Grand Vendetta: Chapter Two
II: The Plan Is Hatched
She did scream – a long wail that froze courtiers and servants passing in the hallway outside her boudoir. Moments later, it was said, Sun Quan erupted into the hallway, hands covering his face, hurtling as fast as possible toward the sanctuary of his own quarters. The scream and the Prince's flight caused quite a stir amongst those who had witnessed it, but everyone knew better than to discuss it after the shock had worn off: to be caught gossiping about members of the Sun family entailed strict punishment.
Ten minutes after that disturbance, the trumpets in the Long Gallery proclaimed dinnertime, and there was a general movement of people toward the back regions of the Palace, where the communal dining areas were situated. The Court of Sun Jian was famous for its organization and the orderliness of its business, and dining was no exception: all the servants ate in one communal area, the Palace guards in an adjoining chamber; officials and their staff took their meals one level up in the main Banquet Hall. Wu's Privy Cabinet, however – administrators of the First Class and generals with three or more stars – ate in the magnificent private dining quarters of the Sun family. Since it was a warm summer evening, dinner was moved to the Belvedere immediately outside, overlooking the River.
Sun Jian, contrary to royal practice, came to meals early; his tablemates accordingly arrived early as well out of respect. Today, however, his most exalted – and most punctual – guests were late; by the time all were assembled, the second course would already have been underway. His children were the last of all to arrive, and when they did there was a general hush: the damp flush on Shang Xiang's face, and the pallor of her brothers' countenances, all insinuated a violent, and recent, domestic spat.
"Please be seated," said Sun Jian to the assembly, and the rustle of silk on fur mats followed as everyone sank to the floor.
The meal commenced in eerie quietness. Usually dinner was a boisterous, animated affair, but Shang Xiang, the most loquacious of them all, glared at her plate in silence. The Qiao sisters refused to converse, out of respect for her misery; the strategists could not think of anything topic of conversation that would not remind them either of the Jing fiasco or of the engagement. Any attempt at levity was quashed by the sight of the princess's raw face. Thus dinner continued, the clink of utensils against the expansive sigh of the river, nervousness and malaise mounting until the casual appearance of Zhang Zhao, Wu's ambassador general, froze all movement.
"Ah…ahem," coughed Zhang Zhao. "Forgive me if I've startled you all - it seems oddly quiet today here."
He stared at the assembly. Fifteen glazed pairs of eyes stared back at him.
"Which is why I am about to thank you for breaking the silence," said Sun Jian amicably. "What can I do for you?"
"The members of my staff are all abuzz – is it true the Princess has been engaged to the ruler of Shu?"
All heads turned in one swift ripple toward Sun Shang Xiang. She remained perfectly still.
"I congratulate you," said Sun Jian lightly, "for having staffers so…talented at collecting rumors. Politics can wait for another time, but we are pleased to have your company. Will you join us?"
A valet instantly appeared with an extra chair and table and disappeared just as quickly.
"You are very kind, sire," said Zhang Zhao, "but you must forgive me for my impertinence. I hear that negotiations are to begin tomorrow for this…alliance…and I wish to offer you my earnest counsel on this matter before then."
Sun Jian raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Three tables down, Lu Xun put his utensils down, his appetite suddenly gone.
Taking Sun Jian's silence as an invitation to continue, Zhang Zhao asked:
"If I may be so bold, my lord, is it necessary to strengthen our alliance with Liu Bei through marriage?"
If before everyone was determined to pretend not to hear Zhang Zhao, they no longer were: eating ceased completely as everyone stared unabashedly at him.
"Why do you ask?" said Sun Jian, an edge beginning to develop in his calm voice.
"I do not foresee Liu Bei remaining perpetually friendly with us. Marrying the Princess off to him will only extend the alliance somewhat - it will not make it permanent."
"I propose marriage just so that I can ensure its permanence!"
"Indeed, my lord, but history teaches us otherwise about the success of marriage-based alliances. Begging your pardon…"
He trailed off, not knowing whether to go on or not.
"Yes?" growled Sun Jian.
