The Emperor's Tomb (Cotton Malone 6)
He lunged.
Viktor countered, deflecting the jab, sliding his lance across Malone’s, angling downward, then twisting back.
Malone held tight and deflected the maneuver.
Viktor’s brow was covered in sweat. Malone, too, was warm from the fires burning less than thirty feet away. He decided the braziers might present an opportunity, so he cowered back, dueling with Viktor, drawing his opponent closer. Each hearth stood on three-legged iron stands, elevated about four feet off the floor.
Just unstable enough for his purposes.
Viktor kept coming, following Malone’s lead.
NI PRESSED THE EDGE OF THE BLADE INTO PAU’S NECK. THE OLD man was not resisting, but the two brothers, though unarmed, worried Ni.
He kept his attention on them.
“You can both learn something from their courage,” Pau said.
Tang seemed to resent the jab. “I didn’t know that I lacked courage.”
“Did I tell you to kill Jin Zhao?” Pau asked. “He was a brilliant geochemist. A husband and grandfather. Harmless. Yet you arrested and beat him into a coma. Then you had him falsely convicted and shot while he lay unconscious in his hospital bed. Does that exhibit courage?”
Tang’s shock at the rebuke was obvious.
“When you trapped rats on Sokolov’s stomach and watched his agony, was that courage? When you destroyed Qin Shi’s library, how much courage did that require?”
“I have done nothing but faithfully serve you,” Tang declared.
“Did I tell you to burn that museum to the ground in Antwerp? One of our brothers died in that fire.” Tang said nothing.
“And you, Minister Ni,” Pau said. “How much courage is required to slit an old man’s neck?”
“Not much, so it should be an easy matter for me.”
“You sell yourself short,” Pau said. “In my home you faced the challenge of those killers. It is similar to what we are watching here, as two men confront each other. Both came here totally unaware of what awaited them. Yet they came. That is courage.”
CASSIOPEIA COULD SEE THAT COTTON WAS DRAWING VIKTOR toward the brazier. She debated whether to intervene, but she commanded only one arrow. The robed man unconscious on the floor beside her carried no more.
Revealing her presence now would be counterproductive.
She had one shot, so it had to count.
MALONE KNEW HE WAS CLOSE TO THE HEAT. HE COULD HEAR snapping coals behind him as he fended off another thrust from Viktor’s lance.
He needed a moment, so he swept his spear around in a wide arc, which forced Viktor to grab the shaft with two hands, countering, blocking the blow. In the moment when Viktor readjusted his grip and prepared a strike of his own, Malone slammed his right foot into the iron stand, toppling the copper vessel.
Hot coals spilled across the floor, hissing and smoking.
Viktor cowered back, caught off guard.
Malone used the tip of his spear to pluck one of the coals from the floor.
He slung it toward Viktor, who sidestepped the white-hot projectile.
Malone speared another hot coal and this time slung the ember toward where the other men stood.
NI WATCHED AS MALONE TOSSED ONE OF THE COALS THEIR way. The smoking chunk flew over Tang’s head and disappeared into the shelves behind him. Silks within one of the bins vaporized from the heat, the manuscripts literally disappearing before his eyes.
EIGHTY
MALONE TOSSED THE SPEAR ASIDE, FACED VIKTOR, AND ALLOWED his black mood to envelop him. “We finish this now.”
Viktor did not hesitate. He lost his weapon, too. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”
They sprang into each other, both landing punches. Viktor’s caught Malone near the left temple and the room exploded in a whirl of lights.
He lashed out with his leg, catapulting Viktor, buying the moment he needed to plant a right jab into Viktor’s jaw.
A vicious kick to his lower leg twisted Malone sideways.
He absorbed a couple of blows, drawing Viktor closer. Before a third punch could be landed, he popped Viktor’s throat, then slammed a solid right into the rib cage.
The thin air sliced his lungs like razor blades.
He advanced on Viktor, who was coming back upright, one hand across his gut, his face contorted in rage.
“I’m going to kill you, Malone.”
CASSIOPEIA HEARD VIKTOR’S DECLARATION. EVERY NERVE IN his body seemed taut. He’d plunged into the hall intent on a confrontation. Cotton seemed likewise wired tight.
She was careful to stay behind the pillar, out of sight.
A sharp cry from below drew her attention.
