He stared at Hwa, then waved a hand at him. "Tell her I shall come in a while. I need a moment's thought."

Hwa bobbed his head. "Chieh Hsia! Shall I bring something to eat? Some soup, perhaps? Andsomething for the Empress?"

Tsu Ma was looking away, staring at the portrait of his father that hung over the fireplace. "That's kind, Master Hwa, but I have no appetite. Bring something for the Empress, however."

"Chieh Hsia."

Alone again, his thoughts returned to Li Yuan and his cast-off son. How could Li Yuan have done that? It made no sense. No sense at all. If he had wanted to deal with Fei Yen, he could have exiled her and married again. There had been no need to divorce her, not if her son was his.

Unless, that was, he'd wished to punish her. And what better way to punish a headstrong, ambitious woman like Fei Yen than by denying her son the right to be a T'ang?

The thought of it quite shocked him, for he had thought Li Yuan a less vindictive man. But who knew what passion-especially spurned passion-could do to a man?

He looked back up at his father's image. "What would you have done, Tsu Tiao?"

But the question, he knew, was idle. His father would never have got involved. His father would have cut off his own manhood before he would touch another man's wife. And as for that woman being the wife of a fellow T'ang . . .

"This is all my fault," he said quietly, bowing his head to the portrait, ashamed of himself. "And I must rectify it if I can."

Yes, he thought. But how? What in the gods' names can I do to make things up with him? His wife.

I stole his wife. It does not matter that her beauty blinded me. What matters is the fact that I betrayed him. Him . . . whom I counted as a brother.

He shuddered, afraid, suddenly deeply afraid, of what he had done.

So the wheel turns. So fate catches up with us.

But it was not too late. If he could only speak to him. If he could only humble himself before his cousin.

He lifted his head, speaking to the camera overhead.

"Contact Li Yuan at Tongjiang. Tell him I wish to speak to him. I shall take the call in my study."

While his servants set up the link, he paced the corridor, trying to work out what he would say-rehearsing phrases, trying to find some formula of words that would explain why he had acted as he had.

I love you, Li Yuan. Can't you see that? As I loved my elder brother Chang. Just as you loved Han Ch'in. It was their deaths that brought us so close. Beside which, this is nothing.

He sighed, then pushed through the doors into his study. If only that were true. If only it were in the past.

But he had seen Li Yuan's face and had known at once that the hurt he'd felt had never gone away- that deep inside the wound was still bleeding.

Tsu Ma went to his desk and sat, waiting, his fingers laced before him, his whole body trembling with a fearful anticipation. He had thought himself fearless, had thought himself beholden to no man; but 1 now he knew. Li Yuan. He needed Li Yuan. As a friend. As a brother and an intimate. Without him . . . Well, he could not bear the thought of it. To be severed from Li Yuan after all they had gone through together.It could not be. It simply could not be.

A minute passed and another. Then, with a suddenness that made him jump, there was a knock.

"Enter," he said, feeling his heart thump heavily in his chest.

His Secretary, Tu Fu-wei, took a step into the room, then bowed low.

"What is it, Tu?"

"It is Li Yuan, Chieh Hsia, he refuses to speak to you. He . . ." The young man looked bewildered. "It seems he has given orders for the borders to be closed between the Cities."

Tsu Ma stared at his servant, stunned by the news. The last time Li Yuan had closed the borders had been when he had had the plague in his City and had closed the gates to City Africa. Within months there had been war.

He sat back, robbed of words, then shook his head.

"Chieh Hsia?"

There was a blankness in his head. He could not think. For once he did not know what to do.

Tu Fu-wei came closer, looking at his Master with alarm now. "Chieh Hsia? Are you all right? Should I send for Surgeon T'ung?"

Tsu Ma shivered, then looked back at his Secretary. "No, I ..." He shook his head, waving the man away, then stood, needing for the briefest moment to support himself against the desk.

The borders. Li Yuan had closed the borders. . . .

He crossed the room and went out, heading for his new bride's quarters. He had to see her. It was his duty to see her. Yet all of the joy, all of that wonderful lustful anticipation he had been feeling earlier, had gone from him now, leaving him an empty husk. And all the while his thoughts circled the same point.

He'll come around. He's angry now, but things will change. He needs to sleep on it, that's all. Right now he wants revenge. Rightly so. But in a day or two . . .

