"I am saying nothing" Ju-Hai answered. He stared at her with cold, dispassionate eyes. Suddenly, he bowed. "I only called to relay the news of your father. If you'll excuse me, it's late and I should be going."
The minister turned and showed himself out of the main hall, leaving Wu alone to puzzle over his words.
When Ju-Hai stepped out of the Batu compound, two different sets of guards snapped to attention. One set was his personal bodyguard of six men, which he had left outside Wu's home. The other set belonged to Ting. Until tonight, he had assumed that they were protecting the Batu family from Kwan's assassins. Now, he wondered if they were more dangerous than the servants of the Minister of War.
He paused in the gate and looked down the street. The night was close, and the air felt heavy with moisture. Overhead, the sky was moonless and black. Beneath the walls of the Batu compound, the darkness was as absolute. The minister could not see even the silhouettes of the guards that he knew would be standing there. It seemed a fitting night for accusations of treachery and betrayal.
Ju-Hai was not anxious to believe Wu, and he could find plenty of reason to doubt her suspicions. Certainly, it was not unusual to smell jasmine in the Virtuous Consort's garden. Though he had never been inside, he did not doubt that the small park contained at least a few of the climbing shrubs. Even if that was not the case, Ting was far from alone in using jasmine blossoms as perfume.
As for asking about Batu's plan, the female mandarin could hardly be blamed for her inquisitiveness. For nearly two months now, the general's disappearance had been the primary source of court gossip. Even the emperor had occasionally voiced his curiosity about what had happened to the General of the Northern Marches and his hundred thousand pengs.
Still, Ju-Hai could not dismiss Wu's accusation out-of-hand. For several months now, Ting had seemed more independent and power-hungry than usual. He had taken this as a sign that she was growing more secure in her position as a mandarin. He also saw that it could be a result of a secret allegiance to a new master.
Ju-Hai was deeply fond of Ting. In a world of double deceits and elaborate subterfuges, her undisguised mercenary streak seemed almost honest. Though he had never trusted her completely, Ju-Hai had always felt that if he knew what she wanted, he could work with her to achieve what he desired.
It had never occurred to the Minister of State that his protege might want something badly enough to betray Shou Lung. Even by the most ruthless standards of court conduct, such behavior was unthinkable. He could not believe that Ting would resort to such treachery.
Ju-Hai was far from confident in his opinion, however, and knew that he could not expect to discover the truth through direct questioning. Opening an official inquiry was also out of the question. If it proved nothing, it would needlessly damage Ting's reputation, making the Tigress an enemy for life.
Wu was the only tool Ju-Hai had available to discover the truth. He did not doubt that Hsuang's daughter would do as he wanted, for he had carefully guided the conversation to make her feel that she had no choice except to expose the spy herself. Ju-Hai did not enjoy such callous manipulation, but he was willing to do it for the good of the emperor.
At the same time, the minister also felt obliged to provide what assistance he could. His agents had been quite impressed with Wu's kung fu, and Ju-Hai knew the general's wife would have no trouble getting into Ting's house. However, leaving her own home, which was tightly ringed with guards, might prove more difficult.
Ju-Hai started away from the compound, surrounded by his bodyguard. Fifty yards later, he looked down an alley and, feigning surprise, asked his guards, "What's happening there?"
His bodyguard peered into the alley. "Where, Minister?" asked one.
"There—a figure. Don't you see it?" Ju-Hai pointed at the right side of the darkened lane. "Stop in the name of the emperor!" he yelled.
No one answered, but he had not expected a response. As far as he knew, the alley was empty. He was simply trying to lure the guards away from Wu's house.
When he looked back toward the Batu compound, he was pleased to note that his plan was working. In the light of gate lamps, he saw Ting's guards looking in his direction.
"Guards!" he called. "Come quickly—it's a spy!"
As he had hoped, the mere mention of a spy was enough to lure the guards away from their posts. The tramp of heavy boots echoed down the street, and a moment later twelve sentries rushed into view. Ju-Hai's own bodyguard closed ranks around him. If there was danger nearby, the last thing they would do was leave their master alone.
Ju-Hai pointed down the alley. "There!" he said, speaking to Ting's guards. "Quickly!"
The soldiers brushed past the minister with barely a second glance, calling orders and commands to each other. Ju-Hai looked back toward the Batu household, hoping to catch a glimpse of Wu taking advantage of his ruse. Not even the hint of a shadow slipped out of the gate.
