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Authors: David Eddings

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‘Tell the others to stop, and then get Vanion’s map. Let’s be sure we know where we’re going this time.’

‘I’m never going to get used to that,’ Kalten shuddered after they had covered fifty leagues of open desert in a single gray-blurred moment.

‘Your map’s not very precise, Vanion,’ Aphrael said critically. ‘We were trying for a spot on the
other
side of that peak.’ She pointed at a jagged spire rearing up out of the desert.


I
didn’t draw the map,’ Vanion replied a bit defensively. ‘What difference does it make, though? We’re close enough, aren’t we? We came to within a few miles of where we wanted to go.’

‘You’d have found out how much difference it makes if we’d been moving around near a large body of water,’ she said tartly. ‘This is just
too
imprecise.’

Vanion looked back over his shoulder toward the west. ‘It’s almost sunset. Why don’t we get back away from this road and set up for the night? If we’ve got a problem with this, let’s find a quiet place where we can work it out.’

Sparhawk smiled. Despite all his protestations that he was no longer the Pandion Preceptor, Vanion automatically took charge unless he was consciously thinking about what he believed to be his changed status. Sparhawk didn’t really mind. He was used to taking orders from Vanion, and his friend’s assumption of authority relieved
him
of the nagging details of command.

They rode out into the desert a couple of miles and set up for the night in a dry wash behind an up-thrust jumble of weathered boulders. Unlike the Rendorish desert, which was mostly sand, the desert here in Cynesga was sun-baked gravel, rusty-brown and sterile. The moving sands of Rendor at least gave an illusion of life. Cynesga was dead. Stark, treeless peaks clawed harshly at the sky, and the vast emptiness of gravel and rock was broken only by flat, bleached white beds of alkali.

‘Ugly place,’ Ulath grunted, looking around. Ulath was used to trees and snow-capped peaks.

‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ Kalten grinned. ‘I was thinking of selling it to you.’

‘You couldn’t
give
it to me.’

‘Look on the bright side. It almost never rains here.’

‘I think that’s part of the problem.’

‘There’s a lot of wild game, though.’

‘Really?’

‘Snakes, lizards, scorpions – that sort of thing.’

‘Have you developed a taste for baked scorpion?’

‘Ah – no, I don’t think so.’

‘I wouldn’t waste any arrows on them, then.’

‘Speaking of eating…’

‘Were we speaking of that?’

‘It’s a topic that comes up from time to time. Do you know of a way to set fire to rocks?’

‘Not right offhand, no.’

‘Then I’ll volunteer to fix supper. I haven’t seen a stick or a twig or even a dry leaf around here, so a fire’s sort of out of the question. Oh, well, cold food never hurt anybody.’

‘We can get by without fire,’ Vanion said, ‘but we’re going to have to have water for the horses.’

‘Aphrael and I can manage that, dear,’ Sephrenia assured him.

‘Good. I think we might be here for a day or so. Sparhawk and Aphrael are going to be working with Bhelliom on this little problem of precision.’ He looked inquiringly at the Child Goddess. ‘Is it likely to take very long?’ he asked her.

‘I’m not really positive, Vanion. When
I
do it, I still have the surrounding terrain to refer to, so I know where I am, no matter how fast I’m going. Bhelliom goes from one place to another instantaneously without any reference points. It’s an altogether different process.
Either Sparhawk and I are going to have to learn how Bhelliom’s technique works, or we’re going to have to make Bhelliom understand exactly what we want.’

‘Which way would be easier?’ Kalten asked her.

‘I’m not sure. It’s possible that they’re about the same – both very, very difficult. We’ll find out tomorrow morning.’ She looked at Vanion. ‘Are we more or less safe where we are right now?’

Vanion scratched at his short, silvery beard. ‘Nobody really expects us to be here. Somebody might accidentally stumble across us, but there won’t be any kind of organized search. They don’t know where we are, and the rings are shielded, so our friend out there won’t be able to pick up the sense of their location and follow that to us. I’d say that we’re safe here.’

‘Good. We’ve got some time, then. Let’s use it to let Sparhawk and Bhelliom get to know each other. There’s nothing all that crucial going on right now, so a few mistakes and false starts won’t hurt anything. They might be disastrous later on, though.’

Sephrenia did not tell them where the water came from the next morning, but it was icy-cold and tasted of snowmelt. It sparkled invitingly in its shaded little pool behind a rust-colored boulder, and by its very presence it alleviated a great deal of tension. Water is a source of major concern to people in a desert.

