He had come with no intention of seeing her, thinking her at Hei Shui in the north, but she had come here with the man only hours before his craft had landed, and so his scheme of seeing the boy without her had come to nothing.
"Can I see him?"
She tensed, silent a moment, then answered him. "I would rather not, Chieh Hsia . . ."
It was said softly, deferentially, but with a firmness that said much about her feelings on the matter. It was as he'd expected. Despite her unchanged looks, the last two years had hardened her. This new exile wore at her worse than the last. For her it was a kind of death, and she blamed him for it.
He looked away. "I have a gift for him."
"Leave it, then. I'll see he gets it."
He noted the impoliteness and turned on her, suddenly angry. "You will bring him here at once. I wish to see the boy, and I shall." He drew a breath, then, more gently, "I'd like to see him, Fei Yen. To meet him."
She looked up, her eyes burning, their relative status momentarily forgotten. "Why? You have your son, Li Yuan. What's my child to you?"
He bit back the words that came to mind, turning from her sharply, his hands clenched with anger and frustration. Finally, he looked back at her, his chin raised commandingly. "Just bring him. Down there, beside the lake. I'll see him there."
"As my T'ang commands."
The words dripped with bitter irony. Turning from him, she ran back up the steps, her own anger evident in her every movement.
He watched her go, touched strangely by the familiarity of that anger, then went down and waited at the lake's edge, looking across at the ancient orchard. It was some while before the child came. He had been changed and groomed. A nurse brought him down the steps, then left him there, at the edge of the grassy slope that led down from the summer palace to the lake.
Li Yuan turned, facing the boy squarely, and raised a hand, summoning him. The child came slowly, but not hesitantly. Despite his age, he carried his head proudly and walked like a little prince. His fine dark hair was neatly cut and combed, and he wore fine silks of gray and blue and black. Two ch'i from Li Yuan, he stopped and bowed low, then looked up again, not certain what was required of him beyond this formality.
The boy's dark eyes were proud but curious. He met Li Yuan's gaze unflinchingly and when the T'ang smiled, his lips formed only the faintest echo of a smile, as if maintaining seriousness were the greatest art. A lesson he'd been taught.
"I am Li Yuan, Han. Your T'ang."
"Yes," the boy said clearly. "Mama said."
"You know it is your birthday soon?"
The boy nodded, then waited, moving slightly on his feet.
"Good. And did your mama tell you that I've a gift for you?"
Again he nodded; a strong, definite movement of his neat and perfect head. Seeing it, Li Yuan shivered and pressed his teeth together. This was harder than he'd thought. Simply to see the boy was painful. So perfectly named. So very much like his murdered brother.
He nodded to himself, then took a pouch from the inner pocket of his jacket. Tugging open the leather cord, he spilled the tiny object into his other palm, then knelt, indicating that Han should approach him.
The boy stood close. Li Yuan could feel his breath on his forehead as he took the warm and tiny hand and slipped the ring onto the second finger. Moving back, Li Yuan noted how the boy was staring at the ring, puzzled by it.
"What does it mean?" Han asked, looking directly, frighteningly into his eyes from only a hand's width away.
For a moment Li Yuan felt overwhelmed by the depth of the child's eyes, by his closeness, the warmth of the tiny hand that rested in his own. He wanted to hold the boy close and kiss him. Wanted, for one long, almost unbearable moment, to pick him up and carry him from that place. To take him back with him.
The moment passed. The boy stood there, watching him, awaiting his answer.
He sighed, staring at the ring. "It's a kind of promise, Han. A promise I made myself. Each year I shall bring you such a ring. Until, when you're a man, full grown, there will be one final ring to keep. One final token of that promise."
Looking up, he saw that the boy had made nothing of what he'd said. Li Yuan smiled and patted his head. "Never mind. One day I'll explain it better to you."
He let go of the tiny hand and stood, looking back across the lake. "It's strange," he said, talking as much to himself as to the child. "It reminds me of the orchard at Tongjiang. I used to play there as a child, with my brother, Han."
For the first time the boy looked up at him and smiled. "Han? Like me, you mean?"
Li Yuan looked down and nodded, letting his left hand rest gently on the crown of the boy's head, his fingers in the dark, fine hair. "Yes, Han. Like you. Very much like you."
THE TWO visiting T'ang were about to depart when Wang Sau-leyan's Chancellor, Hung Mien-lo, appeared at the doorway, the Captain of Chi Hsing's elite guard two paces behind him.
"What is it, Chancellor Hung?" Wang asked, turning to him.
"Forgive me, Chieh Hsia," Hung answered, lowering his head first to his own T'ang and then to the others, "but it seems there is some trouble with the great T'ang, Chi Hsing's, craft. The preflight checks have shown up faults in the computer backup systems. I am advised that it would be unwise for the great T'ang to attempt the return flight until such faults have been rectified."
Wang turned, looking back at Chi Hsing. "Well, cousin, what would you like to do? You are more than welcome to stay here until the repairs are made."
Chi Hsing stroked his neck with one hand, considering, then shook his head. "No, Sau-leyan. It would be pleasant, most pleasant indeed, but I must get back."
"Then why don't you use one of my craft?"
Chi Hsing smiled broadly, delighted by Wang's offer. "I would be most honored, cousin. But what about my own craft?"
Wang turned, looking past Hung Mien-lo at the Captain. "I shall have a team of my best technicians aid your crew, cousin. As for the security aspect, your man, here, might stay, perhaps, to oversee the work?"
Chi Hsing beamed. "Excellent! But you are certain you can spare a craft, Sau-leyan? I can always send for my second ship."
Wang reached out and took his arm. "And waste four hours? No, dear cousin. You are right. I have already kept you from your business far too long. You will be missing your sons, neh?"
Chi Hsing laughed and nodded. "Even one night away from them seems too long, sometimes."
"Then let us part. Come, cousins, I will see you to your craft . . ."
HE was saying his farewells to his onetime father-in-law, Yin Tsu, when Fei Yen burst in at the far side of the hangar.
"Li Yuan!" she called angrily. "What is the meaning of this?"
Yin Tsu turned, aghast, trying at one and the same time to apologize to his T'ang and remonstrate with his daughter, but she swept past him imperiously, standing at arm's length from Li Yuan, her hands on her hips, glaring up at him.
"Come now, Li Yuan! I demand an explanation!"
He laughed coldly, taken aback by her outburst. It was years since anyone had spoken to him like this.
"An explanation? For what?"
"For what7." She laughed scornfully. "Why, for the guards, Li Yuan! Am I to be a prisoner in my own father's house? Am I to be followed and hounded every second of the day?"
Li Yuan looked to Yin Tsu, then back at her. "I have already explained to your father why the guards are here, Yin Fei Yen," he said patiently, but she would have nothing of his reasonableness. She moved closer, almost shouting the words into his face.
"Have I not been humiliated enough, Li Yuan? Have you not made me suffer enough for my mistake? Must you continue to hound me and meddle in my affairs?"