'I was looking to trade the pearls for the means to rebuild. Stars above, we need so much.' Itrac fell silent, her painted face contemplative. 'But perhaps that's why the harvest has been so abundant, to give us the means to evade this evil.' She paused, eyes distant. 'We don't want Rekha to know why we need the gems. I don't quite know what she would do with such news, but better to keep her ignorant if we can. She'll do her best to find out what we do with the stones, though. Misdirecting her will take some cunning.'

'Trade and all its intricacies are your prerogative, my lady of Chazen.' Kheda took a pace towards the door. 'And while you're about your duties, I had better be about mine. I've been idle too long this morning.'

'You were tired.' Itrac took a sideways step to surprise him with a quick, hesitant kiss on his lips. 'What will you be doing?'

'Taking the omens first and foremost.' Kheda jerked his head in the direction of the unseen observatory tower.

'Then learning what news has come in from the Mist Dove and the rest of the triremes. I want to see the bird master as well, to find out what courier doves we're holding from Ritsem and Redigal. I'd better make sure all our allies know I am alive and well, never mind whatever hysterical news Rekha has spread. And I'll see if there's any useful lore in the Chazen library. We may know how to contain this menace, but the sooner this dragon is dead, the better.'

So I need Dev to bespeak that wizard woman of his as soon as possible. Everything else is just so much treading mater.

'But your breakfast.. .' Itrac looked towards the door.

'Send Jevin to wake up Dev and have him bring food and drink to the observatory.' Kheda grinned. 'I must put my duty to the domain before my belly.'

'Naturally, my husband,' replied Itrac with amusement. 'Will you eat with me this evening?' she asked hopefully. 'I will, with pleasure.' Kheda went into the hallway, ignoring the servants who froze as he appeared.

You'll need to make time to bolster her nerve. Besides, Risala will be occupied elsewhere. Though we should discuss what verses she thinks would spread a little calm and stiffen resolve around the islands, and how we might get her discreet allies to prompt poets to recall them.

Other residence slaves were working in the shade of the pavilion's northern face. Maidservants paused in their sewing and polishing, apprehensive faces turning to Kheda. A sturdy youth pulling a handcart stacked with bright brass water jars stopped by the steps, open- mouthed but fearful to ask what might be about to befall them. Kheda nodded acknowledgements, his confident smile resolutely fixed, and strode out into the bright sun. As he took the path towards the observatory, he forced himself to slow his pace.

If I'm seen rushing about, these people will mistake purposeful haste for open alarm and we'll have half of them fleeing before the day is out.A white-haired islander was sweeping windblown sand and grass from the hard, trampled path.

Too old to be hauling sacks and barrels but too hale to accept an idle seat in the shade. There's mettle in Chazen. A warlord should be proud to lead such people.

'Glad to see you safely home, my lord.' The old man stepped aside, leaning on his broom of palm fronds, the well-muscled arms of his youth wasted to wrinkled slackness. For all his courtesy, his leathery face was anxious as he gripped his broom with gnarled hands.

'I'm glad to be here,' said Kheda breezily.

'My lord . . .' There was pleading in the old servant's voice.

'Yes?' The question died on Kheda's tongue as he saw faces turned towards him all across the anchorage.

Have they all been waiting for sight of me? What are they looking for? Confirmation that there's someone here to lead them to safety this time? Itrac can't be the only one remembering how Chazen Saril fled those invaders to wash up in Daish waters, broken by his fears, unmanned.

Can't they think back to their own terror? Do they realise how much they were asking of him, that he fight magic with bare-handed ignorance?

Do they realise just what they're asking of me? Would they ever truly want to know what answers I'm seeking?

The rowing boats ferrying the residence's food and fuel from the isles edging the lagoon slowed as the islanders trailed their oars in the water, mouths open as they registered Kheda's presence. The purposeful activity aboard the closest light trireme halted as bare-chested oarsmen hurried up from the rowing deck to line the unrailed sides and join the archers on the bow platform. The shipmaster and his steersman bowed low beneath the upswept arc of the stern as they saw Kheda look in their direction. Hails sounded further out across the water as the crews of great galleys anchored in deeper waters acknowledged their warlord.