Flute took Sparhawk, Khalad and Talen some distance out onto a broad graveled plain to begin the instruction.

‘It’s going to get hot out here before long,’ Talen complained.

‘Probably, yes,’ the little girl agreed.

‘Why do Khalad and I have to come along?’

‘Vanion needs the knights with him here in case someone stumbles across our camp.’

‘You missed my point. Why do you two need
anybody
to come along?’

‘Sparhawk has to have people and horses to carry. He’s not going to be moving sacks of grain from place to place, you know.’ She looked at Vanion’s map. ‘Let’s see if Bhelliom can take us to this oasis up here, Sparhawk,’ she said, pointing at a symbol on the map.

‘What does it look like?’ he asked her.

‘How would I know? I’ve never been there either.’

‘All you’re giving me to work with is a
name,
Aphrael. Why don’t we do it the way we did when we moved from outside Jorsan up to Korvan? – and all those other places we went to when we were jumping around to confuse the other side? You tell Bhelliom where we want to go and then I’ll tell it to do it.’

‘We can’t be sure that I’ll always be available, Sparhawk. There are times when I have to be away. The whole idea here is to train you and Bhelliom to work together
without
my intervention.’

‘A
name
isn’t really very much to take hold of, you know.’

‘There’ll be trees, Sparhawk,’ Khalad told him. ‘An oasis is kind of a pond, and anywhere you’ve got water, you’re going to have trees.’

‘And probably houses,’ Talen added. ‘There’d almost have to be houses, since water’s so scarce here in Cynesga.’

‘Let’s see the map,’ Sparhawk said. He studied the chart carefully for quite some time. ‘All right,’ he said finally. ‘Let’s try it and see what happens.’ He lifted the cap on his ring and touched the band to the lid of the golden box. ‘Open,’ he said. Then he put on the other ring and took out the Bhelliom. ‘It’s me again,’ he told the jewel.

‘Oh, that’s absurd, Sparhawk,’ Aphrael told him.

‘Formal introductions take too long,’ he replied. ‘There may come a time when I’ll be in a hurry.’ He carefully imagined a desert oasis – an artesian-fed pond with its surrounding palms and flat-roofed white houses. ‘Take us there, Blue Rose,’ he commanded.

The air blurred and faded into gray. Then the blur cleared, and the oasis was there, just as he had imagined it.

‘You see, Sparhawk,’ Aphrael said smugly. ‘That wasn’t hard at all, was it?’

Sparhawk even laughed out loud. ‘This might work out after all.’

‘Talen,’ Khalad said, ‘why don’t you ride on down to one of those houses and ask somebody the name of this place?’

‘It’s Zhubay, Khalad,’ Flute told him. ‘That’s where we wanted to go, so that’s where we are.’

‘You wouldn’t mind a bit of verification, would you?’ he asked her innocently.

She scowled at him.

Talen rode down to the cluster of houses and returned a few minutes later. ‘Let me see the map,’ he said to Khalad.

‘Why?’ Flute asked him. ‘We’re in Zhubay, up near the Atan border.’

‘No, Divine One,’ the boy disagreed, ‘actually we’re not.’ He studied the map for several minutes. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Here it is.’ He pointed. ‘
This
is where we’re at – Vigayo, down near the southern border where Cynesga adjoins Arjuna. You missed your mark by about three hundred leagues, Sparhawk. I think you’d better sharpen your aim just a bit.’

‘What were you
thinking
about?’ Aphrael demanded.

‘Pretty much what Khalad was talking about – trees, a pond, white houses – just exactly what there is in front of us.’

‘Now what?’ Talen asked. ‘Do we go back to where we started and try again?’

Aphrael shook her head. ‘Bhelliom and the rings are unshielded. We don’t want to put Vanion, Sephrenia and the others in danger by going back there too often. Let me down, Sparhawk. I want to think about this.’

He set her down on the ground, and she walked down to the edge of the oasis, where she stood throwing pebbles into the water for a while. Her expression was doubtful when she returned. Sparhawk lifted her again. ‘Well?’ he asked.

‘Take us to Zhubay, Sparhawk,’ she said firmly.

‘Let me see the map again, Khalad.’

‘No,’ Aphrael said very firmly. ‘Never mind the map. Just tell Bhelliom to take us to Zhubay.’


Exactly!’
Khalad said, snapping his fingers. ‘Why didn’t we think of that before?’

‘Think of what?’ Sparhawk demanded.

‘Try it, my Lord,’ Khalad grinned. ‘I think you might be surprised.’

