ANTICIPATING DISASTER

SHE HAD THE DISTINCT impression that she was gone for a long time.

A man bending over her: she remembered that. But who was he? Master Eremis? The idea gave her a liquid feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to be unconscious. If he were to touch her in any way, she didn't want to miss it.

Now, however, the figure with her was more like a woman. Gradually, she became aware that she wasn't lying on the floor in the dungeon. For one thing, she was warm, really warm- warm all the way down to her toes. There must be a bed under her; no stone was this soft. And blankets-

With an effort, she got her eyes open.

Over her hung the familiar peacock-feather canopy of her bed.

Saddith met her bleary gaze and called softly, 'Geraden. I think she is waking up.'

At once, Geraden came to her side. His face was stretched with fatigue and worry, and his expression was harried; but when he looked into her eyes he smiled as though she made everything in the world all right. Thank the stars,' he murmured in a husky voice. 'I'm glad to see you conscious again.'

She coughed at a throat full of gluey cotton. 'How long have I been out?' 'Long enough.'

Saddith gave a light laugh. 'My lady, the Apt is sotted with you. Every moment that your eyes are not open for him is 'long enough' to fill him with alarm. You have had a much-needed rest. When you have had food and'-she wrinkled her nose-'a bath, you will feel well enough to be amused by his concern.'

Terisa smelled the faint rotten scent. It seemed to be in her hair. And in- Her coat was draped over the back of another chair, but she was still wearing her clothes under the blankets. The smell was in her shirt and pants as well. When she lifted the covers, it wafted delicately into her face.

She pushed the blankets away and let Saddith and Geraden steady her in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. A bright fire crackled in her hearth, and the creature had burned- 'What happened?' she asked.

Geraden's smile twisted. 'Not much. You passed out. Adept Havelock left. The Castellan swore at everybody. One of the physicians and I brought you here. He said you were going to be all right, but I didn't believe him.' He looked away. 'Saddith has been telling me her life story to keep me from screaming while you slept.'

'Why did-?' Terisa ran her fingers into her hair, then grimaced at the odour which clung to them. She had to breathe deeply to make her head stop spinning. 'Why did Adept Havelock kill that poor-?'

At that, Geraden's expression turned harsh. 'He's crazy. Even if we knew why he does anything, it wouldn't make sense.'

'I can explain it,' said Saddith in a teasing tone. 'If the rumours are true, the Adept has not had a woman since he returned from Cadwal.' With her elbow, she nudged Geraden's ribs. 'All men become madmen if they do not bed women often enough.' For no very clear reason, Geraden appeared to be blushing. Terisa had to get the creature's immolation out of her mind. She had to get the stink out of her clothes and hair. Ignoring Saddith, she said to Geraden, 'I don't understand. Why didn't those Imagers who worked with Vagel translate the army he wanted? What research did they have to do?'

Promptly, as if he were relieved by her question, he answered, 'I don't have any way of knowing, of course-but I'm pretty sure I can guess. We've talked about language.' He watched Terisa's face intently. 'When the arch-Imager's cabal came up with an Image of what looked to them like the ideal warrior, they had no way of knowing whether they would be able to talk to him. They didn't believe the question of language would be

resolved by the translation itself, That's what they needed to research.'

He snorted a sour laugh. 'It's funny, in a way. Either High King Festten or the arch- Imager could have had an entire army of those creatures, if they just believed the same thing King Joyse believes. They might have been able to beat him.

'Now we'll never know the answer,' he concluded bitterly.

Terisa nodded, letting Geraden push back the memories from which she wanted to escape. For her part, however, Saddith didn't appear particularly pleased by this turn of the conversation. As soon as Geraden stopped, she said, 'My lady, I have no food or bathwater ready for you. I did not know when you would awaken. But both can be provided almost immediately. With your permission, I will go to bring what you need.'

Thanks.' As usual, Terisa's eyes were drawn to Saddith's open blouse and bursting breasts. She made an effort to raise her head so that she felt less like she was talking to Saddith's chest. 'I would like that.'

In response, Saddith swung a saucy gaze at Geraden. 'Be warned,' she said slyly. 'I will be back too soon for what you desire. Even the hottest youth must have a certain amount of time.'

Laughing, she left the rooms.

Experimentally, Terisa eased herself to her feet.

In a hurry to steady her, Geraden jerked forward. Unfortunately, he missed his balance and nearly fell onto the bed. Terisa found herself holding him up rather than being supported.

Swearing at himself, he pulled away. Apparently, he had lost his balance in more ways than one. Now he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Geraden? What's the matter? She wasn't sure of what she was seeing. Or she wasn't sure of herself. She wasn't in particularly good shape. In fact, she felt lousy. Where was the Geraden who always took care of her as if she were the most important person in his life?

Inanely, she said the first words she could think of that had nothing to do with what she felt. 'I thought I saw you blush. What were you and she really doing while I was asleep?'

He stiffened. Retreating to his chair allowed him to turn his face away from her for a

moment. When he sat down, his features were set into hard lines, as if he were angry. Nevertheless she knew he wasn't angry. His eyes were hot with grief.

'I don't understand that woman,' he muttered without meeting her gaze. 'I mean, I understand. I'm not as ignorant as she thinks. It just doesn't make sense to me.' He scowled at the vista of his confusion. 'While you were asleep, she wasn't telling me her life story. She was trying to persuade me to bed her right here on the floor.'