Kheda turned his attention to the sweeper. 'You wanted to ask me something?'

'I hear tell there's an ill wind blowing in the western isles.' The old man swallowed, unwilling to tempt the future by mentioning the dragon.

Past the old man, Kheda saw Itrac appear on the steps of Kheda's own pavilion, her garments vivid despite the shade, the pearls adorning her all the whiter for it. He saw her look in his direction, hesitant.

'I'm seeking lore from every library I have access to and every ally who might know something of such beasts.' Kheda stretched one hand out towards Itrac. 'I'll be looking to the heavens, to the earthly compass, to every divination tested by time and use to guide me to the means to turn this ill fortune aside.

We will be rid of this evil, my friend.'

And it'll all be for nothing if we can't hold these people together. They thought you might be dead. They think that Itrac might have lost the hope of a child for the domain, and that's assuredly an evil omen. They had better see us happy and united. It's not just what you do that builds loyalty, it's what you 're seen to do. Daish Reik taught you that.

Kheda strode purposefully back down the path towards Itrac, hands outstretched. She saw him and hurried to meet him. He took her hands and drew her to him, folding her in a close embrace.

Somewhere distant, unseen, a cheer was raised. Other voices took it up, swelling the sound to a defiant roar. Stamping feet and the drumming of spars and ropes on deck planking ran beneath it. The swordsmen and archers of the heavy triremes raised their weapons, scabbarded swords clashing together, daggers making drums of wood and leather quivers to add a hard edge to the rousing sound.

Itrac slid her arms around his chest, pulling Kheda to her. She kissed him hard, her mouth opening beneath his, moulding her body to him. Her breath trembled on Kheda's cheek and he felt a disquieting shiver of lust beneath his cold calculation.

This is lust, not love. It's the thought of Risala that warms me with real passion. Have you seen that, my wife? Which was it that you felt for Saril, if truth were told? Are your kisses as calculated as mine?

As Itrac refused to release him, the ovation from the closest boats took on a distinctly ribald note. Khedaused laughter as an excuse to break away. After a moment's uncertainty, Itrac joined in. They moved apart, still hand-fasted. The applause was finally subsiding into individual shouts that Kheda was quite glad he couldn't make out.

'We have work to do, my lady.' He bowed to Itrac.

'We do, my lord.' Her smile was wide with new confidence, her eyes bright. 'Till this evening.'

He watched for a moment as she walked briskly back towards the heart of the residence. Servants and slaves returned to their tasks again amid a buzz of conversation. The figures aboard the ships in the anchorage set about their chores with renewed energy. One piper sent a swirl of melody up to challenge the raucous wheeling gulls, then a second joined in with a swooping counterpoint. Soon a murmur of disjointed song rumbled along beneath the jaunty flutes. The old sweeper chuckled, brushed some nonexistent debris from Kheda's path and bowed low as the warlord passed.

Let's hope that little display keeps curious eyes away from those things you must never be seen doing, lest the shock and horror of discovery rip this domain apart.

Kheda walked rapidly across the island to the clean-swept expanse in front of the observatory. Risala was waiting in the hall at the bottom of the stairs.

'That was a convincing show of joint resolve.' She sounded amused.

You don't sound jealous. Are you? You've kept your distance these past days, or was that because we couldn't escape Dev? What does it mean if you're not jealous of any woman who thinks she has a claim on me any more? Well, there's nothing I can do about it for the present, so I don't think I want to know either way. But you're wearing that string of shark's teeth around your sleeve. Isn't that token of something?

'We need to find some reason for Itrac's seclusion that nails the lie about her losing a baby,' Kheda said without preamble. 'And where has Dev got to, curse him!' He led the way into the westernmost of the semicircular halls at the base of the observatory. 'Are we alone? Are you certain?'

'There's no one here but me,' Risala assured him. 'I checked.'

'We need mirrors.' Kheda looked around the room with its filigree-fronted bookcases and shelves full of candles, pendants, metal tablets and dried herbs, the paraphernalia for every manner of divination. 'Dev must work the magic to speak to that woman again. We have to find out everything she knows about dragons as soon as possible.'

Risala unhooked a highly polished circle of steel from the wall, its rim chased with bronze sailfish. 'Where are we doing this?'

