Chains Of Eternity: Defiling Heaven

Zhao Bao: The Hand That Named the Fox

"That I was nothing but a scavenger who wanted a free meal." Xiao Meng's voice stayed gentle. "At that hour, no horse had been reported, no jar had been counted. The steward had not yet entered the stable. Only one kind of man hunts the fox before the hens have begun to cry, and it is the man who watched the fox walk in."

Silence fell like a dropped blade.

"That's right," Qingyue whispered, then louder, her eyes blazing. "That's right! You said it before anybody knew anything! You knew!"

"A slip of the tongue!" Zhao Bao barked. "Anyone could have guessed a stranger would steal..."

"Guessed what, exactly? A theft that no one had yet discovered?" Xiao Meng tilted his head. "If a man cries 'thief' while the house still sleeps, either he is a prophet or he is the thief. And I do not think you are a prophet."

"Master Su," Old Qian stammered from his knees, daring to lift his head. "The farrier's stamp, the one I use to mark hoof-shapes on the new shoes. It's been missing from my toolbox since the day before yesterday. I thought it was misplaced..."

"A stamp for hoofprints," Su Beichen said softly, "that fits no horse in my caravan but the one that has vanished."

"Lu Heng," Zhao Bao pleaded, turning in a half-circle. "You know me! Ten years I've guarded this caravan! You can't believe the word of a nameless fool over mine!"

Lu Heng did not answer. His eyes had gone to the compost yard, and his jaw was tight.

"Mu Jian," Su Beichen said quietly. "The compost yard. Take two men. Search the old granary behind the stables as well."

Mu Jian was gone less than a quarter of an hour. When he returned, his boots stank, and he carried a sealed jar slung over each shoulder and a third beneath his arm, still crusted with dung. Behind him, two guards led a mare with a red-brown coat, hobbled and calmly chewing.

"Under the heap, my lord, exactly as he said. The mare was in the granary, fed and watered."

Zhao Bao's face went the color of ash. His hand flew to his sword and he lunged backward toward the postern, but Mu Jian's iron grip fell on his shoulder before he had taken two steps, and he crashed to the ground with a cry.

"Who paid you?" Su Beichen's voice was very calm, and that made it more frightening than a shout.

Zhao Bao spat dust. "A man in the market. He didn't tell me his name. But he knew what was in the middle jar." He grinned through bloodied teeth. "You think a few jars of wine would make a man do this?"

Su Beichen's eyes slid to the middle jar. Its cinnabar seal was unbroken.

For a long moment no one spoke. Even Qingyue's chatter had stilled.

"Lock him in the cellar," the old merchant said at last. "And have that jar brought to my room. Today, no one leaves the manor without my word." He turned his gaze on Xiao Meng, and it carried something heavier than gratitude. "It seems my caravan has taken in more than a swordsman."

Lu Heng stared at Xiao Meng for a long moment. The hostility in his eyes had been replaced by something more cautious.

"Brother Xiao!" Qingyue flung herself at his arm, glowing. "You were incredible! Like a ghost scholar from an old story! How did you know all that?"

Xiao Meng looked down at his own hands.

"I don't know," he said honestly.