Yes, he thought. Not directly, but the bastard could withdraw his support and fund his enemies, and that could shift the balance of power against him. Unless . . .

Unkss I make a deal-another deal-this time with Li Min's principal enemy.

He laughed. The very thought was outrageous. But why not? Why shouldn't he, a Mountain Lord, make deals with one of the Seven? After all, the times had changed. And if Visak was so important, then maybe Li Yuan would be willing to buy the man.

The more he thought of it, the more he liked the idea.

He turned, hearing voices and running footsteps, and nodded to himself. If the Wu confirmed it-if the signs were right-then he would act.

And if they weren't!

No. He was convinced of it. The oracle would bear it out. Visak . . . Visak was the key that would open many doors for him.

TSUNG YE edged to the side of the bed, then, carefully pulling the silken covers aside, slipped out, tiptoeing to the chair where he had left his clothes. Pei K'ung lay on her side on the far side of the bed, naked, her shoulder and the curve of her back visible from where he stood, dressing.

He had waited almost twenty minutes until he was sure she was asleep, knowing that if he woke her he would be there still an hour hence. The thought of it made him lower his eyes and groan inwardly. It was not that his Mistress was a bad lover. Far from it. He was surprised by how passionate, how enthusiastic, she was, how quickly she had learned the arts of pleasure. Nor did her age or lack of beauty put him off.

It was just that she was so ... well, insatiable. As if she was trying to make up for forty years of celibacy in a few brief days.

Tsung Ye sat, pulling on his boots, then stifled a yawn. She had kept him at it all night, that last time riding him like a demon, her face distorted so that, for the briefest moment, he had been afraid, thinking she had been taken over by the legendary fox lady. He shuddered, remembering it, then stood, pressing his feet down into the bottom of the soft kid boots she had bought him.

That, at least, was one good thing that had come of this. The presents she kept showering on him: new clothes, a golden timepiece, silks, jewelry, and cloth-bound books. Even so, the situation worried him.

One of these days they would be caught. He knew it for a certainty. And though she said her husband knew, how certain could he be of that? After all, it was not something he could check.

He sighed. Maybe she would tire of him. Maybe, once her passion for him had waned, she would take another to her bed. Until then he must be careful. Until then he must do as she said.

He tiptoed to the door and opened it, checking the corridor, then slipped outside. Pulling the door closed behind him, he hurried away, making for his bed and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

P EI K' u N G heard the door click shut, then turned and pulled herself up onto the cushions. Stretching,she yawned then smiled. The night had been wonderful, the best yet, but though she felt exhausted, she could not sleep. For a while she lay there in a fitful reverie, remembering what they had done, her hand straying down to touch her breasts, her sides, the soft-haired nest between her legs.

Yes, my little bird, she thought, a sigh of contentment escaping her, you were right to slip away when you did. Get some sleep. For tonight I shall have need of you again.

After a while she got up and went through to her bathroom. Squatting there over the bowl, washing herself, she felt a shiver run through her, imagining not Tsung Ye but her husband, watching her. For a moment she closed her eyes, letting the fantasy run its course, imagining him chancing upon her, there where she was, then coming across to throw her down upon the tiled floor and have her on the spot. The thought of it made her nerves tingle, the hair on her neck stand on end.

Awake, she thought. After all this time 1 am awake.

She dried herself, then went back through, not bothering to summon her maids, but searching the great carved wardrobes herself, looking for something that suited her mood. Something light and airy. She decided on a simple wrap of lavender and pink decorated with embroidered silk butterflies. Laying it on the bed, she went to her dressing table and sat.

"Send my maids," she said, addressing the House Computer.

They were there in an instant. Curtseying in the doorway, they came in, then stopped, hesitating as they saw her at the mirror, naked.

She smiled, seeing how they averted their eyes as they came across, then spoke to them, giving them their orders.

"Tiny Jade, I want you to put my hair up. You will do something fashionable with it, all right? As for you, Autumn Snow, you must use all your skills to make your Mistress presentable."

"Mistress!" the two maids said together, bowing and looking to each other with worried glances; glances Pei K'ung pretended not to see.

"And, girls," she said, the familiar authority of her voice tempered with a unexpected tenderness. "Do this properly and I shall reward you well."

