The first great snowfall in Castleton drifted down for two nights and a day.
By dawn the snow had begun to taper off.
Lena Sanders and Jack Golden leapt down from the back of a northbound merchant wagon, paid their fare, hugged their sleeves against the cold, and trudged through the thick snow into Castleton.
"Let's go to Prince Rui's residence first."
They had barely passed under the city gate when Jack Golden emitted a small sound and hurried ahead, ducking from one alley into another until they reached the eastern gate of Prince Rui's compound.
That eastern gate belonged to Gavin Shea's side. Gavin usually came and went by the main entrance; the eastern gate was for Prince Heir's subordinates—men like William Chen and the household servants.
Lena waited about ten paces away. Jack's nose was bright red from the cold; he sniffed and wiped it on his sleeve. He shuffled to the small servant's wicket beside the eastern gate, peered in with a half-grin at the gatekeeper, and called through the gloom, trying to be polite despite shivering:
"Sir, is Master Wen in the residence? The one who's a military adjutant?"
"Who are you? What business have you with Master Wen?" The gatekeeper asked, doing his best to sound civil but unable to hide his disgust.
"Master Wen sent us. Please tell him we're here." Jack Golden wiped his nose again on his sleeve.
The gatekeeper's face nearly betrayed his revulsion; he stepped back two paces and said, "Wait here."
When William Chen heard the message and the gatekeeper's description of Jack Golden, he couldn't recall ever sending for such a filthy-looking fellow. He hesitated only briefly—he was cautious by nature; if someone came expressly to see him, he would not refuse them simply because they looked unpleasant.
Jack crouched on the windbreak stone, stifling a yawn, when he heard the gatekeeper call, "Master Wen—this is him." He twisted his head, spotted William Chen, and scrambled to his feet.
William had already seen Lena a few paces away. He hurried down the steps and stepped aside, motioning Lena in with a bow. "The master has arrived—please come in."
Wrapped in so many layers and soiled by travel, Lena's sex was indiscernible at a glance. She offered no words; she inclined her head to William and ascended the steps. Jack Golden followed in quick, small steps, bowing first to William, then awkwardly to the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper hastened to return the salute, his eyes wide. When William stepped back to let Lena pass, he breathed a long sigh of relief and patted his own chest as if saved from disaster. He thought to himself—whoever these people were, they must have some weight; thank fortune he had not been rude. One must be kind and civil—if he had taken offense and refused them, this matter might have sent their whole household to the far northern estates. The temper of the Prince Heir was no joke.
William showed Lena into the study, eyeing her grimy clothing. "Shall I have someone help Miss Li wash up? The Prince Heir has not yet dismissed court; he will be back soon."
"No need—it's not that filthy. If there's food, I would like some. I haven't eaten since yesterday noon." Lena asked without pretense.
"Please wait here a moment." William retreated and ordered that food be sent at once.
The dishes arrived quickly. William peered through the slit of the window. Inside, two people sat at the table—one ate with genteel composure, the other devoured his food with loud, greedy gulps. William watched for a time, then withdrew to the corner of the corridor. He would wait outside until the Prince Heir returned.
Gavin Shea arrived back far sooner than William expected, striding through the garden gate. He spotted William and hurriedly demanded, "You're back? Where are they?"
"In the room." William lifted the curtain and ushered Gavin in.
Lena and Jack had eaten their fill and the table had been cleared. Lena sat in a chair, one hand around a teacup, the other tapping the tea table in absent-minded rhythm. Jack crouched on the floor, his back against the chair leg, sleeves tucked, chin on his knees—sound asleep and snoring softly.
"You've had a hard journey." Gavin inclined toward Lena with polite warmth as he regarded the sleeping Jack.
"Prince Heir, you flatter me." Lena rose and returned the bow with a faint smile.
"How did the investigation go?" Gavin sat opposite her, his tone edged with impatience.
