The Tower Of Fear

After a while, Muma returned to Azel's table.

"For me?"

"For you. A sparrow."

"Let's go find that beer." Muma grinned. A few teeth were absent. "You're not going to jump on it?"

"I'm going to relax and have something to drink and eat. The pot will simmer along as nicely without me to watch." "No doubt. You serve too many masters."

"I serve only one. Myself."

"Perhaps that one is too exacting."

"Maybe." Azel thought about a couple of weeks in the silence and solitude of the sinkhole country. Qushmarrah could simmer without benefit of his watchful eye. Surely. Maybe in another week or two. Times were too interesting right now.

"A wonderful change of pace tonight," Medjhah said, staring into his bowl in feigned despair. "Raw instead of charred." "Is it wiggling?" Nogah asked.

"Too ashamed."

"Are the worms playing tag through it?"

"They're embarrassed to show themselves in this glop."

"Eat up, then. You'll grow up big and strong and brave and fierce and smartlike our beloved ..."

Some glint of mirth in the eyes of those opposite him warned Nogah. He glancedover his shoulder. "Mo'atabar. We were just talking about you."

"I heard the fierce and smart part, which touches on the truth as heavily as amaiden's blush. Meantime, your beloved leader wants, to see you and the kid.

No hurry! No hurry! I'm nothing if not civilized and compassionate. I'd beworse than a Turok savage if I denied men the once-in-a-lifetime chance tofill themselves with delicacies such as these. Eat up, Nogah. Eat hearty.

Enjoy while you can. Shall I have the cooks bring you more? They probably havea taste or two left."

"No. No. Wonderful as it is, I'll have to restrain myself. Have to set anexample for the men. Gluttony is an unforgivable and disgusting vice."

Mo'atabar went away smiling.

Yoseh said, "Fa'tad."

"Yes."

His stomach knotted. "Again."

"I'm thinking about gouging your eyes out, baby brother."

"Maybe I'll do it myself. Why does he have to see me?"

No one answered, not even to crack wise. Medjhah began muttering about how thedamned ingrate Qushmarrahan charity-case cooks were trying to poison theirbenefactors.

They downed what they could stomach, Yoseh drawing it out. Nogah told him,

"Stalling won't help. You still got to go."

The compound was more crowded than it had been the night before. They edgedaround to one side and that took them past the cause of the increasedcrowding, the pen for the prisoners taken in the maze. "Look," Yoseh said.

"Some of them are just kids."

Four children huddled in a corner of the pen, terrified. Yoseh was not good atguessing veydeen ages but figured them for five or six. Two yards from themlay a dead man. His skin had the waxy look that characterized all theprisoners except the children.

The dead man had a black arrow sticking out of his side. Nogah said, "He musthave tried something on the kids."

Yoseh grunted. He looked at the rest of the captives and decided he did notwant to find out what kind of hell existed deep in the Shu maze.

Yahada admitted them without bothering to announce them, indicating an out-ofthe- way corner where they could squat. They did so. Yoseh was so awed he kepthis gaze fixed upon his hands. His knuckles were bone-white.

Fa'tad's commanders were all crowded into his quarters. They were not discussing the arrival of the civil governor, as Yoseh expected, but what hadbeen learned from several prisoners who had been interrogated already. Havingarrived at the end, Yoseh did not follow it except to understand that duringthe next few days, while the Herodians were preoccupied, Fa'tad meant to scourthe city hidden beneath the Shu.

Yoseh got no sense of why that was important to al-Akla- except that Fa'tadwas now angry because two men had been killed and seven injured during themorning's invasion.

Fa'tad growled something about getting those damned kids out of that pen, hewanted them alive so he could parade them around in search of their parents.

Somebody went to take care of it.

"Yoseh. Come here, youngster."

Shaking, Yoseh rose and approached Fa'tad.

"They tell me you saw your friend from the labyrinth again today."

"Yes sir. He was one of General Cado's bodyguards. The one who stood nearesthim on his right."

"I pay little attention to the decorative people. Why didn't you say somethingat the time, when he was there for all to see?"

"I tried. I was told to keep quiet in ranks. I'm new at this. I have to trustthe judgment of my elders. Silence seemed to be their highest priority."

Fa'tad grinned and snorted. Joab slapped his knee. Nogah looked like he wouldmelt from embarrassment. Al-Akla said, "He's inherited his father's tongue."

Several of the older men chuckled. "Well, young Yoseh. What do you think? Whywould Cado have his bodyguards stealing children?"

"I don't know, sir. The ferrenghi are strange."

"They are indeed. I don't know why, either. It makes no sense. No matter how Ilook at it I can see nothing in it to profit Cado. And no way to find out."

"Maybe it's something the man does on his own, sir."

"Maybe. The ferrenghi are a cruel and corrupt race. You may go. If you seethat man again, drop everything else and find out whatever you can. I'd surelylike to talk with him."

"Yes sir." Yoseh retreated hurriedly.

Nogah was right behind him. "What the hell did you have to go mouthing offlike that for?"

"Sometimes I just can't help myself."

"No one is going to hurt you," the Witch told the child, who could not stopcrying. She could not keep the exasperation out of her voice. "You drink thisand you'll go to sleep for a little while. That's all. When you wake up I'llask you some questions. After that you can go home."

The child's sobs did not slacken, but he looked up at her, wanting to believe, unable to do so.

Torgo extended one huge hand, offering the boy a cup. The child refused it.

"You'll have to force him, Torgo." Always, they had to be compelled. The eunuch did it.

The potion worked quickly. The child fought but soon drifted off. The Witch said, "I wish there was some other way to do this. Why do they fear so much?

We don't mistreat them, do we?" "We treat them better than they get treated at home, my lady. But they're too young to appreciate that."

"I don't need your sarcasm." "Ma'am?"

"I know you don't approve of the way I've been doing this, Torgo. Too gentle- hearted, you think." Torgo did not answer her.

"Come. Get him moved to the catalfique. And get the things ready. You're getting entirely too sloppy. Everything should have been ready before we started."

It was not as if Torgo did not have plenty of time. But he was growing lackadaisical, clearly becoming convinced that they were wasting their time.

The same little fear had begun to gnaw at her heart. Failure after failure, and never a positive to encourage them to go on ... Except the probabilitythat every failure meant that they were a step nearer success.

It was hard to see failure in a positive light.

All was prepared to her satisfaction when the child began to show signs of recovering. She said, "Time for you to go, Torgo." And as he started to leave,

"Has Azel been in today?"

"No, ma'am."

"He'll be back."

Torgo did not reply.

The Witch stepped inside the heavy green velvet tent that enclosed the child. She checked the charcoal to make sure it was burning properly, then begandrinking water she drew from a jar with a tin cup. She drank till her stomachached. She was going to be in that hot tent a long time.

This part was far harder on her than it was on the children. It would take her two days to recover.

She removed a lid covering a silver bowl, used a glistening silver spoon toshake a little of the bowl's contents onto the coals. A sour, bitter smoke puffed up. She leaned back, trying not to inhale too much too soon.

She had to walk the saber's edge now, going into the twilight on the edge of sleep, where the wakening child would be held by the fumes, but remaining sufficiently in control to be able to lead the boy where she wanted him to go., It did not always work. Occasionally she had to do it over. She hated that.

It got no easier with practice.

She spooned more herb, delicately, waiting for the buzzing in her head to reach the right pitch. When it did she began groping for the boy's name. That part was always tricky.

This time she could not remember. "Damn," she said softly, and began feeling through her clothing. This time she had remembered to write it down but then had not remembered to leave the scrap of paper where she could see it. She breathed shallowly, trying not to take in too much smoke.

Her fingers encountered the paper. She drew it out, frowned at it, wiped away the sweat that had begun to run into her eyes. Why couldn't she ever remember to wear a sweatband? She puzzled out the name.

"Histabel. Histabel, can you hear me?"

The boy did not respond.

"Histabel. If you hear me, answer me."

He made a sound.

"You must pay close attention to me, Histabel. This is very important. Say yes if you understand."

His "yes" was a sparrow's sigh.

"You are comfortable and relaxed and you feel very good now. Don't you, Histabel?"

"Yes."

"Good. That's good. I want you to feel comfortable and relaxed. Now I'm going to ask you some questions. Answer them the best you can. And I'm going to tell you some things. The things I tell you will all be true. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?" "Histabel."

"Who is your father?" "Who is your mother?" "How many brothers and sisters do you have?" "How old are they?" And so forth, the boy answering every time, the answers being unimportant to the Witch except in that they set his mind in an answering mode.

"What I tell you is true, Histabel. You are four years old. In fact, today isyour fourth birthday. Where are you?"

For a time the boy's mind resisted being loosened from its anchor in time.

They always did, though with children the shaking loose was easier than it waswith adults.

"It's your fourth birthday, Histabel. You're four years old today. Where areyou?"

"At my grandmother Darragh's."

"What are you doing at your grandmother's house?" Cautiously, she led himthrough the details of a birthday celebration. When they were coming freelyshe jogged him back to his third birthday.

Third birthdays were very important to children of Qushmar-rah. If a childlived that long it was likely to survive, so it received its real name on itsthird birthday. Whatever it had been called earlier was just a nickname.

Fathers might pick names for their sons before they were born, but they wouldnot reveal them till the exactly proper ceremonial moment. Prematuredisclosure would tempt fate too much.

Birthdays were good milemarks in tracing a young life. The Witch always usedthe fourth and third to establish her dominion. She had that now. She led the child backward into time, past recollections of people, places, and things, into a time when everything had been feeling and mood, and earlier still, intothe closeness and warmth of the womb itself.

And back.

"What I tell you is true. It is a bright, sunny day, and one of the happiestyou have ever known. Are you there? Do you see it?"

Confusion in the child's face. The Witch wiped sweat and sprinkled herbs ontothe coals.

"Do you see it?"

"Yes." A little puzzled.

"Where are you?"

"Tel-Daghobeh, overlooking the Grey Reach." The child's voice had deepenedsubtly.

The Witch frowned. The answer did not make sense. "What is your name?"

"Shadid."

Ah. "You are Dartar, Shadid?"

"Yes."

Of course. Darters had died that day, too. She had not considered that before, nor had she encountered one before.

She controlled her disappointment. Going in she had not expected much of thisone. Slowly, she took him through the details of his happy day-the dateShadid's first son was bom. She gained her hold upon the previous incarnationand in time brought it forward to the day she had examined from thirty pointsof view already.

"There is so much smoke we can't see twenty yards. They tell us if we wantclean air we're going to have to take the top of the hill. But the stubborndamned veydeen won't stop fighting. We just fought off a band of old men andboys armed with tools and kitchen knives. What is the matter with the veydeen?

Do we have to massacre every man, woman, and child?"

No, the Witch thought. You have to slay one man, Nakar, my husband, and allthe killing will stop. The smoke will dear and the rains fall and the firesdie and the death and devastation prove to be less widespread than everyoneimagined. But it will be terrible enough to leave everyone's thirst for murderslaked. She nudged the memory of the Dartar Shadid. "The Herodians have begunto move. This part looks like it might get to be house-to-house. We aredrawing random missile fire from the rooftops. It's more a nuisance than adanger. The snipers can't find their targets in the smoke. There is a smell ofburnt flesh in it strong, now. Now ... Now ..."

The Witch did not press. This stutter was a warning that the end was near. Thesoul remembered and did not want to get any closer to the pain. She askedquestions to fix the place and time.

She had no reason to believe that information might be useful, yet sherecorded it all in hopes of charting a pattern.

Mostly, she found cause for ever-increasing fear.

A lot of people had died that day. Far more than there had been babies born.

So far it looked like only the strongest souls had attached to new fleshimmediately. But suppose that was an illusion? Suppose luck and proximity wereequally crucial? In this instance the Dartar had died on the doorstep of awoman in labor.

She seldom knew enough, or unearthed enough, to see the transition so clearly.

Cautiously, she put Shadid to sleep and reawakened Histabel, restored him tohis proper age, then told him to rest.

This had been an easy regression. Very little resistance. A pity all of themdid not go as smoothly. A greater pity none of them ever turned up anyone moreimportant than this.

If she could not unearth Nakar, her husband, then she wanted to find hismurderer, Ala-eh-din Beyh.

"Torgo," she called weakly. "I'm done."

The eunuch appeared immediately. He had been outside the tent recordingeverything, in case her fragile, drug-sodden memory played pranks on her. "ADartar," he said, disgusted.

"Yes."

"I suppose we can say we are a step closer to our goal, my lady. We knew itwouldn't be easy when we started."

For the first time she felt a spark of real resentment of the eunuch's ritualreassurances. "Get me out of here before I go mad. I got too much of the smokeagain."

"Perhaps you should space the regressions more widely, my lady. So muchconcentrated exposure to the fumes cannot be healthy."

"I want him back, Torgo. I don't want to waste a minute I don't have towaste."

"And if a minute not taken now means having to pay with an hour or a day lateron?"

His solicitude touched something deep. She flew into an instantaneousunreasoning fury. "You stop your fussing and nagging and do your damned job, Torgo! Let me worry about me. Get me to my bed. Bring me food and drink. Now!"

Inside the facade there was a very frightened woman.

The facade was starting to crack.

She ate and she drank and then she retreated into that place of warm sleep andpleasant dreams she found only after exposure to the drugged fumes. A stillsmall but blossoming part of her fear was that she had begun to look forwardto those hours of surcease.

"You sure favor that balcony these days," Meryel said.

Bel-Sidek turned, smiled. "It's a good place for thinking."

"For brooding, you mean. What is it tonight? The new civil governor?"

"Nothing so obvious and mundane. This morning I learned that there might be atraitor of relatively high station among the Living."

Meryel gasped.

"You're not at risk. We seem to have identified him. He's not in myorganization. He's in the old man's."

"You're sure?"

"Not entirely. It's under examination, you might say. We've set it up so theman will betray himself if he's guilty. The ironic thing is, we found out onthe very day he was to have been promoted to a level where he would knowenough to pull the whole movement down. And we learned that he was suspectonly because of a personal calamity that's befallen him already." Bel-Sidekdecided not to go into that. "I almost feel sorry for the guy. Till yesterdayeverything was going perfectly for him. By tomorrow, probably, his whole worldwill have collapsed around him."

"You have to leave again?"

"Yes. I may have that to attend to, and the old man has a policy meeting set.

I could come back afterward. If you want me to."

"So coy. So shy. So ingenuous. Of course. Now, I've had a feast laid onespecially for you. Why don't we see if we can't do that justice before wefuss ourselves about lesser things?"

Bel-Sidek seldom ate well, unless at Meryel's. "Let's have at it, then."

Aaron slid away, just leaving a hand lying upon Laella's breast. Their mingledsweat began to dry. He shivered with a sudden chill.

It had not been very good. They were both too distracted. And having Stafawaken in the middle of it and jump on his back and yell, "Giddap, Dad!" wasnot something to ignite uncontrollable passion. Neither was having the yellalert the rest of the household to what was going on.

Mish was particularly intrigued by what happened between men and women in thedark. Her interest disconcerted him, and at times touched him with thoughtsand temptations that left him aghast at what could happen inside a man's mind.

That left him so ashamed he could not face Laella for hours after he caughthimself thinking them.

If she just wouldn't try to spy!

Laella got Stafa back to sleep. She moved in next to him, whispered, "I thinkI should tell Reyha."

"No. That would be too much of a burden for her. She'd end up calling him onit. Then how long would it take for him to find out where she got the idea?"

After a while, she said, "That could be dangerous, couldn't it?"

"Scared men are desperate and desperate men are dangerous. And unpredictable.

He might get the idea he could cover up."

"Then why don't you tell bel-Sidek? Everybody says he has something to do withthe Living."

"If he really does, then Reyha would be alone in the world."

"Maybe they wouldn't ..."

They'd kill him, Laella. They're hard men. They kill people every day forcrimes less than Naszifs. For him it might be a very prolonged and unpleasantdeath."

"Then there's no way out, is there?"

"Not without choosing who gets hurt. And I don't want that on my conscience."

The old man watched bel-Sidek slip into the house, barely in time to get the stage set for the meeting. "Did you have an enjoyable dinner with our lady ofthe ships, Khadifa?"

"Yes sir. She was highly amused by what she called today's preposterouscircumstances. Meaning her sense of irony got fat because the Living completedits biggest weapons-smuggling operation ever virtually without risk because ofHerodian arrogance. If the new governor and his escorts hadn't bulled throughthe traffic waiting to enter the straits her ships would have come in firstand we would have had to dodge and trick customs men all morning."

"Perhaps one of those very weapons will cut the pig's throat."

"You know him, sir?"

"I remember his father. They say this Sullo is identical to the beast thatsired him. Your man is being watched. If the letter he received doesn't sendhim running to Bruda he's innocent."

"Yes sir. Did you eat, sir?"

"It can wait."

"You have to develop some regular eating habits, sir."

"I'm sure. Your mothering can wait, too. Answer the door."

Bel-Sidek had not heard the discreet knock. He went to the door expecting tofind King early as usual. Instead, Salom Edgit greeted him. Bel-Sidek steppedaside. Edgit came in very carefully. He looked awful. The news about OrtbalSagdet must have given him no peace.

Edgit went to his usual place and settled. Though he was early he had nothingto say.

Hadribel arrived next. He exchanged looks and nods with the old man. Guided bybel-Sidek he took the place usually occupied by Sagdet. If Edgit noticed heshowed no sign.

Then came King Dabdahd. He looked as ragged as Edgit. Then the fanatics, together again and looking smug about recent events.

The General surveyed the lot. "As stated previously, the khadifa of the Hahris with us tonight." He did not introduce Hadribel. He and bel-Sidek were theonly ones supposed to know the names of everyone there-though, of course, everyone knew everyone. They had all been officers together in the same smallarmy.

"New business. The arrival of a new civil governor. His advent appears to haveconfounded and exasperated our oppressors as much as it has surprised us. Thisintelligence should be of interest to you all: he has in his train a sorceressof modest talent named Annalaya. She hails from Petra or some such place onthe Allurican coast, where they make so many minor witches. Does anyone haveanything to tell us about the new governor?"

King said, "One of my men heard that Sullo refuses to stay in the Residence."

The Residence was the seat of the Herodian civil governors. Like GovernmentHouse, it was in the acropolis, just a quarter mile away. Before the conquest it had been the main temple of Aram the Flame. "He wants a place in the hillseast of the city. My man suspected him of a superstitious dread of a placewhere so many villains met their fate."

"Keep an eye on that. Also under new business. Has anyone got any idea whatFa'tad is up to, invading the Shu labyrinth, other than tugging Cado'smustache?"

Headshakes.

"Salom? You have resources among those who work in the Dartar compound. Whatdo they have to tell us?"

"Nothing yet, sir. It's too soon. But I'll bet there'll be nothing.

Fa'tad is close. So close he doesn't tell his captains what he's doing halfthe time. Sometimes he doesn't know himself. Something catches his fancy, likea shiny coin fascinates a crow, and he plays with it. Sometimes he's like akid pulling the strings on a knit garment. He just wants to see what willhappen."

The old man ignored a pain that nipped at him like a malicious puppy. "We'lltable that. Anything else new? No? Old business, then. We continue to becomeless apparent among the people of Qushmarrah. We lull the oppressor with thethought that time and frustration are disarming us. We begin a phase lessactive toward Herod but more attentive toward Qushmarrah."

He winced. The pain was particularly persistent. "Sometime soon an event willtranspire which will make possible a serious attempt to reclaim our heritage.

I have no control over when. It could be as soon as next week or as distant as six months from now. But the result will be very much in the hands of themovement to exploit. Comes that day we will launch the general uprising someof our brothers find so attractive.

"Your orders are these: reduce conflict with the oppressor and our own people.

Expend the energies of your people in identifying the widest possible body ofsympathizers. When the day comes we will be able to arm hundreds beyond ourown number. I would prefer to offer those arms to men of known persuasion. Thefirst hours, while the news spreads and the oppressor responds, will becritical. We must confuse and unbalance the enemy well enough and long enoughfor the insurrection to generalize. There will come a point where Cado andFa'tad will not be able to cope."

Why am I making this speech? They had heard it till they were sick. "I amrepeating myself. I apologize. The message is this. We are gathering ourstrength against an indefinite someday no longer. The date itself is not fixedbut it is not likely to be more than six months away. You must prepare for it, and at the same time create the illusion that it is farther away than ever.

One final word. You will tell no one the day is coming. No one. No exceptions.

No excuses. He who speaks, and whoever hears him, will immediately join theformer khadifa of the Hahr. Silence is that important to me. Do youunderstand?"

