"I thought as much, but I had to ask." The necromancer's eyes narrowed to slits. "Tell me as best you can what has happened to you since you entered." When Kentril had related to him everything as detailed as the fighter could, Zayl frowned. "An interesting but uninformative tableau."

"What did you expect me to tell you?"

"I do not know… just that I felt that something should have given a hint to our next course of action." The necromancer sighed. "I will return to my quarters and meditate on it. If you should recall some significant moment that you forgot to mention, please come to me at once."

While he doubted very much that he had forgotten anything of value, Kentril promised Zayl that he would do as the spellcaster desired. As Zayl departed, Kentril suddenly thought again of his present condition, realizing that he had stood among the nobles and before the people of Ureh dressed in dusty, worn garments. Although it was already too late to rectify that situation, he could at least present a better image when next anyone, especially Atanna and Juris Khan, saw him. Surely now would be the time to don the regal dress uniform he had worn at the private dinner. At the very least, it would serve him until he could procure other appropriate clothing.

He started for his quarters, only to see down the hall Gorst and Tsin. The Vizjerei seemed quite disturbed by something the giant was saying, and when Tsin noticedKentril, he glared at the captain as if the latter had just burned down Ureh's treasure trove of magical tomes.

An uneasy feeling coursed through Kentril, and the glance Gorst gave him over his shoulder only strengthened that uneasiness. He picked up his pace, praying that he had read their faces wrong.

"I told him," Gorst said as his commanding officer neared. "I had to."

"By the seven—eyed demon Septumos, Captain Dumon! What were you thinking? Why was I not informed? Is everything this cretin said about the caverns and Gregus Mazi truth? I find it hard to believe—"

"If Gorst told you, then it's true," Kentril replied, cutting off the sorcerer's tirade. He had no time for this. What had the other mercenary been thinking? Gorst usually had a level head. Why would he include Tsin without first discussing it with his captain?

The Vizjerei shook his head in disbelief. "I should have been down there! Gregus Mazi! So many things he could've explained!"

"There wasn't much of anything that he could explain." Kentril eyed Gorst, who did not look at all ashamed. "You did tell him how we found Mazi, didn't you?"

Gorst nodded. "Everything. I had to, after what Master Tsin said."

"And what was that you said, Tsin?"

Drawing himself up, the robed sorcerer muttered, "I still don't know if this brute here has a point, but—"

" What did you say that set Gorst off, Tsin?"

For once he had made the Vizjerei uncomfortable. "The one trait that makes this one here more tolerable than the rest of you is his proper respect for all things magical. Because of that, I tolerated his questions about the work involved in casting my great spell. He wanted to hear about the difficulty and how I overcame it. He also—" Tsin broke off as Kentril stepped closer, hand on the hilt of his sword. "I'm coming to it! I told Gorst about the patternsand incantations I'd created to undo the clever binding of the curse and how all proceeded as smoothly as I'd expected it would."

If the bragging did not cease quickly, Captain Dumon suspected he would soon try to throttle the spellcaster regardless of the consequences. "Everything went well. You expected that. Not one hitch. I assumed—"

"Then you assumed wrong, cretin," the bearded figure snapped. "There was one point when I feared that all my hard work would come to naught, when something outside my control nearly ruined a carefully prepared work of art!" Quov Tsin tapped his staff on the floor. "I expected trouble only from the girl, a skilled wielder of power but one far too distracted by daydreams…" At this, he frowned hard at Kentril, an obvious hint to the captain being the cause of those distractions. "What I did not expect was someone as well—versed, as well—trained, as our host nearly to turn it all into disaster!"

"What did he do?" Kentril asked, suddenly unconcerned with such mundane things as dress uniforms and marrying the daughters of lords.

Tsin snorted. "Like a first—year apprentice, he did the unthinkable! We had come to the threshold, the point where there could be not the slightest fraction of an error. I had the girl drawing together the proper forces, while I, guiding them by words and gesture, worked to reverse that which had turned flesh, wood, and stone to one. Had it been more than simply his legs, the complexity might have been too great even for me, but, fortunately, that was not the case. I—"

"Tsin—"

"All right, all right! He moved, cretin! Juris Khan, whose task was to focus his power, his will, from within in order to foment changes to the spell structure of his own body, moved!"

The Vizjerei leaned back, as if what he had said explained everything. Kentril, however, knew that there had to be more. Gorst did not overreact.

"He did more'n just move," the giant interjected, now as impatient as his captain with the sorcerer. "Tsin says he almost leapt up, Kentril! Leapt up as if someone lit a fire underneath him. And from how Tsin describes it, I'd say it happened right about the time you put the dagger through Gregus Mazi's chest."

FOURTEEN

Gorst's unsettling suggestion remained with Captain Dumon long after the three had separated. Kentril did not yet know what to make of the notion that somehow Juris Khan had reacted to Mazi's death, but the implications did not bode well. That Tsin had been unable to offer any other idea that sufficiently explained the reaction did not help, either.

Despite that, the Vizjerei had not completely accepted Gorst's concerns that their host hid some secret from them, and neither could Kentril. However, the captain had to admit to himself that a tremendous part of his own reluctance had to do with the honors Lord Khan had bestowed upon him, especially the upcoming marriage to his daughter. As for Quov Tsin, his reasons for reluctance were even more obvious; the vast collection of Ureh's magical library lay open to him for as long as he had the good graces of the elder ruler.

Sleeping on it did little good for Kentril, for even his dreams turned to the troubling development. In truth, he welcomed the unexpected knock on his chamber doors, for the noise stirred him from a dream in which Juris Khan proved to be Gregus Mazi in disguise and Atanna the willing lover of the masked villain.

Although he hoped that it would be Khan's wondrous daughter at the door, Captain Dumon instead found himself facing a rather pensive Albord. Kentril's first fear was that some of the other men had gone missing, but the younger mercenary quickly erased that fear. Unfortunately,in its place he presented one that in some ways disturbed his commander even more.

"Captain, the men want to leave."

"No one goes into the city until I say so."

Albord shook his head. "Captain… they want to leave Ureh. They want to go home… and I think they should be able to."

This time, Kentril could think of no good reason to hold them back. He had a life offered to him here, but the others wanted only to return to the Western Kingdoms. They might have even had their rewards by now if not for his own hesitation.

"All right, give me a few days, and I'll see that our host makes sure each—"

Now Albord looked even more uncomfortable. "Captain, Jodas and Orlif have already talked to him."

Kentril almost seized the white—haired mercenary by the throat, but fought back the impulse before he could betray himself. "When? When did they do it?"