‘If we wind up on the moon, you two are in trouble,’ Sparhawk threatened.

‘Just try it, Sparhawk,’ Flute told him.

‘Blue Rose! Take us to Zhubay!’ He said it without much conviction.

The air blurred again, and when it cleared they were sitting on their horses beside another oasis. There were a number of significant differences between this one and the one they’d just left.

‘There probably isn’t any need,’ Khalad said to his brother, ‘but you might want to ask anyway, just to be sure.’

Talen rode on round the oasis and spoke with an old woman who had just come out of one of the houses. He was grinning when he came back. ‘Zhubay,’ he told them.

‘How could it find the place with only the name to work with?’ Sparhawk demanded. ‘It’s probably never even
heard
the name Zhubay before.’

‘But the people who live here have, my Lord,’ Khalad shrugged. ‘The name “Zhubay” was sort of floating around in their minds. That’s all Bhelliom really needed to find the place. Isn’t that more or less the way it works, Flute?’

‘That’s
exactly
how it works. All Sparhawk has to do is mention the name of the place he wants to visit. Bhelliom will find it and take us there.’

‘Are you sure?’ Talen sounded uncertain about the whole notion. ‘It seems awfully simple to me.’

‘There’s one way to find out. Take us to Ahkan, Sparhawk.’

‘Where is it? What kingdom, I mean?’

‘I don’t think you need to know that. Just take us there.’

Ahkan was a town in the mountains –
some
mountains,
some
where. It was surrounded by dark green fir trees, and the nearby peaks were snow-capped.

‘Better and better,’ Flute said happily.

‘Where are we?’ Talen asked, looking around. ‘This isn’t Cynesga, that’s for certain, so where is it?’

‘What difference does it make?’ Flute shrugged. ‘Torrelta, Sparhawk.’

It was snowing in Torrelta. The wind came howling in off a lead-gray sea driving a blizzard before it. The buildings around them were dim and indistinct in the swirling snow-storm, but they seemed to be constructed of rough-hewn logs.

‘There’s no
limit
!’ Flute exclaimed. ‘We can go
anywhere
!’

‘All right,’ Sparhawk said very firmly, ‘just which “anywhere” have we come to?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s go back to where we started from.’

‘Of course,’ he agreed pleasantly. ‘Just as soon as you tell us where we are.’

‘I’m getting
cold,
Sparhawk. I’m not dressed for a blizzard.’

‘It’s nice and warm back in Cynesga,’ he told her, ‘and we’ll go there – just as soon as you tell me where we are.’

She said a naughty word. ‘Torrelta’s on the north coast of Astel, Sparhawk. It’s almost winter here now.’

He looked around with feigned surprise. ‘Why, I believe you’re right. Isn’t that amazing?’ He visualized the flat gravel plain near the dry wash where they had set up camp the previous evening. He groped for a name for a moment, then remembered the blunder he had made when they had first set out. ‘Hold the box open, Khalad,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll put Bhelliom and Ehlana’s ring inside just as soon as we get back.’ He drew the picture in his mind again. ‘Take us
there
, Blue Rose!’ he commanded.

‘Where have you been?’ Sephrenia demanded. She and Vanion had ridden out onto the gravel plain to look for them.

‘Oh,’ Talen said evasively, brushing the snow off his shoulders, ‘here and there.’

‘I gather that one of the places was quite a ways off,’ Vanion surmised, looking at the snow still clinging to the travelers.

‘It’s really amazing, Sephrenia,’ Flute said happily, ‘and it’s all so
simple.

Khalad closed the box and handed it to Sparhawk. Sparhawk snapped the cap down over the ruby on his ring and then put the box back inside his tunic. ‘We
made a couple of false starts right at first, though,’ he admitted.

‘How does it work?’ Vanion asked.

‘We just let Bhelliom take care of everything,’ Sparhawk shrugged. ‘We
have
to do it that way, actually. It’s when we try to help that things go wrong.’

‘Could you be just a bit more specific than that?’ Sephrenia asked Flute.

‘Sparhawk’s really very close. All he has to do is tell Bhelliom a name – any name – of any place at all. Bhelliom goes and finds it, and then it takes us there.’

‘That’s
all
?’

‘That’s it, dear sister. Not even Sparhawk can make any mistakes this way.’

Chapter 10

‘We have to pick up someone there, that’s why,’ Flute told them.

‘Who?’ Kalten asked.

‘I don’t know. All I know is that someone’s supposed to go with us, and we have to pick him up in Cynestra.’

