tender WILLOW and Sweet Rain were talking, laughing between them as they came into the room, but seeing Little Bee stretched out face down on her bed, they fell silent.
"What is it?" Sweet Rain asked, moving closer. "What happened?"
Mi Feng looked up, her eyes red, her cheeks wet with tears, and shook her head.
"What did he do?" Tender Willow asked, coming alongside her sister.
Mi Feng swallowed, then let her head fall again, a great sob racking her body.
The two girls sat on the bed, on either side of her, their arms about her, comforting her. But when Tender Willow leaned back, accidentally brushing against her buttocks, Mi Feng winced and gave a small moan.
The two girls exchanged looks, then nodded. Carefully, they lifted Mi Feng's robe, conscious of how she tensed.
"Kuan Yin . . ." Sweet Rain said softly, her voice pained. "What did he do this with?"
"A cane," came the whisper. "A bamboo cane."
Tender Willow stared at the cuts a moment longer, horrified, then she shuddered. "How dare he?" she said, outraged. "Who does he think he is? You are the T'ang's maid, not his. He cannot be allowed to act like this."
Mi Feng shook her head. A great shuddering sigh passed through her; then she spoke again, more calmly and clearly than before. "You are wrong, sister. He may do as he wishes. He is a Prince, after all. And what am I? Only a maid. A thing to be used or discarded. I learned that today, Tender Willow. 1 had it beaten into me. And the T'ang . . ." She laughed coldly, then swallowed, another shiver passing through her, ". . . the T'ang will do nothing."
Tender Willow met her eyes momentarily, then looked away, feeling sick. Maybe it was true. The T'ang would do nothing. But this was too much. The Prince had gone too far this time. Maid or not, thing or not, she would not allow this to happen to her sister.
"I have creams," she said gently, looking back, reaching out to touch and stroke her sister's brow, "ointments to soothe the cuts and help them heal. Lay still, Little Bee, and I'll bring them. And don't worry. Everything will be all right."
THE SERVANT BOWED low and backed away, his message delivered. Tsu Ma allowed himself the slightest smile, then turned, greeting the newcomer.
"You're late, Li Yuan!" he said sternly, loud enough for the others to hear, then let the hard lines of his face melt into a broad grin. He put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Was it hard to get up this morning?"
"No . . ." Li Yuan began innocently, then blushed deeply as he saw the verbal trap and heard the great gust of laughter from the rest of the men on the great broad balcony. He looked about and saw how each face—even his father's—was filled with a tolerant, good-natured humor. All but one. A young, moon-faced man stood alone by the ornamental rail, beyond the two small groups of men. He was staring back coldly at Li Yuan, as if irritated by his arrival. At first Li Yuan did not recognize him. Then he realized who it was and looked down, frowning. Wang Sau-leyan . . .
Tsu Ma squeezed his shoulder gently, then lowered his voice. "Anyway, Yuan, come. The second session is not due to start for another half hour. There's time for talk and refreshments before then."
He turned and drew Li Yuan out of the shadows into the warm, midafternoon sunlight, then began the formality of introducing him to the T'ang and those of their sons who were attending.
Li Yuan knew them all personally. All but the last.
"I'm surprised to find you here, Wang Sau-leyan," he said, as he lifted his head.
"Surprised?" Wang Sau-leyan's eyes looked out past Li Yuan's shoulder, an expression of disdain on his pale round face. "Five years ago, perhaps. But as things are . . ." He laughed, no warmth in the laughter. "Well, my brother is unwell. His nerves . . ."
He glanced briefly at Li Yuan, then seemed to dismiss him, turning to concentrate his attention on Tsu Ma.
"Have you sounded the other T'ang about my proposal, Tsu Ma?"
Tsu Ma smiled pleasantly, concealing whatever he had been thinking. "I have broached the matter."
"And?"
Tsu Ma laughed kindly. "Well, it's difficult, cousin. If you had given them more warning, if they had had just a little more time to consider all the possible ramifications of your suggestion . . ."
Wang Sau-leyan interrupted him curtly. "What you mean is, no, they won't debate it."
Tsu Ma gave the slightest suggestion of a shrug, the smile remaining on his lips. "It was felt that it might be—how should I say?—premature to press the matter without consideration. But if the T'ang's regent would like to prepare something for the next meeting."
Wang Sau-leyan leaned toward Tsu Ma angrily, the words hissing from him coldly. "Four months from now! That's far too long! Why not today? Why are they so afraid to listen to new ideas?"
Heads had turned, but Tsu Ma seemed perfectly unflustered. He smiled, his whole manner calm and polite. "I understand your impatience, Wang Sau—"
"Impatience? You insult me, Tsu Ma! For three hours I have listened patiently to the words of others. Have attended to their schemes. Yet now, when I beg my turn to speak, they deny me. Is that impatience?"
Li Yuan had seen the movements of the muscles in Tsu Ma's cheeks. Had known that, were he not a T'ang, Tsu Ma would have called the young Prince out and challenged him to a duel. Yet his control now in the face of such provocation was magnificent.
Tsu Ma smiled. "Forgive me, Wang Sau-leyan. My words were ill-chosen. Even so, it is neither the validity of your views nor the. . . novelty of your words that are at issue here. It is merely our way. All that we say here, all we decide upon, has a profound effect upon the lives of those we rule. It would not do to give less than the most serious consideration to such matters. Ill-considered change benefits no man."
"You would lecture me, Tsu Ma?"
"Not at all. I wish merely to explain the position of my fellow T'ang. These things are matters of long standing. It is how we transact our business."
"Then perhaps it ought to change."
Tsu Ma laughed. "Maybe so. Perhaps the Prince Regent would put the idea forward for the next Council to consider?"
Wang Sau-leyan lifted his chin slightly. "Perhaps . . ." He let his eyes rest momentarily on Li Yuan, then looked back at Tsu Ma, giving the slightest inclination of his head. "I thank you for your efforts, Tsu Ma. If my manner was terse, forgive me. That is my way. But do not mistake me. I too have the best interests of Chung Kuo at heart."
Li Yuan watched as Wang Sau-leyan crossed the room to greet the young T'ang of South America, Hou Tung-po, then turned back to Tsu Ma. "Well! What was his proposal?"
Tsu Ma smiled. "Not here," he said quietly. Then he drew Li Yuan aside, his smile suddenly broader, more natural.
"So . . . tell me, cousin. How is that beautiful bride of yours?"
HELMStadt armory was a massive hexagonal block of 300 levels, isolated from the stacks surrounding it by a space fifty ch'i in width. That two-li-deep chasm was spanned, at four separate levels, by three broad connecting bridges, each bridge ending at a huge double gate, closed against intruders. To each side a whole battery of weapons—state-of-the-art equipment controlled from the guard room within— covered these entry points to the complex.
Helmstadt was considered by its makers to be invulnerable: a fortress second only to the great nerve center of Bremen. But in less than thirty seconds, if everything went according to plan, three of its gates would be open, the approaches unguarded.
DeVore crouched among his men in a side corridor on the City side of the bridge, looking down at his handset, watching through the complex's own Security cameras as his man approached the gate. The man was a lieutenant in the Armory's backup forces, called in on emergency standby after half the Armory's regular garrison had been sent to help quell the riots in Braunschweig, thirty li away.