Instead of arguing, Chenaya cocked her head quizzically.

"That's the second time you've mentioned archers or arrows, Jubal. For my own curiosity, were you behind the arrow that nicked Zip?"

Jubal cursed himself inwardly. He would have to stop underestimating this girl just because she was young. Her mind was quick to pick up unrelated conversational points and weave them into whole fabric.

"No," he said carefully, "but I know who was. The eye behind that arrow used to work for me, and unless her skills have degenerated badly since her departure, if his ear was hit, that was the target."

He noted the sudden lift of her eyebrow and realized too late that he had inadvertently given away the gender of the archer. It was time to steer conversation back to less sensitive subjects.

"We were speaking of your infallible luck. You seem to feel that if you never lose, you'll never fail. That kind of thinking is dangerous, both for you and anyone who sides with you. There is no such thing as an unstoppable attack or an impenetrable defense. Believing in one or the other only leads to overconfidence and disaster."

"But if I never fail in battle ..."

"... Like your attack on Theron?" The crimelord smiled.

"The attack was a success. We just chose the wrong target," she argued stubbornly.

"Spare me the rationalizations. Anyone who deals with magic or gods gets quite adept with excuses. All I know is that supernatural intervention exacts a price dearer than most intelligent people are willing to pay."

"Of course, you speak with the authority of one who has had a wide range of experience with gods and magic."

In response, Jubal swept his mask off with one hand.

Vanity made him conceal his unnaturally aged features from all but his closest associates, but at times like this his appearance could be far more eloquent than words.

"I have had one dealing with magic," he said grimly, "and this was the result. Years lost off my life was the price I paid to keep from becoming a cripple. While I do not regret the trade, I would think long and hard before entering into further bargaining. Does it ever occur to you that sooner or later you will have to pay for your luck... for ever dice roll that you do so casually to show off your so-called talent?"

The demonstration had the desired effect on Chenaya. She shook her head in mute admission, averting her eyes from the sight of the now-old man she had once cheered.

"Your noble birth gave you a natural arrogance," the crimelord continued relentlessly, deliberately leaving his mask off, "and your belief in your own infallibility has escalated it to proportions that try the patience and the stomach. You seem to believe that you can do whatever you want, to whomever you want, without regard to consequence or repercussion. Perhaps the most arrogant assumption of all is that you think that your undisciplined behavior is not only acceptable, but admirable. The truth is that people find your antics alternately amusing and offensive. If they either tire of being tolerant, or if you ever actually succeed in putting something together that is seen as a genuine threat, the real powers of this town will squash you like a bug, along with anyone who stands with you."

His taunting stung Chenaya out of her shock. "Let them try," she snapped. "I can ..."

Jubal smiled, watching her face as she stopped in mid-sentence, hearing her own arrogance for the first time.

"You see? And that's while you're sitting there in a blanket after being dumped in the middle of the bay. My guess is that whoever did it to you was merely annoyed. If they had been really mad, they would have dropped you farther out. Yet still you persist in feeling that it doesn't matter who you offend."

Chenaya was hunched forward now, hugging the blanket about her as if it could ward off words and ideas as it had the chill. "Am I really that disliked?" she said without looking up.

Jubal felt a moment of pity for the girl. He had also gone through a period when he wanted friends desperately, only to find that his efforts were ignored or misinterpreted. A part of him wanted to comfort Chenaya, but instead he bore on relentlessly, taking advantage of her sagging defenses.

"You've given people little reason to like you. There is new wealth in town from our new Beysib residents, but the citizens still remember how hard money is to come by. You flaunt your wealth, deliberately inviting attack from those who are still desperate, then use your skills or your luck to kill them. Were one of them to succeed in slitting your throat some dark night, I doubt there would be much sympathy expressed anywhere. Most would feel that you deserved it, were asking for it in fact. I would hazard a further guess that there are even those who are secretly hoping it will happen, to teach an object lesson to Rankan nobles who underestimate the dangers in this town. Then, there is your sexual appetite. The tastes in this town are varied and often jaded, but even the lowest whore walking the streets near the Promise of Heaven can approach a man without grabbing his crotch in public."

"You're just saying that because I'm a woman," Chenaya protested. "Men do it-"

"That doesn't make it admirable," Jubal interrupted firmly. "You consistently take the worst models for your behavior. You've chosen to ignore the subtleties of femininity in favor of the blunt coarseness of men. What's more, you've tried to pattern yourself after the worst of men. I assume you've watched the gladiators when they're given women the night before they enter the arena. Remember that gladiators are viewed as animals by most, including themselves. What's more, they know there is a good chance they will not live through the next day, so they have little concern for thinking of the future or making a good impression on their partners. Then again, there's the minor detail that a gladiator's usually dealing with imprisoned whores or slaves. If he tried his pre-fight advances on a free woman in a tavern, I doubt he would find them acceptable to the lady or the other patrons. If you want someone to like you or admire you, you don't do it by embarrassing them in public... or in private, for that matter. Rape isn't admirable, no matter which sex perpetrates it."

"But Tempus is respected, and he's a known rapist."

"Tempus is respected as a soldier, in spite of... not because of his ways with women. I have yet to hear anyone, including his own men, describe his sexual habits as admirable. Remember what I was saying about paying a price for dealing with magic? If my information is correct, part of the cost Tempus pays for being 'favored of the gods' is only being able to take a woman by force. At least, that's the excuse he gives for his conduct. What excuse do you have for yours?"

Jubal had time as he spoke to reflect on the irony of him defending Tempus. "Forgive me if I seem to harp on my criticism of arrogance," he said, "but I firmly believe it's the most dangerous characteristic one can have in Sanctuary. You asked a moment ago of my experience with magic. Well, arrogance is something I am very experienced with; I've had to learn of its dangers the hard way."

Unbidden, images from the past rose up in his mind. Images that usually confined themselves to his dreams.

"Once, before your cousin came to town, I and my hirelings ran Sanctuary. The governor and the garrison were corrupt and ineffectual, and the power was there to be had by anyone strong enough to seize it and hold it. We were strong enough, but it led us, and me in particular, into believing that we were invincible. Consequently, we swaggered through the streets, flaunting and occasionally abusing our power, eager to have everyone acknowledge our strength. The result was that when Tempus arrived in town, we were the obvious targets, first for his individual attention, and then for the Stepsons when they joined him. My holdings were seized, my force scattered, and I was left with the wounds that cost me so much to have healed. All that from one man, the same one you are so willing to provoke with petty games."