'Up aloft.' Dev appeared in the doorway carrying a laden tray and scowling blackly. 'And with that door locked behind us. We definitely don't want anyone walking in on us here.' He dumped the brass tray on a polished berale-wood table and spooned poached sard-berries into a bowl of steamed golden sailer grain. 'Do you have an excuse for shutting everyone out that won't raise more questions than it answers?'

Kheda's stomach rumbled as hunger surprised him. 'We'll say I was reading mirror omens.' He scooped up rustlenuts crushed with oil and herbs with some bread. 'You said you needed a mirror. Choose one,'

he ordered indistinctly through a mouthful of sweet green arith.

Wordlessly, Risala set the mirror she was holding on the table and went to fetch a second, this one square and framed with a lattice of tiny lustre tiles in red and gold.

Dev shovelled berries and sailer grain into his mouth, purple juice staining his lips. 'Does it matter which one I use?'

'Yes,' Kheda retorted, tearing another round of bread apart. 'Risala, are you hungry?' He gestured towards the food.

'I ate earlier.' She laid a third mirror carefully on the table, an oval of brightly polished copper whose reverse bore a silver mirror bird spreading the shimmering fan of its tail.

'Is any one more valuable than the others?' Dev set down his empty bowl and grinned. 'Any of them a gift from someone you particularly dislike?''Just choose one,' Kheda ordered, chewing rapidly.

Dev shrugged and picked up the mirror bordered by lustre tiles. 'This is as good as any.'

Hardly an omen, but that's Ulla-domain workmanship and I can't think of anyone I detest more than Vila Safar.

'Upstairs then.' Kheda nodded in the direction of the stairs and picked up the other two mirrors.

'I only need one,' said Dev, irritated.

'I'll be telling everyone I was looking for mirror omens.' Kheda picked a weighty key from a brass bowl on a shelf. 'I'm not going to risk making our plight even a little worse by lying about that.'

'Suit yourself,' said Dev with faint derision. 'Risala, make yourself useful and find me a candle.'

'You're his slave, Dev, I'm not yours.' All the same, she found a taper in a metal box beside an oil lamp and held it up for the wizard's approval.

'That'll do.' Dev nodded.

Kheda paused to lock the outer door as Risala followed the mage up to the observation platform. He climbed slowly up the stairs. The sunlight was fierce after the coolness within the building.

Is that why you 're sweating? Or is it your guilt at suborning magic yet again? And this time you're doing it in the very heart of this domain that's already suffered so much sorcery.

From the vantage point, Kheda glanced around the skein of islands to see purposeful activity in all directions, residence workers and mariners alike oblivious to their warlord's duplicity. 'Let's get this done.

Do you have everything you need?'

'Some shade wouldn't go amiss,' Dev said sourly. He dropped gracelessly to sit cross-legged in the middle of the roof, holding the mirror in one hand and the taper in the other. The virgin wick flared with scarlet sorcerous flame.

Kheda found he couldn't keep looking out over the unsuspecting anchorage and turned to stare at the empty seas to the south. Behind him, Dev spoke in some hurried incomprehensible tongue, his forceful scorn needing no translation.

'She says she hasn't found anything yet.' Risala came to stand by Kheda, her back to the sea, all her attention on the mirror that Dev was holding. 'She's talking about searching in some library.'

'We have libraries,' Kheda muttered.

'She's been looking for some journals,' Risala said slowly. 'She hasn't found them.'

From the tone of the barbarian's brusque interruption, Kheda concluded that Dev wasn't impressed by that news.

'She's asking him about the dragon,' Risala continued in an undertone. 'She wants to know if he's seen it again and what it's been doing. She wants to know all about it.'

'What is he telling her?' Kheda asked, curious. 'Has he said anything about the gems? What has he said about his own magic going awry?'

'No, he's saying nothing about that,' Risala said thoughtfully. 'He just wants to know about her researches.'

Dev's voice was harsh as he demanded answers. The unseen woman sounded to be giving as good as she got. Kheda could just hear her scathing replies, faint and tinny, like someone whispering paradoxically loudly into a copper goblet.