MALONE HEARD A YELL AS VIKTOR’S SHOULDER SLAMMED INTO his chest. Momentum drove them both off their feet. Together they pounded into the hard floor and slid.
Something popped in his own shoulder.
Searing pain shot through his brain and heat surged at the back of his head. He smelled the pungent scent of burning hair.
His own.
Viktor was on top, hands to Malone’s throat.
TANG WAS SHOCKED BY PAU WEN’S VERBAL ATTACK. NEVER HAD the master spoken to him like that, outside of their scripted conversations, performed for Ni’s benefit.
He wondered if this were another—Pau doing what he did best, improvising. He decided to play along. “I was unaware that you thought me such a coward.”
“There are many things you are unaware of.”
“Like the imperial library you found decades ago? Or the fact that you looted Qin Shi’s tomb and brought everything here?”
“All done before you rose to any position of prominence. I, on the other hand, was Hegemon.”
“Why did you flee the pit in Xi’an, with the brothers, leaving Malone and Vitt alive? They should have died there.” That he truly did want to know.
“With all the attention that would have generated? Not even you, the first vice premier, could have explained that.”
“If you think me so incompetent, why are we doing this?”
“Tell him, Minister,” Pau said to Ni. “Why are we doing this?”
NI WAS NOT FOOLED BY PAU’S REBUKE OF TANG, BUT HE DECIDED to answer the inquiry with a question of his own. “How many people are you willing to kill for power?”
“As many as necessary,” Tang said.
“Then the answer to your question is clear,” he said in Pau’s ear. “You are doing this so that a great many people may die.”
A SUDDEN RUSH OF PAIN TO THE TOP OF HIS SKULL ENERGIZED Malone. He swung his right arm up and wrapped Viktor’s neck in a vise grip, rolling, reversing the situation.
Viktor landed atop the coals, which crunched beneath his jacket.
They rolled again, this time away from the heat. But Malone had a problem. His left shoulder hurt badly, and the pain robbed his right arm of strength.
And Viktor pounced.
CASSIOPEIA SAW COTTON REACH FOR HIS LEFT SHOULDER JUST as Viktor swung a fist upward, clipping his jaw, toppling him backward. Viktor seized the moment and found the gun that had slid away at the beginning of the brawl.
She had to do something.
So she reached for the knife in her pocket and tossed it over the rail, angling for the coals near Cotton.
MALONE HEARD SOMETHING LAND IN THE EMBERS.
His eyes darted right and he spotted a knife at the same moment Viktor found the gun.
His shoulder was probably dislocated. Every movement sent electric agony to his brain. His right hand gripped his left arm, trying to hold the joint in place even as he reached for the blade—warm to the touch—flipping the tip between his fingers, ready to toss.
Viktor’s eyes were two hard flints.
Icy sweat beaded on both of their brows.
Viktor aimed the gun.
TANG CRIED OUT IN MANDARIN, “NOW.”
And the two brothers in the shadows raced forward, leveling their crossbows at Ni.
“Your show of courage is over,” Tang said. He caught a look of satisfaction in Pau’s eyes and said, “I thought ahead.”
“You apparently think little of your master,” Ni replied.
“On the contrary. I regard him highly. Enough that if you kill him, we shall kill you.”
“You believe him?” Ni asked Pau. “Or will he kill us both?”
“Lower the blade,” Pau quietly said to Ni.
NI COULD SEE THAT HIS OPTIONS WERE GONE. HE COULD KILL Pau Wen and die right now, or he could lower the weapon and take his chances.
Tang, not Pau, was who deserved to die.
He withdrew the blade and tossed it to the floor.
CASSIOPEIA AIMED HER BOW DOWNWARD, READYING HERSELF. She was unsure of what was happening, other than the fact that Cotton was hurt, Viktor was pissed, Ni was in trouble, and she was in a position to do something.
“Don’t do it,” she shouted.
MALONE HEARD CASSIOPEIA’S VOICE.
His head spun toward its source and he saw a crossbow projecting from the shadows of the first-floor gallery, near one of the pillars, aimed at Viktor.
“Drop the gun,” she yelled. “Now.”
Malone stared at Viktor, who did not move, the weapon held tight with both hands, eyes sighting an aim straight at Malone’s chest.
“Shoot me and she shoots you,” he said to Viktor.
He doubted he could flick the blade before the gun fired.
“That’s my knife,” Viktor quietly said. “I gave it to her.”
“And she gave it to me.”