Karr grimaced, pained by what had happened. They'd be lucky if a quarter of their number got out. It had been a massacre. Then, seeing how one of his men had fallen on the far side of the shaft, he hurried across, helping the wounded man, half carrying him back, oblivious to the laser fire from above.

As he handed the man down, a runner pushed through.

"Sir!"

Karr glanced at him, annoyed to be bothered at this crucial moment. "What is it, man?"

"New orders, sir. From the General himself. He says you are to withdraw."

"Withdraw?" Karr laughed bitterly and looked past the messenger at his men. Their eyes, like his, were dark with knowledge of the betrayal. His voice, when he spoke, was heavy with irony. "Tell General Rheinhardt that his forces have anticipated his request."

The runner, noting Karr's mood and perhaps intimidated by the giant, took a step backward. "Further, he says you are to leave here at once and report to Tongjiang."

Karr turned, staring at the man, surprised. "Tongjiang? To the Palace, you mean?"

The man nodded. "The General says you are to go direct. The T'ang himself wishes to see you. He says it is a matter of the most extreme urgency."

Karr nodded. Then, recollecting himself, he waved the man away. "Tell the General I will come. Tell him . . . tell him I will come once my men are safe from here.""But, sir-"

Karr turned back, glaring at the man. "Just tell him!"

Then, turning away, he went back inside, to try to salvage what he could.

THE NEWS FROM TUNIS was good. The latest attack had been beaten off, the great T'ang's forces scattered. Fu Chiang, "the Priest," Big Boss of the Red Flower Triad of North Africa, folded the paper and smiled, then looked about him at the banquet chamber, his hazel eyes taking in the lavish silverware, the ornate red and gold decorations. Briefly he hesitated, as if about to criticize, then gave a terse nod. At the signal a dozen servants let out their breath and, bowing low to their Lord, backed hurriedly from the room.

Good, he thought, satisfied that all was finally ready, then turned away, drawing his dark red silks tighter about him. As little as a week ago he'd have considered such a meeting impossible, but curiosity was a powerful incentive-it had achieved what neither common sense nor coercion had previously managed.

His "cousins"-"Mountain Lords," Triad Bosses like himself-were waiting in the next room. He had known them in bad times, in those years when Wang Hsien had ruled City Africa with an iron glove, but now they were Great Men-men whose power had grown enormously this past decade, insectlike, feeding upon War and Change. Between them they controlled almost two thirds of City Africa's lowers.

He smiled, then went through.

They were standing before the dragon arch, the fight pit beyond them, its galleries climbing up out of sight. In an hour those balconies would be packed with his men, their bodies tense, their eyes wide with bloodlust. Right now, however, the pit was dark and empty like a hollowed skull, the galleries silent.

"Cousins," he said, greeting them. If one knew no better one might almost laugh at the sight of them. A giant and a dwarf, a fat man and a one-eyed hermaphrodite! Yet appearances were deceptive. Any one of them was as deadly as a hungry viper, and together . . .

"Are you sure he's coming?" the tiny, almost doll-like figure of Mo Nan-ling, "the Little Emperor," asked, his fingers toying with the thick gold chain about his neck.

Fu Chiang smiled benevolently. "He will be here anytime, Cousin Mo. I have tracked his craft over the mountains. He comes alone."

"Into the tiger's mouth," the big man at Mo Nan-ling's side said, cracking his knuckles. "The man must be a fool."

Fu Chiang stared at the giant, his face pensive. "So it seems, Yang Chih-wen. And yet that cannot be.

Our cousins in City Europe underestimated him, and where are they now? Dead, their kingdoms smashed, the sacred brotherhoods destroyed."

Yang Chih-wen shrugged. He was almost three ch'i in height and heavily muscled. "The Bear" they called him and the likeness to that ancient, extinct animal was uncanny, from the long, thick nose to the dark hair that sprouted from every pore.

"They were weak and careless," he said gruffly, as if that were all there was to say, but Hsueh Chi, Boss of the southern Hsien and half-brother of the great Warlord Hsueh Nan stepped forward, scratching his ample stomach.

"Forgive me, but I knew Fat Wong and he was neither weak nor careless. Caution was his byword. Andyet Li Min proved too cunning for him. He waited, building his strength, biding his time, then took Wong Yi-sun on when he least expected it-against the odds-and beat him. He and his fellow Bosses. So we might do well to listen to what our cousin Fu says. It seems to me that we must act together or not at all."