Returning his attention to the alley, Ju-Hai patiently waited while the guards rushed about, banging gates and searching doorways. Though he wanted to leave, Ju-Hai knew that his sudden departure would make the guards suspicious.
Ten minutes later, a drizzle began to fall. The rain was warm, almost hot, and did nothing to relieve the stickiness of the night. Ju-Hai did not care. It provided him with an excuse to leave the search.
"I have no desire to stand in the rain while you let the spy escape," he said to the sergeant. "If you are lucky enough to find the infiltrator, take him to Minister Ting. Ask her to notify me at once."
The sergeant bowed. "Of course, Minister."
Ju-Hai returned the bow with a cursory nod, then started down the street with his own bodyguard in tow. Instead of going home, however, he turned toward Ting's. His unexpected arrival at her house would provide another distraction for Wu. He might even learn something himself.
As he and his guards drifted through the dark streets, Ju-Hai occasionally stopped to listen for Wu. He did not see even the faintest suggestion of a trailing silhouette, and the only sound he heard was the squeak of his own guards' wet armor. The only hint of Wu's presence was a feeling of disquiet that raised the hair on the back of the minister's neck.
When he approached Ting's house, Ju-Hai stationed his bodyguard at the entrance of the alley that ran along the back wall of her compound, then went down the dark lane alone. If he were to use the front gate, by tomorrow morning, the summer palace would be filled with gossip of their "liaison." As he had no desire to make himself the subject of such gossip, he intended to use the back entrance.
Just before Ju-Hai reached Ting's back gate, the wooden doors opened. A figure dressed in a dark samfu slipped out of the archway and paused in the light of the single gate lamp. It was Ting Mei Wan, Minister of State Security. She carried a dark scarf and a polished ebony tube, such as one might use to store a paper scroll. The scabbard of a twelve-inch dagger hung from her belt.
She paused a moment to tie the scarf around her face. In that instant, Ju-Hai knew that Wu was right. Ting, the very person charged with ensuring the empire's security, was preparing to meet the enemy's courier even now. There could be no other reason for her nefarious dress. The ebony tube, the minister guessed, contained evidence of her betrayal, probably a report of how the emperor had taken the nobles' defeat.
Stomach knotted with sorrow and his heart pounding with rage, Ju-Hai decided he would not allow the traitor to deliver her message. He considered calling his bodyguard, then realized that so near Ting's house, they were sure to be outnumbered by the traitor's men. The Minister of State could not take the tube by force.
Still unaware of Ju-Hai's presence, Ting glanced up at the drizzle, then slipped the ebony tube inside her samfu. She turned away and started down the alley.
"Did someone tell you I was coming?" Ju-Hai called, his tone forcibly jocular.
Ting spun around, squinting into the darkness. "Who's there?" Her face was pale with shock.
Ju-Hai did not respond. Instead, he simply took another echoing step forward.
"Answer!" Ting commanded, drawing her dagger.
"It's just an old friend," Ju-Hai responded, stepping into the light of her gate lamp. "Why so frightened?"
"Minister!" Ting sighed, pulling the scarf off her face. "What are you doing here on a night like this?"
"Coming to see you. Where are you going on a night like this, dressed like that?" he asked, pointing at her samfu.
Ting glanced at her dark clothing, then frowned at Ju-Hai. She seemed at a loss for words and clenched her dagger hilt so tightly that her knuckles went white. For a moment, Ju-Hai feared she would attack him. Finally, she sheathed her weapon. "To a rendezvous," she said. "With whom is none of your business."
Ju-Hai tapped the tube beneath her shirt. "I'd give a thousand silver coins to know what present you're taking him."
Ting shifted the tube out of his reach. "Is there something you want?"
"Yes," Ju-Hai said. He did not elaborate, for he had intended to call on Ting under the pretext of a social visit. Having caught her as she was leaving, he needed a better excuse to detain her. He had not yet thought of one.
"What is it? I'm late as it is."
Ju-Hai glanced down the alley, hoping that Wu was somewhere in the dark watching the exchange. "Unless your rendezvous is with the emperor, this is more important. We'd better go inside."
Ting's irritation disappeared instantly. "Of course, if it's as serious as you say," she said, opening the gate.
"It is, I assure you." Ju-Hai stepped through the entrance into a small kiosk. To the Minister of State's surprise, it was empty. "No guard?" he asked.
"I had him sent away for a few minutes," Ting responded.
"Discretion begins at home."