"It was an accident. Just go!" Thero pleaded.

An accident? Seregil thought, hurrying next door. Not if the rhui'auros had anything to do with it.

To his considerable relief, Mydri asked few questions. He described the injury in general terms, and she mixed several infusions and a bowl of poultice. Eyeing the latter, Seregil hoped Thero was up to treating himself.

16 AN EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT

Thero kept to his bed through the next day. Having been bitten himself, Alec couldn't share Seregil's amused attitude and was happy enough to keep Thero's secret. He was thankful when Klia decided that he was of more use wandering at large than at the Iia'sidra. Aurenfaie deliberation was conducted at a glacial pace, every issue seemingly tied to centuries of history and precedent. Except for occasional visits to stay abreast of developments, he found other ways to occupy himself.

As a result, he saw little of Seregil during the day, and the evenings were taken up by a seemingly endless number of banquets with clans major and minor, each fraught with unspoken undercurrents of influence and will.

When they finally did reach their room again, sometimes only a few hours before dawn, Seregil either fell asleep immediately or disappeared up to the colos to pace in the dark. Alec had seen enough already to know the rejection Seregil faced each day. In public, all but a few avowed friends kept their distance. Members of the Haman clan made no secret of their animosity. As always, however, Seregil preferred to battle his demons alone. Alec's love might be welcome; his concern was not. Adzriel noted her brother's withdrawal

one night during a visit with Klia, and Alec's muted pain. Putting an arm about his shoulders, she hugged him and whispered, "The bond is there, tali. For now, let it be enough. When he's ready he will come to you."

Alec had no choice but to heed her advice. Fortunately, he had work of his own to do. As he became more familiar with his surroundings, he went more often alone and soon formed a few alliances of his own—and among the class he'd always been most at home with.

While the Iia'sidra and influential clan members spent their days in solemn debate, the lesser members of the various households frequented the city's makeshift taverns and gaming houses. Alec's bow was as good as a letter of introduction in such company. Unlike Seregil, most Aurenfaie were consummate archers and loved to argue makes and weights as much as any northland hunter. Some favored longbows; others carried gracefully reflexed masterpieces of wood and horn. But none had seen anything quite like his Black Radly, and curiosity almost always led to friendly shooting contests.

Alec had fashioned a few shatta from Skalan coins, and these were much sought after, but he generally won more than he lost and he soon had a respectable collection dangling from his quiver strap.

Such pastimes bore other fruit, giving him access to that most useful of resources, the careless chatter servants exchange out of their masters' hearing. Gossip was gold to any spy, and Alec quietly took note. In this way, he learned that the Khatme khirnari, Lhaar a Iriel, had taken an interest in Klia's occasional evening rides with the young Silmai horseman, Taanil i Khormai. Alec even managed to sow a few rumors about that himself, though the truth was that Klia found the man something of a bore.

Alec also picked up reliable rumors that the khirnari of several key minor clans supposedly aligned with friendly Datsia had been seen visiting Ra'basi tupa under cover of night.

Perhaps his most important discovery, however, was that the khirnari of Lhapnos had quarreled with his supposed ally, Nazien i Hari, over support for Skala, and that several of the Haman's own people had taken the Lhapnosan's side. Principal among the dissenters was Alec's nemesis, Emiel i Moranthi.

"This is a new development," Lord Torsin remarked as Alec made his nightly report to Klia.

The princess gave Alec a wink. "You see, my lord? I told you he'd earn his keep."

Their tenth night in Sarikali brought a welcome respite. For the first time since their arrival they had no outside obligations, and Klia sent word for the evening meal to be a simple, communal affair in the main hall.

Alec was in the stable yard passing the time with some of Braknil's men when Seregil returned from the Iia'sidra alone.

"Had a good day, did you, my lord?" Minal called out.

"Not especially," Seregil snapped, not slowing as he disappeared into the house.

With an inward sigh, Alec followed him up to their chamber.

"Aura's Fingers, I was never meant to be a diplomat!" Seregil burst out as soon as they were alone. A button flew across the room as he yanked off his coat. He flung it into a corner and the sweat-soaked shirt beneath quickly followed. Grabbing the ewer from the wash-stand, he stalked out onto the balcony and emptied it over his head.

"You might have been a bit more pleasant to poor Minal," Alec chided, leaning against the doorframe. "He thinks a lot of you, you know."

Ignoring him, Seregil slicked the water from his eyes and pushed past him into the room. "No matter what Klia or Torsin says, someone manages to twist it around into a threat. 'We need iron. 'Oh, no, you want to colonize the Asheks! 'Let us use a northern port. 'You would steal Ra'basi's trade routes?

"Ulan i Sathil is the worst, though he seldom speaks. Oh, no! He just sits there, smiling as if he agrees with everything we say. Then, with a single well-chosen comment, he throws everyone into an uproar again and sits back to watch the fun. Later, you see him gathering the uncertain ones around him, whispering and wagging his finger. Bilairy's Balls, the man's smooth. I wish to hell he was on our side."

"What can you do?"

Seregil snorted. "If it were up to me, I'd challenge the whole damn lot of them to a horse race and settle the matter! It's been done before, you know. What are you laughing at?"

"You. You're raving. And dripping." Alec tossed him a cloth from the washstand.

Seregil gave him an apologetic grin as he toweled off. "And how did you do today? Anything new?"

"No. It seems I've gleaned all I can among the friendlier folk, and

I still haven't found a way to wiggle in among the Haman or Khatme." He decided not to share how often his presence had drawn challenging stares and whispers of «garshil» in certain quarters. "In Rhiminee, all I had to do was change clothes and blend into the crowd. Here they mark me as outlander and guard their words. I think it's time I did a little nightrunning."

"I've broached the subject to Klia but she says to wait, honorable woman that she is. Be patient, tali."

"You counseling patience? That's a first!"

"Only because I don't see any other choice just now," Seregil admitted. "At least we have a night off. However shall we pass the time?"

Most of the others were already seated by the time they came downstairs for supper. Long tables had been set up, Skalan style, in the main hall, and Beka waved them over to seats at the end of Klia's table.

"I wondered where she'd gotten off to all day," Seregil muttered, seeing Nyal at her side.

"Behave yourself," Alec warned.

"You can thank your captain for the fine desserts and cheese we're having tonight," Nyal announced as they sat down.

"Me?" Beka laughed. "He got word yesterday of a trader's caravan coming in from Datsia. We met it outside the city and haggled the best pickings out of them before anyone else was the wiser. You've never tasted such honey, Alec!"

"I thought you looked like you'd found something sweet," Seregil remarked blandly.

Alec used Thero's fortuitous arrival to mask the kick he dealt him under the table.