He did not get a chance to force acknowledgments. Someone knocked at the door, and yelled. Irritated, the old man waved at bel-Sidek, then gestured theothers into the bedroom.

Bel-Sidek opened the door a crack and mumbled with someone. He closed up, cameto the old man. "A boy, about ten, with this. For you, I assume."

The General looked at the folded paper with the sparrow on the outside. "Openit. Place it so I can read it." He willed his eyes to work well enough.

His correspondent had taken his disabilities into account. The message waswritten in large block print. He grunted and read it again, then found theshape he recognized as bel-Sidek. "Khadifa, you were right. Your man isvisiting Government House right now." He offered the message to bel-Sidek.

"Handle it as you see fit."

Bel-Sidek read the message twice himself, then remained contemplative forseveral minutes. It meant a great deal more than an enemy agent reaching aplace of high trust within the movement. It could mean that all the guilt ofthose who had failed at Dak-es-Souetta, and the search for atonement andredemption implicit in their commitment to the movement, was moot, if not aprideful arrogance of false guilt. Had Qushmarrah fallen because an apprenticemetalworker of no breeding or standing whatsoever had lost his nerve duringthe course of something that wasn't even a battle?

No. True or not, it wouldn't do. Too many great men and great families had toomuch emotion invested in the legends already in place. It had to stay quiet.

But, even so, it had to be handled. The simple and final way would be to getrid of the man. But why discard a perfectly usable tool just because it hadcaused you injury? Why not retain it and use it with a little more caution?

"The khadifa of the Hahr has not yet assumed his new nor broken with his olddistrict. If he could dip into that and loan me a dozen reliable soldiers whocan be counted on to forget tonight's doings before tomorrow's dawn?"

Hadribel stared at him, almost smirking. "You want to borrow some men? Or areyou practicing for a speech to the Senate?"

"I need men." He controlled his embarrassment and the anger that stalkedbehind it.

Hadribel looked at the old man. "Sir?"

"Right away, Khadifa. Time may be critical."

"Yes sir."

Hadribel waited for bel-Sidek at the door. After hesitating a moment, waitingfor something more from the General, bel-Sidek went outside. In a moment hewas laboring to keep pace with Hadribel.

The new khadifa of the Hahr pretended an epiphany. "Oh. I'm sorry. How is yourleg?"

"It's been troublesome lately. But I've had to do a lot more getting aroundthan I'm used to." Imply that he had done so because of his specialrelationship with the old man.

Hadribel forbore any expression of sympathy. "What's going on? I take it theold man knows all about it."

"He does."

"Big secret, eh?"

"Yes. Isn't everything?"

"You need me along on whatever this is?"

"That might not be wise. You'd figure it out. The old man thinks too manypeople know already. Meaning one more than him."

Hadribel laughed. "He does have that way about him." He went serious.

"Honestly, how is he doing? Looked like he was having trouble tonight."

"He isn't getting any better. He won't slow down and let himself get better," bel-Sidek admitted. Then he lied, "On the other hand, he does seem to havestabilized."

"I worry. And I'm sure others do, too. If something happens suddenly, hispassion for secrecy will leave us all in the dark."

"He claims he's made arrangements. How good I couldn't say. I live with himand don't know what he's doing most of the time."

"What's this big event he was talking about?"

That's one of the things I don't know. He throws me out of the house when heeven wants to think about it. You ask too many questions. That isn't a habithe encourages."

Hadribel accepted the rebuke sullenly. Bel-Sidek did not care. This was not aman whose good opinion concerned him. Politics. You had to get along with, mixwith, people you wouldn't speak to in a lifetime otherwise.

He waited in the street while Hadribel and his sons assembled the crew he wanted. It took them only fifteen minutes. The Shu organization wasefficiently managed.

Bel-Sidek took the men away from the Shu before he explained that they weregoing to capture a Herodian agent who would be coming out of Government Housebefore long. He did not identify the spy. He told them the man was not to beharmed if at all possible.

"He should leave the door on the east side. He'll want to get out of sightquickly so he'll head for one of the streets that begin right across theplaza." He quizzed the men to make sure they knew the area. Most knew it aswell as he did, which was all part of being a member of the movement.

Knowledge was a weapon, too.

"You'll spread out, then, and let him get off the plaza. Then you'll herd himtoward me. I'm sure you all know the drill. We've done it before. You don'thave to get close enough for him to see you. He just has to know you're thereand you're moving toward him."

Usually the tactic was employed when the Living did not want the huntersrecognized afterward. This time bel-Sidek hoped to keep his quarry anonymous.

Naszif would not survive long if he was recognized. These men did not concern themselves with the niceties of strategy or policy. For them traitor and deadwere synonymous.

Hoping he was not too late, bel-Sidek dispersed his troops and began the wait.

On the harbor side the fog was drawing its mask over Qushmarrah. There on theeast face of the hill the air was getting hazy, the haze catching a weirdgreenish tint from the just risen nail paring of a moon.

As he slipped out of Government House, Naszif, the son of bel-Abek, was in asfine a mood as ever he'd known. It had been a day of days; almost enough tocounterbalance the misery of the day before. First, the promotion. Third inthe Living in the Shu. And the rumor was, that was as good as being secondbecause the khadifa of the Shu was reputed to be some pre-conquest lord whohad gone into a coma years ago but was of such high family they dared not puthim aside.

At last he had attained a position of power and influence- and, moreimportant, of access. He would know what was going on inside the organization.

He would know who was who. He would sit in on policy, planning, and strategysessions.

Colonel Bruda and General Cado were as excited as he was. A long-agoinvestment had begun to pay dividends. They had doubled his good fortuneimmediately by promoting him to vice-colonel in the Herodian army. His beingable to confirm the probability that Ortbal Sagdet had been khadifa of theHahr had pleased General Cado, too.

He felt the forty gold double sudets that represented his promotion bonus. Hesmiled. He could now afford to get his family out of the Shu. But his missionprevented his doing so. Maybe a second household? Would his several mastersaccept that?

His mood darkened when he thought of Zouki. His family had been gutted ...

He was too excited to pay proper attention to his surroundings, too thrilledto heed the old specter of guilt that had haunted him since that night at theSeven Towers. He did not feel the weight of fear that so often perched uponhis shoulders. He missed completely the first couple of moves made by the menstalking him.

The scrape of a foot in the stillness, the flash of a garment in motion caughtfrom the corner of his eye, and stark terror usurped his joy. It did not takea minute to understand what was happening. He had helped ran Herodians when hewas a ground-level man.

He fought the panic. Panic was the enemy's ally. If he refused to let itcontrol him he might find a way out. Up to a rooftop. Down into a basement.

They could not cover everything. He tried to remember how some victims hadgotten away back when he was on the other end.

Then he realized that they must know who they were running. They had beenwaiting for him. They knew he had gone inside. The promotion ... A ploy tosend him scurrying to Cado, to betray himself?

Then it would not matter if he evaded them. They would catch him at home. Theymight tell Reyha ...

He did panic then.

He ran.

All he could think of was getting back to General Cado. The Herodians tookcare of their own.

The soldiers of the Living were good. There came a moment when he was standingin the street, uncertain which way to go. A block behind, four vague shapeswalked his way. Three men waited in each mouth of a cross street. Nothing layahead but haze lighted greenly by the moon. He went the direction they wantedhim to go. And as he started a man stepped into his path, a limpingsilhouette. A man he knew.

"You can stop running now, Naszif. You have nowhere to go. Come. Walk with me.

Quietly. Unless you'd rather I let those others know who you are."

"No! By Aram, don't." He giggled. How long since he had sworn by Aram andmeant it? If secretly, he had adopted Herod, faceless god and all.

He was a vice-colonel, damn it. They would not murder him. They would ransomhim. Trade him for somebody. He wished he had told Cado he thought the manHadribel was going to take over in the Hahr instead of saving that for later.

The Living would trade him and more to get a khadifa back.

"Come. Let's walk." The voice was harder now. "We'll go to my house and talk."

"Your father ..."

"Is a harmless old man. He's nearly blind, and his hearing is what you wouldexpect of someone his age. And he's dying. He's much too preoccupied with thatto care about you."

Naszif glanced around.

"Yes. They're out there. Come. They're death. I'm life."

Resignation swept over Naszif. Almost, he felt relieved. There were nopressures now. No need to pretend. Everything was in other hands.

"You'll be watched. If you leave home, you'll be followed. If you move towardGovernment House you'll be killed. Good night." Bel-Sidek closed the door, leaned against it. A long night, not over yet, and he was supposed to returnto Meryel's when it was done. "You heard, sir?"

"Every word. A vice-colonel in the Herodian army. The human animal neverceases to amaze me. We know traitors seldom act out of fear and less often out of greed. We seldom fathom what does motivate them."

Bel-Sidek muttered, "He never took anything but the salaries due him as aHerodian officer."

"A traitor for love. The triumph or defeat of Qushmarrah meant nothing to himwhen the struggle meant he had to be separated from his wife while she gavebirth. He sold Qushmarrah for that. And that bastard Bruda really tried to gethim here in time." The old man chuckled. "Those slimy bastards always keep their word. Damn them."

"He's really a vice-colonel? That commission isn't just a piece of paper theygave him?"

"It was real. Oh, if they pulled him out of here they wouldn't turn him loosewith a field command. He isn't qualified. But something administrative, yes. Ajob like Bruda's, in Tuhn or Agadar."

"My hold on him is inadequate, then. I should have killed him."

"He'll remain controllable as long as he doesn't get near Cado. And for aslong as it takes him to find the nerve to tell his wife that he's become aranking Herodian officer. If his love is as strong as it seems, I suspect thedepths of hers will reflect it and she'll be up to accepting what he is." Then I do have no choice." "He's stillvulnerable. Through his weakness. Love. You will tell him that we have his sonand will hold him as a surety for his performance."

Startled, bel-Sidek asked, "Do we have him?"

"No. But I'll put that best man of mine on it and we will have him when thetime comes. I'll have you take a message to Muma's in the morning. You caninform the man anytime afterward."

"Yes sir. How are you, sir? Do you need me?" "Told the woman you'd be back todiscuss shipping schedules, did you? Go ahead. I'm tougher than you like tothink, Khadifa.

I'll survive."

Aaron watched Laella carefully throughout breakfast. He could see no sign thatsleep had worked any miracles and given her the answer that had eluded him forsix years. Mish watched them both in that way she did when she knew what hadhappened between them in the dark, looking for he knew not what, but causingknots in his guts. Arif ate somberly and delicately while Stafa flew aroundthe house chattering nonsense as he pursued some imaginary adventure, deaf toparental admonition. Raheb was closed in upon herself, maybe feeling her age.

Laella said, "I've got to do some marketing today." Thinking out loud.

Her mother said, "I'll go with you. I need to get some things."

Mish went into her pout immediately, for which Aaron was almost grateful.

Arif asked, "Can I go with you, Mom?"

"We'll see how you behave this morning."

Mish brightened some. She rose and started making Aaron a lunch.

Aaron said, "I won't need that today, Mish. We're only working half a day."

She looked like she could not make up her mind if she should be delighted ordistraught.

Aaron yawned, caught Stafa on the fly, hugged him as he squealed and wriggled, trying to get loose. He extended a hand, inviting Arif. Arif looked unhappyfor a moment, quietly jealous of his brother's facile way of gettingattention. Then he plunged forward. Aaron let Stafa make good his escape-whichamounted only to a furious dash in a circle which ended with a plunge onto hisfather's back-and took Arif into his arms.

That started the whole ritual of, "Do you have to go to work today, Dad?" and"Stay home, Dad," which finally ended with him bolting out the door.

He moved into the street feeling warm and content with his life and lot Everyman should be so loved and lucky.

Bemusedly, he reflected that he had not had a nightmare for two nights now.

"Aaron."

He looked up. "Bel-Sidek. Good morning. How is your father doing?"

"He's as busy as ever dying. He'll outlive us all. On your way to work?"

"Yes."

"Mind if I walk with you?"

"Of course not."

They walked in silence awhile, Aaron slackening his pace so his companionwould not work so hard descending the hill. He could not help glancing overoccasionally. He had been acquainted with bel-Sidek for years, and knew theman survived by scrounging odd jobs around the waterfront, but they'd neverspent any time together.

After a while, bel-Sidek sort of sighed and said, "I guess there isn't any wayto get at it but to go straight ahead."

"What?"

"You seem to be a fairly trustworthy man, Aaron. So I'm going to take a chanceon you. I belong to the Living."

Aaron looked at him and frowned. "Everybody thinks that, anyway. Why are youtelling me?"

"I am, in fact, a moderately important part of the command structure of theLiving, Aaron. Mostly because I was a commander of a thousand at Dak-es- Souetta. Yesterday one of the men who fought for me there came to me for someadvice. He doesn't know I'm with the Living and he wouldn't name names, butwhat he did say gave me enough to reason out the rest for myself."

Aaron stopped. He looked at his neighbor blankly. Inside he was in a complete state of confusion, panic fighting with wonder fighting with relief. He didnot know what to say or what to do. He could not think. Aram!

"What I want from you, Aaron, is for you to forget all about this. All aboutwhat happened at the Seven Towers. It's been taken care of."

"Hell, man, he had a wife and kid." No way to stop it once it stuck its headout of his mouth. His tongue was a treacherous serpent. "You have to thinkbefore you go cutting throats. They didn't have anybody else in the world.

What the hell are they going to do now? Your kind never think about that when..."

People were pausing to look at him before they hurried away. Bel-Sidek lookedlike he was in shock. But recovering. "Be quiet, Aaron! What's the matter withyou?"

Aaron did manage to lower his voice. He let it all spill out.

Bel-Sidek interrupted. "I see I'm going to have to tell you more than Iwanted. But trust you some, trust you all the way. Naszif isn't dead. Wedidn't kill him. Come. Walk. We're drawing too much attention."

And, Aaron noticed, Dartars were pouring into Char Street from the acropolis.

He walked.

Bel-Sidek said, "You were right about Naszif. He betrayed your tower out inthe hills. And he was still an agent of the Herodians. In fact, they hadadopted him into their society and he had become a vice-colonel in theirarmy."

"Naszif?"

"Yes. But now he's our man again. We've reclaimed him. He'll be working forQushmarrah. His wife and son have lost nothing. And only you, outside themovement, know about this.

I want you to forget. Everything. Tell no one anything and go on living yourlife. Can you do that, Aaron?"

"I can. But you probably won't let me."

"What?"

Amazed at himself. Talking back to an officer. Serpent tongue letting angersix years old spew out. "It's people like you that can't leave anything alone.

You can't as long as there are people like me whose lives you can spend." Astrange, almost drugged feeling, like he was outside watching somebody elsespeak the unspeakable. "You go play your games with Fa'tad and General Cado.

Just leave me and my family out of it. Leave us alone."

Bel-Sidek gulped air as he searched for something to say. "It's your struggle, too, Aaron."

Aaron spat into the dust. Then he laughed hoarsely. "Your ass. My struggle?

The only people who aren't better off since the conquest are your class. Andthe monster who lived in the citadel. If I had any real sense I'd turn you into the Herodians. But I'm an old dog and you people trained me too well when I was a pup. I can't turn on you now. Go away. Leave me the hell alone."

Aaron lengthened his stride. Bel-Sidek could not keep up.

As the anger evaporated, Aaron began to be afraid. Stupid. Stupid to let yourmouth run away like that. Those were dangerous men. Crazy dangerous.

Bel-Sidek stopped. He could not keep up. He fought down the anger that nippedat him like a fire trying to get started. He had faced these blowups before.

He did not like them. In part that was because he could not quite grasp thefrustration that fueled them, in part because he heard enough truth in them tohave his conscience wakened. He did not want to feel guilty about being trueto his beliefs.

It would not be a good day. Like it or not he was going to spend itreexamining everything that he was, agonizing over his own goals and those ofthe movement.

When you looked at the situation the way an Aaron did there was no mystery whythe movement had trouble attracting recruits. There went a man who had lost asmuch as any in the war, and he put at least as much of the blame for that onhis own overlords as he did on the Herodians.

That kind of thinking-with its damnable core of truth-was an enemy moredangerous than all the spies Cado might have on his payroll. That kind ofthinking might lead men to denounce the movement simply because they preferredHerodian order to the chance of a chaos that might interfere with commerce.

Bel-Sidek limped toward the waterfront, trying to shut out the pain in his legand in his heart. Each hundred steps he glanced back to see how much theDartars had gained upon him.

The Dartar column entering the Gate of Autumn seemed endless. The civiliansawaiting their turn to get into Qushmarrah were sullen and growing more so.

Even to Yoseh it seemed that Fa'tad was sending in every man he had. And thatjust did not make any sense. What was so damned important about that Shu maze?

"Nothing, I'll bet," Nogah said. "Just Fa'tad tying to get Cado to think hethinks it's critical. Maybe so Cado will take it away and make a fool ofhimself looking for something that isn't there."

"What difference does it make?" Medjhah asked. "We get paid the same whetherwe dig around or we don't. Why worry about it?"

Somebody else said, "Yeah, kid. What you getting fussed for?"

Nogah: "He hopes we're on the job a month. You didn't see that veydeen slip hewas making sheep's eyes at yesterday."

Medjhah: "Oh, she was tender, my brothers! Young and sweet. Her eyes were likealmonds toasted and glazed with honey. Her lips were a bed of rose petals."

Yoseh snapped, "Knock it off, you guys."

Medjhah: "Best of all, she wasn't very bright. She was making calf eyes rightback at him."

Nogah: "Sounds too good to be true. If she can cook I'm going to take her awayfrom him."

Yoseh's protests only made the ribbing worse.

Veydeen in the streets paused to stare, startled by Dartar laughter. Yosehsaid, "You're ruining our image."

He became tense as they passed through the acropolis, in the shadow of theCitadel. In an operation this size, how much chance Nogah's troop would end upwhere they had been posted yesterday?

Nogah must have arranged something. He broke off the column at the same alley.

As Yoseh helped unload he kept glancing at that doorway down the street. Everyglance provoked a wisecrack.

The house was closed up this morning. The crone was not in her usual place onthe street. Had his daring yesterday raised her bile? Had she sealed up thefortress till the siege of the maze was over?

Nogah flailed his injured arm to work out some of the stiffness. Already someof his cousins were pushing into the alleyway. Another six men, assigned byJoab, arrived and dismounted, turned their animals over to Yoseh. Yoseh asked,

"You're not going in there today, are you, Nogah?"

"Of course."

"But you're injured. Send me instead."

"I wouldn't do that. You'd miss your little veydeen doe." He laughed andmarched into the shadows of the alley. Yoseh started after him.

"Hold it, little brother!" Medjhah snapped. "Come over here."

Yoseh went, reluctantly.

"You got a lot to learn about keeping yourself alive, kid. First rule ofsurvival is don't ever volunteer for anything. Where volunteers get sent menget killed."

"Why does he keep me out of the maze?"

"He doesn't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not a child, Medjhah."

"You're no seasoned warrior, either. Qushmarrah isn't the mountains. Right nowyou're an apprentice. When Nogah is sure he can trust your judgment andability to follow orders he'll find something exciting for you to do." Medjhahsettled on a saddle he had pulled off one of the camels, leaned back againstthe wall.

Veydeen surged around the knot of animals, casting sullen glances at theDartars impeding traffic. Medjhah ignored them till a trio of young wives camepast, stealing glances at the mysterious nomads. He singsonged, "Come close, come closer, said the fox to the little hens. I cannot see you from here." It was a line from a popular Qushmarrahan fable.

The tallest woman lifted her nose and lengthened her step. The other twogiggled and whispered behind their hands and hurried to catch up. As she wasabout to fade into the crowd the tall one paused to look back.

Medjhah tossed her a wave. "We'll see that haughty beauty again before the dayis over."

"How do you know?"

"It's my irresistible charm. Veydeen women just can't stay away."

"More like they were carrying market baskets and they'll have to come backthis way to get home."

"That, too. But I'll bet you right now she comes along this side of the streetand gives me a chance to tell her more about the fox and the hens."

"You think so?"

"It's a game. Teasing game. Flirting game. She and I both know nothing wouldcome of it even if that was what we wanted. No Dartar is going to introduceher to any mysteries. Can you see sneaking into a woman's home and bed dressedlike this? Nobody would notice a Dartar who went calling while a woman's manwas away?"

"Get veydeen clothing. Step back there in the alley and change. Once you're inthe crowd nobody would notice you."

Medjhah looked at him oddly. "I never thought of that."