‘Another one of those hunches of yours?’

‘You can call it that if you want to.’

‘I don’t think we’ll want to go into the city itself until we’ve had a chance to feel things out,’ Vanion said, looking up from his map. There’s a village just to the west of town. Let’s go there and nose around a bit.’

‘What’s the name?’ Sparhawk asked him, opening the box and taking out his wife’s ring.

‘Narset,’ Vanion replied, looking up from the map.

‘All right.’ Sparhawk took out the Bhelliom. He held it up and frowned slightly. ‘May I borrow your handkerchief, little mother?’ he asked Sephrenia.

‘Use your own,’ she told him.

‘I seem to have left home without one. I’m not going to blow my nose on it, Sephrenia. Bhelliom’s getting dusty. I wanted to brush it off a bit.’

She gave him a peculiar look.

‘It’s being very helpful. I don’t want it to think that I’m ungrateful.’

‘Why should you care what it thinks?’

‘She’s obviously never commanded troops,’ Sparhawk said to Vanion. ‘You might want to expose her to the notion of two-way loyalty someday.’

‘If I get around to it. Do you suppose we can go to
Narset – as soon as you’ve finished with your housekeeping?’

Sparhawk brushed off the glowing petals of the Sapphire Rose. ‘How’s that?’ he asked it.

‘I think he’s losing his grip on his sanity,’ Kalten said to Ulath.

‘Not really,’ Sparhawk disagreed. ‘It’s got an awareness – almost a personality. I could use the rings like whips and drive it, I suppose, but I think I’d prefer willing cooperation. The time may come when that’s important.’ He gave Sephrenia back her handkerchief. ‘Hold the box open, Khalad,’ he told his squire. ‘I’ll want to put Bhelliom and Ehlana’s ring away again just as soon as we arrive.’ He looked at Vanion again. ‘Narset?’ he asked.

‘Narset,’ Vanion replied firmly.

‘Blue Rose,’ Sparhawk said, taking the jewel in both hands, ‘let’s go to Narset.’

The Bhelliom throbbed, and that blurred twilight came down briefly. Then it cleared again.

Narset was a small, dusty village. The houses were hardly more than mud huts, and they had flat roofs and animal pens at the rear, pens that seemed largely decorative, since chickens, pigs and goats wandered freely in the streets. There was a fair-sized city lying to the east, and all the buildings in that city were covered with white plaster to ward off the brutal desert sun.

Sparhawk put Bhelliom and Ehlana’s ring away and flipped the golden cap back down over his own ring.

‘We’ve got company coming,’ Talen warned.

A sallow-faced Tamul in a green silk robe was approaching with a squad of Cynesgan soldiers, swarthy men in the same flowing black and white robes and intricately wound cloth head-dresses as the guards at the border had worn. The Tamul had hard-looking eyes, which he tried to conceal behind a contrived expression
of joviality. ‘Well met, Sir Knights,’ he greeted them in slightly accented Elenic. ‘We’ve been expecting you. I am Kanzad, chief of the local office of the Ministry of the Interior. Ambassador Taubel posted me here to greet you.’

‘His Excellency is too kind,’ Vanion murmured.

‘All the officials of the Empire have been instructed to cooperate with you fully, Lord…?’

‘Vanion.’

Kanzad covered a momentary confusion. ‘I was led to believe that a Sir Sparhawk would be in command of your party.’

‘Sparhawk’s been detained. He’ll be joining us later.’

‘Ah.’ Kanzad recovered. ‘I’m afraid there’ll be some slight delay before you can enter the city, Lord Vanion.’

‘Oh?’

Kanzad smiled a thin, humorless smile. ‘King Jaluah’s feeling neglected at the moment.’ He threw a quick look at the squad of Cynesgans standing several paces behind him, then lowered his voice to a confidential tone. ‘Frankly, Lord Vanion, the Cynesgans and this pest-hole they call home are so unimportant in the affairs of the Empire that no one really takes them seriously. They’re terribly touchy about that. Some idiot at the embassy neglected to pass on a routine communication from Matherion, and now the king’s sulking in his palace. His sycophants have filled the streets with crowds of demonstrators. Ambassador Taubel’s trying to smooth things over without resorting to the use of the Atan garrison, but things are a bit strained in the streets of Cynestra just now. His Excellency suggests that you and your companions wait here in Narset until he sends word that it’s safe for you to proceed.’

‘As you think best,’ Vanion murmured politely.