Zhang Zhao's trained voice remained as steady as ever, but his hands began to shake slightly.
"Women, begging your pardon sire, are but tokens. They are powerless to stop conflicts between their husbands and their families. I do not think, sire, that you would want for your daughter to have to choose between her family and her husband – "
"How dare you!" roared Sun Jian.
"She is your only daughter!" cried Zhang Zhao. "I beg you to reconsider – "
A resounding crash cut him short. Sun Shang Xiang had leapt to her feet, her table overturned and dinner shattered on the floor.
"Shang Xiang!" cried Sun Jian.
The princess faced him defiantly, about to explode with fury.
"It's insulting enough that you have to talk about me as if I were some parcel to give away. But if you want to discuss me, or whom I'm to marry and why, do so out of my presence!"
Before Sun Jian could say another word, she had stormed back indoors. The shocked silence that followed was painful.
"I think," muttered Sun Ce, turning to his ashen brother, "that fighting Cao Cao on our own would be easier."
OoOoOoOoOo
It was midnight, and still Lu Xun could not bring himself to sleep. After Zhang Zhao's spectacular – albeit well-intentioned – faux pas at dinner, no one had found it possible to eat anymore, let alone talk, and the meal had terminated after half an hour, something unheard of when Sun Jian thought it the most important event of the day. Neither did anyone stay together to make small talk or plans for tomorrow. Sun Shang Xiang confined herself to her room and did not open her door even to admit a pair of pleading brothers; the generals had all mysteriously separated, unwilling to converse with each other; and Sun Jian, the poor father, had retired to his quarters, probably to brood over the unhappy state of his daughter. Zhou Yu was nowhere to be found. Lu Xun himself headed back to Zhou Yu's office and buried himself in paperwork – scrawling more notes on Wu's current political situation, reviewing the latest personnel and supply reports, and reading the latest dispatches from the front lines against Wei. When he thought he could no longer take the sight of battle diagrams, he withdrew to his suite to read. Instead of calming him down, however, the reading irritated him. He then tried to sleep, but the specters of the day's events and the humidity of the summer night continued to torture him until he sat up on his bed, painfully awake, sweating in his thin silk robe and craving madly for a fan.
There was no fan to be found within sight. Without even throwing on a thicker robe, he leapt off his bed and left his quarters, hoping it would be cooler in the larger and loftier main Palace.
The halls were dark and empty. Torches here and there cast flickering shadows on the vast walls. Their hazy, orange glow seemed only to give the impression of more heat, if possible: so Lu Xun decided, after some restless pacing, to head for the gardens. To hell with the curfew: he was in high enough favor with the Sun Family to not care about being charged with a little misdemeanor.
The garden was dim but magnificent in the moonless dark, and the cool air was pleasant shock to Lu Xun. Eagerly he sought the nearest pavilion, thinking the garden empty; but to his great surprise, he found the first one in his path occupied by the Qiao sisters and a coterie of ladies-in-waiting, strumming zithers and singing boisterously. Lu Xun smiled at the sight but skirted them as surreptitiously as possible: the last time he'd happened on one of the Qiaos' musical contests, he had been made to stay until he'd sung Ode to a Peony – an experience made even more mortifying by his utter tone-deafness.
More company awaited him down the path – Gan Ning and Ling Tong, idly playing cards by a fountain, and past the zig-zag colonnade, Sun Jian himself, sprawled on a wicker cabana, one hand armed with a palmetto fan and the other holding a scroll. The book was apparently very interesting, and Lu Xun passed close enough to the ruler to make out its title – Sun Tzu's Art of War – before retreating and disappearing behind the nearest row of hedges. So the gardens were far from empty. Not to worry: Lu Xun knew that the palace grounds were big enough for everybody, and there was sure to be some quiet corner into which he could retreat.
