had once been their buffoon, a warrior who had shared their caresses and extravagantly exhibited his powers as a lover. On the contrary, it was thrilling to contemplate his expected return. In the hearts of many he was an insatiable lover.
But when he ransacked the Palace and discovered that Yang Kuei-fei had elected to flee with the Emperor, his anger knew no bounds. In her private apartments, he found his sword, broken in half. The insult to his person was more than he could endure. Never had he been forced to suffer such unbounded humiliation. He knew that his troops were raping and pillaging and he did nothing to check the wild orgies. That day thousands of the Palace ladies were killed, and the stories of their tortures will never be known.
An Lu-shan cursed in his despair. He had caused the Emperor to flee for his life, he had captured both the Western and Eastern Capitals. In all of China there was none who was so powerful. Now he was known as the Emperor Hsung Wu of the Great Yen Dynasty. He had come a long way since he had been born a poor boy in the Ya-lao mountains. At his birth, a halo had been seen around the witch-house of his mother and the beasts of the field cried aloud. Authorities had been sent to have the mystery child put to death, but his mother had hidden him.
Bitterly, he thought of this now. Better had it been if he had been slain, for then he need never have arrived at this moment of chagrin and despair. Now he
was an Emperor. All his ambition had been for Yang
