BAF 64 - Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat, page 21
part #64 of Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series
“The compass points the way, but one’s own laborious feet must make the journey,” replied Kin tactfully. Then, to deflect the edge of his evasion and to recall Chan Chun’s mind to a brighter image, he adroitly added: “what is the nature of the chief reward, so that we may prepare a worthy place, revered?”
“That,” replied Chan Chun,” is as the one who achieves it may himself decide. The large-hearted Mandarin binds himself by his father’s sacred pigtail that on this unique occasion whatsoever shall be asked will be freely given.”
“That may aptly be related to the Ever-Victorious!” exclaimed the contumacious maiden with the conciseness of contempt. ’Think you, O credulous bone-chipper, that if the one thus singled out should demand the life, the wealth, or even the favoured wife of the Mandarin himself—”
“To do anything so outrageous would clearly proclaim a subverter of authority, and thereby a traitor to the State. A traitor is essentially a malefactor, and as all criminals are definitely excluded from competing it automatically follows that the triumph of this particular one is necessarily null and void and another—more prudent—must be chosen in his stead. Thus justice moves ever in a virtuous cycle, and the eternal proprieties are fittingly upheld. For myself,” added the not undiscriminating Chan Chun reflectively, “I shall gladden the face of this remunerative patron by the suggestion of a striking but more or less honorary distinction;”
“To surmount above our sign the likeness of an official umbrella would cast a gratifying shadow of authority upon the Conscientious Elephant,” remarked the keeper of his hearth.
“Accompanied by the legend: ’Under the magnanimous thumb of the auspicious Tseng Hung,’” amplified Chan Chun. ’The hint is by no means concave.”
As the day of the great event drew near, the air above Tai-chow grew dark with the multitude of rumours that went up on every side. While many of these were of a gratuitous and inoffensive nature, it cannot be denied that others were deliberately cast abroad by thrifty persons whose business it was to make a profit from the fluctuating hopes and fears of those who staked upon the chances of competing craftsmen. Few were so lacking in respect toward the Omens as not to venture a string of cash in favour of the one who appeared before them in a lucky dream. Even the blind, the deaf and the dumb, and the mentally deficient, lying about the city gates, forecast portents at their leisure in the dust and esteemed from the passer-by a predictive word whispered behind a screening hand more than they did the bestowal of a coin in silence.
In the meanwhile, Chan Chun and Kin laboured at their respective tasks secretly and alone—Kin because the only leisure he obtained was in his own penurious room, the former person owing to his cold and suspicious nature. The task upon which he engaged was one wherein ingenuity combined with art to a very high degree. Selecting his purest and most massive block of ivory, he skilfully fashioned it into a measured counterpart of the great Palace of the Lustres as it stood. Then, to continue the similitude, within this outer shell he carved the core into a smaller likeness of the same, perfect in every detail, and thus and thus, down to the seventeenth image—a pigmy Palace no larger than the capacity of a cherry stone but equipped to the slenderest point. Yet despite the complex nature of the task, none of the sixteen smaller Palaces could be removed away from its encircling walls, all the cutting being achieved by Chan Chun through succeeding openings as he worked inward. When this truly elaborate piece should be placed within the walls of the Palace itself, the analogy would be complete, and the craftsman did not doubt that a universal shout of accord would greet his triumph.
On the eve of the day of trial, Chan Chun crept out secretly at dusk and distrusting all hired assistance carried his work by unfrequented ways to the Palace of the Lustres and there deposited it. As he reached his own door again he encountered Kin, who would have avoided him, but Chan Chun was feeling very pleasantly arranged within himself at the thought of his success and would not be disclaimed.
“Within the four walls of the arts, all men are brothers,” he speciously declared. “Remove the cloth that covers your achievement, worthy Kin, and permit my failing eyes to be rewarded by a blaze of glory.”
“Even a sightless bat would recognize its grotesque imperfections,” deferentially replied Kin, and he disclosed what he had done.
