Renfrew turned. "Tell me, boy. Is this the man you knew as Captain Else Tage of the Sha-lug?"

"He looks a little like Tage. But with an awful lot of wear and age on him. If he is, I don't how you'd prove it. Anyway, I think he's too tall."

Amusing. Osa was giving Renfrew nothing.

Ferris Renfrew stared at Osa Stile for half a minute. The boy did not flinch. He was Sha-lug on the inside.

Renfrew rose and patrolled the circumference of the room, as though hunting the little night things rumored to be used as spies by sorcerers and such. He completed two full, careful circuits before he resumed his seat.

"All right. We'll do it your way. You'll be Else Tage, Dreangerean spy, for me, because that'll help get you out of confinement."

Else sat quietly. He waited.

"But from now on you're going to be an agent of the Grail Empire, too. It shouldn't be long before the Emperor releases Principatй Doneto. It looks like the Patriarch will give up trying to wait us out. Things aren't going well for him. He needs Doneto's support in the Collegium.

"I understand that the Principatй plans to keep all of you as part of his lifeguard. With you near him the Emperor could have someone close to one of the men closest to the Patriarch."

Else said nothing.

"Well?"

"And if I decline?”

"Then you'll never leave the Dimmel Palace. You'll never do your Dreangerean masters a lick of good."

Else grunted, unsurprised.

"So you won't forget us as soon as you get out of here, we'll have you sign a contract. We'll give it to the Principatй if you fail us."

Else grunted again. "Tell me about the pay. I won't do it just because you twist my arm."

"You want to get out of here?"

"I told you I'd be your foreigner so I can get out. Once I'm out, I need to make a living."

"The Principatй will be …"

"He'll pay me for working for him. There has to be balance. The workman must be given his due." Was he being too clever? Although common to most religions, that notion was a pronounced favorite of the Maysalean Heresy.

Osa Stile said, "Don't be such a damned skinflint, Renfrow. It isn't your money."

They argued. Was that for show? Was Osa Stile diverting Renfrew from thoughts of Dreanger, Gordimer, and the Sha-lug?

Had he been able, Else would have slipped away. He muttered, "Being a prisoner does limit one's choices."

Ferris Renfrow turned to Else. "Tage. I'm finished with you. For now. You know where we stand. I'll see you again. Be prepared to sign on with the Grail Emperor. You'll be paid well." Renfrow rang a bell.

ELSE MADE SURE NO ONE COULD EAVESDROP. HE TOLD PRINCIpatй Doneto, "They're trying to force me to spy for them against you and the Church."

“Tell me."

Else left out little but Renfrew's insistence that he be Else Tage.

"Here's what we'll do. You go ahead and agree. I'll get you a job outside my own household. Cooperate. Build their trust. And someday we'll use that."

"Of course." That was his own plan. Better to let Doneto verbalize it, though. Part of that development of trust thing.

Doneto said, "Go tell tales. I'm sure the others have had offers from that devil Renfrow, too. And service to the Emperor would be attractive to a certain sort."

"Renfrow?" Else asked.

"Ferris Renfrow is the man trying to enlist you. He's one of Johannes's favorites. Baseborn but one of the most powerful men in the Grail Empire despite that."

Else joined Pinkus Ghort, Just Plain Joe, and Bo Biogna. They were working on a cheese and a salami and did not have much mouth to spare. Biogna did ask, "You feeling better now, Piper?”

"Some. I don't think they drugged me this time. I'm hungry. Give me some of that cheese." In the nature of things, the salami would be mostly pork. "And give me one of those sausages you're trying to hide, Pinkus." That would be pork, too. But it would be juicy and tasty and about the only thing he would miss when this captivity came to an end.

Scowling, Ghort asked, "What was all that with the Principatй?"

"I was holding him up. The Imperials want to recruit me for a campaign to establish the Emperor's rights in cities that are supposed to belong to him. Bo. Joe. Did you guys tell them something to make me look good? They seem to think they can trust me with my own battalion."

"Shit." Ghort did not sound happy. "And I was thinking about giving you another sausage."

"What?"

"I'm jealous. They didn't offer me nothing that good. And I did every bit as good a job as you did.”

"Better. I've only got three of my guys still in one piece. And the only one of them worth two dead flies is a mule."

"But a real special mule," Bo Biogna said.

"Hey!" Joe growled. "Don't go making fun."

Ghort said, "Calm down, Joe. We all know that Pig Iron is the best man."

Else asked, "So what did they want from you, Pinkus?" He wondered if Ghort would tell the same story twice.

"Mainly, to stick with the Principatй and report back what the Church is up to. Same thing they probably asked everybody to do."

"They didn't ask me," Joe said. "They never asked me much of anything, neither time."

"Me, neither," Biogna grumbled. "Story of my life. I'd a done it. Double pay. An' I got no use for neither side, so let me get fuckin' rich sellin' them both out to each other."

Else told him, “They probably realized that, Bo. You were probably too eager."

"Yeah. I ain't so bright sometimes."

During the day all of the captives enjoyed a few minutes with the inquisitors. Six of the first twelve men to go did not return. Imperial people came for their possessions. As always, those refused to talk.

"Something's going on," Ghort declared, compelled to state the obvious.

Else grunted. "And they haven't pulled in you, me, Bo, Joe, or the Principatй yet."

"Don't forget Pig Iron."

"I haven't. But they have. You notice, they never question him."

"We ought to complain."

"You go first."

Just Plain Joe was the next soldier taken. He wad back ten minutes later, grinning from ear to ear. "I done it, Pipe. I guv 'em nine kinds a hell on account of they don't respect Pig Iron the way they do the rest of the troops."

"Good for you, Joe," Ghort said. "I'm gonna do that myself. Pipe, I figure we're about to get out of here. That's the only way all this makes sense. The guys not coming back are the ones going over to Johannes."

Only Bronte Doneto himself remained to be called again when Else was taken for the last time.

ELSE TWITCHED AND SHRUGGED, UNCOMFORTABLE AND ITCHY in badly fitted formal clothing. He wore it in order to escort Bronte Doneto to an audience with the Grail Emperor.

Pinkus Ghort kept reminding him, "I told you so."

Principate Doneto was not pleased. Ghort and Else were his only supporting cast. He felt he deserved an entourage. He was a Prince of the Church. He was a cousin of the Patriarch. He had Patriarchs among his ancestors, despite Church policies concerning clerical celibacy.

"We should've brought Pig Iron," Ghort said. "We could've dressed him as ugly as us, no problem."

Else scratched and fidgeted. "Pig Iron would've been more comfortable than I am. And wouldn't feel half as ridiculous."

Doneto grinned, but that flash of polished teeth vanished immediately. The Prince of the Church took over. The Principatй scowled, impatient with this familiar humor.

The Counts of Plemenza had been wealthy. Recollections of that wealth remained, though the Truncella themselves were out of the Dimmel Palace and lived on only in circumstances so reduced that they could afford staffs of fewer than forty servants.

The antechamber where the three waited boasted silk-upholstered furniture, oil portraits of past Truncella greats, busts that appeared to have survived from antiquity, and a tapestry from the last century portraying a confrontation between Chaldarean crusaders and Praman warriors.