Gold, silver, and jewels were as valuable to Dartars as to anyone and Fa'tadhad said he wanted the treasures of the citadel for his people, so they couldbuy their way out of the grip of famine. But if he plundered Qushmarrah andleft an angry coast behind, where would he spend his treasure?

The others looked at bel-Sidek, less than honoring, waiting for him to dropsome pearl of wisdom they could condemn or contradict. He said nothing. Hepreferred to let someone else start the inevitable argument.

Salom Edgit obliged. "What're we going to do?" His tone implied that someonewas ducking hard choices. This Salom Edgit who, a few days ago, had had nofaith in the future or movement.

"We're not going to do anything. For now."

"What?" They looked at him with varying expressions. Carza was furious.

"Is there any sensible reason to get our men killed while Fa'tad isn'tbothering anyone but Herodians? If he turns on our people we'll respond.

Meantime, let his men take the brunt. We'll conserve strength and trickle itinto areas where concentrations will be useful if we do have to fight."

Zenobel protested. "But honor ..."

"Honor hasn't got a damned thing to do with it. And never has. All right. Saywe try to get even for Dak-es-Souetta. Our men are poorly armed and out oftraining and not all of them are anxious to fight, anyway. Win or lose, we'dsuffer badly. Say we did smash Fa'tad. Then with whatever we had left we'd hadto deal with the surviving Herodians, then with the expeditions Cado sent outwhen they return, then with whatever Herod sends to restore order."

"You have a negative outlook, bel-Sidek."

"Would you say it's unrealistic?"

"Damn it, no! I hate it, but you're right."

Carza snapped, "Yet with Nakar restored we'd suffer none of those weaknesses."

King said, "I'd sooner swear allegiance to Herod."

Carza seemed baffled.

Smugly, bel-Sidek asked, "Have you forgotten what it was like when Nakar wasalive?"

"No," Carza snapped back. "I haven't forgotten." His anger was in check by thestrength of a whisker.

Carza's family had been favored under the old order. So some there were whowould welcome a restoration, not having had to bear the weight of thesorcerer's previous incarnation.

For some reason bel-Sidek thought of the carpenter Aaron with his powerfulresentments of those who had ruled before the conquest. There were tens ofthousands of Aarons in Qushmarrah and they could well represent an additionalfactor in the already confused power equation.

Only Nakar the Abomination had been strong enough to rule without some degreeof consent from the ruled.

The argument sputtered on without bel-Sidek contributing, reason graduallyconquering passion. Carza's view won no support. Bel-Sidek watched the Dartarsmove around in front of the citadel.

Speak of the devil! There the carpenter was, right in the middle of things.

But would he not be at that gate himself if it was his son imprisoned andscheduled for sacrifice? Hell, yes. And damned be the politics.

He could find nothing in his heart with which to condemn the man. "Carza. Will you come look at those people and see if you can tell what they're doing?"

Carza did as he was told, with poor grace.

What kind of rule could they provide, should they come to power, when theycould not manage courtesy, or even civility, among themselves?

A nasty thought tracked across his mind. If Herod and Fa'tad were pushed out, there might be a bloody period till a strongman emerged. And that man wasunlikely to be Colonel Sisu bel-Sidek. He did not have the backing. Pressed, he would have to bet on Zenobel.

It was something to consider in his spare moments. His companions would bethinking about it, not that the possibility of independence actually existed.

Carza snorted, then laughed softly. "The fools are going at it from the wrongdirection. They can't get in through the main gate."

Bel-Sidek's stomach knotted suddenly. No! So much time had fled already. Forall anyone knew they were bringing Nakar around right now ...

He wished to hell he had some idea what was going on in there.

He tried to put that out of mind. Too much fear came with those thoughts. Hisstated attitudes condemned him as surely as any Dartar or Herodian shouldNakar make his return.

King Dabdahd crept up beside him. "You were always the genius staffer, bel- Sidek. The strategist the old man counted on. What would you do with thecitadel if you grabbed it? You think Fa'tad might?"

It was not like King to dither and flutter around the edges of something butit was not like him to have an original thought, either. Clearly, he had hadone. He did not want to state it plainly because someone might laugh.

Bel-Sidek saw it clearly enough. "You could be right."

Fa'tad might want the citadel itself as much as the treasures inside it. Fromwithin its impenetrable walls he could scour the city of every valuable beforehe left for his mountains-or he could stay and rule, harvesting Qushmarrah'swealth slowly and more certainly. He might even rule with a certainbenevolence, restricting his predations to Herodians and those who declaredthemselves his enemies.

He'd then have a place to spend treasures for the benefit of his people.

At last bel-Sidek thought he saw the true face of Fa'tad's ambition. Anambition that would live or die according to whether or not he took thecitadel before Nakar quickened.

"You're right, King. Thanks for making me see it. I'll give it some thought."

What it meant, though, he feared, was that the Living would have to try toprevent it-with all that implied in lives wasted and new vulnerabilities.

Salom Edgit asked, "Do we all have to be up here for this? I could use achance to dry out."

"I can go along with that," Carza said.

Bel-Sidek nodded. Still, someone had to keep an eye on the Dartars. He askedfor a volunteer, got King Dabdahd. The rest headed for shelter and continueddebate.

The fleet from Qushmarrah reached the far shore of the Gulf of Tuhn soonerthan anticipated. The weather was more hospitable there. The troops wereashore and ready to greet the Turoks before nightfall. Whatever happenedelsewhere, those raiders would be numbered among General Lentello Cado'striumphs.

Not a soul witnessed the Herodian landing.

Zouki followed Arif wherever he went, whatever he did. Arif fled, dismayed bythe look in Zouki's eyes, a terrible but unreasoning look. A beast look.

What did it mean? His young mind could not make sense of it. It was merelyanother fright among many.

The big man and another came to the cage. Arif was terrified. Something aboutthe shorter man ... Zouki was frightened, too. He ran to hide with the rockapes, though he remembered nothing directly.

The two men stared at Arif and spoke too softly to be overheard. Arif was surethey were talking about him. He wanted to run and hide, too, but waspetrified. He did not want to get closer to Zouki, either. And there wasnowhere else to run.

One of the girls came to Arif after the men left. She just stared at him. Thatmade him uncomfortable. He said, "My dad will get me out." He wanted tobelieve that so badly he had convinced himself it was true.

Belief made the terror almost bearable.

Aaron felt like a clown, carrying a knife and a sword. He could not helpthinking his Dartar companions found him amusing. What did he know aboutswords? He had not had one in hand for six years and even back then all he'ddone was keep his blade clean and sharp and oiled. That night in his own homewas the only time he'd seriously tried to kill somebody.

Then he looked at the Dartars more closely. It was unlikely many were moreexperienced than he. They were too young. Fa'tad would have his veteransplaced where the chances of real fighting were greatest. The advantage theseboys had was that they had grown up in a harsher environment and fiercerculture.