For some reason, Terisa didn't find this amusing. All at once, the muscles around her heart felt tight.

'She said she hadn't had a man for a while. She talked about it like it was just scratching a complicated kind of itch. Of course, there are probably two hundred men within a stone's throw of us right now who would be glad to oblige her. But she didn't want to do anything that might get back to the man she's really interested in. I got the impression he's been away. Whoever he is,' He sighed, but still couldn't bring himself to look at Terisa. 'She said I was safe because my heart was set on you, not her. And she would be doing me a favour by teaching me what to do with your body when I finally got my hands on it.

'I couldn't get it through her head that if she kept talking like that she was going to make me throw up.'

'Why?' Terisa tried to sound casual, but didn't succeed. 'Don't you think she's attractive?'

His gaze turned cold as he faced her. 'Sure, she's attractive. A stone wall would be attractive if it looked like that. It's her attitude I don't like. There's more to love than just getting your itches scratched.

Tell me something.' Now he was angry. 'Some time ago-I think it was the first morning of the thaw-I was here with you, and Saddith came in. You asked her how Master Eremis was.' The knot around Terisa's heart pulled tighter. 'At the time, I thought that was a strange question. I just didn't want to pry. But the more I think about it, the stranger it gets. Why ask her! What would she know about Master Eremis?'

Saddith had tried to seduce Geraden. Terisa sat back down on the bed to conceal the fact that she was trembling-and to control it. In a small voice-putting her emotions at a distance because she was afraid of them-she said, 'She's having an affair with him. She tells me about it.' She would never be able to admit that she had seen Master Eremis and Saddith together. 'I think she believes if she sleeps with enough men she'll end up queen of Mordant.'

After a moment, he murmured, That explains it.' He no longer sounded angry. He sounded frayed and alone.

Abruptly, he rose to his feet. 'I got a message earlier. Artagel has had a relapse. His physician says it's temporary. Hell be all right. But I ought to go see him. Saddith will be back soon. That may not cheer you up, but at least you'll get some food and a hot bath.'

Unable to keep his distress from showing, he turned to leave.

'Geraden, wait.' The sight of his departing back seemed to pull everything inside her in a different direction. She jumped upright, reached a hand he couldn't see towards him. 'Don't go.'

He paused in the doorway. His voice was cramped in his throat. His shoulders hunched as if he were huddling over a pain in his chest. 'I have to.'

'Please,' she said. 'I've been very selfish. You're always so good to me that I let myself forget you have problems of your own. Please tell me what's the matter.'

He didn't move. Slowly, he put out one hand to brace himself on the doorframe.

Terisa,' he said, aching, 'this mess really is my fault.'

'No, it isn't.' She was ready to defend him at once. 'You aren't Prince Kragen. You aren't Elega.'

He raised his free hand to his face. 'Nyle was right. I've been a fool about everything. He was doing what he thought was right. But he was also doing something that wouldn't do any serious damage if he turned out to be wrong. That's important. We didn't need to worry about him. He didn't pose any threat. You and I should have gone back to Orison so that Ribuld could stay with Argus. We should have told Castellan Lebbick about Elega right away.'

Slowly, his voice became edged with iron, like the hit of a chisel. He cut off words like chips of stone. 'You wouldn't be here if I hadn't gone wrong with that translation. The champion would be here instead. Or else he would have refused, in which case he wouldn't have been translated against his will. Orison's walls would be intact. And Myste would still be here. If anybody could stop Elega, she could.'

'Geraden.' Terisa went to him; tentatively, she rested her hands on his back. It felt like it had been bound with cords to keep him from exploding. The boyish side of him was dying. He was being taken apart piece by piece, deprived of the things he loved, the things that sustained him. 'Please, Geraden.'

She would have to tell him.

He had gone too far to stop. The Alend Monarch is going to take Orison. It's impossible-it ought to be impossible-but he's going to do it. And it's my fault. I was betrothed to that woman. Maybe we don't have much in common, but I thought I knew her better than this. First Nyle. Now her. Everything I love-'

His throat closed. She felt him struggle to open it. Then he said, 'Artagel is right. This is going to kill my father.'

She should have told him long ago. 'Geraden, don't do this to yourself.'

Without warning, he turned to face her. His cheeks were wet with tears, but he didn't look like he was weeping: he looked flagrantly unhappy, almost demented with contempt for himself and his mistakes.

'Artagel thinks it's my fault.' He spoke quietly-so quietly that he sounded unreachable. 'I expected that from Nyle. But Artagel thinks it's my fault, too.'

'Geraden.' She had passed the limit of what she could stand. To steady herself-because she was afraid-she took hold of the front of his shirt with both hands. 'You aren't wrong. I don't know why-or how. But you aren't wrong.

'Do you remember the augury? Do you remember seeing riders?' Three riders. Driving their mounts forward, straight out of the glass, driving hard, so that the strain in the shoulders of their horses was as plain as the hate in the keen edges of their upraised swords. 'I saw them-I dreamed them before I ever saw the augury. Before I ever met you. I had a dream that was exactly the same as one Image in the augury.'

Searching his face, she saw surprise and bafflement dawn into joy. 'So there is a reason,' he breathed in wonder. 'I didn't go wrong. You are the champion.'