Yoseh shrugged. It seemed obvious to him.

Medjhah said, "We were talking about adventures before those hens came byflaunting themselves. Look at me, Yoseh. Perfectly content to sit here leaningagainst a wall, watching camels. You want to know why? Because Nogah has foundme enough adventures already. Don't go looking for trouble. You might findit."

Yoseh nodded. There was sense in that.

They watched the women go to market for a while, Medjhah flirting whenever onewould allow it.

The door down the street opened and the crone came out, followed closely by awoman whose face made Yoseh's heart jump. Then he saw that she was not thegirl. Her mother, perhaps. At least her older sister. The look was there, buttime had weathered it.

The women carried baskets. The crone eyed him narrowly as they passed. After aglance the other paid him no heed.

Medjhah did not exercise his charm upon her. When she was out of sight helaughed. "Heart going pitty-pat, little brother? Here's your big chance. Justwalk over there and start talking. But what if her father is there? What ifshe has brothers? What if she spits in your face and screams for help?"

Medjhah laughed again.

It was as if Medjhah could read his mind.

"Eh, don't worry about it, Yoseh. Come sit in the shade and watch the crazyveydeen. The parade is endlessly fascinating."

But the doorway down the street was open an inch. He could see the white of aneye pressed to the crack. Somehow, that shook the roots of the daydream, asthough reality threatened to intrude and force him to live out the fantasy.

His spirit was restless. That communicated itself to his flesh. He began topace.

Azel was plagued by an unaccustomed flux of the spirit. He was restless, uncomfortable, almost haunted as he moved through the Dartar infestation. Whatthe hell were they doing? Why the hell couldn't they leave the labyrinthalone?

He fretted as he drifted through the press of Char Street. He did not like thefeelings plaguing him. It was almost if he were suffering a premonition ofdisaster.

He slipped into the old man's house as quickly as he could. Almost too quicklyto pay attention to safety. And that bothered him, too. A man dared not putcaution aside.

The old man was in his bed. Azel said, "I'm here. Again. You seem determinedto use me up."

He frowned. He did not like what he heard from his own lips. It was not likehim to complain.

"Things have begun moving quickly. It cannot be helped."

"What is it this time?"

"The man you tracked to Government House. He turned out to be an officer ofhigh standing among the Herodians. We want to turn him to our own advantage.

We have him under control now but we don't expect our leverage to hold up."

"This is where I come in."

"The boy you took the other day is his son. We have informed him that we havethe child in our control. I want you to convince him of that fact."

"How?"

"Take him there. Show him the boy. Then get the child into our hands as soonas possible. Have him be the next one examined."

"That's asking for trouble. If I take the man inside he might recognizesomething. And the woman isn't going to accept that without a squawk. Nor willshe be pliant about who she takes for examination. It pleases her to imaginethat she's the driving force behind everything and that we're parasitichangers-on trying to profit from her researches. She tolerates us because shefinds us useful occasionally."

"She has failed to see all the implications of her husband's death."

"She's lived a long time, General, and most of it completely out of touch withreality. She's surrounded by sycophants content to feed her fantasies."

"Then it's time she was awakened."

Azel listened as the old man told him what to do. He indicated his understanding and approval with a single nod. "There's one piece of news.

Concerning the new civil governor, who seems eager to make enemies."

"Go ahead."

"He's chosen the villa of the widow of General Hanno bel-Karba as his residence. A damn fool idea that can't have come to him overnight. He musthave had people here ahead of time, looking for ways he can make trouble. Wordis, he's already sent the General's widow a letter ordering her to vacate bysundown tonight."

The old man remained silent for a long time. Then he said, "I wanted theorganization to stay out of sight and mind. But this cannot be tolerated. Isuppose he's threatened to evict her?"

"Of course."

"The man is mad. He wants to get himself killed. But that is nothing to you.

On about enduring your own travails."

General Cado was livid. He'd just heard from Sullo's own mouth a plan forconfiscating the properties of the widow of General bel-Karba. Insanity! Hispate was scarlet. He sputtered with rage.

Cado faced away from Sullo until he regained control. Then he faced around.

"You come with a certain reputation, Marteo Sullo. I assumed that most of whatI've heard was slander from the mouths of your enemies. But today I've learnedthat they have been too kind. Maybe they were ashamed to tell the whole truthabout your arrogance, your vanity, your stupidity."

Now Sullo sputtered.

"You came here planning to embarrass me, eh? Stealing that old woman's houselooks like an easy way, eh? Because she enjoys my favor? Maybe that's true.

But did you bother to find out who she is and what she means to the people ofQushmarrah? The hell you did. You fool. You try to take that woman's home andthe very least you'll do is end up dead. If you stay ahead of death for longit could mean the end of every Herodian in the city."

Sullo sneered, but beneath his sneer there was a hint of uncertainty, avarnish of fear.

Cado shifted to a gentler tone and pressed his advantage. "You saw the entirestrength at my command yesterday afternoon. Twelve thousand Herodian troopsnot of the first quality or they would be out facing the Suldan of Aquira.

Five thousand Dartar mercenaries commanded by an unpredictable madman whocould turn on us any minute. With them I control Qushmarrah-just barely- because ninety-nine out of a hundred Qushmarrahans don't give a damn who runs things as long as certain precious institutions are left alone. That old womanis one of those institutions. Her husband never lost a battle in his life, whether single combat or massed armies. He is revered as a warrior demigod.

These people believe he was struck down by assassins in Herodian pay.

"And that's true. And he won that fight, too. He killed them all. But he wasinjured so badly he could not participate in the battle at Dak-es-Souetta. Hedied of his wounds as we were taking possession of the city. Death was theonly enemy ever to best him. Diehards hid the body and tried to convince thepeople that he was still alive, but they failed."

"Is this fable supposed to impress or intimidate me?"

"It's supposed to warm a sense of reasonable caution in that dried-up pea youuse for a brain."

Sullo smiled nastily. "The masks are off now, aren't they?"

"They are."

"There is a strong party back home which feels that you have been criminallyslack in bringing these people to heel and converting them."

"I suspected as much. Though I read my failing as not having stolen enoughQushmarrahan treasure to slake their greed."

"They've sent me here to make up for your deficiencies." Another nasty smile.

Cado smiled right back. "This little chat has been more useful than Isuspected it would be. It's shown me my course of action. Which is to take noaction at all. All I need do is back away and give you your head."

Sullo eyed him narrowly, distrusting the triumph.

"You'll be dead before the week is out."

"If you dare ..."

"Not I, Governor. I won't lift a finger. You. Committing suicide. Your lovingsubjects, who're about as tamed and converted as they're going to letthemselves get, are going to cut your throat. I'll wish you good day, sir.

I'll even wish you good luck. You may make these people appreciate me muchmore than they do."

Sullo stalked out, not able to conceal his anger at being discounted.

General Cado relaxed, wondered how best to get convincing word to the Livingthat he and his had no part in Sullo's schemes, that he and the army ofoccupation would remain neutral in any dispute.

Medjhah was right. The tall and haughty woman came back, taller and haughtierthan ever, but cutting a course much closer to the alley mouth. Medjhahrenewed his invitation. The ice woman responded with a sway of body that saidhips were moving in cruel mockery beneath her clothing. Her satellites giggledbehind their hands and one who could not have been more than a year older thanYoseh flashed him a clumsy wink that scrunched up one whole side of her face.

He winked back just to keep the game alive. He whispered, They, too, were children when the rivers ran with blood."

Medjhah uncoiled. "I'm going to stretch my legs, kid."

"Be careful."

"Hey. What's my middle name? I'm not going to get near her. Them. I'm justgoing to see where they live." He drifted into traffic and disappeared. Yosehsat and brooded on the meaning of life and death and decided he probablywouldn't live long enough to figure it all out.

The glare off the harbor was intense. Yoseh closed his eyes. He may have dozedfor a few minutes. When he opened his eyes again he found a veydeen childstaring at him. The boy seemed familiar ... He looked some like the girl downthe street. Of course! He had seen the boy with the old woman.

Something scaly and cold uncoiled and stretched inside his stomach. "Hello.

What's your name?" He tried very hard to get his tongue around the odd shapeof the Qushmarrahan dialect.

"Arif. What's yours? Are you really a Dartar soldier?"

"Good morning, Arif. I am Yoseh, the son of Melchesheydek. Yes, I am a Dartarwarrior, though I am very new at it." Could the boy understand the differencebetween soldier and warrior? Probably not. Few adult veydeen could do that."

"How come you always wrap your face up in those black cloths?"

Yoseh could not answer that one. It was something you began doing when youbecame an adult. It was something the lesser tribes of the veydeen and theferrenghi did not do, so that they stood apart, branded, uncouth andlascivious. It was something he did not ponder. It was something that was.

He countered with a question of his own. "What is your sister's name?"

The boy looked baffled.

Yoseh repeated himself slowly, carefully, thinking he had botched the dialect.

The glow of illumination lighted the kid's face. He said, "You must mean Mish.

She's not my sister. She's my aunt. My mom's sister. Her real name is Tamisabut everybody calls her Mish. She's a real grouch."

Well. So.

Yoseh fell into a long conversation with Arif. He did most of the talking, answering questions about his native mountains and deserts and those greatsalt flats called the Takes, and about Dartar skirmishes with the Turoksavages who lived beyond the Takes. He got in a few questions of his own, mostly defining Arifs family.

Another of those families decimated by the war. No close relatives leftoutside this house except some married aunts. The same sort of story you heardeverywhere.

So where the hell did all the people come from? What had this crazy city beenlike before the fighting took so many? So crowded you couldn't breathe?

Their talk must have gone on half an hour. Medjhah came back, winked, went andsat in the shade and appeared to doze.

The girl came boiling out of the door down the way, looked around frantically, the back of one hand to her mouth. She was in a panic. Terror filled her eyes.

She spotted Yoseh and Arif. She looked like she went limp with relief.

Yoseh stood as she bustled toward them. He could not help staring. The scalything in his stomach thrashed. She did not look at him at all. Her cheeks werered.

"Arif! What are you doing out here? You know the rules! You're going to getthe spanking of your life when I tell your father what you did."

"Aw, Mish, I was just talking to Yoseh." "He was perfectly safe here, Tamisa.

When you tell his father will you mention that it took you a half hour tonotice that Arif had left the house?"

Her color deepened. She faced him, mouth opening to snarl. But then her eyesmet his. Nothing came out.

Down in Yoseh's stomach Old Scaly went into his death throes. Or something.

Medjhah chuckled into the silence that hung between them. Mouth dry, Yosehsaid, "My name is Yoseh." Tamisa said, "My name is Tamisa." "You are verybeautiful, Tamisa." The girl blushed. Medjhah chuckled again. Arif lookedpuzzled and displeased.

"Tamisa, don't you have another kid to watch, too?" Yoseh had just glimpsed asturdy little one headed their way like he owned Char Street.

"Oh, Aram! Stafa! Mother is right. I'm a hopeless, irresponsible half-wit."

She started to go. Too flustered to remember the older boy.

The younger one was there. The girl scooped him up as if that would save himfrom all the dangers he'd already evaded successfully.

Arif said, "Tell Mish about the time your father and Fa'tad ambushed theTuroks, Yoseh."

"I don't think girls are interested in those kinds of stories, Arif." Tamisaput the younger boy down in front of her and held on. "I don't mind. At homeall I hear is Mom grumbling about how her legs hurt."

Medjhah chuckled a third time.

Yoseh did not know what to say now. It was all in his lap. He was painfullyaware of the disapproval of the passing veydeen who saw one of their virgindaughters speaking to a Dartar.

He just started talking. After a while the girl started talking back to him.

They sat down. The boys began playing among the animals. Yoseh thought thecamels were unnaturally tolerant of their behavior. The little one, thefearless one, climbed all over them. He got bumped down once when he planted afoot too painfully, but otherwise did as he pleased.

Nogah came out of the alley with a coffle of five pasty-looking prisoners andturned them over to Medjhah. His expression was unreadable as he drank from awaterskin. But he said nothing. He returned to the alley with the waterskinslung over his shoulder.

Medjhah got a javelin and perched himself where he could keep an eye on the prisoners. There wasn't a hint of laziness or sleepiness about him now.

Yoseh tried to keep talking to Tamisa, but the appearance of the prisoners hadunsettled her. And the boys now clung close, frightened by the wild men out ofthe maze.

Medjhah whistled softly. "Hey, kid. Down the hill."

The smaller boy took off. "Daddy! Dad's home."

Old Scaly had a few convulsions left.

Azel leaned into the room where the eunuch was eating a late supper. "Hey, Torgo. We got a problem. I need to see the woman."

Torgo's eyes went tight and narrow. "I thought you walked out on us."

"Did I? I don't remember that. I remember saying I wouldn't commit suicide. Not the same thing." He kept his tone neutral. "I got to see her. Got an emergency request from the General. It's important."

Torgo rose, went to a sideboard. He washed his hands in a gold laving bowl, rinsed them in lilac water. "You're serious, eh? You would have stayed away otherwise. What is it?" "I need to see her. She has to make the decisions on this."

"She can't."

"Can't?"

"Unfortunate, but true. "The eunuch smirked. "She examined one of the children last night She won't recover before tomorrow evening. At the earliest."

Azel spat a curse.

"I hope it's not a deadly emergency." The eunuch's smirk grew malicious.

"It could be. For all of us."

Torgo was amused by his effort to be polite. Azel knew he would protract this, make it a bully's game.

Azel gave details about the highly placed Herodian spy.

Torgo said, "I don't see a problem for us in here."

"The General wants to turn the spy around. He's dead set on it. His best leverage is here. The last kid I brought in was the spy's son."

Torgo was genuinely surprised.

"The General has two requests. First, he wants the spy brought in and shownthe kid. Second, he wants the kid to be examined next so the Living can takepossession."

Torgo nodded, grinned. "She won't allow the first. And her schedule ofexaminations is set."

Azel loosed his wickedest smile. "The old man anticipated that. I'd guess hefigures this is a good time to define relationships more clearly."

"Eh?" Torgo looked uncomfortable.

"He understands the Witch. He knew her before Dak-es-Souetta and Ala-eh-din Beyh. He feels her desperation will lead her to bow to his superior wisdom."

"Or what?"

"Or he seals the Postern of Fate and pursues his war with Herod by othermeans."

Torgo snapped, "You get of a whore!"

"Not my idea, friend. I argued against it. But he's a stubborn old shit withnothing to lose and some right on his side. Her-activities are a danger to theLiving. There's a rumor the Living are behind the child-stealing. There'vebeen too many kidnappings. People are getting upset. He wants her to back off.

He wants to decide when, where, and how the children are taken."

"She won't agree."

"Her choice is agree or get no more children."

Azel watched closely. Torgo was angry but, like Azel himself, was restrainingboth anger and personal animosity. The stakes went beyond personalities. Torgopaced. He fiddled with things, flicked away specks of dust, made minuteposition adjustments. "I'll get hell for it but I'll go out on a limb. You cansee the boy. The rest will have to wait on her."

Thank you," Azel figured that would rattle Torgo.

"Bring him in blindfolded. Don't let him know where he's at or what we'redoing."

"Don't worry about me. Worry about putting the kid somewhere where he can beseen without giving away where he's being held. I'll pay my respects to Nakarnow. May he find Gorloch's favor again."

Torgo mumbled the formula sullenly. Azel grinned as he left. That ball-lesswonder couldn't root for that because it would mean losing out on hisfantasies.

Right now Torgo was as close as he was going to get to the woman he loved.

Aaron broke stride when he saw Mish with the Dartar. He glanced at the pasty- faced prisoners, the man watching them. That man looked back blandly.

Arif and Stafa arrived, whooping. Aaron settled the smaller boy on his left hip, took Arifs hand. He tried to keep his expression neutral as he looked at Mish and the younger Dartar. Arif babbled steadily as Aaron moved closer, telling him about the Dartar and his family. As he came up, Mish said, This is Yoseh, Aaron. He's the one who got hurt trying to catch the man that took Zouki."

The Dartar looked embarrassed. Mish looked frazzled.

"Why?" Aaron asked. He didn't know what else to say.

"What?" The Dartar looked perplexed.

"Why try to rescue the child?" The Dartar looked more perplexed.

The other came to his rescue. "A quaint perversion of us barbarians, Qushmarrahan. We care for children. Not something you would understand, perhaps." He spoke carefully, making sure he did not lose his meaning by slipping into dialect. He underscored by staring at Arif and Stafa. Aaron smiled. He looked at the younger Dartar. Thank you.

The boy was the son of a friend. I hope you weren't too badly hurt."

"Failure hurt more."

Aaron did not know what else to say. He glanced around. There were eddies in the human river as people paused to watch what might be a confrontation.

Uneasy, he looked at Mish, who was watching the Dartar boy in a kind of heatedwonder. "How soon will your mother be home? Are you supposed to have somethingready when they get here?"

"Oh! I forgot!" She ran for the door.

Arif said, "Yoseh, tell my dad about the time your father and Fa'tad

"He wouldn't be interested, Arif."

"My dad was a soldier. Weren't you, Dad?"

"In those days everybody was a soldier, Arif. It isn't anything to brag about."

Stafa was playing peekaboo with the other Dartar, looking round front of Aaron, then behind, while the man pretended to hide behind his face cloth.

Stafa giggled.

Aaron wondered if he was losing his grasp on reality. That man had five prisoners at his feet and a spear in his other hand and he would stick themwithout compunction if they moved, but he was playing peekaboo with Stafa.

Yoseh did not know what to do or say. He was very uncomfortable. He wished theveydeen would go away. He wished he had snarled at the boy when he had comeout. But then he would have had no chance to talk to the girl ...

It did not occur to him that the man did not know how to break awaygracefully.

The man said, "I suppose barracks food is pretty bad. It was when I ..."

"It is bad," Yoseh admitted, surprised by the turn of conversation.

"Maybe Mish can bring something out. By way of thanks for what you tried todo. If she hasn't destroyed whatever she was trying to make."

Yoseh smiled, but the veydeen could not see that. He could think of nothingmore to say. He was spared the need to reply.

Mahdah and Kosuth came out carrying a corpse. It was not fresh enough to beone they had made. Its face had been obliterated by a beating. Entrails hungout through tatters that served as clothing. They dropped it amongst theprisoners.

The veydeen man-Aaron?-grabbed his older son's shoulder and said, "Come on, Arif." He moved out fast.

Mahdah and Kosuth watched him go. Mahdah asked, "What was that?"

Medjhah said, "Too complicated to explain. What's this?" Kosuth was not in agood temper. "What the hell does it look like?"

Mahdah was less upset. "Came out of the same nest as these beauties. They musthave been having some fun in there last night."

Medjhah dropped his lancehead toward the one prisoner who had a little spirit, who might have been the leader of the group. He slipped the tip under theman's nose and lifted, forcing him to look up or be cut. "You'll find us moreimaginative but no less certain. Unless you care to help us?" The man spat atMedjhah.

Medjhah drew the razor-sharp edge of his lancehead along the man's cheek.

Yoseh turned away from that casual cruelty-and let out a bark of astonishment.

"Medjhah! That man! The one who took the boy ... Hell! He's gone now."

Medjhah said something to Mahdah and Kosuth, came over. "The one Fa'tadwants?"

"Yes. I saw him up the street. But he disappeared in the crowd."

"Let's take a walk. See what we can see." He gave Yoseh a gentle push. "You goup the far side of the street."

They climbed halfway to the acropolis, saw nothing, gave it up. It was time, anyway. There were other things to do. The masons had arrived with their mud bricks and tools and somebody had to show them where Nogah wanted two mazepassages sealed.

Too, Joab was working his way up the hill, stopping to give instructions tothe watchers outside the alleys.

Tamisa's mother and sister returned from marketing. Yoseh watched, wonderingif Tamisa would age as they had. He barely overheard Joab tell Medjhah to tellNogah that he should leave three men in the alley overnight. Fa'tad had beenrunning units in and out the Gate of Autumn all morning. The ferrenghi couldnot have kept track of how many were inside and how many were out.

Yoseh wondered if even Joab knew what Fa'tad had in mind.

Yoseh was amused when he heard Medjhah take his earlier notion and turn itinto a suggestion that some men be clad as veydeen if they were going to beleft in the city. Joab looked like that was about the craziest idea he'd everheard.

Sadat Agmed had been stalking his quarry for six days, with no luck, and hewas out of patience. It was not that the child was abnormally inaccessible. Nomore so than any daughter of a well-to-do family of the Astan. But she wasinaccessible enough. He'd seen her only three times since he'd received thecommission from the Witch.

