asked nothing more. She even remained good friends with her former husband whom she visited occasionally. Kuo Kuo drank deeply of life and enjoyed its full flavor. She was one of the few women of the Court who never found enjoyment in playing practical jokes on the Generalissimo. She considered him unattractive, and slightly repulsive. Though perhaps this was merely an attitude to please Kuo-chung. If that were the case it achieved its purpose.
Kuo-chung could not help feeling that the Tartar was insidious. Hungrily he snatched at every crumb of information he was able to glean from other Court officers. He also talked with wandering minstrels, necromancers and itinerant story-tellers who drifted to the outermost fringe of the Empire.
And it happened, that in time he heard about An Lu-shan's magnificent golden chariot, a chariot worthy of an Emperor, drawn by four black, full-blooded Arabian horses; and of the Imperial Dragon banner unfurled so brazenly. Yes, there could be no doubt. The Empire was threatened by a very grave danger, an internal enemy who was a welcome guest at the Imperial Palace.
One night when he had been drinking, he found sudden courage. He confided his suspicions to the Emperor as they sat in bamboo chairs on the Peony Terrace, and a lazy moon yawned in the clear blue sky.
"Your Majesty," he faltered, "I am disturbed by occurrences that may be striking at the very roots of
China. It is never a pleasant duty to kindle the fire of