No, he thought, stopping outside Shu-sun's door. For there are some things that can never be forgiven. Some actions which can never be atoned for. Not in ten thousand years.

Then, steeling himself against his new bride's disappointment, he knocked on the door and pushed it open, the rich scent of her perfume greeting him as he stepped into the darkness.

"Hwa Kwei?"

The voice from the shadows was only a whisper, nonetheless Tsu Ma's Master of the Inner Chambers stopped dead, giving a small cry of surprise. He had thought he was alone and unobserved.

Stepping from the shadows, Prince Kung-chih took him by the arm and drew him aside, into one of the small reception rooms.

Closing the door quietly behind him, the young prince turned, look- ing at the tray Hwa was carrying, at the cloth-covered bowl, then met his eyes again. "Have you . . . ?"Hwa shook his head, then answered the Prince quietly, terrified of being overheard. "I couldn't. Her door is locked. It seems the T'ang sleeps alone tonight."

"Alone?" Kung-chih's voice was loud with surprise. "On his wedding night?"

Hwa Kwei winced. "Please, Master . . ."

Kung-chih grinned. "That bodes well, neh, Master Hwa? But we must be sure, neh?" He reached down and removed the cloth from over the bowl, then sniffed at the soup. "You are sure this will work?"

Hwa Kwei nodded.

"Good. Then make sure you treat our Mistress the new Empress well, Master Hwa. Make sure she has her bedtime bowl of soup, particularly those nights my uncle does decide to visit her."

Hwa Kwei swallowed, then bowed his head. "I shall do as you ask, Prince Kung."

Kung-chih straightened, his demeanor changing, becoming more threatening. "Make sure you do, Hwa Kwei. Make very sure you do."

LI YUAN stood beside the carp pool, looking down into its depths, watching the fish drift slowly, dark within the dark, circling like the thoughts within his skull.

It shall be war, he thought, the last shred of doubt gone from him. I shall recall the armies from Africa and crush the monster in the depths of my City.

That was the easy part. As for the rest . . .

The day, now it was done, seemed like a dream. The hurt he'd felt- the anguish and pain-now seemed unreal, like a nightmare he had woken from. Not that they were gone. No. They were still there, in the depths. It was just that he was blank now, emotionally inert.

An hour back, Pei K'ung had sent a girl, thinking it a kindness, but he had turned her away. Throwing on a cloak, he had come here, hoping to lose himself, knowing the silent spell this place wove over him.

He crouched, then put out a hand, stirring the water's surface.

Just fall forward, he thought. Just let go, Li Yuan, and it will all be. done with.

But he could not let go. In spite of everything some part of him refused to weaken; refused to take that final, irrevocable step. They could take it all from him-his brother, his father, his wives, yes, even the one man he truly trusted; the one man he had truly loved-and still he'd not succumb.

Tired as he was, he was not that tired. Hurt as he was, he was not that hurt.

Like a brother he had been. Like a brother . . .

He let his head droop, let a shuddering breath escape him, then slowly straightened up. His limbs felt leaden, his blood sluggish in his veins.

"Chieh Hsia?"

Nan Ho must have been standing there some while, his head bowed, his arms straight at his sides, like a shadow beside the door."What is it, Master Nan?"

Nan Ho stepped forward, his face suddenly half lit, his dark eyes concerned.

"Forgive me, Chieh Hsia. I did not mean to disturb you. I just wondered . . . well, if you were all right?"

Li Yuan smiled wearily. "It has been a long day, Master Nan. I am tired. Very tired."

Nan Ho bowed his head. "Of course, Chieh Hsia. I"-he hesitated, stepped back into the shadow, then came forward again-"I did not know, Chieh Hsia. I just wanted you to know that. There were rumors at the time-rumors we crushed in the bud, but . . . well, I did not believe them. Marshal Tolonen and I-".

Li Yuan raised a hand. At once Nan Ho fell silent. The T'ang's eyes were pained, his face muscles tensed. He looked down, composing himself, then looked back at his Chancellor, his face stern.

"I hear what you say, Master Nan, but there will be no further mention of that man within my hearing, nor within the walls of any palace or official building under my jurisdiction. From henceforth it must be as if he does not exist."

Nan Ho stared at him a moment, shocked by the coldness he saw in his Master's eyes, then bowed his head.

