fool. Betrayed and played like a child. I persuaded her to accuse an innocent man. How contemptuous I am.”
The Major sighed. “You were not alone. Nor do I believe you engineered this.” He raised an eyebrow. “Prince Meng is now the clear adversary. We have all underestimated his strength and guile. For such a miscalculation, it may be too late.”
I nodded, and the interrogators gasped at the implications of what the Major had said. “Clearly subterfuge is not my strength.” I shook my head. “But I suspect that as long as Mei lives, she is a loose end for Prince Meng. Therefore we are all in danger.”
“For you, that may depend. You played your part for Prince Meng,” the Major said. “If you continue to support his moves he may protect you from what follows. But you too are a loose end. Your other option is to be truthful, which may engender a positive response from Prince Chao. For the rest of us, keeping Mei alive risks our own lives. But attempts at virtue may be all we have left as the Palace is thrown into chaos.”
“It is the Son of Heaven who will have the final word,” I said.
“The Son of Heaven? He has not been far from his final words for some time. If he is to have any bearing on this, it will have to be soon.”
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“Do you not know?” The Major shook his head. “How anyone can suspect you of anything but that which you are, is beyond me. Our Son of Heaven has the consumption disease. We have been awaiting his last breath for months. Thus I am not surprised Prince Meng is making such a desperate last attempt. He would be among the first to know that our Son of Heaven’s time and judgment is limited. But there are other voices within the inner court. One of them diverted me here after I unsuccessfully searched for Mei in the Royal Dungeons.”
“Of whom do you speak?” I asked.
“How trustworthy would I be if I were to divulge my source to you? But to be perfectly honest, I know not the origins of this information. I was given this.” The Major pulled a small tablet from his tunic, similar to the one given to me, carrying the seal of a Black Serpent.
I paused. “This is indeed the case with me as well. I was sent instructions from this Black Serpent urging me to this spot. But what are we to do now?”
“Did anyone see you come here?”
I shook my head. “I may not have the swiftness of the young, but neither do I create their disturbance.”
“You could risk a return to the Palace. Perhaps your innocence may afford you some time to decide where you stand. But that is a perilous route. Prince Meng may see your integrity as a danger, one he may not wish to leave dangling.”
The Major turned towards Mei. His face softened. “If I had a battalion of men with her courage and determination…. Her wounds are severe. She should not be moved far. But her life depends on leaving this place as quickly as possible. Wu’s men will soon be swarming all over this area.”
He ordered his Guardsmen and interrogators to construct a litter, and to shelter her amongst millet farmers whom he trusted, across the river where it bent just west of the bridge. He looked at me. “Come with us scholar,” he said. “There is nothing you can do by returning. I cannot imagine Prince Meng tolerating your presence.”
I was torn. I wanted to confront Prince Meng and hold him to account for what had happened. Yet I also wished to accompany Mei, not only to do what little I could to help her, but because the prospect of returning to the Palace and facing the advancing storm also greatly distressed me. To flee at that moment would have branded me a traitor. I had little doubt that my work and my Archives would also be discredited.
“I do not disagree with you Major. But I cannot join you just yet. There is someone I left behind. I will find you across the river.”
The Major looked incredulous. I bade him farewell and took the path back, not towards the Palace, but to my quarters where Kao Shin remained. If I was to flee, I owed it to him to take him with me.
17
Madness Revealed
It was early evening when I returned in haste through the north gate, back into Chengzhou. The guards cast a wary look at me. Only then did I realize that Mei’s blood was smeared on my robe. I deserved that mark of stupidity. In hindsight, I saw much too late that Mei had seen through Prince Meng before any of us. She had said her woman’s instinct saw past the Prince’s chivalry and grace and sensed what was beneath that veneer. I did not realize she had been referring to Prince Meng, not Chao.
I changed direction towards my residence, taking the quickest route to Kao Shin, dodging vendors hoping to do end of day sales and ignoring the cacophony of people milling about. I had hoped Kao Shin had heeded my instructions and remained there. As I approached I could see that our front door had been smashed in. I entered with much caution, searching for evidence of undesirables.
I stepped inside and called out for Kao Shin. A stool had been overturned, clay pots were shattered on the ground and heavy blotches of blood led to a dark corner. I called his name out again, then almost stumbled upon a motionless form in the dark. It was Kao Shin. I reached for a lantern and lit it.
He rested on his back, his hands open with palms by his side. His stomach had gushed blood all over his tunic, spilling onto the ground into two small pools. Despite his injuries, his bruised face and youthful eyes appeared at peace. Or perhaps that is what I wanted to believe, for his death was on my hands and guilt has never been something I swallowed easily.
The dissonance of the outside world lapsed into silence and restfulness descended. A thin shaft of the dusk’s last glow streamed in through the door, illum
inating columns of dust dancing in every direction. I sat on the ground, closed Kao Shin’s eyes and placed his hands together on his chest.
I leaned against the wall to clear my head. The past few days had whirled out of control. I scarcely recognized myself, let alone others I had trusted, in particular Prince Meng. I had managed to avoid thoughts of him, not wishing to face my anger and disappointment. I had taken to him like a father to a son. In him, hope and innocence had seemed to spring. I could not bring myself to call this a betrayal. Betrayal occurs when men are flush with want and desire, when they strive to control and conquer that which should not be governed nor hoarded. I could not admit to myself that the Prince who was closer to my soul than any other person, or had seemed to be, would prove to be thus.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when soldiers stormed in and yanked me onto my feet. I tried to kick them off me but I was quickly held down.
“Force is the choice weapon of the weak and insecure,” I declared. “This isn’t necessary. Nor was that.” I nodded towards Kao Shin.
The smaller of the soldiers was a sergeant who backhanded me across the cheek.
“Traitor! You will speak only when told to do so.”
The blow awakened me from a corporeal lethargy. “Unhand me. What manner of cowardice did it take for armed soldiers to slay one so recently removed from boyhood?”
“Slay?” the sergeant asked. “That’s a fancy word for slicing up that little peach of yours.”
They dragged me through the streets as curious onlookers gawked from partially-closed doors and windows. I raised my voice at the soldiers. At every step I tried biting, kicking and pulling away. They laughed at me but I shook inside, seething with anger at Kao Shin’s death. I was taken back to the Palace where most of the Royal Guardsmen appeared to be scrambling. Orders were being shouted, torches were lit, weapons were distributed, horses saddled.