Tetsuhara had been the Kuritan officer assigned to act as liaison with the Dragoons during their contract with the Draconis Combine. He had admired the Dragoons and learned much from them, enough that when he received orders to destroy the mercenaries with regiments he had raised on their model, Tetsuhara had nearly succeeded. Though caught in a conflict of giri,his duty to the Combine, and ninjo,his human feelings for his Dragoon friends, he had followed his orders like a good samurai. And, like a good samurai, he had committed seppukuto atone for his failure. Tetsuhara and Jaime Wolf had become close friends. That friendship was as much a part of the Dragoon/Kurita feud as the treacherous behavior of Warlord Samsonov, who had been Tetsuhara's superior. The hunt for Samsonov had connected Dechan to Michi Noketsuna, Tetsuhara's protege, and that friendship had brought him into House Kurita service.

How much did Takashi know?

It would be ironic if he and Jenette were to be denounced as spies now. Could Takashi believe that the deaths of two forgotten Dragoons would affect Jaime Wolf? Did he think he could use them as pawns in prosecuting his feud? What a laugh! The Dragoons didn't need Dechan and Jenette. They had given up their feud, had begun to treat it with the contempt they showed Waco's Rangers. A feud no longer exists when only one side takes it seriously. Dechan and Jenette had been abandoned, discarded as unimportant to Jaime Wolf's plans, just like his blood feud with House Kurita.

Now Dechan was on his way to a private meeting with the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, the lord of House Kurita, and he had been deliberately reminded of the supposed blood feud.

Did the Kuritan code also call for seppukuby forgotten and impotent spies?

Dechan straightened and tugged his uniform back to order—his Kuritan uniform, which he had worn longer than he had the garb of a Dragoon. So where did his loyalties lie now? He looked down the path, glimpsing a small portion of Unity Palace, the imperial palace, through the trees. That was where his future would be decided. There was no point in turning back.

Dechan drew nearer to the palace.

The guards kneeling on the veranda were in their ceremonial armor, wide-mouthed stunners cradled in their arms. Staring impassively ahead, they did not move at his approach. They might have been statues, save that he could see them breathing. As his foot touched the boards of the veranda, a shojipanel slid open behind the guards. A beautiful woman in traditional kimono and full make-up bowed to him. He returned the bow, and she led him into the hall.

The doorway to which she guided him opened into a room redolent with the scent of jasmine. Across the wide chamber, a man in a dragon-figured kimono sat on a low chair. His white-haired head was bowed over a sheet of rice paper, his face concealed. He held a brush in his right hand. Like the guards outside, he did not move as Dechan approached.

Two meters away, Dechan stopped, unsure. He had heard rumors that Takashi had more than once ordered the death of someone who failed to observe proper protocol. What was the proper protocol? Waiting was usually safe.

He waited.

The man suddenly moved, dipping his brush into the lacquered ink tray and brushing ink in strong, sharp strokes onto the paper. He gave a tight, affirmative nod and grunted to himself. Laying the brush down, he turned to face Dechan.

Takashi Kurita's face was as familiar to Dechan as it was to any citizen of the Combine. He knew the scars, the firm line of the jaw, and the penetrating gaze of the ice blue eyes. Unfamiliar were the age lines, but

Dechan could sense the vigor of Takashi's spirit. The man was still dangerous. The Coordinator inclined his head to his visitor, and Dechan bowed deeply in reply, then knelt.

"Ah, Tai-saFraser." The Coordinator's slight smile was lopsided, as if one side of his face refused to cooperate. "You honor an old man by your visit."

Dechan swallowed, made nervous by Takashi's self-effacing opening. "The Dragon is ever strong," he responded.

Takashi chuckled. "There is little need to be formal, Fraser -san. We are just two old warriors here. Feel free to speak as one old friend to another."

Dechan was immediately on guard. Though he was one of Theodore's shitenno,relations with the Kanrei had always been formal. For all his years in the Combine, he had never been on intimate terms with any member of the Kurita clan, least of all the Coordinator. But it would be an insult to contradict Takashi. "I am honored by your grace, Takashi -sama. "

The Coordinator's smile remained. Dechan had chosen the right course. They talked of the weather and Dechan praised the garden, traditional Kurita small talk. Dechan had almost relaxed when Takashi quietly asked, "How is your old friend Michi Noketsuna?"

Dechan stiffened, knowing that the Coordinator could not miss his reaction but unable to control it. Michi had sworn to kill Takashi for his part in forcing Tetsuhara to commit seppuku."I have not spoken with him in years, Coordinator -sama."

"Yet you are friends. Was he not responsible for your coming into the Dragon's service?"

"I made my own decision, Coordinator -sama." Did Dechan dare believe that the Coordinator didn't know about Michi's vow? Takashi's next words dashed that hope.

"Had you not agreed to aid him in his vendetta, you would not have made that decision."

Dechan searched the Coordinator's inscrutable expression. Was this an attempt to incriminate him? Should he lie? He decided against that. If the Coordinator knew of his history, he would know the lie. "That is correct."

"And do you still aid him in that vendetta?"

"I serve the Dragon."

Takashi's eyes narrowed. His voice was harsh as he said, "You serve my son."

"Your son serves you and the Combine both, Coordinator -sama."

"Which says nothing of you," Takashi said quickly. More calmly, he continued, "You have learned our Kuritan indirection reasonably well, Fraser -san. Do not think to delude me. Do you stand with Noketsuna?"

"He has forsaken my friendship."

"Have you forsaken his?" Takashi leaned forward as if avid for Dechan's answer.

Dechan felt a drop of sweat trickle clammily down his side. Frankness had to be the safest course here. But how could he give honest answers to the Coordinator when he was not sure he hadany answers? "If you mean, would I aid him in killing you, I think not."

"You are not sure? Where is your loyalty, Fraser -san?Where is your honor if you do not fulfill your oath to aid him?"

"I was young when I swore to help Michi achieve his goal. I am older now. Times have changed, needs have been superseded. A true samurai understands when he must subordinate his honor to a greater honor, and the threat of the Clans overpowers any one person's needs. Michi himself was willing to set aside his vengeance, back in the thirties, when your son Theodore persuaded him that the Combine needed the service of all her samurai. Then the threat was only the Federated Commonwealth, a mere inconvenience compared to the danger posed by the Clans. How could he think of disrupting the Combine now?"

Takashi leaned back in his chair. "Then he has abandoned his vendetta?"

"I believe so. He has not been seen in the Combine for almost two years. But, as I said, I have not communicated with him for much longer than that."

"Communicated? You draw a distinction." Takashi grunted. "When was the last time you spoke with him?"