Yang Chih-wen laughed dismissively. "You talk as if he were a threat, Hsueh Chi, but what kind of danger does he really pose? Ambushing Fat Wong and his allies was one thing, but taking Africa . . ." He shook his great bearlike head. "Why, the full might of Li Yuan's armies cannot shake our grip. What then could this pai nan jen-this pale man-do?"

There was an air of challenge, of ridicule, in these final words that was aimed directly at Hsueh Chi.

Noting it, Fu Chiang hurriedly spoke up, trying to calm things down.

"Maybe my cousin Yang is right. Maybe there is no threat. But it would be foolish to repeat past mistakes, surely? Besides, we need decide nothing here today. We are here only to listen to the man, to find out what he has to say. And to judge for ourselves what kind of man this 'White Tang' really is."

While the talk had gone on, Sheng Min-chung had gone out onto the balcony. For a while he had stood there, his hands on the rail, looking down into the dark, steep-sided pit. Now he came back into the room.

"We will do as Fu Chiang says."

Yang opened his mouth as if to debate the matter further, but at a glance from Sheng he closed it again and nodded. Though they were all "equals" here, Sheng Min-chung was more equal than the rest.

The Big Boss of East Africa was a strange one. As a child he had been raised by an uncle-touched, some said-who had dressed him as a girl. The experience had hardened Sheng. Then, at thirteen, he had lost his right eye in a knife fight. Later, when he'd become Red Pole of the Iron Fists, he had paid to have his remaining eye enhanced, leaving the other vacant. Ever since it was said that his single good eye saw far more clearly-and farther-than the two eyes of a dozen other men.

One-Eye Sheng moved between them, his long silks swishing across the marble floor, then turned, facing them.

"And ch'un tzu , . . let us show our friend Li Min the utmost courtesy. What a man was bom, that he cannot help, but what he becomes, through his own efforts"-his one eye glared at Yang Chi-wen-"that, I would say, demands our respect."

The bearlike Yang stared back at Sheng a moment, then nodded, and Fu Chiang, looking on, smiled broadly, moved by Sheng's words.

Respect. Yes, without respect a man was nothing. To gain and hold respect, that was worth more than gold. Whatever transpired today and in the days to come, much would depend on establishing a common trust-a solid bridge of mutual respect-between themselves and Li Min.

Fu Chiang smiled, pleased that he, of all of them, had been the one Li Min had chosen, for to him would be given the credit for this momentous event. He turned his head, looking about him, pride at his own achievements filling him. Ten years ago he had been nothing. Nothing. But now he was Head of the Red Flower, a Great Man with the power of life and death over others. Sheng Min-chung had spoken true. It was not what a man had been born, it was what he became.

Fu Chiang, "the Priest," Big Boss of the Red Flower Triad, puffed out his chest, then looked to his fellow Lords, gesturing for them to follow him through into the banquet hall."Ch'un tzu . . ."

ROCKET LAUNCHERS SWIVELED AUTOMATICALLY, tracking Lehmann's cruiser as it came in over the mountains, while from the cockpit's speakers came a constant drone of Mandarin.

"Impressive," Lehmann said tonelessly, looking past the pilot at Fu I's fortress. Beyond its sturdy walls and watchtowers the Atlas Mountains stretched into the misted distance, while beneath it a sheer cliff dropped four thousand ch'i into a wooded valley.

Visak, in the copilot's seat, took a brief peek at his Master's face, then turned back, swallowing nervously.

"You know what to do?" Lehmann asked.

Visak nodded. He was to do nothing, not even if they threatened Lehmann. He wanted to question that-to say, Are you sure?-but Lehmann had given his orders and they were not to be questioned or countermanded. Not for any reason.

The pilot leaned forward, flicked one of the switches on the panel in front of him, then nodded. "Hao pa .

. ." Okay. He looked up at Lehmann. "We've got clearance to land. You want to go in?"

Lehmann nodded, watching as the massive stone walls of the fortress passed beneath them. And all the while the rocket launchers tracked them. At any moment they could be shot from the sky.

He gets off on this! Visak thought, stealing another glance. He actually likes risking his life!

Slowly, very slowly, they moved out over the drop.