'I don't know why,' she repeated, insisted. It was the only gift she had to give him, the only consolation. 'I don't know how. But there is a reason. You didn't go wrong.'

In response, he became brighter and brighter, as if he were burning. His arms closed around her; his mouth came down to hers.

Ardently, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. They hugged and held each other until Saddith returned with a tray of food and a porter carrying bathwater.

After a meal, they did what they could to get ready for the coming siege.

By noon the next day, Castellan Lebbick had deployed virtually all the King's guards in Orison, sorting them according to their responsibilities for the defence and maintenance of the castle, and billeting them wherever he could find room. When the barracks became over-crowded, some of the abandoned passages and quarters under the main habitation were brought back into use. Cooks complained about the extra work. Servingmen and -women whose jobs included sanitation complained vehemently. Nevertheless Orison swallowed the additional troops.

Work on the curtain wall across the breach continued.

At the same time, scouts crossed from the Demesne into the Care of Armigite. Although they would have been appalled to encounter the Alend Monarch's army so soon, they began to travel with more caution.

During the night, the men tracking Prince Kragen had returned. The Alend Contender had lost his pursuers in the simplest way possible-by riding onto a road, where his trail couldn't be distinguished from anyone else's. This report inspired the Castellan to curse extensively, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

Nothing was heard from the guards who were trying to find out where Geraden's alien attackers had come from.

Most of the farmers and merchants in the nearer environs of the castle had started to empty their sheds and warehouses and pens and barns towards Orison. Plenty of people still alive in the villages remembered what life had been like before King Joyse had taken power over Mordant and created peace by the strength of his good right hand. They goaded the folk around them into motion.

Grandmothers and flocks of goats didn't move quickly-but they were on their way.

As a result, the courtyard was crowded with activity, and an atmosphere of bustle pervaded the halls. The situation could easily have degenerated into chaos and choler. Castellan Lebbick knew his job, however-and his men knew their orders. Most of the incoming populace found places and got settled without noticing how closely they were supervised. And those who did notice probably didn't guess that the highest priority of the guards wasn't to preserve order, but rather to make sure that Alends or spies didn't sneak into Orison.

Satisfied with the progress of his preparations, Castellan Lebbick paid a visit to Master Barsonage.

The outcome of that visit was less satisfactory. Since the Masters had seen fit to interfere in Mordant's affairs by translating their champion, the Castellan argued that they couldn't now claim to be detached from what was happening. It was their responsibility, therefore, to assist in the defence of Orison and their King. That seemed clear enough.

But Master Barsonage replied with the almost-treasonous information that the Congery had disbanded itself. Paralysed by the very ideals which had brought them together, the Masters couldn't agree on anything. They had no credible purpose. Castellan Lebbick was free to approach individual Imagers as he saw fit-unlike Master Eremis, most of them had remained in Orison -but he couldn't look for concerted decision or action. King Joyse's abandonment of the Congery had finally arrived at its logical conclusion.

Fuming, Castellan Lebbick left.

For his part, the Tor spoke to King Joyse. Or, more precisely, he spoke at King Joyse. He wheedled and demanded: he whispered and shouted. He made himself lugubrious, and he tried sincerely to make himself noble. Unfortunately, he received nothing for his pains except a rather strained smile and the absent-minded assertion that the King was sure his old friend the Tor would do whatever he, the Tor, thought best. King Joyse himself was really too busy trying to solve the latest hop-board puzzle Adept Havelock had set for him to be distracted by a mere siege. Nevertheless he became irrationally angry when the Tor risked mentioning the lady Elega. The Tor eventually gave up and retreated to the solace of his chancellor's flagon.

As for Elega, two squads of guards had searched what they called twenty-five miles of hidden passages in Orison without finding her. The Castellan sent them back to the beginning to start over again.

Pacing the peacock rug in Terisa's sitting room, Geraden demanded, 'But what can she do?' Terisa had forgotten how many times he had asked the same question; but at least he had the decency not to expect an answer. 'I mean, stop and think about it. She has essentially promised that she'll deliver Orison to Prince Kragen single-handed. And she made him believe it. But he knows what a siege is. And he's seen Orison. What could she possibly have said to him that he would believe?'

Terisa sighed and gazed glumly out the window.

As he had promised, Mindlin brought her new clothes for a preliminary fitting. She made a few arbitrary decisions, accepted a few adjustments; he went away.

She returned to the window. Although she loved the spring-like sunshine which made the hillsides sparkle and the roads treacherous, she was hoping for snow.

In fact, most of Orison's burgeoning population was hoping for snow. But the next morning brought, not clouds and cold, but a warming trend. Apparently, the weather was on Alend's side.

Castellan Lebbick wasted no time cursing the weather, however. He had other things to swear about.

The influx of people and livestock and supplies into Orison was actually going quite well. Of course, life in the courtyard was little better than thinly structured chaos; and people who found themselves quartered in the once-unused depths of the castle had to contend with a damp which only grew worse as the walls were warmed by fires and bodies. But there was room for everybody somewhere. And the added livestock and supplies compensated for the increased number of people who had to be fed.

The causes of Castellan Lebbick's compressed fury lay elsewhere.

He had heard nothing from his scouts-but that was good news, not bad. On the other hand, he had also heard nothing from the men who were backtracking Geraden's attackers. As news, that was uncontestably bad. It left open the ominous possibility that an entire horde of creatures was gathering somewhere to sweep down on Orison at the worst possible moment.

