“Escaped? What do you mean, escaped!”
Chancellor Cai Jing let the screeching wash past him like river water around a rock. Grand Marshal Gao Qiu was such a detestable sort, and an unfathomably far two ranks below Cai Jing on top of it—Cai Jing, who was Grand Chancellor of the Secretariat and one of only three men sitting second to the Emperor himself. But Gao Qiu was also a childhood friend of the Emperor—the Lord of Heaven, may he reign forever—and such relationships had to be coddled.
Besides, he could use Gao Qiu. The insipid man was so very easily manipulated.
Cai Jing let his writing brush bend against the paper with a pressure that did not vary, the same weight, the same angle, brush straight in his hand, back straight where he sat, feet flat against the floor with the evenness of meditation stones. His calligraphy was the most famous in the Empire, and with reason. Cai Jing prided himself on his very smooth temper.
Meanwhile, Gao Qiu rained blows and verbal abuse on the soldier who had tentatively interrupted their conference. Grabbed the messenger’s own cudgel and whacked him with it, then kicked him in the shins. He had no restraint at all.
Cai Jing had people beaten because he enjoyed it. Gao Qiu did it because he lost control. This, Cai Jing felt, was a salient example of their differences.
Cai Jing’s brush lifted in a perfect hook stroke before slowly and rhythmically falling to meet the silkiness of the paper again. The gold and pearls of his rings glittered as the sun slanted across his work and kissed the perfection of his movement. The calligraphist is himself a poem, he mused.
“Forget this woman,” he interjected, when Gao Qiu had paused for a moist and heaving breath. “We have loftier concerns. To go back to these border skirmishes in the north…”
They were more than skirmishes. Cai Jing had some small talent at augury, and what he saw in the bones had begun a deep vein of worry within him. The darkness of the omens, the echoes of smoke and fire and blood screaming endlessly into the wind … the depth of the possible horror yawned nearly unfathomable. The idea that civilization could fall—it seemed too massive a threat, and yet it had begun haunting his sleep.
The Empire. The Empire’s very existence could tumble into such an abyss.
It must be put right.
“The skirmishes are nothing,” Gao Qiu spat. “Exaggerated reports so we’ll send them money and men. The northern outposts are spoiled.”
Unfortunately His Imperial Majesty agreed, and so did the Chancellor of the Ministry and the Minister of War—or at least, they did not dare to voice an opinion distinct from their Emperor. Cai Jing was not a man given to despair, but he had begun to feel the very alien sensation of frustration. He had tried to convince His Imperial Majesty to consent to a better-disciplined military, to no avail; to further deployments to the north, to no avail; to drafting more able-bodied young men from the outlying provinces to serve in their Empire’s divine army … all to no avail. The rural provinces had more children than they had purpose for, useless mouths that were only a strain on the Empire and could be put to good use here … Cai Jing had argued further conscription would only be to those families’ benefit—as members of the Guard, the young men would have a chance at advancement and status they never would back in their home counties. But such a policy would be unpopular in the southwest, and His Imperial Majesty, Lord of Heaven, long may he reign—he wished to be loved.
A sentiment that did not bother Cai Jing.
Failing at improving their traditional defenses, Cai Jing had changed tactics. An army did not have to be large or well-supplied if it towered over its foes technologically. The Empire of Song was in the midst of an explosion of science and invention, and Cai Jing had applied himself to a hunt for all manner of sorcerers, machinists, alchemists, architects, ghost hunters, chemists, and scholars of immortality. He’d also pored over scrolls and records for lost discoveries that might revolutionize a war effort, and he’d sought any who had made a study of such things. So far, however, his quest had been stymied at every turn. He had already beheaded a fair few monks who had claimed such knowledge only to come up short, and he’d assembled only a fraction of the expertise he strove for.
He thought he’d had all the luck of a magnificent breakthrough after the recent incident at Anfeng Monastery and its results, but even that had, for some unfathomable reason, failed to whet the Emperor’s interest.
The Emperor. Lord of All, protector of the realm. Unquestionably correct in all he did and yet Cai Jing could not help but fear he led them toward an uncertain doom. He’d dismissed all of Cai Jing’s efforts as frivolous and had refused more than a pittance of resources and support.
Even after Anfeng.