Visak took a long breath. If they shoot us now we'll fall five li. That was, if there was anything to fall.

The pad came into sight, farther down the ragged crest of the peak. Five sleek black cruisers sat there already. Between the oval pad and the fortress a transparent lift-chute climbed the sheer rock face.

Impressive's an understatement, Visak thought, certain now that they'd made a mistake.

If he got out of this alive, he would quit at the earliest opportunity. Get his face changed and leave Europe on the first flight out. Away, far away from this madman and his insane, life-endangering risks.

He flexed his hands, realizing he had been clenching them, then looked up again. Lehmann was watching him.

"You okay?"

He nodded. Through the screen of the cockpit the rock face came closer and yet closer. For a moment the whine of the engines rose, drowning the chatter of the speakers, and then, with the faintest shudder, the craft set down.

The engines whined down through several octaves, then fell silent. A moment later there was a sharp click and the door hissed open.

"Okay," Lehmann said, patting his shoulder. "Let's do business."

IT WAS A SMALL COURTYARD, no more than five ch'i to a side, set off from the rest of the palace and reached through a moon door set into a plain white wall. Shadow halved the sunlit space, its edgeserrated, following the form of the ancient, steep-tiled roof. In one corner, in a simple rounded pot with lion's feet, was a tiny tree, its branches twisted like limbs in agony, its tight leaf-clusters separate, distinct from one another so that each narrow, wormlike branch stood out, stretched and melted, black like iron against the background whiteness. In the center of the courtyard was a tiny fountain, a shui shih, its twin, lion-headed jets still-two tiny mouths of silence.

Gregor Karr stood there in full Colonel's uniform, waiting for Li Yuan, conscious of the peacefulness, the harmony, of this tiny place at the heart of the ancient palace of Tongjiang. A leaf floated in the dark water of the fountain's circular pool like a silver arrowhead. Karr looked at it and smiled, strangely pleased by its presence. Sunlight fell across his shoulders and warmed the right side of his face. It was an oddly pleasant sensation, and though he had been often outside the City, he had never felt so at ease with only the sky above him.

He was looking up when Li Yuan stepped through the great circular space of the moon door and came into the courtyard. The T'ang smiled, seeing the direction of his Colonel's gaze, then lifted his own face to the sky.

"It is a beautiful day, neh, Colonel Karr?" Li Yuan laughed, his face momentarily open, unguarded; a side of him Karr had never seen. Then, more soberly. "However, we are not here to discuss the weather."

Karr waited, silent, not presuming upon that moment's openness, knowing his place. For a time Li Yuan did nothing, merely looked at him, as if weighing something in his mind. Then, abruptly, he put out his hand.

"Give me your badge."

Without hesitation Karr unbuttoned his tunic and took the badge of office from where it rested against his left breast, handing it to his T'ang. Then he stood there, at attention, his head lowered respectfully, awaiting orders.

Li Yuan looked down at the badge in his hand. It was more than a symbol of rank, it was a means of identification, an instrument of legal power and a compact storehouse of information, all in one. Without it Karr lost all status as a soldier, all privilege. In taking it from him Li Yuan had done what even his General could not do, for it was like stripping such a man of his life. He looked back at Karr and smiled, satisfied. The man had not even paused to question-he had acted at once upon his Lord's command.

That was good. That was what he wanted. He handed the badge back and watched as Karr buttoned up his tunic. Only then did he speak.

"Tomorrow I plan to appoint a new General. Tolonen would have had me have you, young as you are, inexperienced as you are. But that cannot be. However loyal, however right you might be for the task, I could not have you, for the post is as much a political appointment as a strategic one."

Karr kept his face expressionless and held his tongue, but between them, nonetheless, was the knowledge of Hans Ebert's betrayal, years before-of the political appointment that had gone badly wrong. Even so, Karr understood what his T'ang was saying. His Family was new to the Above and had no influence. And as General he would need much influence.

"I called you here today for two reasons. Firstly to let you know that, were it possible, I would have had you as my General. And one day, perhaps, I shall. But for now there are other things I wish you to do for me."

Li Yuan paused. "I took your badge from you. Did you think it some kind of test?"Karr hesitated, then nodded. "Afterward, Chieh Hsia. I-"

Li Yuan raised a hand. "No need to explain. I understand. But listen, it was more than a test. From this moment you are no longer commander of my Security forces in Africa."

