Beka grappled him to the ground but needed the help of three strong riders to hold the man down as he thrashed and cursed. Beka got an elbow in the eye for her trouble but held on blindly until the Haman suddenly jerked and went limp.

Peering up blearily, Beka found Alec standing over him, rubbing his fist.

"Thanks," she grunted, getting up. "Tie this madman up, Sergeant, and clear out one of the storerooms for a cell. If we've got to hang on to him, I want him behind a locked door!"

Mercalle motioned to her men, who dragged the unconscious Haman none too gently out the door.

Beka bowed to the Akhendi. "My apologies."

"Not at all," the older man replied, apparently shaken by what he'd just witnessed. "If you will excuse me, I must return to my wife. She's still not well."

"Thank you, Khirnari," Thero said, holding up the bracelet.

"Your help has been invaluable. I hope to learn more from this, as well."

"I'm unfamiliar with your methods, Thero i Procepios, but I caution you not to undo any of the knots. Once the magic of the object is so broken, no one will be able to tell anything from it."

"That shouldn't be necessary," Seregil replied, taking it and tucking it away for' safekeeping. "Captain, see that the khirnari gets home safely."

It was just as well that Beka went with the Akhendi. There was something different in the air today and tension hung over the formerly placid streets. It was nothing overt, just a sense she picked up as they passed too quiet taverns and small knots of people.

Nyal was waiting for her on the front steps when she returned. "You are exhausted, talia," he said, taking her hand and pulling her down beside him.

"I don't have time to be tired yet," she returned sourly, though she knew he was right. She ached with weariness, and the world was taking on a surreal glow.

"I hear Emiel did not exactly confess?"

For an instant, Beka saw the Ra'basi through Seregil's eyes—an outsider who asked too many questions. "That's not for me to discuss," she said curtly, and quickly changed the subject. "Our troubles have upset the general population, I think."

Nyal gave her a slanting smile. "Perhaps the Khatme have been right all these years. Let the Skalans into Sarikali and suddenly we have fistfights in the streets."

"Well, we'll be gone soon enough."

"Leaving havoc in your wake. This simple request of yours has brought a good many simmering clan disputes to a boil. Now, with the deaths, everyone suddenly has new reasons for distrusting their enemies."

"Have the clans ever gone to war among themselves?" Beka asked. Such a thing hardly seemed possible, even with all she'd seen lately.

Nyal shrugged. "They have, though not for a long time. It's not murder, to kill in war, but lives are cut short nonetheless. For a 'faie to shed 'faie blood—ah, Aura forbid! It's the worst thing imaginable."

Perhaps if she hadn't been so tired his words would not have rankled so. As it was, they burned like salt in a fresh wound.

"What do you know of war?" Beka snapped. "Your people sit

here, clucking their tongues at us, but when we try to get help saving a few hundred of our short lives, you sit on your hands, debating whether we'll pollute your blessed shores! Never mind that you've murdered one of our people and maimed Klia so that she may—"

She broke off abruptly, seeing the sentries nearby shifting in embarrassment. She was practically shouting.

It wasn't Nyal's fault, not any of it, but right now he seemed to stand for every slow-talking, law-spouting, way-blocking Aurenfaie in the land.

"I'm tired, and there's so much left to do," she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Rest awhile," Nyal said softly. "Sleep if you can."

She sighed. "No, we've got a pyre to build."

36 TESTING THE WIND

The confrontation with the Haman left Seregil oddly pensive. "Do you think Nazien was telling the truth when he said he'd support Skala?" Alec asked when the others had left the hall. "It's plausible. We'll go have a listen around town, see how the wind blows once word of all this gets around." "If we split up—"

"No," Seregil shook his head, frowning. "I still don't want any Skalan out alone anywhere."

Alec grinned. "Suddenly cautious, are we?" Seregil chuckled. "Let's just say even I can learn from my own poor example."

That evening, they wandered the city's taverns and squares, picking up threads of outraged opinion.

They went openly among the friendlier clans and heard Viresse alternately denounced and defended. Less was said against the Haman; word of Alec's discovery had not yet spread.

Later, they ventured into enemy territory, going so far as to scale the wall of Nazien i Hari's garden to see how the Haman were conducting themselves in the wake of the accusations. The house lay in darkness, with no smell of an evening meal.

"A sign of humility and atonement," Seregil whispered to Alec as they crept away. "Nazien's taking his nephew's actions hard."

By contrast, Viresse tupa was ablaze with light well past midnight. Keeping to the shadows, they spotted the sen'gai of half a dozen clans among the people out on the streets. The house of Ulan i Sathil was too risky to burgle, but lurking nearby, they saw the khirnari of Khatme enter, accompanied by Moriel a Moriel of Ra'basi.

Despite this apparent show of support, bands of Viresse watchmen patrolled the boundaries of the tupa, where angry supporters of Klia roamed looking for a fight. Many wore the green-and-brown sen'gai of Akhendi.

"Do you suppose that's a spontaneous show of support, or is our friend Rhaish i Arlisandin making certain his greatest rival is made uncomfortable?" asked Seregil.

"Perhaps we should pay Akhendi tupa one last visit."

The whole of the Akhendi delegation seemed to have taken to the streets for the night, and Seregil and Alec were hailed as friends, commiserated with, and plied with liquor and questions.

News of the poisoner's ring had sealed Ulan's fate in the minds of most, and some were convinced that the Haman were in collusion with him. All agreed that it was a great coup for Akhendi, having their most hated opponent besmirched with even the hint of scandal.

"We knew they'd do anything to protect themselves, but assassination!" a taverner exclaimed, treating them to mugs of her best. "Maybe the Khatme are right about too much contact with outsiders. No offense to present company of course. I'm talking of the Plenimarans."

"You won't hear us defending them," Seregil assured her.

Stopping in at another tavern, they met Rhaish i Arlisandin, accompanied by several younger kinsmen. The khirnari seemed surprised to see them.

"With all the unrest in the city tonight, we thought we'd stop by and see that you and your people are safe," Seregil explained, joining him at a long table and accepting a mug of ale.

"I thank you for that," Rhaish replied. "These are uncertain times indeed when the insidious weapons of Plenimar are found in Sarikali."

"It chills my heart," Seregil agreed. "I thought you'd be at Torsin's funeral."

Rhaish shook his head sadly. "As you say, the mood of the city is so uncertain tonight, I thought it would be better if I remained with my own people."

As if to underscore this, the sound of angry shouting broke out suddenly in the direction of Khatme tupa.

"Aura protect us!" Rhaish groaned, sending men to investigate. "See that none of our people are doing violence!"

"Perhaps you're wise to remain close to home," Seregil observed. "Those who struck at us may strike at our closest allies, too."

"Just as you say," Rhaish acknowledged wearily. "But surely the guilt of the Viresse is clear? Why hasn't Klia declared teth'sag against them?"