Kanzad visibly relaxed. ‘First of all, let’s get in out of this accursed sun.’ He turned and led them into the
shabby village. There were no more than a couple of dozen of the mud huts surrounding a well located in the sun-baked central square. Sparhawk idly wondered if the women of the village went to the well in the first steely light of dawn as the women of Cippria in Rendor had, and if they could possibly move with that same fluid grace. Then, for no reason at all, he wondered how Lillias was doing.

Aphrael leaned toward him from her sister’s horse. ‘Shame on you, Sparhawk,’ she murmured.

‘You’ve met Lillias,’ he replied easily, ‘so you know that she’s not the sort of woman you forget – no matter how much you might want to.’

The only building of any substance in the village was the local police station, an ominous stone structure with black iron bars on the windows. Kanzad’s expression was smoothly apologetic. ‘It’s not very inviting, Lord Vanion,’ he said deprecatingly, ‘but it’s the coolest place in this pig-sty.’

‘Should we kill him now and get it over with?’ Bevier murmured to Sparhawk in Styric.

‘Let’s hold off on that,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘We have to wait for Aphrael’s friend – whoever he is – so let’s not precipitate anything just yet.’

‘I’ve had some refreshments prepared,’ Kanzad said to Vanion. ‘Why don’t we go inside? That sun is really growing unbearable.’

The knights dismounted and followed the policeman into the large, dusty office. There was a long table set against one wall, a table laden with plates of sliced melon and figs and with flagons that promised other refreshments. ‘The fruits and melons here aren’t nearly as palatable as those you’d find in Matherion,’ Kanzad apologized, ‘but the local wines aren’t
entirely
undrinkable.’

‘Thanks all the same, Kanzad,’ Vanion declined, ‘but
we stopped for lunch no more than an hour ago. We’re all just fine.’

A momentary flicker of annoyance crossed the Tamul’s face. ‘I’ll go make sure that your horses are being properly cared for, then, and I’ll send a messenger to the embassy to advise Ambassador Taubel of your arrival.’ He turned and went on out.

‘Could you arrange some privacy, dear?’ Vanion asked Sephrenia in Styric.

‘Of course,’ she smiled. She quickly wove the spell and released it.

‘Someday you’ll have to teach me that one,’ he said.

‘And become redundant?’ she smiled. ‘Not on your life, my love.’

‘We appear to have taken them by surprise,’ Bevier noted. ‘Kanzad doesn’t seem to have had much time to knock the rough edges off those lies he told us.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Ulath said as Kalten reached for one of the wine flagons. ‘One sip of that would probably stiffen you like a plank.’

Kalten regretfully pushed the flagon away. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he agreed.

‘We’re prisoners, then, aren’t we,’ Talen sighed. ‘That’s depressing. I’ve been a thief all my life, and this is the first time I’ve ever been arrested.’

‘The fact that these refreshments are probably poisoned complicates things just a bit,’ Ulath growled. ‘Aside from that, Kanzad’s been very helpful. He’s just put us inside the strongest building in the village, and he rather carelessly forgot to take our weapons. We can hold this place for as long as necessary.’

‘You’re a fraud, Ulath,’ Bevier laughed. ‘Tynian’s right. You pretend to hate sieges, but you’re always the first one to suggest forting up.’

‘A true friend wouldn’t mention that.’

‘I can provide water if the worst comes to the worst,’
Sephrenia told them, ‘but let’s not precipitate anything just yet.’ She reached down and picked Flute up. ‘Have you had any hints about the one we’re waiting for yet?’

Flute shook her head. ‘Nothing very specific so far. I
think
he’s on his way, though.’

‘Good. This isn’t really a very pleasant place.’

‘A thought, my Lords,’ Berit said. ‘Wouldn’t it be a good idea to have Kanzad in here with us – just as a precaution? If someone starts thinking about storming the building, that might make them give it a few second thoughts.’

‘Good point,’ Ulath agreed.

Kanzad, however, did not return. The afternoon inched along, and the knights grew increasingly restless. ‘He’s stalling, you know,’ Kalten said finally. ‘Either he’s got reinforcements on the way, or he’s hoping that we’ll get thirsty.’

‘We’ll just have to wait, Kalten,’ Flute told him. ‘The one who’s going to be joining us is on his way.’

‘It’s a race, then. We get to sit here making wagers on who gets here first – our new traveling companion or Kanzad’s reinforcements.’

‘You can look at it that way if you want to, I suppose.’

It was about two hours after their arrival in Narset when a large party came along the road from Cynestra. The man in the lead wore a rose-colored Tamul robe, and he was riding a spirited black horse. The ones following him were Atans.

