“Ah, the statue.” Mai nodded. “Yes, I heard about your discovery. I have to say, the rumors of Sun-Tzu Liao’s return certainly fueled a great deal of local fervor. And inspired our troops. Soon, I imagine, word will even reach Chancellor Liao that his Illustrious Father, the Ascendant, favored us with a brief visit.”

Mai frowned. “But you lost it, you say? That might be …unfortunate.”

Realization was replaced by dawning horror as Carson Rieves ran through several possibilities in his own mind. Mai watched him shift rapidly from prosecutor to protector of the faith. He covered his earlier gaffe with a lightning strike in a new direction, turning on Ruskoff. “Then I should assume the militia destroyed our… archeological find? You promised a peaceful withdrawal once Hidic fled.”

Ruskoff braced up under the assault. “We have met every term thrust upon us,” he said, biting off every word. “If you have partisan troubles, you are welcome to them, Rieves.” He shrugged, smiled. “Maybe in a few months, the local population will help throw you off planet.”

Rieves smirked, but it was forced. “I doubt the people of Liao will much complain about the return of Confederation rule.” His gaze did not shift to the Maskirovka agent. It did not need to. “Whatever they give up, it will be a small price to pay for what they gain. The return of their heritage. Liao is Capellan once more.”

Another shrug. “If you say so.”

Seeing the two of them warming to an argument, Mai Uhn Wa drifted toward the still open door. Michael Yung-Te caught him by the elbow and pulled him aside.

“Are you mad?” the Mask agent whispered harshly. “You have rehidden the body of the Chancellor’s father, and you expect to get away with this?”

Mai spent a level gaze on his keeper. “You should speak with Sang-shao Rieves again. He will admit that the statue really is of no importance. In fact, it might be best for all that the visitation is left to rumor, not a report. Or would you like to tell Daoshen Liao that his father’s body was recovered, and lost again?”

The agent recoiled. “You ask me to involve myself—”

“I think you already know that you do not want to involve yourself. Not in this, Michael Yung-Te.” Mai let a spark of strength show in his dark, dark eyes. He was perfectly ready to answer for his decisions, and he would drag several of the ranking men and women on Liao down with him if he needed to.

Yung-Te’s expression was a mixture of anger and disgust. “What gives you this right?” he asked.

“I am a traitor,” Mai Uhn Wa said again. “And I serve the Confederation.” And then he quietly left the room.

Evan Kurst found himself once again outside Lianyungang, standing at the edge of the Cavalry River scarp. He stared out over the forest, which stretched for hundreds of kilometers on all points south and west. He had stood here the night Mai Uhn Wa had abandoned the Ijori Dè Guāng.

So much had changed. It was not night, and Evan waited for no DropShip to come. In the timber below, several ForestryMechs began clear-cutting from the cliff base. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear their diamond-edged saws and smell the wood smoke from a hidden slash burn.

Behind him growled heavy machinery and the beep-beep of back-stepping Construction machines.

And at the cliff edge, fifty meters off to his right, spotters worked carefully, checking the mounts and tackle that supported the engineers lowered halfway down the escarpment face. Soon another blast echoed out over the lower flatlands as natural crevices were widened and hollowed out into deep, stable caverns.

Footsteps behind him. Evan stepped back from the cliff edge, but did not turn as Jen Lynn Tang walked up to him with a noteputer listing the day’s plans and checklist.

Evan had to sign off on each team’s progress for the day with Mai Uhn Wa not yet back from Chang-an. He thumbed open the file and recorded the progress of the ForestryMechs and blasting teams and the earthmovers that were still working to level the grounds on top of the plateau for House Ijori’s planned stronghold. It looked like any construction site he’d ever seen. But in his mind’s eye he saw heavy, reinforced walls and a compound of simple buildings serving the House mansion.

Below the cliff would be BattleMech hangars and the motor pool. The business side of a Warrior House.

“It will be good.” Good to have a place to feel secure. The Conservatory would never be that again, not for any cadet of the last year. Maybe the Confederation could revitalize it again. Maybe not.

Jenna nodded. “I know.” It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken of it aloud, as if trying to convince himself.

She remained deferential and distant, still waiting for Evan to come back to her after their victory on the Suriwong Floods. Since being pried out of the cockpit of the broken Ti Ts’ang, however, Evan had maintained a careful attitude. Even the news of Jenna’s surviving the death of her unit hadn’t chipped much of his resolve free. They were brother and sister now as well as lovers. Warriors of House Ijori. He needed time to come to terms with the first before again considering the second. She knew this.

She was being kept fairly busy herself. Jen was currently working on recruitment and indoctrination for the resurrected Warrior House. Finding the right disciple-cadets and learning how to groom them into the next generation of warrior-philosophers would be a daunting task.

Mai Uhn Wa played each person to his or her strengths.

“Did you discover anyone today?” he asked.

Jenna smiled, glorious and proud. “You would not believe it. Two sixteen-year-old twins who had already been tagged by The Republic as problem children. Their problem, as it turned out, was fighting back against hazing for being too Capellan in their ways. Well, now they can bask in a little hero worship before coming here to live.”

Twins? Interesting. “And the younger brackets?” Evan opened up new files.

The age groups ranged to as young as eight. Eventually, such precocious children with the right qualifications would be invited to attend summer schools for philosophy. The best and brightest would be wedded to House Ijori at age twelve. And in only one decade Ijori would have a program that matched other Warrior Houses.

“A few,” Jenna said. “It’s harder, but we’ll be ready.” She paused. “Have you thought about this? What it will be like to divorce such young children from their families?”

He had. But not in the way she meant. Evan was one of those children, cast adrift into a surrogate life. These new children would have what he had never been given. A choice. “Only those who decide for themselves,” he promised her. “That is the only way it can work. Shiao Mai knows what he is doing.” As did Evan. Now.

“All right. Keep it between you for now. But Evan, let me in on one thing, will you?” An echo of ’copter blades rolled over the small plateau. “Why are we blasting tunnels into the cliff face?”

She sounded eager. Enthusiastic. And eventually, Mai Uhn Wa or Evan would let several of their key people in on House Ijori’s secret charge. But Jen Lynn Tang had waited too long to ask this day. The thunder of military rotors grew louder. Evan turned and found the Sprint VTOL, growing larger as it flew in from the northwest. “The Master returns,” he said simply. “We should go welcome him home.”

He hadn’t planned on it, but Evan reached out as he went by to snag her hand and pull Jenna along at his side. It seemed such a little gesture, but one he needed to make, for her as well as for him. After so long, Evan finally had found what The Republic had taken from him.

A family. A House.

A home.