Lena stooped to take a battered cowhide satchel from the floor. From the tangled jumble inside she first produced a camphor-wood tube and handed it over.
"This was found inside Fan Ping'an's coffin—hidden between two sutra sheets was a will, written by his own hand. Please read it."
Gavin opened the tube, drew out the will between the two sheets, and scanned it at a rapid glance. He pressed his lips together tightly and passed the paper to William.
Lena then took out a shop ledger. "This was stolen from the Anfu Old Shop. A man named Liu Yun, who went to Riverford City, registered on the eleventh of August under the name Shen Zheng. His appearance and clothing match the description in Fan Ping'an's writing. The staff at Anfu all remember him—arrogant and disgusted by everything."
She handed the ledger to Gavin. He flipped to August 11 and scrutinized the recorded voucher details.
"Look at this—these are vouchers issued from our own Castleton. Have they calculated that I had no way out, or do they think this leverage will let them run rampant?" Gavin slapped the ledger down before William, his teeth clenched with anger.
Lena produced next a formal memorandum and two crumpled slips torn from a receipt register. Gavin examined the memorandum and glanced at the two register entries, then handed them to William.
"You're thorough, Miss." Gavin nodded toward the register.
"Not exactly thorough," Lena replied lightly. "Those two register entries note the time the letter reached General Shao and record his orders. They are far more important than the memorandum."
She turned her gaze from William to Gavin and spoke with cold clarity: "Now I would like to speak for Fan Ping'an."
Lena's face hardened as she addressed both men. "Master Wen said Fan Ping'an came from a family of military households. He was clever from a young age—by the time he was a child he learned scouting from his father. After joining the service he became one of Northrealm's foremost scouts. He was valued for both his wit and courage, and thus chosen to operate undercover in the Southland. He spent seventeen years there and rendered great service to Northrealm. He rose to the rank of deputy intelligence envoy, a fourth-grade post earned by stepping resolutely onto the blade's edge.
"A man like him had conviction, feeling, thought, and judgment—so he wrote this will, recording his fury and his unwillingness to accept what was done to him. I pity him deeply.
"A man of flesh and blood, a pillar of the nation, was used by you as a sword to cut others and then discarded. He died ignominiously and without worth. Ordered to assassinate you—if he succeeded he would have been the instrument of your slaughter; if he failed he lost his life and became the object of your wrath. In either case he would bear blame and disgrace unrelated to his true self, and perhaps bring shame upon his family.
"You forced him into a corner, so he sought out the military general. He planned to secure a forged dossier from the general; the general intended to use his operation to kill you. The day before the assassination he arranged to fall into water and choke—perhaps hoping that if he succeeded in killing you and yet lived, he could then vanish and live under an assumed name.
"None of this is his fault—he was betrayed first by you."
Lena stood and nudged Jack Golden awake. He rolled to his feet, bewildered, and followed her out.
"Miss Li?" Gavin rose quickly. "What would you accept as recompense?"
"Clear Fan Ping'an's name." Lena answered without turning, lifting the curtain as she left.
"I'll see her out." William Chen said, and the two men followed after her.
Gavin lingered a moment, then sat back down, took Fan Ping'an's will, and read it more deliberately.
William returned swiftly. He found Gavin's face ashen with fury and pointed to the ledger. "Those vouchers were issued in Castleton. It will be easy to trace."
"Do it—now!" Gavin slammed his palm onto the thick ledger.
"Only you, Prince Heir, or the Palace could have pushed Fan Ping'an to this point with a mere imperial directive," William said, his voice low and hoarse as he stood motionless before Gavin.
"Investigate!" Gavin's eyes narrowed into a steely glare.
"If he wants to kill me, let him do it with blade and blood! If he stoops to such secret plots, I will drag those plots into the sun! I want to see—who between him and me is more reckless? Who cares less for this empire? Who will not flinch at throwing the realm into chaos?"
"Very well!" William rose, copied the entries from the ledger with a pen, and lifted the curtain to go out.