The library contained two outsiders, each still as a statue. Caracene was one. Her eyes gleamed fear. The other was a well-dressed man, though his clothing was a little flashy. He seemed more resigned than frightened.

"Searched him?" Rider asked.

"Yep. Down to his socks." Chaz indicated ten pounds of razor-sharp cutlery upon the library table. "Regular walking arsenal, this guy."

"I'll release him from the field," Rider said. He ignored Caracene.

Chaz drew his sword.

Rider negated the static spell which held the captives. Caracene staggered. Greystone and Preacher caught her, placed her firmly into a chair. Rider offered a second chair to the other captive. The man seated himself with dignity. He kept his hands carefully in sight.

"A professional," Chaz said.

Rider nodded. Of the man, he asked, "Do I need to indulge in a truth-drawing?"

"You'd be wasting your time. I don't know anything." "Perhaps. Who gave you the ring you used to gain entry?"

"Sanjek Polybos House."

Rider concealed his astonishment. The others were less successful. The prisoner seemed not to notice. "Your assignment?" Rider asked. "Pick up anything he might find interesting." "That's pretty general. Wasn't he more specific?" The captive thought a moment. He eyed Greystone, who was setting up for a truth-drawing, just in case. "He did mention a key to a Treasury lock box.

Nothing else specific. I got the impression papers and documents would be of considerable interest." "Your name?"

The man smiled. "Zantos? Yes. Zantos Leaela." Rider nodded. In a Saverne side country dialect the name meant approximately Stranger Dark As Night. More colloquially, Shadowman. In a way, what Rider had expected from his first glimpse of the man. "Put him in the lumber room."

"You made sense out of that?" Chaz asked, once the prisoner was out of the way. "Yes. He's one of the King's Shadows." "The secret agents who watch for sedition? But ... " "Sanjek Polybos House," Rider said. "We have been mistaken again. We were looking for a place, a building, when we should have been looking for a person." He took Vlazos' key from his pocket. "A person very high up, who is part of the conspiracy." Sanjek, as a title, ranked with legate, legionary commander, or general. Rumor said five men of Sanjek rank controlled the King's Shadows.

One ranked the other four and reported directly to King Belledon. Of the others, one was responsible for the City, another for the Home Territories. The other two oversaw the eastern and western provinces of the empire.

"Obviously, Shai Khe has found ways around Vlazos' death."

Rider faced Caracene. "And what was your mission?"

"I was not sent. I came to warn Chaz ... "

"Been singing us the same song," Su-Cha said. "As if anybody is fool enough to believe that even the big thug's own mother would give him warning ... "

The barbarian snagged Su-Cha from behind. His meaty hands surrounded the imp's neck. He wore several silver rings. Su-Cha could not escape. Chaz lifted him chest high. "Should we stew him or fry him?"

"Warn Chaz about what?" Rider asked.

Caracene would say no more.

"Chaz?"

"The way I get it, Kentan Rubios expected an attempt on his life." He beamed at Caracene. Su- Cha kicked and squeaked, to no avail. "He talked about asking us to help. One of the conspirators heard. When Shai Khe found out, he sent men to intercept any messengers coming from Rubios."

"Did a message come?"

"No."

"Interesting. But you didn't explain why Caracene is here."

"Rubios was supposed to be killed. She was afraid I might try to stop it and get myself hurt."

Su-Cha unleashed a wild, braying, peacock peal of derisive laughter. Chaz cut it off by squeezing his throat.

"So. Independent confirmation of Belledon's suspicions."

"You going to see him?"

"Soon. Yes. He may know more than 1 thought. And I should let him know what we've found out."

"What about our spy?"

"We'll keep him till we track down Polybos House. But we'll let him go eventually. He hasn't done any evil." Rider fingered the Vlazos key. That bore immediate investigation if someone wanted it recovered. "I'd best get to it."

At the door, Chaz whispered, "What about the woman?" He now carried Su-Cha in one hand, toes dragging, like a child dragging a doll.

"Hold on to her. If she's told the truth, she's put herself in danger."

XVII

"Well," Soup said as Spud sat up, clutching his head. "We're alive. For now."

"Where are we?" Spud asked. And, "What did they give us? I've never had a hangover like this."

"I don't know. To both. With me it's my stomach."

"They dragged us onto a ship. I remember that."

"This is no ship." Darkness surrounded them. So did the odors of damp earth and rot. "You tied up?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Yes. But I think I can get loose."

A bright square of light materialized overhead, nearly blinding them. Vague dark shapes looked down. "You guys awake?"

Spud saw no need to pretend otherwise. "Yeah."

"Good. Ready to eat?"

"How the hell are we going to eat tied up like this?"

"I don't know. That's your problem. We just get paid to watch and feed you."

"Where are we?"

"In a hole in the ground." Both men above laughed. One lowered a basket by rope.

"Hurry it up," one jailor said. "I ain't going to sit here all day."

"Hell, let the rope go," the other said.

The line snaked down. The square of light vanished. Soup asked Spud, "What do you make of our new quarters?"

"Only what we know already. It's an old cellar of some kind."

"Those weren't the guys who caught us."

"Hired thugs."

"How do we get out?"

"First let's get untied. Step at a time."

"I'm almost loose ... There. Be done in a minute."

It took longer. Soup's fingers were numb. But in ten minutes both men were free. Soup said,

"Shall we sample our host's hospitality?"

"Your stomach better? My head is still pounding."

"A little. I'm starved. We must have been out a long time."

They emptied the basket.

They used the rope to measure their prison. It was twenty-one paces by twelve, and in terrible repair. One end wall was partly collapsed. But that was no help.

Spud found human bones. Neither he nor Soup cared to speculate on their significance.

Soup said, "Looks like the only way out is the way we came in."

"Yeah. How high you figure that was?"

"Twelve feet."

"We could reach it if I stood on your shoulders."

"Maybe. If we could find it. If it isn't locked or something. And if there isn't a guard outside. If I was guarding I'd sit on the lid."

"Best time would be at night, wouldn't it? Real early in the morning night."

Soup asked, "How are you going to know?"

The darkness was dense in that pit. It was a darkness so dense it set the eye to seeing imaginary spooks. But it was not a darkness reserved to them alone. Whenever they were silent for a time, small things rustled. Sometimes it seemed the things were not so small.

"There," Spud said.

"What?"

"Made a lariat out of the rope."

"What good is that?"

"I don't know. Yet. It's a tool. The only one we have. Maybe I could rope the guy and pull him in."

Soup did not think much of that. "Maybe we ought to sit tight."

"You think Rider knows where we are?"

"There's a good chance."

They sat tight a few hours because they had no choice.

Next time a meal came through the hatchway the light was weaker outside. Spud complained, "How about you guys untie us? There's rats down here."

Only one man had come. He laughed. "You don't eat for a few days, those ropes will loosen up."