"Then he is my friend, too."

"Find him. Tell him all that you know. Help him to escape if you must."

"That's what Miss Ana asked me to do."

"Then listen to her. Don't bother about the young one. He is not to be saved. Go. Lock me back up and go. Here, take the flask, and give it to Lazar. Use that as your excuse. If anyone asks, tell them that Miss Ana instructed you to do this. It will leave you blameless. Your leader clearly has no intention of harming her."

Ashar obediently took the flask that she anxiously pressed into his hands.

"Go, Ashar. Be safe."

"You, too, be safe," he said, his eyes trusting.

Ganya pushed him back out of her cell door. He carefully locked the door behind him. There were five cells. He tried two that were empty before the third opened to a sigh from the darkness. With the soft light that spilled from the small lamps in the corridor, he could just make out the figure on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest.

"Lazar?" he whispered.

"What?" The man spoke in Percherese. His meaning was clear, though Ashar didn't understand the word.

Ashar spoke in the desert language rather than Sharaic of the fortress. "I'm here to help," he tried.

"And who might you be?" came the reply in Khalid.

The youngster felt a spike of relief. They could comprehend each other. "I am called Ashar, I-"

"Salim's boy!"

"That's right."

"Your sister is-"

"I know. I also know about my father. I will avenge his death."

"With your own?"

"With your help, perhaps." Ashar slipped farther into the dark chamber.

"I am not in a position to do much right now."

"Miss Ana sent me to find you," Ashar whispered.

"Is she...?"

"She is managing. The pains are more frequent now."

"Where have they taken Boaz?"

"He is accommodated on a floor below Miss Ana."

"What are they going to do with him?"

Ashar shrugged. "I have not seen him. I know nothing about him, although our leader has specifically given me orders to take care of his needs."

"Arafanz obviously trusts you."

"Yes."

"All right, Ashar, listen to me. If you want to avenge your father's murder but you also want your sister and yourself safe, you will have to think with your head and not your heart. Right now nothing you do can bring Salim back. So do what he would want you to do: find a way to save Ganya and yourself. And I need you to help me get Miss Ana away from here, too."

"She asked me to help you get away. She is going nowhere, Spur Lazar. She is too frail, too heavy with child. She could move into the next stage of her birthing process anytime, or so I believe. I have watched camels give birth. It can't be much different."

Lazar smiled grimly in the dimness. "Not much," he said, a tone of irony in his voice. "Do you have access to the camels?"

"I know where they are kept. They will all be under cover now."

"I want you to get one readied for Miss Ana and one for yourself and sister. Two only."

"You're going to risk the Samazen?"

"Our chances are better out there than in here."

"What about you??"

"I will find a way, I promise you. Take your sister with you. Dress her as one of the hooded Razaqin. But have that camel for Miss Ana ready. Does she know her way to where they're kept?" The boy nodded. "Good. No one will be checking. Only a fool would be out in this storm."

"What about the Zar?"

Lazar shook his head. "I'm not sure how to help him. I fear he will kill Ana. I'm beginning to believe that's why he came with us into the desert in the first place. He is seeking revenge. I cannot permit him to harm her or the child."

Ashar nodded again. "Will you allow Arafanz to kill your Zar, then?"

Lazar looked lost. "No. He is the Zar and I must still consider his protection. Although the child now takes precedence." He sighed. "I swore an oath to protect the Zar. I cannot break that oath, will not break it."

Ashar didn't envy the Spur his choices. "I shall go," he said, moving toward the door. But before he could leave, they heard footsteps. Lazar just had time to raise his fingers to his lips before suddenly men blocked the doorway. As Ashar stood rooted in place, unsure of what to do, Lazar picked up the clay flagon, smashing it against the wall with a howl of rage.

"Tell him to go to hell. I'll drink not a drop unless it's his blood," he raged at Ashar.

"What's going on?' one of the men asked Ashar in Sharaic.

Lazar continued in the desert language. "I don't want Arafanz's pity or his water. Tell the boy to clear off," he yelled.

Ashar shrugged at his companions. "I was told to bring him water. Looks like he doesn't want it."

"He won't be needing it where he's going," the Razaqin replied. "He's been summoned to the ring."

Ashar nodded. Glancing toward Lazar, he hoped that the Spur could see that he would keep his end of the bargain although he couldn't imagine how Lazar would be able to do likewise. "I must get back to my post," he said dutifully. As he left, Lazar's cell door was closed behind him. Ashar took his chance and crossed the corridor to his sister's cell and quickly unlocked the door.

"Stay here," he hissed under his breath. "Don't move until I return, and if anyone asks, you know nothing about this unlocked door. They will likely not even notice." Ganya nodded. Closing the door, he ran down the corridor and up the stairs, passing the man returning to his post. "I left the keys on the hook," he said. "They're taking the man away."

"I heard. He's going to the ring. Can't imagine he'll survive it."

Lazar realized that Ashar would need some time to either fetch Ganya or let her know what was going on, as well as to be seen entering Boaz's room and going about his duties, so he distracted the three Razaqin who had been sent to fetch him by shouting obscenities. He knew they likely didn't understand, and frankly didn't care if they did. Finally he feigned exhaustion, collapsing. When one pulled him back to his knees, he put his hands together in supplication and, using gestures, made them accept that he needed to say his prayers.

The Razaqin nodded and Lazar took as long as he possibly could during the period of silence that they granted him to genuinely send a plea to Lyana to guide him this day and spare his life just long enough for him to save Ana's and that of their son. He also begged Lyana to guide him to do what was needed for Boaz. He wished Iridor would enter his mind; Iridor would help him to sort the confusion he was feeling.

