Forgive me, Fan Ming-yu, but I had to do this. For my master. The man had begun to babble, to refute all he had been saying only a moment before, but the torturer's movements seemed inexorable. The coal came down, slowly, ever so slowly it seemed, and the man's words melted into shrieks of fearful protest. His body lifted, squirming, desperate, but all of its attempts to escape only brought it closer to the implement of its suffering.
The torturer held back a moment. One leather-gloved hand pushed the man's hip down, gently, almost tenderly, it seemed. Then, with the kind of care one might see from a craftsman tracing fine patterns onto silver, he brought the coal down delicately, pressing it tightly against the man's left testicle.
Nan Ho had shuddered and stepped back, swallowing bile. He had glanced, horrified, at Tolonen, seeing how the old man looked on impassively, then had looked back at the man, unable to believe what he had seen, appalled and yet fascinated by the damage the coal had done. Then, turning away, he had staggered out, his legs almost giving out under him, the screams of the man filling his head, the smell of charred flesh making him want to retch.
He stood there a moment longer, calming himself, trying to fit what he had just seen into the tightly ordered pattern of the world he knew, then shook his head. It was not his fault. He had had no choice in the matter. If his master had been any other man, or if the Lady Fei had chosen any other man but Tsu Ma to be her lover, but . . . well, as it was, this had to be. To let the truth be known, that was unthinkable.
Tolonen came outside. He stood there, staring at Nan Ho, then reached out and held his shoulder. "I am sorry, Master Nan. I didn't mean it to upset you. It's just that I felt you ought to be there, to hear the man's confession for yourself." He let his hand fall, then shrugged. "There are more efficient ways of inflicting pain, of course, but none as effective in loosening a tongue. The more barbaric the means of torture, we find, the quicker the man will talk."
Nan Ho swallowed, then found his voice again. "And what did you discover?"
"I have a list of all those he spoke to. Few, fortunately. And his source."
"His source?"
"It seems you acted not a moment too soon, Master Nan. Fan Ming-yu had just come from his lover. A young man named Yen Shih-fa."
Nan Ho's eyes widened. "I know the man. He is a groom at the stables."
"Yes." Tolonen smiled grimly. "I have contacted Tongjiang already and had the man arrested. With the very minimum of fuss, you understand. They are bringing him here even now."
Nan Ho nodded abstractedly. "And what will you do?"
The Marshal swallowed, a momentary bitterness clouding his features. "What can I do? It is as you said, Master Nan. This rumor cannot be allowed to spread. But how prevent that? Normally I would trust to the word of such ch'un tzu, but in a matter of this seriousness it would not be enough to trust to their silence. A man's word is one thing, but the security of the State is another. No; nor would it serve to demote them below the Net. These four are men of influence. Small influence, admittedly, but their absence would be noticed and commented upon. No, in the circumstances we must act boldly, I'm afraid."
Nan Ho shuddered. "You mean they must die."
Tolonen smiled. "Nothing quite so drastic, Master Nan. It is a matter of a small operation." He traced a tiny line across the side of his skull. "An incision here, another there ..."
"And their families?"
"Their families will be told that they took an overdose of something. Pei Ro-hen's surgeons had to operate to save them, but unfortunately there was damage— serious damage—to those parts of the brain that control speech and memory. Most unfortunate, neh? But the T'ang, in his generosity, will offer compensation."
Nan Ho stared at the Marshal, surprised. "You know this?"
"I have already written the memorandum. It will be on Li Shai Tung's desk this evening."
"Ah, then the matter is concluded?"
"Yes. I think we can safely say that."
"And the groom? Yen Shih-fa?"
Tolonen looked down, clearly angry. "Yen Shih-fa will die. After we have made sure he has done no further mischief."
Nan Ho bowed his head. "I understand . . ." Yet he felt no satisfaction, only a sense of dread necessity; that and a slowly mounting anger at his young master's wife. This was her fault, the worthless bitch. This was the price of her selfishness, her wantonness.
Tolonen was watching him sympathetically. "You have served your master well, Nan Ho. You were right. If this rumor had taken root. . ."
Nan Ho gave the slightest nod. He had hoped to keep the details from Tolonen, but it had not proved possible. Even so, no harm had been done. Fan Ming-yu's insistence on the truth of what he had said—that Tsu Ma had slept with the Lady Fei—had shocked and outraged the old man. Nan Ho had seen for himself the fury in Tolonen's face as he leaned over the man, spittle flecking his lips as he called him a liar and a filthy scandal monger. And thank the gods for that. No. Not for one moment had the Marshal believed it could be true. Tsu Ma and the Lady Fei. No. It was unthinkable!
And so it must remain. For a lifetime, if necessary. But how long would it be before another whispered the secret to one they trusted? How long before the rumor trickled out again, flowing from ear to ear like the tributaries of a great river? And then?
"I am pleased that it has all worked out so well, Marshal," he said, meeting the old man's eyes briefly. "But now, if you need me no longer, I must see Pei Ro-hen. I have yet to complete the business I came here to transact."
"Of course," Tolonen said, smiling now. "You have done all that needs to be done here, Master Nan. I can deal with the rest." "Good. Then you'll excuse me."
He bowed and was beginning to turn away when Tolonen called him back. "Forgive me, Master Nan, but one small thing. This morning, as I understand it, was the first time Tsu Ma had visited Tongjiang for three, almost four months. Now, without saying for a moment that I believe it to be true, such rumors have no credibility—even among such carrion as these—unless there are some few small circumstances to back them up. What crossed my mind, therefore, was that this was possibly some old tale, renewed, perhaps, by Tsu Ma's visit this morning? I wondered . . ." He hesitated, clearly embarrassed by what he was about to say. "Well, to be frank, I wondered if you had heard any whisper of this rumor before today, Master Nan. Whether . . ."
But Nan Ho was shaking his head. "Maybe you're right, Marshal Tolonen, but personally I think it more likely that the T'ang's visit put the idea into the young groom's head, neh? Dig a little and I'm sure you'll find a reason for his malice. It would not be the first time that such mischief has come from personal disappointment."
Tolonen considered that a moment, then nodded, satisfied. "Well, it was just a passing thought. Go now, Master Nan. And may the gods reward you for what you have done here today."
IT HAD TAKEN the best part of six hours to work their way down through the deck, but now they had only this last box to deal with and they were done. Both men had been quiet for some time, as if the stream of talk between them had dried up, but now Mach looked across at his pale companion and laughed.
"What is it?" Lehmann asked tonelessly, concentrating on unscrewing the last of the restraining bolts.
"I was just thinking—"
Again he laughed. This time Lehmann raised his eyes, searching his face. "Thinking what?"