Chapter 5.

It didn't take long to reach the road beyond the woods, but the walk along the road to the city was dusty, hot, and boring. It would have been worse if the sun had been high in the sky, but once we left the shade of the trees we had the clouds to keep us from squinting and broiling.

Garam strode along at a pace that was just a little too fast to be comfortable, his pull on the leather adding to the chafing of the collar around my neck.

It took a small effort to keep up with Garam, but I had the distinct impression he wasn't trying to force me into asking him to slow down. If you've never been dragged along a road with your arms cuffed close behind you, you'll probably have trouble understanding exactly what it takes to keep up.

I made sure not to look at the fields that opened up to either side of the road beyond the forest, and by the time we reached the city I was close to believing those fields weren't there at all. I paid more attention to the people on the road, those heading toward the city and those walking or riding away from it.

Even at this time of day the new arrivals were fairly large in number, and Garam's dusty gray tunic, darker gray trousers, and black boots didn't bring a second look. His sword merited a glance or two, but even that was hardly unusual. Mercenaries often came to the city looking for hire, and if they were any good they usually found it.

The guardsmen at the gate made no effort to stop anyone from entering, and were really only there to make sure the wrong someones didn't leave. Slaves were kept chained and free men with silver or gold came and went as they liked, but those who were bondsmen - not quite slaves but not quite free either - were another story.

Bondsmen weren't supposed to leave the city until their bonds were worked off, and if one of them tried it he usually didn't get very far. It was the practice of the citizens to shave the head of any bondsman - or bondswoman - indentured to them, and anyone leaving the city without a retinue had to show a full head of hair. If they couldn't they'd d.a.m.ned well better be able to show an official pa.s.s instead.

Garam pa.s.sed through the gate and continued on a short way into the hurrying crowds, his head turning this way and that as he took in the first sights of the city, and then he stopped and used the braided leather to pull me up beside him.

"I wouldn't put it past some of this sc.u.m to cut my leather, steal you away, and then sell you off, slave," he said, talking to me but not looking at me. "If I thought you'd bring a decent price I'd sell you myself, but you won't so I won't bother. At least you save me the price of a streets.l.u.t - as long as I do you in the dark. Walk ahead of me, and none of that nonsense you tried on the road this morning."

He gave me a little push to set me in front of him, and just that easily the game was started. I let the push send me in the proper direction while making it seem as if I just happened to be going that way, and as we walked I flexed the muscles of my arms against the position the cuffs held them in. Garam probably expected me to be stiff and in pain by the time he freed me, but I'd been doing the exercises at intervals since the cuffs had first been closed on me to make certain there would be no trouble at all. It was a trick all Kenossi knew, and was so subtle a thing that even Garam, who walked directly behind me, never noticed it was being done.

When we reached our first destination I set my neck against the collar and tried to pull the leather lead out of Garam's hand. He let the leather slide a short way, then tightened his grip to yank we back to where I belonged, a faint look of annoyance touching his features. He aimed a backhanded slap at me which came very close to connecting, but I was able to roll with the blow and only seemed to get hit. After that I was shoved back to my place in the lead, and we went on.

Deeper into the city the crowds weren't as thick as they'd been near the gate, but the streets were a far cry from being thinly populated. Twice more we went through our routine of me trying to escape, and each time we reached a place where men of the army had been a.s.signed I tried to figure out why they'd been a.s.signed there.

The closest we would come to the central marketing section would be two twisty streets away, and there weren't even any guardsmen's kiosks in the designated locations. I hadn't been told why Fearin wanted men there, only that he did, and asking straight out had gotten me no more than a secret smile and a finger to the High Master's lips. His reasons weren't to be discussed, but presumably the men who followed casually with the crowds, some of whom I recognized, would know what to do when the time came.

As we approached our fourth stop, I decided it was time to use the variation of attempted attack. The area was wider than the others had been, a place of old buildings of wood that had sagged back far enough to allow small street stalls to be set up in front of them.

