Imperial Palace, Beijing
Normally, he’d have his Minister of War advise him. But that wasn’t possible now. Minster Wang and the imperial princes were somewhere in the empire’s north, fighting for survival against whatever disloyal faction had been flushed into the open.
He had the rest of his ministers -- minus Personnel, he’d need to make an appointment to replace the late Minister Cai -- and hopefully, their combined knowledge would make up for any shortfall.
Qian Qianyi was there. The Grand Secretary had a bandage across part of his face. “Your majesty,” he said, “if it is any comfort, your imperial ancestors survived far worse calamities in their time.”
He did not respond.
“I have double-checked all of the usual astronomical phenomena,” that was Kong Zhenyun, Minister of Rites, “and there was nothing at all to foretell such a turn of events. Whatever happened just now, it was not due to the displeasure of Heaven.”
“Thank you,” the emperor said, a trifle coldly. “Does anyone here know of a concrete, tangible step that I can take? Or must I sit in this palace and hope that the rebellion burns itself out?”
Nobody said anything for a while. Minister Kong looked like he’d swallowed a slice of bitter melon.
Finally, Minister Zhou cleared his throat. “Your majesty,” he said, “I think the best thing to do is to continue gathering information and organizing our forces. We need to find those who are truly loyal and gather them here, to safeguard the city -- and your person -- against any future threat. Then we smash the traitors.”
The Minister of Revenue was accompanied by his secretary, Gao Xuan. The emperor faintly remembered that the man had come from Kaifeng and was now very much Minister Zhou’s right hand. In fact, when the violence had broken out in the city, Minister Zhou had apparently been laying low in Gao Xuan’s residence, in the city. Could they be...? No, that’s ridiculous. Although Zhou’s from Fujian; I guess that wouldn’t be too surprising.
“First things first,” Qian Qianyi leaned forward, “by your order, we will reach out to the provincial governors and commanders across the empire to gauge their loyalty. We must be aware, though, that the conspirators may already be doing the same.”
The emperor nodded.
“There is also the matter of the other imperial princes,” the Grand Secretary continued. “I refer, of course, to the sons and grandsons of your imperial predecessors, on their estates in the countryside. It is not inconceivable that-” He checked himself. “I mean, the conspirators may have decided, in the event that your sons-”
“Thank you, I quite understand your point.” The emperor tried not to think about it. “Very well, see to it. And have the Prince of Xin, my younger brother, summoned to me immediately. I wish to speak with him.” The prince was in the city, was in fact staying in one of the guest palaces at the present moment.
“Very well.” The Grand Secretary hesitated. “Your majesty, about our tributaries and vassals-?”
“Out of the question,” interrupted Minister Zhou. “The power of the emperor will not be trivialized. Besides, what kind of support do you think they’d be able to offer? A few horsemen from the steppes? A boat from the king of Ryukyu?”
The emperor did not respond, but turned to Zheng Chenggong. Normally, when he met with his ministers, he’d do something to disconcert them a little, like inviting Master Jin to sit in on the meeting, but the Jesuit was performing the funerary rites for his deceased colleagues, so the emperor had improvised a little. True, he seemed to disconcert people just fine by himself (and he wondered at that, sometimes; people behaved so illogically, with so many minor social rules that did not make sense, and as far as he could tell, he was the only one who was being truly logical about things). It still helped to have someone else with him.
Zheng coughed. “Well,” he said, “this is a little embarrassing, but irrespective of the nature of my father’s relationship with the imperial throne and the exact political nature of the structural norms in-”
“This isn’t the metropolitan exam,” the emperor said. “Just answer this: how soon can your father, the Admiral, bring reinforcements from Dongshan against the rebels?”
“Um.” Zheng took a deep breath. “I don’t know, exactly. The foreigners are being extremely troublesome, and when I left I remember that he was preparing for a major battle. If you lend me your fastest ship, your majesty, I can return and tell him what’s going on. And then I’ll bring as much help as can be found.” He grimaced. “That is my promise, your majesty, but I’m afraid I don’t know how quickly this can be possible.”
There was some tension, among the ministers, when the emperor had turned to Zheng. The tension seemed to ease at his admission that the Admiral’s reinforcements might be delayed in their arrival. For a moment the emperor was very annoyed. The survival of the dynasty was paramount, no matter where they sought assistance! Well, that was court politics for you.
“That is fine,” he said. “You shall have your ship. Tell your father that unfortunately, this crisis is more urgent than any merchant adventures.” The emperor stood, signaling an end to the conversation, and everyone else scrambled to their feet. “We meet again this time tomorrow. Now, I am going to speak with my brother.”