Twenty minutes later, after much twisting and turning on meandering paths, Lu Xun was absolutely certain he had tread into uninhabited territory. The trees had grown tall enough here to bend over and tent the walks, masking and trapping the meager starlight in its thick brambles; and beyond he could barely make out, in the gloom, a smooth expanse and the jagged silhouettes around it – a lake and its bordering pagodas. It seemed dark and private enough here for Lu Xun's taste, and pleasantly colder and quieter than the rest of the grounds, none of the bubbling of streams or crashing of waterfalls that serenaded the gardens closest to the palace. The dark ridges of a staircase loomed before him at the end of the path; carefully, minding his flimsy slippers, he ascended until his feet hit a wooden deck. Inconveniently for him, though, it was pitch black here, and the railing had disappeared as soon as the stairs ended. Stretching his arms before him like a blind man, Lu Xun advanced inch by inch, groping about for the seat of a bench or a pillar -
"Care to join us, Boyan?"
Lu Xun yelped loudly, and in the same instant his foot met solid resistance, sending him head over heels onto something warm and soft. His landing mat yelped and shifted, triggering a rush of blood to his cheeks.
"Afraid of the dark, Boyan?" lilted a third voice. "Then I'll oblige you. I have a matchbox."
A single flame hissed to life, casting an uncertain glow on the faces of Zhou Yu, Sun Quan and Sun Ce. A table before them bore a tea service and platters of pastries and fruit. Lu Xun twisted around and saw that the thing he had tripped over was Zhou Yu's long legs, which were outstretched. Mercifully he had missed the desserts, but as he stood up he realized, mortified, that the warm, soft thing he had fallen spread-eagled into was Sun Quan's lap.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, slightly peeved by the way the three were reveling in his red face.
"We were about to ask you," said Sun Quan, his eyes as keen as gems.
"Have a seat," said Zhou Yu, gesturing at the empty chair next to him.
"And don't stand there staring like a fool," snapped Sun Ce. "My match is running out."
Lu Xun sank into the chair, and Ce tossed the match onto the deck and stamped it out. A small, dark trail of smoke floated up and dissipated in eerie silence.
"Why…are you out here?" Xun asked, after an uncomfortable moment. He received no reply. "Am I interrupting something?"
Sun Quan, Sun Ce, and Zhou Yu looked at each other.
"Yes – " said Sun Quan
"No – " said Zhou Yu, in the same breath.
"Not really," said Sun Ce. "We were just chatting before you came. Three friends catching up."
"On the far side of the grounds?" muttered Lu Xun, raising an eyebrow.
The other three exchanged another look: Lu Xun was of course too sharp to believe such an excuse.
"How's the situation at He Fei?" said Zhou Yu, before Lu Xun could ask any more questions.
"Still in the balance – for the moment. Only two reports have come in this entire evening, but things probably won't change drastically before morning. Looks like Wei hasn't really put its back into the fight yet."
Zhou Yu grunted wordlessly.
"And are you out here escaping work?" lilted Ce.
Lu Xun flushed. "N-no! I was doing paperwork until midnight; I just came here for a breath of –"
Ce's loud laugh cut him short.
"Re-lax; I was just busting your chops. We all know how much of a workaholic you are. Gonjin here, though," he nudged Zhou Yu, "wishes he could escape his work so easily."
Though he could see nothing except a few dark silhouettes, Lu Xun could feel Zhou Yu shoot an ugly look at Ce. It took him rather longer to realize what Ce was alluding to: Jing province and Shang Xiang's engagement.
Not again, he thought, exasperated; he was sick of the subject.
"Look, there's no use worrying about it now. Until I've seen Liu Bei, we can't do anything about the matter."
"Which is what I've been trying to tell Gonjin all evening," said Ce. With that he clapped a hand on Zhou Yu's shoulder and shook him gently. "Just chill. You'll take a few years off your life by fretting like this. Me, I'm sick of politics too. Let's talk about other things! And look at all this food - Lu Xun, help yourself to a cake; you haven't touched a single thing on this table yet and my pig of a brother has already enjoyed three of them – "
"Because I ate nothing at dinner," said Quan testily, through a mouthful of (a fourth) cake, "on account of our poor sister. You would have to excuse my gluttony, dear brother."
"Well, true. We are all half-starved. You must eat too, Gonjin. You haven't touched any of the date cakes – they used to disappear as soon as they were put in front of you!"
