Manda wailed in terror as the brutes held her down. The men roared with laughter at her wails, but they could hardly be heard above all the noise. Clarissa felt her eyes water. These were not men. They were wild animals.

A man snatched Clarissa by the hair. another hooked her leg with an arm. They laughed as her scream joined all the others. Before she landed on her back, they had her dress up. "No!" she cried out.

They laughed at her, as the others were laughing at Manda. "No-I was sent!"

"Good," one man said. "I was tired of waiting my turn." He smacked her when she fought off his hands. The pain of the wallop stunned her, and made her ears hum.

She had a silver ring. That meant something. She had a silver ring. She heard a woman not two feet away grunt as a man flopped down on her back. Her silver ring did her no good. either. "Mallack!" Clarissa screamed. "Captain Mallack sent me!" The man put a fist in her hair and crushed a grimy, bristly kiss to her lips. Her wound, from the ring through her lip, sang with pain and she could feel blood gush anew across her chin.

"My thanks to Captain Mallack," he "aid. He bit her ear, making her scream again as the other man pawed at her smallclothes. She tried desperately to remember what the prophet had told her to say.

"Message!" she cried out. "Captain Mallack sent me with a message! He said I'm to lead you down to the books. He said to tell you to get your sorry hides down to the books right now or the dream walker would pay you a visit you would regret."

The men cursed obscenely, then pulled her to her feet by her hair. She smoothed her dress down with trembling hands. The half dozen men around her laughed. One slid a hand back up between her legs.

"Well, don't just stand there enjoying it, bitch. Get going. Lead the way." Her legs had all the starch of wet rope and she had to hold the rail on the way down the stairs. Visions of what she had seen flashed through her mind in a jumble as she led the half dozen men down to the archives. The prophet met them at the door, as if he were about to leave. "There you are. About time," the prophet said in an irritable voice. He gestured back to the room. "Everything is in order. Start packing them up before anything happens, or the emperor will be using us as firewood."

The men frowned in confusion. They glanced about the room. In the center, where Clarissa had seen the prophet stack the books he had taken from the shelves, there was only a stain of white ash. The empty places where he had pulled out books had been closed up, so it didn't appear that any had been removed.

"I smell smoke," one of the men said.

The prophet thunked the man's skull. "Idiot? Half the city is ablaze. At last, you begin to smell smoke? Now, get to it! I have to report on the books I found."

One of them snatched Clarissa's arm as the prophet started leading her out. "Leave her. We'll be needing some entertainment."

The prophet glared at them. "She's a scribe, you fool! She knows all the books. We have more important work for her than amusing you lazy oafs. There are women enough when you finish your work, or would you rather have me report you to Captain Mallack?"

Even though they were confused by who Nathan was, they decided to get to work. Nathan closed the door behind him. He pushed Clarissa on ahead.

On the steps, alone with him in the silence, she halted, leaning against the railing for support. She felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. He put his fingers to her cheek.

"Clarissa, listen to me. Slow your breathing. Think. Slow it down, or you will faint."

Tears coursed down her face. She lifted a hand toward the room she had gone to to get the men. "I. . I saw…" "I know what you saw," he said in a soft voice.

She slapped him. "Why did you send me up there? You didn't need those men!" "You think you will be able to hide You won't. They will search every hole in this city. When they are finished, they will burn it all to the ground. There will be nothing of Renwold left.

"But I. . I could. . I'm afraid of going with you. I don't want to die." "I wanted you to know what will happen to you should you choose to stay here. Clarissa, you are a lovely young woman." He pointed with his chin toward the great hall. "Believe me, you do not want to be here to experience what is going to happen to the women here over the next three days, and then as slaves to the Imperial Order. Please believe me, you don't want that." "How can they do such things? How can they?"

"This is the unspeakable reality of war. There are no rules of conduct except those the aggressor makes, or those the winner can enforce. You can either fight against this, or submit to it."

"Can't. . can't you do anything to help these people?" "No," he whispered. "I can only help you, but I'm not going to waste precious time doing it unless you are worth saving. The dead here died a quick death. Terrible as it was, it was quick.

"Vast numbers of people, many times as many people as lived in this city, are about to die horrible, suffering, lingering deaths. I can't help these people, but I can try to help those others. Is freedom worth having, life worth living, if I don't try?

"It is time for you to decide if you will help, if your life is worth living, worth the Creator's gift of your soul."

Visions of what was happening up in the great hall, out in the streets, and to her whole city flashed chaotically through her mind. She felt as if she were already dead. If she could have a chance to help others, and to live again, she must take it. This was the only chance she would get. She knew it was. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and the blood from her chin. "Yes. I'll help you. I swear on my soul that I will do what you ask, if it means a chance to save lives, and a chance at my freedom."

"Even if I ask you to do something that you fear? Even if you think you will die doing it?" "Yes."

His warm smile made her heart lift. Surprisingly, he drew her to him and gave her a comforting hug. She had been a child the last time she had been comforted with a hug. It made her weep.

Nathan put his fingers to her lip, and she felt a warm sensation of succor. Her terror eased. Her memories of what she had seen now gave her the determination to stop the men who did this, to prevent them from visiting suffering on others. Her mind filled with hope that she might do something important that would help other people to be free, too.

Clarissa felt her lip after Nathan had taken his hand away. It no longer throbbed. The wound was healed around the ring. "Thank you-Prophet."

"Nathan." He ran a hand down her hair. "We must go. The longer we stay here, the greater the chance of never getting away." Clarissa nodded. "I'm ready."

"Not yet." He cupped his big hands to her cheeks. "We must walk through the city, through it all, to get away. You have seen too much already. I don't want you to see any more, or hear any more. I would spare you that much, at least." "But I don't see how we can ever get past the Order." "You let me worry about that. For now, I am going to put a spell over you. You will be blind, so that you don't have to see any more of what is happening to your city, and you will be deaf, so that you don't have to hear any more of the suffering and death that now possesses this place."

She suspected that he feared she might panic and get them caught. She didn't know that he might not be right. "If you say so, Nathan. I will do as you say."

Standing there in the dim light, two steps below her so that his face was closer to hers, he gave her a warm smile. For as old as he was, he was a strikingly handsome man.

"I have chosen the right woman. You will do well. I pray the good spirits grant you freedom in return for your help."