Hawkers sat or stood beneath tattered awnings of faded cloth, shouting out their wares or haggling with those who were trying to buy. What they offered was far below the quality of produce and goods to be found in the central market square, but because of that the offerings were also cheaper. The people all around sweated in the cloudy, oppressive heat, but were too involved with their selling and shopping and looking to take notice.

I waited until more than half the stalls were behind us before making my move, only fleetingly wondering what would happen if I actually did manage to escape. Before being enslaved I'd lived for a short time in this part of the city, which was the reason why I knew it to begin with.

Even with my arms locked behind me I could be gone from sight in a dozen heartbeats of time, and then I could - Spend the rest of my time waiting for Diin-tha to drop a building or a tree on my head. I shook a strand of damp hair out of my eyes in annoyance, annoyed that braiding hadn't kept the hair out of my way, annoyed with the people all around who didn't spend an instant's worth of concern on a slave, annoyed with myself for almost forgetting I was only pretending to be a slave. What I was doing right now was playing a game, but the taste and memory of slavery doesn't fade quite as quickly as some people think. It takes being a slave to really know what slavery is about, but the experience usually touches all the wrong lives.

Which led me to take a short breath and then turn on one of those who would really profit from the experience of being a slave. Garam was still pretending to be absorbed in sightseeing, but he was definitely watching me out of the corners of his eyes. That meant I didn't have to worry about surprising him, so instead of hesitating I went right for it.

I used my right foot to kick down hard on the braided leather, pulling it out of his hand, then shifted to follow through with a left-footed kick to his middle. Originally they'd wanted me torun after kicking the leather loose, but that would have put too much risk of success in the escape attempt. I'm faster than most at kicking and running, and for a fighter Garam was slower than he should have been.

Rather than run, then, I kicked at Garam to give him a chance to stop me. If I'd really been trying to escape I would have kicked to cripple him, but our Guardian Diin-tha wouldn't have liked my doing that. I had to make the try look as clumsy as possible, an amateurish effort Garam would have no trouble coping with - and that's when things started to go wrong. The hard-packed dirt of the street had a hole gouged out of it, and my deliberate clumsiness threw my balance off just enough to let the hole get the better of me.

Garam used his right arm to block my kick the way he was supposed to, but that was the last thing that went the way it should have. With his face twisted in supposed anger he swung that same arm in an arc to his left, then brought it across to hit me on the backswing. I was supposed to roll with that blow and probably could have salvaged the roll if my arms hadn't been behind me, but my arms were behind me so I couldn't do any salvaging. Garam's hand smashed into my face as I frantically tried to keep from falling, and then I was flying back and to one side to land hard in the dirt.

For a short time the entire city swung in a slow circle around me as I lay there, memory of the surprise in Garam's eyes the last thing I could remember clearly. I wasn't even aware of having hit the ground, only of the pain that came after contact, and my entire left side felt smashed. As I shook my head to drive the dizziness away I didn't think anything really was smashed, but it sure as h.e.l.l felt like it.

My vision began to clear after the headshake so I looked up, just in time to see Garam start toward me. He seemed to be fighting to look furious rather than worried, and despite the pain that observation amused me. I'd been determined to kill him if he hurt me and he'd been determined to do it anyway, but here I lay cursing at my own clumsiness and there he strode worrying about the state of my health. The situation was the sort to make the G.o.ds roar out their laughter, which was why I had such a low opinion of the sense of humor of deities.

And then, of course, to the certain delight of the G.o.ds, things got worse. Garam was, at most, two strides from me when a shadow fell across my body and I had to look way up to see whose shadow it was. Most of the people in the crowds had either laughed or ignored the matter when Garam hit me, but the man standing very tall to my right was neither laughing nor ignoring. He stood looking across at Garam with a very ugly expression on his face, something the fighter noticed quickly enough to stop a pace and a half away.