Zhou Yu smiled half-heartedly but did not move.
"What's wrong?" asked Lu Xun earnestly – sitting next to an indisposed person made him uneasy as well, and he was not sure how much more malaise he could take today. "Tell me. If it's He Fei, I'll get back to work now – "
"It's not He Fei," said Zhou Yu gruffly. "I just want to know, Boyan, if you are honestly prepared to let Liu Bei have Jing."
Ce opened his mouth indignantly at the broach of the subject. Lu Xun, however, compelled to answer – carefully, of course.
"Not for good," he said slowly, "but for the time being I don't see how we can get it back without resorting to bloodshed or trickery."
"So you do think Jing rightfully belongs to us."
Lu Xun said nothing, but swore inwardly: Zhou Yu had trapped him.
"I think Boyan has a point though," sighed Ce, flinging the last dregs of cold tea into the nearest bushes in frustration – he was resigned to the idea of more political talk. "We can't get Jing back now. Any attempt will be a waste of manpower in addition to a sizable blunder."
"Gonjin and I beg to differ," Quan retorted.
"With respect, you're not always reasonable, and Gonjin's an overachiever," Ce countered. "We're not in any immediate danger. The political situation won't degenerate if we wait a few months. Added to that I'm not sure you want act against Pa's wishes –"
"Pa's getting old," said Quan pointedly, "and he never said that we ought to do nothing."
Lu Xun shivered. There was a peculiar, raw edge to Quan's voice that turned his insides cold.
"I'm determined to have Jing back only because I cannot abide the way Liu Bei has treated us," declared Zhou Yu, before Ce could hit back at Quan and turn the conversation into a full-blown argument. "If he had won it fair and square from us I'd be angry at myself for being stupid enough to lose it – not at him."
"But Gonjin, you have to understand where Liu Bei's coming from," Ce said pointedly. "For all his titles and the talented people swarming around him, he's still a man of low birth – a shoemaker, the story goes. Jing is pretty much all he has. To us, it's just another province in the Southland. Why bother fighting with a man with nothing to lose? If we do have a shortage of land – which we really don't – we ought to get it from the north, and hurt Cao Cao all the more by that."
"I disagree," said Zhou Yu indignantly. "Since when were rulers compelled to overlook the interests of their own country in favor of others'? Liu Bei is a threat to us, however much everyone goes on about him having been crucial to our victory at Chi Bi. He'll have to be dealt with someday – and the sooner he is dealt with the easier he is to get rid of."
"Amen," muttered Quan.
"And how will you go about 'dealing' with Liu Bei?" asked Lu Xun. His voice was level, but his heart had begun to thump quite loudly: Zhou Yu's icy words portended something ill in his mind.
"Ideally, I would keep Jing Province and Princess Shang Xiang," said Zhou Yu. "And I would not bring it about by negotiation, either. Liu Bei needs to be taught a memorable and painful lesson."
Silence followed this pronouncement. The three listeners sat uneasily, each turning Zhou Yu's phrases over in his mind. Lu Xun fingered the honey cake on his plate, but could not bring himself to put it in his mouth: though he had hardly eaten dinner, the prospect of Zhou Yu starting a whole new war with Liu Bei made the thought of food at this moment revolting.
"I don't think it will happen," he declared finally, looking squarely at his superior.
"Well, you never know," quipped Ce – jokingly, perhaps, but one was never sure with him. "Liu Bei might be so revolted at the notion of marriage that he'd return Jing in exchange for the privilege of staying single."
"Gentlemen, please!" shouted Zhou Yu. "Have you no faith in my abilities? Or love for your country, for that matter? Give me time to think. I'll think of a plan – a plan to correct all the injustices we've received."
"But Gonjin – "
"Shut up, Boyan," snapped Quan. "Let him think."