Unfortunately, the Castellan also had other provocations. One was that the Tor refused to leave him alone. Having failed to dent King Joyse's detachment, the fat old lord now insisted on knowing everything about Orison's defences. He wasn't content with generalities: he wanted specifics-the names of officers who had been given certain orders; the quantity and disposition of certain stores; the important routes for moving men and weapons (and water-was the Castellan ready in case of fire?) through the castle. The lord's interference was enough to make a kind man savage.

As another provocation, King Joyse refused to take seriously Lebbick's report from Master Barsonage. 'Disbanded?' he snorted. 'Nonsense. Barsonage has just lost his nerve. Find Master Quillon.' The King hopped a piece on his board and studied the resulting position. Tell him he's the new mediator. I need those Imagers.'

Although Castellan Lebbick gnawed at an outrage that was starting to taste like despair, King Joyse refused to say anything further.

And the lady Elega appeared to have vanished without a trace. The guards not only failed to find her: they also failed to find any sign of her-any little stores of food and water; any clothes; any lamps or candles; any (the guards were thorough) carrier pigeons. All they found was Adept Havelock, who appeared at awkward intervals and treated them to displays of wisdom and decorum which would have embarrassed the ruffians at a carnival. The Adept seemed to be having the time of his life. Nevertheless Castellan Lebbick wasn't diverted.

Behind his anger, and his concentration on his duty, and his determined belief that no one woman could deliver him and Orison to the King's enemies, he was beginning to sweat.

'Do you think,' Geraden asked Terisa, 'it's something stupid and obvious, like suborning the guards? That might work if nobody suspected her. It's at least imaginable that she could arrange to have the gates opened in the middle of the night.'

He was calmer today, which relieved her sense of responsibility for him and freed her to feel worse herself. Perhaps his obsession was starting to soak into her, making her tense and irritable for no good reason. Or perhaps there was something-she ground her teeth at the idea. Something she knew and couldn't remember? Something she ought to understand? Damn it.

Scowling at the Apt as if he were to blame, she tried to make sense out of the little she knew.

Tell me something. Why haven't Alend or Cadwal-or both -attacked Mordant long before this?'

They were afraid of King Joyse. They were afraid of what he would do with the Congery.'

She nodded. 'And why is Margonal attacking now? Why isn't he still afraid?'

'Because he's heard'-this was painful for Geraden to say- 'from Prince Kragen and probably a few dozen other sources that King Joyse doesn't care any more.'

'No.' She felt that she was pouncing. 'That's not good enough. So what if the King doesn't care? Why isn't Margonal still afraid of the Congery? Why isn't he afraid the Masters will defend themselves no matter what King Joyse does?'

'Because they've disbanded.'

'He doesn't know that. She probably doesn't know it.'

At that, Geraden faced her with an awakening light in his eyes, as if she had suddenly become more beautiful or brilliant. 'In that case, she's promised to do something that will keep the Masters from fighting back.'

'Yes.' That made sense to her. For a moment, she felt vindicated, sharply triumphant. But she was misleading herself, of course. After scrutinizing what she had suggested,

he asked, 'What, exactly? What can she do? What power does she have over the Congery?'

Terisa had no idea.

This time, it was Geraden who stared morosely out the window. 'I told you an early thaw was dangerous,' he muttered for no particular reason.

The next day was overcast and gloomy, full of cold wind: it seemed to promise a return of winter. Castellan Lebbick kept an eye cocked at the sky while he fretted at the Tor's persistent attention and stewed over the fact that his scouts hadn't come back. Without realizing it, he fell into the pattern of announcing, when he had nothing more direct or withering to say, that he intended to have the Armigite charbroiled at his earliest convenience.

From a superficial point of view, Orison demanded a great deal of him. The castle was over-crowded-and over-crowding bred quarrels as well as vermin. People were angry because they had been forced to leave their homes. Some merchants were angry because everything they owned had been commandeered;

others were angry because almost no one could afford to pay the exorbitant prices dictated by scarcity. Guards were angry because they were being cooped up, or drilled too hard, or assigned to duties they didn't like. Lords and ladies were angry because anger was in the air. Everybody was angry because everybody was afraid. And fear made anger seem more urgent, righteous, and justified.

The truth was, however, that Castellan Lebbick now had the castle organized to function almost entirely without him. His men knew what to do; their officers knew what to do. Everybody was angry, but virtually no one got hurt. The Castellan really had nothing to do but fret and stew-and keep an eye on the weather.

That night, what was left of the squad backtracking Geraden's attackers rode into Orison: two battered veterans with wounds that still bled, kept open by hard riding. The squad had been ambushed by a number of the same creatures. And the ambush had taken

place not far south of the Broadwine-not far into the Care of Tor.

To commemorate the occasion, the Tor broached a new hogshead of wine. But Castellan Lebbick concentrated on snow. If the weather turned to snow, the men he had sent to the Perdon, the Fayle, even the Termigan might have time to get through.

In the morning, the weather turned to spring.

Sunlight poured through the windows, leaving a gold largesse on the stone floors and the thick rugs. A breeze like a harbinger of flowers wafted through the courtyard. A few patches of bare ground appeared on the hillsides, and some of the distant trees looked distinctly like they intended to bud. Unexpected flocks of birds swirled over the roofs of the castle, alighted in loud clusters on the tiles and gutters, and sang.