"You seem to enjoy knocking girls around," the stranger rumbled to Garam, his deep voice very cold. "It probably makes it better for your sort that her arms are tied. If they weren't it might not have been safe enough for you to hit her."

Garam's skin darkened as he fought to control his temper, and I had to grudge him the admission that he didn't look as nervous as most would be in his position. The stranger was really big, broad as well as tall, wearing supple leather leggings which disappeared into high, soft-soled boots, both of a dark reddish-brown. Rather than wearing a tunic the man stood bare-chested, and the array of weapons closed around his waist added to the belief that this was a barbarian of some kind from the hinterlands. His long blond hair was close to the color of Fearin's, but his blue eyes were much lighter and he wore nothing of a beard.

"That's not a girl I was knocking around," Garam said after a moment, his head high, his gaze locked to the stranger's. "That's a slave lying there in the dirt, my slave, and I can do anything I d.a.m.ned well please to her. If you're having trouble understanding that, I'll be glad to ask some of the city guardsmen to explain the law to you."

The last thing we wanted was to get involved with the city guardsmen, but the stranger didn't know that. He may have been a barbarian, but the way he tensed just a little showed he knew the trouble he'd have if guardsmen were called. His left palm caressed the hilt of one of the two swords he wore, just as though he were considering starting a fight anyway, but abruptly hecame to a different decision.

"All right, then I'll buy her from you," he stated, apparently seeing nothing of the shocked vexation ghosting for a tick across Garam's face. "From the way you treat her she can't be worth much to you, so name your price."

I felt the absurd urge to get to my feet and tell that stranger to mind his own business, but that wouldn't have helped anything at all. I glanced at Garam to see a very odd look on his face, and had the sudden conviction that he was laughing inside. If he named a price and the stranger was able to meet it, would Diin-tha be able to accuse Garam of deliberately selling me? The possibility really seemed to be tempting him, but then he must have remembered that I hadn't finished my job as guide and I had another job to do after that. He raised a hand to rub his face as he studied the stranger, and then he showed a small smile as he shrugged.

"Oh, but this slave is worth quite a lot to me," the fighter a.s.sured the stranger, a smooth greasiness now in his voice that every seller in that market would have recognized. "The only question is, how much is she worth to you?"

"You expect to walk away with every copper I have," the stranger said very flatly, showing he wasn't as innocent as the average barbarian who visited the city. "I'll tell you right now what I'm prepared to pay, and there won't be any bargaining. One silver piece."

"That's not good enough," Garam answered, his expression deliberately neutral, most likely in an effort to keep the stranger from drawing on him. "If you change your mind and decide later that she's worth more after all, I won't be hard to find. Right now you can step back away from my slave."

The stranger's head went up even higher as his jaw tightened, and for a tick I believed we had a fight on our hands. I was trying to figure out how I might mix in without giving the game away when the G.o.ds decided they'd had enough fun at our expense and it was time to let us get on with what we were supposed to be doing. The people on the street suddenly began to move out of the way of a section of guardsmen who were marching in rank, and with a quick glance in their direction the stranger turned fast and slid his way deeper into the swirling, surrounding crowd. Despite his size the man was quickly gone, and then Garam was bending over me.

"Mark my words, he'll be back with a higher offer," the fighter chortled, mostly to cover the almost-gentle way he lifted me to my feet. "That sort always has to meddle, and he won't be happy until it's his own throat you're jumping for. It's a shame his eyesight's so poor, but his loss will certainly be my gain."

The few people who had gathered at the prospect of a fight chuckled their agreement with what Garam had said, then they drifted away with good-natured disappointment. With the lead-leather in his hand the fighter headed off at a stroll in the direction opposite to the one the stranger had taken, but his out-loud playacting wasn't yet over with.

"Yes, as soon as he meets my price you'll be his, girl," he said with a snicker, moving slowly so that he might watch my face. "They say barbarians are hard on the women they take, but the women seem to love it. Are you ready to love it?"

