camwyn | Another story scene.

This one takes place just after the scene in the Audience Hall. There's no real action in it, it's exposition, pure and simple, but right now I'm waiting for SQL Anywhere to finish running a lengthy export... bah. Getting in the mood for tonight's game session.

"Very well," said the man on the Dragon Throne, "you may go." He sat back with a peculiar smile, and around Yang Yulan the crowds began to disperse in a rustle of silks and linens. The young woman crept back half a step, resting one hand against the red-lacquered pillar, and let them go by as the thought whirled in her head.
Her brother Yang Wei was an idiot, an absolute and complete idiot. Everyone in the Hall of Divine Harmony knew that. Oh, he had a talent for omens and a knack for summonings that made senior Seekers suck their teeth in awe, but that didn't change the simple truth: he was an idiot. Yes, the Sky Steeds were bizarre and unnatural, and yes, they posed a danger - but - the dragon! What kind of idiot would do something like that? With so much at stake!
But that was where the answer lay, wasn't it? So much at stake, with the Eighth Emperor dead. So very much to lose. For nearly two thousand years they'd been charged with searching out Heaven's will and maintaining the delicate harmony between Heaven and the people. They'd ferreted out every bit of prophecy or sign that fell to earth, whether in the hands of highborn or low, and they'd taught themselves to understand it. They'd found every single Emperor, even in the days of Qin Guei, who'd tried to steal the omens for himself and put to flight or death every wizard who'd said otherwise. And they'd found the last one, the Eighth Son of Heaven, the man who would have ended China's long exile and restored to them the Middle Kingdom - only to lose him to that damned, damned hurricane, the Storm That No One Sees. . .
They'd asked the gods for answers, and found none. They'd pleaded with Heaven for signs, and none came. They'd all but thrown themselves into the sea in their desperation - some of them had even turned to the ancient, useless ritual of scapulimancy - but not one god or goddess, not one, had answered their cries. Whatever had happened, it had struck Heaven dumb, and left the Seekers flat-footed. Terrified beyond all rational thought, the Imperial Council had struck blindly out for someone's guidance. Since the Seekers could no longer speak with the voice of Heaven, that had meant instead the voice of a man, the Lord Protector.
So of course the young and proud would seize their chance, when the old and wise grew faint with terror. They should have seen it coming. Yang Wei had always been the first of his generation to speak, and he'd spoken. If Heaven was silent, it was because men had failed to please them, and the source of that failure had to be destroyed. She'd thought he'd listened to reason, but then there'd been that awful roar from the harbor-
"Lady," said a low, amused voice in the accent of Gufu City, "perhaps you shouldn't be here."
Yulan jerked back to herself and blinked up at the swarthy man, feeling all the colour draining out of her complexion. Prime Minister Lu Buwei had the sort of smile on his broad, sea-tanned face that usually preceded inconvenient questions. All he said, though, was, "See? Everyone else has gone home. Perhaps you should, too."
Yulan gulped, nodding as she bent nearly double to make the proper obeisances. She could feel the prime minister's eyes on the back of her neck as she gathered her crimson skirts about her and fled the Audience Hall.