For a measured beat of time, Chan Chun continued to observe the ivory bird with outstretched wings that Kin had fashioned, and although the expression of his face slowly changed from one extreme to another he was incapable of speech, until the youth, deeming the matter sufficiently displayed, passed along and into the outer way. Then the master sought a solitary chamber, and having barred the door he sank upon a couch as he exclaimed:
“Assuredly it breathes! I have carved with a chisel but Kin Weng has endowed with life itself.”
That same night, at the middle hour of the darkness, the keeper of the door of the Palace of the Lustres was roused from his sleep by a discreet but well-sustained knocking on the outer wall. For some time he did not attach any importance to the incident, but presently the unmistakable sound of a piece of silver being tested against another caused him to regard the matter as one which he should in duty probe. On the threshold he found Chan Chun, who greeted him with marked consideration.
“You alone stand between me and humiliation on the morrow,” said the craftsman with engaging freedom. “When the painstaking Mandarin who is to judge our efforts selects as the worthiest that which I have brought, how will his inspired decision be announced?”
“Should your hopes be fruitful, a full-throated herald of the court will cry aloud your name, the sign beneath which you dwell, and the nature of your handicraft. On hearing these, a chosen band outside will repeat the details to the four corners of the earth, to symbolize the far-extending limit of your fame, their voices being assisted when necessary by a company of lusty horners…And thereupon this necessitous person will seek out one with whom he has wagered on the strength of your renown and claim from him an indicated stake. May your valiant cause succeed!”
“Doubtless it may in its essence, yet none of these things you speak of will ensue—particularly the last,” replied Chan
Chun. “By an incredible perversity, the written tablet of my name and the like required details has been omitted, so that when the choice is reached no announcement can be made. The vanquished, not slow to use this sordid weapon put within their reach, will claim the forfeit of my chance, urging that by this oversight I have not fulfilled the declared terms, nor can those who hold the balance resist the formal challenge. Not to further this act of iniquity, permit me to pass inside, gracious Pang, so that I may complete what is now lacking.”
’This is a somewhat knotty tangle, chieftain,” said the keeper of the door uncertainly, “and one not over clear as to which end leads to wisdom. Thus it was laid upon me as a solemn charge, that at the sounding of the eighth gong all further traffic in this matter ceased—that which is within remaining so and all beyond excluded from the Hall. Should it come to the ears of high ones that in this I have failed incapably—”
“It is foreseen,” interposed Chan Chun; “nor is your complicity involved. As I awaited you, a piece of silver slipped down from my grasp and rolled some way apart. Should you seek this, your eyes will be upon the ground, and nothing else will come within their sight, while being at a little distance from the open door you will have no knowledge that anyone goes in or out. Thus, with well-chosen words, you can safely take the most convincing oath, nor will your phantom’s future state be thereby held to bondage.”
“That which has an inlet has an outlet also,” assented Pang, now fully reassured, “and your mind is stored with profitable wisdom. Yet,” he added thoughtfully, “it is no less truly said, ’As the glove smells, so the hand.’ Is the piece of silver which is the basis of this person’s attitude lawful in weight and of the stipulated purity?”
“If anything, it exceeds in both respects,” affiirmed Chan Chun. “Preserve a virtuous front in all contingencies and none can implicate you.”
It has already been discreetly indicated that, in a moment of emergency, Chan Chun’s character might undergo a downward bend. So far he had been able to withstand all the ordinary allurements placed about his path by evil Forces, none of these being on a sufficiently large scale to make the hazard profitable. But in Kin’s great achievement he plainly recognized the extinction of his own preeminence among the craftsmen of Tai-chow, for none could miss its matchless qualities nor fail to accord to it an excellence above his own. To this contemplation was added the acuter barb that the one who should supplant him thus publicly was the disregarded underling who served his bench. In this extremity Chan Chun sent forth a message of despair to any passing demon who would succour him and even yet assure his triumph. To his weak and superficial mind, the solution at once offered by one seemed both adequate and just, and he accordingly proceeded to that end. Having gained admission to the unguarded Hall by the stratagem set forth, he treacherously removed the tablet of Kin’s name from off its owner’s work and placed it on his own, and in like manner transferred his own name and description to the creation of his servant’s hand, well knowing that Kin had none to support his claim, and that, if dissent arose, the word of an obscure hireling would not emerge above Chan Chun’s outstanding voice. Then, after again exhorting Pang to maintain an unswerving denial in the face of any question, he returned to his own abode, quite satisfied that, in a very difficult matter, he had acted up to the requirements.
