«That could be,» said Blade. «It could also be that this sense of doubt about what has to be done has been in him all along, and you just didn't see it. He loves you, Jollya, even if he can't figure out a way to convince you.» Blade badly wanted to do something to reconcile Jollya and her father.

There was a long silence. Then Jollya said slowly, «You could be right. At least I won't say you're wrong. Not until I've talked with my father again.» She smiled faintly. «This time I won't start by calling him a liar.»

«Good. Has he spoken at all about what he thinks to the other Keepers?»

«I don't know. Even if he wanted to, he may not have had the time.»

This might be true; it had been only a few days since Sikkurad learned of Tressana's plans at all. Blade desperately hoped it was true. «If your father hasn't spoken to the other Keepers, try to persuade him not to. If the other Keepers are planning to go along with Tressana's war plans, they may be willing to denounce him to her. She might have no mercy. At the very least you could wind up being held hostage for your father's good behavior.»

Jollya hugged her breasts as if she were suffering from a chill. «I know. But after the gods have made him brave, how can I ask him to be a coward again?»

«There's courage. There's also jumping naked into the creepers of a killer plant. Right now your father will do more for everybody by keeping his mouth shut and waiting for a better time.» He hoped she'd believe him, because he could hardly tell her the real reason why he expected that better time.

She sighed. «I wish I had always believed in the gods. I might feel easier about their working now, or leaving things in their hands. Will you be able to help us in this? I believe you, Blade, gods or no gods!»

«I'll have to lead my men to Binaark first. If I refuse now, I'll make Tressana suspicious at the very least. Maybe she'd even think I was an enemy. Even if there's no war, the work in the forest ought to be done. Now that we have the scent amulets, the killer plants won't be a barrier between Jaghd and Elstan any more. We'll be able to cut a road through the forest and trade with Elstan all the year around. Everybody will be much better off.»

«I understand. But, Blade-come back, whatever else you have to do.» She stood up and practically threw herself into his arms. He held her for a moment, then said, «Wait until I'm out of sight before you leave,» and turned away into the darkness.

He wanted to make sure that anyone who might have been watching would follow him rather than her. He also didn't want to have to tell Jollya any more lies about his plans. He knew he was good at making up plausible stories; he wasn't entirely sure he was good enough to fool Jollya much longer.

If things worked out as he hoped, he would not be returning to Jollya or even to Jaghd after he'd done his work in the forest of Binaark. He'd be on his way to Elstan, with a scent amulet around his neck and all of Jaghd's war plans in his head.

Blade knew that going to Elstan was a desperate solution, but then he faced a desperate situation. If the Keepers didn't act, nothing could stop Tressana's war. Even if the Jaghdi didn't sweep everything before them as they hoped, many people would die and much knowledge would be lost. Also, Jollya and her father would sooner or later do something to make Tressana turn against them, and that would be the end. The only thing that still could be done against Tressana was to warn the Elstani and hope that this warning would help them to defeat the Jaghdi. After that, wiser heads might prevail in Jaghd. True, the Elstani rulers might not be any better than the Jaghdi, but chances were they wouldn't be worse. And at least Elstan would not be a ravaged wasteland fighting a desperate guerrilla warfare against the Jaghdi cavalry.

As desperate as the situation was, Blade wouldn't have chosen this solution if Tressana hadn't helped him. Blade was really very grateful to her for that help, although he doubted that she would appreciate his gratitude. She'd given him all the details of Jaghd's war plans, so that he could even tell the Elstani where the main Jaghdi camp would be. Then she'd let him go out to the borders of Jaghd, commander of his own band of men. That would make escaping merely dangerous, instead of suicidal. He'd have to ride or walk only a few miles to be so deep into the forest of Binaark that nobody could track him.

A hot night followed a day when it seemed that the ground and the forest were going to be baked like a loaf of bread. Blade shifted uncomfortably in his sweat-soaked hammock, hoping that some miracle would bring even a small breeze into the hut.

Nothing happened. The air remained as still and heavy with jungle smells as ever. A night bird called in the distance, and from underneath the hammock came a whimper and a faint series of thumps. Lorma was stirring restlessly in sleep, probably from a dream of hunting.

Blade's hut stood a little apart from the others in the camp on the edge of the forest of Binaark, but it was built to the same pattern. It was ten feet on a side, with log walls, a thatched roof, a narrow door, and a single small window. The door and the shutter were made of roughly dressed planks hung on leather hinges. The whole thing was a good deal more elaborate than Blade would have asked for under the circumstances, but this was the Jaghdi way of doing things. When they had to build, they built as solidly and as elaborately as the tools, materials, and time available would let them.

There were eight huts in the camp, plus an open-sided cook-shed over the fire pit and a log corral for the rolghas. Blade's scouting party had been in the camp for a week now. In two more days they'd be on their way deep into the forest, the first men ever to walk there without fear of the killer plants.

Blade planned to keep right on going until he came out the other side into Elstan. The couriers who'd come into camp every day had brought no news to make him change his mind about that. The army was still gathering, and the Keepers were hard at work giving it the best weapons possible. Fortunately they didn't seem to be coming up with anything new other than the scent amulets.

Blade stretched his arms as far as they would go, then let them droop over the sides of the hammock. He didn't feel any cooler or more comfortable, but the fatigue of a long day was finally catching up with him.

He was beginning to doze when he heard Lorma whimper again, then suddenly fall silent. A moment later she made a low rumbling sound in her throat, not quite a snarl but definitely not a friendly purr. He heard a rustle of dried ferns as she shifted position. Then suddenly there was the unmistakable pad-pad-pad of Lorma's feet as she crossed to the door.

By the time she'd taken three steps, Blade was fully awake. By the time he heard her low growl from by the door, he was sliding out of the hammock. He'd stripped naked and didn't bother dressing. If whatever Lorma was sensing outside was dangerous, speed, silence, and weapons ready to hand were more important than clothes.

He'd pulled the garrote out from under his pillow as he slipped out of the hammock. Next he belted on his sword. By the time he'd finished he could hear what Lorma must have heard first: footsteps approaching the door of the hut.

The door faced the jungle, clear of any of the sentries' paths. That in itself would have told Blade the approaching footsteps might be enemies. Making this nearly certain was the slow, cautious way the footsteps were coming on, as if the men didn't know their way or were afraid of being heard.

The footsteps stopped, and Blade heard whispers. He didn't recognize any words, let alone voices, but he was able to use the time. He pointed at the hammock. «Lorma, go!» The cat padded across the hut and leaped into the hammock. From outside no one could have seen her moving. Her gray coat blended too well with the darkness. Now in the darkness of the hut she gave the hammock the appearance of having someone in it.