Two minutes later they rounded the corner of the last warehouse onto the dock and slipped into the shadow of the merchant ship. All except Blade. He stepped close to the edge of the dock, turned his back on the dark waters of the harbor, and raised his left hand to his right temple.

He held it there until Fturn stepped toward him, a worried look on his face.

«Blade, is-are you ill?»

Blade shook his head, without lowering his hand. «No, I-«Behind him he heard a faint but unmistakable splash.

Blade stiffened slightly but did not move. Fturn was still out of easy striking range. And a single, splash did not have to mean anything. A single splash could be accident or coincidence.

Then Blade heard two more splashes, and Fturn took the step that brought him within range. Together, that meant something-that the moment for action was at hand.

Blade took a single step forward, his right arm rising in a deceptively slow, flowing motion. The heel of his hand slammed up under Fturn's jaw, snapping the man's head back. Blade could kill with that blow, or compress a man's spine just enough to drop him in his tracks.

Fturn shot back, then dropped. As he hit the stones, a whole chorus of splashes sounded behind Blade. Then slim, fast-moving shapes were darting past on either side of him and hurling themselves on the Sisterhood's guards.

There were five of them-Sea Masters armed with strangling cords and knives, their pale skins darkened with grease. But their golden eyes flashed as they struck like hunting cats, as fast, as silent, and as deadly. Behind them charged Blade's three sailors and Blade himself, swords drawn to deal with any guard who panicked and drew steel.

None of Fturn's six had time to do that, even if they had the will. The five Sea Masters swirled around the two not holding the netted Durkas. There was a flurry of fast-moving bodies, a thud, two groans, and then two more thuds as the two guards collapsed.

The other four dropped Durkas onto the dock with a crash and stood openmouthed. They stood staring, unable to decide whether to fight or run. They kept standing until the matter was decided for them. Five Sea Masters, three sailors, and Blade swarmed over them, clubbing, punching, and kicking.

Blade drove his fist hard into one guard's jaw, saw the man crumple, ducked a sword stroke from a second, then stumbled over an outstretched arm. He went over backward, but converted his tumble into a backflip and came up with a knife in his hand. The guard cut at him with a clumsy sword-stroke. Blade's knife rose to block it with a clang and a shower of sparks. The guard raised the sword to strike again. Then a golden-eyed figure sprang up behind him and wrapped a padded leather thong around his thick neck. The guard's eyes bulged, his tongue thrust out between his teeth, and his face turned purple. The Sea Master whipped the cord away, and the man crumpled as limply as a jellyfish onto the dock.

Blade stepped back from the fallen man and looked around him. Fturn and his men were all down, but a quick check showed they were all more or less alive and breathing. With luck, they would stay that way.

The slimmest of the five Sea Masters stepped forward, golden eyes wide. Blade reached out and stroked Alanyra's cheek and shoulder. But his voice was crisp.

«You have the masks?»

«We do.»

«Give them out and let's be off.»

She nodded and darted off to snap orders to her fighters. Swiftly they bound Durkas's hands and feet and tied an air mask over his face, then gave masks to Blade and the sailors. Netted, bound, masked, and unconscious, the steward of mighty Duke Tymgur was lowered over the edge of the dock like a dead fish. A faint splash from below told of his hitting the water. Louder splashes in rapid succession told of the Sea Masters and the sailors following Durkas into the water. When Blade had finished adjusting his mask and looked up, only Alanyra stood gracefully on the edge of the dock.

«Coming, Blade?»

«A moment.»

He unbuckled his sagging pouch from his belt and opened it. He took out a leather bag bulging with silver and gold coins and a letter. He read the letter over one final time:

Sister Brigeda

We mean the Sisterhood no harm. But what is best for the Sea Cities will also be the best for the Sisterhood and in time for Nurn. Fear not. Durkas will not live long or die easily, though he escapes your hands. This money I leave for Sister Clarda, a gift from the Sea Cities.

— Blade

There was much else he could have added, but someone might come along and read the letter before Fturn or any of his men awoke. Blade shoved both letter and purse inside Fturn's tunic, then turned toward the water. Alanyra was gone, and it was high time he joined her and the others.

He ran lightly to the edge of the dock, took one swift look, then plunged into the harbor.

Chapter EIGHTEEN

A war-trained yulon in good condition could easily tow twenty men at a good clip all night. The one waiting in the depths of the harbor had been hard worked, but it could easily tow a dozen men and women and one inert body twenty miles offshore by dawn.

An hour after dawn Blade stuck his head up through the crest of a swell and saw Sea Fox's white-painted mast on the horizon. An hour after that, they were aboard her and pumping stimulants into the unconscious but still-living Durkas. And before nightfall, Durkas was conscious, full of Truth-Finder, and pouring out all he knew of Duke Tymgur's plans.

That was quite a lot. Blade suspected that Krodrus would find his report most interesting.

Krodrus did.

The Autocrat for Finance would have found it even more interesting if he had been able to confront Stipors with the full tale in open council. However, word had apparently reached Stipors that his dealings with Duke Tymgur were about to see the light of day. His choices had then become very simple-try to kill Blade or flee at once. He had chosen to flee. In fact he had fled two days before Sea Fox picked up Blade and his prisoner off the coast of Nurn.

This balked Krodrus of having his colleague tried and executed for treason. But it did solve one problem literally overnight. With Stipors no longer concerned in the matter, the execution of the Conciliators was quietly dropped. In fact, they were all pardoned and released the day after Blade's return. The proclamation of pardon had to be rather weasel-worded, of course. Blade's mission was still a closely guarded secret. But at least there was no more danger of Svera's losing her head.

There was some danger of Captain Foyn's deciding that Blade would make a perfect son-in-law and heir. The fact that Blade was obviously a man who would rise high in the Sea Cities, whatever his origins, didn't help matters. Blade had to find a way to avoid saying yes, no, or maybe without giving any hint of why. He knew that his time in this dimension must be drawing to a close. But there was still one large item of unfinished business before he could go home with a clear mind-Duke Tymgur. So he was as eager to speak to Krodrus as he had been after his return from the Reefs of Clan Gnyr.

This time he didn't have to wait.

Neither Krodrus's officer nor the man himself had changed much. But the little Autocrat's expression was harried. It was obvious that Blade's discovery had brought him no real peace of mind.

«You have done marvels,» he said to Blade. «You and all those who helped you. But I cannot see that you have solved our problem. Duke Tymgur still lives. We have weakened him both here and in Nurn, but a man such as he can always find other trusted stewards, other traitors in the Sea Cities and elsewhere.»

«Not if what we have learned is revealed to-all concerned,» said Blade.