"Yes," stammered Husu, "improper doctrinal... yes."

"And, oh yes, mustn't forget-treason. There's a charge of treason, isn't there."

"This is absurd," said Chebeya. "You must know it is, Husu."

"If I were still in the king's council," said Husu, "then yes, I'd say so. But I'm in the civil guard now, and when I'm given a book of charges to deliver, then I deliver them." He handed the polished bark to Shedemei. "It's to be tried in Pabul's court in twenty-four days. I don't think you'll have any trouble finding lawyers who'll want to speak for you."

"Don't be silly, Husu," said Shedemei. "I'll speak for myself."

"That's not done by ladies," said Chebeya-and then laughed at her own words, realizing whom she was talking to. "I suppose that won't make any difference to you, Shedemei."

"See? Everyone has learned something today," said Shedemei, also laughing.

Husu was astonished at the lightness of their tone. "These are serious charges."

"Come now, Husu," said Shedemei. "You know as well as I do that these charges are deliberately stupid. Every single crime I'm charged with consists of something that Akmaro the high priest has been teaching people to do for thirteen years. Mixing poor with rich, mixing diggers with humans and angels, mixing former slaves with freeborn citizens, applying the honors of men to women, and denying the authority of the king's priests over doctrine-that is the substance of the treason charge, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There you are. These charges have been placed against me specifically because if I am put on trial, Akmaro's teachings will be on trial."

"But Pabul is not going to convict you of a crime because you're following the teachings of my husband," said Chebeya.

"Of course he's not. It doesn't matter what he does. The enemies of the Keeper don't care how the trial turns out. I don't matter to them. It may be the very fact that you came to visit me today that led them to decide to lay these charges. They probably expect me to call you as witnesses on my behalf. And if I don't, they'll call you as witnesses against me."

"I won't say a word against you," insisted Luet.

Shedemei touched her arm. "The act of calling you is what matters.

It ties Akmaro's family with the case. The more you defend Shedemei, the more credit the enemies of the Keeper will gain with the public. Or at least that part of the public that doesn't want to stop hating the diggers."

Husu was livid. "What is your source of information? How did you already know what the charges against you were?"

"I didn't know," said Shedemei. "But since I deliberately broke every one of those laws and made it clear to anyone who asked that I knew I was breaking them, I'm not at all surprised to find them on the book of charges."

"Did you want to be put on trial for your life?" asked Husu.

Shedemei smiled. "I assure you, Husu, no matter how things turn out, the one certainty is that I will not be dead."

Still confused, still angry, Husu and the two human guards left the house. "You do know the custom that you may not leave the city," Chebeya said.

"Oh, yes," said Shedemei. "I've already been advised of that."

"We've got to go home, Mother," Luet said. "We have to tell Father what's happened."

Mother turned to Shedemei. "This morning I didn't know you. Tonight I'm bound to you by cords of love as if I'd been your friend for years."

"We are bound together," said Shedemei, "because we both serve the Keeper."

Mother looked at her with a wry smile. "I would have thought so until the moment you said that, Shedemei. Because there was something about what you said that is ... not a lie ... but... ."

"Let's just say that my service to the Keeper hasn't always been voluntary," said Shedemei. "But it is now, and that's the truth."

Mother grinned. "You seem to know more than I do about what a raveler can see."

"Let's just say that you're not the first I've known." Then Shedemei laughed. "Not even the first named Chveya."

"Nobody can pronounce her name the old way like that," said Luet. "How do you do that?"

• "Humans can say it," said Shedemei. "Chvuh. Chveya. It's only angels that can't, and that's why the name was changed."

"It's silly, isn't it," said Luet. "The person I'm named for and the person Mother is named for were also mother and daughter, except the other way around."

"It's not a coincidence," said Mother. "After all, I'm the one who named you."

"I know that," said Luet.

"I thought the names were appropriate myself," said Shedemei. "As I said, I once had dear friends with those names. I knew them long ago and far away, and they're dead now."

"Where are you from?" Chebeya demanded. "Why have you come here?"

"I'm from a city that was destroyed," said Shedemei, "and I came here in search of the Keeper. I want to know who she is. And the closer I stay to you and your family, Chebeya, the better my chances of finding out."

"We don't know any more than you do," said Luet.

"Then perhaps we'll find out together," said Shedemei. "Now go home before the sky gets too dark. The evening rains are about to begin and you'll be soaked."

"Will you be all right?" asked Mother.

"You must believe me when I say that I am the only one who is perfectly safe." With that, Shedemei hustled them out the door. Impulsively Luet stopped at the last moment and kissed the schoolmaster on the cheek. Shedemei embraced her then and held her for a moment. "I lied," she whispered. "I didn't just come here for the Keeper. I also came here because I wanted a friend."

"I am your friend," said Luet. Later she would think of how passionately she said those words and wail to Edhadeya that she must have sounded like a schoolgirl. But at the time, looking into Shede-mei's eyes, they seemed the most natural words she could have said.

EIGHT - TRIALS

As soon as Didul reached the court, Pabul ushered him into his private chamber. "Did you see how many guards were stationed around the court?"

"I assume you've been getting death threats."

"I'm flattered by them-not a single bribe. They know I can't be bought. They're going to find out I can't be terrified."

"I can."

"You know what I mean," said Pabul. "I'm afraid, yes, of course, but my fear won't make me judge any differently than I would have."

"This trial is famous already," said Didul. "And it doesn't even begin till tomorrow."

Pabul sighed. "Everyone knows what's at stake. All the laws protecting the old order are being used to block the new. I have no idea what kind of defense Shedemei is planning, but I can't imagine what she'll say that can overbalance the plain truth that she's guilty."

"Guilty," said Didul. "Guilty of being a remarkable woman. Among the Kept in Bodika, she's already being touted as a martyr."

"I keep hoping that Motiak will take the matter out of my hands by simply announcing that the old laws are repealed."

"He won't," said Didul. "He's trying to stay above the whole thing."

"He knows he can't, Didul." Pabul fumbled through some of the barks lying on his table. "No matter what I decide, the loser will appeal."

"Even if you give Shedemei no penalty at all?"

"Have you met her?" asked Pabul sharply.

Didul laughed. "This morning, before coming here."

"Then you know she'll appeal even if I pay a fine to her. I think she's enjoying this."

"Poor Pabul."

Pabul grimaced. "We've dedicated our lives to being the opposite of Father. And now I have to sit in judgment on a follower of Binaro, just as Father sat in judgment on Binaro himself."