Ice and Fire: Chung Kuo Series (43 page)

‘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 dipped 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.

IN TIMES TO COME…

C
hung 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.

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