"It shall be so, Chieh Hsia."

"Good," Li Yuan said. "Then good night, Master Nan. May the gods look after us in the days ahead."

KARR woke in the small hours, his whole body beaded in sweat, shaken by a dream in which Lehmann had stolen into their rooms and taken May, replacing her with a perfect changeling-an android copy.

Fearful, he had gone to May's room and knelt beside her bed, touching her arm in the darkness to feel the warmth there, checking at her neck for a pulse.

She had stirred and he had sung to her, crooning softly until he was certain she had settled. Only then did he go back.

Marie spoke to him from the darkness, her voice heavy with sleep. "Gregor?"

"It's all right," he said, climbing in beside her. "I heard a noise. From May's room. I was just checking she was okay."

She murmured some vague noise of understanding, then cuddled close, placing her head on his chest, asleep in an instant. Normally it would have been enough to soothe him, to calm his fears, but this once he could not get to sleep again. He lay there, tense, remembering the dream, disturbed by it-seeing again and again his daughter turn and laugh at him, her mouth a dark hole within which he could see the full moon burning.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

To the Edge.

THE TOWER dominated the valley. Inside, heavy wooden blinds had been pulled down over the massive windows at either end of the Upper Hall, leaving it in heavy shadow-a brooding darkness thata shaft of light from a skylight breached, picking out a tiny figure in bloodred silks, standing on the stone flags beside a fountain.

Fu Chiang, "the Priest," Big Boss of the Red Flower Triad of North Africa, stood at the center of the Hall, looking up through the skylight at the faint circle of the moon in the early morning sky. Behind him the light glittered off the flowing water of the fountain, making the green-bronze flanks of the running horse shimmer.

He loved this hour when the air was so clear and cool and the fortress silent. Walking to the door he pushed aside the blue silk curtain and went out onto the balcony, stepping from shadow into sunlight.

Dismissing the two guards, he went to the parapet and looked out across the valley. From this vantage point all was below him. To his right three peaks soared into the cloudless sky, their very stillness making him think of eternity. Dark green pines clothed their flanks, hiding the gun emplacements he knew were there. To his left the land fell away more steeply, the stark geometric shapes of the lower garrison bunkers jutting from the smooth face of the rock. Far below a river wound its way into the distance, like a black snake coiled in the grass. Somewhere in the middle ground lay two small villages. Beyond them the dark massed shapes of the Atlas Mountains-rose once more, stretching to the horizon.

Fu Chiang looked up, taking a deep breath, and stared into the perfect blue of the sky. More and more he found himself drawn to this place. More and more he left the day-to-day running of the brotherhood to his lieutenants; to his Red Pole, Hu Lin, and his White Paper Fan, Tan Sui.

This had once been a summer retreat for Wang Sau-leyan. It was rumored he had even brought his woman here-the hsueh pcd. But that had been some while back now. Fu Chiang had taken it over two years ago, after Wang's death, paying off the local Warlord, Yen Fu.

For now, he thought. For the day will come when Yen Fu will pay me.

Yes, but Yen Fu was not a problem. An irritation, maybe, but not a problem.

Li Min ... Li Min was the problem.

He turned, looking to the north, the stone face of the tower climbing into the air to his left. This morning, not long after first light, a cruiser had come from that direction. On board had been Li Min's henchman, Visak.

Fu Chiang pulled at his beard thoughtfully. His Wu would be here shortly. He had summoned him as soon as he'd learned what Visak wanted, knowing that this was not a course to be entered on lightly. To give Visak shelter-to agree to what he wanted-would, if Li Min heard of it, surely make an enemy of the man. On the other hand, to send him back . . .

He sighed, suddenly impatient. Where was the man? Why hadn't he come? He turned and went back inside, hurrying across the Hall and throwing the door open.

"Guard!"

The man came quickly to his Master's summons and knelt at his feet.

"Find out what's happened to the Wu!"

"Master!"

The man bowed low, then hurried off, calling to others as he went.Fu Chiang stood there a moment, banging his clenched fist against the doorpost with frustration, then went back inside. It would not have been so bad had he been able to trust any of his fellow Mountain Lords, but who was to say which one of them would take advantage of the situation and inform Li Min?

Or was he worrying too much? Could Li Min really harm him?