Iron Empress: A Novel of Murder and Madness in T'ang China (Court of the Lion) by Cooney Eleanor & Altieri Daniel

Author:Cooney, Eleanor & Altieri, Daniel [Cooney, Eleanor]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Buchanan and Li Literary Associates
Published: 2011-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

a.d. 669, February

Loyang

It could only have been the news of the severity of Kaotsung's latest sickness that had caused the bad dreams. Dee had felt his own internal sense of unease growing over the last several days, ever since the arrival of Hsueh Huai-i's letter. And why? What difference to the state, at this point, whether the Emperor was alive or dead? he asked himself. But he knew the answer. Ineffective and debilitated though he was, Kaotsung was a last vestige—a symbol, however ceremonial—of official Confucian constraint.

This time, Kaotsung had suffered a severe relapse, and yesterday Hsueh had written that the Emperor might not recover. Though Hsueh found the Empress's presence odious and always withdrew when she paid a visit to her mother, he said, he could not help but overhear her wailing, ranting, and complaining.

Dee thought that surely Ho-lan's death had proved too much for the Emperor. Whatever resiliency remained in Kaotsung's body must have collapsed with his will and his spirit. It was a wonder, the old Councillor Wu-chi had once remarked to Dee, that the Emperor had survived so long. A miracle, in fact, Dee added with his new firsthand knowledge.

Dee worried about Hsueh's safety, fretting over whether it had been altogether wise to allow him to undertake his covert mission. Two weeks ago, the monk had entered Madame Yang's household and was living under her roof, as many "holy men," scholars, and pilgrims often did. He was a guest of honor, the great "Lama" Hsueh, there to act as spiritual adviser to the Empress's mother, to instruct her kitchen staff, to help her with her plans for the construction of gardens and temples.

He had not laid eyes on the magician since he had gone in, but the clever monk had kept Dee well informed. Letters arrived almost daily, full of fascinating detail and information about life at the home of the Empress's mother. And what did they expect to do with any evidence they were likely to uncover? He had no answer to that question, either. But he was incapable, he knew, of turning his back now. He had no choice. He simply had to know.

Last night Dee had managed to fall asleep, but it was an unpleasant and fitful sleep, wracked with dreams of fires. At one point he was in the palace, talking to the Emperor while a fire sputtered and crackled across the polished floors. Then it leaped onto the tall bed so the corners of the bedclothes glowed. Dee had pulled anxiously at the paralyzed monarch's arms, but he could not get the poor man to move.

That was when Dee woke up. His feet touched the cold floor, and he ordered hot tea from the guesthouse steward.

With the tea came a new letter from Hsueh. Impatiently, he slit the seal and read. This latest news was interesting indeed.

Now far too weak to offer any resistance to his wife, Kaotsung had actually tried to abdicate—but she had not allowed him.

Not allowed him? An Emperor not allowed by his wife to abdicate? It was extraordinary.

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