The men manhandled him back to his feet and pushed him out of the cell door, bundled him down the corridor and up the rocky steps he recalled from earlier that day. After that he lost track of their path and had no choice but to follow the leader until he found himself being pushed into what felt like an arena. It felt cool, was presumably deep inside the belly of the fortress, especially as he could no longer hear the roar of the Samazen, and it was lit only by torches flaming around the walls.

The Razaqin had gathered. His quick estimate told him there were at least two hundred men. A small army indeed. The large chamber was eerily quiet as he was led in. Arafanz obviously enjoyed absolute control, for no one spoke, not even a murmur.

He was pushed into the ring, his robes ripped from him to leave him standing in only trousers and boots. The silence was heavy, and meant to humiliate, and he refused to buckle under the searing gazes of the fanatical group of men. Instead he bent his head and closed his eyes. He needed to gather his wits and all of his strength for whatever opportunity might present itself. He would not go meekly but he would gladly die if in doing so he could find a way to help Ana escape. Lazar did not expect to live beyond this day but he had to be sure that his son did.

Ashar checked on Ana, who was pacing.

"It helps in between the pains," she explained breathlessly. "One has just finished."

"How close are they?"

"Not close enough yet from what I know of childbirth. The baby is still hours away. It is not unbearable but I can't do much except focus on coping with the pain when it comes."

He nodded, moved closer. "Is my leader here?"

"No," she said, dabbing at her forehead. "He was briefly here to check on me but he has left. I don't know where he went."

"I do. He has gone to deal with Spur Lazar."

Her head snapped back. "What do you mean?"

"They came for him when I was there."

"You've seen him?"

"Yes, spoken to him. He insists that I get you out."

She shook her head sadly. "I can't go anywhere. What about him?"

Ashar shrugged. "He made me promise that I would have a camel readied for you and for the other prisoner."

"The woman?"

"Her name is Ganya, Miss Ana. She is my sister."

Ana steadied herself, leaning against Arafanz's bed, her face surprised. "You're sure? You've spoken with her?"

He nodded. "I recognized her immediately. The dead must wait, although I swear I will make Arafanz pay in blood for my father's death. You must come with me now. I have to get you both to the camels."

"Ashar, get your sister and get out of here. I cannot go. It is not only because I will slow you up but because Arafanz is coming back to fetch me. I suspect he wants me to see my lover and my husband being killed."

"He will not hurt you or the baby."

"I know. It doesn't matter. If he kills Spur Lazar, I will die anyway. I shall take my own life. He and the Spur ultimately want the same thing, which is the faith of Lyana returned to Percheron. But Arafanz chooses death and destruction to achieve it. Lazar will not allow him to kill the Zar if he can help it."

"Don't be too sure of that, Miss Ana. Do you remember where the camels are sheltered?"

"Yes. You put them in with the goats when there's a storm."

"Good. Whatever happens, I will have a camel ready there for you. Whether you are with me, with the Spur, or just alone, get there."

"The Samazen-"

"Spur Lazar says we are to take our chances with the sandstorm. I know the story, Miss Ana. You've survived it once before. You can again."

She smiled softly at him. "Your faith is vast, Ashar. I hope Lyana keeps you safe."

"And you, Miss Ana. I must go now. I have instructions to see to the needs of the Zar."

"Will you try and help him get away, too?"

"That is not part of my plan, no."

"You must, Ashar. He is the Zar of Percheron. You must not condemn him to death."

Ashar shrugged. "He is not my king, Miss Ana. And he is ordained by Zarab, whom I don't recognize. Your son is the only Zar to whom I will pledge fealty."

She reached for Ashar. "I am pleased that you are going to save yourself and your sister...and I am grateful to you for trying to aid Spur Lazar, but I beg you, Ashar, please do whatever you can for Boaz. He is not a bad person. He does not hate Lyana as Arafanz would have you believe. He doesn't know her; he was not raised in the faith. But I know him. He would like all that she represents, all she can teach him. Give him a chance. Please, I beg you. Take him with you and Ganya-keep him and Lazar apart." They heard footsteps. "They're coming for me," she said, suddenly frightened. "Go, take care of yourself," she added, pushing him away.

"Find your way to the camels, Miss Ana," he begged, before turning and slipping out of the chamber.

He ran as fast as he could to the lower level to do his duty for Zar Boaz, as Arafanz had requested. His leader would take exquisite pleasure in slaying the Zar in front of his followers but for Ana's sake Ashar intended to pay the young ruler appropriate respect, no matter if his life was already forfeit.

As he knocked on the door before entering, he decided he was no longer Razaqin, for he was already betraying Arafanz. No, first and foremost he was Khalid, and to reinforce that decision, he intended to let the Percherese ruler know that the desert people loved Lyana more than they loved any Zar. Ashar suddenly felt himself burning with a new passion. He was the son of a tribal chief, he was no fanatical spiritualist, and suddenly all he wanted was revenge for his family's name and to return to his tribe. He looked at the angry face of the man who was probably around the same age as he was. "Zar Boaz, my name is Ashar of the Khalid. I am here see to your needs."

"I need nothing but vengeance. Can you offer me that, Ashar of the Khalid?"

"I suspect you will not have time for reprisals, Zar Boaz. They will be coming for you next. They have already fetched Spur Lazar and your wife, the Zaradine."

"What do they intend to do?" Boaz asked.

Ashar enjoyed seeing the fear flit across the young ruler's face. "Why, execute you, of course. What else did you think Arafanz and his Razaqin want?"

Boaz's expression changed. He frowned, cocked his head to one side. "But not you, Ashar? Come in, please, and tell me what it is that you want."

29.