Cai Jing had tried to explain what it might mean … for the Empire, for the power of the Emperor himself, and his throne …
He had begun debating whether he ought to leak the reports of the incident at Anfeng Monastery among the Court, records he’d so carefully destroyed. Letting that secret dangle would be a dangerous move, yes, but surely it would force the Emperor’s hand …
Not that Cai Jing thought himself above the Lord of Heaven. Of course not.
Gao Qiu had turned his rants back on the unfortunate messenger. “Find her family—parents, brothers, uncles and aunts! Issue arrest warrants for them all. They will pay for this. And that sniveling guard who ran—he must have helped her. I’ll cut the truth from him and have him hacked to death in the public square!”
“Yes, Grand Marshal—yes, it shall be done—”
“And what’s-her-name, who was with her? Lu. The Lady Lu, drag her in here by the hair!”
“Yes, Grand Marshal—is that Lady Lu the wife of the district magistrate?”
“No, you dolt! The ridiculous one, the rich unmarried dilettante who writes all the circulars. Why are you still in my sight?”
The soldier bowed his way backward as rapidly as possible and shuffled out.
Gao Qiu’s face had flushed red, and spittle flecked his lips. “Lin Chong defied me,” he informed Cai Jing, as if to justify himself.
“And she’ll receive her reward, I am certain,” Cai Jing answered calmly. Lady Lu, with the circulars … hmm. He had read something of this woman’s, he thought …
“Ignore this trouble to the north,” Gao Qiu said, swinging himself carelessly to lounge on a settee as if there had been no intrusion to their meeting. “The Empire’s army is larger than the whole Jin population. Something gets out of hand, we’ll throw our military at the northern border and have it be done.”
“And the reports of strange new tactics and sorceries of the Jin?” Cai Jing asked. “If such a move would lose us half the Imperial Army, when we have other borders to defend—what then?”
“That’s what an army’s for. Besides, half of ours would mean we scour them from existence, and then that’s one less border.”
Cai Jing did not sigh, and his hand did not grip more tightly, and the brush kept moving slowly and steadily, but it was all a closer thing than he might have liked.
Cai Jing had decades of experience at maneuvering a court, however. As many as the white hairs of his beard, so were the governmental victories he’d engineered without their initiators being any the wiser. Many times he did it to secure his own preferred policies, but this … this was far more important. Far greater than himself.
This was the future of the Empire. The future of everything.
It would not be the first thing he failed at.
“This woman,” he mused. “This arms instructor who so irritated you.”
“Made an attempt on my life, you mean. She was out to assassinate His Majesty the Emperor!”
Of course she was. Cai Jing kept that thought to himself. “Perhaps some unnatural talent is what you need here,” he said aloud, as if the idea was just coming to him. “You could be right that advancing our military as a whole is not necessary. In fact, I am sure you are right—after all, your position is one of military matters, and I am merely our Empire’s legislator.” Gao Qiu smirked, well-pleased—exactly the reaction Cai Jing had aimed for. “But forget the north for a moment. This woman has weaseled away from your grip not once now, but twice. Think what power you would have to correct her offense if you only had other tools at your disposal.”
Gao Qiu’s expression went thoughtful. “What other tools?”
“I know His Imperial Majesty does not wish the army to have unlimited strength, to ensure their proper subservience to the Empire. But one or two people could be directly controlled by you. Or, even better, an artifact under your own power—which could then be put to your own worthy uses, as judged by you alone.”
Gao Qiu grunted. “Those clumsy sons of whores in the army I sent for scholar’s stone, they lost the lot of it.”
And Cai Jing’s heart leapt, even though he gave no sign of it. Gao Qiu had been hunting down scholar’s stone.
What a thing to let slip! It had become so fashionable in these modern days to scorn god’s teeth as mere cheap tricks, not useful for anything beyond a boxing match—but Gao Qiu coveted even some adjacency to their power, enough to send men on a deadly fool’s errand. Cai Jing berated himself for not having ferreted this secret out earlier. This useless, odious little man was about to become exactly the game piece he had been searching for.
He carefully kept his face schooled to quiescence.
“You would be a most deserving possessor of a god’s tooth,” he murmured. “I can think of no one better fit.”
Gao Qiu snorted lightly, but it was all for show. He wanted this. He wanted it past all current propriety.
Cai Jing strongly suspected that the reason for the vocal dismissal of god’s teeth was not their lack of power, but the fact that those in power could not control them. They could be stripped from their rightful family lines—and were, sometimes, if one were so foolhardy as to risk conflict with the custodian of a god’s tooth—but all that did was reduce the number of artifacts with any strength in them. Somehow, a god’s tooth always knew how it had transferred ownership. Knew, and rendered its own judgment.
