At any rate, he told her, "Go if you want to. I won't tell. But I won't go with you, either."

"Why not?"

"If I weren't so tired, maybe I could explain it to you. Or to myself. As it is, I just know after coming this far, I don't feel like turning my cloak at the end. Maybe I don't want to be like that whoreson Malark."

"I think you owe it to yourself to think more deeply than that. Even if we assume that the zulkirs can somehow hold this part of the coast, or that Szass Tam won't come after them if they flee into exile, we surely can live grander, richer lives in his new kingdom than in the council's shrunken dominions."

"I wouldn't be certain of that. You see what he's made of Thay already."

"As a tactic. He'll bring back sunshine and green grass after he wins the war."

"You're probably right. But, maybe because I'm so tired, I swear I can hear Malark asking the question he pondered over and over again-why did Szass Tam murder Druxus Rhym?"

Nymia shook her head, and the stud in her nostril caught a ray of light. "Now you're no longer making sense, or at least you're fretting over trivia. He killed Rhym before the war even started. Ten years later, what does it matter why?"

"I suppose it doesn't. Unless it points to the fact that there's still something about Szass Tam's schemes that we don't understand."

"We may not understand everything about his strategy, but you'd have to be an imbecile not to comprehend his objective. He means to be sole ruler of Thay, and once he is, he'll launch wars of conquest and try to make himself emperor of the East."

"Of course. You're right, and I'm blathering. But here's something that isn't blather: Szass Tam has plenty of lords and war leaders who have served him faithfully since the war began. Even if he welcomes you into his host, those others will all be standing in line ahead of you to claim their rewards when the conflict ends. Do you think there'll be a tharch left for you to govern? Or even a town in need of an autharch?"

She sighed. "Probably not. So I suppose I might as well stick where I am. But if only all these wretched zulkirs would destroy each other! Then I'd crown myself queen of Pyarados and appoint you marshal of my legions."

Aoth smiled. "It's a nice dream, High Lady."

As a boy, Bareris had loved the harbor. The sea breeze made a refreshing change from the stinks of the slum in which he lived, travelers sang new songs and told new stories, and the spectacle of the myriad ships with their towering masts, intricate rigging, and banks of oars fed his dreams of finding adventure and wealth in foreign lands. Tammith had liked it too, or perhaps she'd simply liked accompanying him wherever he chose to wander.

As in days past, they strolled beside the water, but everything seemed different than he remembered. The docks didn't bustle by night as they had by day, particularly with legionnaires standing watch to keep ordinary folk away from the piers. The waves were black, not blue and rippling with sunlight, and Tammith's fingers were cold in his.

Still, he was grateful to be here.

Tammith sniffed, her nostrils flaring. He did the same, but could smell only salt air and the leftover stink of the catch the fishermen had brought into port earlier that day. He supposed that she, with her inhumanly keen senses, perceived something more.

"It's a pity," she said.

"What is?"

"This part of the docks used to smell of spices. Now it doesn't."

"You have a good memory."

"When we were paupers' children, we used to imagine a day when we'd be able to afford foods prepared with expensive seasonings and all the other luxuries Bezantur provided for the wealthy. Now we're officers, lords of a sort, and we can have most anything we want. But the war has turned our home into a faded, tired place."

"Do you mind so very much?"

She sighed. "Perhaps I'm simply trying to mind. I don't have a problem with caring too much about things that don't really matter. My difficulty is trying to feel that anything does."

He forced a grin. "You were supposed to say, 'No, I don't mind at all, so long as we're together.' "

Her pale lips quirked into a smile. "That would have been better, wouldn't it? But you have to remember, you're the bard, gifted with a ready wit and golden tongue."

"Perhaps I can use them to coax you behind that pile of crates where you first permitted me to touch you under your shift."

"Bezantur would have to have some lazy dockhands if it's still there after all these years. Anyway, I can't believe you're feeling lickerish again so soon."

"We have sixteen years' worth of lost love to make up for. I assure you, I can couch my lance for another tilt. And you can nibble my neck if you want."

"No!"

Her vehemence surprised him. "You realize, I like it, too."

"That only makes it worse. If we're going to do this-be together-it has to be in the way of a natural man and woman. We need to put perversity behind us."

"All right. If you want it that way. Although you know, there are different sorts of perversity."

She cocked her head. "I suppose you learned of all manner of strange and disgusting practices during your time among the outlanders."

"Well, obviously, I kept myself pure for my beloved, but I could hardly help hearing the lewd stories told around the campfire. Storik once swore to me that dwarves like to-"

Tammith pivoted away from him to peer into the dark. "Something's happening," she said.

He looked where she was looking. At first he couldn't see anything. But he heard a muddled sound, and a moment later, the first ranks of what seemed to be a considerable number of folk tramped into the pool of amber glow cast by a hanging lantern. Most of the newcomers carried weapons, either proper ones or tools like axes and chisels that could serve the purpose. Many dangled sacks in their hands, or bore them slung across their shoulders. One fellow pushed a barrow full of bundles. The wheels squeaked and rumbled on the cobblestones.

There'd been a sentry posted at the far end of the street. He must have tried to turn these people back. Bareris wondered how badly the mob had hurt him.

He also wished he and Tammith were wearing armor. Although no one had specifically ordered them to quell unrest and protect the fleet, in an emergency, it was their duty even so.

"I'm going to try to turn them back without fighting," he said. "Don't hurt anyone unless you have to."

Tammith nodded. "My abilities aren't like yours. I can't tamper with so many minds at the same time. But I'll help as much as I'm able."

He crooned a charm that made him appear a shade handsomer and taller, more sympathetic and commanding, in the eyes of anyone who beheld him. Then he smiled and ambled toward the mob as if they were all staunch friends. Tammith kept pace beside him.

"Good evening, Goodmen," he said, infusing his voice with the magic of influence. "What's going on?"

A big man at the front of the pack, a trowel clutched in one fist and both arms banded with tattooed rings, glared at him. "We're taking a ship. Or ships, if we can't all fit on one."

"Why?" Bareris asked.

"Because the blue fire is coming."

"No, it isn't, and if someone told you otherwise, he was simply repeating a baseless rumor. I'm not wearing my insignia at present, but I'm an officer of the Griffon Legion. I hear what the scouts and soothsayers discover, and I give you my word, nobody has seen any blue flame moving toward Bezantur."

"What about Szass Tam?" shrilled a voice rising from farther back in the throng. "Are you going to tell us he isn't coming?"

"No," Bareris said, "he probably is, but even he won't be able to get inside the city walls. No enemy could. You'll be far safer here than trying to sail to some foreign land. The same upheavals that shake the land are raising huge waves at sea. The depths are giving birth to strange new creatures."