"I do not understand," she said.

"We are on the cityside of the citadel, are we not?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. Even had we been brought to the cell blindfolded, there would have been no difficulty in making this determination. It was clear in the patterns of sunlight in the cell, that the cell faced south, the city. Too, even more obviously, we could hear the sounds of the city, and not of the harbor. Indeed, of late, we had even heard the sounds of collapsed buildings, some of them perhaps within a hundred yards of us.

"That is it," I said.

"I do not understand," she said.

"It is possible that you will soon be in greater danger from Cosians than from your compatriots of Ar's Station."

"You're joking," she said.

"That is why they will not be waiting until noon."

"I do not understand," she said.

"I do not even know if the citadel can stand until noon."

"That is absurd," she said. "It is impregnable."

"No," I said. "The defenders are worn and half starved. The buildings about the citadel have been brought down. The engines can fire at almost point-blank range. All the might of Cos in the north will be focused on this one small point, the citadel."

"What will happen?" she asked.

"The women and children will already have been moved to the harbor side of the citadel," I said.

"What will happen!" she cried.

"The citadel will be taken," I said. "Cosians will enter, with fire and wood. The noncombatants, the able-bodied men, the soldiers, the garrison, what's left of it, will then be forced to withdraw to the wharves and piers. Then they will be driven from them. I fear there will be great slaughter in and about the harbor. Perhaps few will escape."

"Surely terms will be sought," she said.

"The Cosians have waited long for Ar's Station," I said. "Doubtless they never guessed for resistance they would meet. They have lost many men. Their patience is at an end."

"It is my fault," she said. "Better that I had been what I rightfully should have been, a slave girl."

"It is not your fault," I said. "I doubt that your pittance of treachery made any difference whatsoever. It is the fault of Ar."

"But I am guilty," she said.

"Yes," I said, "and for your crime perhaps a reduction to bondage would be fitting. Too, given what you are, I think that such a fate would be quite appropriate for you."

"It is true," she whispered, "Master." I then turned my attention to the pan of food. "There is much food here," I said, "and meat. I doubt that even those at the central crenels, those on the towers, those defending the gate itself, feed as well this morning." "But you are only putting it to your lips," she said.

"I am tasting it," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"It seems good," I said.

"What is your concern?" she asked.

"It is nothing," I said.

"What?" she asked.

"I thought they might have entered something into the food," I said, "in kindness, a painkiller, something with an analgesic effect, to ease your pain." "If they have," she said, "I would appreciate a little food."

"But they have not," I said. "Apparently it is true, as our charming warder told you, that they want you to squirm well on the spear."

She shuddered.

"They see no reason in encouraging espionage," I said.

"No," she whispered.

I then fed lustily. Strength flooded into my body. I had not eaten so well for days. Too, I had the girl, in effect, my girl, bring me water."

"That was good," I said.

"How is it that you can eat at a time like this?" she asked.

"You must keep up your hope," I said.

"I am a naked female," she said. "Men can do with me what they want." "True," I said, "but it may not be the case that every man wants to do exactly the same thing to you at exactly the same time."

"I suppose not," she said.

"And therein lies your hope," I said.

"What hope have I," she asked, "other than they might put me on the spear a little later, rather than a little sooner?"

"I think you have more than you know," I said.

"How?" she asked.

"You have unexpected allies," I said.

"Who?" she asked. "Outside," I said, "Cosians."

"How can they help?" she asked.

"Perhaps they can't," I said. "It is only a possibility."

"I think it is near dawn now," she whispered. There seemed a narrow fringe of lightness in the darkness, at the edge of the high window. We looked up at it. We could not reach the window, even if she were to stand on my shoulders. "I think you are right," I said.

"Oh!" she cried, startled, and threw herself into my arms. She looked up at me, wildly, frightened.

"It is the trumpets," I said. "They signal the attack."

There were answering trumpets from the walls.

There had been a great, ringing blare of trumpets from outside, perhaps hundreds of them. The response from the wall, in comparison, brace though it might have been, had seemed frail, indeed. When the trumpets had rung out there had been, too, from before the citadel, raised the war cries of thousands of men. These cried, too, had been answered by a ragged cheer from the walls. She looked up at me, half kneeling, half lying in my arms, in the darkness of the cell. A naked woman feels good in one's arms. I wished I owned her. They feel even better when you own them, and they know you own them.

We then heard a dull impact, from a distance.

"What is that?" she asked, alarmed.

There were then two more sounds, much like the first.

"Come here," I said, and pulled her, on her side to the outside wall, and lay in the straw on the floor there. It is safer there, where the floor, like a buttress, reinforces the wall. You are safer there, too, from showering stone, bursting inward.

"It is the artillery," she said.

"Yes," I said.

We could hear, too, from time to time, the sound of the kick and rattle, and vibration of cordage, of a catapult above us, on the walls. They are often roped down. Otherwise they can radically change their position, spinning half about, or even, literally, flinging themselves back off the walkway. They are easier to manage on softer surfaces, where the wheels can be dug in.

"You are covering my body with your own," she said. "Be quiet," I whispered to her.

"You are protecting me," she said. "You are sheltering me. You are a true gentleman! You pretend not to be, but you are a true gentleman! Oh! No! What are you doing? I am on my belly! Only a slave is had in this position! No! Oh! Oh!" "Do you think I am a gentleman?" I inquired.

"No," she said.

"What am I then?" I asked.

"My master," she said.

"But you are a free woman," I reminded her.

"Yes," she wept. "I am a free woman."

I continued then, for a time, to shelter her body. I was please that I was now more relaxed. I had enjoyed myself, but, too, my use of her, and as one might make use of a slave for such a purpose, had been a calculated one, to combat the waiting, the fear, the worry, the anticipation, the expectation, spread over Ahn. That sort of thing can gnaw at you. There is an optimum point for readiness and action. It was at that point that I wished to be when the door opened. We heard, more and more frequently, the impact of stones about us. Two assaults were forced back from the walls. When it grew lighter, and I feared they might soon come for her. I left her at the outside wall, and went to my former place in the straw, and lay there. The food pan I put back, a few feet before the door, where it could be seen through the observation panel. Its contents were now gone. I myself lay in the straw, perhaps too weak to move.