of my best pieces were sold to our Splendid Emperor. I joined this army to follow him wherever he chose to lead. I respond to your appeal."
"Good man!" said Kao. "Your allegiance will not go unrewarded."
"I ask no reward other than to serve my Emperor."
A farmer joined them. His face was lined and burned by the sun and wind until it was like parchment. He was aged and bent forward from long years in the field. His bare feet were large so that he could stand firmly on the fruitful earth. His hands were brown and gnarled, the knuckles knobbed, the finger tips blunted, the nails scratched and broken, but in spite of countless blemishes they were eloquent hands, fine strong hands that had drawn strength from the soil.
A half-drunken painter, inspired by the farmer's appearance, stepped forward. "Eventually all of us must swallow gold, therefore will I drink with the illustrious Ming Huang."
For hours Kao walked among the troops attended by his little band of faithful followers. Slowly, all too slowly, it increased in numbers, but at the same time the frenzy of the mob rose to a higher pitch.
At last, wearily, Kao Li-shih knew that the cause was lost. A handful of patriots could not pit their strength against a howling mob of over sixty thousand men who had become like unto beasts, lusting for blood, eager for the kill. If Kao and those who had reiterated their allegiance to the Emperor were to fall, there would be
no one to protect his Imperial person. And it was not
