Jade Dragon Mountain (35 page)

Tulishen began to protest, and Jia Huan turned a pitiless face to him. “So easy,” he said. “A strong man pursues truth. But I knew I could count on your cowardice.”

“I do not wish to hear any more of this,” snapped Tulishen. “You are caught, and your evil words no longer have power. You will be turned over to the Emperor, and he will sentence you to a painful and dishonorable execution for your crime. He will want to know why, if your hatred was for the Jesuits as you claim it is, you were willing to subject your own Emperor to humiliation.”

“Because,” said Jia Huan in a tired voice, “he is weak. The Jesuits flattered his vanity, and so he allowed them to insinuate themselves into the empire. He would not have made such a decision if his own ancestors were Chinese. But he is Manchu. He does not share our blood. He deserves a reminder that he must rule with more wisdom and pride.”

Jia Huan's gaze became unfocused and distant. “And then the Emperor, punished for his vanity, would show his wrath against the Jesuits. Those
holy men
, as they call themselves. Beneath their condescension lies only sick envy. It oozes like pestilence from their delusions, their hypocrisy. They want what all foreigners want. Our wealth. Our porcelain. To open China to the world. How meaningless—China is the world. No other empire, no other language, no lands, and no earth need exist. These pathetic foreigners scrabble for our silver and our tea like fish driven mad by flesh. And after the Emperor had sent them to their graves the borders would be shut for an age.”

“But why was it necessary?” It was Lady Chen who spoke. She had turned her back to Jia Huan, and posed the question to Li Du. “Brother Pieter might not have discovered the plot. Why was it necessary to kill him?”

“Lady Chen's question is wise,” said Tulishen. “The murder was a foolish risk.”

“It was evil,” said Li Du sadly, “but it was not foolish. Jia Huan's skill is his ability to know the desires of those around him. He saw that Brother Pieter would not stop once his curiosity was piqued. This is a characteristic of Jesuits, but anyone could immediately see the curiosity burning in Pieter. As soon as Pieter mentioned his interest in astronomy, I believe Jia Huan began planning for his death. With the tellurion in the mansion, Jia Huan knew that it was only a matter of time before Pieter discovered the truth. And when Jia Huan overheard the argument between Pieter and Sir Gray, and knew that Pieter had already examined the tellurion, he knew that he had to act immediately.”

“I would have taken the journal,” said Jia Huan, “but it was not in the old man's room. And there were too many people about for me to return and search for it. First Gray, then Lady Chen, then the doctor and the rest.”

“You tried to make the death appear natural. But in case that failed, you planted the tea to indicate the Khampa. And finally, you decided to conclude the investigation by framing and murdering me on the eve of the Emperor's arrival.”

Jia Huan nodded. “You were meant to be drinking the wine now, as you usually do, as twilight falls on Dayan.”

“Hamza drank it instead.”

Jia Huan did not seem to hear him. “What did you think of my letter? Did I capture your voice well?”

“It was your madness and isolation in that letter, not mine.”

“But it would have been believed. Your cousin was ready to believe it.”

Tulishen began to bluster. “I promise you, Li Du. I did not know. You must admit that your actions have been strange. But I would never, I assure you…” He trailed off.

Meanwhile Jia Huan had turned to the tellurion. “It is beautiful,” he said quietly. “Not the gems and palaces and mountains. They are there to impress the greedy and unintelligent. But this—” He reached a finger gently toward the glowing red sun. “This is very clever. The foreign company offers the world to the Emperor of China. A flattering metaphor. But China will not be taken.” He paused thoughtfully, then added, “It, too, would have mocked the Emperor tomorrow, with silence, knowing and hiding the true time of the eclipse from him.…”

“Step away from it,” said Gray. “It is time for this bizarre confession to end. I want to know what is to be done. The Emperor will be here in the morning, and everything is thrown into confusion. Brother Pieter's death was tragic, and Li Du has shown himself a superior mind to this villain, but now there are greater concerns to address. The future of our empires are at stake, and cannot be left to misunderstanding and grief because of a madman.”