He hated collecting girls. They were much more difficult.

He had spent too much time on this one already. People would remember seeinghim around. He ought to report in, say he could not do the job, let her giveit to somebody who could. But he had not failed a commission yet. There waspride at stake here.

A woman-the mother?-came out of the house, leading the little girl. Theyfollowed the same routine they had before, taking the uncrowded street uphill.

Meaning they would walk about two hundred yards and be admitted to the home ofanother well-to-do family. They would stay three hours, then would return.

Possibly it was something they were not supposed to do. Near as Sadat couldtell, the woman and child left home only when no one else was there and theywere certain no one would be aware that they had stepped out.

In this area women did not go out into public without a male companion. Aconceit of the prosperous.

There was only one way to do it under the circumstances. And as far as Sadatcould see, there was no opportunity to create more favorable circumstances.

He slouched after them, trying to look disinterested and innocuous, justsomebody headed in the same direction and walking a little faster.

He had worked it out a dozen times. His timing was exact. He overtook them asthey reached the mouth of the only alley and escape route leading off thatpart of the street. The woman glanced back just as he moved.

Her eyes widened and she tried to duck, but his blow put her down. He grabbedthe girl.

The child screamed. Someone yelled. The woman wailed. Sadat charged into the alley carrying the girl. She was not heavy. As he went he fumbled out a wad ofwet cotton. He forced that into her face.

A few blocks away he would be just some fellow carrying his sleeping daughter.

The blow to the mother had not fallen solidly. She staggered down the alleyafter him, wailing. Damn! And now a couple of men were with her, asking whatha'd happened.

Sadat Agmed ran. But the child slowed him. He distanced the woman but not themen who took up the chase. Each time he glanced back there were more of them, shouting louder and looking meaner.

He became frightened. Frightened, he did not think ahead carefully enough.

When he realized there would be no escape while he was burdened with thechild, he abandoned her and took off toward the Hahr. But he misremembered ashortcut by one turn and ended up darting into a dead-end alleyway. Dead endin more ways than one.

The mob pulled him off the wall he was trying to climb. Many were men who hadsmall children, men who had become intimate with fear of child-stealersrecently. They had no mercy in them, and no thought to ask questions. Theywere not armed, but that did not matter.

Sadat used two packs of flash and after each almost broke free. He flailedaway with his knife till someone knocked it out of his hand. The slashes onlyenraged the men more. They punched and kicked and stomped him till he had beendead for several minutes.

Then, horrified by what the animal in them had made them do, they ran away anddid not talk much about the affair.

A Dartar patrol reached the scene only after it was too late for anything buta cleanup.

Azel reported his conversation with Torgo to the General. The old man was morethan ordinarily irritable. His aches and pains were piling up.

"He'll let you take the traitor to see the boy, at least?"

"He gave me that much."

"I presume you don't want to be recognized any more than he wants the citadelto be. Have you a way to handle that?"

"Have somebody deliver him blindfolded to the third alleyway south of Muma'sPlace. I'll pick him up after the delivery boys go. After I bring him out I'llwalk him home."

"When?"

"As soon as it's dark. There's nobody up there after sundown."

"Be careful. The best men in the organization will be handling somethingelse."

"I'm always careful."

"I know. Good day."

"Same to you." Azel eased out the door after a glance to make sure no one waswatching. He was uneasy, suddenly. Like it was not a good time for ...

He caught the tail end of a shout. Puzzled, he looked downhill. And saw aDartar pointing at him.

Another Dartar appeared, looked, nodded, and started heading toward him.

Azel did not believe it for a moment. Why would they single him out? Must beone of the ones he had run into in the maze. Damn the luck!

He bulled into the crowd, where they would have trouble spotting him becauseof his stature. He reviewed his choices, supposing they were serious enoughactually to come after him. His favorite tool, the maze, was no good. A hordeof those bastards were in there. He couldn't fight them all.

A horn sounded behind him. "Shit!" They had sounded an alarm. They wereserious.

Why? What the hell was the matter with them? What did they have on him? Whythe hell should they give a damn about a kidnapping? Unless Fa'tad had begunto sense a pattern?

He glanced back.

They had stolen his physical advantage. One man had mounted a camel and waskeeping him in sight. Two more were pushing through the press on foot.

"All right, you treacherous sons of bitches." He pushed harder, edging towardthe north side of the street, away from the maze and the Dartars uphill. In aconversational voice he said, "Make way for the Living, please," repeating itover and over, hoping it would not do more harm than good.

The horn sounded again. Answers came from uphill and down.

The crowd began to chatter and grumble. Somebody tripped one of the Dartars.

That started a fight that threatened to become a free-for-all. The camel riderbegan laying about with the butt of his lance.

Azel chuckled. A long shot had come in.

An uphill Dartar pushed into his path, threatened him with a lance he heldlike a quarterstaff. Azel did not slow. When the Dartar swung the butt of thelance Azel grabbed it and yanked, kicked the man in the groin, punched hishead, and pushed on. He reached the mouth of an alley running north.

He looked back again. The camel rider glared helplessly from a hundred feetaway. Azel saluted him and entered the alleyway. As soon as he was sure no onewas watching he climbed to a rooftop.

He continued to move warily there. Qushmarrah's rooftops, in the dense OldCity, were another world, like the Shu maze, but one he did not know as well.

He could not be sure he did not have enemies up there.

The crowd had begun to disperse by the time Aaron got out to see the cause ofthe uproar. Qushmarrahans did not want to be around when Dartars gathered instrength.

Two Dartars were lying in the street. One of them looked like the kid he'dbeen talking to a while ago. A man on a camel stood guard over them.

Aaron did not think. He just ran out, arriving as the camel rider brought hismount to her knees. That was the one who had watched over the prisoners whilehe had spoken with the younger one. Yoseh?

Aaron dropped to one knee. Both men were breathing. "What happened?"

The rider said, "Yoseh saw the child-stealer from the maze. We went after him.

He said something to the crowd. They attacked us."

The boy opened his eyes. He tried to get up. Aaron offered a hand. The boyflinched away, then accepted. Aaron lifted him, slipped an arm around hiswaist, helped him stumble back to where he had started. He did not notice theDartars gathering like ravens. He did not notice the scowls of Laella and hermother, watching from the doorway.

He set the boy down, looked back to see if the other needed help. That one wassurrounded by Dartars. He looked at the boy again, intrigued by the scars andtattoos revealed when his face cloth was gone.

"Thank you," the boy said.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll have a lot of scrapes and bruises. Otherwise, yes."

Aaron assayed a weak sally. "You're going to have to quit chasing that man.

You keep ending up ..."

"We'll get him."

A one-sided row broke out at the house, Raheb so excited her voice squeaked.

Aaron was surprised to see Mish headed his way with a bowl, rags, and whatpassed for medical supplies in their household. She settled on her kneesbefore the boy, dipped a rag in the bowl, began cleaning the street dirt offhis face.

Aaron settled on his haunches. He wondered what Mish thought of the boy'sscars and tattoos. He smiled when she tried to scrub the latter away.

There was another feminine outburst, Laella this time, then Arif was therebeside him, left hand on his right shoulder. Arif did not say anything. Aaronslipped his arm around his son's waist. In the background Stafa raised hellbecause his own break for freedom had been intercepted.

Aaron watched Mish and wondered why the crowd had turned ugly so suddenly.

What had the child-taker said? They would have turned on him, probably, hadthey known what he was.

He realized that the shadow of a man on horseback had fallen upon them. Helooked up. Into the wet grey eyes of an old hawk.

Joab.

The thin shell cracked, somewhere there in the back. The poison of hatredboiled through.

Joab, whose horsemen had overridden a Qushmarrahan company on the Plain ofChordan, leaving Aaron's father and brothers among the dead.

Aaron's body refused to be controlled. He rose slowly, coiled to spring. Hislimbs began to shake. A sound like that made by a cat trying to cough up furballs came from his throat.

Those grey eyes filled with surprise and maybe a touch of fright.

Aaron caught a glimpse of bel-Sidek standing on the far side of the street, watching him in amazement.

The dark fog parted. He shuddered, tore his gaze away from Joab, said, "Mish, come on," and gripped Arifs shoulder hard, headed him toward home. Mish camewithout protest, having heard something in his tone that silenced her penchantfor contradiction.

Yoseh watched the girl walk away, saddened, puzzled. "What the hell justhappened?" Joab asked. "I thought he was going for my throat."

Medjhah said, "You offended him somehow. About six years ago."

Joab looked at the veydeen man, grunted. "What went on here? Are these men allright?"

"Just a little battered, sir," Yoseh said. He explained about spotting thechild-stealer. Nogah came out of the maze and hovered nervously while hetalked.

The General closed the door he had held open a crack throughout theexcitement. He cursed softly, over and over. Azel had gotten away, but it hadbeen a close thing and those bastards-Joab and Fa'tad, at least-were going toput in some time trying to find out why the man had been in the area.

Azel never made mistakes. Not to the old man's knowledge. Nor to his own, either, probably. But his stroke of tactical inspiration, invoking the name ofthe Living, just might turn into a strategic nightmare.

Not Azel's fault, really. His own, for overutilizing his best man. Had anyonenoticed his frequent visits? Those had to stop, inconvenient as that would be.

He dared not have a child-stealer connected with this house or the Living.

The Living would have to disavow him, condemn him, demand that he be punishedfor using the movement's name. Azel was deft. He would evade trouble. Whatevernotoriety came of this would die out soon.

He looked across the room to his writing table, miles away. He had to scribblea note to Azel, warning him off, advising him that he would have to endure thename of outlaw for a time.

He started working his way along the wall, wishing there was someone he could bring in on what he was doing. He was too feeble to carry the whole burden.

But did he dare inform his khadifas? Most would be appalled, even outraged, though not all for the same reasons. Zenobel or Carza? Maybe. If it was presented carefully enough and he revealed the full scope of his duplicitous stratagem, so they would not be repelled by its unsavory immediate aspect. The old man had spent too much strength getting to the door. He did not retain resources adequate to the return journey.

For once bel-Sidek was not sorry about the condition of his leg. Had he been healthy he would have arrived in the middle of things, while tempers burned their hottest and reason bent before a draft out of Chaos. There was residual anger enough to trouble him as he questioned his neighbors.

Inner, secret shame had left some defiant. They could not admit that they had been gulled by a thug. His reassurances were not well received. He dared not pursue it too closely. He limped home irritated. Ortbal Sagdet had proven insiders could use the movement to their benefit. But who would have thought the baser sort of villain might use its name as a tool? He burst in ready to treat the General to an angry monolog. "Sir! Oh, Aram have mercy!" He dropped a squash he had bought for supper, fell to his knees. "Sir?"

The old man croaked, "Bel-Sidek?"

"Yes sir. I'm here, sir."

The flesh betrays the spirit." The old man's words came one to the breath. "Get me to the writing table."

Bel-Sidek lifted him. He was so light! "What were you trying to do, sir?"

"Watched that uproar in the street. Bel-Sidek, a beast of a man, a child- stealer, used our name to escape Dartar justice. If there is such a thing. Where are you going? I said the writing table."

Bel-Sidek lowered the old man into his bed. "You talk too much, sir. Shut up and rest." "The writing table. An order." "So try me for mutiny. At least you'll have the pleasure of being alive to enjoy it."

"The word has to go out. That man has to be caught. People are too eager to think evil of us now."

"Dictate. I'll take care of it."

The old man worked his way around till he faced the wall.

Stubborn old bastard. What was he doing walking around without help? At the very least he could have broken brittle bones.

Bel-Sidek began his meal preparations, and worried. He was supposed to joinMeryel again tonight. But it was obvious someone had to ride herd on the oldman, whose reason was slipping. He could not leave. But it was imperative thathe meet with Meryel and arrange for the disposition of the weapons in herwarehouse. They could not be kept there in a mass. Too much to risk.

Hadribel. The new khadifa of the Hahr had not yet left the Shu. He would doanything to overcome the embarrassment of Having allowed a Herodian agent torise so high in his organization.

Yes. Hadribel. He would not have to be away from the house more than a fewminutes to get Hadribel.

All the news came to Muma's first and fastest, Azel reflected sourly. Or, atleast, all the news that was bad news.

A child-taker stomped to death in the Asian. He did not want to go, but he hadno choice. If Agmed or Bel-Shaduk had got himself killed they would need toknow in the citadel. Now.

He half hoped the man killed was one of those two. That was the sort of whackupside the head the Witch needed to wake her up.

Azel pushed away from his table and went out into the late afternoon. Heheaded east by alleyway and back street. The better streets all boastedDartars headed for the Gate of Autumn and the compound beyond. He did not wantto run into any more Dartars. He was in a mood to try to hurt them and thatwouldn't be smart. They would only hurt him back.

He did not have to go rooting around the Astan to find out what he wanted toknow.

Here and there along Goat Creek, in the open spaces before the Old Wall, weregrounds designated for dumping. A Herodian conceit. They bred flies and ratsby the million. But so had the pre-conquest custom-still followed west of theacropolis-of dumping anything unwanted out the nearest window, in hopes therains would wash it away.

One of the bigger heaps served a grim purpose. It was there the corpses ofcriminals were thrown out for scavengers. It was next to the mound whereunwanted babies were set out to die or be found by those who did want them.

These days few were unwanted, few were exposed. Azel passed the placewondering if it might not have been better had he been exposed.

The body was there on Skull Heap. The day was failing but there was lightenough. He turned back the way he had come.

Sadat Agmed, looking pretty harmless now.

Mo'atabar came almost before Yoseh settled himself to his supper. "Fa'tadwants him as soon as he's eaten," he told Medjhah, who was in charge becauseNogah had stayed in the city with Faruk and another, hidden inside the Shumaze. "You, too."

Medjhah grunted. So did Yoseh.

Once Mo'atabar went, Medjhah said, "It didn't rattle you tonight, littlebrother."

"I hurt too much to worry about Fa'tad." He flinched, but not from the pain.

They were questioning captives in the compound. Some needed convincing andwere a little exuberant with their protests.

Yoseh did feel less uncomfortable crossing the compound. He supposed you couldget used to anything. Yahada showed them inside and pointed out places to sit.

Fa'tad was receiving reports from his captains.

He asked, "The man used the same powder we saw before?"

A man Yoseh did not know replied, "Twice, apparently. Our people weren't thereto see it. He wasn't reluctant to use a knife, either. He cut a dozen mentrying to get away. A couple probably won't live."

Fa'tad grunted.

"He was Dartar, Fa'tad."

Fa'tad looked up, grunted again, sourly. Yoseh wondered if he was havingtrouble with his digestion.

"One of the men recognized him. His name was Sadat Agmed. An outcast. From al- Hadid clan."

"I recall the man. A thief. And too quick with a blade. What did you find onthe body?"

"Nothing. Except gold. Three pounds on each ankle and more on each arm."

"Child-stealing must be lucrative. So. Now we've run into two of them, armedwith minor sorcery. Are there more? Who's buying the children they steal? Whatare they doing with them?"

No one had an answer. No one had a suggestion about how to find out, short ofcatching one of the child-takers.

"Tell me about the other one," Fa'tad told Yoseh. So Yoseh related events ofthe afternoon. Medjhah gave al-Akla the perspective from camelback.

"The important thing we learned," Joab interjected, "is that we're making noheadway in the Shu. The man said he was an agent of the Living and the crowdturned on these boys."

Yoseh was surprised. He had not known that.

The Living. We're not fighting them right now, Joab. We're trying to disarmthem by example."

"Not fighting them? We're trying to take away the night. Their time."

"True."

"And how long before Cado gets wind of the fact we're leaving men in the cityovernight?"

"Not long. But if we take the night from the wicked and Herod orders us togive it back, who gains in the eyes of Qushmarrah?"

"I still say you play the game too subtly," Joab grumbled. "Find the captainsof the Living and come to an accommodation."

"We play for higher stakes, old friend." Al-Akla seemed to realize, suddenly, that he spoke before more than the inner circle. "Yoseh, Medjhah. You may go.

Thank you. Your efforts will be remembered."

They rose. As he followed Medjhah out, Yoseh heard Joab say, "The one boysuggested we dress some men as veydeen."

"And how do we make their faces look veydeen?"

As they crossed the compound Yoseh mused, "I never thought how our faces wouldgive us away." "Maybe wisdom does come with age."

The old man heard the street door close and steps approach. Not bel-Sidek'sfamiliar shuffle. He felt a moment of fright. Then he chuckled when Hadribelmoved into the room.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I'm fine."

"Bel-Sidek was very concerned. He said ..."

"For all he's the man I've chosen to replace me when the time comes, bel-Sidekis a damned old woman when he starts fussing over me. The gods have beenmerciful tonight." He'd gotten worried about how he would get Naszif deliveredto Azel.

"I have work for you, Hadribel. Work that must be done immediately, that bel- Sidek would have ignored even had his lapse meant the death of the movement.

First, take me to my writing table."

Hadribel hesitated only a moment.

As he wrote his note to Azel, the General said, "I want you to go to Carza andtell him I have to see him immediately. If you both hurry he'll be with memost of the time you're running other errands. There'll be no cause for anagging conscience."

"Other errands, sir?"

"After you've summoned Carza you must collect the traitor Naszif bar bel-Abek, blindfolded, and deliver him to an agent of the movement." The old man gavedetailed instructions on how and where, with a strong caution against making any effort to get close enough to get a good look at the agent. "He's my mostprecious asset and I'll have no one know who he is lest he be betrayed eveninadvertently.

"Once you've delivered the traitor you'll take this message to the hostelcalled Muma's Place." Hadribel needed special directions. He did not know theplace. "Deliver the message only to Muma himself. Then return here. Knock. IfCarza hasn't left he'll answer and you'll have to find some way to occupyyourself till he goes. If he doesn't answer then you're to come in and remaintill bel-Sidek returns. Clear?" "Perfectly, General."

"Good. Then help me to my bed and be on your way." The old man sank into bedand collapsed into a deep, exhausted sleep, interrupted only when Carzaentered, to be introduced to the ultimate secret of the Living.

Zouki came alert as sudden silence invaded the cage. It was a silence filledwith terror. He looked around and saw the big man step through the cagedoorway.

The big man came straight toward him.

His heart hammered. He wet himself. He whimpered. He wanted to get up and runbut his body refused to obey.

The big man scooped him up and carried him out of the cage, through that hugeplace, into a large room lighted only by two candles at the far end. The bigman set him down between the candles. "You stay there, boy. You don't moveunless I tell you. Or you'll be sorry."

Zouki was too terrified to do anything else.

In the dusk a man leading an incongruously gaily decorated donkey cart camedown the dusty country lane leading past the home of the widow of theQushmarrahan hero, General Hanno bel-Karba. The man stopped before an oldwoman sitting by the roadside, weeping, watched over by several servants whoseloyalty the Moretians had not been able to banish through threats or acts ofterror. The man said, "Help her into the cart."

A servant, shaking, asked, "Who are you?"

"An old friend of her husband. I'm here to take you to safety."

The man's air of authority convinced the servants. They lifted the old womaninto the cart, then followed the man when he turned and led his donkey backthe way he had come.

Two miles up the road he turned off into a wood not yet devoured by theHerodian beast. He took them to a camp in a glen in the heart of the woodwhere they were received with great honor and solicitude by a band of menstrangely garbed in black camisards and pantaloons. The men were blackeningone another's faces with charcoal.

They made the refugees comfortable and fed them well while the cart man askedquestions about the Moretians who had put them out of their home. He changedto the strange clothing himself and allowed his face to be blackened while hetalked.

The old woman never spoke, never took her gaze from the fire.

The cart man asked, "Are we ready, Naik?"

"Yah, Khadifa."

"Then let's get to it."

Now the old woman looked up. "Are you the ones they call the Living?"

The khadifa inclined his head slightly. He did not answer directly. He said, "You will be back in your own home before the sun rises, honored lady."

Azel was late to the rendezvous because Muma's sons were so uncomfortable about the whole situation they had overscouted it. But his man was there, head tucked up in a cloth bag, and his escort was back where it was supposed to be.

Good.

The man in the blindfold jumped when Azel touched him. "Come," he whispered. The man came, saying nothing, cooperating even though he could have no certain idea what was afoot. Azel kept an alert watch but saw nothing. No one moved in the acropolis at night. Not even the Herodian sentries who were supposed to be on duty. He led his charge in through the Postern of Fate. Torgo was waiting. He beckoned Azel to follow him. Azel frowned. The eunuch showed none of his habitual impatience.

