"We're here," he said pointing to the port district. "When the troops attack they are likely to try to surround us and wear us down with crossbows and archers posted on these vantage points."

He indicated the tall houses up the hill with roofs overlooking the square.

Ramil sat cross-legged on a crate, his commanders around him.

"Well, we've known all along we can't stay here. If I were them, I'd also attack from the sea,

opening up a fourth front. We'll be squeezed to death if we try to defend this place. What would

be the most defensible spot in Tigral?"

"That'd be the palace--it's got walls all the way around it," said a local man.

"Then I suggest we move headquarters to more comfortable

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accommodations," Ramil said with a grin.

"But, brother," said one of the Brigardians, "we can't just go marching up there and knock on the door!"

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"Oh, I wasn't thinking of knocking. Remember, my friends, Fergox has sent his army to the

border; the garrison here will be at its lowest for years. The city authorities will be demanding

their assistance to crush us rebellious slaves. What I had in mind was something to force their

hand and empty the palace of the fighting men. If we could bait them to attack us at the market,

we could take advantage of their distraction and some of us can use it to enter the palace."

Melletin rubbed his chin. "But that would be suicidal for those left down in the market. Why not

divide our forces and start lots of minor disturbances all over the lower city? Let's get the

authorities chasing their tails. We can then, on an agreed signal, melt away and all make our

way to the palace."

"I like it." Ramil rubbed his hands together. "Now I know why my father has counsellors--to do the thinking for him."

"I'm thinking like a bandit, Prince, not a counsellor," Melletin explained.

"But the success of this particular bit of banditry would depend on the discipline of our troops,"

Ramil pointed out. "It would be a disaster if they disappeared and never showed up again. I

don't fancy trying to hold the palace on my own."

"Some of them will desert," said a commander from among the galley slaves,

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"but the majority will stay with us--at least as long as they think you offer them a better future."

Future? Ramil hadn't been thinking that far ahead,

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but the men needed to know he would see this through to the end. It was his duty to do so. He

couldn't expect them to risk their lives as he did in the hopes of helping a distant Gerfal.

"You can tell them that if, with their aid and if God wills, we win the city, there will be no slavery, but neither will there be a bloody revenge. I'm not here to reverse matters so that slaves

become masters and masters slaves. I'm here to rewrite the rules completely."

The galley man displayed the sores on his ankles where his chains had eaten into his flesh. "No

man should be a slave. I hope, young Prince, you live to bring in your new order."

"So do I, my friend, so do I."

Preparations were set in motion to split Ramil's army into divisions charged with causing trouble

in the different quarters of the city. Melletin and his Brigardians volunteered to take on the

toughest assignment, the fort down at the harbor. Yelena and her volunteers chose the food

markets. Gordoc said he would stay with Ramil and a party of a hundred hand-picked men who

were going straight for the palace.

"We move out at first light," said Ramil, "so everyone get some rest."

"What about our guests?" asked Yelena, gesturing to the caged merchants.

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"If we're abandoning this position, what shall we do with them?"

"Kill them," suggested a man from Kandar running his thumb down the edge of his knife.

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"Now, now," said Yelena, batting him playfully on the arm, "none of that.

After all, I've got quite fond of my pet master and wouldn't like to see him hurt."

"And neither do we want to start the day with revenge killings," Ramil added.

"If they are guilty of crimes against you, they should be given a trial, but unfortunately there's no time. No, I think the best thing to do is to leave them here. They have served their purpose.

Once we move, either we'll be strong enough to defend ourselves or we will have failed and

they become

irrelevant. Besides, I imagine we will have plenty of new hostages to handle if we get as far as

the palace."

This comment met with a general murmur of assent.

The meeting was on the point of breaking up when Jules, one of Yelena's troops, entered the

shed at a run.

"Prince, there's a man here who wants to speak to you," she announced breathlessly.

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"One of the merchant families come to bargain, I expect," Ramil said with a groan. He had

suffered these embassies repeatedly over the past week. "I swear they are trying to wear me

down so 1 drop my price."

"That's merchants for you," said Gordoc with a shrug.

"He's not a merchant; he's--" Jules began.

"Let me through, let me through!" Professor Norling forced his way past the guard and marched into the shed. "Ah, it is you! I thought as much when I heard the rumors of a dark prince being in residence. What

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foolishness made you a slave, eh? See what happens when I leave you children to your own

devices!"

"Professor!" Ramil leapt up and embraced the doctor. Then Gordoc thumped him on the back,

Melletin shook his hand vigorously, and Yelena planted a kiss on his blushing cheek.

Smiling at this welcome, Norling looked round the room. "And where's our little princess?"

Melletin shook his head, trying to warn him off the subject. Ramil closed his eyes; in the tumult

of the past days, he'd managed not to dwell too much on Tashi's fate. Yelena whispered in the

old man's ear.

"I see." Norling coughed awkwardly. "I'm more sorry than I can say."

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Ramil braced himself; he could not slide back into paralyzing grief again. If Tashi were dead, he

would soon be joining her if he didn't focus on the task at hand, and she would never forgive

him.

"I take it, Professor, this is not only a social visit?" he asked, his voice almost normal.

"No, of course not. I've come to ask why on earth you haven't called on me before now?"

Ramil took a step back. "Er . . . well, we've been a bit busy, Professor."

"I can see that for myself. I had a terrible job getting here: they've ringed you off with troops five men deep. I had to crawl through the tunnels and some of them are in a disgusting state."

Norling sniffed his robe with a doubtful look.

"But why you did not

think to ask the

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resistance for aid is beyond me. We can be immensely helpful to you."

Ramil struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Stupid! I should have been drowned at

birth," he muttered.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," said Norling generously. "I don't think it's too late.

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In fact, I'd say that you've managed very well without me."

"So, what can you do?" asked Melletin, pulling up a barrel for him to sit on.

"Firstly, I can move your men around the city for you undetected--that's if you don't want to