Shortly after noon, the Castellan's scouts returned to report that the Alend army was already in the Demesne. Barring a cataclysmic disaster or a miraculous reprieve, Orison would be under siege no later than noon the next day.

The scouts gauged that Margonal had ten thousand men-two thousand mounted, eight thousand on foot-and enough engines of war to take the castle apart stone from stone. As it happened, many of the engines were of Armigite design. Apparently, Prince Kragen's dealings with the Armigite hadn't been as simple as the story he had told Nyle.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only bad news.

Shortly before sunset, a trumpet announced the arrival of riders. Nearly a hundred soldiers came down the road from the Care of Perdon. They looked old and weary, as if they had been travelling for an indecent length of time. They carried the Perdon's banner and wore the Perdon's insignia, and they moved slowly. All of them were injured: limbs were missing; heads and chests bandaged; faces haggard. Many of their horses supported litters bearing dead men.

When he realized who the riders were, the trumpeter changed his note to the wail of a dirge.

'Oh, no,' Terisa groaned, watching from her window as the procession approached. 'He said he was going to do this.'

'Cadwal is marching,' muttered Geraden grimly. The Perdon isn't going to come to our rescue. He's already at war.'

Then he bit his lip. 'We have got to stop her. If she betrays us now, we don't have any hope.'

Castellan Lebbick and the Tor met the riders at the gate. The Tor made a short speech.

The Castellan didn't know how to express grief or compassion, so he remained silent.

To Orison's welcome and the Tor's speech, the captain of the riders replied only, 'We are dying. The Perdon commanded us to come.'

The sunset that evening was especially glorious.

Terisa pushed her supper away untasted. Geraden picked at a piece of bread, rolling bits of dough into pellets and tossing them at the hearth. The mood in the room was as dark as the night outside the window. Neither of them had spoken for a long time.

At last, he murmured, 'It isn't enough.' 'Hmm?' she asked vaguely.

For no special reason, they had both neglected to light the lamps. The only illumination came from the hearth. Flickering firelight cast streaks of orange and shadow across the Apt's face; bits of flame echoed in and out of his eyes.

'It isn't enough,' he repeated. 'Suppose Elega knows some way to neutralize the Masters. For example, suppose-just for the sake of supposing-that she has some kind of acid that eats glass. And she knows a way to sneak into the laborium where the mirrors are kept. And she knows where all the Masters keep all their 'private' mirrors. Suppose she has time to ruin every mirror in Orison. That's a lot-but it isn't enough.'

As he spoke, she was gradually struck by the impression that his face had changed. The firelight seemed to emphasize an alteration in the line of his jaw, the planes of his cheeks, the shape of his frown. The pressure of the past few days had ground the puppy out of him. He no longer looked like a man who tripped over his own feet and smiled lopsidedly at the results.

'It wouldn't defeat Orison,' he mused into the fire, talking mostly to himself, 'Castellan Lebbick wouldn't surrender for a reason like that. There has to be some other answer.'

Yes, she said inside herself. There has to be some other answer. But she wasn't agreeing with him. She was consciously and explicitly angry. She was angry at Artagel and Castellan Lebbick and Nyle. She was angry at King Joyse, who knew what he was doing to people who had spent their lives trusting him. She was angry at the Masters for their derision, their unwillingness to understand. She had liked Geraden's puppyish look. She had liked his ability to tumble all over himself without feeling that he was to blame

for the destruction of everything he loved.

Why are we responsible for Elega? Why is it our fault she's probably going to betray everybody?

A moment later, however, her memory brought another image back to her, as vivid as Geraden's face-an image of the lady Myste. Sitting in this same room, Myste had explained to Terisa why she wanted to go after the champion. I have always believed, she had said, that problems should be solved by those who see them. This is more true rather than less for a kings daughter.

Myste! Terisa murmured with a silent ache. What happened to you? Where are you? What is Elega doing?

Without thinking, she said aloud, 'Water.'

Geraden's face shifted through patches of light and darkness until he was looking at her. 'Water?'

'Where do we get water?'

His brows knotted in perplexity. 'I told you about that during our tour. Orison is built over a spring. But of course it's grown a lot. And we use a lot of water. I think I mentioned Castellan Lebbick has strong ideas about sanitation. The spring has been inadequate for a long time. So we store rainwater and melted snow. Gutters and pipes from all the roofs take water to the reservoir-I showed you the reservoir.'

'And now,' she said slowly while a keen pulse began to beat in her temple and a hand of tension closed around her heart, 'we have all these extra people. And we haven't had any more snow.'

That's one of the dangers of an early thaw.' He was watching her closely. 'Until the rains start, we won't have anything except the spring to keep us going.'

She took a deep breath and held it to prevent her head from spinning. When she was ready to speak steadily, she asked, 'What if something happens to the reservoir?'

He still didn't understand. ''Happens-'? What could happen?' 'Is it guarded?'

'No. Why should it be guarded?'

Unable to suppress the excitement or fear charging through her. she jumped to her feet. With both hands, she took him by one arm and pulled him upright.

'What if she poisons it?'

The idea hit him as if she had thrown open a window and shown him a completely alien world. His lips shaped the words, poisons it, while he scrambled to catch up with her. In a strangled tone, he argued, There's always the spring.'

