“Calde Silk!” The harsh voice belonged to a gaunt, hard-faced Trivigaunti officer of forty or more; he blinked, certain that he should recognize her.

“You’re Calde Silk. Let’s not waste time in evasions.”

“Yes, I am.” She had clicked into place in his memory, her hand around a wineglass, her back straight as a slug-gun barrel. “Major Hadale, this is my wife, Hyacinth. Hyacinth, my darling, may I present Major Hadale? She’s one of General Saba’s most trusted officers. Major Hadale consented to join me for dinner Thelxday, before we were reunited.”

Oreb eyed Hadale apprehensively. “Good girl?”

The major herself addressed the lieutenant on her right. “You were in here an hour ago looking for him. Are you saying he wasn’t here then?”

“No, sir.” The lieutenant’s face was set like stone. “He was not. I’m familiar with his appearance, and I examined every prisoner in this gondola. He was not present.”

Hadad turned to a trooper with a slug gun. “How long have you been on post?”

Silk began, “If I may—”

“In a moment. How long, Matar?”

The trooper had stiffened to attention. “Almost my whole watch, sir.”

Auk spoke into Silk’s ear; but if Silk heard him — or anything — he gave no indication of it. “You’re going to ask her if anyone left this gondola,” he told Hadale. “She’ll say no, and then I suppose you’ll call her a liar, or the lieutenant will. Can’t we—”

“Before we came down here I asked if she’d seen anybody,” Hadale interrupted. “She said she did. She saw a Vironese holy man. He went down into this gondola, and he had an order from General Saba that let him. Is that right, Matar?”

“Yes, sir.”

Silk fished a folded paper from his pocket. “Here it is. Do you want to see it?”

“No!” Angrily, Hadale took it from him. “I want to keep it. I intend to. Calde, you were careful to remind me that I’ve been your guest. You welcomed me and fed me well. That puts me in an uncomfortable position.” She glanced at the crowd that had formed around them. “Get out of here! Go to the other end of the gondola, all of you.”

Auk smiled and shook his head. Sciathan tugged the sleeve of Silk’s robe. “Now you wish it? If not, you must stop it.”

“You’re right, of course.” Silk raised both hands. “Auk! All of you! Go to the other end. You’re very brave, and there are only three of them; but there are at least a hundred others on this airship.” He took Hyacinth’s hand.

“Go ’way!” Oreb seconded him.

Maytera Marble added her voice to theirs, the crisp tones of a teacher bringing her classroom to order. “Hear that bird? He’s a night chough, sacred to Tartaros. Trust Tartaros!”

“I speak for the gods.” Incus stood on tiptoe, making wide gestures. “We must obey the calde, whom the immortal gods have chosen for all of us.”

“Thank you,” Silk told the little Flier. “Thank you very much. Moly — thank you. Thank you, Your Eminence.”

Hadale exhaled, a weary sigh that recalled Maytera Marble. “And I thank you, Calde. They wouldn’t have succeeded, but there would’ve been a lot of killing. By Scarring Sphigx, I don’t like this! A few days ago, we were drinking toasts.”

“I like it less,” Silk told her. “I propose that we put an end to it. May I speak with General Saba?”

Hadad shook her head. “Lieutenant, you and Matar go over there and keep an eye on those people. They may try to jump you. Shoot if they do.”

Silk watched them go. “I’d imagine you’ve got a glass on this airship. If you won’t let me speak with General Saba, may I use it to speak to your generalissimo?”

“No.” Hadad paused to listen. “We just lost an engine.”

“The second one,” Hyacinth told her. “That was what Auk whispered to my husband, that the first one had stopped. I’ve been paying attention to them ever since.”

“Auk’s the man who was talking to my wife and me when you came,” Silk explained. “I apologize for not introducing you.”

“I should be in the cockpit, they’ll be going crazy up there. Calde, are you doing this?”

“Good man!” Oreb assured Hadale. “Good Silk!”

She gave him a look intended to fry him. “Your bird’s an oracle of Tartaros, so if he says you’re good that settles it. Don’t you know that many of us don’t believe in Tartaros, Calde? We have a faction that teaches that Sphigx is the only true god, and Pas and the rest are just legends. A lot of us believe it.”

Silk nodded, looking at the dangling ladder behind her. “I can sympathize with that — no doubt it’s nearer the truth than many of our beliefs. May I offer a suggestion, Major?”

“I’ve got one, too, but let’s hear yours. What is it?”

He showed her his hands. “We’re unarmed. You may search us if you wish; and we won’t attack you — we’ll swear to that by Sphigx or any other god you choose. If you were to hand your needler to Hyacinth or me, we wouldn’t employ it against you — though of course I’m not asking you to do anything of the kind. That said, I suggest we go to the place from which this airship is commanded. Where the tiller is, or whatever you call it. Is that the cockpit?”

Hadale nodded, her eyes suspicious.

“First, because we’d like to see it — that’s a selfish reason, I admit, but we would. Second, because they may need you there, you’re clearly anxious to go, and we can talk there as well as anywhere. Third—”

Hadale pointed to the dangling ladder. “That’s enough. All right. You two first, and stay in front.”

“So,” Siyuf began as she sat down in the wooden chair the round-faced stranger pulled out for her, “are we today at war? I hope you are lose, General Mint.” Without evident curiosity, her quick, dark eyes surveyed the spartan room, and the snow-splotched drill field and leaden sky beyond its windows.

Oosik nodded as he took his seat. “That was a point we planned to discuss, Generalissimo. Events have overtaken us.”

“Trivigaunte declared war on Viron an hour ago,” Maytera Mint said briskly. “We feel we owe it to you to explain the situation. Our calde thinks you care nothing for the lives of your troops. He’s told me so. I’m doing something here that’s quite foreign to me, I’m assuming he’s wrong. If he isn’t, no harm will be done by this meeting. If he is,” she smiled, “some good may come of it. Are your troopers’ lives precious to you?”

The elevation and decline of Siyuf’s epaulets was scarcely visible. “Valuable is certain. Precious we must speak about, I think. Do you know how greatly I have desire to meet you, Mint? Do they tell this? Is Bison to sit in one of these empty chairs? He know of this.”

A new voice exclaimed, “So do I! I vouch for her, my dear young general. She’s expressed the wish many times.

Siyuf turned to the fat man who had come in. “You I know from a picture. You are Potto of the Ayuntamiento, that would make war on my city. You have win, I think, if we are at war.”

Potto sat gingerly, unsure of the strength of his chair. “If only a declaration were all it took!”

“I’m Councillor Newt,” the round-faced stranger explained, “the newest member of the Ayuntamiento.” He offered his hand.

She accepted it. “I am your prisoner Siyuf.”

“Not a badly treated one, I hope.”

Potto giggled. “A very well treated one, so far, Cousin. Since you’re a councillor now, I’ve appointed you an honorary cousin. Do you mind?”

Oosik cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should outline the entire situation, Generalissimo.”

“We are at war, you say. I believe this. I therefore give my name and rank. These alone, no other fact. Do you desire to exchange me? I will go.”

Maytera Mint said, “We do, very much.”

“Then I will fight you, after. It is to be regretted, but it is so, You cannot make me answer your questions—”

Potto giggled again.

“No more can I make you to answer mine. I ask anyway. Do you fight me together, Mint? Or do you fight each other also? When I return to my horde, it would be good that I know this.”