She stared at him, then gave a wail of anguish and sank to her knees, pressing her forehead to the floor, her voice distraught.
"Aiya! Please the gods, no, Li Yuan. Please leave Han Ch'in with me. I've nothing without him. Nothing!"
She looked up at him, tearful now, her eyes imploring him. "As you once loved me, please do this for me, Li Yuan. Let my son live with me at Hei Shui. I shall do anything . . . sign anything at all, but let him stay. Please the gods, let him stay!"
He stood there a moment, staring down at her, thinking of the hell she had put him through—of all the bitter blackness he had suffered because of her—and slowly shook his head.
"It is over, Fei Yen. It is finished now. You understand?"
Then, turning from her, he left the cell, Tsu Ma following him out, neither man looking at the other, the screams of the woman following them as they walked, silent, side by side, down the dimly lit corridor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Where the Path Divides
LI YUAN returned to Tongjiang at once, taking Pei K'ung and all his entourage with him. There, in the great study that had been his father's and his father's father's before him, he called together all his senior officials, summoning them from whatever duties they were attending to. By five they were all gathered and the Council of War began.
On the journey back he had spoken to no one, not even his Chancellor, Nan Ho, giving no explanation for his mood or actions. Nor, when he opened the great meeting of State, did he say a word about what had happened at Astrakhan, though all there, having heard of the alarm during the wedding ceremony, knew that something had transpired.
Watching him from the other side of the council table, Master Nan saw the new hardness in his Master's face and wondered what had passed between him and Tsu M*. He had seen him return from the meeting in the cells—had seen the coldness, the distance, between the two great friends—and known at once that something was wrong. Then, when Li Yuan had ordered them gone from there, he had known there had been a breach. Nothing else would have made Li Yuan miss his cousin's wedding celebrations. But what had caused it?
For hours Nan Ho listened as each man spoke, spelling out what stage their preparations were at, yet he knew for a fact that many there—surprised by the suddenness of the summons—were far from being as advanced as they claimed. Contingency plans had been drawn up months ago, after the New Year meeting of Ministers, but no one had seriously expected war. Not this year. But now things had changed.
When they were gone, Master Nan held back, waiting by the door. Normally Li Yuan would call him back to discuss what had been said, but now he just sat there, slumped forward in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, staring into space.
He closed the door then went across.
"Chieh Hsia?"
Li Yuan looked up, his eyes distracted, then sat up straighter.
"Master Nan, I guess you deserve an explanation."
Nan Ho waited, silent, head bowed.
"I ... I have done something that perhaps I should not have done. I have cast off a wife and denied a rightful son."
Nan Ho looked up, surprised. Li Yuan was looking past him, his face tensed against the strong emotions the words were evoking, but his eyes were misted.
"I acted wrongly, Master Nan. Yet, I, too, was wronged . . . both by my wife and by my most trusted friend."
Nan Ho felt a ripple of shock pass through him. So it was true.
"I didn't know," Li Yuan went on. "I didn't really want to know, I suppose. Until today." He paused a moment, as if steeling himself against what he was saying, then spoke again. "Today it was all made clear. Today I understood how it was—how it has been all this time."
"Chieh Hsia—"
"No, Master Nan, let me finish. I should have found out long ago. I should have made it my business to know what really happened. My father said I ought, but my pride was sorely hurt and besides, I ... I could just about bear it if I didn't know. Knowing . . . knowing exactly what happened . . . that would have broken me." "I understand."
He stared at his Master, seeing, for that brief moment, the vulnerable little boy he had once had to tend—the young man whom he had introduced into the ways of the flesh. Oh, if he had only known what love would do to his charge, he would have killed Fei Yen with his own hands long before she got her talons into him. He would have gladly sacrificed himself to prevent it. But now it was too late. Now they must learn to exist in the ruins of these relationships. He sighed, then uttered the words his Master did not wish to hear.
"You must make peace with him, Chieh Hsia. You must set aside your feelings as a man and act as a T'ang ... as an Emperor."
Li Yuan stared at him a moment, then shook his head. "It is too late for that, Master Nan. To be a T'ang . . . well, one must know where one stands, neh? One must know who one's friends are and who one's enemies. All I know, right now, is that Tsu Ma is no friend. And if not a friend, then I must count him henceforth as an enemy—as someone I cannot trust to come when I call. I must make my plans dependent upon my own strength and follow my own counsel from here on."
"But, Chieh Hsia—"
Li Yuan raised his hand imperiously, silencing his Chancellor.
"You are a good man, Master Nan, but do not oppose me in this. Be as a friend and aid me. For I have need of friends."
"Nu'ts'ai, Chieh Hsia," he said, sinking to his knees and touching his forehead to the ground. I am your slave, Majesty.
KARR CAME TO him an hour later.
"Chieh Hsia?"
"Colonel . . . please, relax a moment. Take a seat. We need to talk."
Karr hesitated, then sat, facing Li Yuan, his huge frame filling the tall-backed official's chair.
"Is there any news of the boy?"
"No, Chieh Hsia. I'm fairly certain now that it was one of our own elite teams."
"I see." Li Yuan sat back. "And Marshal Tolonen? How is he taking this?"
Karr sighed. "Badly, Chieh Hsia. He . . . Well, forgive me if this sounds impertinent, but I feel he is close to breaking point."
"Should I send one of my surgeons?"
"It would do no good, Chieh Hsia. His daughter tried to get him to rest, but he has refused all sedation. Indeed, I saw him take two Stayawake capsules. He is determined to see this through, whatever the personal cost."
Li Yuan nodded, his eyes pained. "Perhaps I should order him to rest."
"Maybe so, Chieh Hsia."
"And the other matter . . . your investigations into the household staff. How goes that?"
"Slowly, Chieh Hsia. It is difficult to know where to start. 1 have asked the six most senior members of the palace household to draw up lists of those they would trust implicitly and those they are less certain of."
"And what good will that do?"
"It is my intention to compare the lists and see where they differ— then go back and ask why. At the same time, Chieh Hsia, I have set up a team to monitor all contacts between Tongjiang and the outside world. If there is an information leak, we shall find it."
"Good. But one further thing before you go. You will have heard that I called a special meeting of my most senior ministers and advisors."
"Chieh Hsia?"
"To judge what was said in that meeting, we would be ready to fight a war at a moment's notice. The truth is very different. My own assessment is that we are weeks, possibly even months, from a state of readiness. Would that be your reading, too, Colonel Karr?"