he explained.

He suggested they fall into pairs: the girls together, posing as two servants off to find work;

Ramil and the professor on their errand to the south; he and Gordoc as slave overseers, heading

to the plantations around the shores of the Inland Sea.

"We'll stick close together, but make no sign we are acquainted. The girls should go ahead so

that they get through first. We'll follow close behind to be there for any trouble."

"Don't worry, my dears," said the professor gallantly, "I'll rescue you from any difficulties."

Yelena laughed and kissed the old man on the cheek. "Of course you will. I don't know why we

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bother with these other men, do you, Tashi?"

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"But they are decorative, aren't they?" the Princess replied archly. It was fun to have a girl with whom she could gang up against the boys--she'd never had a friend like that before. "They give

us something to look at on the boring stretches of the road." She let her eyes linger on Ramil,

who appeared very warm all of a sudden.

Yelena swung herself into the saddle. "My, my, Princess, I didn't know you could flirt."

"I'm learning from a master--or should I say mistress--of that art," Tashi said with a bow.

The girls trotted off, their joking tone replaced by seriousness once they were out of sight and

had rejoined the road.

"Do I look all right?" Tashi asked, touching her hair nervously. She felt exposed after the days spent looking at the world from behind a veil.

"I suppose you don't mean 'How do I look in this?' You're wondering if they'll recognize you. No, sister, they won't think you're a princess, not dressed like a peasant and with hair that cries out

your Brigardian ancestry."

"Good. So will they let us through?" Tashi checked she still had her new set of forged documents safe in her saddlebags.

"Let me do the talking and be prepared to bat your eyelashes at them. I don't think they'll see us as a threat--light relief maybe from their boredom, but not a threat. You can be thankful that

men always underestimate us women."

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The two girls arrived at the checkpoint and joined

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the queue moving slowly forward. There were plenty of other refugees from Kandar, all hoping

for a better life in the big cities of Holt.

The border guard peered out from his box at Yelena and Tashi when they reached the front of

their line. He brightened up and smoothed his moustache.

"Well, ladies, what brings you here?" he asked, unrolling their documents.

"Off to Tigral, sir," Yelena said, bathing him in the full glow of her widest smile. "We hear there's work to be had for a pair of willing girls in the big houses."

"I'm sure you'll have no difficulty finding a place," he said, stamping their papers with a flourish.

"But you'd best find some company for the road." He leant forward and said conspiratorially,

"All sorts of bad types on the move--

soldiers, slavers, and now there's a rumor there's a witch of some sort on the loose."

"Save us, sir!" Tashi gasped, touching her forehead in the sign she had so often seen in her vicinity. "I hope we don't run into her!"

"So do I, my dears, so do I. Travel well!"

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Keeping a straight face, the two girls prodded their horses forward. Yelena allowed herself to

laugh only when they had ridden through the border village. She then aped Tashi's expression of

horror. "Oh, save us, sir, save us!" she said in a high voice. "You should have joined the players, Tashi; you're a natural."

The girls found a secluded corner not far off the road and passed the time practicing the combat

techniques Yelena had been teaching Tashi over the past week.

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The men seemed to be taking a long time to catch up. The girls were just beginning to get

anxious when they heard the sounds of heavy horses. They ran to the edge of the road and

waved down their friends. Professor Norling was in a high dudgeon, his protests already vocal

before he reached them.

"They strip-searched me!" he burst out. "Me! Old enough to be their grandfather and they made me stand naked in the road, my things all unpacked in the mud!"

"They were only doing their job," said Ramil wearily. He had evidently had much of this

complaint to endure since leaving the border. "They're looking for enemies-- you must admit

they had a point."

"Point! To make the four of us--and those other men--stand in our birthday suits for all to see!"

"Shame we rode on so quickly," Yelena murmured to Tashi.

"I trust they did not subject you to the same indignity?" Ramil asked the girls delicately.

"No, the guard was most helpful. Told us to beware of bad sorts on the road and waved us on

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our way," Tashi replied.

"I'm pleased for your sake, my dears," said Professor Norling, "though I still think it very unfair."

"Very stupid, you mean," Melletin muttered to Ramil. "I mean, who would you prefer to

search?"

Ramil did not have to think very long about his answer.

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Riding through eastern Holt, Tashi was surprised to find it a beautiful country. Having met

Fergox, she had expected it to reflect his character: harsh, warlike, and uncompromising, but

instead it was a gentle landscape of meadows just awakening to the early southern spring; flocks

of sheep and goats out to pasture, well tended vines and olive trees. The villages looked

prosperous: houses with terracotta roofs and white-washed walls nestled together around the

village temple. But there were jarring notes: at many crossroads they came across the bodies of

Fergox's enemies, hanging in chains from scaffolds; the temples in the villages were decked in

red war banners and the steps sprinkled with blood from recent sacrifices. Despite this, Tashi

could not rid herself of the impression that Fergox's influence did not run deep, that if he was no

longer in power, the people of this land would not find it difficult to return to a more peaceful

existence.

She expressed this view to Professor Norling, who was riding with them until the road divided,

one branch to Tigral, another continuing to the desert regions.

"Yes, my dear, eastern Holt has a rich culture of its own--not at all warlike.

Fergox has his power base in the harsher mountainous west. His own people come from there.

They are a seafaring nation, making up for what the land lacks with raids on more fortunate

countries. But I'm sure you are very familiar with them because they form his pirate fleet. I

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would advise you to steer clear, if you can, on your journey home."

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They passed a line of workers preparing the soil for sowing.

"But look there, child," Norling said, pointing with his cane. "That reminds us that the beauty of this land is founded on rottenness. The fields are tilled by slave-labor, the mines worked by

these same poor captives; even the poorest houses of the freeborn have their little slave to

cook, clean, and mind the children."

Tashi looked back at the workers and noticed that they each wore an iron collar.

"How can the people bear it?" she asked.

"The slaves, of course, have no choice. Most are taken from lands subject to Fergox, inferiors in the eyes of the Holtish people. As for the inhabitants, those that have a conscience about such