"If you have a moment, healer, I have business I wish to discuss. We may converse in my room?"

"I-" Adar hesitated briefly before returning the bow. "Yes, of course-"

"Then, if you are finished here, my man will find something to temper our thirst."

It did seem, then, that the worst of the injured had been cared for. Grooms and servants who had fled their beds in the stables were finding corners to curl up in for a few hours of sleep before the first wave of customers dislodged them in the morning. Adar packed up his sack, but a last look around the room for any wounded who had been overlooked reminded Llesho that he hadn't seen Master Den since he'd woken up to find that the fire was real this time.

"Where . . . ?"

There he was, coming toward them with long, sure strides, trailing a stranger in his wake. He didn't stop at the aid station, but passed them, presenting the stranger to Shou.

"This is the man I mentioned to you." Master Den bowed to Shou with scarcely a hint of irony. "May I recommend to you Harlol, a Tashek camel drover out of the Wastes. His master lost much of his load in the fire, and so he seeks a new position."

"I have a drover," Shou answered slowly. Like Llesho, he studied Den's face for a sign of what was expected of him. Unlike Llesho, the necessity of doing so set his mouth in a thin line of annoyance.

Harlol bowed deeply and spoke up for himself. "Not anymore. Your man was seen running away from the stables. I don't think he'll be back."

"He wasn't chased by a Tashek drover by any chance?"

"None that I saw, good sir." He couldn't have missed Shou's meaning, but Harlol met the emperor's gaze with a level innocence that Llesho didn't trust at all.

Shou, however, was looking at Master Den, not the Tashek drover. Master Den gave him a slow, lazy blink that said nothing useful.

"On your head be it," Shou answered the unspoken challenge in a tone that said more clearly than words how much he doubted the wisdom of trusting the trickster.

But Master Den grinned and bowed and clapped a hand on the drover's back. "There you are. Didn't I say it would work out?"

Harlol wriggled out of the trickster's grasp to give Shou a bow even deeper than Master Den's and with a great deal less irony evident. "I will make my bed among the camels, since your man no longer tends them."

"Indeed." Shou dismissed the man with a warning glare at Master Den. Bowing hospitably, he led his guest's entourage to a room next down the hall from the one where they had begun the night.

"Come in," Shou said, "I won't keep you long, but we have to talk." The emperor stepped aside and Hmishi entered first, blocking the doorway until he passed a quick glance over the room in search of an ambush. When he gave the "all clear," Llesho entered, with Carina, Master Den, and Lling right behind him. Adar entered last and closed the door tightly after them.

A brass lantern from Shou's travel pack lit the room, where a man in the tunic and breeches of a servant busied himself setting out a camp chair for his master. Llesho noticed that, in spite of his low station, he carried himself with the bearing and muscles of a soldier.

"Sento," the emperor called. Ignoring the camp stool, he made himself comfortable on the rug spread out on the floor, squatting on his haunches in the Guynmer style. "Bring a bottle, please, and cups from my pack."

"Yes, sir." Well trained or unaware, Sento gave no sign that he guarded an emperor. He dug into a pile of rugs and tents heaped in the corner and returned bearing not one bottle but two, and a stack of small tin cups. Llesho hesitated, unsure how much the servant knew or how to begin the conversation they needed to have.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked, leaving it to the emperor to specify. He'd grown accustomed to speaking to Shou as the disguise of the moment called for, rather than with the formal court address due an emperor. Even when he hadn't figured out exactly what the disguise was. Then he thought about the standard saddle pack and larger bundle of tents and rugs of a caravan merchant dropped in the corner.

"You are the trader with twelve camels?" are the trader with twelve camels?"

"Of course. Who else could I trust to see you to the border?"

Llesho remembered his earlier question-where would the emperor find a trader foolish enough to take on three Thebin pearl divers as his only protection on the Thousand Li Road to the West. The answer, he realized, had a Shou sort of logic.

