Chavadzy remained in the temple infirmary only long enough to become ambulatory. When Dayan and Damba returned a week after the shooting, he was ready to travel with them for his interview with the Phantom General.
They called on the Americans at Bart's compound before departing.
"First, we meet with the general and his staff somewhere in the mountains," the Russian told them. "Then, we cross secretly into Siberia where I can get word to the Tsar and can also make arrangements for the delivery of weapons at points of rendezvous. The Living Buddha sent a coded telegram for me from Urga the day we left there. It notified the Tsar to send the engineers and matériel to build the highway. There should be a lot of activity in the diplomatic channels by now. I suspect Washington may be involved as well, Lieutenant, because you are here. The Manchus will not like it, but because the new road is purported to be a donation from you, Madame, there is precious little they can do about it."
"My father has asked us to return before the last day in April," Dayan interjected. "It has something to do with you, Madame, but he is quite secretive about it."
As they left, Dayan looked tenderly at Romelle, but addressed his words to Brad. "Guard her carefully, Lieutenant. She is very precious to...us."
The Marine replied with a hint of irritation: "She is precious to all of us, sir. You go about your business, and leave Madame to me."
After Chavadzy and his party had gone, Brad muttered, "That man seems a bit forward for a priest where you're concerned, Romy."
"He only has my welfare at heart," she responded, looking away.
Bart glanced briefly at both of them, but held his tongue.
During the following weeks, Romelle and Brad accompanied her father on expeditions beyond the confines of Dragon's Heart. He was searching in earnest for the secret ingredient of the Magic Wine. They carried a yurt with them. Romelle learned to set it up while the men sought firewood and made the camp ready each night. Rebel never left Romelle's side.
These were days when they came to know each other well. Bart regaled them with tales of his years in Mongolia. Romelle related the intricacies of her life in Paris. Brad filled them in on his history.
"Mother lived in constant fear of Philo's finding us," he said to Romelle by the campfire one evening after Bart had retired. "She was convinced she'd killed you and Dora. She never had a moment's peace, but not because she was remorseful."
"Philo told me he sent out detectives year after year," Romelle informed him. "Irene must have been awfully clever."
"She gave a new name everywhere we went," Brad explained. "Finally, when her money ran low, we settled in the bluegrass country of Kentucky. Mother took work as a housekeeper on a large horse farm. The wealthy owners were seldom there. Their trainer was an elderly black man. He turned me into an expert on horseflesh. He died around the same time Mother's mind started to give way completely. She had to be sent to the state asylum at Lexington."
Tears glistened in his eyes.
"I joined the Marines under the name we had used in Kentucky for my school records. I handled horses at first, but my commander thought I could do better, and sent me off to become an officer. Once commissioned, I went back as his aide. He had been reassigned to Quantico, outside Washington, and then to the White House. He worked out a college program for me. I graduated, and became an intelligence officer. Teddy Roosevelt was in office. He was partial to me, so when my commander retired, the President requested me for his personal staff. Roosevelt secured the nomination of William Howard Taft and helped him get elected as his successor. I stayed on at the White House.
"Through those years, I visited Mother as often as I could. Then she fell ill with terminal cancer. After her death, I broke down and told the President my whole story. He was deeply affected and would have contacted Philo at once, but I begged him not to do so. He did, however, have the military records changed to reflect my true identity. Not long after, I read about your marriage to Philo. Then, I found you."
His gaze drifted from the fire to Romelle. His emotion flowed over her like a caress.
"I love you, Romy."
Romelle's heart went out to him. She touched his hand.
"I know. Your love has helped so much to heal me of grief for Philo. How happy I am to have my dear brother with me again."
He clasped her hand. "I want to be more than a brother to you, Romy. Is there any chance that might ever be? We aren't related, really. There is no reason we....."
Her fingers touched his lips. "Shhh...say no more. Let's leave things as they are...for now."
Once they returned to the valley from the final expedition, Bart took Romelle and Brad to his laboratory.
 "I have almost given up hope of finding any more of this," he said, pointing to a small jar containing tiny red flowerets and leaves. "Herein lies the fate of the Russian Empire. Each serving of the Magic Wine that Alexis drinks contains no more than a pinch of this substance, but it causes a chemical reaction with the remaining ingredients that not only clots his blood instantly, but also recirculates it so that his bruises disappear within minutes."
"I saw it work!" blurted Romelle. "It was unbelievable to see. It truly did seem like magic!"
"It does not heal him of hemophilia," Bart added, "but it corrects the damage the disease does to him."
Brad leaned closer to the jar.
"I know that plant!" he declared. "The leaves are usually green, and the type I know has purple flowers. We pastured our finest thoroughbreds in it before they were presented to prospective buyers. My black friend taught me that. It makes a horse smell sweet and fresh, in both body and breath. It's called purple lucerne, a sort of alfalfa."
"Medicago sativa," said Bart, "is a variety of the pulse family, also referred to as lucerne, and, yes, it's alfalfa. This is an Asian variety, but there is an enormous difference between this and all others of its kind. It is, significantly, as red as blood. What made it that way? I don't know, nor have I been able to isolate the magic component. Perhaps if I had a large quantity....."
Romelle touched a leaf reverently. "This is all there is, Father?"
"Yes," he answered softly. "This jar, nearly full, came into my hands from Dash's father. He had found it in the temple inventory of herbs, where it may have been hidden for hundreds of years. No one knew where it came from, or what purpose the plant served. He hoped it might one day prove useful to me. It sat on my shelf in the laboratory until Chavadzy asked me to create something to save the Tsarevich. I used it as a last resort, but, lo and behold, it worked! With this amount, I can manufacture a supply of Magic Wine which will last seven or eight months. After that....."
In silence they pondered the remnants of an ancient plant that could change the course of history in the modern world.
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