“The ambassador is right,” said Tulishen. “Mu Gao—summon the guards to take the traitor away.” Mu Gao rose and tapped his way out of the room and across the library floor.

Jia Huan did not struggle when the guards arrived. When he was gone, Lady Chen went immediately to the magistrate and began to whisper in his ear. As she spoke, Tulishen's face began to clear. The color returned to his skin and he pulled his shoulders back to stand straighter. When they had finished their whispered conference, Tulishen turned to Gray. “I understand your concern,” he said, “but the situation can be faced. You will see how the powerful in our empire can restore order under any circumstance. Cousin,” he said, turning to Li Du, “you have been of service to the empire and you need have no worry that your presence in Dayan will bring the law upon you. The matter is now one of politics and strategy, and your help is no longer required. You may go.”

Too relieved to care that Tulishen's condescension was already reasserting itself, Li Du bowed and left the room. In the library he found Mu Gao. “You!” said the old man. “You did very well. And tomorrow you will drink tea with me and my friend. You will come?”

“I would like that,” said Li Du, and meant it. “Will you be in the Office of Records?”

“Yes—yes. That is a good place. We will meet there. Old Mu will want to hear it all.”

Li Du left the library to find that it had grown dark outside, and the stone guardians were lantern lit. As he looked at them for the second time that evening, there rose before Li Du's eyes an image of a distant future. He saw the tortoise's shell patched with moss, the lion's snout chipping to rough stone, the bird's feathers smoothed away and the dragon's features indistinguishable from those of a humble dog. What did time have in store for them? What empires would they see rise and fall? With a tired sigh, Li Du turned and walked away.

*   *   *

“But what I don't understand,” said Hamza later as they sat together in his room, cheerfully lit by candles and a brazier by the open door, “is—” He stared at the steam rising from his cup. “No,” he said. “No, I don't understand any of it. Tell it to me again.” He was already much recovered, and was nibbling at a warm piece of bread while the inn clamored around them in drunken revelry and loud competition over who knew the most about the strange events of the evening.

Li Du sighed. “The festival was created around the eclipse of the sun.”

Hamza waved his hand. “Yes—yes, I know. Very important. Display of Emperor's legitimacy in distant provinces.”

“Jia Huan killed Pieter in order to protect a plot to eliminate the Jesuits from China.”

“And you say the Dominicans were involved?”

“The Dominicans believed that Jia Huan was working for them. They thought the fall of the Jesuits would give them a renewed chance at winning the Emperor's favor themselves.”

“But they were as stupid and misguided as the woman who stole her neighbor's magical stewpot.”

“I can only assume your analogy is correct. Jia Huan used the Dominicans to acquire the information he needed in order to forge the calendar.”

“So,” said Hamza, handing Li Du the piece of bread so that he could warm it again in the fire, “the Emperor made a prediction using the calendar that was wrong.”

“Yes. And because it was all happening during the southern tour, there was less scrutiny. The Emperor would spend the entire year far away from the Jesuits at the observatory. The calendar proved accurate all year, so what reason was there to doubt its accuracy now?”

Hamza nodded. “So the Emperor was to have been embarrassed. The Jesuits were to have been blamed.”

“And Pieter posed a threat to the plot just when it was about to succeed.”

“And Jia Huan killed him. Pieter spoke of how he loved red tea in the evenings.” Hamza's voice was sad.

“As well as of his journeys with the Khampa. And of course, Jia Huan knew about the jewelvine in the library. Jia Huan saw a way to kill Pieter. He stole the Khampa purse from the market—as Tulishen's chief secretary he was aware of all the traders and merchants, even the humble ones, who had entered the city to sell goods in the market.”

“Then the night of the banquet…”

“Jia Huan had many duties that evening, which gave him an excuse to move freely through the mansion. It would have been easy for him to plant the Khampa purse during dinner when everyone was occupied. Later he had only to make the final arrangement of the hot water and tea on Pieter's desk. He kept watch on the stage courtyard, and as soon as Pieter rose to leave he went quickly ahead of him to the room. He left just before Pieter and Gray arrived.”

