“This one, the most miserable Li Ling, wishes the Son of Heaven to live ten thousand years. This abject one thanks the Son of Heaven for the summons after so long, so very long. ” (The eunuchs gasped with righteous outrage at that too.) “How may this one serve? What may this one speak of?”
Li Ling! Silver Snow had heard of him. Like her father, he was a general and a noble ... or had been. Like her father, he had been unlucky, both in battle and in his choice of allies at court. But, unlike her father, Li Ling was no longer a man. Involvement with losing generals had begun the downfall that an accusation of sorcery had only hastened. And when instruments of alchemy had been discovered in his home, he had been put first to the question, then to the knife that reduced him from general, noble, and lord of a domain, to last of his line and a eunuch of the court like the once-illustrious Ssu-ma Chien, who had been similarly unlucky.
Never mind that! Silver Snow told herself. She concentrated on Li Ling’s words. The disgraced courtier drew himself up, put on wisdom and his former dignity as if they were the finest of robes.
“We are a mighty nation,” said the Son of Heaven. “Why do the Hsiung-nu dare to raid our borders?”
Once again, Li Ling bowed. “May this one recall to the Son of Heaven his feeble words. Ever since the hour of my surrender until now, destitute of all resources, I have sat alone with the bitterness of my grief. All day long, I see none but barbarians around me.”
One of the younger eunuchs giggled, and the disgraced lord halted. The Emperor gestured quickly in aggravation for him to continue. The eunuchs opened their ranks, concealing the young fool who had had so little control as to snicker at the Son of Heaven’s choice of advisor, regardless of his previous status among them.
“Skins and felt protect me from wind and rain. With mutton and whey I satisfy my hunger and slake my thirst. The whole country is still with black ice. I hear naught but the moaning of the bitter autumn blast, beneath which all vegetation has disappeared. Most Illustrious Son of Heaven”—the old eunuch looked up earnestly—“the Hsiung-nu are poor in all but valor. They hold it a virtue to wrest what they will from those whom they consider weak.”
“And yet this Khujanga promises us that, should we grant him our support, he will cease to raid. Will he keep his word?” The eunuch-lord appeared to consider. “May this one most humbly inquire what his words were?”
The Emperor flicked his fingers, and a minister passed Li Ling a bundle of wood strips. He bent, shook his head over the awkwardness of the writing, and read, ‘“I propose to have a frontier trade with Ch’in on a large scale, to marry a Ch’in princess, to receive annually ten thousand firkins of spirits, ten thousand pieces of assorted silk, besides all the rest as provided by previous treaties; if this is done, we will not raid the frontier.’”
Li Ling paused momentarily as a brief eddy in the group of ladies rose and died at the mention of a Ch’in princess as the bride of the Hsiung-nu ruler. “Having naught else now to stake, this most miserable and unworthy one would stake his life that the shan-yu will keep to such an agreement.”
Silver Snow could hear angry mutterings about tribute, about barbarians, and about the Emperor’s greatness of heart in hearing out an ill-fortuned dotard.
From the side of the Hall of Brilliance, someone gestured, and the Son of Heaven sighed, as if recalling himself to matters less interesting, if more pressing.
“We shall think on this and give the shan-yu our answer should he become the shan-yu in truth as he is in boast. You shall continue to advise us. Nay, you are too old for those skull-thumpings on the floor, man! But now ... let our Administrator of the Inner Courts, Mao Yen-shou, come forward.”
With a flourish of his embroidered robes, Mao Yen-shou prostrated himself before the Dragon Throne.
“Let his robes split!” whispered Willow, and Silver Snow glared her maid into silence.
So hard did her heart beat that she could not hear his words of greeting and of praise. But she saw, clearly enough, when the portraits of the ladies were unveiled. Aye, there was Precious Pearl, as lovely as her name and nature. The Son of Heaven deigned to nod. He smiled at the portrait of Cassia, shrugged at a number of others.
“You are but one of five hundred,” Willow whispered. “Perhaps he will not even present your likeness at all.”
Silver Snow shook her head. The Master of the Inner Courts would most certainly not ignore her, lest someone ask why but four hundred and ninety-nine ladies had been depicted. Peony Bud, Jade, Apricot—he must be showing the least attractive girls in a group. Silver Snow braced herself.
At first, she did not recognize her own portrait. Then her hand jerked as if in instinct to cover her mouth, and she bit down to keep from crying out in anger. She had thought that she had very little vanity; that she knew that she was the equal of only a very few of the ladies who now pretended to gasp in shock at her picture. But that . . . that girl on the silk screen! Oh, it was she, all right: the darkness of the hair, the decisiveness of the tiny pursed mouth, the flash of the almond-shaped eyes. Those were all hers. No one could say that the painter had lied.
But Mao Yen-shou had painted her with her lips parted to reveal gapping teeth just the slightest bit yellowed. He had lowered her forehead, making her appear to seem stubborn, had mixed yellow with his skin tones until she looked unhealthy, and, worst of all, had painted an ugly black mole below her right eye, the unluckiest of all places for a maid to have such a blemish.
Yuan Ti shook his head in amazement.
“How was such a one ever selected for our Inner Courts?” he asked the self-assured eunuch. “Let a woman have a mole beneath her right eye, and she brings misfortune to all whom she sees.”
As if sensing his master’s irritation, the mynah on the elaborately wrought perch at his side fluffed out its crest and shrieked. The Emperor caressed it with a careful finger.
Mao Yen-shou flung himself spectacularly to the floor, wailing as if at his father’s funeral. The maid, he said, was as crafty as she was ill-favored; she had concealed her blemish. “Let this vile one’s head serve as recompense for the error!” he lamented. “The girl is as inauspicious as all her family, but I did not know that she was so homely!”
Had it not been she, Silver Snow wondered if she would not have laughed. She noted that alone of the courtiers and ladies, the elder eunuch Li Ling had not joined in condemning her portrait. He chewed upon his beardless lip, and seemed to want to turn away.
“Ill-favored and ill-fortuned,” mused the Emperor. “Was her father not a traitor?”
“Let this one send the maid away!” begged Mao Yen-shou.
Li Ling flung himself down too. “This one begs the Most August! Homely the maid may be, but she is blameless and should not have such a shame put upon her. Her father has already been punished twice. This one submits most humbly that he should not receive another punishment without having deserved it.”
Silver Snow stifled a sob. Father ; if only I could tell you how your old friend defends your honor and your most miserable child’s! But she knew that this scene was one that she would never describe in a letter; it was too humiliating.
Mao Yen-shou glared at the older eunuch, and looked as if he wished to do worse when the Emperor held up a hand.
“Li Ling has a point, Administrator. We cannot visit Chao Kuang with an undeserved punishment, not when he has already been cursed with ...” He shut his eyes. “Take that picture from our sight.”