Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [37]
“The Dragon, in his generosity, has provided me with quarters of my own within the Imperial Palace,” Lu Tung explained. “This is the entrance to my harem, where my daughter resides until tomorrow.”
“I look forward to meeting her, Lord Lu Tung,” Beverly said. She wondered whether the Emperor had deliberately placed Lu Tung’s quarters beyond this engraved saga of thwarted ambition. A not-so-subtle message, perhaps, and a permanent recrimination? They passed under the archway, leaving the armed guards behind.
Lu Tung’s harem proved to be surprisingly spacious. Despite the cautionary carvings over the gate, Beverly observed, the rebel lord had hardly been confined to the Tower of London. The hall they traversed seemed infinitely long, the combination of dim lighting and puffs of brightly colored incense making the farther end difficult to discern. Doorways, painted a dizzying variety of hues, opened onto a variety of chambers on either side of the hall. Beverly peeked through the open doors as she hurried by them, getting quick glimpses of opulent furnishings and gilded, luxurious decor. Women, all strikingly beautiful and clad in long, elegant gowns, drifted along the length of the hall, bowing to the floor as they recognized their lord. Although their garments superficially resembled Beverly’s, she noted that the women’s gowns were slit higher along the sides, and cut lower in the front. This was a harem after all, she recalled.
“What a lot of women there seem to be,” Beverly said, intrigued. “Do they all reside here?”
“Of course,” Lu Tung replied. Beverly contemplated the back of his head, wishing she could watch his facial expressions. She hoped she wasn’t being too nosy. “These are just servants, really.”
For servants, the women did not appear to be doing much besides gliding to and fro through the outer chambers of the harem. Indeed, their lavish, expensive-looking attire seemed quite ill suited to housework or other practical duties. Surely, though, the women’s function couldn’t be entirely decorative, could it? “Your servants are unusually attractive,” she said.
“They’re mostly there as insulation between my inner harem and the outside world,” Lu Tung explained.
“I see,” she said, understanding at last. “Just in case someone gets through the palace’s defenses, and past the men with the swords.”
“Quite right,” he said. “This way intruders will be distracted and not get to my daughter or my concubines before I am able to intercede. I take excellent care of all my women.”
Although Beverly could not see his face, Lu Tung’s voice sounded sincere. As spoiled Pai males went, he struck Beverly as a decent sort; so far he had treated her with respect, and had not made any improper advances to her even though he now had her alone in his harem. (Beverly did not bother with false modesty. All decked out in her robes of peach and emerald, she knew she was stunning.) None of which, she reminded herself, meant that Lu Tung had not been responsible for the assassination attempt during the banquet. A man could be chivalrous and still plot to conquer a throne; Klingon legend held that even the fierce Kahless had shown mercy toward the women and children of his enemies. As the Dragon’s longtime enemy, Lu Tung had to head the list of suspects.
“Is your daughter near, Lord Lu Tung?” Beverly asked.
“At my instruction, she sits in the Room of Prolonged Anticipation tonight.”
“Not too prolonged, I hope,” Beverly joked.
“Not at all,” Lu Tung replied. “Here we are.” Unlike the other doorways they had walked past, this one was closed and seemingly impenetrable. Aquamarine trimming outlined a rectangular metal gate wide enough to permit two people’s passage if not for the dense, black door blocking their path. Beverly touched the dark-hued metal with her fingers; it felt like solid iron. An embossed dragon, at least six meters tall, guarded the door, beneath a string of unfamiliar Chinese characters painted above the upper edge of the door. Beverly could not read the