NAN HO stopped outside the Empress's rooms, then, clearing his throat, knocked loudly on the outer door.

There was a faint exchange of voices from within and then the door eased back, a guard staring out at the Chancellor. Seeing who it was, the man bowed his head and stepped back, announcing him.

"Mistress, it is his Excellency, the Chancellor."

Pei K'ung was seated in her throne, the dignitaries of her household surrounding her, as if she'd been expecting him.

"Master Nan," she said, smiling. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Nan Ho knelt, bowing his head, then stood, returning her smile. "Forgive me, Mistress, but I have come from your husband. He wishes to see you at once."

She gave a nod, then turned, dismissing the dignitaries. As they went, Nan Ho frowned, noting theabsence of Tsung Ye, surprised not to see the ever-present young secretary at her side.

He bowed again, letting her pass, then fell in two paces behind her as they went out into the corridor.

"Is my husband better?"

"Better, Mistress?"

She stopped and turned, facing him. "Forgive me for being so blunt, Master Nan-I mean no disrespect by it-but let me have no more of this bullshit from you. You know what I mean. Yesterday we returned from Astrakhan at a moment's notice, snubbing our cousin's wedding. Today a decree is issued banning all mention of the man's name. It takes no great intelligence to figure that something happened between my husband and his cousin, does it?"

Nan Ho nodded, conceding the point.

"Moreover, it was noticeable how pale my husband seemed, returning from our cousin's palace. So I ask you again, Master Nan. Is my husband feeling any better?"

He laughed. "That is something I think you had best judge for yourself." He put his hand out. "If you would . "

She smiled, then turned, walking on at a pace, leaving him to half walk, half run to try and keep up with her. LI yuan was halfway through a meeting when she came into his study. Without breaking sentence he motioned toward a chair, his eyes following her as she made her way across and sat.

Flicking out her fan, she waved it before her face, hiding a yawn, then clicked it shut, studying the senior official who stood stoop-backed before her husband's desk.

At once she sensed something different. It was not just the tension in the room, though that, of itself, was quite remarkable; nor was it the crowd of advisors and retainers who were gathered in the room; it was something in the words her husband used-in their curt significance and in the underlying menace she sensed in them. Even before he dismissed the man and turned to her she knew. He had decided upon war.

"Chieh Hsia," she said, addressing him formally, anticipating him. "Might we talk alone?"

He stared at her a moment, then nodded and waved the rest away. When they had gone he stood and came around the desk to her.

"So, Pei K'ung, what is it?"

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes squarely, almost as an equal. "Yesterday . . . that business with your cousin. I know you do not wish to talk about it, but ..."

"But what?" There was a hardness in him suddenly that told her she had been right. "Speak, then be silent."

She bowed her head. "When I was researching in the imperial library, I came upon something. Something to do with your cousin."

"Go on," he said, a note of curiosity entering his voice."It was to do with your first wife, Fei Yen."

She looked up, expecting to find him glaring at her, but to her surprise he was looking away, a muscle in his cheek jumping. Then a tear dropped from the corner of his eye and rolled swiftly down his cheek and into the folds of his silks. She blinked, astonished.

"Husband, I ..."

He turned to face her, then sniffed deeply and wiped away a second tear that had formed but not fallen.

"You understand, then?"

She nodded, but at the core of her she was shocked. So it was true. It really was true. And because of it the two T'ang were not now speaking, and Li Yuan was preparing for war. She shivered and clicked open her fan again, moving it distractedly.

"I have had her put under house arrest," he said. "Her son is held separately. Without him she'll do no more mischief."

"Ah . . ." Again she felt a faint shock of surprise. "She tried to see you," she said quietly.

He stared at her.

"A few days ago," she said, putting the fan down and holding it stiffly in her lap, "I ... I saw her myself.

Sent her away. I"-she looked up at him again-"I thought it best. I did not realize-"

"No. . . ." He sighed. "You were not to blame, Pei K'ung. The woman"-he shook his head and grimaced-"the woman was always unstable. I was wrong to marry her. It was infatuation . . . childish infatuation. I see that now."

She nodded. But whereas only three days ago, she would not have understood, now she saw it clear.

When it came to love and sex the eyes were blind.

"Is it war?" she asked, changing the subject. "I mean, against Li Min?"

