He waved away a swarm of mosquitoes. “Several years ago, before the rebellion, Twet Nga Lu was bitten by a snake near the Salween. One of his brothers, who sometimes trades in Mae Lwin, knew that we were only several hours downstream. He brought the sick man to me, and I administered a poultice of local herbs that I had learned from a Mae Lwin medicine man. He was nearly unconscious when he arrived, and when he awoke, he saw my face and thought he had been captured. He grew so angry that his brother had to restrain him and explain that I had saved his life. Finally he calmed down. His eyes settled on the microscope, and he asked what it was. He didn’t believe me when I tried to describe it, so I took a sample of pond water I had been examining, placed it on the slide, and asked him to look. At first he had trouble with the microscope—opening the wrong eye and so forth—and looked ready to throw the instrument to the ground when the light, reflected from the sun through the canted mirror, met his eye, bringing images of the tiny little beasts familiar to any English schoolboy. The effect could not have been more profound. He staggered back to his bed, muttering that indeed I must have magical powers to summon monsters from pond water. What would happen, he exclaimed, if I decided to set them loose from the machine! He now seems to believe I have a form of magical vision that the Shan believe can be found only in amulets. Of course, I won’t protest, and since then he has returned to me several times, asking to see the microscope. He is very bright and is learning English quickly, as if he knows who his new enemy is. Although I still cannot trust him, he seems now to accept that I personally have no designs against Kengtawng. In August last year, he seemed increasingly distracted, and asked me if there was anything I could do to block the signing of a treaty with the Limbin Confederacy. Then he disappeared for three months. The next time I heard his name was in a Mandalay intelligence briefing on an attack on a fort near Inle Lake.”

“And then he attacked Mae Lwin,” said Edgar. “They told me this in Mandalay.”

There was a long pause. “No, no he didn’t attack Mae Lwin,” Carroll said slowly. “I was with Twet Nga Lu the day Mae Lwin was attacked. Mandalay doesn’t know this. The villagers say that the attack was by the Karenni, another tribe. I haven’t reported this because the army will certainly send troops, the last thing we need here. But it wasn’t Twet Nga Lu.” Carroll spoke more quickly now. “I have spoken to you in confidence, and now I need to ask your assistance. We will be in Mongpu soon. This is the first time in a long while that Twet Nga Lu has met the sawbwa of Mongnai. If they cannot settle their differences, they will not stop fighting until one of them is dead, and we will be forced to intercede with our armies. Of course, there are many in the War Office, bored by the peace since the annexation, who are anxious for war. If there is any chance of peace, they will destroy it. Until the treaty is signed, no one can know that I am here.”

“I have never heard you speak so candidly of the war.”

“I know. But there are reasons. The Limbin Confederacy thinks that I have orders from superiors within the British command. If they know I am alone, they won’t fear me. So, today, if anyone asks, you are Lieutenant-Colonel Daly, civil officer of the Northern Shan Column, stationed at Maymyo, representative of Mr. Hildebrand, Superintendent of the Shan States.”

“But the sawbwa of Mongnai has seen me play.”

“He already knows and has agreed to keep this a secret. It is the others whom I need to convince.”

“You didn’t tell me this when we left,” said Edgar. He felt an anger growing.

“You wouldn’t have come.”

“I am sorry, Doctor. I cannot do this.”

“Mr. Drake.”

“Doctor, I can’t do this. Mr. Hildebrand is—”

“Mr. Hildebrand will never know. You will need to do nothing, to say nothing.”

“But I can’t. It’s seditious. It’s—”

“Mr. Drake, I had hoped that after almost three months in Mae Lwin, you would understand, that you could help me. That you were not like the others.”

“Doctor, there is a difference between believing that a piano can help bring peace and signing treaties without orders, impersonating others, defying one’s queen. There are rules and laws…”

“Mr. Drake, your defiance began when you came to Mae Lwin against orders. You are now considered missing, perhaps already under suspicion.”

“Under suspicion! For what…”

“What do you think, now that you have disappeared for so long?”

“I do not need to participate in any charades. I am due to return to Mandalay anytime now.” He gripped the reins tightly.

“From here, Mr. Drake? You can’t turn back now. And I know as well as you that you do not want to return to Mandalay.”

Edgar shook his head angrily. “Is this why you called me to Mae Lwin?” It was dark now, and he stared into the Doctor’s face, illuminated by the dull glow of his cigar.

The end of the cheroot flickered light. “No, Mr. Drake, I brought you to tune a piano. But situations change. We are, after all, at war.”

“And I am walking into battle unarmed.”

“Unarmed? Hardly, Mr. Drake. You are with me. Don’t underestimate my importance.”

Edgar’s pony twitched her ears at the mosquitoes that buzzed around her head, the only sound. Her mane shivered.

There was a shout from the road ahead. A man rode up on horseback.

“Bo Naw, my good friend!” Carroll exclaimed.

The man bowed slightly from his mount. “Doctor Carroll, the princes are all here, with their armies. We are waiting only for you.”

Carroll looked to the piano tuner, who returned his stare. A faint smile ran across the Doctor’s lips. Edgar wrapped his fingers once again in the reins. His face was still.

Carroll took his helmet and fitted it over his head, fastening the strap over his chin like a soldier. He took his cigar from his mouth and flicked it into the air, where it traced a golden trajectory. He hissed.

For a moment Edgar waited alone. Then, sighing heavily, he took the cheroot from his mouth and threw it to the ground.

It was nearly dark as they galloped down a trail that passed between stone outcroppings. In the distance, Edgar could see the glow of torchlights. They rode through a rough barricade, past vague silhouettes of guards. Soon the trail rose, and they approached a fort, hidden in a dark grove of trees.

The fort was long, and low, surrounded on all sides by a stockade of sharpened bamboo. A group of elephants was tethered to the wall. Armed guards saluted the riders. They stopped at the entrance to the stockade, where a sentry emerged into the torchlight. He eyed the men suspiciously. Edgar stared into the fort. The path that led up to the building was lined with more men, and in the flickering light of torches he could see the glint of spears, cutlasses, rifles. “Who are they?” he whispered.

“Armies. Each sawbwa has brought his own troops.”

Beside them, Bo Naw spoke in Shan. The guard walked forward and took the reins of their ponies. The Englishmen dismounted, and entered the stockade.

As they stepped inside the ramparts, Edgar sensed a movement of bodies, and for a brief second he thought that it was a trap. But the men were not advancing. They were kowtowing, bowing before the Doctor like a wave, their backs glistening with sweat, weapons clanging.

The Doctor walked swiftly, and Edgar caught up with him by the door. As they ascended the steps of the fort, he looked behind him, at the vision of the backs of the warriors, the fierce stockade, and the forest beyond. Crickets screamed, and in his mind now echoed a single word. The man at the entrance had called Carroll not “Doctor,” or “Major,” but “Bo,” the Shan word that Edgar knew was reserved for warrior chiefs. Carroll took off his helmet and tucked it beneath his arm. They stepped inside.