Thirteen Orphans (49 page)
Righteous Drum nodded. “The families survived because the emperor who promised they would be left alone kept his word. He did not particularly wish to do so, but his hold on the Jade Petal Throne was tenuous, based on many promises to many people. To break a promise made so publically before his reign was solidified would have been to risk rebellions within his court. The general who deposed this emperor honored the treaty as well, for this was one way he could make clear that his quarrel was with the immediately late emperor personally, rather than with his policies.”
Nissa rubbed her forehead. “All these emperors and deposed emperors and former emperors. I’m having trouble keeping it straight. Just who do you serve, Righteous Drum?”
“As I said, I am of a faction made up of those who wished to restore things to the way they had been before the Orphans were exiled.”
Riprap was quick to pick up on a certain hesitation in Righteous Drum’s tone. “So you’re not really related to our ancestors, are you? This restoring has more to do with restoring what the Thirteen Orphans took with them than with restoring the Cat’s royal line to the Jade Petal Throne.”
Righteous Drum did not bother to pretend he did not know who the Cat was. Once again, Pearl found herself wondering who had been his source for information here in this world, for the Cat was a title exclusive to the ranks of the Thirteen Orphans. This was not the time to ask. Later, though …
Righteous Drum was nodding in reply to Riprap’s question. “Yes. What you say has an element of truth in it. Although much of the military support for the coup came from those who remember the reign of Albert Yu’s ancestors with a nostalgic longing that is perhaps not merited, those who brought their magical gifts into the conflict and in time rose to take the role of the Twelve were all recruited from those who believed that—much as we did not like to face it—something had been lost when the Exiles left, something far more potent than an infant emperor.
“We hoped that when our own emperor was settled on the throne we would be able to research the matter at our leisure, to eventually venture across the divide between the Lands Born from Smoke and Sacrifice into the world of Origin, and once there to retrieve the soul-ch’i that had been taken away. However, if there is any truth in all the universes, it is that coups breed further coups.
“Brenda asked why our Snake and our Tiger are both so young. Simply told, the woman and man who held those titles and were in age closer to being my contemporaries were slain in the coup attempt that followed our rise to power. Their deaths, among many others, kept us in power, but that newly secured power is under siege. I convinced my allies that we could wait no longer to begin our quest for the soul-ch’i. I had hoped they would let me take as much as half of our number with me, but all they would agree to spare were these two half-tried, barely initiated youths.
“Even so, we did well, concentrating first on those we believed would pose either no threat or the greatest threat … .”
Pearl interrupted. “And how did you make these judgments? Shouldn’t we all be perfect strangers to you?”
Righteous Drum looked at her with eyes too wide for perfect innocence. “I told you, the issue of what happened to the soul-ch’i is a matter that has been under study for many, many years. One of those who studied the matter discovered that we are linked, one might say, through our shared affiliations.”
Too facile,
Pearl thought.
By his own admission, Righteous Drum and his allies have been the appointed Twelve for a relatively short time. Still, I shall let it pass, for now. Let us see what else he may reveal.
Pearl thought.
By his own admission, Righteous Drum and his allies have been the appointed Twelve for a relatively short time. Still, I shall let it pass, for now. Let us see what else he may reveal.
Righteous Drum had continued his explanation. “We employed our magics to exploit what you might term the harmonic resonances between you and ourselves, and so learned that not all of those who had inherited the soul-ch’i of one of the Twelve were aware of what this granted them. Even those who were aware were frequently less than well-trained. Then, too, there was the question of geographic proximity. All of these things influenced who we sought first.”
Brenda cut in. “So when you’d finished your collecting I guess you were going to take the harvested memories back to your own land, and tough luck to the people who ended up with permanent amnesia?”
Righteous Drum clearly did not care for her flippancy. “We were very careful only to take what was connected to the soul-ch’i. Yes. In some cases this meant that the person concerned underwent a rather severe personality change, but not a single person was physically harmed.”
Riprap’s lips shaped a thin, rather nasty smile. “We’ve wondered about that, Mr. Righteous Drum, and we figure you didn’t spare us out of any kindness. I think at some point you learned about how our ancestors had fixed things so that what you’re calling the soul-ch’i would pass to an appropriate heir. Tough for you if you killed someone, thinking to swipe the soul-ch’i, only to find it was now wrapped up in someone else who would be difficult to reach—maybe a little baby, or someone living halfway across the country, or even in another part of the world.”
Righteous Drum stiffened. “Think what you will. I continue to assert that the fact that we have not killed—or even seriously harmed—a single person is evidence of our high and noble intent.”
Pearl glanced at the faces of her associates, and did not think that Righteous Drum had convinced any of them.
“So,” she said, setting down her empty teacup, “we have what you have come such a long distance to collect, but as you mentioned, you also hold something we desire.”
“The means to open the crystals and release the soul-ch’i, intact and undamaged,” responded Righteous Drum with too eager haste.
“I still think we could work out how to break the spell in time,” Des interjected. “Especially now that we know more than we did. Especially now that Righteous Drum and his partners are going to have a lot more trouble harassing us, and so we should be far less distracted.”
“Perhaps,” Righteous Drum retorted.
His mouth was opening as if he were about to say something more when his expression went momentarily blank. When it sharpened again, Righteous Drum was focused on something distant. Pearl immediately recognized the reaction as that of a sorcerer who has felt the unexpected tripping of a ward.
Righteous Drum surged to his feet, his hand outthrust, reaching upward into the space in front of him. The empty air had developed a curious solidity, a swimming, swarming texture, as if the air had condensed into a contained sphere of liquid that distorted the light while remaining itself transparent.
Then something brownish appeared within that distorted space, resolving almost as soon as Righteous Drum touched it into a human hand, long-fingered and bony, attached to an arm, equally long and equally skinny.