“And yes—Gray was there and took the cup. I understand that part.”

“From that moment onward Jia Huan did all he could to manipulate the magistrate into covering up the death. He urged Tulishen to blame the Khampa. And when that failed and it seemed as if the murder might affect the festival after all, he prepared a scene in which I was to have committed suicide, having written a note confessing to the crime.”

“Well, I wouldn't have believed it of you,” said Hamza, staunchly.

“Thank you.”

“So what is going to happen tomorrow?”

Li Du looked at the fire. “I don't know,” he said.

“You don't know?”

“I wanted to know who killed Pieter. Now Jia Huan is caught. I have little doubt that the Emperor will find a way to save face, but that is not my concern.”

“And the ambassador? Was he furious?”

Li Du gave a little smile. “He was greatly discomfited, yes.”

Hamza shook his head. “The political games are very strange,” he said. “Do you think the Emperor will bite the Company's lure and catch the empire on that silver hook?”

“Again, I do not know.”

“For a man who has just proven himself a clever and brave detective, you do not know very much. What of Jia Huan? What will happen to him?”

“He will be judged and condemned by the Emperor himself. It will all be done very quietly.”

“Yes,” said Hamza, staring into the brazier coals, “as are so many violent things.”

*   *   *

Li Du lay in bed for a long time, unable to sleep. Through the inn's walls he could hear songs of revelry over the deep crackle of bonfires and the clatter of tin cups full of wine. Bridles jangled and horses snorted and stamped. Even in the dead of night more people were arriving. Meat was grilling in great wafts of savory smoke and spice, and game tiles rattled like river pebbles. The festival was almost upon them.

When Li Du finally went to sleep that night, he dreamed of being lost in a library whose books were spinning stars that would not remain on their shelves. They moved around him in bright circles and arcs, so that he did not know where he was or how to find the volume he sought.

 

1 Day

 

Chapter 20

Tulishen rode out before dawn in full court attire. His blue satin robe was as stiff and shining as if it were made of hammered metal, and the wide white cuffs of his sleeves covered his wrists and hands as he held the reigns of his horse. His hat, obsidian black, formed a stiff curve across his creased forehead. Around him rode his finest bannermen, armed with bows and arrows, and carrying pennants that fluttered blue and yellow in the wind.

While Tulishen was greeting the Emperor outside the city, Li Du was enjoying a plate of fresh steamed dumplings. The dough was as translucent as flower petals, and the pork and spring green scallions inside were steaming hot and seasoned with salt and red pepper. As he ate, he observed the changes that had worked their way through the city during the few hours he had slept.

A new schedule hung on the wall beside his table, so new that the ink used for the thickest brush strokes was still wet. Where the original schedule had announced the eclipse, this new version provided a list of renowned performers who would take the stages that afternoon. The eclipse, again in bright crimson, now occupied the middle hours of the following day.

But it was in listening to the conversations around him that Li Du perceived the real effort that had been made the night before.

“It was an azure dragon, not a phoenix,” came a reproachful voice from a nearby table.

The others at the table questioned the speaker, a fat merchant in green silk, on how he could be sure.

“Because I heard it directly from one of the magistrate's own attendants, who was present when the communication from the Emperor was received. An azure dragon heard that the Emperor was here and in its excitement flew through the sky to visit him. It appeared to him in the sacred pond by the temple outside the city, and the Emperor
spoke
to it.”

There were impressed gasps from the listeners.

“Yes,” continued the merchant, “the dragon appeared in the pond as the Emperor's own reflection. Of course the subject of their conversation is beyond our comprehension—they speak in a celestial language—but the Emperor, who is very wise, saw that when the dragon flew through the night sky toward this province, its whiskers stirred the stars—as ripples disturb flowers that have fallen in water—and altered their position.”

“But is that a bad portent, or is it auspicious?”

“Oh, it is a very good portent. And the Emperor has changed the time of the eclipse in order to account for the dragon's movement. It will be tomorrow, which means that the acrobats we saw in the market will perform today.”