Part 21 (2/2)

”As would I,” I said cautiously.

The next day, we set out.

It was quite a procession that made its way across Chinpan. Myself and the Imperior, of course. Itso Esi was there was well. Apparently he considered this the ideal opportunity to converse with the Imperior about every d.a.m.ned thing under the sun. At first he clearly thought that I was going to try and horn in on his time. But when it quickly became evident to him that I was more than content to hang back and let him have the floor, he took it and held it with relish.

The Imperior appeared to listen to everything he had to say. Every so often he would nod, which pleased Itso Esi no end, and he would veer off onto another ”incredibly important” topic. We were certainly well protected. There was a handful of Hamunri there, but my a.s.sumption was that most of that upper echelon of warriors was off with Go Nogo, investigating the Forked Tong business.

Granted, no reward for the demise of the Forked Tong would be forthcoming if Nogo's people disposed of them, but the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds would be gone with no risk to myself. Plus I had my own rather handsome compensation awaiting me upon completion of the Imperior's new home. So I was satisfied with the situation as it stood.

Instead of the Hamunri, there was a large column of regular Chinpan soldiers on either side of us.

They looked as if they'd been cut from a cookie cutter. Each one identical, marching in perfect, uniform stride or, in some cases, on horseback with their mounts also moving in precision. Their grim expressions were identical, the way they wore their swords, their weapons, absolutely indistinguishable one from the other. I had to shake my head in grudging admiration. All the times I'd seen knights riding out into battle or going on a journey, I was able to discern individuality. Not from this bunch. They moved with one mind and, presumably, with one purpose. I was relieved that we were all on the same side. I would have hated to have to face them in combat.

The journey took several days. We pa.s.sed farm villages along the way, or groups of travelers standing to either side of the road to make way for the Imperior's procession. People would bow and sc.r.a.pe as the Imperior pa.s.sed. I liked to entertain myself every so often by pretending they were responding to my presence rather than his. When one is on a long journey, one pa.s.ses the time any way that one can.

On the fifth day of our journey, I knew we were drawing close. I could even hear the sounds of construction coming from the far side of a ridge. We would not be able to see the progress of the house until we achieved the top of the ridge, but that was perfectly fine as far as I was concerned. It would be more dramatic that way. To ride to the top of the ridge and look down upon the sprawling achievement that would (if my instructions were being followed) look remarkably like King Runcible's castle lifted stone by stone from Isteria and relocated to Chinpan.

I drew close, ignoring Itso Esi's chatter about some new and amazing weapon he was trying to convince the Imperior about called ”gunpowder,” and I said, ”Prepare to be dazzled, Your Wors.h.i.+p.”

The columns of soldiers separated as we approached the ridge, allowing us access to the top. The Imperior's horse reached the top of the ridge first, which was of course as it should be. He paused there for a long moment, staring outward thoughtfully. Then slowly he turned toward me and said, ”I am perceiving a severe lack of dazzlement.”

Well, I certainly didn't like the sound of that. I snapped my horse's reins and urged the beast forward, carefully so that I didn't startle the Imperior's steed and cause an accident. I achieved the ridge and looked down, and couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Far below, like a swarm of ants, the builders were constructing what was clearly a wall. It was supposed to be one of the four sides of the exterior wall that would surround the castle.

There was not, however, a castle. Not even the beginnings of the foundation for the castle.

Instead there was simply a wall. The one wall. It stretched as far as the eye could see, miles in either direction, and was roughly twenty-five feet high. As near as I could determine, workers were continuing to labor to extend the wall farther and farther both ways.

”What the h.e.l.l--?” I gasped out. ”There is a wall there,” said the Imperior. He did not sound especially pleased.

”Yes, Imperior, I know there is a--”

”Where there is one wall, should there not be at least...” He paused, counted. ”...three others?”

”I would think so, yes.”

”To form a sort of square?”

”Most definitely.” I was starting to feel faint.

”And yet I count just the one,” the Imperior noted. ”One very long wall, running--it would seem--the length of my country's border. I do not pretend to understand it. But I cannot say I like it.”

”I fully understand, Great One, and we shall immediately investigate the cause of this...” I searched for the right word. ”...this anomaly.”

”See that you do. Because I am quite sure I wanted to see a house. Or, minimally, the recognizable beginnings of a house. Not a single wall. And if a single wall is all you have to show me, honorable architect, then you will have a serious problem on your hands.”

I noticed that he wasn't saying ”we” would. I would.

Quickly we made our way down to the work site. The workers saw us coming, and word spread quickly throughout the camps. Within minutes all construction had halted, and everyone was on their knees, their eyes resolutely down.

It didn't take us long to find the foreman, an aggressive fellow named Kan Du, renowned for his att.i.tude. He approached us, grim-faced and clearly determined to make a positive impression upon the Imperior. He had my plans for the construction of the residence tucked under his arm. They looked rather worn. I had the feeling he never put the d.a.m.ned things down.

But Kan Du wasn't stupid. He could see immediately that the Imperior did not appear happy.

Nevertheless, he gamely bowed and said, ”Greetings. Work continues apace on the wall.”

”On the wall?” asked the Imperior. He turned and looked at me questioningly.

Kan Du was staring at me strangely as well. I should have realized that he was reacting to the clear fact that I was not from this country, but I had too much else on my mind at that moment. ”What about the other walls?”

”We do not have remotely sufficient building materials for the other three,” said Kan Du as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ”So we elected to accomplish as much as we could on the one wall and wait for more materials to arrive.”

”More materials!” Itso Esi squealed out. ”But what you had should have been sufficient to construct the entire palace! Instead you have placed it all into this... this...”

”Wall. Is it not great?” said a cheery Kan Du. ”A great wall is of no use to me,” said the Imperior. He sounded angrier than I had ever heard him, and I couldn't entirely blame him. ”How did this happen?”

”We simply followed the designs we'd been sent.”

”Designs,” and slowly the Imperior looked at me. ”Designs crafted by you.”

”But my designs didn't call for a miles-long wall!” I protested. I dismounted and limped over to Kan Du, practically ripping the designs out from under his arm. I eased myself onto the ground and spread the designs out. ”Look! Look here!” I jabbed my finger repeatedly into the plans. ”Each of these squares is supposed to be ten...”

I stopped.

Keep in mind, I didn't know how to write the language. But Itso Esi had volunteered to show me how to write ”One square equals ten feet” for me, and I had then meticulously copied what he'd written onto the plans. The thing was, I had stared at the designs for so long that I knew every square inch of them.

So when I looked at the writing now where the scale was, I knew something was wrong. There was a variation in the letters. Minor variation, so small as to be almost unnoticable at casual glance. A line or two added. But it was enough to change it.

”What does this say?” I asked slowly.

Kan Du leaned in and said, ”One square equals ten miles.”

I shook my head. ”No. No, that's not possible.”

”Possible, not possible, no matter,” Kan Du replied. ”That is what it says. Our job is not to question doc.u.ments. Our job is to build what doc.u.ments say. We did our job.”

Itso Esi looked at me in a most accusatory manner. ”Honorable Po,” he said in a voice reeking of stunned shock, ”how could you possibly have made such an error?”

”Me?” I clambered to my feet. ”You're the one who told me how to write the scale!”

”And I told you correctly. I can't be held responsible if you sent it out with a mistake.”

”There was no mistake when I sent it out!”

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