This time Karr did frown. But still he held his tongue and, after a moment, bowed his head in a gesture of obedience.

Li Yuan smiled, pleased once more by Karr's reaction, then stepped closer, standing almost at the tall Hung Moo's shoulder, looking up into Karr's face, his dark olive eyes fierce, his mouth set.

"This is a new age, Gregor Karr. New things are happening-new circumstances which create new demands on a ruler. Even among those close to me there is, it seems, a new relationship."

The young T'ang smiled sourly and turned away. When he turned back his features were harder. He stood beside the miniature tree, the fingers of his left hand brushing the crown absently.

"You are to be given a new role. I need a new Ssu-li Hsiao-wei. Do you think you can do the job, Colonel Karr?"

"Chieh Hsia ..." Karr smiled, astonished. After General the post of Ssu-li Hsiao-wei-Colonel of Internal Security-was the most prestigious in the whole Security service. It meant he would be in charge of security at all the imperial palaces, in command of the elite palace guard and responsible for the personal safety of Li Yuan and all his family wherever they went. It was a massive responsibility-but also a huge honor.

He considered a moment, then bowed his head. Beside him, in the dark circle of the fountain, the leaf turned slowly, like a needle on a compass. Inside he felt excitement at the challenge: more excitement than he'd felt for years. Looking across at Li Yuan he saw how carefully the T'ang watched him and realized, with a sudden, almost overwhelming sense of warmth, what trust his Lord was placing in him.

On impulse he knelt, bowing low, offering his neck ritually to his Master.

"I would be honored, Chieh Hsia."

Li Yuan stepped forward, then placed his booted foot gently but firmly on Karr's bared neck.

"Good. Then you will report to me tomorrow at twelve. We shall discuss your duties then."

"So tell us, Li Min. Just why are you here?"

Lehmann looked up, then pushed his plate aside, surprised by the suddenness of the query. For two hours they had played a cautious game with him, avoiding anything direct, but now, it seemed, one of them at least-the "Bear," Yang Chih-wen-had tired of such subtleties.

He glanced at Fu Chiang, then met Yang's eyes.

"The two Americas have fallen. Likewise Australasia. Asia-both west and east-is a snake pit overseen by jackals. And Europe"-he picked a miniature fruit from the nearby bowl, chewed at it, then swallowed-"Europe is but a shadow of its former self. Which leaves Africa. . . ." He smiled coldly. "I am told that Africa is the world's treasure chest."

"And is that why you are here-to plunder that treasure?"Lehmann shifted his weight and turned so that he faced Yang Chih-wen full on. The man was big, it was true, but he had faced bigger men. Yes, and killed them too.

"Does that disturb you, Cousin Yang?"

Yang shrugged, as if unconcerned, but his eyes told a different story. "I'll lose no sleep over it."

"That's good. A man needs his sleep, neh? And what better tonic than to know that one's neighbor is also one's friend."

That brought a spate of glances-tiny, telling exchanges that confirmed what Lehmann had suspected.

For all their swagger, these men were deeply insecure. The collapse of their City and the war that had followed had given them their opportunity, yet their rule was still tenuous. They would fight him only if they must.

He lifted his hands. "Besides, when you talk of plunder you mistake me, cousins. I am not here to talk of plunder, I am here to talk of trade. Trade between equals."

"Equals?" It was Mo Nan-ling, the Little Emperor, who spoke. He wiped at his mouth delicately, then leaned toward Lehmann, his fine gold necklace tinkling as he did. "You talk of trade, Li Min, but your words presuppose that there is something we should wish to trade with you."

Lehmann sat back a little, gesturing for him to expand on that.

"What I mean is this, cousin. Africa is indeed a treasure chest and we Mountain Lords have had rich pickings these past few years. Our coffers are full, our foot soldiers happy. What could we possibly need that you might offer?"

Lehmann nodded, as if acceding the point, then turned and signaled to Visak, who came across at once, placing a hard-shell case in front of his master.

"Has that-?" Mo Nan-ling began, but Fu Chiang raised a hand and nodded. It had been scanned-four times in all-but still he had no clue as to what it held. He watched now, his curiosity naked in his eyes, as Lehmann flipped the latches, then turned the case about, opening the lid.