'What difference does that make? Fresh water won't help. We'll all be poisoned. As long as nobody knows we're in danger, we'll all be poisoned. There won't be anybody left to fight. Even if we aren't killed-even if we're just sick for a few hours- Margonal will be able to take Orison almost without a struggle.'

That's right.' His face twisted as his thoughts raced. 'We've got to warn Castellan Lebbick,'

'Geraden.' For just a second, she wanted to yell at him. He was being so obtuse-

Almost at once, however, her mood changed, and she wanted to laugh. She wasn't used to being ahead of him. Carefully, she said, 'Don't you think it would be better if we stopped her?'

He stared at her momentarily with his mouth wide open. Then he let out a whoop that sounded like glee. The firelight was as bright as laughter in his eyes. 'Excuse me, my lady.' He hugged himself and chortled. 'I've got wax in my ears. I'm not sure I heard you right.' But joy and relief weren't the only emotions reflecting from his gaze. The flames were warm and glad-and they were also fierce, burning sharply. 'Did you say, 'Don't you think it would be better if we saved Orison all by ourselves?' Just you and me?'

She nodded.

'Why should we tell Lebbick? We're just guessing. He might not believe us. If he believes us, we might be wrong. But if we're right this is our chance to prove that you're innocent-that you aren't secretly plotting Orison's destruction.'

She nodded again, more because she liked the life in his face than because she had thought about what he was saying.

'Blast all glass to splinters!' He hissed the words between his teeth, grinning like Artagel. 'Get your coat. It's going to be cold up there.'

Terisa got her coat.

It was cold up there.

The reservoir had been built in the highest part of Orison's main body-a labour of construction which was justified by the amount of work saved by being able to distribute water around the castle with gravity instead of pumps. The towers, of course, required pumps; and the waters of the spring had to be pumped up to the reservoir. But those were relatively simple jobs compared to the chore of supplying water for all of Orison.

Terisa had to fill in many of the details from memory. The place was dark: the only light came from the screened openings which let rain and snow and the night air into the reservoir while keeping birds out, and the bright moon outside did little more than glint vague silver across the surface of the water. But she remembered that the reservoir had been built like a pool, deep and rectangular, with a smooth stone walk on all four sides.

Around the walk rose heavy timbers, crisscrossing towards the roof to hold up the network of pipes that carried rainfall and melted snow and even dew from all the roofs of Orison-and to support also the scaffolding which made possible the cleaning and repair of the screens. Because of these timbers, the reservoir resembled a cathedral. Against the faint, wet, lapping susurrus, the overarching silence felt like awe. In the darkness, the water looked vast.

It seemed to absorb whatever warmth endured after the onset of night. The reservoir was cold enough to make her chill despite her coat.

'We need a light,' she whispered unsteadily.

'Shell see us,' answered Geraden, putting his mouth close to her ear so that he wouldn't be overheard.

Terisa nodded. She had hoped that she would never have to be cold again in her life. 'Where can we hide?'

For a moment, he didn't move. 'How long do you think we'll have to wait?' 'How should I know? I'm just guessing about all of this.'

'Well, guess some more.'

She made an effort to control her shivers. 'All right. Whatever she puts in the water will need time to dissolve-or spread out -or whatever it does. But if she does it too soon,

people will start getting sick'-or dying-'too soon. The Castellan or somebody might have time to figure out what's going on. Before Margonal is ready.

'If I were her, I might wait until the siege starts.' No later than noon the next day. 'We might be stuck here all night.'

'No.' Geraden was thinking too hard to be polite. 'If she does that, practically all our forces will already be on duty. She'll get the farmers and servingwomen and cooks, but that will just warn Lebbick. She needs to strike tonight, so the water will be bad when the guards get out of bed tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning early.'

That made sense. 'Where can we hide?' she repeated.

He took her by the arm and pulled her softly into motion. There may be any number of ways in here. The floor is riddled with pipes. Maybe it's riddled with passages too. But we can't do anything about that. And there really isn't any place to hide. We'll just put ourselves where we can watch the entrances-the way we came in, and the other one'-he pointed across the reservoir-'and hope we get lucky.'

'That should be fun,' she retorted simply because she needed to say something. 'We're famous for our good luck.'

He let out a breath of stifled laughter. 'Very true.' Muffled though it was, his laugh made her feel better.

She wanted to test her way with her feet to be sure she didn't fall into the pool, but he urged her forward as if he were afraid of nothing. He didn't lead her into the water, however. Instead, he guided her to a place where a pair of timbers met the floor close together. They were located roughly midway between the entrances to the reservoir, and the gap between them was just wide enough for two people. In this dark, she and Geraden would be effectively invisible as long as they stood near the timbers.

Side by side in the gap, they were pressed against each other a bit at the shoulder and hip. Initially, she tried to squeeze away from him, so that he wouldn't feel her shivering. But she would be warmer if they were closer together. She would be warmer still if he put his arm around her. After a moment, she found that she didn't mind letting him know how cold she was.

Turning his head, he breathed her name into her hair and gave her a companionable hug. Almost at once, the pressure that made her shiver seemed to grow less.

She quickly got tired of straining her eyes into the deep dark of the pool, of trying to

tell the difference between the light lap-and-slap of water and the possible sound of footsteps. Shifting more towards Geraden so that she fitted better against his side, she whispered, 'What're we going to do when she comes?'

'Stop her.'

