"She's telling the truth, Batu," Ju-Hai said, looking straight into the man's horrified eyes. "Your wife and children died at her orders."

For several moments, the minister and the general stared at each other. Batu's lower lip quivered, and his brow twisted into a shroud of grief. His eyes became red and puffy, then glassed over with unshed tears.

"General," Ju-Hai asked, "why did you return to Tai Tung?"

The minister was hoping to help Batu refocus his thoughts. The general's only hope of escaping the same fate as his wife and children lay in performing his duty and proving his loyalty. The Minister of State did not imagine that Batu cared about living at the moment, but too much depended on the general to let him perish.

"Batu Min Ho," Ju-Hai repeated sternly, "your mission isn't finished yet. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and report!"

Suddenly Batu clenched his jaw and his eyes cleared. He looked away from Ju-Hai, then turned to the emperor. "Did you condone Ting's action?"

The emperor did not flinch. "You know the penalty for treason."

"Then you will find this most interesting," Batu said, reaching into his hauberk. Immediately his escorts leveled their chiang-chuns at him.

The general glared at the guards. "Do not mistake me for an assassin."

He withdrew his hand slowly. In it, he held a small ebony tube. It was the same tube that Ju-Hai had seen Ting Mei Wan holding on a dark, drizzly night many weeks past. It was the same tube for which Wu had died. Ju-Hai could not imagine how Batu had come to possess it, and he did not know what was inside. Yet, given Ting's frantic search over the past weeks, he was sure the tube's contents would condemn the beautiful mandarin to the death she deserved.

As if confirming Ju-Hai's suspicion, Ting grew pale and slumped in her chair.

Batu looked in the disheartened woman's direction and smiled grimly. He opened the tube and withdrew two sheets of paper, which he gave to the chamberlain. "These letters were meant for you, Divine One." Batu's voice was stiff and emotionless.

The chamberlain carried the letters to the emperor, who accepted them and began reading without a word. A few moments later, he looked up. "How did these come into your possession?"

"The barbarians sent them to me," Batu answered. "They took the letters off a body in Shou Kuan."

"Why would they give the letters to you?"

Batu glanced at Ju-Hai with a curiously apologetic expression, then said, "They want Ministers Kwan and Ju-Hai."

Ju-Hai felt as though someone had dropped a boulder on his chest. He knew without a doubt what the letters revealed. The barbarians could want him and Kwan for only one reason.

"Ridiculous!" Minister Kwan yelled.

"Perhaps, and perhaps not." The very calmness of Batu's voice seemed menacing. "In addition to identifying Minister Ting as a spy, the letters say that you were party to an attempt on Yamun Khahan's life. The barbarians claim that's why they started the war."

"I'd never do such a thing without your instruction!" Kwan shouted, looking to the emperor.

Batu turned back to the Divine One. "Those letters were sent as proof of the barbarian claim. I—" The general paused as the words caught in his throat, then continued. "I recognized Wu's signature, so I knew they were genuine."

"He's lying!" Kwan said. "He forged the letters!"

"Minister Kwan has a point," Ting added. "We have no way of confirming that the letters are genuine." Though she spoke in a calm voice and appeared relaxed, Ting's face was as pale as the fur on her shoulders. She glanced at Ju-Hai, her eyes carrying an unspoken suggestion.

The self-serving thing to do, Ju-Hai knew, was to join forces with Ting and Kwan. With three people calling Batu a liar, the emperor might take it on face value that the letters were forgeries. Even if the Divine One investigated further, the ploy would buy valuable time to maneuver. As unsavory as he found such a confederation, it was not something at which the minister balked. During his long career, he had made hundreds of unpleasant alliances and betrayed the trust of many friends on behalf of Shou Lung.

Ju-Hai realized that the eyes of the entire Mandarinate were fixed on him, anxiously awaiting his acknowledgement or denial of the assassination attempt. Still, the minister was not ready to make his decision. He had to consider one more point.

The minister turned to Batu. "General, if we don't make peace with the barbarians, who will win the war?"

Several people seemed confused by the change of subject, but Batu answered immediately. "I can't say," he said, fixing a vacant stare on the minister. Continuing in an empty voice, he added, "The Tuigan are trapped in Shou Kuan; but they outnumber us and stand a good chance of winning when they sally. Even if they don't attack, we may not be able to starve them out, for I've heard they'll eat their horses and even each other. What's worse is that while the enemy sleeps beneath the roofs of Shou Kuan, our men are exposed to chill weather and autumn rains. The risk of epidemic is high."

The answer was not the one Ju-Hai had hoped to hear. It meant that much more was at stake than his life or Batu's.

The Minister of State bowed to the emperor, but did not dare to look him in the eye. "I beg your forgiveness, Divine One," he said. "The letters are genuine. When I learned of Yamun Khahan's success in uniting the horse tribes, I offered my help to his treacherous stepmother. At my request, Kwan sent an assassin to aid her."

A stunned silence fell over the Hall of Supreme Harmony, but only for a moment. Ting Mei Wan sprang to her feet as if to flee, but the emperor was not taken by surprise. "Minister Ting!" he boomed, pointing a long-nailed finger at her. "At the moment, you face only one death. If you flee, I will see to it that you die a thousand times!"

Ting looked from the emperor to the guards behind Batu. They still had not moved, and Ju-Hai thought his former protege stood a chance of escaping if she acted quickly enough. Then her gaze fell on Batu. The general's face was warped into a hateful scowl and his bitter eyes were locked on Ting's. Without looking away, the Minister of State Security collapsed back into her chair.

"A wise decision," Ju-Hai said. "There is no place you could run that General Batu would not find you."

The Divine One motioned to the guards behind Batu, "Lock her in the First Spire of Ultimate Despair. Ministers Kwan and Ju-Hai are confined to the palace grounds until further notice. Do not let them out of your sight."

"You wouldn't think of sending us to the barbarians!" Kwan protested.

Rising to leave the hall, the emperor said, "That will be decided after Ting's execution."

Kwan started to follow the Son of Heaven. "Divine One, let us explain!"

Ju-Hai rose. "There's nothing to explain, you fool." He knew that the emperor could reach only one conclusion: two lives were a small price to pay for ending a costly war that had little prospect of victory.

The Minister of State turned to the guards assigned to him. "I'd like to spend the day in my garden."

* * * * *

The sword fell and there was a hollow pop. Ting's head, covered by a silk hood, dropped into the waiting basket. The kneeling corpse remained perched on the executioner's block, its hands bound behind its back.

In the pale morning light, everything seemed gray except Ting's cheosong. It was her favorite scarlet dress, the one with the golden dragon that entwined her body. Now, clinging to a headless corpse, it was the dragon that looked full and alive.

Batu had expected to feel something when Ting died: vindication, relief, perhaps elation. Instead, his emotions remained as colorless as the morning. He could not seem to accept that the traitorous mandarin had killed his entire family.