While Llesho dealt with his shock, the servant filled the tin cups and took up his position outside the door.

Hmishi made as if to follow. "How much do you trust him?"

"Enough. Sento has accompanied me before," Shou motioned them to take a seat. "No one will overhear us while he guards our door."

Llesho wasn't ready to trust the man-servant or soldier-yet. Master Den had already seen one of the emperor's party acting suspiciously. But then, trusting the trickster didn't make a lot of sense either. He was confusing himself, so he took a drink to settle his nerves and puckered up like a fish.

"Cider," Shou explained. "As a Guynmer trader, I honor the beliefs of that place, and neither serve nor indulge in spirits."

Llesho generally liked cider, had been drinking it with his dinner in fact. The Guynmer sort had a sour bite to it, though, and Llesho set aside the cup after just a couple of mouthfuls. He had too many questions to get through before he fell over, and he was in no mood to play Shou's spy games-not even with the cider.

"We could have been killed tonight."

"That's always a possibility," Shou agreed at his most irritating.

"Are we up against a plot to harm the empire?" Hmishi asked, almost hopefully, it seemed. That, at least, would mean it hadn't been meant for Llesho. Since he seemed to be asking the right questions, Llesho let him take the lead.

"What about that man Master Den saw running away from the fire? I saw him, too-didn't know he was yours, but he certainly wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the burning stable."

"He was mine, all right." Shou punctuated his assertion with an emphatic nod. "And with any luck he has made his way back to the palace, where he will advise the Lady SienMa of what has occurred here."

"Oh." Hmishi looked from the emperor to the trickster god and back again. "Master Den knew that?"

"Probably," Shou admitted.

"So you must have wanted this man Harlol for some reason."

"Not that I knew."

Master Den interrupted with a sigh. "Yes, I recognized an intelligence officer when I saw one. But we were still left without a camel drover. The Tashek are famous for their way with the miserable beasts, otherwise they're pretty mysterious. I thought" it would be interesting to have one around."

Picking the elements of truth out of that story would take more time than it was worth. Llesho figured that Master Den had some reason for wanting the drover in their party, and the emperor seemed to have decided to let further explanations wait as well.

"Did you find out who set the fire, or why?" Shou asked the trickster god.

"Take your pick." Master Den shrugged, denying higher knowledge of events. "The Harn who came in earlier in the evening might have wanted revenge for their hostile reception, or they may have recognked Llesho and used the fire to create a distraction, hoping to snatch him for the magician in the confusion. Or it might have been a personal vendetta having nothing to do with the Harn or our party. More than one merchant had stored his goods under the stable roof. It could have been a competitor, or even an accident with an unstable element in the trade goods." The trickster's eyes twinkled with mischief at the last possibility, but they all agreed to ignore the awful pun.

"If we wait to find out more, we'll raise suspicions about ourselves." Lling didn't look happy about her contribution to the debate, but there didn't seem to be much point in objecting.

"I guess if it happens again, it's us, and if the trouble stops here, it's not." Llesho didn't look any more convinced than his companions, and Master Den stated the obvious: "We are bound to meet trouble on the road, whether or not it has anything to do with tonight."

"Her ladyship will not let it be," Shou assured them. "If we are in danger from this, she'll find a way to warn us."

That pretty much ended the conversation for the moment. But Llesho wasn't finished with his questions for the emperor.

"I would have thought you were needed in the imperial city," he hinted.

"The Lady SienMa sits on the throne in my place." The emperor's eyes seemed to focus far from the room in which they sat, and Llesho wondered about that meeting, and what had put the mortal goddess of war in command of an empire. Shou gave his head a shake, clearing it of the thoughts he kept to himself. "Markko and his followers proved the empire has taken its own power too much for granted. Harnish war bands came into the imperial city from somewhere."

Llesho knew that-they'd both suffered losses in the recent fighting, and the emperor's habit of traveling his empire incognito was one of Shan's few closely guarded secrets. In his many disguises, Shou heard and saw much that would otherwise remain hidden from an emperor. It didn't explain what he was doing on the caravan road this time, however.