She poked at his ribs through his coat. 'I know that, idiot. How are we going to stop her?'

'Not so loud,' he cautioned. 'Water carries sound.'

She wished that she could see his face. He sounded tense and far away, caught up in his responsibility for what happened to Orison. Stopping Elega was like stopping Nyle for him: she was his King's daughter, a childhood friend, andhis former betrothed. Precisely because the situation was so painful for him, he couldn't afford to fail.

Almost in spite of herself, Terisa understood his allegiance to King Joyse and Mordant.

'She'll have a light,' he went on softly. 'She doesn't expect to be caught. And she needs to see what she's doing.' Like his attention, his voice seemed to be aimed out into the dark. 'When we see her light we'll try to sneak up on her.'

Terisa nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. Her head nestled against his shoulder, his coat warmed her cheek. Was it really better for him to remain loyal to the people and ideas he loved? Was that preferable to facing the truth when those people and ideas failed him? preferable to doing what Nyle and Elega were doing-what Master Eremis had been trying to do all along? How are you planning to live the rest of your life without loyalty or self-respect? Of course it was always better to face the truth. Wasn't it? Nyle and Elega and Master Eremis had all faced the truth. But she couldn't shake the odd feeling that what Geraden was trying to do was harder.

For that reason, it was a good thing he hadn't been able to return her to her old life. Maybe the sense of unreality which had dogged her for so long was the result of living in the wrong world: maybe she truly had never been a solid being until she came here. Or maybe her evanescence was the result of striving for the wrong things-despite what Rev Thatcher might have taught her-of not understanding what Geraden understood so well. It was even possible-

Across the water, she saw a wink of light. Geraden stiffened.

It was no larger or brighter than a candleflame-it flickered like a candleflame. But it flickered because it was moving, passing behind the timbers on the opposite side of the pool. When it stopped, she saw that it was a small lantern.

The hand that carried it set it down on the flat stone near the lip of the pool. The light shone on a woman's features. She seemed to be cloaked in midnight: nothing of her was visible except her hands and face.

Elega.

She scanned the reservoir for a moment, and Terisa cowered; but the lady's lamp was too weak to reach so far. Almost at once, Elega withdrew into the darkness.

Geraden drew a hissing breath. 'Now.' He shrugged himself out from the timbers. With his mouth at Terisa's ear, he whispered, 'You go that way.' He gave her a slight nudge in the direction he meant. 'When you get close enough, distract her. I'll come up behind her.

'Go.'

She felt rather than saw him fade into the dark.

Go. Yes, Good idea. But how? One mis-step would take her into the pool. Dragged down by her coat, she would drown. She would never learn whether she was right about Elega.

Cautiously, she turned and put one hand on the nearest timber.

The timbers were all the same distance from the edge of the pool. If she felt her way along them, she would be safe. And she had another sign to navigate with: the reflection of the lamp in the water. That gleam was tiny, but it helped her keep her bearings.

Hoping that the pool's wet noises would cover the sound of her steps, she concentrated all her attention on the timbers and the reflection and started moving.

Elega was still nowhere to be seen. Geraden had disappeared completely.

More quickly than she would have believed possible, Terisa reached the corner of the pool. This side: another corner: a straight walk to the lamp. She was cold, but she had no time for that. She wasn't conscious of shivering.

Elega returned to the light.

Instinctively, Terisa froze.

The lady brought with her a sack about the size of a large purse. She supported it with both hands as though it were heavy. In contrast, however, her walk and posture didn't betray much strain. Apparently, she feared that the material of the sack might tear, spilling its contents. Her care was obvious as she put the sack down beside the lamp.,

I'm going to be too late. With an effort of will, Terisa forced herself into motion again.

But she wasn't too late. Instead of opening the sack, Elega retreated once again into the dark.

This side: another corner. How long would Elega be gone? How far did the light reach?

Where was Geraden?

The lamp made everything behind it blank, impenetrable.

She felt that she was breathing louder than the sound of the water; the effort of muffling her respiration made her want to gasp. Now she didn't need to guide herself by the timbers: the lamp showed her the rim of the pool. But she had to be quiet, quiet. No sound from her boots on the stone; none from her heart; none from the tense fear that constricted her chest.

How long would Elega be gone?

Not long enough. While Terisa was still too far away, the lady re-entered the reach of her light.

She was carrying a second sack. It was just like the first one. She cradled it with both hands,

Terisa wanted to freeze again. Instead, she began to run.

At the noise of Terisa's boots, Elega whirled. The cowl of a cape flipped back from her head, and her eyes seemed to gather up all the light, flaring like violet gems. Her face was whetted and intense.

Terisa, stop!'

Terisa jerked to a halt.

'Come no closer!' the lady warned. 'You cannot prevent me from flinging my sack into the water. That is not the best way to distribute the powder-but it will suffice.' In this light, with such extremity in her eyes, her beauty was astonishing. She looked as certain as a queen. 'And one sack will suffice, though I have brought two for safety. Do not interfere with me.'

'Elega-' Terisa had to gasp hard to clear her throat, unlock her chest. 'Don't do this. It's crazy. You're-'

'Who is with you?' demanded Elega.

'You're going to kill thousands of people. Some of them are your friends. A lot of them know and respect you.'

'Terisa! Who is with you? Answer me!'

'You're going to kill your father.'

Deliberately, Elega adjusted her grip on her sack and started to swing it towards the water. The sack appeared to be made of some unusually supple leather.