They waited and waited, the silence pressing upon their ears like the quiet roar of water. Lu Xun did not know which was more torturous – waiting for Zhou Yu to come up with his plan, or thinking about the sort of plan he would come up with. Having worked under Zhou Yu for years, he knew just how much time Wu's premier strategist required to fashion his plans. Days – weeks – months, in Chi Bi's case – and too many times Lu Xun had been left managing Zhou Yu's office as the latter sat still as a statue in a chair by the window, thinking, thinking, thinking. But for all his impatience he did not know if he wanted Zhou Yu ever to arrive at a plan this time. The more frustrated Zhou Yu was, the crueler his designs became – and Lu Xun had never seen Zhou Yu this frustrated before.
After an indeterminate amount of time, when Lu Xun reckoned that the stars overhead had shifted positions, Zhou Yu finally muttered something unintelligible and stirred.
"I have it," he said quietly.
The others leapt up and, drawn by the quiet determination in his voice, leaned closer to him.
"Out with it," breathed Ce.
Zhou Yu swept his brilliant eyes from one shadowy face to another.
"If Liu Bei is to marry Shang Xiang," he began, "he will have to make his obeisance to Sun Jian at some point – if not also to you, Ce, and you, Quan."
"And what of it?" asked Quan.
"We can ask Liu Bei to travel to Jian Ye for the ceremonies, and that's how we get him. He will be amongst our generals, living behind the lines of our armies. The wedding plans will only be a pretext for his visit. As soon as he arrives we will bind him up and throw him and whomever that dares accompany him in the dungeons – as a hostage – and demand of Shu that they hand over Jing. Or otherwise…we shall…"
He quickly drew a finger across his throat.
"And if all goes well and is kept secret from your father," he concluded, his voice trembling with suppressed excitement as he addressed the Sun brothers, "Shang Xiang shall never be married."
A vast silence followed. Each listener bore a different reaction to Zhou Yu's proposal; Sun Quan froze, his mind still struggling to process what he had heard; Lu Xun collapsed in his chair, stunned; and Sun Ce lost all joviality and sank in his seat.
"Zhou Yu," said the last, in a surprisingly flat and stern voice, "I don't think this'll work."
"Nor do I," Lu Xun, feeling cold sweat start on his brow. "It's crazy."
"It's brilliant, you fools," said Quan eagerly.
"It's stupid!" cried Ce.
"What do you mean, stupid? It solves all our problems in one fell swoop!"
"How about 'creates even more problems for us'?" sputtered Ce, nearly apoplectic. "Even if it works – and I'd bet my life it won't – can you really expect Liu Bei to forgive us for ransoming him once we've gotten Jing back?"
"Oh, we won't ever have to deal with that possibility," said Zhou Yu smoothly. "Liu Bei is good as dead once he falls into our custody, regardless of whether his government decides to accept our terms or not. From the way they profess to love him, they probably will accept them. If not, no problem: even without Jing we will still get our revenge by killing our swindler."
Something snapped inside Lu Xun at those words, and he leapt out of his chair.
"I'm not having any part in this, gentlemen," he said firmly. "Good night!"
Before he could walk two steps, however, a hand of iron landed on his arm, yanking him back.
"You're not leaving," growled Quan, throwing Lu Xun back into his chair. "You're in this, as all of us are."
"I'm certainly not in it!" protested Ce, jumping to his feet. "I oppose this plan completely!"
"And what will you do, tell Pa? He'll never believe you. He trusts Gonjin more than any of us – you know that."
"This isn't like you, Gonjin," Lu Xun said hoarsely. For the first time in the evening, he was thankful there was no moon: tears of anger and frustration were starting in his eyes. "You don't invite guests to Wu to be killed just because you're feeling vengeful!"
"Must we always fight so honorably?" snarled Quan, before Zhou Yu could open his mouth to retaliate. "We can't do everything by the book against a thief and a liar like Liu Bei. His tactics call for like measures – "
"Which we ought to rise above!" shouted Lu Xun, leaning over the table and getting in Quan's face. "I didn't dedicate my life in service to Wu to see her honor stained by petty tricks – "
"Watch your step, sir," Quan growled. "I can have you dismissed here and now."
Lu Xun, not to be cowed, straightened up and set his jaw. "Your father hired me; only he can take such an action. And I can tell Liu Bei tomorrow exactly what you're planning to do to him."
