Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [82]
Picard half expected Lu Tung to shout at Beverly, to hurl curses and invective at her, blaming the foreign woman for disaster that had befallen them all. Instead, he dismissed her apologies with a wave of his hand. “I regret that you have become entangled in our private sorrows,” he said. Emotion warred with sober dignity in Lu Tung’s solemn mien. Picard had to wonder how sincere the warlord’s grief was; had Lu Tung himself arranged the Pearl’s disappearance in order to sabotage the peace? Only Lu Tung appeared to have access to the harem. Who else could have bypassed the dragon in the door?
Lu Tung cast a heavy gaze toward the young girl on the pillows. “Has she said anything?”
“Not a word,” Beverly said. “I’ve tried to convince her to tell me what happened, but she’s keeping mum. I think she’s protecting Yao Hu, or thinks she is.”
That bodes well for the Pearl, Picard thought, since it suggests that the girl fled of her own free will. A surprise elopement complicated matters, but at least it was better than an abduction. With luck, the Green Pearl was still unharmed, although he wondered how long she could remain safe with assassins and alien invaders threatening all of Pai. Runaways often found more trouble than they anticipated.
Lord Lu Tung loomed over Hsiao Har. His deep voice rumbled from somewhere deep within him. “Hsiao Har, daughter of Chuan-chi, granddaughter of the Imperial Dragon, I charge you upon your honor to tell me everything you know about what has become of my daughter.”
Hsiao Har looked up at him, open defiance written all over her face. “Go to any one of the Twenty-Five Hells,” she said. “Perhaps the Frozen Hell of Overambitious Fathers. That would be fitting.”
Lu Tung’s face darkened. “This is no joke, girl!” he said, raising his hand as if to strike Hsiao Har.
“Sir!” Picard protested, stepping forward. Before either man could make another move, the Dragon charged into the room. Troi followed quickly behind him. The Emperor wore only a single saffron robe that strained to cover his Buddha-like proportions. His bare feet kicked the pillows out of his way; Picard noted that the Dragon’s toenails were nowhere near as lengthy as his flamboyantly extended fingernails. He was surprised to see the Emperor up and about; he would have thought the Romulan ale would have put the Dragon out for the night.
“What vile trickery is this?” he bellowed. “Where have you hidden your daughter, Lu Tung?”
“Hidden?” Lord Lu Tung turned on the Dragon, forgetting Hsiao Har for the moment. “How dare you suggest this is my doing! I bring my only daughter your palace, and look what has become of her. My own flesh and blood stolen away under cover of night! Don’t speak to me of trickery, Nan Er.”
The Dragon looked as though he had been slapped across the face with something particularly slimy and disgusting. “Traitor!” he cried. “You have no right to call me by my given name. I am the Dragon—your Dragon—and I should have known better than to trust your two-faced protestations of peace. But I never thought you would sacrifice your own daughter to sabotage our alliance.”
“Sacrifice?” Lu Tung shot back. “What greater sacrifice could there be than to let my daughter marry that cold-blooded excuse for an Heir?”
“Gentlemen!” Picard said loudly, stepping between the two men before they could come to blows. “This is getting us nowhere.”
“But he is a liar and a traitor!” the Dragon shouted. “Why, if I had my sacred sword … !”
“And you are a fool, Nan Er,” Lu Tung said. “You have always been a fool.” He looked on the Dragon with outright contempt. Picard saw a hard-won peace falling to pieces before his eyes.
“Excellence, please!” he said. “Lord Lu Tung, we have no time for these futile recriminations. We must think of the Pearl!”
His argument struck home. Lu Tung backed away from Picard, turning away from the Starfleet captain and his longtime emperor