Geraden hadn't come. There was nothing beyond the lamp except the dimly silvered night of the reservoir. 'I'm alone!' Terisa cried urgently.

The lady checked her swing. 'There's nobody with me. I'm alone.'

Elega's eyes burned. 'How can I believe that?'

Helpless to do anything else, Terisa replied bitterly, 'No one trusts me. Who would believe me if I told them you were going to do this?'

'Geraden trusts you. Together, you persuaded the Tor to be suspicious of me.'

'I know,' Terisa shot back in desperation. 'But you made him back down.' Where was Geraden? 'And Geraden cant believe anything like this about you. You're the King's daughter.'

For a moment, Elega studied Terisa. Slowly, she straightened her back; she faced Terisa regally. She didn't put down her sack, however.

'If no one else would believe this, why do you? How do you come to be here?'

Terisa met the lady's scrutiny as well as she could and struggled to hold down her panic. 'I guessed. We talked about the water supply, I think I suggested it.' Her self- control was fraying. In another minute, she would begin to babble. 'Elega, why! This is your home. You're the King's daughter. You're going to kill-'

'I am going to kill,' cut in Elega impatiently, 'a few of Orison's oldest and most infirm inhabitants. That is regrettable. Perhaps my father will be one of them.' She grimaced. 'Even that is regrettable. But no one else who drinks this tainted water will die. They will simply be too sick to fight.

'Orison will fall with little loss of life.' Her voice rose. 'At small cost to the realm, my father will be deposed, and a new power will take his place. Then Mordant will be defended'-she had to shout in order to hold back an uprush of passion- 'defended against Cadwal and Imagery, and the dreams with which King Joyse reared his daughters will be restored!' Her cry was strong-yet it echoed like mourning in the high silence of the reservoir. To accomplish that, I am willing to cause a few deaths.'

She might have continued: the force of what she felt might have impelled her to say more. But she didn't get the chance. All the illumination behind her condensed at once, transforming Geraden instantly out of the dark; and he charged wildly.

In fact, he charged so wildly that he caught his foot on the butt of one of the timbers.

The sound alerted Elega. As quick as a bird, she leaped aside while he crashed to the stone on the spot where she had been standing.

'Geraden!'

The impact seemed to stun him: he looked hurt. Although he bounded up almost instantly to his hands and knees, into a poised crouch, his balance shifted as if the flat stone under him were moving, and his head wobbled on his neck.

Nevertheless he was between Elega and the water.

Terisa hurried to his side. She wanted to help him up, find out how badly he was hurt.

Nevertheless she couldn't take her eyes off the lady.

The two women studied each other across a space of no more than ten feet, Elega's face was dark around the violet smoulder of her eyes; she clutched her sack with both hands. Despite the fear pounding in her head, Terisa braced herself to block Elega's approach to the pool.

The corners of the lady's mouth hinted at a smile. In a formal tone, as if she wanted the reservoir to hear her, she said, 'My lady Terisa. I am sorry that I did not persuade you to join me. I believed you when you said you were alone. Clearly, you are a better player of this game than I realized.'

Nothing about her gave the impression that she was caught or beaten. Geraden, get up!

Abruptly, he wrenched himself to his feet-stumbled sideways, then recovered. His gaze appeared oddly out of focus, as if his eyes were aimed in slightly different directions. Breathing heavily, he bent over and braced his hands on his knees to support the weight of his sore head.

'Blast you, Elega,' he panted, 'don't you know we caught Nyle? Castellan Lebbick has him, I don't expect you to care what happens to anybody as minor as a son of the Domne, but you ought to care about the fact that he didn't get through to the Perdon.

'You made a nice speech about defending the realm and restoring dreams. But you can't pretend that any more. You aren't doing this for Mordant. You're doing it for Alend.'

The lady's eyes flared.

'Or you're doing it for Prince Kragen-which comes to the same thing. When you're done, we'll all be ruled by the Alend Monarch. Then it won't be you who decides what happens to your dreams. It won't even be your personal Prince. It'll be Margonal. Once Orison falls, you won't be anybody except the oldest daughter of the Alend Monarch's worst enemy.

'Give it up before you get hurt.'

As if she were in pain, Elega lowered her gaze. 'Perhaps you are right,' she murmured. 'You have caught me. I was a fool to believe the word of an Alend.' Her grip on the sack shifted.

Terisa shouted a warning-too late, as usual-as the lady flung her sack over Geraden's head towards the pool.

At the edge of the light, it arched towards the still, dark water. Geraden leaped for it.

So did Terisa.

Before they collided with each other, his reaching fingers hooked the soft leather and deflected it.

They fell on top of each other. His arms and legs were all around her: she couldn't sort her way out of them.

After an interminable instant, she found herself on the floor while he scrambled to regain his feet. She was gazing straight along the smooth stone at the sack. It had landed right at the rim of the pool-so close that she could have put her hand on it.

But it had split open when it hit. A strange green powder was already pouring into the water. As she watched, the sack slumped empty.

Then the light went out.

A heavy splash cast sibilant applause around the reservoir as the other sack sank into the pool.

Across the dark, Elega said, 'Prince Kragen is a truer man than you are, Geraden fumble-foot. He will not be false to me.'

Small waves continued to slap and echo against the sides of the pool long after the King's daughter was gone.