"But why Guynm?" Llesho had no choice. The northern passage through the Gansau Wastes was impassable even in early summer. Already the springs and watering holes that made the trek possible just after the winter thaw would have dried up. Even the nomadic Tashek people, who clung to the brief-lived oases in the spring, would have packed up their tents and moved farther south, searching for water.

Like the route out of Guynm, the Sky Bridge Road led south before turning west to the passes above Kungol. Longer than either the passage through the Gansau Wastes or through Guynm and the Harnlands, Sky Bridge was considered the safest route precisely because the Harn had no trading presence there. If they were going to find his brothers, however, they needed to go where the Harn had been. And that meant Guynm, whether they liked it or not. But Shou had no such constraints. Taking a sip of his drink, however, the emperor explained: "Guynm is Shan's most vulnerable border with the Harnlands. If Guynm Province falls, the empire stands open to its very heart. The Imperial Gaze has fallen elsewhere too long-it's past time I took a look."

Adar frowned, troubled. "So what are we likely to find when we reach Guynm?"

"If we're lucky, a stalwart governor and a Thebin prince or two, happy reunions, and a formal visit. Then I return to Shan in state, and you continue your journey."

The emperor gave a little shrug, as if to acknowledge his own doubts. "It is more likely that we will find a province that clings to the empire by a thread while it takes care to see nothing when Harnish raiding parties pass through. But I didn't expect trouble this soon."

The plan made sense if one assumed they didn't carry the spies and saboteurs with them. That wasn't a certainty right now. Llesho decided he should object, just as soon as he managed to pry his eyelids open again.

Adar's voice distracted him from his efforts to look alert. "More discussion can wait. If we are to be ready to go, we all need an hour or two of sleep."

Llesho agreed. His fingers and toes seemed to be a long way off and the distance between filled with a mist where his body ought to be.

"Help me get Llesho into his bed before he falls asleep where he sits," he added, and muttered, "I knew he wasn't ready to travel."

Llesho dragged his eyes open enough to catch a bleary glimpse of Master Den looking back at him. Then Adar had his left elbow and Carina his right, and he discovered that his legs did still work even if they didn't feel connected to his body. Before he knew it he was in their own room-he could tell because he recognized the baggage heaped behind a screen like the one in Shou's chamber. Then Adar was tilting him onto the bed and he let himself fall into the stiff mattress. Adar tucked in beside him with a kiss on the forehead and a quick prayer for a peaceful night.

Lucky for them that they journeyed with a god. Their prayers had so little distance to travel. The thought drifted away into the dark of Llesho's sleep. In his dream it was his seventh summer, and he lay in his small bed in the shadow of the great mountains of the gates of heaven, listening to the call of the caravans. His body remembered the thin air and the smell of pack ice melting on a summer breeze in the great passes to the West, and he struggled against the heavy air of the lowlands.

"Mother!" he called in his sleep, in the high tongue of Thebin.

"Hush. Hush." Adar's hand stroked a cool path across his forehead. It was okay if Adar was there. He'd be safe. He slept.

CHAPTER FIVE.

"OH, GODDESS!" Llesho woke with a snap just as the first rays of the great sun gilded the windowsill. He didn't notice the second sunrise, however, but made a dive for his travel pack, berating himself under his breath for how stupid he'd been the night before.

"Llesho? What's wrong?" Standing guard at the door, Lling came to attention with her sword in hand. Urgency sharpened her voice, waking the rest of their party who felt about them for their weapons. But there was no enemy to fight.

"We're not under attack," Llesho assured them, "at least not right now. But we forgot to consider a possible motive for the fire last night-" He dug into his pack, searching for the gifts that her ladyship had given him on the road from Farshore.

Master Den rose and stretched, the tips of his thick fingers brushing the ceiling at its highest peak. "You mean, that Master Markko might have wanted to clear the inn so that his thieves could have a go at your luggage?" he asked as he watched Llesho scramble on the floor.