I showed him my teeth with a very low snarl, and that was enough to let him laugh in triumph.

He'd finally succeeded in forcing me to acknowledge one of his sallies, a reaction I'd given him on purpose in the hope that it would then be out of his system. Being back on my feet and walking was bringing out the aches I had from the fall, and all I wanted was to get on with that guiding job until it was finished.

Since Garam was leading me in the direction we had to go anyway I hadn't resisted, but suddenly he turned a corner to the right that took us into a dead end between an abandoned stall and the blank back end of a splintery wooden building. There was barely enough room for us to stand facing one another in the garbage that had acc.u.mulated back here, but the fighter raised his hand in a demand for silence, slid back to the corner to peer around it, then returned to stand opposite me.

"We can only stay here for a handful of ticks, so tell me quickly," he whispered whileinspecting me narrowly. "How badly were you hurt?"

"I was bruised worse than this during my first Trial as a Life Seeker," I answered in a matching whisper, faintly surprised that he was bothering to ask. "You don't have to worry, I can still do what I'm supposed to."

"That bruise on your face may make it harder to stay unnoticed at the Guest Pavilion," he grumbled, not as pleased with his handiwork as he should have been. "I thought you weren't going to have any trouble keeping out of my way?"

"Our Guardian must like you better than he likes me," I said with a shrug, not caring to make any more of an excuse than that. "Don't you think we ought to get back to it?"

"After I take care of our supposed reason for being in here," he said, still not in any way happy with me. "And from now on we'll be doing things differently. When you reach the next location, don't try to escape or attack me. Let something catch your eye that you slow down to stare at, and I'll curse at you for almost tripping me, then shove at you to get you moving again. That will do for the signal, and should also make sure I don't have to turn down any more offers for you. I was able to do it once, but a second offer might prove too tempting to resist."

He gave me a very bland look as he picked up the collar leather he'd dropped, then turned his back on me and moved a few steps to the right, deeper into the alley. I didn't know what he was doing until I heard the sound of water striking the wood of the old building, and with complete understanding of his prepared excuse for stepping into the alley came a reason for giving thanks that he'd thought of it to begin with.

The head that edged around the corner from the street belonged to a narrow-faced, scruffy specimen, but one who had let a hint of cruel power show briefly on his face. The man was without doubt a city spy, but his abrupt disappointment showed that he'd expected a scene very different from the one he was looking at. The smell in the alley said it was far from unusual for men to stop here to relieve themselves, and the infraction was so minor that it wasn't even worth the spy's time to report Garam for breaking the law. The head shook once in total dismissal before withdrawing, having no idea that I'd seen it checking up on us, and that was the end of that particular suspicion.

When Garam finished up his excuse for our being in the alley, we continued on our way. Twice I had trouble finding something sufficiently interesting to stare at when we reached a location, so the first time I used the face of a very old man, and the second a deep rut in the dirt that could only have been made by something very heavy. Our new arrangement worked out well, though, but only after I realized I'd have to help out the shoves I got. Garam was apparently trying to make sure nothing else happened to me, and that was a point of view I didn't care to argue with.

The shadows of the end of the day were already growing and spreading by the time we reached the last location. The crowds that had been everywhere were thinning down to those who had one or two final ch.o.r.es to see to before going home, and Garam took the opportunity to stop and ask directions to the closest hostel that "didn't charge everything a man owned" for a night's bed and fare. The shopkeeper he asked was hurrying to board and lock his shop before the sun was entirely gone, so the directions Garam was given did nothing more than supply us with a reason for turning off the way we had intended to turn to begin with.

The turning off took us through two narrow streets that followed one another, and just before the end of the second street I ducked into a crack between two buildings that was hard to see if you didn't know it was there. Garam followed without hesitation, joined me in standing there just listening for a long string of ticks, and then, when it was close to certain that no one had seen or followed us he turned as best he could to face me.