Torgo led him to a large room. The boy sat between two candles at the far end, looking miserable. Azel whispered, "I'm going to take off the hood and show you your kid. You don't do nothing. You don't say nothing. You don't turn around. You got that?"

The man nodded. Azel removed the sack.

The man stiffened, took in a quick breath, restrained himself otherwise. Azel let him look as long as he wanted, till he nodded his head again to say he had seen enough. Then he replaced the sack, backed him out of the room. Torgo closed the door. He whispered, "I woke her up. She wants to see you.

I'll take care of him till you get back." Even in a whisper there was a hint of gloating. "Good. I have a word for her, too. Where?"

"The altar."

Amused, Azel left the traitor to Torgo and went to see the Witch.

He found her standing by what remained of her husband. Her face glowed with a mad determination. It illuminated and made strange her beauty. But it did nothing to conceal the fatigue that weighted her down.

"I'm here, lady." No need to put her on the defensive. The news about Sadat Agmed was all the leverage he needed.

She turned, not removing her hand from the cold flesh of her husband. "Torgotells me your General has threatened me."

"Not my General, lady. I'm just a bridge between you and him."

"By what right does he ... ?"

"By the right of good sense, first. Your haste has started to attractattention. And by the more primitive right of strength. We can't operate outthere without his blessing." -~ "We shall see about that. Are you with me, Azel? Or have you truly deserted me?"

"I'm with you always, lady. Always. But I won't screw everything up by gettingin too big a hurry."

"Damn you! You'll do what I tell you ..."

"Lady! Sadat Agmed was killed today."

She looked at him hard. The color faded from her face. "How do you know thatname?"

"I make it my business to know things. It's how I stay alive."

She stared for a moment, becoming just a tired woman as she did. "Tell meabout it."

"He tried to take a kid in the Astan. He blew it. A mob got after him. Hecouldn't outrun them. They cornered him and beat him to death. Tomorrow thenews will be all over Qushmarrah. It'll be ten times as hard to grab a kid."

The Witch sighed.

Time to drive it home. "I was in Char Street today, making arrangements aboutthe traitor and trying to get the General to ease up on you. When I wasleaving I was recognized by the Dartars I ran into the other day. I wasluckier than Agmed, but a lot of people got a good look at me."

The Witch sighed again. "I guess you win, Azel. If the Fates will a thing, nothing we do will change it. Tell the General I'll do his boy next. Pick himup tomorrow night." She patted her dead husband the way a mother patted acolicky baby.

Azel bowed. "Thank you, lady." He backed out and returned to his charge, notconvinced that he had been granted a triumph. "Come," he said, and led thetraitor away.

He decided to take the man home through the maze. Less likely to be seen byanybody that mattered.

He was ten steps in when he realized they were not alone in the darkness. Hisnose warned him, catching a hint of camel and horse. He stopped, turned hischarge, whispered, "We just walked into an ambush. When I take the hood off, you run like hell. Straight home. I'll hold them off." He lifted the sack andgave the man a shove.

The traitor ran.

The Dartars began to move.

Azel squeezed his eyes shut, placed a hand over them, faced away from theambushers, threw a packet of flash.

They screamed.

He drew his knife and went after them.

As he stalked the last of the three he heard shouts from others approaching.

He finished it, got the hell out, and headed for Muma's.

If they got in his way one more time, some night when he wasn't exhausted hewas going to go in there and show them how to run the maze. They'd be pickingup pieces of camel jockey for a week.

The night was still and the fire was banked. The children were snoring and thewomen were sound asleep. But Aaron was not. Each time he started to slip off, something brought him back.

He was conscious of the warmth of Laella beside him. That kept his filthy mindstraying across to Mish ... For a while he thought it was the ferociousguilt from thinking the unthinkable. That carried a speck of the blame, butonly a speck. The main culprit was that business in the street, that reminderthat the horror was out there still, waiting to pounce. He did not want to goto sleep because the nightmares were waiting on the other side.

He did not at first recognize the sound for what it was, someone tapping atthe door. Then, more puzzled than frightened, he went and peeked.

"Reyha? What in the world?"

"I have to talk to Laella. I don't have anyone else."

"Come in." Aaron opened up. let her slip inside. He peered into the foggystreet. "Where's Naszif?" He could not imagine a woman-especially timid Reyhahazarding the Shu's night streets alone.

"Wake Laella. Please? I'll tell it all at once."

"I'm awake," Laella said, sitting up.

Aaron saw the stir had wakened Raheb, too, though she was pretendingotherwise. He said, "Sshh!" and followed Laella to the hearth. They settledthere. Aaron began stirring and feeding the coals, building up a small firefor the comfort. Reyha seemed troubled.

She said, "I don't know how to say this. It's so new to me. And so dangerous.

But I have to talk to somebody. Promise me you won't say anything to anybody, ever. Please? Laella? Aaron?"

Laella nodded. "Of course."

Troubled, Aaron did not respond. He liked Reyha a good deal, but ...

"Aaron?"

Laella gave him a look. "I'm sorry, Reyha. My mind wandered. Sure. Of course. But where's Naszifr" "The kidnappers. They took him somewhere to show him they have Zouki. To make him do what they want."

"But ..."

"I have to get home before they bring Naszif back. So let me tell it first. All right?"

"Of course we will," Laella told her.

"Sometimes I suspected but I never really believed it till he told me. Naszif is part of the Living. Very high up. They just promoted him to where he's thethird or fourth highest man in the Shu. But he's in the Herodian army, too.

They let him join right after the conquest. He's a colonel and he's beenspying on the Living."

"He told you all this?" Aaron asked.

"Keep your voice down," Laella cautioned. "You'll wake the children."

"Yes. He did. This morning. He broke oaths to do it. But he said he had to tell me because of Zouki. He said the Living found out he was a Herodian andthey took Zouki so they could make him do what they want, which is lie toGeneral Cado and spy on the Herodians."

Aaron thought she was awfully calm about the whole thing. But Reyha was a sortof passive person, accepting of things that were beyond her control. Hegrunted. Laella said, "Why are you taking a chance, telling us? Aaron and Ihave no reason to love the Herodians."

"I'm too confused about my feelings. I need somebody to help me think."

Nobody said anything. Aaron could feel Reyha's pain. Nothing he could say would change that.

She finally observed, "You don't seem very surprised."

Laella rested her hand on Aaron's. "We suspected for a long time. Naszif did strange things sometimes."

"Oh."

"What do you want, Reyha?" Laella asked.

"I don't know. Except I want my baby back. If we had Zouki, Naszif says the Herodians would send us somewhere where we'd be safe and he wouldn't have to spy on people anymore."

Aaron wondered if they'd do that, really. Maybe. The tie that bound the Herodian empire together was its strange and bitter religion. If Naszif had adopted that, they might consider him one of their "confederates," with acitizenship only slightly more restricted than that of native-born Herodians.

He said, "I don't know how we could help, Reyha. Anything we did would put usin the middle between the Herodians and the Living. I won't speak for Laella, but I'd just as soon not have anything to do with any of them. I have my ownfamily to worry about."

Laella said, "Aaron!"

"I don't know what you could do. I just wanted Laella to know because shealways stays calm, no matter what, and I get rattlebrained, so maybe she couldthink of something when I couldn't. I wouldn't ever ask you to do somethingthat would get you in trouble."

Laella told her, "We'll do whatever we can to help you, Reyha. You know that."

"Thank you. I'd better run home. Before Naszif gets back. He'd be very angryif he knew I told you anything."

"He won't know," Laella said. "Aaron, you'd better walk with her."

Aaron sighed. "Yes. I suppose I'd better."

Reyha had little to say during the walk. She had exhausted her reserves ofcourage and talk. When he got back home, Laella said, "Well? Something got toyou while she was telling us. What was it?"

"Zouki was kidnapped before they found out about Naszif. So that couldn't bewhy he was grabbed. And bel-Sidek promised me the Living didn't have anythingto do with it. Even Naszif didn't believe the Living would be involved inchild-stealing. So how come all of a sudden they tell him they've got Zoukiwhen they want to twist his arm?"

"Maybe they lied."

"But they're taking him to see Zouki."

"Don't bark at me, Aaron. I don't know who's doing what to whom, or why. I'mnot sure I care. Reyha and Zouki are what I care about. Do you understand?"

"Yes. There's no point fussing about it till we find out what they showedNaszif or did to him. I guess."

"What if he doesn't come home, Aaron?"

"Huh?"

"What if they ... they did something with him: What would Reyha do?"

"We're getting ahead of things. When Reyha needs help-if she needs it-we'll dowhatever we can. So let's not get fussed. Let's get back to bed. I have towork tomorrow."

Naszif burst out of the mouth of the Shu maze, turned left, lengthened hisstride, ran all the way to the side door of Government House. He gave thepassword and his emergency code. To his amazement he was in to see Colonel Bruda before he got his wind back. "What is it?" Bruda asked, knowing it would be dramatic if it had to be done this way.

"They've found me out. I can't take more than a few minutes or they'll know I came here. They're trying to force me to work against you."

"Damn!" Bruda punched the wall. "Just when we were getting close to them." He kissed a skinned knuckle. "You want us to take you out? I can send troops to get your wife."

"No. They have my son. He's their leverage. I'm going to stay in till I can get him out, too. And meanwhile try to learn enough to gut them. I just wantedyou to know they're using me now. Whatever you hear from me will be what theywant you to hear. I have to go. I don't want them to suspect I've slipped theleash. Tell the General."

"You've got more guts than I do. You find out where they're holding your son, let us know. We'll hit them and get him out. Then send you out of town."

Naszif nodded. "I will. "He went downstairs, out the side door, and ran all the way home, where he found a shivering Reyha waiting in his bed. "Did you see him, Naszif?"

"Yes."

"How was he? Was he all right?"

"He was clean and well dressed and looked well fed. He seemed healthy. They wouldn't let me talk to him. He didn't know I was there. He's all right except for being scared."

"What are we going to do, Naszif?" "We're going to do whatever they tell us to do. For now."

The Witch waited only till Torgo told her that Azel and his companion had cleared the Postern of Fate. She told the eunuch, "I'm going to go have an unfriendly chat with our ally, General bel-Karba." "My lady, I don't think ..."

"That's right, Torgo. You don't. Because I don't want you to. You understand?"

"Yes, my lady."

"I won't be gone long. Get that child ready. I'll do him when I get back."

"But ..."

"I'm strong enough, Torgo. I don't need to rest. Get on with your business and let me get on with mine."

She watched the eunuch depart, then gathered her skirts and headed for the Postern of Fate.

She had not been out into the city since the conquest. It seemed littlechanged, except that the night was more quiet. The Herodians had stilled therowdy darknesses that had stemmed from the citadel and the mouth of Gorloch.

She slipped out of the naked openness of the acropolis and headed down CharStreet, into the inevitable night fog. She made no more sound than the fogitself, and felt no more fear. There was nothing in Qushmarrah more dangerousthan its Witch.

She came to the General's door. She paused. She sensed only the one enfeebledspirit within. The door was not barred.

Only someone supremely confident of his power would lie sleeping behind anunbarred door in the Shu.

She invited herself inside.

"Hadribel? Are you back already?"

A light sleeper. She stepped into the room where he lay. "No, General. NotHadribel. Someone you don't want to see at all. Someone who did not want tocome see you. But someone sufficiently tired of your lapses in regard torecognition of who is ruler and who is ruled that she felt compelled to comemake the point clear."

The General met her gaze without flinching. He grunted. That grunt seemed tocall her a damn fool woman.

"You had your creature Azel threaten me."

He looked at her a moment, then snorted. "My creature? Azel? Azel is nobody'screature but his own. He carried my message, yes, and it doesn't seem to havegotten garbled. He did his job. But if he were to surrender to his prejudicesI suspect there's only one person who could touch his heart. That person ishere and it isn't me, woman."

"You dared to presume to control me, General."

"I have a duty to Qushmarrah and my lord Nakar. Your obsessive behaviorimperils the recovery of both. Go back to the citadel, woman. Examine thechildren already in your power and leave the city alone. If you press it toomuch it will turn on us all. None of us will get what we want."

"You don't understand. None of you do. You never have. I don't give a damnabout Qushmarrah. I never have. I wouldn't care if it sank beneath the sea. Iwant my husband back. I'll do whatever it takes. And I won't let anyone get inmy way. Not even you. Do you understand me?"

"I understand that Azel allowed his secret passion to cloud his reason, afterall. His report on your obsession fell short of the truth. Go back to thecitadel, woman. Be at peace with your heart. Be patient. Or you'll destroy usall."

"No. No. I'll destroy only those who try to hinder me." She smiled.

"What?" He tried to rise, suddenly, at last, aware that he was in danger.

"This is where the alliance ends, General." A web of dark sorcery dancedplayfully on the fingers of her left hand. She laid her palm upon his chestand pressed down. He fell back with a little cry, body spasming. She turnedand went out, pleased with herself.

She had taken only two steps uphill when she heard footsteps approaching. Sheturned and drifted downhill ahead of them.

The footsteps ended at the General's house.

She had cut it close.

She drifted downhill a little farther, meaning to cut across and head backuphill on the far side of the street, where the fog would hide her from anyexcitement that exploded from the General's household.

She froze, loosing a little bleat of surprise.

It was as faint as the breath of the sea a dozen miles in from the shore. But it was there and not forgotten, the faintest aroma of the misplaced soul. Shecould not help herself. She drifted to the street-side door, leaned herforehead and one forearm against it, and let the proximity of it wash overher.

Tears streaked her cheeks.

A door slammed up the street. Somebody ran into the fog cursing under hisbreath.

Nogah leaned against the wall of Tosh Alley, a few steps inside, and watchedChar Street sleepily. He was not comfortable. There were few fogs like this atthe Dartar compound. He did not like the clammy feel it gave the air, the wayit limited visibility. It made this no decent place to be.

The scrapings and whispers and sometimes hints of far lights back in the mazedid nothing to buoy a man's confidence, either.

Fifty warriors were not enough to hold anything. Fa'tad knew that as well ashe did. They were a token, clinging to the dozen most important toeholds. Theycould be dislodged anytime the labyrinth creatures cared to make a concertedeffort.

Fa'tad was convinced there was little concert among them, despite apocryphaltales of the maze being ruled by a sort of king of the underworld. If Fa'taddisbelieved that, did he also disbelieve the stories of great treasurescollected by the people of the maze, of another labyrinth of natural cavernsinside the hill that supported the Shu, with mouths deep in the heart of thebuilded maze?

Mo'atabar thought al-Akla was looking for those, thinking they would provide away for him to sneak into the citadel and loot its reputed treasures. If thosewere half what was claimed, with them in hand the Dartar force could retirefrom the Herodian service and the tribes would never need fear the bite of the drought again.

Was that at the back of Fa'tad's mind? Nogah wondered. It did not seem quite the Eagle's style.

Something moved in the fog. He became alert. Then he gaped. He'd never seensuch a woman. Her beauty hit him like a physical blow. He eased forward, towatch her on her way. As a barely discernible shape she paused several minutesat the door to the place where Yoseh's little doe lived, then vanished intothe mist.

He wondered about his brother's injuries momentarily, then his thoughtsreturned to the woman. Had he seen a ghost? She had not made a sound. Butgods, what a lovely spook, if ghost she was.

Hadribel sensed something amiss the moment he stepped through the doorway. Hestopped.

There was a ghost of a hint of a scent on the air, vaguely feminine. He lookeddown. The apparently randomly distributed set of four dust bunnies, laid outaccording to bel-Sidek's instructions, had been disturbed. Oh. Of course.

Carza.

But he had relayed the instructions. Carza was not the sort to forget.

He shut the door and hurried to the bedroom.

"Sir? Sir? Are you all right?" he asked, though he knew better the moment helaid eyes on the old man. He was a soldier. He knew death intimately, in allits guises.

The impossibility of it held him for a moment. Then the enormity of thedisaster to the movement bore down on him.

The General gone! That indomitable will, that steadfast genius, lost forever.

Bel-Sidek was a proven field commander, a fine tactician, steady as a mountainin a storm, and the chosen successor, but the man lacked the magnetism, theability to fire the heart and imagination, that had marked the life of Hannobel-Karba.

Even so, bel-Sidek had to be made aware of the disaster immediately. Much hadto be done, and fast, if the movement was not to stumble over this terriblemoment. He forced leaden legs to take him out the door. Unaware that he wasdoing so, he cursed the Fates as he stamped along.

Bel-Sidek felt the recriminations seethe inside him, along with the pain, theloss, the anger, the embarrassment over having been found where he had beenfound with Meryel. He restrained it all. He could not afford to yield at thismost critical hour in the history of the Living. What he did this day woulddetermine whether the struggle continued or the movement collapsed. He had todeal with issues, problems, and people entirely in the light of cold reason.

He paused before the door to the place he had shared for six years with a man who had meant far more to him than ever his own father had. "Send for Carza, then join me here," he told Hadribel. "Tell your messenger he is to accept noexcuses or delays."

"What about the others?"

"After Carza gets here. I want to talk to him first." He pushed inside, leftHadribel to his assignment.

He sniffed. He did not catch the scent Hadribel had detected, but there hadbeen time for it to fade.

In the interim between Hadribel's arrival and Carza's departure could a womanhave come in? Absurd! But why not?

What woman? To what purpose?

He willed himself into the bedroom.

The old man seemed smaller and more frail in death. He looked as though he haddied angry. No. Not angry. Bel-Sidek knew that look. He had died exasperated.

Which suggested that the visitor, if visitor there had been, had been someoneknown to him.

The bedclothes were tousled as though he had wrestled his fate beforesuccumbing. His nightshirt was partly open, revealing sickly yellow skin and ... the edge of something black.

Bel-Sidek eased the dirty cloth back, using one finger.

A black handprint marked the old man's chest, over his heart. It was a daintyprint, too big for a child but too small for a man. Bel-Sidek stared at it along time.

It was a bad, bad omen. Because if it was what it looked like, the mark of akiller, they all had cause to be very, very troubled.

He had not seen this particular mark before, but he had seen its like. Thatrecalled the killing touch of a sorcerer. Marks of that sort had been found oncorpses often before the conquest, but not since. Cado and his henchmen hadforbidden the practice of sorcery.

Bel-Sidek knew of no black magicians being in the city on the sly. He hadheard of no witches but that one the new civil governor had brought along.

Her? Unlikely. Had the Herodians known where to find the General they wouldnot have chosen quiet murder. The end of the chieftain of the Living wouldhave been a public spectacle a match for those of olden times, before the morepeaceful Aram had dispelled the savage Gorloch.

He sat at the writing table while he awaited Carza, reviewing everything thatwould have to be done to ease the transition and keep the movement on itsfeet. His thoughts brushed the General's secret and special agent, passed on, came back again. If the man was half what the General had believed, he mightbecome the Living's instrument of retribution in this.

But later. Vengeance had to await stability.

Carza entered without knocking. He had not slept and was not in a good mood.

As he started to bitch, bel-Sidek pointed him toward the bedroom. "Oh, I'll be damned," Carza said. "When?"

"Between the time you left and the time Hadribel came back. Assuming he was all right when you left." "He was healthy and mean as a boar. Why?"

"Did you arrange the telltales the way Hadribel told you?"

"You know I did."

"I assumed. I had to hear it. They weren't arranged when Hadribel got here." Bel-Sidek pulled the old man's nightshirt open again. "Any ideas?" Carza stared at the print. He shook his head, muttered, "Did he see it coming?"

"What?"

"He had me come over to tell me about this big operation he had going for Qushmarrah. Just in case. So there'd be somebody to keep it going."

"What was it?"

Carza shook his head. "I can't say. He was firm about that. Don't tell bel- Sidek anything. I'm supposed to take over that one thing and you the rest of the organization. He was right about it but the only way I could show you would be to tell you." Bel-Sidek did not argue. No point. Instead, he decided to define the time gap in which the murder had taken place.

It could have been ten minutes or it could have been thirty. Carza could not be exact about when he had departed. Hadribel arrived looking harassed. "I got messages off to the others," he said. "It's going to be light out soon."

They can be grieving relatives," bel-Sidek said. "We've been setting it up that way." Carza said, "You won't be able to get hold of Zenobel."

"Why not?"

"The old man sent him out ... Hell. No need to keep it secret. You have to deal with the consequences."

Bel-Sidek asked, "What?"

"The new civil governor sent men to throw the widow out of her house so he could have it. The old man sent Zenobel to throw them out."

"Aram! Is that what he calls letting them think we're falling apart?"

"It had to be done."

"I realize that. But ..."

Hadribel beckoned bel-Sidek. "Can I talk to you privately?"

