"She has failed to see all the implications of her husband's death."

"She's lived a long time, General, and most of it completely out of touch withreality. She's surrounded by sycophants content to feed her fantasies."

"Then it's time she was awakened."

Azel listened as the old man told him what to do. He indicated his understanding and approval with a single nod. "There's one piece of news.

Concerning the new civil governor, who seems eager to make enemies."

"Go ahead."

"He's chosen the villa of the widow of General Hanno bel-Karba as his residence. A damn fool idea that can't have come to him overnight. He musthave had people here ahead of time, looking for ways he can make trouble. Wordis, he's already sent the General's widow a letter ordering her to vacate bysundown tonight."

The old man remained silent for a long time. Then he said, "I wanted theorganization to stay out of sight and mind. But this cannot be tolerated. Isuppose he's threatened to evict her?"

"Of course."

"The man is mad. He wants to get himself killed. But that is nothing to you.

On about enduring your own travails."

General Cado was livid. He'd just heard from Sullo's own mouth a plan forconfiscating the properties of the widow of General bel-Karba. Insanity! Hispate was scarlet. He sputtered with rage.

Cado faced away from Sullo until he regained control. Then he faced around.

"You come with a certain reputation, Marteo Sullo. I assumed that most of whatI've heard was slander from the mouths of your enemies. But today I've learnedthat they have been too kind. Maybe they were ashamed to tell the whole truthabout your arrogance, your vanity, your stupidity."

Now Sullo sputtered.

"You came here planning to embarrass me, eh? Stealing that old woman's houselooks like an easy way, eh? Because she enjoys my favor? Maybe that's true.

But did you bother to find out who she is and what she means to the people ofQushmarrah? The hell you did. You fool. You try to take that woman's home andthe very least you'll do is end up dead. If you stay ahead of death for longit could mean the end of every Herodian in the city."

Sullo sneered, but beneath his sneer there was a hint of uncertainty, avarnish of fear.

Cado shifted to a gentler tone and pressed his advantage. "You saw the entirestrength at my command yesterday afternoon. Twelve thousand Herodian troopsnot of the first quality or they would be out facing the Suldan of Aquira.

Five thousand Dartar mercenaries commanded by an unpredictable madman whocould turn on us any minute. With them I control Qushmarrah-just barely- because ninety-nine out of a hundred Qushmarrahans don't give a damn who runs things as long as certain precious institutions are left alone. That old womanis one of those institutions. Her husband never lost a battle in his life, whether single combat or massed armies. He is revered as a warrior demigod.

These people believe he was struck down by assassins in Herodian pay.

"And that's true. And he won that fight, too. He killed them all. But he wasinjured so badly he could not participate in the battle at Dak-es-Souetta. Hedied of his wounds as we were taking possession of the city. Death was theonly enemy ever to best him. Diehards hid the body and tried to convince thepeople that he was still alive, but they failed."

"Is this fable supposed to impress or intimidate me?"

"It's supposed to warm a sense of reasonable caution in that dried-up pea youuse for a brain."

Sullo smiled nastily. "The masks are off now, aren't they?"

"They are."

"There is a strong party back home which feels that you have been criminallyslack in bringing these people to heel and converting them."

"I suspected as much. Though I read my failing as not having stolen enoughQushmarrahan treasure to slake their greed."

"They've sent me here to make up for your deficiencies." Another nasty smile.

Cado smiled right back. "This little chat has been more useful than Isuspected it would be. It's shown me my course of action. Which is to take noaction at all. All I need do is back away and give you your head."

Sullo eyed him narrowly, distrusting the triumph.

"You'll be dead before the week is out."

"If you dare ..."

"Not I, Governor. I won't lift a finger. You. Committing suicide. Your lovingsubjects, who're about as tamed and converted as they're going to letthemselves get, are going to cut your throat. I'll wish you good day, sir.

I'll even wish you good luck. You may make these people appreciate me muchmore than they do."

Sullo stalked out, not able to conceal his anger at being discounted.

General Cado relaxed, wondered how best to get convincing word to the Livingthat he and his had no part in Sullo's schemes, that he and the army ofoccupation would remain neutral in any dispute.

Medjhah was right. The tall and haughty woman came back, taller and haughtierthan ever, but cutting a course much closer to the alley mouth. Medjhahrenewed his invitation. The ice woman responded with a sway of body that saidhips were moving in cruel mockery beneath her clothing. Her satellites giggledbehind their hands and one who could not have been more than a year older thanYoseh flashed him a clumsy wink that scrunched up one whole side of her face.

He winked back just to keep the game alive. He whispered, They, too, were children when the rivers ran with blood."

Medjhah uncoiled. "I'm going to stretch my legs, kid."

"Be careful."

"Hey. What's my middle name? I'm not going to get near her. Them. I'm justgoing to see where they live." He drifted into traffic and disappeared. Yosehsat and brooded on the meaning of life and death and decided he probablywouldn't live long enough to figure it all out.

The glare off the harbor was intense. Yoseh closed his eyes. He may have dozedfor a few minutes. When he opened his eyes again he found a veydeen childstaring at him. The boy seemed familiar ... He looked some like the girl downthe street. Of course! He had seen the boy with the old woman.

Something scaly and cold uncoiled and stretched inside his stomach. "Hello.

What's your name?" He tried very hard to get his tongue around the odd shapeof the Qushmarrahan dialect.

"Arif. What's yours? Are you really a Dartar soldier?"

"Good morning, Arif. I am Yoseh, the son of Melchesheydek. Yes, I am a Dartarwarrior, though I am very new at it." Could the boy understand the differencebetween soldier and warrior? Probably not. Few adult veydeen could do that."

"How come you always wrap your face up in those black cloths?"

Yoseh could not answer that one. It was something you began doing when youbecame an adult. It was something the lesser tribes of the veydeen and theferrenghi did not do, so that they stood apart, branded, uncouth andlascivious. It was something he did not ponder. It was something that was.

He countered with a question of his own. "What is your sister's name?"

The boy looked baffled.

Yoseh repeated himself slowly, carefully, thinking he had botched the dialect.

The glow of illumination lighted the kid's face. He said, "You must mean Mish.

She's not my sister. She's my aunt. My mom's sister. Her real name is Tamisabut everybody calls her Mish. She's a real grouch."

Well. So.

Yoseh fell into a long conversation with Arif. He did most of the talking, answering questions about his native mountains and deserts and those greatsalt flats called the Takes, and about Dartar skirmishes with the Turoksavages who lived beyond the Takes. He got in a few questions of his own, mostly defining Arifs family.

Another of those families decimated by the war. No close relatives leftoutside this house except some married aunts. The same sort of story you heardeverywhere.