Righteous Drum gave a sharp tug and a skinny, long-armed, bow-legged Chinese man came sliding through the disturbed air. He emerged as if he were diving into water, but managed to twist in midair so that he landed neatly on his feet. The man’s long hair and beard were both pure white, and his skin had something of the tissue fineness of age. His brown eyes and generous mouth were framed by laugh lines.
But the new arrival was not laughing now. His robes were shredded. The monkeys embroidered on the ivory fabric hung grotesquely dismembered. Blood splattered the fabric and oozed from numerous thin slices wherever the man showed exposed skin. More blood seeped into the fabric of the ruined robes, showing that the heavy robes’ ability to protect their wearer had been far from complete.
The new arrival paid no attention to his surroundings, peculiar as they must have been to him. Nor did he seem to notice anyone but the Dragon.
“Righteous Drum, we have lost …” and then he fainted.
Righteous Drum barely caught him before he hit the ground.
Riprap had moved forward to help. Now, as he took the unconscious man from Righteous Drum and laid him gently on the ground, he sniffed the air.
“Gunpowder?”
“The Chinese invented it,” Des reminded him.
Nissa stopped an impending lecture on the technological sophistication of the ancient Chinese by handing Lani to Des.
“Get her away. Distract her. She shouldn’t see this.” Nissa dropped to her knees and started inspecting the Monkey—for this could only be the Monkey—taking inventory of his numerous wounds. “Brenda, check the picnic hamper. There should be another thermos of hot water. Clean napkins, too.”
Pearl did not intervene, but turned her attention to surveying the surrounding area. So far the Rosicrucians’ protections were holding, but they would have been severely strained by this intrusion. She spoke without stopping her inspection of their surroundings.
“Nissa, can your patient be moved?”
Nissa did not raise her eyes, nor did her hands stop their expert motion as she catalogued wounds, tamping some with the napkins Brenda held out to her, rinsing a few that were encrusted over by something foul-looking with sterile water from the thermos.
“None of the cuts seem to have hit anything vital,” Nissa replied after a moment. “Blood loss probably contributed to his fainting. We can probably shift him on the picnic blanket.”
“Isn’t someone going to notice?” Brenda asked.
“I’ll do what I can about that,” Pearl said.
Maybe the others expected her to work a spell, but instead she pulled out her cell phone. In a moment, she had the front desk in the temple’s museum, and was relayed to a director who didn’t need much explanation. He’d felt the surge that preceded the Monkey’s appearance, and had been heading out to check on the disturbance.
“Don’t bother ruining the picnic blanket,” Pearl said after she had ended her call. “Someone will be out in a moment with a stretcher. Anyone who asks about the commotion will be told an old man fainted.”
“When you lie, always stick close to the truth,” Des said cheerfully from where he was holding Lani up so she could inspect the statue of Isis more closely. “Where are we taking him?”
“My garden,” Pearl said. “I’m still a bit leery about letting these gentlemen into my house, but the area under the ramada should serve for now.”
Righteous Drum had been too distracted by the Monkey’s appearance, but now he turned and gave Pearl a stiff bow.
“I do have a domicile,” he reminded her. “I would not be in your debt.”
“I bet you wouldn’t be,” Pearl replied, knowing her grin was taunting as much as friendly, “but where he goes is the Monkey’s decision, not yours. As he’s in no position to express an opinion, we’re taking him to my house.”
“Because?”
“Because I am in a position to express an opinion. I know the people who are heading here at this very minute with a stretcher, and you are in no position to argue—domicile, debt, or not.”
Righteous Drum still looked undecided, even though Pearl knew that he knew he had no real choice. She softened.
“Look, Righteous Drum. I’m not looking to force you to incur unwelcome debt. There’s a man here bleeding. Didn’t you just tell me we were all sort of related? If so, don’t I owe hospitality to a distant relative?”
Righteous Drum sighed and rested his head in his right hand. He stood there for a long moment, sighed again, and nodded.
“You are right. Choice is just an illusion. Any other decision would be a bad one on my part, born of pride, not a desire to do the best for my old friend.”
The Rosicrucian director arrived carrying a rolled-up stretcher under his arm.
He greeted Pearl with a nod, glanced at the unconscious, bloodied man on the ground, and set down his burden.
“You said you had matters under control so I didn’t bring our resident emergency med people or someone to help carry the stretcher. Do I get to know more about this?”
“Later,” Pearl promised. “Right now, we don’t know much ourselves. The man over there came seeking his friend and almost immediately collapsed. He muttered a few words before he passed out, but nothing that makes much sense.”
That’s technically correct,
Pearl thought. She saw the director glance at the statue of Isis and wondered what the goddess’s representation might be prompted to tell. Well, that couldn’t be helped.
Pearl thought. She saw the director glance at the statue of Isis and wondered what the goddess’s representation might be prompted to tell. Well, that couldn’t be helped.
“You’re taking him to your house?”
“That’s right. We’ll carry him in through the side gate. Someone will bring you back the stretcher.”
The director waved his hand in casual dismissal. “Take your time. Hopefully, no one else will collapse between now and closing.”
“Thanks.”
“And fill me in later. That was an astonishing surge, nearly triggered our defenses and blocked him out entirely. Glad they didn’t go off. It would be a real pain to reset them.”
With another curious—but not in the least rude—glance around the group, the director gave a nod that was almost a bow and departed.
Riprap and Nissa had no problem assembling the stretcher. Then Des and Riprap carefully raised the injured man, and Brenda and Nissa slid the stretcher beneath him. All of this was done with the minimum of words, even from Lani, who clung to Pearl’s leg and watched in rapt fascination.
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