The Emperor himself could not dictate different. Even he, the Lord of Heaven—may he live forever—had fully more than a dozen god’s teeth in his noble possession, but all mostly minor, ineffectual ones. Likely given as tribute over the years and thenceforth sucked of their vitality, though no one dared make mention of it.
The sole member of high government with a true heirloom god’s tooth was the Minister of War, Gao Qiu’s direct superior. In fact, Cai Jing strongly suspected that Minister Duan had only attained his position because of the possession, no matter how people scorned god’s teeth as meaningless relics in this forward-thinking era. The Minister did have some small worth as a general, but military prowess had not been the deciding factor in such posts in a long time … and as for political savvy, Minister Duan had so laughably little that he had never even attempted to curry favor with Cai Jing the way he should have, which was mildly shocking and more than a little irritating.
If Gao Qiu obtained a god’s tooth … if Gao Qiu obtained one far more powerful than the Minister’s …
Not that Cai Jing would particularly appreciate Gao Qiu as Minister of War either, but at least he was malleable. And for Cai Jing that would be but a first stroke of the brush.
“I have been applying myself to much research on the subject of late,” Cai Jing went on in a meditative tone. As if this meant nothing. An academic fancy rather than the potential fate of all. “I meant it militarily, for the service of Empire, but if that is truly unneeded I shall cede such knowledge to you. You see, I have become convinced that finding a god’s tooth or having one pass between custodians are not the only ways to acquire one.” He paused, subtly building the drama. “I believe that a god’s tooth could be made.”
Gao Qiu sat up straight, like a hound with a scent.
“It would be a vast scientific undertaking, and possibly involve the use of scholar’s stone, as you yourself so adroitly suspected,” Cai Jing flattered, carefully not mentioning Anfeng and all its implications. “But think of it. If we could create a god’s tooth more powerful than any seen on this earth, one that would make its possessor unto a god himself … a god’s tooth which has never been found or possessed by anyone before. If you convince His Imperial Majesty that we should apply resources to producing such an object … allow me to help you attain this, Marshal Gao. And then you will also have assuaged the silly fears of an old man, in that if you attain great power for the Empire, no one will dare bring us harm.”
If Cai Jing could at last gain the Emperor’s blessing, this would be the largest stride forward he’d yet been able to make. With the resources of the Imperial Treasury and the right manpower—and Gao Qiu would act as his tool.
The future of the Empire must be safeguarded.
Cai Jing neglected to mention exactly how foolish bonding with such an experiment might prove to be. The men from Anfeng had succumbed to devoured minds and souls within mere moments of their attempts to draw on any otherworldly power. Of course Cai Jing meant to fix that, but it was not his fault Gao Qiu was too seduced by the potential potency of a god’s tooth to ask the obvious questions. Too swept away—and too arrogant—to wonder why Cai Jing did not prefer to preserve this power for himself.
Gao Qiu’s fist closed against itself, as if he could reach out and strangle the woman he held his silly grudge against. “I’ll crush everyone who dares defy me. I’ll drink to that. Let’s call a servant for some wine.”
“Tea for me.” Cai Jing’s brush slipped up off the page, the final stroke. The characters of the old adage glowed in balanced perfection: Inner tranquility enables great accomplishment.
Time to pretend to be grateful to Gao Qiu for humoring an old uncle.
Happily, the wooing and flatteries were cut short after not too lengthy a time when a servant announced the same soldier as before. The hapless man entered Cai Jing’s sanctum and stopped just barely close enough to satisfy etiquette—and still out of Marshal Gao’s petty striking range. Then he bowed deeply to both of them.
“Grand Chancellor Cai Jing, Grand Marshal Gao Qiu. The constables have brought the Lady Lu Junyi, if it pleases you. Shall she be placed under arrest?”
“No,” Cai Jing said quickly, as if the answer were so obvious he could assume it. He thought he remembered, now, what he had read by this woman … “The marshal merely wishes to ask her some questions. Send her in.”
Two constables accompanied Lady Lu into the room. They had not bound her, and they did not abuse her—according to her station, no doubt—but her posture radiated displeasure. She might comport herself properly, as a woman of wealth and status, but her face and movement gave away how close her heart lived to defiance.
She thought herself better than the law of the Empire.