Bel-Sidek left Carza scowling. He did not like being shut out, either. Near the hearth bel-Sidek asked, "What?" While he was there he started a fire for breakfast.

"While I was out rounding up messengers I got a few reports from the street.

The Darters left men in the maze overnight last night. And last night, while we had the traitor out on some sort of exercise, his wife left the house. The man on watch lost her in the fog. In this part of Char Street. A man brought her home later, a few minutes before the traitor returned." "What the devil was he doing?" "I don't know. The old man had me blindfold him and take him up to Scars Comer. Somebody else took him over there. I ran off on other errands."

"We'll talk to the woman. Though she wouldn't seem a likely candidate."

The Witch summoned Torgo from his repose. "I have to see Ishabal bel-Shaduk. Do you know how to reach him?"

"Yes, my lady. But why?"

"I have a commission for him."

"I suspect that Ishabal agrees with Azel. He just doesn't want to argue. He hasn't been around."

"Find him. Tell him he can name his price on this one. It'll be the last."

"My lady?"

"I found him, Torgo! I think. I stumbled right over him in Char Street, while I was out. It's almost over with, Torgo. We're almost there."

Torgo did not seem pleased.

"Three, four more days, Torgo. Things will be back to the way they were. Come. Why so glum?"

"I'm afraid we're doing too much to attract attention to ourselves."

"Foo! I'm surrounded by old women. Get your writing instruments. I'll give you the instructions you're to relay to Ishabal. Then we'll examine the boy theLiving want, just to make sure he wasn't Ala-eh-din Beyh in his lastincarnation."

"Why bother, my lady?"

"Azel will come for him. I don't want him or the Living to suspect what I'veaccomplished on my own. It'll take Ishabal a while, anyway, so I won't lose much time. And once we're sure we have what we need, we won't have any more use for Azel or the Living. Will we?"

She watched Torgo mull that over, begin to smile. "We won't at all. Not at all." "So let's get to work. Get your writing materials."

Aaron left home groggy and distracted, unsure how he felt about Reyha's visit and revelations. He was concerned for Reyha and Zouki, yet resented this ominous certainty that a vortex of events, to which he was indifferent, was sucking him in, making him a blind player in a deadly game where there was no chance he could win or even get out unscarred.

What was all that up around bel-Sidek's place? Comings and goings like he'd never seen.

He turned uphill instead of heading for the harbor.

Bel-Sidek's door stood open. He paused on the threshold, not quite sure what he was doing there or if his interest would be welcome.

Bel-Sidek saw him and limped to the doorway. "Yes, Aaron?"

"I saw all the people. I thought ... Is it your father?"

"Yes. During the night.

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"It isn't like it was a surprise. Maybe it was a blessing. He had to live with a lot of pain." "Maybe. Is there anything I can do? Could Laella and her mother come up and help?"

"No. No, Aaron. We'll manage. Thanks for offering."

"I'm sorry," Aaron said again. "Well, I guess I'd better get to work."

"Yes. Thanks again. Oh. Aaron. Did Naszifs wife drop in on you last night?"

"No." He answered immediately, surprising himself. He walked away before there were any more questions, wondering if he had been protecting Reyha or himself.

Only when he was halfway down the hill did he realize that he should have stood his ground long enough to find out why bel-Sidek had asked. General Cado dressed while Colonel Bruda reported his midnight visit from Vice-Colonel bar bel-Abek. "Did he seem rational? I wouldn't want to waste him. Should we pull him out whether he wants it or not?" "He was completely self-possessed. And quite determined. I don't think he's at risk as long as they think they control him. Leave him where he is. They might get overconfident and let him close to something they shouldn't." Cado grunted. "Time to see Sullo off to his new country home. Let's talk on the way. Did you look into the kidnapping?"

"I did. If it weren't that it's being used against our man, it would be just another of a rash of similar crimes."

Cado descended a stair without speaking, headed toward his work office. "A

rash? Of kidnappings?" "More than thirty in the last six weeks."

"The Living twisting arms?"

"I doubt it. Hardly any of the children belonged to families who mean anything. However, there's a chance bel-Abek's child was taken before the Living found him out."

"Suggesting that the Living knew who took him? So they were able to recover him for their own purposes?" "Yes."

Cado completed his office business, started moving again. "I smell something dirty, Bruda. Look into it. We can't allow a trade in stolen children. And I won't tolerate human sacrifice."

"I've started already, sir."

"Good. Are the guards down front?"

"Yes sir. They'll walk us over."

"Good. So. What's really bothering you this morning?"

"A messenger from Marcellino in Agadar. Just came in by boat. Says a force of Turok tribesmen, maybe two thousand strong, is pillaging east of Agadar, moving our way. They caught our troops in the open, by surprise, during anexercise, and slaughtered them. Marcellino barely has men enough left to guardAgadar's walls."

Cado stopped. "Turoks? Not Dartars or Dartars in disguise?"

"Turoks. Marcellino questioned a prisoner. They circled the Takes to the west, around Dartar territory. They think we're too slow and too weak to stop them."

Cado resumed walking. "Turoks, you say."

"Yes."

"I wonder. Did our comrade the Eagle have anything to do with them showing up?"

"I don't follow you. Dartars hate Turoks. And vice versa."

"Not always. Turoks sometimes visit Qushmarrah. They cross Dartar territory to do it, so there is some kind of understanding at some level. And they workedtogether in our grandfathers' time, during the first war. Qushmarrah employedauxiliaries from both tribes against Lepido's armies. Their fleet landed amixed force in Tiguria that came within sight of Herod's walls twice. Fa

"tad's father commanded that expedition."

"You sure you aren't seeing conspiracy where greed would explain things?"

"Probably. Still, the options the raiders leave us aren't attractive."

"So?"

"The obvious move is for us to loose our Dartars. But suppose they are workingtogether? Fa'tad strips the country of livestock and valuables and retires tohis mountains. We couldn't do anything, because to field enough men we'd haveto strip Qushmarrah of every Herodian soldier.

"If we send one of our own legions instead, Fa'tad is a match for us here. Hecan attack us with every expectation of initiating an uprising. He can thenback off and let Qushmarrahans do his dying while he saves his people toplunder whatever is left.

"If we don't do anything but wait for the Turoks to go home we get unresteverywhere this side of the sea because we haven't kept our promise to protectthe people. Over on the other side we're in hot water because we haven'tprotected their property."

They were outside now, moving through the dawn-splashed acropolis. Ahead, acolumn of Dartars came out of the Hahr and crossed the heights to the Shu.

Cado wondered what they were up to but did not ask. Bruda would tell him assoon as he found out.

Bruda said, "It all depends on what's going on inside the head of the onecrazy old man, doesn't it?"

"We have to trust him. Whether he's trustworthy or not. And hope he won'tchange his colors again without at least as much provocation as he had lasttime."

They approached the Residence, practically passing through the shadow of thecitadel. Cado shuddered. The place still gave him the creeps.

Bruda said, "Fa'tad started his herd moving south yesterday."

Cado watched Sullo's army of servants load a train of carts and wagons. "Itwas time, wasn't it?" A flashy donkey cart, carrying a large brown trunk, rolled up and worked its way into a gap in the line. The boy drivingdismounted and walked up the line to talk to another driver.

"Yes," Bruda admitted.

"Then we can't account that an omen. Even if it is one."

"Not really."

"And here comes Sullo, timing his appearance perfectly."

Sullo did appear at the top of the Residence steps just as Cado reached theirbase. The civil governor came down slowly, in all his portly glory, beaming ateveryone as though bestowing the benediction of God. He greeted Cadoeffusively. Servants scurried, trying to impress with their diligence.

Sullo's eye fell on the donkey cart. "What's that?" he asked one of his companions. The man shrugged.

"General Cado. I assume those pigeon tracks on the banner on that cart pass for writing here. What does it say?" Cado shrugged. "Colonel Bruda?" Cado did not read Qush-marrahan. Bruda squinted, translated slowly. "'From the people of Qushmarrah, for the Governor Sullo, in appreciation, a gift.'"

Cado and Bruda frowned uncertainly. Sullo pranced over to the cart, shoved his bulk against its side, unlatched the trunk.

Colonel Bruda said, "Governor, you'd better let someone else ..."

Too late. Sullo tossed the trunk lid back.

The fat man rose on his toes. He stiffened. A gargling, strangled sound ripped out of his throat. He turned, his face white with horror. He vomited, then ran for the Residency, pausing to vomit twice more before he disappeared.

Cado looked into the trunk. "The heads of the Moretians he sent to evict the old woman." "Welcome to Qushmarrah, indeed."

Try to find the boy who delivered the cart."

"Waste of time."

"I know. Make a showing. I'll go try to keep him from doing anything else stupid." But Sullo was not on Cado's mind as he mounted the steps of the Residency. He thought he saw a way to ease the perils of responding to the Turok incursion.

Azel dozed in the shadows by the empty fireplace, not as unalert as he appeared. He cracked an eyelid when the limping man came in. The man talked to Muma instead of passing a message. Muma looked surprised. After an exchange the gimp nodded and hobbled outside. Muma fished a son out of the kitchen, yakked at him, sent him out the back way. He poured himself a draft of hot tea, added a dollop of honey, came to join Azel. "Another message?"

"A little off the usual."

"I saw you jump. What is it?"

"The palm sparrow has flown."

Azel sat up. "The old boy croaked?"

"That's what it means. That one wants to talk to you as soon as he can."

"I'd rather leave town. But I suppose I have to. He's the one the old manpicked to take over."

"Maybe we all ought to leave town."

"Just when it's getting interesting?"

"Just when it's getting deadly."

Muma's son came back. He nodded. All clear. Azel rose, stretched, went out theback way. He caught up with the limping man. As he passed, he said, "At theParrot's Beak," and went ahead.

He picked himself a good perch and waited, flipping pebbles at the morningpigeons grazing on the leavings of evening picnickers. When the shadow fellupon him he suggested, "Pull up a seat, Khadifa."

The cripple eased himself down.

"I'm Azel. I worked for the old man, special. I guess I work for you now.

Them's his orders, anyway. So he finally went and did it, huh?"

"He did it, Azel. But he had help."

"What?" That caught him as much by surprise as had the pursuit of the Dartarsin the labyrinth.

"We believe he was murdered. By witchcraft." The gimp gave him details. "Iwant you to view the body. See if you concur. Then I want you to find thewoman who did it."

"A woman? You're sure?"

"No. Of course not. But once you come see the body you'll understand ourpresumption."

Azel shifted uneasily. "It's still in Char Street? I had word from the old manyesterday to stay out of Char Street. Dartars are up to something there, watching everybody like hawks, stirring things up. I been in and out too muchlately, all the special jobs he wanted done. What you doing with the body?

Moving it somewhere?"

"He had property in the country. His wife still lives out there. We're takinghim there later."

"I know the place. I'll show up somewhere along the way. You going outyourself? We got a lot to talk about and this ain't the best place."

"You're right. It isn't. Maybe out there, day after tomorrow. I can get awaywith breaking routine today because my father died and there are things youhave to do on a day like that. Unfortunately, I'll actually have to spend mostof my time doing those things. Tomorrow I'll have to get back to my normalroutine or there'll be questions."

"You ought to find some way to stop working," Azel said. "Ain't no way beingboss of the whole damned outfit ought to be a part-time job."

"I have to eat."

Azel snorted. The man was a damned fool, seduced by the imaginary value ofappearances. Who the hell was watching him? Bet he wasn't no hand-to-mouth daylaborer before Dak-es-Souetta. "You going to make any big changes? Or just goahead the same old way?"

"No changes. That I foresee. Maybe after I'm more familiar with everything theorganization is doing. I wasn't in on everything."

Azel snorted again. The guy was right there. The old man had thought him waytoo soft to follow through on some of the hard things that had to be done. Butthe best successor, anyway, overall. Go figure that.

The man asked, "How did you come to meet the General?"

"In temple. Long time ago. Look, I got stuff to do. Anything you want I shoulddo right away? Besides try to find who did the old man?"

"I'd like to find out what the Dartars are up to in the Shu."

"You and half the world. I'll look you up if Fa'tad comes around andconfesses." Azel rose, walked away before the new General could drag it outany more.

He seemed a little too passive to boss such a bloodthirsty outfit.

Azel strolled up toward the citadel, stroking the place with idle butthoughtful glances. A woman killer, eh? And who might talk herself intothinking she had a reason?

He was passing the Residence, where for some reason they had a guard laid onthat looked like half a legion, when by chance he glanced back and in thedistance saw someone who looked like the eunuch Torgo. By the time he got backthere without attracting attention he was unable to pick the man up again.

Yoseh sighed when Nogah left the alley where he had spent the night. Word hadswept the column already: it had been a bad night for those who had stayed inthe city. As many as a dozen might have been killed. More had been injured.

It would get worse, Yoseh was sure. He wished he knew what Fa'tad was doing.

Last night there had been talk about hidden caverns, fabulous treasures, evena secret tunnel leading into the citadel. Everybody knew about the wealthaccumulated in the citadel. If he could lay hands on that, Fa'tad could kissQush-marrah good-bye.

"Are you all right?" Yoseh asked as he dismounted.

"Just tired," Nogah said. "We were lucky here. It was quiet all night-exceptwhen the most beautiful woman in the world came past, on her way to visit yourgirlfriend's house."

"What?"

"No. She didn't actually visit. That was weird. She just stood outside the door for a while."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. I'm in love. I'm not supposed to make sense."

"You're doing a great job." "There any special news?"

"No. Fa'tad started the herd south yesterday. He's going all out against the maze today. That's it." "You want to go in today?"

Yoseh glanced down the street. Right now that door was closed.

"Don't want to miss a chance, eh? All right. I can understand that. I'm in love myself. Going to sit out here today looking for mine, too."

"That'll make Medjhah happy. He's got one picked out, too."

Nogah grunted, glanced around. "This crowd, we'll need more than two men to mind the animals." '

There was a crowd. Close to forty men today, to work this one access. And another dozen to go up and walk the rooftops in search of additional entrances to the maze. The street was pure chaos as Dartar numbers tried to move amidst normal morning traffic. The animals would create a choke point filling half the street. And it would get worse when the masons came later.

Dartars poured into the maze or clambered to the roofs. Nogah directed traffic. Medjhah planted himself in his usual spot and watched his brotherstry to crowd the animals into a more compact arrangement. The camels were notinclined to cooperate. Qushmarrahans passing by cursed liberally but werecareful to confine their invective to the hump-backed beasts.

"How are your scrapes and bruises?" Nogah asked.

"They ache. And I'm stiff all over."

"Good thing I didn't send you in there, then. It might get nasty today."

"I think Fa'tad is going to leave a whole gang in here tonight. Five hundred, maybe even a thousand."

"He's gone crazy. The ferrenghi will have convulsions."

"Maybe that's what he wants. If it's all some kind of game with General Cado."

Nogah grunted. Yoseh could see he did not, really, want to bother trying to figure it out.

Same with Medjhah. Hell. Medjhah did not care at all. He just lived from day to day and tried to enjoy what life handed him.

"Hell with these beasts. They won't crowd up any more." Nogah went and foundhimself a seat. After a while, he dozed.

Yoseh settled with the same intention, but remained too conscious of that doordown the street. After a while, Medjhah began his singsing "Come closer."

Yoseh noticed that the tall woman was alone this time and much more bold with her taunting hips.

A while later still, he noticed men across the street, watching.

Ferrenghi spies? Probably. Cado's men hanging around the edges to see whatthey could dig out of the shadows.

Then came the messengers, moving grimly down toward the harbor, and later allthe captains heading uphill, faces blank, without a word to the men.

He heard it from the veydeen first. Overheard it as the news spread likeflashfire. Turok raiders were pillaging the territories between Agadar andQushmarrah. The Agadar garrison had been cut to pieces. The survivors wereholed up in the city.

There were a few Dartar auxiliaries at Agadar. How had they fared?

The veydeen looked like they wanted to work themselves into a panic. Like theyfelt defenseless. He was willing to bet that they had not gotten this excitedwhen they had heard that Herod's armies were approaching.

Then he began to get a glimmer. They feared chaos. They feared Cado wouldmarch out and leave the city open to destructive insurrection. An uprising bythe few would bring reprisals down upon the many, sure as sundown.

He looked down the street at that door. Still nothing. Were they all dead inthere? He glanced skyward. A few tall clouds lumbered toward the gulf. Wouldit ever rain again?

Even here on the coast it did not rain as much as once it had. And Qushmarrahneeded a good rain, to sluice out the accumulated filth and stench.

The spies, or whatever, disappeared. The woman who interested Medjhahreturned, flaunting herself again. The veydeen were blind, so preoccupied werethey with gossip about Turoks.

"Watch this little pigeon fly away," Medjhah said, laughing. He strolledtoward the tall woman, who did look alarmed and did hurry. Medjhah kept onwalking after her.

For a while Yoseh amused himself by trying to kill a fly that had developed adetermination to nest inside his nose. Once he had won that contest he did manage to doze.

"Hey! Yoseh! Wake up! Look what we got for you."

He jerked awake. The boy Arif stood before him, smiling shyly. His littlebrother was with him, holding his hand, which he dropped when Yoseh opened hiseyes. The little one headed for the nearest camel.

The girl Tamisa was behind the boys, carrying something. Behind her, in thedoorway, wearing a ferocious scowl, was the old woman. The other daughter, theolder sister and mother of the boys, elbowed past her and carried a pot to thecenter of the street. She dumped it through a stone grate into the seweragechannel that ran there, went back into the house. She never looked at theDartars at all.

"Good morning, Arif." Agan Yoseh worked hard on his dialect. He only glancedat the girl but his cheeks got hot. He was intensely aware of Nogah watchingthrough scantly cracked eyelids. "How are you today?"

"Mish brought you dinner. She made it herself. Dad said it was all right." Theboy plopped down beside him.

The girl stood there blushing. Yoseh wanted to tell her to do something butdid not know what. He made an uncertain gesture. She took it as an invitation, settled onto a bundle at a very correct distance, sat formally upright witheyes on what she held in her lap.

The boy bubbled, "Did you hear about the Turoks, Yoseh? Are you going to gofight them?"

"Yes, I heard, Arif. I don't know if I'll have to go. I suppose someone will."

The girl said, "Mother thought you'd go. That's why she said I could bringthis out now." She offered, so he had to take the bundle. "Are you all right?

After the way they knocked you around yesterday ..."

"I'm fine. Just a few bruises."

"That's good."

Yoseh glanced at the old woman. She had taken her place outside the door withher mending, daring traffic to trample her. All along Char Street the regularswere out, refusing to let the Dartar presence disturb ancient routine. Heopened the bundle, saw nothing really familiar. He tried a few nibbles, foundeverything mouth-watering. "This is great. But there's way too much here forme. Mind if I share with my brother?"

"No. That's all right. Go ahead."

"Nogah. Come help me with this."

As Nogah approached, the girl realized he was not Medjhah. "How many brothersdo you have?"

"Three. Medjhah and Nogah right here and Amar, who is a troop leader inQuadideh's company."

Nogah settled, went to tasting, nodded pleasantly. "This is excellent. What isyour friend's name, Yoseh?"

"Tamisa."

"You're a very good cook, Tamisa."

She blushed. "I got a lot of help from Laella and my mother."

"Even so, yours was the hand in control." With nothing at risk Nogah couldassume the burden of conversation. Yoseh mostly listened. So did Arif, withbig, serious eyes, while the little one, Stafa, clambered all over asurprisingly patient camel. Yoseh saved him from a fall and set him on hisfeet. He marveled that these children of Qushmarrah were so well fed.

Dartar children, even now, were little more than bags of bones living on theedge of starvation.

Nogah got the girl to relax. Once she did, she turned into a chatterer. Someof her preoccupations seemed pretty shallow, though.

Arif grew bored. Looking disappointed in his new friend, he began wanderingaround looking at animals^ weapons, and supplies.

Nogah asked Tamisa, "Who was the woman who came to your door during the night?

I've never seen a woman so beautiful."

"Reyha? Beautiful?" Tamisa laughed. "She's an old hag. She must be at leastthirty." Then her eyes grew big. She looked worried. She had said somethingshe should not have.

"Maybe we're talking about different women. Come to think of it. The one I sawjust stood outside your door for a few minutes."

Yoseh asked, "Is Reyha the one whose son was taken here?"

Tamisa nodded. "She and my sister have been friends all their lives. They evenhad Arif and Zouki the same day. She came because she was having trouble withher husband."

Yoseh said, "I've seen this Reyha, Nogah. If it's her you fell in love withlast night you'd better worry about how fast you're going to go blind."

