Shih-ka’i had drifted into a professional cul-de-sac. He knew it. Recent changes in the political climate, with younger Tervola ousting Ko Feng’s older circle, made his future appear all the more bleak. Though apolitical himself, he was among the oldest and most tradition-bound of the senior Tervola.

Lord Kuo had come. What could he want but to rid himself of another of the old guard? Already Ko Feng’s followers had been stripped of their army and corps and Council positions. They had been awarded unimportant postings in the moribund Eastern and Northern Armies. Ko Feng himself had been stripped of his immortality and honors. He had gone into a self-imposed exile rather than endure demotion. Had the purge acquired a life of its own, like a demon carelessly summoned? Had it begun to strike simply on the basis of age?

Shih-ka’i was frightened. And he was angry. He had survived the Princes Thaumaturge, Mist, O Shing, the Pracchia conspiracy, Ko Feng, and had given offense to none. He was a soldier of the empire. They had no right, no grievance. He ignored politics and power struggles.

The door responded to gently tapping knuckles. “Enter.”

Chu stepped in and reported. This time he was perfection itself. He had conquered the electric excitement Lord Kuo generated wherever he appeared.

“That’s better. Much better. Our first mission is to conquer ourselves, is it not? Lord Kuo, eh? What do you suppose he wants?”

“I don’t know, Lord. He didn’t say.”

“Uhm.” Shih-ka’i was not satisfied with the hand now guiding Shinsan’s destiny. From afar he perceived Kuo Wen-chin as too idealistic, naive, simplistic, and uninformed. Two years ago he had been a corps commander of Shih-ka’i’s own Middle Army. He was too young, too inexperienced. Still, he had momentum. He had charisma. He filled a need for new leadership, new ideals, given birth by the failure in the west. Maybe new perspectives could mend the wounds in the spirit of the legions.

“Shall I greet him, Lord Ssu-ma?” The Aspirant glowed with eagerness.

“Can you comport yourself with restraint and respect?”

“Yes, Lord.”

Shih-ka’i was disgusted by the pleading note in the youth’s voice. Nevertheless, “Go, then. Bring him directly to me.”

“Lord.” Chu whirled, and surged toward the door.

“K’wang-yin. If you embarrass me, you’ll do a whole year in primary.”

Chu froze. When he resumed moving his face was calm and his pace sedate. His frame stood rigidly erect.

Shih-ka’i permitted himself a small smile.

Lord Kuo Wen-chin waved a thin, almost feminine hand as he stepped into Shih-ka’i’s office. “Don’t rise, Lord Ssu-ma.” Kuo doffed his cruel silver-and-jet wolf’s mask. Perforce, Shih-ka’i accepted the informality and removed his own facepiece.

This was his favorite jibe at his brethren. It mimicked a boar in a killing rage. One tusk was of quartz, the other of ruby, as if to imply that one tusk had just ripped an enemy. The mask as a whole had a carefully crafted battle-scarred look.

Tervola invested a great deal of thought and Power in their badges of station. It was said that a skilled observer could read a whole soul from a well-made mask.