'Hey, I'm telling it the way I see it.'

He nodded. 'Fair enough. But if you taught me, maybe I could be good enough to provide something of a challenge. I do have some skill, you see . . . though actually you never have, have you? Seen my sword skill.' He shrugged. 'So I believe you're making assumptions with no evidence to shore them up.'

'Stay out of this,' I suggested.

'Why? It's about me.'

'Because you've already proven you're unreliable,' I retorted.

'How has he proven that?' Del demanded.

'Hoolies, bascha, he got drunk while he was a prisoner!'

Del's disdain was manifest. 'That's your evidence?'

'I got drunk,' Nayyib said, 'because Umir felt I might know some things about you that he wanted to know. Something to do with a book. But I didn't know anything about any book, nor do I know anything about you—except what everyone in the South knows, and Umir already knows all that, too.'

'What does that have to do with you getting drunk?' I asked, failing to see any point.

'Because after it became evident that beating me wouldn't gain him his information, he tried another tactic. He had a supposedly sympathetic servant slip me a jug of—something. I don't know what it was, but it was certainly more powerful than anything I've tasted before. And while I lack your vast experience with liquor—you are old enough to be my father, after all, and thus you have the advantage of significant additional years—I have made the aquaintance of it in various forms.' He shrugged. 'It made me very, very drunk.'

Del was furious. 'Umir had you beaten?'

I was beginning to be intrigued in spite of myself. 'Did you tell him anything?'

'No, because you arrived before he could ask me anything. But it would have gained him nothing anyway. I don t know anything more about you, or whatever this book is.'

'The Book of Udre-Natha,' I said, 'is a grimoire. It contains all manner of Things Magical: spells, incantations, conjurations, recipes for summoning demons, notes made by men who studied it for years, and so on and so forth. Pretty much anything you want to know about magic is in that book.'

The kid had the grace to look stunned. 'And you gave it to him?'

'Gave it back to him,' I clarified, 'and yes, because it was the only way to get you free.'

Nayyib looked somewhat diminished, losing the cocky stance as he stared at me in surprise. 'You gave it to him for me?'

'I did.'

But confidence reasserted itself. 'Why didn't you just ride in there and take me ? Without the book. I mean, you are you. Umir couldn't have stopped you.'

'He might have.'

'Stopped the Sandtiger?'

'I'm eminently stoppable,' I told him. 'Permanently, even. What, did you think I was immortal?'

His chin rose and assumed a stubborn tilt. 'You've never yet been killed.'

'Well, no, since I wouldn't be standing here involved in this ludicrous conversation if I had been. But 'not yet' doesn't mean 'never.' '

Del said, 'Which is another reason Neesha should come with us. So 'not yet' doesn't become 'now.' '

I stared at her. 'You really want him to come along.'

'I've said that several times, I believe. Yes.'

'Fine.' I stalked past the kid. 'Get your sword.'

He turned. 'What?'

'Get your sword.' I bent and picked up my own. 'Let's see just what kind of skill you have that I haven't seen. And then maybe my assumptions will be proven by evidence.'

Nayyib was aghast. 'Now?'

I smiled. 'Why not?'

His mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. 'Because . . . now is not a good time.'

'You don't always get to choose your times, Nayyib-Neesha. Let that be your first lesson.' I indicated his bedroll and pouches. 'Your sword.'

'I can't,' he said faintly.

'I thought you wanted me to teach you.'

His color was fading. 'I do.'

'Well then?'

'Because now . . . because now—' He swallowed heavily, looking pained. '—I'm going to be sick.' He turned, staggered two steps, bent over—and promptly suited action to words.

'Gee,' I marveled, 'I've never had quite that effect on anyone before.'

Del scowled. 'Are you happy now?'

I grinned. 'Yep.' Particularly since it's hard for anyone, even a pretty kid like Nayyib, to look particularly attractive to a woman while he's bringing up the inside of his belly.

She picked up an empty bucket and slung it at me. 'Go fill this up. The horses need more water.'

I caught it, laughing, and took it and my sword with me to the spring, whistling all the way.

TWENTY-EIGHT

SOME WHILE LATER, Nayyib presented himself to me. He had washed, dusted himself off, neatened his hair. His eyes looked better, and his color was also improved. I had readied the stud and now occupied myself with splitting alia leaves and applying a new coating of oil, waiting for Del to finish tacking out and loading the gelding. It was taking a suspiciously long time, and when Nayyib stopped in front of me and drew himself up, I knew why.

I sighed and assumed a patient expression.

He didn't beat around the bush. 'I would like to come with you.'

I smoothed oil across the back of my neck. 'We've had this conversation before.'

'And you have never given me a definitive answer.'

'No isn't definitive?'

'You haven't said 'no.' You have made objections. There's a difference.'

Well, yes, there was. 'You're absolutely certain you want me to teach you to be a sword-dancer.'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

Something in his eyes flickered briefly. It was neither doubt that he could answer nor fear that he'd answer wrong. Maybe it was merely a question he'd never expected of me.

The stud nosed my shoulder. I patted his muzzle, then eased his head away. 'Well?'

'It's what I've wanted to be since I was very young.'

I wiped alia oil across my abdomen between harness straps and began working it in. 'Why?'

'My sister and I …' A quick smile curved his lips as he thought of her. 'We made swords out of sticks. Drew circles in the sand. Eventually my mother made her spend more time in the house, so I had to dance alone. But my sister knew, and I knew, that someday it would come to this.'

'What made you choose me?'

A muscle jumped in his jaw. 'I didn't, at first. There was a sword-dancer in the village, on his way to Iskandar. For the dances there two years ago.' His eyes flickered again. 'Do you recall?'

Did I recall? Oh, yes. With infinite clarity. Del did too; it was where she'd killed Ajani.

I tossed used leaves aside, worked at splitting a new one. 'So this sword-dancer rode through your village, and you asked him for lessons?'

'Yes.

'Did he give them to you?'

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