“Where did it happen?” asked Kta.

“At Imas,” said Ian. It was the house that faced the Sufaki district. “But the assassin ran and we could not follow him into the—”

He stopped cold as he saw Bel standing in the triangular arch of the rhmei.

Bel walked forward. “Do you think me the enemy, Ian t’IIev?”

“T’Osanef.” Ian covered his confusion with a courteous bow. “No, I was only surprised to find you here.”

“That is strange. Most of my people would not be.”

“Bel,” Kta reproved him.

“You and I know how things stand,” said Bel. “If you will pardon me, I see things are getting down to business and the sun is sinking. I think it is time for me to leave.”

“Bel, be careful. Wait until it is securely dark.”

“I will be careful,” he said, a little warmth returning to his voice. “Kta, take care for Aimu.”

“Gods, are you leaving this moment? What am I to tell her?”

“I have said to her what I need to say.” Bel delayed a moment more, his hand upon the door, and looked back. “She was your best argument; I remain grateful you did not stoop to that. I will omit to wish you success, Kta. Do not be surprised if some of my people choose to die rather than agree with you. I will not even pray for t’Tefur’s death, when it may be the last the world will see of the nation we were. The name, my Indras friends, was Chtelek, not Sufak. But that probably will not matter hereafter.”

“Bel,” said Kta, “at least arm yourself.”

“Against whom? Yours—or mine? Thank you, no, Kta. I will see you at the harbor—or be in it tomorrow morning, whichever fortune brings me.”

The heavy door closed behind him, echoing through the empty halls, and Kta looked at Ian with a troubled expression.

“Do you trust him that far?” Ian t’Ilev asked.

“Begin no action against the Sufaki beyond Imas. I insist on that, Ian.”

“Is everything still according to original plan?”

“I will be there at nightfall. But one thing you can do: take Aimu with you and put her safely in a defended house. Elas will be no protection to her tonight.”

“She will be safe in Ilev. There will be men left to guard it, as many as we can spare: Uset’s women will be there too.”

“That will ease my mind greatly,” said Kta.

Aimu wept at the parting, as she had already been crying and trying not to. Before she did leave the house, she went to the phusmehaand cast into the holy fire her silken scarf. It exploded into brief flame, and she held out her hands in prayer. Then she came and put herself in the charge of Ian t’Ilev.

Kurt felt deeply sorry for her and found it hard to think Kta would not make some special farewell, but he bowed to her and she to him with the same formality that had always been between them.

“Heaven guard you, my brother,” she said softly.

“The Guardians of Elas watch over thee, my little sister, once of this house.”

It was all. Ian opened the door for her and shepherded her out into the street, casting an anxious eye across and up where the guards still stood on the rooftops, a reassuring presence. Kta closed the door again.

“How much longer?” Kurt asked. “It’s near dark. Shan t’Tefur undoubtedly has ideas of his own.”

“We are about to leave.”—T’Nethim appeared silently among the shadows of the further hall. Kta gave a jerk of his head and t’Nethim came forward to join them. “Stay by the threshold,” he ordered t’Nethim. “And be still. What I have yet to do does not involve you. I forbid you to invoke your Guardians in this house.”

T’Nethim looked uneasy, but bowed and assumed his accustomed place by the door, laying his sword on the floor before him.

Kta with Kurt walked into the firelit rhmei,and Kurt realized then the nature of Kta’s warning to t’Nethim, for he walked to the left wall of the rhmei,where hung the Sword of Elas, Isthain. The ypan-sulhad hung undisturbed for nine generations, untouched since the expulsion of the humans from Nephane, but for the sometime attention that kept its metal bright and its leather-wrapped hilt in good repair. The ypai-sulim,the Great Weapons, were unique to their houses and full of the history of them. Isthain, forged in Indresul when Nephane was still a colony, nearly a thousand years before, had been dedicated in the blood of a Sufaki captive in the barbaric past, carved into battle by eleven men before.

Kta’s hand hesitated at taking the age-dark hilt of it, but then he lifted it down, sheath and all, and went to the hearthfire. There he knelt and laid the great Sword on the floor, hands outstretched over it.

“Guardians of Elas,” he said, “waken, waken and hear me, all ye spirits who have ever known me or wielded this blade. I, Kta t’Elas u Nym, last of this house, invoke ye; know my presence and that of Kurt Liam t’Morgan u Patrick Edward, friend to this house. Know that at our threshold sits Lhe t’Nethim u Kma. Let your powers shield my friend and myself, and do no harm to him at our door. We take Isthain against Shan t’Tefur u Tlekef, and the cause of it you well know.—And you, Isthain, you shall have t’Tefur’s blood or mine. Against t’Tefur direct your anger and against no others. Long have you slept undisturbed, my dread sister, and I know the tribute due you when you are wakened. It will be paid by morning’s light, and after that time you will sleep again. Judge me, ye Guardians, and if my cause is just, give me strength. Bring peace again to Elas, by t’Tefur’s death or mine.”

So saying he took up the sheathed blade and drew it, the holy light running up and down the length of it as it came forth in his hand. Etched in its shining surface was the lightning emblem of the house, seeming to flash to life in the darkness of the rhmei.In both hands he lifted the blade to the light and rose, lifted it heavenward and brought it down again, then recovered the sheath and made it fast in his belt.

“It is done,” he said to Kurt. “Have a care of me now, though your human soul has its doubts of such powers. Isthain last drank of human life, and she is an evil creature, hard to put to sleep once wakened. She is eldest of the Sulimin Nephane, and self-willed.”

Kurt nodded and answered nothing. Whatever the temper of the spirit that lived in the metal, he knew the one which lived in Kta t’Elas. Gentle Kta had prepared himself to kill and, in truth, he did not want to stand too near, or to find any friend in Kta’s path.

And when they came to the threshold where t’Nethim waited, Lhe t’Nethim bowed his face to the stone floor and let Kta pass the door before he would rise; but when Kurt delayed to close the door of Elas and secure it, t’Nethim gathered himself up and crept out into the gathering dark, the look on his perspiring face that of a man who had indeed been brushed by something that sought his life.

“He has prayed your safety,” Kurt ventured to tell him.

“Sometimes,” said Lhe t’Nethim, “that is not enough. Go ahead, t’Morgan, but be careful of him. It is the dead of Elas who live in that thing. Mim my cousin—”

He ceased with a shiver, and Kurt put the nemet superstition out of mind with a horror that Mim’s name could be entangled in the bloody history of Isthain.

He ran to overtake Kta, and knew that Lhe t’Nethim, at a safe distance, was still behind them.

23

“There” said Ian t’Ilev,nodding at the iron gate of the Afen. “They have several archers stationed inside. We are bound to take a few arrows. You and Kurt must have most care: they will be directly facing you for a few moments.”

Kta studied the situation from the vantage point in the door of Irain. It was dark, and there were only ill-defined shapes to be seen, the wall and the Afen a hulking mass. “We cannot help that. Let us go. Now.”

Ian t’Ilev bowed shortly, then broke from cover, darting across the street.