"Is this where you're going to stay until the first bell of the night watch?" he asked, his lowered voice still heavy with doubt. "It looks like the perfect place for the rats of the city to take refuge in."

"It is and they do, which is why I'm not staying here," I answered, turning around to give himbetter access to my wrists. "Can you see well enough to unlock these cuffs?"

"If I can't, you can strike a light and hold it for me," he said with a grunt, the sarcasm dimmed in the face of the struggle he was having with his pack. "By the greatness and glow of the High One, girl, couldn't you have found a narrower crack for us to crawl into?"

I would have enjoyed answering him in the same vein, but that was not the safest place in the city for private conversations, only the closest, and I didn't want to distract him from finding what he needed to free me. Too much time pa.s.sed to the accompaniment of low mutterings that sounded like cursing, and then the sounds cut off just before hands touched my wrists. A bit of fumbling and then the sound of a click, a little more fumbling and a second click, and then the weight of the iron was finally gone from my arms.

"Stand still and let me do the collar," Garam ordered in that same low growl, apparently annoyed that I'd brought my arms forward to rub at them. "Unless, of course, you'd rather I left the thing on."

"At this point I don't think it'll make all that much difference," I muttered, this time feeling the fumbling at neck level before hearing the necessary click. Garam lifted the collar away from me, but didn't shift immediately to put it in his pack.

"What do you mean, it won't make that much of a difference?" he demanded, his tone aching to be louder than he'd kept it. "And why does this thing feel wet? What could have gotten spilled on it?"

"My blood got spilled on it," I answered, again unsurprised that he hadn't noticed even in full daylight. "When I was healed the scabs and calluses I'd built up were sent away with the rest, so I had no protection against the collar. Anyone who sees me will know why my neck is bleeding, and that's why the presence or absence of the collar will make very little difference."

"And you didn't say anything back at camp, when we could have thought of a way around the problem?" he demanded, the sole mode of speech he seemed to have left. "What in the widest h.e.l.l do you expect me to do to keep people from seeing you?"

"That part of it I get to take care of," I replied, breathing deeply to get a more accurate sense of the city. "Give me the rest of my things and then you can leave. You know how to get where you're going from here?"

"Yes. I know how to get where I'm going from here." The words sounded as though they were being forced through tightly clenched teeth, and it probably wouldn't have made any difference if I'd told him I hadn't realized what the collar would do to me until it was too late to say anything. I also could have pointed out that I'd spent a lot of time in front of him, and if he'd bothered to look he would have seen what was happening, but that comment would have done even less good than the explanation.

Without adding any further words he stuffed my former collar in his pack, pulled out the tunic wrapped around a knife and thrust the bundle into my hands, and then he was edging out of the crack to be on his way. I turned far enough to see that he wasn't silly enough to back out, and then stayed only long enough to watch his shadow-form slip away to the right, back in the direction we'd come from. Once he was gone I went to my knees, then crawled three-legged to the left and the hole in the wall that was there.

The hole let me through into the abandoned building, behind a stack of bales containing something that had gone badly spoiled a long time before. I listened carefully for a while to make sure I was alone, then quickly stripped off the slave rag, dabbed at my neck with it before tossing it away, then got into my tunic. The tunic was a solid dark green, silver trim being less than desirable for night work, and the knife was a dagger that I very well might need. I was more tired than I'd expected to be, and when your own strength isn't full and sure the wise Life Seeker falls back on weapons-skill.

I left the abandoned building by a different hole hidden in another wall, heading for the place I intended to spend my rest time. That Guest Pavilion Garam had mentioned... It was more of a small palace than a pavilion, and I would have to get into it, find the two women Diin-tha wantedprotected, put the women together, then guard them until the city was won.

"As soon as it looks like the city is lost, they'll kill the two girls," Fearin had told me the day before, the idea of that no more than annoying him. "If you let anyone get past you, anyone at all, our victory will be incomplete even if the city officials turn around and declare for us."