"Yes." Strangely, he offered her a smile. "I'm glad you know. I ... I was so lonely. So wrapped up in myself. But now . . . Well, now it's easier, neh?"

He stared at her a moment, as if seeing her for the first time, then frowned. "You're . . . different, Pei K'ung. Your hair. That dress. It ... it makes you seem much younger."

She bowed her head, a faint blush coming to her neck. "I ... I thought I would try to please you, husband.

I"-she looked up again, noting that his eyes were still upon her-"I thought I could, perhaps, come to you tonight. After you had retired. To talk and . . . well, to help you relax."

He opened his mouth, as if, for the briefest moment, he was going to say no, then, with a curt little movement, he nodded.

Pei K'ung sat there, her heart pounding, her mouth suddenly dry. Then, realizing that the audience was at an end, she stood and, bowing, backed away.

MAY STOOD IN the doorway to the shower, watching while her father washed himself down, her four-year-old eyes taking in his every movement. Glancing at her, he smiled self-consciously, then turned, facing the stone wall, whistling softly to himself."Papa?"

He stopped and turned back. "Yes, little plum blossom?"

"Those marks . . ." She pointed to the tattoos on his chest and arms, her tiny face creased up with curiosity.

"These?" He laughed, then, cutting the flow, stepped out and grabbed a towel. "I had these done when I was twelve. Long ago, that was. Long, long ago. And far away, come to that."

She stared at him, waiting. Shrugging, he toweled his loins dry, pulled on some shorts, then crouched down next to her.

"These," he said, indicating the dragon tattoos on his left arm, "are the red dragon of summer and the green dragon of spring. And this"- he smiled, seeing how her eyes widened at the sight of it-"is the great eagle, symbolizing strength."

She shivered, then reached out to touch and trace the design.

"But why is it so cruel?" she asked, pointing to the terror-stricken horse the eagle clutched in each of its steellike talons.

"Because strength is cruel, perhaps." He watched her, seeing how she studied the design, and felt a tightening of his stomach muscles at the thought of what lay ahead.

What kind of world will you grow up in? he wondered. A world of eagles and dragons? Or will it be a kinder, safer place?

The thought disturbed him. He reached out and picked her up, cuddling her, then carried her through into the kitchen where Marie was preparing the breakfast.

"You want a hand?" he asked, setting May down.

She turned from the stove and smiled. "Are you ill, Gregor?"

He laughed. "No. It's just that I'm not used to being waited on. In Africa I would eat with the men, help prepare the meals. But that's not what I meant. This"-he looked about him-"I wonder if all this will be the same . . . afterward."

There was a flicker of uncertainty in her face and then she smiled again, reassuring him. "We'll come through, Gregor. We always do. Besides, you've more than us two to think of now,"

Karr smiled, but the memory of what Lehmann had said lay underneath his joy. Death. Death lay beneath the surface wherever one looked. He went across and stood beside her, reaching past her to take the tiny statue from the shelf by the window. More and more these past few years people had reverted to such things.

"You should be careful," he said, holding it out to her. "It's still illegal."

She raised an eyebrow, then took it from him and set it back. "It's Si Ming."

"Ah . . ." He looked at it again, then nodded to himself. Si Ming was the God of Fate, bestower of life and death. It was he, they said, who determined how long a man's life should be. He shivered, then reached out to touch the tiny statue, as if to take some of its good luck."Gregor?"

He looked at her, then laughed. "It'll do no harm."

"I thought you made your own luck."

He nodded. It was what he'd always said. But in the days ahead a single man would be like a seed, blown by the great wind. In the days to come they would need all the luck they could get.

"I-" He stopped, hearing a knocking at the door, then moved past her. It had an urgent sound to it.

He threw the door open. A messenger stood there, dressed in the dark green and red of Li Yuan's personal staff. The young man handed him a sealed letter, then bowed and backed away.

Karr watched him go, then broke the seal and took the letter from the envelope.

"What is it?" Marie said from the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a cloth.

"New orders," he said, looking back at her. "I'm to go to Africa."

"To the Banners?"

He shook his head. "No. I am to meet a Mountain Lord named Fu Chiang. It seems Lehmann's man Visak has fled the nest. He wants to make a deal."

"Tell me your name?"