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

"Not necessarily." The trickster god shrugged off the question. "No matter the diversion, however, the emperor would never have left these rooms unguarded. Luckily for Sento, the fire didn't take the inn as well as the stables."

Llesho shuddered. He'd known the man was more than a servant, knew that as soldiers they might all be called on to give their hves in battle. The idea that Shou's man might have stood fast, burning with the inn rather than abandoning his post, brought back memories of his own personal guard dying on the sword of a Ham raider in Llesho's seventh summer. He didn't want the people around him dying to protect his life and property, but it was going to get worse the closer they got to Thebin.

He found the wrapped shapes in his pack and pulled them out, took off their bindings to make sure that they were indeed safe. The jadeite bowl, a wedding gift in a former life, he took in his hands and turned in the morning light. Captured by the warm gleam of promises shining through the translucent jade, he spent a moment in quiet study. Something stirred in the back of his mind, like old forgotten memories, but they refused to come into clear focus. Wondering about its secrets, he set the bowl back in its wrappers and grasped the short spear by the shaft. The weapon had taken his life once and still thirsted for his blood. He hated the thing, but it came to his hand with the easy fit of long usage, and he marveled over how natural it felt there.

Master Den nodded at the spear. "Markko will know the legends. He'll want the spear because it is supposed to hold a deadly power over the king who wields it. That power goes two ways, however. You injured him with it before. Like yourself, he's had to heal, and he'll be wondering what control you now hold over the weapon."

Llesho hadn't considered that the bond might influence the weapon, but he had had hurt the magician with it. Markko would be wondering, now. He'd want to protect himself from the legendary spear as much as to turn it against Llesho. hurt the magician with it. Markko would be wondering, now. He'd want to protect himself from the legendary spear as much as to turn it against Llesho.

"We can use that," he said, and set the spear aside to carry on the road.

"If you're right that Markko is behind this-" Adar gestured at the window which opened onto the ash-drifted courtyard, "-carrying that thing openly will look like a direct challenge."

"And?" Llesho gave his brother a level stare.

Adar tilted his head back, eyes closed, and heaved a frustrated sigh. To Llesho's annoyance, Carina rested her hand on his brother's arm. "Adar is only worried about your safety."

The healer opened his eyes with a grateful smile. "Of course. How can we keep you safe, Llesho, if you make yourself a target?"

"Master Markko knows I have the spear. That makes me a target already. If he considers me a threat as well, it will slow him down, make him cautious, and that can work to our advantage."

"Listen to your king," Master Den interrupted before the disagreement could grow any more heated. "When it comes to a contest, we have to know which will rule- the weapon or the boy. Better to find out now than at the very gates of heaven."

"We need a living king, not a dead sacrifice," Adar snapped, though he let Carina soothe him.

"I don't intend to let it kill me." Llesho rose from his place on the floor with the spear in his right hand. His left he wrapped around the three black pearls-gifts of goddess and ghost and dragon-in the small leather pouch that lay on his breast. Hmishi and Lling gave Adar a polite bow, but followed Llesho from the room without a word or question, which seemed to please the trickster god immensely. Finally, with Carina's encouragement, Adar surrendered, bringing up the rear with a last objection: "We are going to regret this."

Llesho knew that, he just didn't see a lot of options. He wondered if he might win Carina's sympathy with the admission, but he didn't want her pity, and wouldn't accept it as a substitute for the care she seemed to offer his brother. So, he chided himself, chalk up another one to experience-or lack of same-and get your butt moving before the caravan leaves without you.