Nogah chuckled. "It doesn't matter who she was. She was that kind of woman youonly see once, for a moment, and never again, but remember all your life."

"Ach! You're starting to sound like Father."

"I'm his son and heir. You two go ahead and talk." He got up and went and gothis horse onto her feet. He hoisted the veydeen boys onto her back. Arifbecame frightened and wanted down. Stafa was as happy as a child his age couldbe.

Tamisa asked, "How does your brother know somebody came to our house lastnight, Yoseh?"

He reflected. It wasn't exactly a secret around here, was it? "He spent thenight in the alley so nobody could get in or out of the maze."

"Oh."

"More of us are going to stay tonight. I know I am."

"Oh. Oh." Flustered. "I think I'd better get back to my chores. Before mymother ... Arif. Stafa. Come on. It's time to go."

Yoseh sat there wondering if he'd said something wrong.

Aaron had been distracted all morning. Not enough to make mistakes but enoughto slow him down. Cullo had commented, not unkindly, expressing a genuineconcern. Aaron had not been able to shake it.

Billygoat sat down beside him as he started on his lunch. "Think it'll rain?

Looks like we got some clouds coming in."

Aaron grunted. It did not look like rain. Just clouds.

"City could use a good washdown."

Aaron grunted again.

"You ever notice the difference between men and dogs, Aaron? A dog comes toyou begging, you give him the sorriest scrap, he's properly grateful. A mancomes to you desperate, you try to give him a hand, four times out of five heturns on you. Makes the whole damned thing your fault. On the whole, I think Ilike dogs better than I like men."

His piece spoken, Billygoat got up to go.

"Wait," Aaron said. "Sit down. You're right. I'm sorry. I apologize."

Billygoat harumphed. "I reckon that means you got another problem to hit mewith and be ungrateful about later."

"No! Look, I said I'm sorry. The problem I had-it got solved, all right, butthen it didn't, either, really. It only made more problems."

"Yeah. That's the way she goes, most times. You hear about that child-stealergot caught over my way yesterday? Tried to grab a kid, got hisself chased downand stomped to death. That ought to ease your worries some."

"I heard. I also heard he used some kind of sorcery, same as the one who tookthe child where I live. And the Dartars were chasing that one up Char Streetalmost the same time the other was getting himself killed. If there're two ofthem maybe there're three or four or a hundred."

"I swear. You ain't going to be satisfied till your boy does get got. You livein Char Street. I come over Char Street this morning. You got two thousandDartars packed in there asshole-to-elbow. Who you think would be dumb enoughto try something with odds like that?"

"The Living might."

"Heh! We're getting around to something here, aren't we?"

Aaron told most of it, keeping the names out.

Billygoat listened. He thought. He said, "I figure they lied to him, not you.

Handy way to twist his arm. Anyway, what you worrying about it for? Ain't yourproblem. You're starting to get silly, like some of these fools around hereall in a panic because of some Turok bandits all the way around to the otherside of the gulf."

Aaron had not heard that news yet. He had to have the story told.

Bel-Sidek glanced around as he left his home. "It gets any thicker out herepeople will be climbing over each other."

Hadribel's men began forcing a way through the press.

"Gently," bel-Sidek told them. "Let's not attract attention." They werealready. Raheb Sayed had them fixed with her basilisk's eye.

"How will Cado respond?" Hadribel asked. The news about the Turoks had comeonly a moment before word that it was safe to approach the traitor's house.

What Hadribel really wanted to know was if this was likely to become anopportunity for the movement.

"No telling. That son of a whore is as crafty as Fa'tad, in his way. Wouldn'tsurprise me if he made the whole thing up just to see how everybody jumps.

We'll be very careful with General Cado."

"How can we get the old man out through this mess?"

"By investing heavily of patience, I suspect."

They crossed Char Street, entered an alleyway. Even there they faced foottraffic trying to beat the press on the artery. The walk took so long Hadribelfelt compelled to scout their destination again.

"Still safe," he concluded.

"Let's get it done." Bel-Sidek was uncomfortable with this. But he had toknow.

Hadribel hammered on the traitor's door. The woman responded. She looked atthem without recognition, uneasy but not frightened, as though used to findingstrange men at her door.

"My husband isn't here. You'll find him ..."

"I know," bel-Sidek said. "It's you we want to see." He pushed forward. Shehad to retreat or be trampled. Bel-Sidek, Hadribel, and two of Hadribel's menwere inside before she protested.

"Please relax," bel-Sidek said. "You're in no danger. We want to ask a fewquestions."

She looked for someplace to run. There was no place. They had taken all thoseaway. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The questions were predictable. Bel-Sidek had decided to answer them honestly.

"We are the Living. We want to know where you went last night."

She started shaking. She said nothing.

"One of our men was murdered last night. A very important man. My commander.

It was done by a woman. You were out and in that area. If you felt you had areason, if you suspected who the man really was ..."

Her eyes grew huge. Her mouth hung. She swung her head back and forth inlittle jerks. She tried to speak but could not force anything out.

"You didn't do it? How can we believe that? Where did you go?"

"I ... can't ... say."

"Why not?"

"Because you're evil, wicked men. You'd go terrorize people just becausethey're my friends."

"I don't intend debating relative morality or our duties to the city thatnurtured us. We believe we're right. We're convinced our ends are just. A heroof Qushmarrah was murdered in his bed. We mean to find the woman responsible.

If you're not guilty, show us."

The woman spat. "You haven't done enough to us already, have you? Youoverlooked one member of the family." She spat again. "To hell with you. Goahead. Kill me. You've taken away everything I have to live for, anyway."

Hatred fouled the air. Bel-Sidek was startled by the fever of it. "I'm notgoing to kill anyone. I don't think you did anything but go to Char Street tovisit your friend Laella. But my comrades want something more convincing thanmy guesses."

"What if I said I did go there?"

"I want to know what you told her and what or who you saw in the street, coming and going."

She sat down on the floor, against a wall. "You see? No matter what I tellyou, you won't be satisfied. You'll want more. And there'll be nothing in itfor me but pain. You want me to talk to you, give me my son back."

"I'd be tempted. If I had him. We don't make war on children. They aren'tresponsible for the crimes of their fathers."

The woman stared at him for half a minute, radiating hatred and disgust. Shespat again, directly at him. "You want me to believe and trust you, telling mea bald-faced lie like that? After you dragged my husband out last night toshow him that you do have Zouki?"

Bel-Sidek stepped back, told one of the men, "Don't mark her.

Hadribel." He took Hadribel aside. "Tell me what you did with the traitoragain."

Hadribel repeated his story.

"Did he see the boy?"

"She thinks so."

"The General said we'd pretend. I think I smell something. The old man had adark streak. It may have infected part of the movement. I want to know."

Hadribel scowled. He had worshipped the General, too. He did not want to thinkthe old man had done something less than perfectly righteous. "I'll see what Ican find out."

Bel-Sidek went to supervise the woman's interrogation.

She was damned stubborn. She would not talk.

Azel approached Government House reluctantly. He did not like having beensummoned.

The mechanism had existed for years but the Herodians had not used it before.

That disturbed him. Till he stepped inside Government House he thought aboutwalking away from it.

He was especially uncomfortable with the news about the Turok pillagers. Theywere a random element that could destabilize an already rattled situation.

The doormen wasted no time conducting him to Colonel Bruda, who took himstraight to General Cado. Cado said, "Thanks for coming. You heard about theTurok raiders at Agadar?"

"It's all anyone's talking about."

"Bad news gets around fast. How are people reacting?"

"Like they think the Turoks will ride in and sack the city."

Cado snorted. "In a moment I'll go downstairs to thrash out a plan for dealingwith them. I want you to.come along in case I need an opinion on how theQushmarrahan people will react."

"I don't like that. I'm a spy, not ..."

"You'll be a bodyguard again. No one there could compromise you. There'll bemyself and Bruda, senior officers from the legions, the civil governor, Fa'tadand his top men. You're my only touchstone with the Qushmarrahan in thestreet."

"Crap. You take me into a big-time meeting, one of those guys-probably thatnitwit lard-ass civil governor-will spot me on the street later and tell theworld, There goes that guy that hangs around with Cado pretending to be abodyguard.'"

"There's that risk. But indulge me, Rose. This will be tricky, balancing aresponse between Fa'tad, Sullo, and the Living. Have you heard what happenedto Sullo?"

"I guess not."

"He sent twenty Moretians to take over Hanno bel-Karba's country house yesterday. Today the Living sent their heads back in a trunk." "Really? A little last-gasp derring-do."

"I warned Sullo. He didn't listen. Watch him close. I may have to ask for a special favor soon. He's going to become an embarrassment." Azel grunted. "Watch Fa'tad, too. I have trouble reading him. Have any idea what he's up to in the Shu yet?"

Azel shrugged. "I've heard stories. I don't believe any of them."

"Tell me a few."

"There are caverns under the Shu. That's a fact. In some of the stories the bosses of the maze have filled those with stolen treasure and Fa'tad wants to grab that. In some other stories one of the caverns is a secret passage into the citadel, which Fa'tad plans to loot." "Are these fantasies?"

"I lived in the maze when I was a kid. I never saw no treasure and never heard of no secret passage. Which don't mean they ain't there. Nobody tells a kid nothing."

"Fa'tad thinks he's on to something. He has half his men on it today. You think he's learned something from the prisoners he's taken?"

Azel shrugged.

"I hear he's executed most of them."

"They ain't model citizens."

Cado shook a little silver bell. Colonel Bruda came in. "Sir?"

"I need Rose in a bodyguard costume. Rose, I'd be very grateful if you could find me even one of the men who did in Sullo's Moretians."

"They won't go around bragging."

"That's why there's still a group called the Living. But try."

The other children did not say much but they eyed Zouki in wonder. Some came to touch him quickly, lightly, as though hoping his luck would rub off.

Of all the children taken out of the cage he was the first to be returned.

But then the big man came again and Zouki knew that this time there would be no unexpected reprieve. This time they would do whatever it was they did with children.

Azel was in a foul mood when he entered Cado's meeting. He did not want to be there and he did not like holding his tongue the way he must. He thought a lot about getting out of town.

It was a nice fantasy but not one he took too seriously even though it seemedthe most intelligent course to follow.

Cado nodded to the men who rose to greet him. There were fifty or sixty. Theyranged to either side of a massive table six feet wide and twenty long toppedby a colorful miniature of the north coast from Ocean's shore to Aquira in theeast. Two thirds of the men were Herodian. They stood on the seaward side.

Opposite, Fa'tad al-Akla stood with his captains. Sullo had assumed positionat the far end of the table. He had an ugly female with him. She looked likeshe had gotten away from childhood just last week, but seemed less intimidatedby her surroundings than did Sullo.

His pet witch?

She had the smell. A strong one. She'd be a bad one in another twenty years.

Cado said, "You've heard the bad news. You've had time to think. I have anidea of my own but I'm open to any strokes of genius you've suffered.

Volunteers? No?"

Azel studied Sullo and his witch, uncomfortable because Fa'tad and several ofhis captains were eyeing him. He pretended not to notice, mimicking the sleepyindifference of his fellow guards while trying to catch everything he could.

Cado continued, "Colonel Bruda's people have put out markers on the mapshowing what we know, which is mainly that the Turoks are west of Agadar andmoving our way, staying near the coast. Colonel Bruda has dispatched scouts byland and sea but we'll have been in the field several days before we havetheir reports. Fa'tad, you think they've grown bold enough to violate Dartarterritory?"

One of the Dartars translated for the old warrior though he understoodHerodian perfectly. All part of the game, as was Cado's having ignoredFa'tad's honorifics. He barked an answer translated as, "Not if they hope toget home with their booty."

"I thought not. I presume plunder to be the object of their exercise. Theywon't want a real fight. I'm not spoiling for one, either. So we'll marchalong the coast in easy stages and chase them back the way they came. Fa'tad, I'll need fifteen hundred horsemen. I've already told General Lucillo he'll betaking twenty-five hundred from the Twelfth. I want you on the road as soon aspossible. As soon as naval vessels can be manned and loaded you'll haveoffshore support and supply.

"Four thousand plus naval support should be strength enough to chase theTuroks without us weakening ourselves here."

Right, Azel thought. Even left Cado a little stronger in respect to Fa'tad'sgang, just in case. But what was he up to sending out troops from the Twelfthunder orders from Lucillo, who commanded the Seventh Cadadasca? What was hesaving Marco for? If he was going to use the general from the Seventh, why notits men?

He grinned. Old Fa'tad was all pruned up as he tried to untangle the samequestions. And that pruning was probably the whole answer. A fillip to keep the Eagle wondering.

When the meeting broke up, Dartars would start scurrying around trying to findout if they had overlooked something about Lucillo.

Azel did not lead the sort of life that saw him sitting in on many militaryplanning sessions. He found they were not very exciting. After Cado announcedwho was going to send how many men, it was all pounds of food and fodder, would the temporary span in the Cherico bridge stand up to the passage of anarmy, could soldiers who had been in garrison too long make the march from theSahdri Well to Quadrat in one day or should they be issued an extra canteen?

Should artillery be taken? One faction insisted. Another said it would onlyslow them down because the ox teams could not keep up a fast pace. And soforth.

Cado settled the artillery debate by saying he would load the engines aboardship.

To Azel it seemed calm and professional and about as adventuresome asconversation amongst greengrocers. The Dar-tars did not say much, speakingonly in response to direct questions, which Azel supposed was the way it wassupposed to be, them being the hired hands.

Fa'tad kept an eye on him all the time.

The civil governor was all business, never saying a word. Azel did not learnanything about him.

He got the impression the ugly little witch was there doing what he was, sizing up the boss's enemies. She paid him no mind. Fa'tad made up for herindifference.

The man grew more obvious. Feeling for a reaction? Why? Had one of his gangrecognized the stable boy who had busted a guy up for running off at the mouthabout Qushmarrah?

Trouble with the whole thing was, Cado and Bruda were going to notice. No wayto stop it, though. Just ride it out, like a ship in a storm.

Then the confab was over. Cado hadn't consulted him once. He was pissed. Thatrisk for nothing.

Before sunset Joab and the Dartar elite, and Lucillo and his twenty-fivehundred, would be off to stalk the ferocious Turok. Tension in the city wouldsoar as everyone waited for the Living to try something because garrisonstrength was at low ebb.

Azel did not expect the Living to act. But a few fanatics might, and might setoff the explosion the old man had feared from the moment he had made his dealwith the Witch.

Qushmarrah might throw the yoke of Herod in a sudden savage uprising but therecould be no realistic hope of keeping its independence unless the flame ofrebellion scorched the entire coast or the Living came up with a weapon morepotent than the Herodian legions.

Nakar could be that weapon. Nakar the Abomination. Without Ala-eh-din Beyh to hold him in check.

He should not be thinking of that in Government House. Here he should remainthe perfect Herodian agent in thought as well as appearance.

The military men had begun moving out. Sullo had gone with his shadowinstrument. Cado and Bruda were whispering with Lucillo and Marco while Fa'tadeagle-eyed them from across the room. Cado suddenly bobbed his head and turnedaway, beckoned his bodyguards, stalked out of the room. He dismissed all ofthem but Azel immediately. "We didn't learn much from that, did we, Rose?"

"Found out the governor can keep his mouth shut when he wants."

"I guess you could call that a blessing. Yes."

"I need to get up on that balcony on the third level on the southwest corner.

To see what direction somebody goes when he heads out."

"All right." Curious. He did not ask who or why.

Damned man trotted along with him, picking at this and that like he was maybetrying to circle in on something. Whatever it was, it had Sullo near thebull's-eye. And it wasn't like he was hinting that something should happen tothe governor. He would come right out with that. No. It was like Cado's levelof trust had suffered ...

The damned Moretians! Of course. Cado had mentioned them to him. He had mentioned them to the General. The old man had had their heads chopped off.

Cado was asking himself how the Living had found out so fast and he didn'tlike one of the possible answers.

He would have to give Bruda something that would ease Cado's mind.

The Dartars did not scatter the way they should have. They paused out front, in a cluster, then moved into the streets west of Government House. Thestreets somebody exiting the side door would head for if he wanted to get outof sight quickly.

He could handle that. He'd just go out one of the public doors on the otherside, maybe drift down and see what bel-Shaduk was up to before he went outfor his look at what was left of the old man.

Meantime, Fa'tad deserved a tweak.

"One thing I did hear but didn't have a chance to check the rumor. Fa'tadsupposedly left a couple hundred men in the city last night, in the Shu maze."

"That's useful. You didn't mention it before."

"Didn't know if it was worth it. It's just a rumor I never got a chance tocheck. You want I should go ahead and figure how to set Sullo up? Or do youreckon you're going to get along?"

That did for the moment. Cado said of course Rose should be ready if a movehad to be made. Azel said he would do it and made his exit wishing Cado wasnot so interested in him. He'd rather deal with Bruda.

The sinkhole country looked better all the time. If there was a blowup, he wasgone till the dust settled.

Yoseh realized he had been chattering for hours.

Actually, once she got over her initial shyness the girl did most of thetalking. It was plain she did not get much chance to say what she thought athome. She offered him an ill-informed opinion on almost every subjectimaginable. Yoseh found himself smiling and nodding in agreement just to keepher there.

Medjhah finally came back. He wore a look of awe. He sat down beside Nogah, shook his head, said, "You wouldn't believe it. I don't believe it. And I wasthere."

"Fortune smiled upon you?"

"Fortune crawled all over me. If I'd wished for gold I'd be the richest man inthe world."

Nogah snorted derisively.

A pair of mason's helpers came out for more bricks. Yoseh wondered what washappening inside the labyrinth. It had been a quiet day. He had expectedexcitement but they had not brought out a single prisoner yet. Medjhah thoughtmaybe most of the villains had slipped out during the night. Nogah grumbledthat it was probably because the men he had sent in were loafing. Yosehsuspected the whole maze thing had been overrated and there had not been thatmany people in there to begin with.

Medjhah started playing catch with Arif, using an orange somebody had stolenfrom one of the groves beyond the compound. The boy was very inept, mostlybecause he was too afraid he would get hit. Yoseh thought his parents probablyprotected him too much. These veydeen all sheltered their children more thandid Dartar parents.

Mo'atabar came down the hill alone. Nogah went to talk to him.

Stafa tried to get into the game with his brother and Medjhah. His idea ofcatch was to grab the orange and scurry around among the animals laughing tillsomebody ran him down. Medjhah caught up, started to lift him, thought betterof it, set him down, and said, "Phew! This one needs to be changed."

Whereupon Stafa, still armed with the orange, headed for home yelling, "Mom!

I'm pooped!" Like he had not known perfectly well and been .too busy to bebothered.

Tamisa said, "I'd better go. Chores to do. Mother is going to be crabby enoughas it is. Arif, come on."

Yoseh said his farewells and watched them go. He had disappointed Arifseverely, he knew, being more interested in the girl than in him. But whatcould you do? How could you explain?

Mo'atabar went on down the hill. Nogah went back and sat down, preoccupied.

"What's up?" Medjhah asked.

"Joab. He's taking fifteen hundred men out to chase those Turoks."

That scaly thing inside Yoseh wakened and started wriggling.

"We going?"

"No. We're staying to play Fa'tad's game. He's taking all horsemen. He wants to hurry and get between the Turoks and the herd. Just in case."

Yoseh tried not to show his relief. There was nothing dishonorable about it but he did not want to admit that he had no taste for fighting and glory and riding around in the weather.

There were a few more clouds now. The veydeen did not seem excited so it seemed unlikely they would turn to rain. He wished it would rain.

The city was a madhouse. Troops were on the move, headed south to assemble outside the Gate of Summer, whence they would march before sunrise. Azel was not pleased by the dislocations. They made it difficult to be as cautious as he liked.

What about tomorrow, when the garrison was reduced? Would the Living's crazies make themselves heard? Something. From somewhere. He felt the first tingle of it. He did not like it because he had no idea from what direction disaster might strike.

He took position in sight of the place where Ishabal bel-Shaduk lived in the northern Shu. He watched for an hour. Several men visited. He recognized two as thugs. Guys who would do anything for money.

He had a notion what bel-Shaduk was doing. He did not like it. He'd thought bel-Shaduk possessed of better sense.

Gold and women had their ways of dribbling blindness into even a wise man's eyes. The day was getting on. If he wanted to get out the Gate of Autumn and back with plenty of time he'd better waste no more here.

