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THE SIRENS HAD STOPPED. In the central garden the crowd milled restlessly, the murmur of their voices filling the space between the walls of the ancient palaces. From the top of the steps to the Northern Palace, Prince Kung-chih looked on, the dour expression he had worn all day replaced by a smile of ironic amusement.

All day he had had to play his uncle's creature, bowing and scraping, acting to his order, reading from his script, greeting his bride, but now— through no effort of his own—he had had the last laugh.

Until he died he would remember the look of anger on his uncle's face, the pure fire of exasperation—of denied expectation—in his eyes as they hustled him away and cleared the Hall, the ceremony unfinished, the woman not yet his bride.

And even though it had proved a false alarm, Kung-chih felt it was an omen—a sign that this marriage was ill fated.

You cheated me, he thought, thinking of that day beside the cliff. You led me to believe I was your heir, and then you cheated me. But I'll not relinquish it that easily. Oh, no. Not if you take a dozen wives.

Hearing voices behind him he turned, in time to see Colonel Yi and the three T'ang coming out from where they had been closeted these past few minutes. Yi Ching backed off a pace and bowed, then turned, letting them move past him.

Kung-chih straightened up, facing his uncle squarely as he came toward him.

"Nephew," Tsu Ma said, touching his arm gently, "I am afraid we must deal with this matter at once. If you would lead our guests into the Eastern Palace, I shall have Lao Kang arrange refreshments."

"And the ceremony, Uncle?"

Tsu Ma huffed, clearly upset, but his smile for his nephew was kind. "I am afraid the ceremony must be delayed until tomorrow, Kung-chih. It would be ... inauspicious to continue now, neh?"

"As you wish, Uncle," Kung-chih answered, bowing his head low, his face expressing grave disappointment, but inside he was exultant.

THE FOUR MEN stopped outside the cell, the camera swiveling automatically to cover them, its laser trackers beading all four of them.

"Are they here?" Tsu Ma asked, pulling at the knuckles of his left hand as if he wanted to strike someone.

Yi Ching hesitated, aware of Li Yuan's presence there beside his Master, then nodded. "The crew of the ship are elsewhere, Chkh Hsia, in separate cells. It seems they were acting under orders. However, as far as their Mistress is concerned—"

"Their Mistress?" Tsu Ma stared at his Colonel in disbelief. "You mean some damned woman did this? Aiya! I'll have the bitch quartered!"

Yi Ching bowed his head, but glanced uneasily at Li Yuan. "Forgive me, Chkh Hsia, but I think you might wish to see her alone."

"Nonsense, Colonel Yi. The insult was not to me alone. My cousins deserve an explanation, neh?"

"Of course, Chieh Hsia."

Yi turned, motioning to the guards, who took turns to tap their personal codes into the lock, then place their eyes against the retinal scanner.

The cell door hissed open.

Tsu Ma moved past his Colonel into the cell, then stopped dead, giving a gasp of surprise. On the bench seat facing him sat Fei Yen, her hands bound, a tracer-necklet glowing faintly about her neck. He turned, in time to see the flash of astonishment in Li Yuan's eyes as he, too, saw who it was.

"Fei Yen . . ." he said quietly, his voice incredulous. "What in the gods' names were you up to?"

She stared back at him with dumb insolence, then raised her hands, displaying the restraints.

"Unbind her!" Tsu Ma ordered, then turned to Wei Tseng-li. "Cousin, if you would leave this to us?"

Wei Tseng-li looked from one to the other, not understanding what was going on, then nodded. "As you wish, cousin. If you need me . . ."

"Of course," Tsu Ma said gently, giving him a troubled smile, then turned back, watching as a guard undipped Fei Yen's wrist restraints.

As the door slammed shut, he glanced at Li Yuan, then looked up at the overhead camera. "Surveillance off."

At once the red operating light vanished.

He turned, staring directly at Fei Yen, giving full vent to the anger he had been keeping in. "You/ What the fuck do you think you were up to, flying in without proper identification codes? Have you any idea what you've done? Aiya ... I'd like to know why I shouldn't just have you flogged and executed. You and your whole damned family!"

"I had to see you," she said quietly, her face hardened against his accusations. "Today. Before it was too late."

"Too late?" Tsu Ma laughed, exasperated. "Too late for what?"

"For my son ..."

"Your son? What has your son to do with this?"

"Because he's your son, too, Tsu Ma."

There was a long silence and then Tsu Ma laughed. But beside him Li Yuan was looking down, his lips pursed.

"No," Tsu Ma said finally, meeting her eyes, a cruel, unforgiving anger there. "I have no sons."

She looked back at him defiantly. "No, Tsu Ma? You can say that with absolute certainty?"

His chest rose and fell. For a moment it seemed he would say nothing, then, with a tiny glance at Li Yuan, he answered her. "I have no sons, Fei Yen."

"No?" She turned, pointing at Li Yuan. "Why don't you ask your cousin if that's true?"

Tsu Ma turned, looking at Li Yuan, his eyes pained, knowing that a sudden gulf had opened between them—one that, perhaps, might never be bridged—yet he spoke softly, as if to a brother.

"Is it true, Yuan? Is Han Ch'in my son?"

Li Yuan looked up, a profound sadness in his eyes. In an instant it had all come back to him: all of the hurt he'd felt, all of the bitterness and betrayal. But worse. For now he knew. Tsu Ma—his beloved Tsu Ma—had betrayed him.

He shuddered, then answered her, his voice toneless. "You are wrong, Fei Yen. It is as Tsu Ma says. He has no sons."

She stared back at him, disbelief in her eyes, then slowly shook her head, her eyes widening, understanding coming to her. "But . . . but you divorced me!"

He nodded. "I had to. Don't you understand? You were a weakness I could no longer tolerate. A cancer that was eating away at me. To be a T'ang and be subservient to you ... it could not be, Fei Yen. It simply could not be."

"Aiya . . ." There was pain in her face; pain at the realization of what had really happened. "Han Ch'in . . . he's yours, isn't he? Yours. And you knew it, didn't you? Knew it all along!"

Li Yuan shook his head. "No, Fei Yen. Han Ch'in is your son. Yours alone. You made your bed, now you must lie in it."

She stood, angry now and close to tears. "I shall do no such thing! My son"—she swallowed, then lifted her head proudly—"my son shall be a T'ang one day!"

He answered her scathingly, his eyes cold. "Your son is nothing, woman. Understand me? Nothing.'" He took a step toward her, his very calmness menacing. "It was always the way with you, wasn't it, Fei Yen? You could never be content. You always had to meddle. To spoil things and break them. Too much was never enough for you, you always had to have more. More and more and more, like a petulant child. But now"—he sighed and shook his head—"now it must end. You have finally overstepped the mark. You have left me with no option."

Tsu Ma reached out and touched his arm. "But, Li Yuan . . ."

Li Yuan turned, looking down at the hand that rested on his arm, his eyes burning with indignation. "Cousin . . . don't you think you've done enough?"

Tsu Ma drew back, bowing his head.

Li Yuan stared at him a moment longer, then turned back, facing his ex-wife.

"As for you, Fei Yen, you shall return to Hei Shui, but this time under guard. You are to speak to no one and see no one. All correspondence between you and the outside world will be strictly censored. And as for your son . . . Your son shall be kept elsewhere, as guarantee of your good behavior."