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.

"You honor us, Lord Kuo."

"Not really. I need you, so I'm here."

"Uhm?" Shih-ka'i considered his visitor. Almost feminine features. Smaller than the run of Tervola from the older lines. Attractive, but in a female sort of way. He reminded Shih-ka'i of the Demon Princess, Mist, whom he had encountered occasionally during her brief reign.

"You know what I represent. Change. New blood. A clean sweep of associations with Ko Feng's ill-starred ventures."

"Don't forget that Lord Feng's group brought us annexations of epic scale."

Kuo waved one of those delicate hands. "Nevertheless... There's Western Army. Twice defeated. Once under the Dragon Prince, again during the Pracchia gambit." In this empire, an empire unaccustomed to defeat, even an appearance of defeat was unpardonable.

"Ko Feng could have won at Palmisano. He withdrew rather than risk losses which might have damaged the stability of the legions. He was a methodical man. He would have anticipated the cost to himself. He withdrew anyway."

Kuo looked irritated. He took a moment to control himself. "We can't, of course, know what would have happened had he chosen to stand. Lord Ssu-ma, I didn't come here to argue. I don't want to exhume our yesterdays."