He overtook the cavalcade moving the old man two miles east of the Dartar compound. The new gimp General told him to get up inside the covered wagon where the stiff lay. One look at that black print and he knew his suspicions were feet.

The damn woman had gone mad! She would set the city on fire.

And she didn't care. That was the hell of it.

He climbed out of the wagon, drifted back to walk beside the gimp on his donkey. A comedown for him. He'd probably ridden a purebred stallion out to Dak-es-Souetta. "I got an idea where to start looking."

"Where? Who?"

"I'll let you know if it comes out sure. Meantime, I got a suggestion. Burnthe old boy. Don't bury him."

"Immolation is a rite of Gorloch, not of Aram."

"How many people going to be involved in this, eh? All of them mourning thebeloved General. What chance you figure there is all of them will keep theirmouths shut about who, what, and where? Cado gets the word, he's going to havethe old boy dug up and paraded around."

"I'll think about it."

Dumb shit. He was asking for it. "You put some time in on the new governor andhis witch, too. There's something more there than meets the eye. Talk to youmore when we get together. I got something else I got to do right now."

He turned and headed west.

There was a lot of traffic on the road. Too much. How much had to do with the funeral? He checked faces. A few were familiar. He remembered them all. It was a habit he had, one he followed unconsciously sometimes even when he was awareof no need. Thus he noticed two particular faces among the inevitable beggarsand loafers inside the Gate of Autumn.

He had seen one for the first time not far from where Ishabal bel-Shaduk lived. He'd last seen the other in the halls of Government House.

So.

He did not lead them an interesting chase. He went to Muma's, where he spentthe afternoon and early evening eating, thinking, and carefully, laboriouslycomposing a long letter to General Cado. He entrusted that to Muma's youngest, a quickwitted urchin, and relaxed with some black-market beer before he wentout for the night's work.

Meryel guided bel-Sidek to a mound of cushions. "You look awful tonight. Ifyou'll pardon me saying so."

"I can pardon you anything if you can pardon me."

She looked at him curiously but did not pursue it while her servants came andwent with the courses of their meal. Then she asked. He told her about his day.

"Murdered? You're sure?" She did not seem interested in his conduct while questioning the traitor's wife.

"It seems more likely all the time. The trouble is, I can't see who would havegained by getting him out of the way."

"One of the fanatics, getting impatient?"

"No. They honored him too much. Besides, getting him out of the way just putsme in the way. Tonight I intend to name another moderate as my successor sothere's nothing to gain getting rid of me, either."

"Could it be the governor's witch getting even for what happened to hisguards?"

"Not unless she's one hell of a diviner. I think he died before they did.

Herodians would have taken him alive, anyway. Sullo laying hands on themastermind of the Living so soon after getting here would have been apolitical deathblow for Cado. There are people in Herod who want his head. Hesurvives because he's competent, he has several very powerful friends, and hehas the indulgence of the Living."

"Hubris?"

"Fact. We could cause trouble enough to get him taken out. If a Herodian mustrule here, we'd prefer General Cado. None of the likely replacements would beso kind to Qushmarrah. I'd better go. We have a lot to argue out."

Meryel rose with him. She said, "I have a few contacts among those who operateoutside anybody's law. I'll ask them if they've heard anything that might havesomething to do with the old man's death."

Bel-Sidek paused at the door. "All right. Also find out what they know about achild-stealing ring. And about a man named Azel." He slipped out, not at alleager to face what lay ahead. But they did have to decide who should take over in the Shu and who should takeover most of his own duties on the waterfront.

Too, he hoped to discover if there had been some dark side to the old manthat, in his love, he had been unable to see.

The Witch moaned, twitched uncontrollably. Her flesh was beyond her command.

All her will was bent upon the child, that stubborn brat.

Three times she had tried to breach the barrier of trauma. Three times she had been repelled. Never had she encountered such resistance. The previous lifemust have ended terribly.

She gathered her remaining reserves, feeble after half a day in trance. Onelast effort ... No matter. This could not be the one she sought. Azel couldhave him and welcome.

Her thoughts were not that clear. They constituted more an instinctual flowthan actual reasoning.

Once more she advanced upon the child's defenses. And this time found a tinycrack. She focused upon it, struck with all the remnants of her strength ...

And screamed. And screamed.

Terror squeezed her heart.

The soul on the other side was that of Ala-eh-din Beyh. It was not lost. Itwas not bewildered. It had been lying in ambush.

Torgo did not think. Instinct drove him. He plunged inside the tent, fistsflying. He knew what had happened without having to think it out.

He struck child and woman with powerful blows to the head. The shock broke thelink. The devil in the child tumbled back into the abyss. But it did notvanish completely. Torgo felt the power there.

The Witch's screams waned. She lapsed into a deep sleep, maybe a coma. Torgodestroyed the tent, killed the fire in the braziers, fanned fumes away. Tearsstained his cheeks.

Had he been fast enough?

She should have foreseen this. She should have trained him for this. In his ignorance all he could do now was watch and wait and hope that Gorloch wouldbe merciful and permit her return from that far darkness into which she hadfallen.

Power streamed from the child.

Outside, clouds began to gather.

Aaron entered the house and found the females all prickly and sullen. "Nowwhat?" He was not in the mood for it. Things had not gone well at work thatafternoon. The Herodians were sorting themselves out to line up behind thecivil or military governors and were trying to frustrate one another by givingconflicting orders to their Qushmarrahan employees.

Arif said, "Nana's mad at Mish because she took Yoseh some food."

Mish said, "You told me to do it."

"A damn fool idea, Aaron," Raheb said. "And you didn't have to behave like a trull, Tamisa." Laella snapped, "She did nothing of the sort, Mother. Tamisa, you shouldn't have spent all that time talking to him. It didn't look right."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear somebody talk who could say a whole sentence without cutting me down or bellyaching about something."

Point to Mish, Aaron thought.

Stafa said, "I ride horsy, Dad."

"You did? Arif, come here. Tell me what you and Stafa did today while Mom and Mish finish getting supper ready."

The women got the message.

It was not a world where women dared long exasperate even a man as gentle as Aaron.

He took Stafa into his lap and Arif under his right arm and they talked about camels and such till it was time to eat. The boys were exceptionally quietduring the meal. The women said nothing. He supposed he must be looking veryfierce. Maybe they were all waiting for some giving of the law. Let them stew.

He could use the quiet. It did not last, of course. But the women were not the instrument of its death.

There was, to his dismay, a tapping at the door. He was more dismayed when heopened it to find Reyha and Naszif outside. He stepped out of their way. Theycame in without saying anything. Both looked awful. Laella rose slowly, facepallid, as though some horror had come through the doorway with them. Laellaheld Reyha for a moment, then helped her sit down. Naszif settled beside her,, opposite Aaron. They looked one another in the eye, each knowing what theother knew. Mish moved the boys away.

Naszif said, "Reyha told you some things she would have been wiser to havekept to herself, as she learned today. She had a visit from the Living. Nowyou're in it, too, like it or not. The Living will be watching."

Reyha stared at her folded hands.

"She came to see you last night. This morning they came to see her. They knewshe'd come into Char Street but not where she'd gone. They wanted to knowthat, and who she'd seen, and what she talked about. They were insistent. Avery important man of theirs was murdered last night, here in Char Street, about the time she was out, and they think they have reason to believe a womanwas responsible."

"Bel-Sidek's father!" Aaron blurted.

"Eh?"

The old soldier who lives up the street."

"Khadifa," Raheb interjected.

Aaron scowled at her. "The old guy with the bad leg from Dak-es-Souetta. WhenI was going out to work this morning there were people at his house. I gotnosy and went up there. He told me his father died during the night. I wasn'tsurprised because the old man had been bedridden since they moved in."

"Bel-Sidek," Naszif mused. "That fits. He sounds like the man who visitedReyha. He had a bad leg. She'd seen him before but didn't recall who he was.

He knew all of us. He didn't really believe Reyha had done anything. Hethought she had come here to visit Laella. But he wanted to be sure."

Aaron was disturbed by the man opposite him. This was not the Naszif to whomhe was accustomed. This Naszif was calm, collected, in complete control, andaltogether too businesslike. He did not know what to make of the apparentchange.

Naszif continued, "Reyha can be very stubborn. She refused to tell themanything till they gave Zouki back."

"Which they refuse to do because they'd lose their hold on you."

"No. According to the crippled man they can't do that because they don't havehim in the first place."

"What?"

"Yes. Despite the fact that they took me to see Zouki last night, this morningone of them is denying that they have him. And I think he was sincere. If he'dhad that advantage he would have used it. On the other hand, Reyha thinks sherecognized the voice of one of the men with the cripple, subject to hisorders, as that of one of the men who took me away last night."

Aaron had begun to get a bad feeling about this Naszif that he did not know.

He was up to something.

"Is there something going on inside the Living? Are there factions operatingwithout recourse to the established chain of command?"

"What are you doing, Naszif?"

"Thinking out loud. Consider. I'm sure the man who took me out last night, andwho was with bel-Sidek today, is a character named Hadribel. Hadribel is thenumber two man of the Living in the Shu. He was taking orders from bel-Sidek.

And bel-Sidek said, at least by implication, that the man who had died wasmore important than him. Who was that man, really? And who would dare murderhim?"

"That's enough, Naszif. I've figured out what you're doing. I'm not going tolet you use me. You had your one shot at getting me killed and got away withit. You don't get a second chance."

Naszif frowned, pretending he did not understand.

"Almost two hundred from our tower survived the Herodian prison camps, Naszif.

Most of them came back to Qushmarrah. Some work down at the yard. You rememberBig Turi? Bad Turi we called him sometimes. What do you think Turi would do ifsomeone told him it was our buddy Naszif that opened that postern that night?"

Naszif looked troubled. Laella said, "Aaron! You stop that kind of talk."

"Be quiet. And use your head. What happens after he fills me up witheverything he knows or guesses? The Herodians somehow get a sign, they grabme, and Naszif gets his message through. So what if old Aaron gets himselfbusted up some while they're getting him to tell them what he wants them toknow? He gets rid of Aaron and he gets rid of one of the ways he'svulnerable."

Laella looked at Naszif, whose face was a blank, then at Reyha, who stared ather hands still, shaking as she shed silent tears. "Reyha?"

Reyha said nothing. She did not look up.

Straining her old bones till their creak sounded in the silence, Raheb movedto the hearth where she began adding wood to the fire.

Aaron's throat was so tight he was afraid he was squeaking when he said, "Theguys who survived our outfit don't belong to the Living or anything, Naszif.

But they've got it all planned out, what they're going to do when they findout who opened that postern. It's going to take them a long time to get thatfar, but the last thing they're going to do is send him out to run through the streets without his skin on."

He could not believe this was him talking. Never in his life, that herecalled, had he threatened anyone.

"I've kept quiet for six years, out of concern and respect for Reyha andZouki. But now you've forfeited my silence by denying me and mine an equalconcern and respect. Now you have to buy my silence. You will go out of myhome and out of my life and forget I even exist. If you ever speak my name toanyone and I hear about it I'll see that yours is mentioned to those of ourcompany who survived."

Naszif met his gaze briefly, saw that there was nothing more that could besaid or done. He rose.

Raheb turned from the hearth. Clutching a large, greasy carving knife, shethrew herself at Naszif. Aaron did not move fast enough to deflect her assaultcompletely. The knife ripped a gash almost the length of Naszifs left arm.

It was eerie. Nobody made a sound. Faces pale, eyes filled with horror, theyall watched in silence as Aaron disarmed the old woman, who stopped strugglingthe instant he did so. In a calm voice she said, "Sixty thousand murdersblacken your soul, Naszif bar bel-Abek." She spat on him as Reyha, eyes stilldowncast, tried to look at his arm. "Sixty thousand curses upon your grave, may it be an early one."

Pale and terrified, Naszif backed toward the door. Reyha opened it for him.

They went out. Aaron closed it behind them.

Still there was no sound except a soft sniffle from Laella. Raheb went back toher chores. The boys clung to Mish, frightened. In some symbolic gesture hedid not understand himself, Aaron stabbed the carving knife into the door andleft it quivering there as he went to comfort his sons.

He eased back from the boys and told them, "Go hug Mom. She needs you." Theytoddled right over, somewhat reassured.

Aaron watched, the fear snarling inside him.

"Aaron?" Mish said in a small voice.

"Uhm?"

"When I was talking to Yoseh ... His brother Nogah said he stayed all nightin Tosh Alley last night. In the middle of the night, he said, he saw the mostbeautiful woman he's ever seen. She came from up the hill. She came down andstopped in front of our door for a few minutes. Then she disappeared in thefog."

"Uhm?" The fear grew stronger.

"That man said they thought a woman k-killed Mr. bel-Sidek's father. If Nogahsaw a beautiful woman, that couldn't have been Reyha."

"I suppose you're right."

Someone knocked.

Fear filled Aaron's home.

Bel-Sidek was just steps from his door when he saw the traitor and his womanleave the carpenter's home. What now? Didn't he have troubles enough? Now thetraitor was going to go roaming around anywhere he felt like?

He eased into shadow and let them pass. They did not notice. They wereengrossed in themselves. The woman moved with difficulty, still feeling theeffects of her stubbornness this morning. The traitor carried his left armoddly, as though it was injured.

The khadifas would begin arriving any moment. But this bore investigation.

With a resigned sigh he limped to the carpenter's door. He knocked.

The door opened. The coldness that came into the man's face was so intensebel-Sidek retreated a step. "May I come in?"

"No."

Forthright and rude, that answer flustered him. What could he do?

But the carpenter surrendered some of his advantage. He stepped outside, closed the door behind him. "We aren't interested in the games being playedaround here, old man. By you or anybody else. Leave us alone."

"Qushmarrah ..."

The carpenter spat at his feet. "You're not Qushmarrah. Thieves andextortioners, torturers of women and stealers of children, claiming they speakfor Qushmarrah?" He spat again.

Bel-Sidek could not restrain his anger. It had been piling up all day. "Aaron, we've never touched a child!"

"If you believe that, you're a fool. A fool without an idea what those who owehim allegiance are doing in his name. And for that I fear you more than I fearyou for all the knives you can send in the dark. A knife can kill a man but afool can kill a city."

"Aaron ..."

"Ask yourself, if you truly believe the Living aren't stealing children, howit is that they can show a man the child that was taken from him. When youhave an answer, if you care to share it with me, you might find me moreinclined toward conversation."

Bel-Sidek did not know what to say. The carpenter was behaving so far out ofcharacter, was so upset, that anything might make him do something crazy.

"Aaron ..."

"Just stay away and leave us alone. You ignore me and I'll ignore you."

"All right, Aaron. I'm a reasonable man." And it was no time to press.

"I'm glad to hear that. If it's true. One thing I might owe you. A Dartar warrior who spent the night hiding in Tosh Alley saw a woman pass in themiddle of the night. He didn't know her. He described her as the mostbeautiful woman he'd ever seen. Dartars are strange but I don't think they'restrange enough to confuse my wife's friend Reyha with beauty. Good night."

Bel-Sidek stood there a minute after the door closed behind the carpenter, theonly thought in his mind the certain fact that the Living were losing the warof the heart even where men had the most cause to hate the conqueror.

He turned away and began to labor uphill. This might be somethinginstructional he might mention during his confrontation with the khadifas.

Azel left Muma's Place soon after sundown. A few experimental maneuvers showedhim that Colonel Bruda's men were still on him. He spotted four. That big aneffort suggested there might be more, less easily spotted. He must havestumbled good.

He took only the routine precautions of a man who did not expect to befollowed. Let them get comfortable and confident. He would shake them later, when he needed to.

He drifted into the Blessed Way, a waterfront to acropolis avenue a quartermile north of Char Street, but left it immediately. Herodian soldiers werebusy there, questioning anyone who ventured into the street. He wondered whatwas up but had no time to find out.

The watchers tracked him through the narrow ways only because he did not carewhether they stayed with him or not. They would not leam anything interesting.

Shortly before he reached the place where bel-Shaduk stayed, he did lose themsimply by stepping around a corner, then scrambling to a rooftop. He scurriedacross the tops of several houses, to a point from which he could watch belShaduk's place.

It leaked a lot of light.

Most Qushmarrahans went to sleep soon after nightfall, their working hoursdictated by economics and the availability of natural light. Ishabal's placebeing so lighted suggested that all Azel's guesswork was adding up the way heexpected.

"I thought he had better sense," Azel muttered.

The lights faded soon after he took his position. A man stuck his headoutside. He saw nothing. He came out. A whole squad, seven more men, followed.

They scattered but it looked like they had some common destination.

Azel thought he knew what that was. He set off across the rooftops, headedsouth. Easier to do that than try to follow somebody and maybe get spotted. Aslong as he'd guessed right about where they were going.

"The damn fool," he grumbled to himself. "She must have offered him afortune."

He ran into no trouble. The lords of the roofs were lying low tonight. Hewondered if that was an omen. He hoped it was just the weather. The drizzlemade the footing troublesome.

He found himself a perfect position overlooking Char Street long beforeIshabal's gang arrived. He even had time to scout his, and their, most likelyavenues of retreat.

The damn fool was going to try it.

Ought to be interesting.

He settled down to watch. His vantage was perfect, tactically, but it wasdamned wet.

General Cado went over Rose's letter for the third time, almost character bycharacter this time. Colonel Bruda stared out a window, toward the harbor, pleased that there was an overcast and an unseasonable chill. That would keepsome people off the streets tonight. Maybe the troops could be moved withoutbeing noticed at all.

Cado asked, "How much of this do you buy?"

"All of it and none of it. I think Rose is telling us the truths he believes.

That doesn't mean somebody hasn't been lying to him."

"I grow more curious about our Rose by the hour. He told me he learned tospeak Herodian when he was a sailor, before the conquest. But how manymerchants can read and write their native tongue, let alone a foreign one?"

"He's done great work for us."

"I know. I know. This is an example if only half is true." He tapped theletter, leaned forward, glared down at it. "General Hanno bel-Karba, presumeddead for six years, murdered, by witchcraft, the same night the Livingslaughtered Sullo s More-tians on the estate of the woman who believed herselfto be bel-Karba's widow. Our man Rose actually gets to see and identify thebody because by lot he gets chosen to be a guard at the funeral. Do you buythat?"

"I can't refute it. His reported movements are consistent with his claims."

"But you didn't have him under observation every minute."

"No. He's a cautious man. He takes extensive precautions routinely."

"And he says he thinks somebody is watching him and if it's us would we kindlylay off and stop attracting attention because his bosses in the Living arenever going to believe we think he's important enough to rate that muchtrouble."

Bruda smiled. "He's always been a brassy bastard."

"He's always been a bastard who doesn't add up."

"But useful."

"No matter how useful I'll never completely trust a man who won't accept acommission in the army. He's the only Qushmar-rahan agent we have who hasn'tenlisted and converted."

Bruda stared into the night.

"Keep watching him."

"I intend to. If only because I've never been able to find out who he is orwhere he came from. I have to satisfy my own curiosity."

Cado grunted. He let Bruda stare at the night while he read the letter again.

"What's the implication here? Sullo had his witch avenge his Moretians?"

Bruda shook his head. "It would be something deeper. The acts don't balance.

If Sullo had bel-Karba killed it wouldn't have been because of the Moretians.

I don't think he knew about them till he opened that trunk."

"Uhm? Spin me a fable."

"I'll posit you a problem first. You know Sullo. He comes to Qushmarrah andright away stumbles onto the fact that Hanno bel-Karba is alive and runningthe Living. Even better, he finds out where to lay hands on the old man. Whatdoes he do?"

That was an easy one. "He snaps him up, whatever the cost, parades him around, and gets us laughed out of town as raging incompetents."

"He didn't."

"He didn't. Could he be playing for higher stakes?"

"Maybe." Bruda stared out the window, rehearsing his theory. He had given it agreat deal of thought since first he had read Rose's letter. "You recall thedeath in the Hahr the other day? The reputed khadifa of the Hahr?"

Cado grunted.

"The public consensus in the Hahr now is that he was put away by the Living, not thieves. Because he had been using his position to enrich himself and hiscronies, not to work against Herod. He was moving into all the usualunderworld activities. His death was an example to the other khadifas, some ofwhom were involved in rackets in their own quarters. He was proof that nobodywas immune to the law of the movement."

"You're going to spin me that fable now?"

"Yes. I think Marteo Sullo is an ambitious man. I think he harbors notions toward achieving the imperial honors. I think someone inside the Livingoffered him an alliance in return for removing that pesky old man. Access toan organization like the Living, which has contacts with malcontentseverywhere, would be invaluable to an ambitious and unscrupulous man."