Under Heaven

There came a rustling sound from the trees, then a voice beyond the spill of light. “Gracious lady, Master Shen. Someone is walking past the lake. We can kill him, but it would not be wise.”

It was the Kanlin leader. “Where is Wei Song?” Tai asked quickly.

“Farther along the garden, awaiting instruction.”

“Kanlin, is the man carrying wine?” Rain asked.

“He is, gracious lady.”

She stood up. “That’s Hwan. Do not harm him. Tai, I mean it … you must go.”

He hesitated, then did something she couldn’t see, or the Kanlin. He stood up, looked at her in lantern light.

She clasped her hands before her, bowed formally. “My lord, it was too kind of you to visit your servant.”

“I will see you again?” He found it difficult to speak.

“I would like that, but it is hard to know the winding of paths. As you said, my lord. Tonight’s … was not the greeting I would have most wanted to give you.”

She still knew exactly what to say to set his heart beating.

“Nor mine for you,” he said.

“It pleases me to hear that,” said Spring Rain, eyes demurely lowered.

“Come, my lord!” said the Kanlin.

Tai turned, and went from her.

SHE WATCHES HIM go down the steps and away into darkness. She hadn’t even seen the Kanlin, only heard a voice in the night. She looks to her pipa on the railing, sees the moths still fluttering.

Then she sees what he has left behind him on the bench where they’ve been sitting. She picks it up. Looks at it under the light. Her hand begins to tremble.

She swears aloud, in a voice that would shock many of the men who once valued her for serene grace in the Pavilion of Moonlight.

She looks up. The guard had said …

She calls out, “Wei Song? Are you still there?”

A moment, no sound, no woman appearing from the blackness. Then, “I am, my lady. How may your servant be of use to you?”

“Come here.”

Out of the night garden the woman comes. The one she’d met here earlier this year, had hired and sent west. The Kanlin woman bows.

“The servant will be here very soon,” she says.

“I know. He has seen you before.”

“I remember.”

Rain looks at her. A small woman, hooded. She extends the ring Tai has left for her.

“Take this. Give it back to Master Shen. Tell him I could never sell it, or wear it, or even have it cut down to sell, without being at risk. There is writing on the band! This is from the emperor, isn’t it?”

“I have never seen it,” says the other woman. “He didn’t wear it, riding.” Her voice is odd, but Rain has no time to work that through. “I believe the emperor might have been with …”

“Indeed. This ring suggests he was, or sent someone. Tell Tai he must have this, and be seen to have it. He has to wear it. It will protect him. He needs to learn these things. He can’t go around making gifts of something like this. Take it.”

The ring is stunningly beautiful, even in this light. It would match her eyes. She believes—in fact she is certain—that Tai will have thought of that. Not his reason for doing this, but a part of his wanting to.

The Kanlin hesitates, then bows again, takes the ring. “I am sorry I failed you,” she says. “I did not reach Kuala Nor, and I—”

“Master Shen told me,” Rain says briskly. “He also said you fought attackers for him. And he is alive. No one failed. Do I need to pay you more, to continue guarding him?”

The Kanlin, who is smaller than Rain remembered, draws herself up straight. “No,” she says. “You do not.”

“Why not?” says Rain.

“We have been retained by Lady Wen Jian. Ten of us. He is defended.”

“She did that? I see. It is out of my hands, then,” says Rain. She isn’t sure why she says it that way. She looks at the woman more closely, but the light isn’t strong, and the Kanlin is hooded.

The other woman seems about to say something. She doesn’t. She goes down the stairs and east through the garden, the way the others have gone.

Rain is alone. Not for long, and she knows it. She picks up her pipa, is tuning it when she hears Hwan calling to let her know—quite properly—that he is approaching.

He comes into the gazebo bearing a round tray with a small brazier heating wine, and a cup for her.

“Why are you here?” she asks coldly.

He stops, shaken by her tone. He bows, handling the tray carefully. “My lady. It is cold now. I thought you might want—”

“I left instructions, did I not, Hwan?”

She knows why he is here. There is a balance to be achieved in this, as in all else. She needs his devotion, but he must not be allowed to assume, or presume. There are lines to be drawn, not to be crossed.

“My lady,” he says, abjectly. “Forgive me. Your servant thought only that you might—”

“That I might want wine. Very well. Leave it and go. You will not be punished, but you are aware that the master has instructed that servants are to be beaten for failing to follow instructions. He said it is our task to ensure this.”

It is not, she knows, the response he expected. That is all right, she thinks. He bows again, the tray wobbles slightly.

“Put it down and go,” Rain says again. She allows her voice to soften. “It was a kind thought, Hwan. Tell my woman that I will be back shortly. I will want a fire, to take the edge off the night.”

“Of course, my lady,” he says, and backs away. “Do you … do you wish an escort back through the garden?”

“No,” she says. “I just gave you your instructions, Hwan.”

“Yes … yes, my lady.”

She smiles, makes certain he sees it. She is in the light. “No one will be told of this. You are a loyal servant and I value you for it.”

“My lady,” he says again, and leaves her, bowing twice.

Dealing with men of all stations and all ranks, learning their needs and anxieties … is this not what a girl from the North District, especially from one of the best houses, is supposed to be able to do?

She actually does want the wine he’s brought. She removes the top of the warmed flask and pours for herself. Trained girls know how to pour, another skill they are taught.

She seems to be crying, after all.

She sips the spiced wine and puts down her cup. She takes the pipa and begins to play, for herself, but she knows someone will be listening, and she owes him this.

An emerald ring, she is thinking. From the emperor. Perhaps from his own hand. Tai hadn’t said. A delicacy in that. The world is a place of surpassing strangeness, she thinks. And then she is thinking, without knowing why, of her lost home in the west.

QIN SAW THE MAN and his guards come back over the wall. It was harder to get up and out. You needed to be boosted over, and the last one had to be exceptionally skilled at climbing. The last Kanlin was the woman, Qin saw, and she seemed to do it easily.