On the following day, Chan Chun would have denied to Kin any respite from his task, the better to effect his crafty scheme, but as soon as it was light, a herald passed along the Ways announcing in the Mandarin’s name that to mark so special an occasion no one should engage in any work that day, but should, instead, receive a double wage, and so great was the respect now paid to Tseng Hung’s slightest wish that, among all those who laboured in or about Tai-chow, there was not one who did not instantly comply.
At the appointed hour every person in the city and the boundaries round who was capable of movement was clustered about the Palace of the Lustres, Chan Chun and Kin among them. The former of the two had purchased a position upon an erected structure draped with red, which enabled him to maintain an attitude of ease and arrogance toward those who stood below, while Kin had been content to arrange himself among the feet of the foremost line. When the Mandarin Tseng Hung appeared, surrounded by his guard, so loud and continuous was the thunder of his welcome that several flashes of lightning are credibly asserted to have followed, owing to an excess of zeal on the part of the conscientious but inexperienced Being who had charge of it. Yet it is to be doubted if Kin heard a sound or saw any of the moving crowd, for at a single glance he plainly recognized in Tseng Hung the agreeable philosopher who had assured him of protection when they encountered in the wood.
In order to avoid the possible profanity of the Mandarin being actually touched by a person of no distinction the Hall of the competition had not been opened since the preceding night, nor were any allowed to pass within when Tseng Hung entered it, save only his chosen band. To those among the throng outside who were competing craftsmen the moments were as leisurely as the shadow of a branchless pine tree moving across a level sward.
At length one in authority came forth, and at the sight of him, expecting this to be the herald who should proclaim the victor, speech and movement died away, so that the only sounds heard throughout the vast multitude were the indignant cries of those who enjoined silence on each other.
“Let two approach and with downcast eyes prepare to be received into the very presence of the august Tseng Hung himself,” announced the messenger, in an all-powerful voice. “These be Chan Chun, who carves ivory beneath the sign of a golden elephant, and Kin, the attendant of his hand. Hear and obey.”
“Your wholly abject hastens to comply,” cried Chan Chun, almost casting himself bodily from the height of the barrier in a passion of servility, and still more in a praiseworthy determination to be there before the inopportune Kin should gain the Mandarin’s ear. Kin, however, was no less speedy, although the obstruction of his passage was equally involved, so that, as a result, they reached Tseng Hung and prostrated themselves, each with his face pressed submissively into the dust, side by side.
“Rise, unassuming ones,” said the Mandarin, with a consideration almost unparalleled in an official of his illustrious button. “Your attitude, though complimentary in itself and eminently suited to a merely formal greeting, is frankly embarrassing to all in the light of well-extended conversation.”
“Your gracious words sink through the back of my threadbare head and reached even this ill-nurtured brain, so clear-cut is the penetration of their brilliance,” replied Chan Chun, scarcely daring to obey so indulgent a command.
“Doubtless,” assented the Mandarin, with high-born tact, “But owing to the necessary inversion of our respective postures yours unfortunately do not possess a reciprocal capacity. Furthermore,” he continued, in a voice from which the sympathetic modulation began imperceptibly to fade, “in order to avoid a very regrettable strain upon your neck, it will be necessary for you to use your eyes adroitly. Raise yourself to a position in keeping with your wide repute, upright Chan, and state deliberately wherein lies the pith of associating your ornate name with a merely shapeless block.”
