Swiftly Taita searched the boudoir for a weapon or some form of disguise, but found neither. He was still bare-footed and dressed in the simple tunic, which was filthy with dust and soot and scorched by drops of burning magma. He went quickly to the outer door and let himself through into the empty audience hall. He had a clear memory of the route he must follow to reach the entrance through which That had brought him on his first visit to the citadel. He stepped out into the corridor to find it deserted. When the oligarchs had left, they must have dismissed the guards. He made for the rear of the building and had almost reached the tall double doors to the rear courtyard when a loud voice halted him.

'You there! Stand and give account of yourself.'

In his haste Taita had neglected to spin about himself a spell of concealment. He turned back with a friendly smile. 'I am confused by the size of this place, and I would be glad of your assistance in finding my way out.'

The man who had accosted him was of one of the citadel guards, a burly middle-aged sergeant in full uniform. He had drawn his sword and was striding towards Taita with a belligerent scowl.

'Who are you?' he shouted again. 'You have the look of a dirty, thieving rascal to me.'

'Peace, friend.' Still smiling, Taita held up both hands in a placatory gesture. 'I carry an urgent message for Colonel Onka.'

'The Colonel has left already.' The sergeant held out his left hand.

'Give the message to me, if you are not lying and you truly have one. I will see it gets to him.'

Taita pretended to grope in his pouch, but as the man came closer, he seized his wrist and pulled him off balance. Instinctively the sergeant pulled back with all his weight. Instead of resisting Taita went with him and used the impetus to crash with both elbows into his chest. With a shout of surprise the man lost his balance and went over backwards.

Quick as a leopard, Taita landed on top of him and drove the ball of his right hand up under his chin. The vertebrae of the sergeant's neck parted with a loud crack, killing him instantly.

Taita knelt beside him and began to untie his helmet, intending to use his uniform as a disguise, but before he could get the helmet off his head there was another shout and two more guards rushed down the corridor towards him with drawn swords. Taita prised the blade out of the dead man's hand, and sprang to his feet to face his attackers.

He hefted the sword in his right hand. It was a heavy infantry model but it felt familiar and comfortable in his grip. Many years ago he had written the manual of arms for Pharaoh's regiments, and swordsmanship was one of his passionate interests. Since then age had taken from him the force of his right arm, but now it was restored to him, as was his agility and fleetness of foot. He parried the thrust of the first assailant and ducked under the cut of the second. Keeping low, he slashed at the back of the man's ankle, neatly severing his Achilles tendon. Then he jumped up and pirouetted unexpectedly between the two before either could recover. The unwounded man turned to follow him, but as he did so he opened his flank and Taita stabbed deep in his armpit, sliding the point of his blade between the ribs. With a twist of his wrist, he turned it in the wound, opening it wide and freeing it from the suction of wet flesh. His victim dropped to his knees coughing up gouts of blood from pierced lungs. Taita spun away to face the trooper he had crippled.

The man's eyes filled with terror and he tried to back away but his maimed foot flopped nervelessly, and he almost fell. Taita feinted for his face and, when he raised his guard to protect his eyes, sent a thrust into his belly, cleared his blade and jumped back. The man dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. Taita stepped forward again and stabbed down into the back of his neck, under the rim of his helmet. The trooper dropped face down and lay still.

Taita jumped over the two corpses and went to the first man he had killed. Unlike the others, his uniform was not bloodstained. Swiftly he stripped off the man's sandals and laced them on to his own bare feet.

They were a tolerable fit. He strapped the sword belt and scabbard round his waist, then took the helmet and cloak and pulled them on as he ran for the rear doors of the citadel. He slowed to a walk as he reached them and spread the scarlet cloak to cover his torn, soiled tunic. As he marched towards the doors he sent out an impulse to lull the minds of the sentries who guarded them. They glanced at him with little interest as he passed between them and went down the marble steps into the courtyard.

The parade-ground was bustling with the men and horses of Onka's regiment preparing for campaign. Taita saw Onka himself strutting about and shouting orders to his captains. He mingled with the throng and passed close to Onka as he made his way towards the stables. Although Onka glanced in his direction he showed no sign of recognition.

Taita reached the stableyard without being accosted. Here, there was the same furious activity. The farriers were reshoeing the horses, the armourers were busy at the grindstones sharpening arrowheads and blades, and the grooms were saddling the officers' mounts. Taita thought of attempting to steal a horse from the lines, but he realized there was almost no hope of that plan succeeding. Instead he made his way towards the back wall of the palace compound.

The stench guided him to the latrines tucked behind the buildings.

When he found them he looked around carefully to make sure he was unobserved. A sentry was patrolling the top of the walls above him, so he waited for the diversion he knew must come. It was not long before he heard angry shouts from the direction of the citadel. Whistles bleated and a dnimbeat signalled the call to arms. The three bodies he had left in the passage had been discovered, and the attention of the garrison was focused on the citadel. The sentry rushed to the far end of the parapet from where he stared out over the parade-ground to find the reason for the alarm. His back was turned.

Taita swung himself up on to the flat roof of the latrines. From there the top of the wall was within reach. He took a run and leapt for the lip of the parapet, then he pulled himself up with both arms until he could throw a leg over. He rolled across the top of the wall and dropped over the far side. It was a long fall, but he rode the shock of landing with braced legs and glanced round swiftly. The sentry was still gazing away from him. The edge of the forest was close by and he darted across the

open ground into the trees. Here he took a minute to orient himself, then began the steep climb into the foothills, using the cover of gullies, long grass and shrubs to hide himself from a chance watcher belbw.

When he reached the crest of the hill he peered over it cautiously. The road that led up to the Cloud Gardens was just beneath him. It was deserted. He ran down, crossed it quickly and took cover in a patch of scrub. From there he could see across to the horse's head grove of trees on the next promontory. He bounded down the scree slope into the valley, the loose stones rolling under his feet, and reached the bottom without losing his balance. He trotted along the base of the hill and came to an opening. The valley sides were steep and he went a short distance into it, then turned and climbed to a vantage-point from where he could watch the entrance and settled down to wait.

The sun reached its zenith, then began to drop towards the horizon.

He saw dust on the road across the valley. It looked as though a large troop of cavalry was riding hard towards the east. An hour or so passed, and then he heard the faint sound of hoofs coming closer. He sat up, alert. A small band of riders appeared below him and stopped.