'She's saying he's welcome to try for himself if he thinks he can do better,' Risala commented with amusement.

Kheda slid Risala a sideways grin. 'I'm glad you're here to keep him honest.'

She didn't see his smile, intent on Dev's rapid exchanges with the distant wizard woman. 'They're disputing who might have these journals and who she should ask next.' Risala shook her head slowly, eyes still fixed on the mirror, her voice running low beneath the arguing mages. 'She's insisting she knows what she's looking for. She's sure these journals will hold all the lore we need. It's just finding out who has them. I don't think Dev's convinced.'

Kheda could hear that for himself, along with the rising note of defiant argument in the woman's words.

'Now she's talking about having to go on some journey to find out what we need to know,' Risala continued hurriedly. 'She says that's the best way to be certain, something about going to the source. Ithink there's a joke there but I don't follow. Dev's not amused. He seems to think there are people who'll know what we need closer to hand. He doesn't see why she can't do whatever it takes to win them over.'

She broke off, frowning as the conversation flowing back and forth through the enchanted mirror threatened to degenerate into a shouting match.

'Dev.' Kheda yielded to his frustration and turned around.

'What?' snapped the wizard before silencing the distant woman with a curt word.

'Is she truly on the scent of some lore that can help us? Do you believe that much?' Kheda demanded.

'Do you trust her?'

'She wants this lore worse than you do.' Dev laughed unpleasantly. 'It's just a question of the quickest way to find it. I'd stick to searching the archives at hand if it was me but she wants to make a trip-'

'Whatever she chooses to do, how soon does she think she might have some lore we can use against the dragon?' Kheda interrupted. 'Honestly? We need to know how long we have to hold the beast off for.'

'And what's the longest it might take her,' added Risala. 'If things don't go as well as she seems to expect,' Kheda agreed.

'Hope for the best but plan for the worst.' Risala quoted one of Kheda's precepts back at him with a grin.

Dev posed the question in his rapid barbarian tongue. Kheda listened with frustration to the uncanny, unintel- ligible conversation between the mages. The mirror burned with a red-gold radiance vivid even in the bright sunlight. The magewoman was a distant image, featureless as she gesticulated.

Hope for the best but plan for the worst. You cannot wait till you have all possible information before making plans. You will never have all the facts. Make your best plan based on knowledge, experience and instinct, and act upon it. Believe you are right. If it turns out you were wrong, deal with the consequences as and when they arise, and never admit to self-doubt. You did not make an error, because that was the best plan of action at the time. You cannot change the past, only the future, so make a new plan, the best you can in the here and now.

That's what your father told you and that's what you taught Sirket. It sounds so simple to be a warlord.

But won't relying on some accursed wizard's best guess inevitably lead me into error?

What else can I do? Isn't this woman's guess better than nothing? I have to base my actions on something. The people of Chazen must believe I have a plan or we'll lose them to their fears. Lose your people and you've lost your domain. First and last, that's the ultimate reality of being a warlord.

The wizard woman's distant reply had been going on for far too long to be a simple answer. Tension crawled between Kheda's shoulder blades along with sweat prompted by the punishing sun. Dev responded with some lengthy, forceful protest, his tone ugly.

'What is she saying?' Kheda asked with growing concern.

'That she won't just tell Dev what she learns regardless,' Risala answered, her voice tense with anger.

'She's saying she wants to come here, to see the dragon for herself. Then she'll share what she finds out.

Unless we agree, she won't tell us a thing.'

'How does she propose to do that?' Kheda saw that Dev was crushing the end of the taper in his hand, knuckles white around the beeswax. His scorn sprayed the mirror with spittle that vanished as soon as it touched the radiant metal.

The distant wizard woman's face filled the magical void burning in the surface of the mirror. The contrast with Dev was startling. This wizard woman was all barbarian with blonde hair drawn back off a curiously ageless face, though she was plainly no longer in the first flush of youth. There was no softness in those angular bones, no yielding in the thin-lipped mouth speaking with clipped precision. Her eyes were a surprise, - brown where Kheda would have expected blue, though paler than any he'd ever seen on an Archipelagan. They were also wholly resolute.

'She isn't going to back down over this,' he said quietly to Risala.