"Why will they consider it so necessary to kill two women?" I'd asked, feeling a good deal more than annoyed. "How can the two be so important?"

"You'll find that out if you keep them alive," Fearin had countered, his dark blue eyes amused.

"In the gathering everything is shared, including most information. Do you think you can do it?"

I made a soft sound of ridicule as I checked the street before easing out into it, the same sound I'd made when Fearin had first put the question. It didn't matter whether or not I thought I could do it, it was more than clear Diin-tha thought I could. And what the G.o.ds believe had d.a.m.ned well better happen, or the mortals involved were in for it up to their necks and beyond.

I blew out a breath of vexation through my teeth, cursing myself for a fool. Most people were bright enough to involve themselves with no more than a single G.o.d; I, a former Kenoss Life Seeker, had to be idiot enough to become involved with two. I shook my head as I made sure the street around me was empty for the moment, then took myself into the place where I would wait for the time to strike.

Chapter 6.

I stood in the shadows beside the inner wall surrounding the Guest Pavilion, listening to the night sounds that told me what I needed to know. It was only a short time past the first bell of the night watch, but things were already settled back to the careless ease that the guardsmen on duty there might live to regret. When you're set to guarding a place that's what you're supposed to be doing, not using your post as a place to waste time until you're relieved.

It had taken almost no effort to get over the wall, and neither the guardsmen outside the three gates nor the ones inside them had had any idea I was there. I'd paused very briefly before scaling the wall, wondering why there were guardsmen on the inside as well as outside, then had shrugged and gone ahead with what I was there for. Since both sets of guardsmen were equally sloppy, it really made no difference why they were there.

The gra.s.s under my feet was part of the wide lawn leading up to and surrounding the Guest Pavilion, and I could smell the sweetness of that gra.s.s as I stood there tasting the air and listening. The front of the miniature palace had guardsmen of its own, five shapes that shifted more than they should in the soft pink glow of colored lanterns, and I'd already seen the five matching shapes around the Pavilion's back. It was difficult to know if they were there to keep people out or hold them in, but for my purposes it didn't matter. I had to get past them going in, but coming out they would be someone else's concern.

To the right of the three-storied Pavilion was a pretty stand of trees, black and graceful shadows in the darkness of the night. Not a single leaf moved on any of the trees, not with the stifling weight of the night's heat sitting on everything, and that was unfortunate in more ways than one. When I climbed one of those trees to reach the second floor of the Pavilion, I'd have to do it slowly and carefully enough to keep the leaves unmoving. I'd also have to do it in that heat, which made me feel more like lying down than indulging in exercise.

I straightened up where I stood and took in a deep, silent breath of air, banishing all awareness of weariness from my mind. Whether I was in peak condition or not I had a job to do, and if that job didn't get done right Diin-tha would see to it that I never reached peak condition again.

Excuses were unacceptable, an outlook the Inadni shared with the G.o.ds, which made it an outlook I was well familiar with. It doesn't matter whether you want to; just go and do it.

I circled around the wall until I was opposite the stand of trees, then went and did it. Keepinglow and blending with the night took me unseen across the dark expanse of that lawn, and then it was just a matter of getting high enough in my chosen tree. Bark sc.r.a.ped my hands and the bottoms of my feet, gently at times, not so gently at others, but it was all accepted the same. I used a higher branch that wasn't too concerned about my weight to swing down to the second floor windows level, then shifted to the narrow stone ledge and decorative carvings provided by the building.

A pretty little balcony stood out from the side of the Pavilion, and since that was almost certainly the balcony I'd been told to look for I made my way over to it. During the day the balcony would be partially shaded by one of the trees, but none of the branches providing the shade could be used for climbing even if they could be reached. The balcony should have been considered secure, so there was every chance the doors leading onto it would be unlocked.

