You'd Never Killed Anyone. Then You Had.

Men Made Wagers With Their Judgment, Their Allegiances, Their Resources.

There Was Some Sadness In How That Could Happen, Tai Thought: Falling Out Of Love With Something That Had Shaped You. Or Even People Who Had? But If You Didn't Change At Least A Little, Where Were The Passages Of A Life? Didn't Learning, Changing, Sometimes Mean Letting Go Of What Had Once Been Seen As True?

She Was Owner And Captive, Both, Of A Bitterly Divided Heart.

A Hand Fought Best When It Made A Fist.

Some Writers Later, Describing The Events Of That Night And Day, Wrote That Wan'yen Of The Altai Had Seen A Spirit-dragon Of The River And Become Afraid. Writers Do That Sort Of Thing. They Like Dragons In Their Tales.