In the night, the fire that had burned the stables of the Moon and Star Inn had seemed all consuming, and Lles-ho'd expected signs of the disaster all over the cara-vanseray. Except for a thin gray mist that seemed to leave a gritty coat over everything, however, the broad square bustled with its daily business as if nothing had happened. Huang agents pushed their way through the crowd, bargaining final agreements while a thousand camels, annoyed to be rousted from their pastures and hemmed in on every side by the inns and counting houses and storehouses, milled and bellowed and spat thick, stinking gobs at their handlers. Drovers cursed their animals in a dozen languages, their voices blending with the shouted commands of the merchants and the smell of dusty camel and incense and bits of meat roasting on sticks. Through it all cut the high tenor clang of camel bells on harnesses and the deeper call of brass pots clattering where they were tied along the sides of the camel packs.

Surrounded by the familiar uproar of caravans gathering for the journey to the West, Llesho found himself caught up in memories both old and new-the present overload of sensation colliding with the memories of the great plaza of Kungol, where the caravans paused before daring the high mountain passes. Suddenly, images of the Harn raiders attacking the palace and killing everyone he knew mixed in his tired mind with the chaos of the night spent fighting the fire, freezing him in mid-stride. But Lling and Hmishi flanked him, their mouths hanging open and their eyes wide and shining.

The two ex-slaves had come to Shan from the poorest of the outlying farms of Thebin, packed in carts for the journey among the dour and threatening Harnish raiders. Nothing in their past, not even the marketplace at the center of Shan, had prepared them for the smells and sounds and crush, the sheer excitement of the greatest caravan staging area of the Shan Empire. Although they maintained the proper positions to guard Adar and Carina at the center of their party, they would convince no one who saw them now of their battle-hardened competence.

Their wonder was contagious, and Llesho caught their excitement, letting go of the past to grin back at them through the uproar. They might have stood there longer, gaping like bumpkins, but Emperor Shou's voice cut like a scythe through the din: the three cadets followed the sound of his curses down the slowly untangling line.

"Tighten that strap! Can't you see that beast is blowing out his ribs? We won't get two li down the road before he dumps five hundred tael of silk and pigments in the dirt!"

Experienced drovers looked up from their own work to watch the show, sneering behind their hands and with their own rude suggestions. The emperor nudged aside an inexperienced young groom and poked the camel in the ribs. The animal complained with a bellow, but his barrel grew noticeably thinner. Shou tugged on the cinch with a sure and practiced hand while he cursed, "The damned camel is smarter than you are."

If not for their meeting in Shou's rooms the night before, Llesho would have sworn the Guynmer trader with the dull clothes and the sharp tongue was a stranger with a vague likeness to the emperor. He even spoke differently, his voice higher and accented with the brisk twang of Guynm Province, though he hadn't changed his name.

"Shou, like the emperor," he announced, clasping Adar's arm as if they'd just met.

Llesho thought his heart would stop on the spot. The logical part of his mind knew that few of the emperor's subjects had ever seen their monarch, except in the ceremonial mask he wore on state occasions. But the battle-scarred part of him that sent Llesho skittering for cover whenever a servant dropped a tray reminded him that Markko's spies could be anywhere. At any moment he expected a pointed arm and a raised voice from among the camel drivers and hangers-on, exposing their true identities to the bustling crowd. Sento, Shou's personal servant and equally disguised guardsman, rolled his eyes behind his master's back, however, and the drivers and laborers smirked their sympathy.

"And I'm the Golden River Dragon," muttered a passing drover in a sarcastic aside. This was an old masquerade, then, taken up with the skill of a true caravanner at the emperor's need. His servants had heard the story many times, had grown weary of their pompous master's pride in an accident of naming, and even the other merchants who traveled this route knew the bragging of the Guynmer merchant.

"Where is that drover you recommended to me, healer?" Shou demanded of Adar. "I need someone who knows what to do with a camel or we will never leave the imperial city."

Before Adar could answer that he hadn't recommended anyone, it had been Master Den, a voice piped up between them.

"Right here, good merchant Shou." The Tashek drover, who had introduced himself by the name Harlol, wandered forward then, brushing straw and black mud from his hands. "Zephyr had a cut on her knee, but I've put a plaster on it and she should heal well enough on the journey."