Bruda should be pleased. The Gate of Autumn was untouchable. The soldiers there were ready for anything.

Control of that gate would be crucial, whatever happened.

He entered Government House enrapt in his own misery. He was in Herodianharness for the first time ever. And Herodian uniforms were not suited for the rain. Until he neared Bruda's offices he did not realize that something waswrong.

The moment the silence struck home he grabbed an ensign and asked what hadhappened.

Worse than he could have imagined in a nightmare. Bruda laid low. Sullo incontrol. "The fool! The damned fool!" This was madness. "It's a trap! It hasto be a trap!" And it was too late to keep the trap from closing.

Nothing to do now but try to survive.

The sentries assigned to patrol the wall north of the Gate of Autumn were not.

They huddled inside, out of the rain. Their officers were more guilty thanthey. Because the sentries were not in an area considered critical no one hadinformed them that there was high excitement in Qushmarrah tonight.

The wall did not remain naked. Nomads came and dropped rope ladders. Silentmen came up from outside, moved into the city, steady as trails of ants.

Who would believe it? Dartars did not go toward possible battle without theirmounts. Everyone knew that who knew nothing about life.and history in theKhadatqa Mountains.

No Herodian saw them but they were not overlooked by the eyes of the Living.

Governor Sullo moved down Char Street toward where Fa'tad al-Akla had had his command post. His Moretians formed a tight screen around him. A tribune by hisside said, "The men are moving into the maze through all the entrances theDartars left open."

"What about the savages? Any resistance?"

"No. They've scattered like startled mice. We've only caught one so far. Justa kid. Didn't know which way to run. Ended up plowing right into our men. Theyscared hell out of him. Had him talking in five minutes."

"Good. I'll have a few questions for him. Can we do something about theseanimals?" Char Street was filled with nervous horses and camels.

"They'll wander away when they get hungry enough, sir."

Sullo gave the tribune a sharp look. Another one of those, performing hisduties with an absolute rectitude that masked a contempt for the civilauthority.

They would by damned get that whipped out of them before he was finished withQushmarrah.

Momentarily, he wondered what reliable hulls were available, in harbor. Hewould have a treasure fleet to form as soon as the weather cleared.

"This is where al-Akla was set up." A file of soldiers with unhappy faces, carrying lanterns, moved into an alleyway steadily.

"They look like they know where they're going."

"The routes in are marked out with ropes and, I gather, the false branches have been blocked off. So it's just a matter of following ropes to the area where the Dartars are mining."

"Good of them to do the work for us."

"Yes sir."

"Is that the prisoner?" He indicated a Dartar standing against a wall, unguarded, apparently too scared to run.

"Yes sir."

"Let's look at him."

The savage shrank away as Sullo approached. The tribune was right. He was just a kid. "You," Sullo said. "You were with al-Akla?" The boy looked at him blankly. Of course. He did not speak Herodian. Another of Cado's failings. He should have made them learn.

"Can you talk to him?"

"Yes sir."

"Ask him where al-Akla is."

The tribune asked. The boy gulped, looked around for help that was not there, started chattering.

"He says al-Akla is in the labyrinth, directing the mining. Most of his captains are with him. Fa'tad expects trouble when he gets into the citadel.

Big trouble, apparently."

Sullo asked questions. The boy answered with apparent forthrightness, shaking. He did not know much that was useful except that Fa'tad was so sure he faced a fight he had taken a thousand men into the maze with him.

"The boy is a dolt. Al-Akla didn't take a mob in there to storm the citadel, he took them to hold it after he gets inside." The last soldiers had disappeared into the alley. Sullo walked over and lookedinside, the tribune and Moretians staying with him. He stared into thedarkness. His feet felt cooler than they ought. A quarter-inch-deep flow ofwater came from the alley.

He glanced to one side ... "What happened to the boy?"

The prisoner had vanished.

Sullo felt a sudden hollow develop in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong here ...

But that could not be.

He recalled Annalaya's cryptic remark about the faces of fortune.

The arrows began to fall with the rain, hissing like quarrelsome snakes. Moretians began to drop. Lanterns fell and broke. Tricklets of burning oil slithered across wet stone.

Sullo grabbed the only chance he had. He flung his fat bulk into the darkness before him. When the door slammed shut Aaron bent, fed the wick of a candle to a coal in the hearth, coaxed a flame to life. He held the candle high.

The Dartar boy stood with his back against the door. His face cloth was gone. He looked terrible, as though he had just peered down the throat of Hell.

Aaron got up and went toward him.

"Don't. Don't look out there."

"I was going to bar the door." He took hold of the boy's arm and urged him toward the hearth, sat him down. Laella and Mish were wide awake, watching. Aaron nodded to Mish. "Make some tea." He went back and barred the door.

Mish settled onto her knees before the hearth, fed in a few precious pieces of fuel. She did not look at the boy directly when she asked, "What's wrong, Yoseh? Did they scare you that bad? Did they hurt you?"

"No. Yes. They scared me. But it's not that. It's what's going to happen now.

Fa'tad is going to kill them." Faintly, through the heavy door, Aaron heard cries. From her position against the back wall Laella said, "Aaron, this wall is damp again. You've really got to do something."

Each time there was a heavy rain the wall passed water. He thought it came down from a bad spot in the roof. But nothing he tried did any good. He took a look mainly to keep peace in the household.

This time there were beads of water on the bottom foot of the wall, forming and dribbling down like drops of sweat. The ferrenghi witch glanced up when Fa'tad made his entrance. She did not seemsurprised. "So. Fortune did wear a false mask." Maybe nothing could surprise asorceress.

"What?"

"I cautioned him that his luck might not be as good as it appeared."

"He was a small man, fat with greed, easily led."

"Yes. Was? You killed him?"

Fa'tad smiled, a little sadly, a little wearily. He was an old man and age had taken its toll of everything but will. "No. He's underground but he isn't yetdead."

"I see. And you come to me because you want into the citadel."

"Yes." No point hiding it.

"There was no hidden way in then, through the maze?"

"No."

"What will you do about Nakar? Are you one of those who want to restore him?"

Suddenly, she seemed intense. . Fa'tad chuckled. "I'd be the first devoured if Nakar were resurrected. I value these old bones too much to permit that."

She studied him briefly, assessing his honesty. "I'll help you, then. Theancient doom must be discharged. Nakar must be destroyed, whoever helpscomplete the task."

Al-Akla frowned, surprised and puzzled. "I expected to work for that." He didnot question his good fortune. "How close are you to finding the path?" Hewould not argue with fortune but he would keep a sharp eye on it.

"An hour or an eternity. This is sorcery. No gate pattern can be definedcompletely from outside. Each is unique. Each must be opened by steps. I havebeen eliminating those possibilities made impossible by this pattern's needsand what we know of its specifics. I have reached my limit from this vantage, though. Now I have to have someone actually walk the pattern. Colonel Brudaoffered me prisoners to use. His promise is no longer of value."