‘Whose side are the Atans on?’ Talen asked.

‘That depends on whether or not word from Matherion has reached the local garrison telling them to ignore orders from the Ministry of the Interior,’ Khalad replied.

‘Things could be even murkier than that,’ Vanion suggested. ‘Back in Matherion, there’s no love lost between
the Foreign Ministry and Interior. Kanzad was hinting at the fact that he and Ambassador Taubel are very cozy.’

‘That might suggest that our enemies have managed to penetrate Oscagne’s service,’ Bevier added with a slightly worried frown.

‘We’ll find out in a minute,’ Berit said from where he had been watching out the window. ‘Kanzad just came out from behind the building.’

They all crowded around the windows to watch.

Kanzad’s welcoming smile crumbled from his face. ‘What are
you
doing here, Itagne?’ he demanded of the Tamul on the black horse. ‘I sent for Ambassador Taubel.’

The rose-clad man reined in. His eyes looked almost sleepy, and he had a lofty, superior expression on his face. ‘I’m afraid the ambassador’s been detained, old boy,’ he replied in a cultured, almost deliberately insulting tone. His voice was oddly familiar. ‘He sends you his very best, though.’

Kanzad struggled to regain his composure. ‘What is it exactly that’s delaying the ambassador?’ he asked bluntly.

Itagne turned his head slightly. ‘I’d say it was the chains, wouldn’t you, Atana?’ he asked the young Atan woman who appeared to be in charge of the detachment. ‘It’s deucedly hard to run with chains on.’

‘It
could
be the chains, Itagne-ambassador,’ the girl agreed. ‘Of course, the bars of his cell might be getting in his way too.’ The young woman was full-figured, and her eyes were bold as she looked at the Tamul official.

‘What’s going on here?’ Kanzad demanded.

‘The Atana and I have become very close friends since my arrival, Kanzad,’ Itagne smiled, ‘but gentlemen shouldn’t really talk about that sort of thing, should they? You
are
a gentleman, aren’t you, Kanzad?’

‘I wasn’t talking about that.’ Kanzad’s teeth were
clenched. ‘What have you done with the ambassador?’

‘There have been a few changes at the embassy, old boy – and in your own offices as well. I really hope you don’t mind, but I had to commandeer your building. We don’t
have
a dungeon at the embassy – distressing oversight there, I suppose. Anyway, Ambassador Taubel, along with all your grubby little policemen, are presently locked safely away in your dungeon. My compliments on it, incidentally. It’s really very nice.’

‘By whose authority have you imprisoned the ambassador? You’re only an undersecretary.’

‘Appearances
can
be deceiving, can’t they? Actually, my brother placed
me
in charge here in Cynestra. My authority is absolute.’


Your brother?

‘Didn’t the similarity between Oscagne’s name and mine set off any bells in your brain, old boy? I
knew
you fellows at Interior were sort of limited, but I didn’t think you were
that
dense. Shall we cut directly on through to the significant part of this discussion, Kanzad? It’s beastly hot out here in the sun. My brother’s authorized me to take charge here. I have the full support and cooperation of the Atan garrison, don’t I, Atana?’ He smiled at the golden giantess standing beside his horse.

‘Oh,
my,
yes, Itagne.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll do almost
anything
for you.’

‘There you have it, then, Kanzad,’ Itagne said. ‘I’ve uncovered the fact that you and Taubel are part of a treasonous conspiracy, so I’ve removed you from authority. I have all these lovely muscles to back me up, so there’s really not a blasted thing you can do about it, is there?’

‘You have no authority over me, Itagne.’

‘How tiresome,’ Itagne sighed. ‘Cynestra’s currently under martial law, Kanzad. That means that I have authority over
everybody.
The Atans control the streets. I
know you share my confidence in them.’ He looked critically at the policeman’s stubborn face. ‘You just don’t understand at all, do you, old boy?’ He smiled fondly at the giantess. ‘Atana, dear, what would you do if I asked you to delete this tiresome wretch?’

‘I’d kill him, Itagne.’ She shrugged, reaching for her sword. ‘Did you want me to split him up the middle, or just cut off his head?’

‘Charming girl,’ Itagne murmured. ‘Let me think about it for a while, Atana. Kanzad’s a fairly high-ranking official, so there may be some formalities involved.’ He turned back to the now pasty-faced policeman. ‘I’m sure you see how things stand, dear boy,’ he said. ‘Oh, I suppose you should sort of consider yourself under arrest.’

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