He laughed and let the laughter roll on for longer than its normal course. Again there was a moment's uncertainty in the young man's eyes. Tsu Ma let the laughter spill over into his voice.
"So you think you know me, boy?"
This time no words, only a curt, uncompromising nod. The knife was held steady beneath Shu-sun's chin, the sharp blade dark with others' blood. Shu-sun had closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Kung-chih's left arm was locked about her shoulder now, keeping her from falling.
Tsu Ma, watching, wondered what she was feeling; whether it was one part as dreadful as the fear he felt for her.
"What now, then?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.
They had come to an impasse. There was nothing he could offer. No deal could come of this. No compromise. He sighed heavily, suddenly weary, then, with an anger he had concealed until that moment, he yelled and threw himself forward.
Surprised, Kung-chih's instincts took over, and for one brief moment the knife moved outward in a wide arc, as if to meet the oncoming threat. Then it jerked back and Shu-sun fell forward, screaming.
Tsu Ma stopped, horrified, looking down at his fallen wife. Then his head jerked up. Kung-chih was on his knees. The knife had clattered to the floor. From the center of Kung-chih's chest a long steel spike protruded. Kung-chih coughed once, blood dribbling from between his lips, then fell onto his face.
Behind him, in the doorway, stood Tao Chu. His silks were drenched and his hair slicked back and wet. He looked down at his half-brother in surprise, a dreadful look of pain—of sheer loss—on his face, then looked across at Tsu Ma. Shu-sun was scrabbling forward, whimpering with fright. Tsu Ma met his nephew's eyes a moment, then bent down and held his wife to him, his big frame shivering uncontrollably as he comforted her.
After a moment he looked up at Tao Chu again. The boy was still standing there, looking down at the brother he had killed. Tears rolled down his cheeks, one after another, and, even as Tsu Ma watched, the boy knelt and kissed the dark head of his brother, one hand gently touching and stroking the yet warm neck, as if he merely slept.
NAN HO SAT at his desk, staring into space.
"Kuan Yin preserve us," he murmured.
"Master?"
He looked to his secretary, Hu Chang, and shook his head. "I said, Kuan Yin preserve us. This business ... it is an ill day's work. The Empress Pel K'ung is a good woman, and if she has needs . . . well, we all have needs, neh, Hu Chang?"
Hu Cnang lowered his head.
"I tried to talk sense into him," he continued, "but he would not listen. It is just as before. He is obsessed with her. Infatuated with the she-fox. She has cast her spell over him again and we must all suffer for it."
Hu Chang looked up. "Master?"
"Yes, Hu Chang?"
"Perhaps we should try to delay matters and let time cure our Lord of this—this strangeness."
Nan Ho turned to him. "Delay?"
"Yes, Master. If we could find some . . . distraction, perhaps, to keep him from pursuing the matter. Some—"
Nan Ho raised a hand. At once Hu Chang fell silent, bowing his head.
"He wants it done tonight. The divorce document is being drawn up even as we speak. Tsung Ye's confession . . . achh!" He heaved a great sigh of exasperation, then stood, his restlessness taking a physical form. "I should have ignored my conscience and had the woman killed while I could."
Hu Chang's eyes followed his Master, appalled by what he was hearing. Never had Nan Ho spoke of killing anyone. Always he had been a voice of reason. But this matter, it seemed, had stripped all rationality from him ... or revealed it?
Hu Chang swallowed, then spoke up. "To kill her. It would solve nothing, Master."
"No?" Nan Ho turned to him. "You do not know the woman, Hu Chang. Such deviousness . . ." Again he shook his head. "And this time she will not be so easy to dislodge. This time—"
The summons bell rang. Nan Ho stared at it, then grimaced.
"That will be him. Go to him, Hu Chang. Tell him that I am sick and have taken to my bed. Tell him—"
Nan Ho stopped, lowering his head, genuine pain there suddenly. "My boy ... my poor, poor boy. How could he do this to himself a second time? How can I bear to stand by and watch it happen?"
The bell rang again.
"You want me to go, Master?"
Nan Ho looked at him, then smiled sadly. "No, Hu Chang. It is my duty to attend. My duty to serve, whatever my Master asks of me. It is the way, neh? Wherever it leads."
Hu Chang bowed his head, relieved to see his Master returned to his former self.
Nan Ho came across, touching his arm gently, then went from the room, making his way toward Li Yuan's rooms, ready to serve his Master, whatever was asked of him.
"You summoned me, Chieh Hsia?"
Li Yuan looked up and waved Nan Ho across. "Have you heard, Master Nan?"
"Heard, Chieh Usia?"
Li Yuan handed him the single sheet of paper. "It arrived a moment back. Copies are being posted throughout our City even as we speak."
Nan Ho read it through, then looked up, his face blanched, his eyes bewildered. "But this says—"
"The Mandate is broken . . . that's what it says. The Pa shi yi have declared my government invalid. They have sanctioned open rebellion."
Nan Ho stared back at him. "Aiya ..." • • .
"Aiya indeed. Yet not unexpected, neh?"
"Unexpected?"
"We have known for some while now that the New Confucians were dissatisfied with things. And your meeting this morning . . . well, did you not sense this in the air, Master Nan?"
Nan Ho shook his head. It seemed he had foreseen few of these developments. "But what shall we do?"
"Do? Why, we have them all arrested. Arrested and executed."
Nan Ho swallowed. "But that would mean . . ."
"War? Possibly. But this . . ." He took the paper back from his Chancellor. "No, Master Nan. I cannot have this."
There was a knock. Li Yuan raised an eyebrow. "Enter!"
A messenger bowed his way into the room, then, kneeling, offered a sealed letter to the T'ang's secretary, who unfurled it, read it, then brought it across.
Li Yuan took it and read it, then turned in his seat, calling for the screen to be lowered.
"Watch," Li Yuan said, then, speaking to the air. "Show me the latest scenes from Weimar."
At once the screen showed a picture of the great House. Drawing back, it' focused on a group of men outside the entrance gate. Media remote^ hovered about their heads like bugs as one of them, recognizable as the Leader of the House, Representative Kavanagh, was speaking.
". . . yet such an unprecedented statement by the New Confucian hierarchy can only be read as a recognition by those within the T'ang's government—those who know him best, let it be said—that things have reached such a pass that only the most extreme action can remedy the situation. It is therefore with great reluctance, but with a sense of duty, that we have taken a vote on the issue and offer the full support of this House to the Pa shi yi. Further, we urge the citizens of City Europe to reject the rule of the despot Li Yuan and accept Li Min as Son of Heaven and the new T'ang."
There was a gasp from all those in the room. Nan Ho turned, expecting to find his own shock mirrored on his Master's face, but Li Yuan was smiling.
"Chieh Hsia?" he said, astonished that at this moment the T'ang should be amused. "Are you all right?"
"Never better, Master Nan." He stood then came around his desk, stopping before the image of House Leader Kavanagh.