"Oh, you won't," said Zhou Yu, his voice infuriatingly calm. "When Liu Bei turns down our marriage proposal and accuses us of treachery, what'll it look like from our point of view? Treason, most likely. A conspiracy with you at the head."
Lu Xun flushed and clenched his fists. Anger as he had never known it coursed through his frame.
"I can't let you do this," he said through gritted teeth.
"You'll have a hard time stopping me," said Zhou Yu, rising slowly out of his seat. "You forget your place. You are my deputy."
"I don't care!" shouted Lu Xun. "While I live, I won't let you ruin my country!"
"And I won't let you either," whispered Zhou Yu. "Will you bet your honor on it?"
Lu Xun's eyes became slits at the offer. "What do you mean?"
Zhou Yu leaned forward at the boy and smiled.
"I'll try to carry out my plan regardless of your opinion of it. You can try to stop me - or you can do nothing and watch events unfold. You'll simply have to convince me and all of Wu that Liu Bei isn't all that easy to trick."
"He won't be," declared Ce coldly. "You forget that he has Zhuge Liang."
"Whom Gonjin is itching to go head-to-head against," said Quan. "We should oblige him."
"And what will be the conditions of our bet?" demanded Lu Xun.
"You seem absolutely confident in the demise of my plan," said Zhou Yu. "If it succeeds against your expectations, and Liu Bei is assassinated or Jing retrieved as a result - or both - I will expect your resignation from the army."
Sun Ce gave a cry at this declaration.
"You fool, Gonjin! How can you throw away one of Wu's best and brightest over some stupid bet?"
Lu Xun ignored Ce's outburst and kept his gaze on Zhou Yu. "And if you lose?"
"If I lose," said Zhou Yu slowly, "and Liu Bei escapes with princess Shang Xiang and Jing – my post is all yours."
Sun Quan opened his mouth in horror, but no sound ever came out. Lu Xun sought Zhou Yu's shadowy gaze and held it. On very few occasions, he remarked to himself, had he dared to look Zhou Yu in the eye for very long; he was, after all, a subordinate. But not anymore. He had challenged Zhou Yu, and Zhou Yu had recognized him as a competitor – an equal.
"Very well. It is a deal."
And, turning to the Sun brothers, he asked, "Shall one of you gentlemen be a witness?"
Quan and Ce, both very pale, tried one last time to protest, but fell silent at the look of savage determination on Lu Xun's face.
"Well," said Ce weakly, "we ought to have a record of this, right?"
With that he took out a plain handkerchief from his pocket and lit another match, while Sun Quan took out his pen and wrote out, in very neat characters, the conditions of the bet. Then the pen was passed around, and Zhou Yu signed it, followed by Lu Xun, both hands slightly trembling but their names still legible. Lu Xun, after finishing, gave the pen back to Sun Quan, but Sun Ce held out an arm.
"We still need the finishing touch, gentlemen." He removed a tiny seal – the seal with which he signed official documents - from around his neck, and after breathing hard onto it to moisten the pigment, stamped it by the two competitor's names. Then, once he had ascertained that the ink had dried, he stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket, with assurances that he would produce it again once one side had prevailed in the bet.
Zhou Yu turned to Lu Xun and contemplated him. Privately he admitted to himself that, even if he was a bit stubborn, or a full head shorter than him, half his age, Lu Xun of Wunjun already his intellectual equal. The little strategist returned the calculating, studious gaze; and despite the difference in inches and years, his gaze was confident, unwavering, and most significantly of all, indicative of no regret whatsoever of the irrevocable action he had just took. What Zhou Yu did not know, however, was how much of a master Lu Xun already was at hiding his emotions. Despite his defiant countenance, Xun was consumed with dread on the inside – dread at where this battle of pride would lead them both, and most of all their country.
"Well then, I guess, it's good luck to you," said Zhou Yu finally, extending a hand in a token of chivalry.
Lu Xun eyed the proffered hand momentarily, then turned his gaze back upon its owner, before reaching out and clasping it in an ice-cold grip.
"And to you too, Gonjin. May the best win."