Arrogance. Cai Jing could use that. She should be grateful to be treated so kindly.
“You,” growled Gao Qiu. “You’re friends with Lin Chong. Where is she?”
Lu Junyi bowed very deeply, but she stopped short of taking herself to the floor, Cai Jing noted. “I swear to you, Grand Marshal, I have no knowledge. The last I knew she was embarking to Canghu, on your orders. I understood she intended to serve her sentence as a loyal citizen of the Empire.”
“Well, she didn’t!” Gao Qiu got right up in her face. So unbecoming, to allow this inferior person such power over him, but he never understood such things.
Gao Qiu reached out a hand with snakelike speed and grasped Lu Junyi’s hair, yanking her head back to face the carved ceiling. “What do you know? You helped her escape, or you know who did. Tell me!”
Lady Lu’s breath came fast but steady. “I promise you—if Arms Instructor Lin had shared any plans of escape with me, I would have counseled her against it. I would have told her to serve the sentence for which she was convicted—”
“Counseled her? Surely you mean you would have reported her to the magistrate,” Cai Jing said amiably.
The woman’s eyes darted to him, sideways from where Gao Qiu still held her, and in that moment he was certain. She did know something about her friend’s escape, something she was refusing to say. Or, at least, she suspected.
Fascinating. Cai Jing didn’t care in the least about Gao Qiu’s obsession with some woman who had scorned him—but secrets, he thrived on secrets. And knowing Lady Lu’s secret just might bring a perfect end to this afternoon.
“Perhaps the Lady Lu could formally disown her friend,” he suggested. “As witnessed by us now. Questioning of her household would prove whether she has remained in the city, and presumably show she had no direct hand in this vile treachery, but a denunciation would preclude any indirect involvement with no doubt.”
Gao Qiu scowled and shoved at Lu Junyi with his hand, finally releasing her. She stumbled and almost fell, but caught herself on one knee, head bowed. Her disarrayed hair fell across her face.
“Well, Lady Lu?” Cai Jing said. “We await your words. Surely it is the easiest thing on earth to denounce a traitor to the Empire.”
The woman wet her lips, her fingers clutching white-knuckled against the skirts of her outer robes. “I disown former Arms Instructor Lin Chong as ever having the smallest breath of friendship with me. She is a traitor to His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, and she can live or die according to his will. I renounce any interest in her fate.”
“Very pretty,” Cai Jing said.
Lady Lu’s eyes came up—just a little, suspiciously. She must worry whether he spoke in jest. Precisely as he intended.
“Grand Marshal Gao,” he continued, “surely such a well-crafted word from such a respected lady is all you need. You can freely pursue other avenues in this matter. I will bring texts to your chambers later to explore our other discussion.”
“Arrest her,” Gao Qiu spat to his constables, as he turned heel to leave Cai Jing’s chambers.
“A moment, gentlemen,” Cai Jing interrupted. “Grand Marshal, I can only presume that your need of investigating this woman is at an end, as she knows nothing. I would be much indebted if you let her remain here with me.”
His beady eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Come now, Marshal. Do I ask you why you have a woman brought to your chambers? You understand the delicacy. Consider the matter closed, and I shall come join you later.”
It was not the type of dismissal Gao Qiu could question. With one last glare at Lu Junyi, he gestured the constables sharply behind him and left.
Lady Lu lifted her eyes again to Cai Jing. Apprehensive. Sometimes sparing a person was a more powerful move than punishment—they could never escape the awareness of how he held their life in his fingers.
Cai Jing indicated the seat Gao Qiu had vacated. “Join me, Lady Lu. I shall call for more tea.”
She rose, slowly, and settled herself on the settee, just at the edge.
“You need not fear me,” Cai Jing said. “I have no intention of telling Marshal Gao you know about that convict woman’s escape.”
The quicksilver flick of her eyes again. Startlement and fear. She was a good liar, but not good enough. “I swear to you, Grand Chancellor, I know nothing—”
“Save your words.” He waved her silent. “I wish to discuss something else. When Marshal Gao had you brought here, I had a memory of seeing one of your circulars. ‘Incendiary composites in the modern field of war,’ I believe was the title.”
“Yes, I…” She sat up straighter, gathering herself. “Monks of the Fa and priests of the Renxia have utilized incendiary mixtures for quite some time for religious and celebratory purposes, but only recently has control of such tinctures begun to outstrip their inherent instability. However, I believe it is only a matter of time before this power is harnessed for destruction, and it would greatly benefit the Empire to be prepared against such weapons, either in rebellions or in incursions by our foes.”
