Ice and Fire by David Wingrove Page B

fault. Captain Rosten was acting on my direct orders. However, had I known Ben and Meg would be there…’ He shuddered, then turned back to the boy. ‘Ben, please forgive me. And ask Meg to forgive me, too. Would that I could undo what has been done.’
    For a moment Ben seemed about to say something, then he dropped his eyes and made a small movement of his head. A negation. But what it signified neither man knew.
    There was another knock on the door; a signal that the T’ang acknowledged with a few words of Mandarin. Then the two men stood, facing each other, smiling, for a brief moment in perfect accord.
    ‘It has been an honour to have you here, Li Shai Tung. An honour and a pleasure.’
    The T’ang’s smile broadened. ‘The pleasure has been mine, Hal. It is not often I can be myself
    ‘Then come again. Whenever you need to be yourself
    Li Shai Tung let his left hand rest on Shepherd’s upper arm a moment, then nodded. ‘I shall. I promise you. But come, Hal, I’ve a gift for you.’
    The door opened and two of the T’ang’s personal servants came in, carrying the gift. They set it down on the floor in the middle of the room, as the T’ang had instructed them earlier, then backed away, heads lowered. It was a tree. A tiny, miniature apple tree.
    Shepherd went across and knelt beside it, then turned and looked back at Li Shai Tung, clearly moved by the T’ang’s gesture.
    ‘It’s beautiful. It really is, Shai Tung. How did you know I wanted one?’
    The T’ang laughed softly. ‘I cheated, Hal. I asked Beth. But the gift is for you both. Look carefully. The tree is a twin. It has two intertwined trunks.’
    Shepherd looked. ‘Ah, yes.’ He laughed, aware of the significance. Joined trees were objects of good omen; symbols of conjugal happiness and marital fidelity. More than that, an apple – p’ing, in Mandarin – was a symbol of peace. ‘It’s perfect, Li Shai Tung. It really is.’ He shook his head, overwhelmed, tears forming in his eyes. ‘We shall treasure it.’
    And I this.’ Li Shai Tung held up Shepherd’s file. He smiled, then turned to the boy. ‘It was good to talk with you, Ben. I hope we might talk again some time.’
    Ben stood and, unexpectedly, gave a small bow to the T’ang.
    ‘My father’s right, of course. You should destroy them. Now, while you still can.’
    Ah…’ Li Shai Tung hesitated, then nodded. Maybe so , he thought, surprised yet again by the child’s unpredictability. But he said nothing. Time alone would prove them right or wrong.
    He looked back at Shepherd who was standing now. ‘I must go, Hal. It would not do to keep Minister Chao waiting.’ He laughed. ‘You know, Chao has been in my service longer than anyone butTolonen.’
    It was said before he realized it.
    ‘I forget…’ he said, with a small, sad laugh.
    Shepherd, watching him, shook his head. ‘Bring him back, Shai Tung,’ he said softly. ‘This once, do as your heart bids you.’
    The T’ang smiled tightly and held the file more firmly. ‘Maybe,’ he said. But he knew he would not. It was as he had said. He was T’ang, yes, but he was also Seven.
    When the T’ang had gone they stood at the river’s edge. The moon was high overhead – a bright, full moon that seemed to float in the dark mirror of the water. The night was warm and still, its silence broken only by the sound – a distant, almost disembodied sound – of the soldiers working on the cottage.
    Shepherd squatted down, looking out across the water into the darkness on the other side.
    ‘What did you mean, Ben, earlier? All that business about dissolving walls and making it real. Was that just talk or did you have something real in mind?’
    Ben was standing several paces from his father, looking back up the grassy slope to where they had set up arc lamps all around the cottage. The dark figures of the suited men seemed to flit through the glare like objects seen peripherally, in a dream.
    ‘It’s an idea I have.