the Demon of the Dark Ones. Against him the might and speed of the war eagles were little more than a sparrow smashing senseless into a stone wall.
Rann chose not to tell the officer of the insignificance of the superiority to which she had alluded with such feral delight. He did not play his torment games with his own soldiers. Not now, not when so few remained. As spurious as it was, he would let her revel in the superiority of eagle over skyraft. All humans needed what comfort they could find now.
He sipped the ale. His cheek muscles contracted to give him a slight squint. 'The others remain to shadow the City?' he asked.
'Yes, lord. Four of us alternate resting on the ground and fol lowing the City. We've had luck in the form of clouds to hide in.' She shrank again from her own cup. 'But still, I think they know they're being watched.'
Rann nodded. That was one of the disadvantages of aerial observation. As a general rule, if you can see your foe, he could also see you. But this, too, meant little. Such was the strength of the reptilian Vridzish that they didn't care if they were spied upon or not. They now held the City – and had freed it from its once-set course over the center of the Sundered Realm. Using this immense aerial rock raft as their base, they could now travel at will and lay siege to even the most heavily defended cities.
'Well done, Sublieutenant Tanith. Go below and get some food and rest. You've earned them.'
She paused beneath the doorway arch and asked, 'Do we strike them tomorrow, lord? Or wait till they come to us?' In the dusk, her eyes shone with their own inner light.
'I shall take your suggestions under advisement, Sublieutenant. I assure you I'll undertake no weighty strategic decision without first consulting you.' Feeling the lash of his irony, the officer turned and fled.
He listened to her heels tack-hammering down the stairs. He had been harsh with her. That struck him as an ill omen. He usually controlled himself with far more precision. His skill in inflicting hurt led naturally to his knowing how not to inflict it, and when not to. This had been one of those occasions.
He shook his head and poured more ale. He was losing his grip in obvious ways. It was a new problem for him, more alien than the ways of the reptilian Zr'gsz. Though he knew how to manipulate that problem to maximize the despair and suffering of others, he didn't know how to cope when it came to haunt him.
Prince Rann knew fear. Great fear, overwhelming fear, for the first time in his life.
Her fear almost as tangible as the perfume of the two burly youths standing behind her, Governor Parel Tonsho fumbled at the door of her apartments, the brass key clicking against the lockplate as her fingers jumped and jittered. To cover fear and clumsiness alike, she cursed the smoky yellow glare of the oil lamps set in alcoves along the hall. If either of the youths realized that her difficulty had any cause but the dimness of the corridor, neither spoke the thought aloud. One did not maintain a much sought after position in the Governor's harem by being quick to find fault.
The key finally slid home with a thin screeching. Tumblers clicked and the door opened. She cast a quick look up and down the hallway before pushing into the darkened chamber beyond. Her pretty-boys were skilled with swords, but if the doom she'd feared so long had decided to overtake her now on the eve of battle, neither these two nor an army like them would help her in the least.
Then she was in the foyer, her heart hammering, as though she'd escaped a stalking, half-seen menace. A lamp flared in the room. With an odd relief she saw the small, neat figure sitting at ease in a fur-draped chair, hand raised to turn up the lamp even more. The long-awaited doom had come and, in coming, removed all fear of the waiting.
The door closed softly behind her. She sensed that neither of her kept youths had entered.
'I suppose,' she said bitterly, 'it would do me little good to call for help.'
Prince Rann smiled the lazy smile of a cat that has awakened to find a mouse creeping across an expanse of open floor. 'Does it surprise you that your playmates are in my employ?'
'No.' Her lumpy body sagged against a cool, plastered wall. Her pitbull eyes closed to weary slits. 'Not really.'
'Come in and sit down, milady Governor. Join me in a glass of this excellent Jorean Chablis. I find it vastly more palatable than that turpentine you Estil squeeze for yourselves.' He gestured at a square bottle cut from blue glass bearing the wax seal of a renowned Jorean vintner.