“Tell me,” Cai Jing said. “What do you know about the alchemy of such mixtures?”
“They are not strictly alchemy, though alchemists discovered them. But even the untrained could compose the ingredients. A mix of sulfur, saltpeter, and birthwort in the proper proportions, with realgar and honey…” She had gained animation as she talked, but now she trailed off, her eyes catching on her interlocutor. “Forgive me, Chancellor. I write on many passing fancies; I had not conceived of someone of your stature seeing my nonsense. I would hardly be equipped to provide the Imperial Army with incendiary mixtures for use in war. Even among those who know its use, the instability is still far too great for focused offensive purposes, and any experimentation without expertise would likely result in loss of limb or lives.”
Cai Jing said nothing, simply pinned her with his eyes.
Her head dropped. “My apologies, Grand Chancellor. I am guessing at your questions before you pose them.”
With acuity, though. This Lady Lu was a sharp woman.
He could definitely use her.
“If you believe they cannot be harnessed, why do you write warning of their use in weapons?” Cai Jing asked.
Lu Junyi hesitated, seeing the trap. “I only meant—if others, if our enemies, had made discoveries we have not yet stumbled upon…”
She swallowed.
“If it’s only a matter of time, as you say, then it is obvious we must act on experimentation in order to reach such discoveries ourselves before anyone else, is it not? Now, the monks use these compounds in purifications and rocketry. You are the first I have seen suggest their use in war.”
“Not the first, Chancellor. It is said the Rebellion of the Three Sects used a similar mixture to create their flaming arrows, though they were destroyed before we could know. Others have also written such cautions, such as—such as Scholar Ling Zhen. Or Scholar Zeng Gongliang. I am merely the conduit of the conversation, and hardly an expert.”
Ling Zhen was in prison for suspected sedition, and Zeng Gongliang was dead. Cai Jing should know; he’d had the man executed for inciting disaffection against the state. Pity. If he’d known Scholar Zeng had such mastery locked away inside, he mightn’t have been so hasty.
Cai Jing’s fingers stroked against the stones of his rings. “Tell me. What would happen if you combined this science with the properties of scholar’s stone?”
That startled her. Her eyes widened, and she shifted on the edge of her seat. “I—I have no knowledge of that. Forgive me. I—I would conjecture that the instability would be multiplied by many times…”
She wasn’t wrong. Cai Jing kept that information to himself for now.
“I am assembling a group for the development of scholarship in this area,” he said instead. “You will have access to any resources you require. You and the others I designate will be responsible for using these materials in the creation of new weapons for defending the holy borders of His Majesty’s Empire, according to my specifications. Your usefulness will be rewarded, your failure punished, and if you speak of any of this to another person, you will be executed.”
Gao Qiu would have his god’s tooth. Whether he lived through the experience was yet to be seen, but either way, great strides would be made in the Empire’s security.
The conclusion was all but wrought.
This time Lu Junyi did go to her knees. She slid elegantly from the settee to bow with hands flat against the polished floor. “Honorable Grand Chancellor, you flatter me too much. I fear my abilities are too feeble for such an important duty—”
“If you refuse, I can always tell Marshal Gao that you gave him false testimony.”
“I—I swear to you, Honorable Grand Chancellor—”
“Swear all you want. It hardly matters whether I’m correct, only that I choose to say so. But I am. Correct.”
She stayed bent to the ground, but it seemed he had shocked her to silence. Good. It would never do for a subordinate of the Empire to think too much of herself.
Still. As the Renxia would say, hard and soft practices were sharper blades than each alone: Cai Jing knew it was best to offer punishment on one side while dangling a plum reward on the other. Even if that reward might never be made truth.
“You are being drafted into service of the Empire,” he soothed the woman. “It is a great honor. If you perform ably, the Emperor himself may take notice of you. He enjoys intelligent and dutiful women, and if you do your job well he may even be moved to credit you with a place among his concubines. I have seen such advancements before; it is not out of the question. This is a magnificent chance for you to draw the eyes of the Lord of Heaven.”
Lu Junyi still did not rise, but the fight seemed to seep out of her, turning her supplicant position more truth than lie. And Cai Jing knew he had tied the knot correctly.
“It is my privilege to serve the Empire,” she murmured to the floor.
As it should be.