Thyatis flinched as the Princess collapsed into her arms, fighting tears. She gingerly put her arms around the crying woman. The Duchess had left this part out of her training.

“The… the King of Kings has heard that Khazars rode with the Roman army against Persia. I…” The princess stopped, unable to continue. Thyatis held her close, relaxing enough herself to allow Shirin to slump against her. The Princess was solid and warm. It felt odd, holding another woman this way. Thyatis wrapped her arms around Shirin, holding her close. “I have been placed under guard. I cannot leave the palace without my husband’s permission.”

Thyatis tipped Shirin’s head back with a finger under her chin. Tears had rained the artful makeup around her eyes. Thyatis smiled crookedly and wiped the worst smear away with her sleeve.

“Then, Princess, we will have to spirit you away.”

“How can he love me yet not trust me? My children and I are prisoners! We will be hostages against my father… why did he do this?”

Thyatis stared at the Princess, trying to decipher which he she was angry with.

“Shirin. Shirin!” Thyatis waited until the Princess had focused on her.

“My lady,” she said in a clear, even, voice, “abide by the wishes of your husband. When the time is right, my men and I will get you and your children out of the city, safe and sound. But for now, be at peace with your husband. If he suspects you, or suspects that we are here, it will be impossible.”

Shirin seemed at last to take notice of what Thyatis was saying and gave her head a little shake. Her eyes cleared and she stood away from Thyatis, wiping her eyes. Her hands lingered on Thyatis’ forearms. “Yes, you’re right.”

Shirin turned and looked into the garden. Nikos was rolling around on the ground with four small laughing figures swarming over him, tickling him. Laughter pealed to the heavens.

“My children will be safe. Thank you, Thyatis.”

The Roman woman leaned hack against the cool stone, biting her lip. That was clever. Now what? She wondered. Four noisy kids, all of us, plus the Princess and probably a gang of servants in tow as well… I should have kept the circus wagon.

“So,” Nikos said in a slow drawl, “our original mission was to whack or bag this boy Prince-Kavadh-but now, in midstream, you want to change horses.” He made a wry face and stared at Thyatis. She shrugged, sitting in the cool gloom under the trees in the back of the garden. Her back was to a mossy wall of old stones. Little yellow flowers grew out of the cracks.

“You can see what the Princess means to Jusuf. You heard the same news I did. The King of Kings made his big throw, and it failed. Now the two Emperors are moving south at all speed. Within a month they’ll be here and then things will get ugly.“

Nikos nodded, but he did not let go of his point either. “Centurion-I think the heat is getting to you. Our mission is to bag the kid. Jusuf has done us a hell of a favor, getting us in here on his niece’s word, but she is not the mission”

“Nikos.” Thyatis sat up a little straighter/her hands cupping her left knee. The other leg was out straight in front of her. “Jusuf is our friend. He has stood with us in dark places. We are Shirin’s guests here. We owe them assistance.”

Nikos was still frowning; he did not like changes like this. They just made more trouble later. Maybe a lot of trouble. Still, his commander seemed set, and there was something about the tightness of her lips that said she had already made up her mind.

“Centurion,” he said formally, “are you changing the mission?”

Thyatis sighed and scratched the side of her nose.

“Yes,” she said softly, “I am changing the mission. Now the mission is to spirit the Princess Shirin and her children and ourselves out of the palace at the soonest opportunity.”

“All right,” Nikos nodded, his sense of decorum satisfied. “Good by me.”

Thyatis shook her head. Some days the Illyrian gave her a headache.

“The first thing we have to do,” she said, “is get the other Khazars into the palace. We need more hands for this, particularly those snaggle-toothed ruffians.”

“I will go,” said Jusuf, his grim expression clamped back on his long face. He, Thyatis, and Nikos were sitting in the small room that Shirin had given the Roman woman for her own. By the standards of the palace, it was small and cramped, which meant that it was big enough for an entire lochaghai of legionnaires to camp in and only featured one window. The window, however, looked out over a rooftop with no view of any kind, which was why Thyatis had gladly accepted it. Too, it was tucked away at the end of the hallway.

The Khazar Prince refused to sit and was pacing restlessly on the tiled floor. Nikos was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, eating a pomegranate. Thyatis glared at him and the Illyrian stopped spitting the little pits behind the headboard. Thyatis looked up at the Khazar as he passed her again. She had taken the lone chair and was sharpening and oiling one of her daggers.

“And if you get caught?” she asked. “Everyone in the palace will know that you were plotting to get your niece out and she and the children will wind up in the pits under the palace.”

Nikos spit, the seed sailing through the open window.

“No pits,”, he said with a finger in his mouth to dig out another seed from between his teeth. “They put ‘em in a tower over by the river-they call it the Tower of Darkness-’cause once you go in, you never see the sun again. Grim-looking place, all dark stone and funny-looking stains.”

“Then who?” Jusuf snapped, turning back to face Thyatis. “You? Him? The same problem applies-if they question the servants, then they’ll know that we’re the guests of the Princess. We’re safe here only while no one knows we’re here!”

Thyatis smiled, her best shark-grin. “Silly boy. Of course not. We send an expert.”

Nikos looked up, his face pinched in surprise. He had expected to take care of it.

“I’ll send Anagathios. He came into the palace dressed as a woman, so no one will be able to match him up with •us, and they can’t really make him talk, can they?”

“An actor!” Jusuf fairly spit he was so angry. “You’ll send an actor to do a man’s job? This is ludicrous.”

Thyatis stood up, the long knife glittering naked in her hand. The look on her face brought Jusuf up short. “Listen, Prince, we do this kind of thing for a living, so why don’t you just let us carry on? And another thing, Anagathios is twice the man either of you are, and I should know. So until you can perform as well as he can, stay off the stage!”

Jusuf stepped back from the snap in her voice and the angry gleam in her eye. He raised his hands in surrender. “Pax! Enough, you want to send the pretty boy, send him. I’ll tell Shirin what we’re about.”

“No,” Thyatis said in a flat voice. “No one knows but the three of us.”

“Hey,” Nikos said, sitting up from the bed. “Anagathios is twice the man either of us is?”

“At least,” Thyatis said primly. There was a wicked gleam in her eye. Nikos held his thumbs up and looked at them, whistling. Jusuf stared from him to Thyatis and back again.

“What?” He sounded petulant.

Thyatis just laughed.

“You wanted to see me, Princess?”

Shirin looked up and smiled to see Thyatis at the door of her sewing room. The Princess put aside a piece of lace she had been working on and beckoned for the Roman woman to enter. Thyatis sat down on the end of the couch and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Yes. The Lord Zarmihr came to the city yesterday when I was summoned to the presence of the king of kings. I had never met this lord before; he is from the far eastern provinces of Tokharistan. He had been upon the field of Kerenos in the north, where the army gathered by Gundarnasp was broken by the Two Emperors.”