Xeng,' the old noble said. 'Seeing you again gives me joy, but I regret that you now share our danger'
'There is nothing to regret, Tzu Hsuang,' responded Xeng, using his dusty sleeve to wipe a trickle of blood from his brow. 'When I left the summer palace, I knew your circumstances. It was my choice to join you.'
As the steward spoke, his knees began to wobble and he looked as if he might collapse.
'Perhaps you should sit,' Hsuang said, directing his son to one of the benches along the room's stark walls. After Xeng was seated, Hsuang asked, 'What are you doing here? Why aren't you watching over your mother and Wu?'
Xeng looked away. 'I failed,' he said. 'They're dead.'
Hsuang studied his son for a long moment, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. 'Who? Who's dead?'
'Everyone,' the steward replied, still unable to meet his father's gaze. 'Ting Mei Wan killed them all.'
The old lord backed away as if withdrawing from a leper's presence. 'What are you saying?'
'I couldn't save them,' Xeng said, his voice weak with grief.
Hsuang finally grasped what his son had come to tell him. His eyes grew vacant and glassy, as if his spirit had fled his body. 'Ji and Yo?' he asked hopefully.
'I have heard that your grandchildren did not suffer. Ting had that much mercy.'
Hsuang's knees buckled. He would have fallen had Cheng not caught him and helped him to the bench. Though the pained tzu found the strength to keep from crying out or sobbing, he could do nothing else but stare into empty space. Finally, the old noble asked, 'Why?'
Xeng turned to face his father. 'Before she was killed, Lady Wu asked me to deliver this to the emperor.' He withdrew an ebony tube from his robe and gave it to his father.
Hsuang took it, then removed two papers from inside. The first was Wu's letter to the emperor. It explained how she had come by the second paper, which was Ting Mei Wan's report to the 'Illustrious Emperor of All Peoples.'
When he finished reading, Hsuang looked up. In a quivering voice, he told the other nobles what the letters contained. After the murmur of astonishment died away, the old lord asked his son, 'Why did you bring these to Shou Kuan?' Though he did not intend it to, his voice held a note of reproach.
Xeng's lips dropped into a mortified frown. 'I didn't know what else to do. Minister Ting's soldiers had surrounded the emperor, and she was searching for me in every corner of the summer palace.'
'You could have hidden anywhere in Shou Lung!' Hsuang yelled, his grief finally overcoming his self-control. 'What good do you expect these letters to do here?'
At Hsuang's outburst, the other nobles uncomfortably shifted their glances to the wall and stood motionless.
Xeng looked at the floor. 'I failed you.'
The old noble regarded Xeng for many moments, sorry that he had taken his anguish out on his son. Finally, Hsuang rolled the papers and returned them to the tube.
'No,' the old noble said, grasping Xeng's shoulder. 'You haven't failed me, but you will return these letters to the summer palace. See that they reach the emperor. Ting Mei Wan must pay for her crimes.'
'He's wounded!' Tzu Cheng objected. 'He won't last a day!'
Hsuang looked at his son with demanding eyes. 'My steward is a strong man' he said.
'Tzu Hsuang,' Cheng said, daring to meet his commander's severe gaze, 'in your grief, you are asking too much of your servant. It is a wonder he reached us at all. That he could pass back through the enemy lines wounded is unthinkable.'
Xeng returned to his feet. 'I will try, if that is what my lord wishes.'
Hsuang gave the ebony tube to his son. 'That is what I wish,' he said. The old noble was not being callous or cruel. Hsuang could not bear the thought of his son being in Shou Kuan if the city happened to fall before Batu arrived.
'Unless you wish your servant to flee during battle, it may not be possible to fulfill your wish, Tzu Hsuang,' said one of the young nans. He was looking out the tower window.
'What do you mean?' Hsuang asked, stepping to the nan's side.
There was no need for the nan to answer. On top of the knoll, two thousand barbarians sat astride their horses. A stiff wind was carrying the smoke from the cooking fires directly over the city wall, partially obscuring Hsuang's view. However, he could see well enough to know that the horse-warriors wore armor and held bows in their hands.
Beyond the knoll, at a distance of three hundred yards, a dark band encircled the city. Hsuang had no doubt that he was looking at the rest of the barbarian army. As the lord studied the enemy, a short man carrying a white truce flag separated from the group on the hill.
The messenger spurred his horse forward, stopping within thirty yards of the bell tower. Though the rider wore a fine suit of barbarian armor, his features were slender, with smoothly rounded cheekbones. The messenger had shaven his head in the fashion of a monk, and he was thinly built. The man's appearance was clearly not that of a Tuigan, and Hsuang guessed he might be Khazari.
Without preamble, the rider called, 'The mighty khahan has grown weary of waiting for you to come out and do battle.' He spoke the Shou language with a Khazari accent. 'He sends me to accept your surrender, and offers a meal as proof that he will treat his prisoners kindly.'
Hsuang did not believe the envoy, and would not have considered surrender even if he had. The old noble had lost his daughter and grandchildren, but he had not lost his honor. He had promised to hold Shou Kuan until Batu arrived, and he would do it or die trying.
'Your khahan underestimates our number,' Hsuang yelled back. 'He cannot hope to feed all our armies with so little food.'
The rider smiled broadly and without sincerity. 'We have been hunting for many days,' he returned. 'More than two thousand dressed beasts await you in our camp.'
A murmur ran down the wall as the men repeated the rider's words. Even the nobles seemed to be discussing the idea of surrender.
Hsuang turned to his subordinates, completely ignoring the rider for the moment. 'He's lying. They're trying to trick us.'
'How do you know?' asked a young nan.
Hsuang pointed out the window. 'Do the barbarians look like they expect us to surrender? They'll attack the instant we leave the city.'
'Then we must fight,' another noble replied.
'We are not leaving Shou Kuan!' Hsuang snapped. 'That is my command!'
Many of the nobles met the tzu's gaze directly, indicating their disagreement with his decision.
'The emperor placed General Batu in command of our armies,' Hsuang said, looking at the nobles who dared to oppose him. 'Batu gave me command of your armies. To defy my word is to defy the emperor's. Are you prepared to do that?'
It was Cheng Han who replied. 'No one would dare defy you, Tzu Hsuang. Yet, our armies are too weak to last much longer. Soon, we will have no choice except to surrender or die of starvation. Perhaps it would be wise to consider fighting now, while the option is still viable.'
Hsuang felt irritated by the words. Although Cheng had questioned him before, the scarred noble had always yielded when Hsuang invoked his authority. Despite the man's careful politeness, it appeared Cheng intended to do no such thing this time.
'I will tell you when we will fight,' Hsuang responded through clenched teeth. 'We will fight when the provincial armies arrive to help us, or when the barbarians storm the city walls. Until then, I will not throw away our armies by sallying against five-to-one odds.'
'Staying in Shou Kuan to starve is the same as surrendering,' Cheng countered. 'If we sally, at least we will kill some barbarians.'
'There is no use discussing the matter further,' Hsuang declared. Though he normally would have handled Cheng with more tact, he was too upset by the news of Wu's death to deal patiently with the man's challenge.
Cheng, however, would not be put off. 'We wish to die honorably in battle. It is our right as noblemen.'
'It is your right to die when I tell you to,' Hsuang snapped, stepping over to stand face-to-face with the
