Free Jade Dragon Mountain by Elsa Hart

ill fates. I want to know what formalities to observe. I can bring Buddhist monks to say prayers for his easy journey to the next world, or Taoist monks, should their beliefs agree better with the foreign faith.”
    Brother Martin listened to Li Du, his continued agitation evident in his clutched hands. He said, “I—I am not of sufficient rank or education—that is, I do not have the authority to perform a service for the dead. It would be—” Brother Martin stopped, as if searching for an appropriate phrase. “It would not be correct.”
    Again Li Du relayed Brother Martin’s words. Tulishen, becoming exasperated, said, “Is he to be buried or burned to ashes? Should mourners be hired to scatter money for the afterlife on his grave? And if he is to be buried, how long should his coffin remain in the temple before the burial? I only need to know the most basic requirements. The Emperor will want assurances that our actions were proper, you understand.”
    Brother Martin’s eventual response was tense and quiet. “Our tradition is … is burial, not cremation.”
    â€œVery well,” said Tulishen. “We will summon Buddhist and Taoist priests. They will burn offerings to appease his ancestors and those of this house where he died. We will bury him quickly, if there is no need to keep him aboveground for any time. You may—”
    â€œWait,” Li Du said. He was surprised to hear his own voice, but he went on. “You should not perform those rituals. The Christians consider them blasphemous.”
    Tulishen raised his eyebrows. “Are you a convert?”
    â€œI am not a Christian. But I have read the book of instructions on how to become a Christian without disrespecting the ancestors. Father Ricci wrote that Christians cannot invite monks from other religions to their funerals, and cannot burn paper money for use in the afterlife. I do not know what Brother Pieter would have wanted, but Father Ricci is considered an authority.”
    Brother Martin raised his pale eyebrows at the sound of Ricci’s name. He broke in hastily. “You speak of Father Ricci? Of course, of course Father Ricci’s instructions are clear. But I have observed that many brothers of my order are so accustomed to Chinese rituals that they consider them acceptable. I thought Brother Pieter might wish to be buried according to local custom.” His voice shook slightly.
    Li Du translated, and Tulishen gave him the barest nod. “Then he will be buried at first light. I will have it done quietly. There is no need to draw the attention of those who would stare and gossip. He will have a small tomb with the Mu kings on Lion Hill there.” He indicated the dark silhouette of the hill rising at the back of the mansion. “In this part of the empire I can think of no greater sign of respect. We will not invite local priests.”
    Brother Martin turned to go, but Tulishen stopped him. “It would be appropriate,” he said, “for you to keep vigil here tonight, to cleanse the room. It is a dangerous time, dangerous for the man’s soul, and for this household. If you will stay and recite the prayers of your faith, it would reassure me.”
    Li Du watched Brother Martin search for a way to refuse the request. He failed, and with a wan face and stiff movements, moved to the doorway of Pieter’s room. He stepped inside. “I do not have my prayer book with me,” he said. “I will read from Brother Pieter’s Bible, if it is here.”
    The book was on the desk. Brother Martin sat down and opened it.
    â€œI will have fresh candles brought,” said Jia Huan.
    Tulishen nodded his approval. “Jia Huan,” he said, “go and prepare ink and seals for official correspondence. I will meet you in my offices. Li Du, I would speak with you.” Li Du followed Tulishen down the stairs into the courtyard. Together they