Ice and Fire by David Wingrove Read Free Book Online Page B

now. The wheel no longer turns. We have done with history.’
    Ben laughed. ‘But you cannot stop the world from turning!’
    He was about to say more but his mother touched his arm. She had sat there, perfectly still and silent, watching the fire while they talked, her dark hair hiding her face. Now she smiled and got up, excusing herself.
    ‘Perhaps you men would like to go through into the study. I’ve lit the fire there.’
    Shepherd looked to the T’ang, who gave the slightest nod of agreement before standing and bowing to his hostess. Again he thanked her warmly for the meal and her hospitality, then, when she had gone, went before Shepherd and his son into the other room.
    ‘Brandy?’ Shepherd turned from the wall cabinet, holding the decanter up. The T’ang was usually abstemious, but tonight his mood seemed different. He seemed to want to talk – to encourage talk. As if there were some real end to all this talking: some problem which, though he hadn’t come to it, he wished to address. Something he found difficult; that worried him profoundly.
    The T’ang hesitated, then smiled. ‘Why not? After all, a man ought to indulge himself now and then.’
    Shepherd poured the T’ang a fingernail’s measure of the dark liquid and handed him the ancient bowled glass. Then he turned to his son. ‘Ben?’
    Ben smiled almost boyishly. Are you sure mother won’t mind?’
    Shepherd winked at him. ‘Mother won’t know.’
    He handed the boy a glass, then poured one for himself and sat, facing the T’ang across the fire. Maybe it was time to force the pace; time to draw the T’ang out of himself.
    ‘Something’s troubling you, Shai Tung.’
    The T’ang looked up from his glass almost distractedly and gave a soft laugh. ‘Everything troubles me, Hal. But that’s not what you mean, is it?’
    ‘No. No visit of yours is casual, Shai Tung. You had a specific reason for coming to see me.’
    The T’ang’s smile was filled with gratitude. ‘As ever, Hal, you’re right. But I’ll need no excuse to come next time. I’ve found this very pleasant.’
    ‘Well?’
    The T’ang took a long inward breath, steeling himself, then spoke. ‘It’s Tolonen.’
    For some time now the T’ang had been under intense pressure from the House to bring the General to trial for the murder of Under Secretary Lehmann. They wanted Tolonen’s head for what he’d done. But the T’ang had kept his thoughts to himself about the killing. No one – not the Seven or Hal Shepherd – knew how he really felt about the matter, only that he had refused to see Tolonen since that day; that he had exiled him immediately and appointed a new General, Vittorio Nocenzi, in his place.
    Shepherd waited, conscious of how tense Li Shai Tung had suddenly become. Tolonen had been of the same generation as the T’ang and they shared the same unspoken values. In their personal lives there had been parallels that had drawn them close and formed a bond between them; not least the loss of both their wives some ten years back. In temperament, however, they were ice and fire.
    ‘I miss him. Do you understand that, Hal? I really miss the old devil. First and foremost for himself. For all that he was. Loyal. Honest. Brave.’ He looked up briefly, then looked down again, his eyes misting. ‘I felt he was my champion, Hal. Always there at my side. From my eighteenth year. My General. My most trusted man.’
    He shuddered and was silent for a while. Then he began again, his voice softer, yet somehow stronger, more definite than before.
    ‘Strangely I miss his rashness most of all. He was like Han Ch’in in that. What he said was always what part of me felt. Now I feel almost that that part of me is missing – is unexpressed, festering in the darkness.’
    ‘You want him back?’
    Li Shai Tung laughed bitterly. As if I could. No, Hal, but I want to see him. I need to speak to him.’
    Shepherd was silent for a time, considering, then he leaned forward and