"There is a bow trained on your heart. Stop where you are. My servant will kill you happily if you do not declare yourself," said Shirin of the Greens.

It seemed wise to stop where he was.

He had no idea how she'd known he was there, how she'd had time to summon a guard. It also occurred to him-very belatedly-to wonder why he'd assumed she would be sleeping alone.

Declare yourself, she'd ordered. He did have his self-respect.

"I am Heladikos, son of Jad," he said gravely. "My father's chariot is here. Will you come ride with me?"

There was a silence.

"Oh, my!" Shirin said, her voice changing. 'You?

Speaking quickly, in a low tone, she dismissed the guard. After he'd left she swung open the door to the balcony herself and Scortius, pausing to bow, entered her chamber. There came a light tapping at the inner door. Shirin crossed, opened it only a crack, accepted a lit taper from the servant briefly revealed in the hallway and then closed the door again. She moved about the room lighting candles and lamps herself.

Scortius saw the bedcovers in disarray. She had been asleep; was dressed now, however, a dark green robe buttoned high over whatever she wore to bed, if anything. Her dark hair, cut short, just reached her shoulders. A fashion emerging; Shirin of the Greens set fashions for the women of Sarantium. She was barefoot, high-arched, moving dancer-light over her floor. He felt, looking at her, a quick pulse of desire. This was a very attractive woman. He loosened his cloak, let it fall to the floor behind him. He began to feel a measure of control returning with the warmth. He knew all about this sort of encounter. She finished with the candles, turned back to him.

"I take it Thenai's was with her husband?"

Asked it with such a wide-eyed, innocent smile.

He swallowed hard. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Watched her sit, still smiling, on a cushioned seat near the banked fire.

"Do sit down, charioteer," she murmured, her back straight, exquisitely poised. "One of my women will bring us wine."

With great confusion and very real relief, he sank into the indicated seat.

The problem was that he was an absurdly attractive man. Shedding his cloak, clad still in white from the wedding, Scortius appeared permanently young, immune to all the aches and doubts and infirmities of lesser mortals.

She'd been lying alone, by choice of course. Jad knew there were enough who would have offered their versions of solace in the dark had she asked or allowed. But Shirin had discovered that the greatest luxury of status, the real privilege it conveyed, was the power to not allow, and to ask only when and where she truly desired.

There would come a time when it would make sense to take a protector, perhaps even an important husband from the army or one of the wealthy merchants or even someone from the Imperial Precinct. There was a living Empress who was proof of such possibilities. But not now. She was young still, at the apex of her fame in the theatre, and had no need-yet-for a guardian.

She was guarded, by celebrity, and other things. Among those other things was the fact that she had someone here to warn her when there were those who sought her room after darkfall.

'I understand that he couldn't be killed, but why is the man sitting at his ease with wine to come? Enlighten me, please.

'Danis, Danis. Isn't he gorgeous?" she asked silently, knowing what the bird would say to that.

'Oh. Wonderful. Wait for him to smile once more, then take him to bed, is that the idea?

Scortius of Soriyya smiled, uneasily.

"Why, ah, would you think that, I, er…"

"Thenai's?" she finished for him. "Oh, women know these things, dear man. I saw you looking at her this afternoon. I must say she's exquisite."

"Urn, no! I mean, I'd, ah, say rather that… women may see strands of stories, where none are really to be found." His smile grew more assured. "Though I must say you are exquisite."

'You see? I knew it!" said Danis. 'You know what this man is like! Stay where you are. Don't smile back!

Shirin smiled. Lowered her eyes demurely, hands in her lap. "You are too kind, charioteer."

A scratching at the door again. To preserve her guest's identity-and avoid the windstorm of gossip this visit would cause-Shirin rose and took the tray herself from Pharisa, not letting her in. She set it down on the side table and poured for both of them, though Jad knew she didn't need more wine at this hour. There was a tingle of excitement in her that she couldn't deny. The whole of the City-from palace to chapel to wharfside caupona-would be stupefied were it to learn of this encounter between the First of the Blues and the Greens" Principal Dancer. And the man was-

'More water in yours!" Danis snapped.

'Quiet, you. There's plenty of water in it.

The bird sniffed. 'I don't know why I bothered to warn you of sounds on the roof. Might as well have let him find you naked in bed. Save him so much bother.

'We didn't know who it was,'she said reasonably.

"How did you, ah, realize I was there?" Scortius asked, as she handed him his cup. She watched him take a long drink.

"You sounded like four horses landing on the roof, Heladikos," she laughed. Untrue, but the truth was not for him, or anyone. The truth was a bird her father had sent her, with a soul, never sleeping, supernaturally alert, a gift of the half-world where spirits dwelled.

'Don't make jokes," Danis complained. 'You'll encourage him! You know what they say about this man!

'Of course I do," Shirin murmured inwardly. 'Shall we test it, my dear? He's famously discreet.

She wondered how and when he was going to make his overture of seduction. She took her seat again, across the room from him, and smiled, amused and at ease, but feeling an excitement within her, hidden like the soul of the bird. It didn't happen often, this feeling, it really didn't.

"You do know," said Scortius of the Blues, not moving from his seat, that this visit is entirely honourable, if… unusual. You are completely safe from my uncontrolled desires." His smile flashed, he set down his cup with an easy hand. "I'm only here to make you an offer, Shirin, an agent with a business proposal."

She swallowed hard, tilted her head thoughtfully. "You, ah, have control of the uncontrollable?" she murmured. Wit could be a screen.

He laughed, again easily. "Handle four horses from a bouncing chariot," he said. "You learn."

'Wliat is the man talking about?" Danis expostulated.

'Quiet. I may decide to be insulted.

"Yes," she said coolly, sitting up straight, holding her wine carefully "I'm sure you do. Go on." She lowered her voice, changed its timbre. Wondered if he'd notice.

The change in her tone was unmistakable. This was an actress: she could convey a great deal merely with a shift of voice and posture. And she just had. He wondered again why he'd assumed she'd be alone. What that said about her, or his sense of her. An awareness of the woman's pride, at the very least… self-contained, making her own choices.

Well, this would be her own choice, whatever she did. That was, after all, the point of what he'd come to say, and so he said it, speaking carefully: "Astorgus, our factionarius, has been wondering aloud and at some length what it would take to induce you to change factions."

What she did was change position again, rising swiftly, a taut uncoiling. She set down her cup, staring coldly at him.

"And for this, you enter my bedchamber in the middle of the night?"

It began, more and more, to seem a bad idea.

He said, defensively, "Well, this isn't really the sort of proposal one would want to make in a public-"