“Still, I was the cause of it.”
“And so I will ask that you leave at first light and never return.”
Nicholai bowed again. “May I risk a possibly impertinent question?” When the abbot nodded, Nicholai asked, “I thought that you were pacifists. Why -”
“Buddhists are pacifists,” the abbot answered. “We are Daoists. We eschew violence except when necessary. But it is the mission of our order to offer hospitality. So we were forced to choose between two competing values – our desire not to harm our fellow creatures and our vow of sanctuary to our guests. In this case, we chose the latter.”
“You fight well.”
“When one chooses to fight,” the abbot replied, “it is one’s responsibility to fight well.”
Nicholai found Yu in his chamber, angrily stuffing his small gear into his haversack.
“They were your own men,” Nicholai said.
“I know that.”
His face already showed a loss of innocence. Nicholai felt some sympathy, but it did not prevent him from pressing the necessary question. “How am I supposed to trust you now?”
Yu led him out of the monastery to a wide spot on the trail, where a soldier was bound around the chest to the trunk of a tree.
It was Liang. Blood ran down his nose and a purple welt swelled under his eye. He had been beaten.
“He was one of the sentries,” Yu said disgustedly. “The one who survived. He claims he fell asleep, but I suspect that he deliberately let the bandits pass. Either way he is guilty. The monks would not let me execute him at the monastery so I brought him here.”
“You should not execute him at all.”
“At the very least, he failed in his duty.”
“So did we,” Nicholai said. “We should have been better prepared.”
“He caused the deaths of comrades,” Yu insisted.
“Again, as did we,” Nicholai argued. “Men aren’t perfect.”
“The new man must be,” Yu responded. “Perfect, at least, in his duty.”
Nicholai looked at Liang, who trembled with cold and fear. While we debate philosophy, Nicholai thought. It’s cruel. He tried again. “Perhaps he was performing his duty to Ki.”
“His duty is to the people.”
“He
In response, Yu pulled his pistol from its holster and held the barrel to Liang’s head. His hand trembled as the boy cried and begged for his life.
Yu pulled the trigger.
“And that is how you know,” he said, “that you can trust me.”
96
DIAMOND FOUND HER in Vientiane, in the square outside the Patousay.
The monument, even with its Laotian spires, reminded him a little of an
“It reminds me a little of home,” she said. “In Montpellier we have something similar.”
“What are you doing in Laos?” Diamond asked.
“Looking for work, monsieur,” she answered. “What are
“Looking for you.”
“Ah, well.
“Yours too, maybe,” Diamond said. He was instantly jealous of Nicholai Hel. The thought that the arrogant bastard had slept with this gorgeous creature was infuriating.
“How so?” she asked.
“We might have something for you,” he said.
“ ‘We’?” she inquired, her tone slightly sarcastic and tantalizing at the same time. “You mean ‘we Americans’?”
“Yes.”
“I usually deal with Monsieur Haverford,” she said.
She pronounced it “Averfor,” which Diamond found stimulating beyond belief. “He’s on another assignment. He sent me. I’m Mr. Gold.”
Her smile was sensuous, ironic, and infuriating. “Really?”
“No.”
They walked out of the park onto Lane Xang.
“What do you have in mind, Monsieur Gold?” she asked.
Diamond told her, then added, “I think you’ll like it. It could be very lucrative, and Saigon is a lot like France, isn’t it?”
“In some aspects, yes.”
“So your answer?”
“What does that mean?”
She trained the full force of her green eyes on him and smiled. “Why not?”
“Good,” Diamond said, his throat tight. “Good. Uhh, do you need a taxi? Where are you staying?”
“At the Manoly,” she answered. “I can walk, thank you.”
“I could walk with you.”
She stopped walking and looked at him. “What are you asking now, Monsieur Gold?”
“I think you know,” Diamond answered, summoning up his nerve with the thought that the woman was, after all, a glorified whore. “I mean, you said you were looking for work.”
She laughed. “But not
They quickly made the necessary arrangements for her trip to Saigon and he walked away hating her.
But the whore will serve her purpose, he thought. The file said that Hel had fallen in love with her and intended to return to her. Good – if the son of a bitch is alive, he’ll come find her in Saigon.
And I have connections in Saigon.
Solange made sure that the disgusting American wasn’t following her, and then returned to her hotel and had a mint tea in the quiet of the shady garden.
Saigon, she thought.
Very well, Saigon.
Nicholai had yet to surface and she had to face the probability that he never would. Men die and men disappear, and a woman must take care of herself. The abhorrent “Gold” was right that Saigon was a congenial city, French in many ways.
97
THEY REACHED THE RIVER LATE THAT AFTERNOON.
Nicholai had to admit it was something of a shock.
Early in winter, he had expected the Lekang to be at its lowest flow. Still, beyond the long eddy where the waiting rafts were beached on the pebbled shore, the river ran fast, full, and angry.
The roar of water running shallowly over rock was impressive, even intimidating, but there was no time for trepidation. Nicholai worried that Ki might take another shot here where they would be pinned down without cover on the narrow strip of beach. He was glad to see that Yu had posted two of his “true believers” to cover the
