The guards promptly hobbled his ankles and bound his hands behind his back. As they dragged him to his feet, footsteps sounded on the stairs of the tower. The guards turned Blade around, to face Lord Desgo.

Seen close up, the warrior noble was almost a comic sight. Neena had worked him over very thoroughly. He sported two beautiful black eyes and spectacular blue and purple bruising on almost every visible inch of skin.

Desgo looked Blade up and down, apparently hoping for some signs of pain or weakness. An unmistakable look of disappointment crossed his battered face when he couldn't find anything. His puffed lips twisted in a grimace.

«Well, slave,» Desgo said. «Shall we have better behavior from you in the future, or shall you have more punishment from us?»

«It shall be as you wish,» said Blade, keeping his head bowed.

«Good. That is the answer of a slave with some common sense about his lot.» Desgo jerked a thumb over the railing toward the fire pit and its blazing logs. «You see that?»

«I do.»

«I do, Master,» said Desgo sharply. His hand dropped to a heavy club that he wore slung from his belt.

«I do, Master.»

«That is the Hearth of Tiga, the Earth Mistress. It is a service to Tiga to provide slaves to cleanse her hearth and return the ashes to her. Do you understand?»

«Not altogether, Master.»

«You are a stupid slave. But even stupid slaves can learn. I have suggested to King Furzun that you shall be among the slaves that tend the Hearth of Tiga. I promise you that you shall work the hardest among all of them.»

«I am grateful, Master.» Blade certainly was! Desgo was sending him to the very place he needed to explore, the place that might offer him and Neena an escape route. But would they leave him and Neena together?

«Perhaps you are,» said Desgo. «But I do not think your gratitude will last very long after you begin work.» He turned sharply and stamped away down the stairs.

Four more royal guards clattered up the stairs, seized Blade, and half led, half dragged him away. They went down the stairs so fast that Blade, his legs still shaky from his day's hanging, stumbled several times. Each time he went down with bruising crashes, each time he was dragged to his feet by the laughing guards.

He began to feel better when he saw that he was being led back toward the prison. They led him on briskly, past three massive brick buildings with barred windows. From those windows the acrid smells and high-pitched chitterings of stolofs drifted out into the evening air.

They left the stolof pens behind them, passed four torchlit buildings that seemed to be barracks, then turned into the street that led to the prison. The guards at the great door thrust it open as Blade approached. Then the same routine as before-two quick sword slashes to free Blade's hands and feet, and a quicker heave to send him flying forward into the darkness.

This time Blade was prepared for it. He landed rolling, stopped, and sat up. The door above slammed shut. He heard a faint stirring in the dimness.

«Neena?» Even if they'd thrown him back into the prison chamber, they might have already taken her out, to be prepared for King Furzun.

«Blade?» The voice, thank God, was unmistakable. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Blade saw Neena's slim form gracefully uncoil itself from a corner and come toward him.

She sat down beside him and ran her hands over his face and chest and arms, feeling him for wounds or perhaps just assuring herself that he was really back again. «Blade?» she said again.

«Yes.» Blade was still feeling groggy, but the pain and dizziness and disorientation were all gone now. He felt only a healthy exhaustion, and he knew that the wisest thing to do would be to give in to it. What he might have discovered could wait until tomorrow.

«Lord Desgo decided I ought to serve-in the Hearth of Tiga. That's their-earth goddess. The hearth is where the fire-the fire was.» His lips felt stiff and hard to move, as if they'd been bruised like Lord Desgo's.

Blade managed to lower himself backward onto the floor. He lay there, staring up at the slowly fading lights in the ceiling. As they faded out, he felt the warm, smooth firmness of Neena curling up against him, one arm across his chest and her hair flowing over his throat.

Chapter 10

When Blade awoke, he felt ready to tackle a day's work in the Hearth of Tiga or anywhere else Lord Desgo might decide to send him. He was no longer quite as immune to fatigue and strain as he had been when he left Oxford some years back. He was still in superb physical condition, though. There was practically nothing that a night's sleep couldn't remedy.

In her sleep Neena sensed that Blade was awake, opened her eyes, stretched like a cat, and reached up one hand to gently tug his bristling growth of beard. He gently took her hand in one of his and stroked her neck with the other. He felt refreshed and restored, but he also felt just as ready to lie here comfortably for the rest of the day, with Neena beside him.

«The fire showed in the tunnel again last night,» she said. «It was burning even before they brought you back.» Her voice was so low that Blade practically had to read her lips in order to understand what she was saying.

Blade only nodded, and drew one finger gently across her lips in a gesture he hoped she'd understand. That was absolutely final confirmation that the tunnel led under the Hearth of Tiga. It was also absolutely necessary for them to say nothing about the escape plans except when they were far down inside the tunnel, beyond anyone's hearing. By now the listeners above must suspect that the prisoners were entering the tunnel. But as long as those listeners continued to believe that the prisoners had no way of escaping through the tunnel, they wouldn't care greatly.

Before either Blade or Neena could say anything more, the door crashed open. Three guards heaved down a rope ladder and stood at its head with drawn swords.

«Tiga's waiting for your service,» snapped one of them.

Neena's face hardened. Blade sprang to his feet and bowed. «Yes, Masters, I come.» He scuttled across the floor to the ladder and scrambled up it.

All day long he did his best to keep up the same pose-a cringing, servile slave who had lost all of his courage and spirit through his punishment and his fear of more. It was not always easy. The work was exhausting, he was continuously being set to new tasks, he was given neither food nor water, and the guards were very free with the whip whenever they thought he was slowing down. There were times when it was hard not to pick up the nearest guard and throw him into the pit that yawned in the center of the Hearth of Tiga. Blade kept his mouth shut, his hands to himself, and his eyes continuously examining the hearth.

Just before sunset the guards gave Blade a bucket of water to drink. Then they threw two more buckets over him and led him back to prison.

Neena insisted on giving up her portion of dinner to Blade. It was not until well after the meal that they were able to slip away down the tunnel and speak openly.

«Neena, I thank you. But you must not do it again.»

«Blade, you are going to be working very hard. You must have whatever you need to keep your strength up.»

«Indeed, I must keep my strength up. So must you. Our hope of escaping depends on how far you can jump and how well you can hold a rope. You will not remain strong enough for that if you starve yourself.»

There was silence in the darkness of the tunnel, then faint, muffled sounds. Blade strained to make them out, then realized that Neena was fighting hard not to cry. He reached out and drew her against his chest. She lay warmly against it until she regained control of herself. Then she straightened up. Even in the darkness, Blade could sense that she was staring hard at him.