Knowing the hopelessness of her situation, she saw nothing else to do but comply. The soul of graciousness, Rann poured full the crystal cup he had set out on the stand at his elbow, rose, handed her the glass, then eased back into the chair.
The thick furs strewn across the floor clutched at her feet as she walked to the divan opposite Rann. Cushions sighed protest as she dropped listlessly, spilling drops of white wine down the front of her purple silk tunic.
Reflexively, she took the glass in both hands and gulped the wine, needing the warmth and reassurance of its alcohol more than the sweetish taste.
'You've done well for yourself under the aegis of the City in the Sky, Governor.' Rann's eyes, cat-yellow in the light, appraised her over the sparkling arc of his glass. 'You've already accumulated a Tolvirot banker's ransom worth of new furs and silken cushions to replace those spoiled during the late, uh, unpleasantness. And by the diligent scrubbings of your servants and application of incense, you've almost managed to eliminate the smell of the blood that was spattered so liberally throughout these quarters.'
At his words she twisted at her necklace of tiny seashells so violently that the strong silk thread snapped. The shells clattered to the floor in a pink and yellow rain.
'We have even provided you with a new seraglio to replace the one Colonel Enn found necessary to have shot down in this very room. And you still possess one of the finest cellars in all the Sundered Realm.' He hoisted his glass in salute, drained it, swirled the wine across his palate for a long moment before swallowing. 'No, all in all, the yoke of the City has lain lightly on your shoulders, Governor Tonsho. This you must admit. And in my turn, I admit that none other could have done as splendid a job administering the recovery of your city. You have amply earned both the rewards we your conquerors have lavished on you, and -' He leaned forward, eyes hardening, brightening. '- and the confidence we put in you.'
Knowing the hopelessness of her position, she dashed her glass into fragments on the marble floor at his feet.
'Enough of this fencing. You know what I've done, damn you. Isn't that why you're here?' Her puffy face twisted in a sneer. 'Since we're both admitting so much tonight, let's get it all out into plain sight.' He laughed.
'Ah, my good Governor. Of course I knew who employed those assassins in Bilsinx. Trying to assassinate me before we attacked Kara-Est was a clever move. Had I been in your position, I'd have done much the same myself.' He sipped wine. 'By the way, you'll be pleased to know that the young mage who saved me recovered not only from the trauma he suffered when the magical communications geode to which he was tuned shattered over the killer's head, but that he also escaped the massacre in the City.'
As he spoke, a spark appeared in Tonsho's almost colorless eyes. She ran her hand repeatedly through her frizzy, graying hair. Rann smiled. She was allowing herself to hope.
'Or do you refer to the team of assassins you sent off for to Tolviroth Acerte, when you'd learned I'd be coming to Kara-Est after we were forced from the City? I'm afraid they won't be carrying out their mission. We intercepted them at the dock.' He dropped a hand to his sword belt and toyed with something thrust between leather and tunic. 'You were better advised to go with Medurimin fighting masters, as you did the first time. The Brethren of Assassins are much overrated, I fear.'
Parel Tonsho hadn't risen to Chief of the Chamber of Deputies and de facto ruler of the richest seaport in the Realm by being slow witted. But it still took several seconds for the portent of Rann's statement to penetrate her numbed mind. She uttered a strangled sob and covered her face with chubby hands. He had learned all.
He sat quietly drinking as she wept. Soon, the ragged rhythm of her sobs faltered, broke. She raised a tear- wet face to his, jaw quivering with the effort it took to defy him.
'Did you bring that for me?' she asked, gesturing at the object he toyed with. 'Do you plan to tranquilize me, to make it easier to carry me to your torture chambers? Or does the tip carry some terrible poison that will give me a lingering, painful death?' He raised an eyebrow.
'This?' He took his hand away from the object. Briefly, Tonsho wondered that she hadn't remarked on it before. It was a hand dart used by the savage tribesfolk of the Thail Mountains, a bit over a handspan in length, carved from yellow wood, fletched at one end with yellow bird feathers. The tip was weighted with a ring of stone