The matter having thus become too intricately arranged to be parried by evasive flattery, Chan Chun raised so much of himself as was permissible and looked toward the indicated point, but at the benumbing sight he dropped back into his original abandonment, partly because his two-faced joints betrayed his flaccid limbs, but also to gain a precious moment in which to rearrange his mind. What he had seen was the foundation of Kin’s work indeed, still bearing the tablet of his own name and sign, as he had unostentatiously contrived, but the bird itself was no longer there. So lifelike had been Kin’s inspired touch that the sound of one of its own kind calling from outside had enticed the creature into flight.
“In order to give your inventive mind an unfettered range we will pass for the moment from the question of punishing contumely to that of rewarding merit,” continued the justice-loving Tseng Hung impartially. “This ingenious but by no means heroic device of concentric palaces, bearing the name and symbol of Kin Weng, the underling of the momentarily indisposed Chan Chun, must be selected to receive our highest commendation. Let the herald therefore proclaim—”
“Imperishable!” exlaimed Chan Chun, unable any longer to retain between his teeth the bitterness of seeing his achievement surrendered to another, “before the decisive word is spoken, hear the ungilded truth of my misshapen lips. In the darkness of the night, having discovered an essential detail to be lacking from my task, I sought to remedy this. Deluded by the misguiding beams of the great sky lantern, my inept hand must have stumbled in the direction of its quest, and thus the tablet that I would have placed about my work found a resting place upon the immature effort of this inoffensive youth.”
“His in like manner?” inquired the painstaking Mandarin.
“Possibly unseen Influences have therein been at work,” Chan Chun ventured to suggest. “Or, perchance, one of those concerned about the Hall, seeing a deficiency, removed a tablet from the space where two appeared, and thus and thus—”
“What fits the right foot does not necessarily fit the left,” remarked the judicial-minded administrator, keeping a firm grasp upon the intricacies of the case. “Is there present anyone who can bear witness to your cause, Chan Chun?”
“Pang, who guards the outer door of the Palace, will uphold what I have said,” replied Chan Chun, endeavouring to convey by a veiled glance toward the one in question a knowledge of the changed necessity pursuing him. “He it was who, measuring the extremity of my need with a forbearing rod, admitted me by night.”
“High excellence,” declared the inauspicious Pang, thrusting himself forward from among those who were stationed round, “may my lot through all futurity be a rigid arm and an itching sore if my discovering eye beheld the sight or if this forbidding hand was raised to suffer any man to pass,” and the slow-witted person who had spoken closed one eye in the direction of Chan Chun in order to reassure him that he would, despite all enticement to the contrary, tenaciously follow his instruction.
“We have heard it said, ’One may ride upon a tiger’s back but it is fatal to dismount,’ and you, Chan Chun, are experiencing the wisdom of the verse,” declared Tseng Hung. “Pang having bent within your hand, it behoves your expectant eyes to seek another prop. Is there, by chance, none who has seen you busied at your task?”
“Alas, omnipotence, I wrought in secret lest another should forestall my plan.”
“Can you then implicate Kin Weng with this emblem of contempt and save your own repute by calling to your aid those who have marked it beneath his fashioning hand?”
“I also strove unnoticed at my toil, benevolence, nor has any ever deigned to tarry as he passed my despised bench by,” interposed Kin, not thinking it necessary to declare himself more fully until it became apparent on which side justice lay.
“He whose sandals are in holes is seldom asked to ride,” quoted Chan Chun, plainly recognizing that disgrace would attract few toward his need. “Having reached the end of my evasion, mightiness, I bend an acquiescent neck.”
“In that case your suspense should not be long,” was the humane assurance, but before Chan Chun could frame a submissive line a disturbing tumult reached their ears.
“Great Head,” cried a captain of the guard which stood outside, entering with an absence of all seemly form, “there is an omen in the sky to justify my uncouth haste. A strange white bird has three times circled round the tower above and now remains suspended in an unnatural poise, high in the middle air.”