And the doors were unlocked. I opened one of them a crack and listened, then slipped inside and closed the door behind me. In front of my nose was a pretty silk hanging which covered the balcony doors, muting the light coming from the room beyond the hanging. Why the doors were closed and the hanging drawn on a night like this I couldn't imagine, but it certainly did make that part of my job easier. The room on the other side of the silk was not only lit it was inhabited, and as I moved silently to my left away from the doors I began to listen to what was being said.

"... find this situation intolerable," a young female voice was announcing stiffly, as though to a large audience. "Go back and tell him that we will not accept having slaves to serve us only while the sun rides the sky, and that we will begin to have parties as often as we wish them. If he finds that unacceptable, we intend to make immediate arrangements to return to our father."

"I can understand, Your Highness, how you and your lady sister must be suffering from this heat," a sleek male voice answered, all oil and no substance. "I, myself, have been behaving most unreasonably, as has nearly everyone in the city. Once the G.o.ds see fit to allow us a change in the weather I'm sure you'll both be a good deal happier. Until that time comes, though, you really should draw your drapes and open your windows."

"Drawing drapes and opening windows are ch.o.r.es for slaves, not us," another female voice said very haughtily, a voice very much like the first one. "There's no reason for us to lower ourselves, not when this city boasts the number of slaves that it does. We want our slaves back and we want them now, or we're returning to our father and telling him how you've been treating us."

"Your Highness, this has certainly all been explained to you and your lady sister," the man answered, the faintest edge of impatience coloring his tone. "The time of darkness is when we must be most alert, and having slaves running all about will interfere with our security precautions. You two are most precious to us, after all, and we mean to see that nothing happens to you. Once the time of the prophecy has pa.s.sed - "

"You stupid people and your stupid prophecy!" the first female flared, accompanied by a small sound like a foot stamping. "It's not us you're worrying about it's your vile city, and what are we supposed to care about that? You're keeping us locked up here for your sake, not ours, and we demand to be allowed to return home at once!"

"Your Highness, you'd best realize that it was your father who sent you to us to begin with,"

the man returned, only just able to keep his voice even. "Since your fate is bound up with ours in some way, until the time of the prophecy is pa.s.sed you will remain our ... guests. If it disturbs you so greatly to have no slaves attend you after dark, I'm sure the Chief Administrator will be pleased to give you his permission to retire early. As for parties, they are completely out of the question. I bid you both a pleasant evening."

By now I was in a position to see through a fold in the hanging, so I was able to see the man's bow to the two girls before he turned and left. I recognized him vaguely as one of the city's silk-ax men, one of those who took care of trouble without running a squad of guardsmen overthe troublemakers, and it was fairly clear that he was in the Pavilion doing his job. The two girls he'd worked on, though, were furious rather than soothed, and I wondered if he usually handled his job in just that way.

"Don't you dare walk out of here before being dismissed!" the second girl shrilled with fists closed tight. "You miserable city-peasant, you commoner! Don't you dare!"

"He's gone!" the first girl cleverly observed, as furious as the other. "Pia, he left without asking our permission! This city is filled with barbarians, stinking, filthy barbarians!"

"Well, come tomorrow this city won't be filled by us," the second girl announced in a coldly refined way, tossing her head. "While we breakfast the slaves will pack our things, and then we'll take our guardsmen and leave. We'll teach them to treat us like commoners."

"Didn't our guardsmen return to Father?" the first girl asked, turning to look at her sister. "I thought I heard someone say they went back the morning after they brought us here."

"If they did, then we'll just make these barbarians replace them with city guardsmen," the second girl answered, waving one graceful hand in dismissal. "Really, Lia, you worry about the most unimportant things. Much more to the point is where are we going to find room for our new gowns? We may have to send a slave to buy another trunk or two, and that's certain to delay us."

"Not if we see the slave well-beaten before we send him," the first replied, tapping her lips with one finger. "Yes, that will guarantee he doesn't waste any time, so we won't be delayed.