The aide said the Konyan wizards had determined that The Sarzana and his allies were lurking in the Alastors, an island chain about three weeks to the south, where they seemed to have found a base for their battlefleet. Trahern 'suggested' we continue scouting as we had been, and correct our course so we remained directly in front of his ships. That was all - the aide had no instructions about asking for our observations or ideas.

It was amusing to see Cholla Yi fume and fuss at being treated in such a 'shameful' way. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I couldn't resist quiedy mentioning that Trahern's behaviour was most discourteous, and he should've patterned his style after Cholla Yi's, particularly the way the admiral had treated us when we set forth from Lycanth. All my sarcasm accomplished was to make him angrier.

Xia was even hotter, snarling she'd been betrayed, and this was no way to treat nobility. It was afternoon, in a sleepy midwatch, and all I could hear outside our cabin was the creak of the ship and the bootheels of the watch on deck above us as he walked to and fro. I was sprawled on the bed, and she sat beside me, legs curled under her. I told her she was right, but that was the way of the world, both here and in Orissa. Men appeared to be men wherever I went. Perhaps, I said, she might become Queen one day, and begin a new way of thinking that'd end the silliness. She looked at me oddly. After a moment she frowned, and started to say something further. But I had other thoughts, feeling the warmth in my bones looking at her as she sat in the dim glow from the deadlight. She caught my look and gave a knowing laugh - then all her anger melted in our embrace.

I hadn't gone into a rage of my own because I knew in advance that Trahern had no intention of treating us as equals, and had therefore planned how - and when - I'd deal with it. As long as we weren't in contact with the enemy, I could accept the situation as it was. I concentrated my energies on daily drills to make sure everyone in our small fleet understood the new way I proposed we would fight. The change was great, as great as chalk to cheese.

The greatest change was in attitude. Instead of thinking of ourselves as infantry that happened to be aboard ship instead of on land, we were going to think like cavalry. There's no greater sin a horsewoman can make than to be unhorsed to become one with the common swine she tramples under her hooves. In our case, our horses were our ships. We were only to 'dismount', in other words to board, when we were sure we'd crippled our opponent, just as a cavalrywoman only leaves her horse to administer the final mercy to a fallen enemy.

We were trying to destroy our enemy utterly, not just take the ground he was fighting from, which in a naval fight meant his ship. Burn him, ram him, drive him on the rocks, destroy his sails or oars and he would be out of the battle.

Naturally, Cholla Yi's captains set up a clamour, again moaning that meant they'd take no prizes. I told them I understood, secretly cursing and wishing I had seamen under me who fought for the love of their city rather than for gold. But what I had, I had, and so I told them if they obeyed my orders, they might not take a prize at that moment, but when the battle was won, there'd be more than enough drifting hulks to claim. Wouldn't it be easier, I asked, to seize such a ship from its demoralized, surrendering crew than have to take it by force of arms? Also, if they didn't close and board a ship unless they had the distinct advantage, their own craft would be less likely to be damaged or sunk. I reminded them these huge galleys of The Sarzana we'd be facing would no doubt have derrick-hung stones that could be dropped straight down from their decks when we tried to grapple them, and send us straight to the bottom without further ado. They didn't like to admit there could be something new on the sea, let alone ideas produced by greenlings who also were women. So we went over the theory again and again, until little by little it sank in. Any time one of them said something that mirrored one of our thoughts I complimented him and told him we'd incorporate that into our thinking.

Eventually, it appeared to them they'd had as much to do with this new strategy as we had, and then, with the general idea accepted we could begin endlessly drilling the specific tactics. Sailors learned how to work their galleys handily in close quarters, practising one against another, backing, filling, darting in and out like hounds worrying a boar, never holding still long enough for the tusks to slash them down.

We learned how to fight in two- or three-ship elements, striking always for the flanks and where blood showed. We would give no mercy, not expecting any ourselves, nor would we fight a 'fair' battle, whatever that means. We had more than enough time to lower sails and turn aside from our course, since our galleys had three or four times as much speed as the hulking Konyan ships behind us.

There was also new weaponry to mount and train on, weapons I'd had built secretly in a small yard and moved onto our galleys under cover of night. They were special catapults, with double troughs set at slightly divergent angles. Somebody had seen one as we loaded it and asked if we planned on shooting two arrows at once. I just said yes, and didn't explain, assuming The Sarzana had spies thoroughly covering Konya, or else might be observing magically. I'd worried, but Gamelan had reassured me: 'Just because someone may be able to look at something doesn't mean he can tell what it is, or what it's intended for, now does it?'

Polillo had been detailed off to train sailors how, and more importandy when, to fire these catapults, which were intended for use deep in the battle.

She'd snarled she had more than enough to do making sure her women were ready, plus keeping herself in shape so that Precious, her axe, would drink deep in the fight. Someone else could worry about those damned sea dogs of Cholla Yi.

Corais laughed, and said she was being innocent. She herself would never turn down a chance to teach a man something in his own supposed area of expertise. 'It'd be almost as good as showing one of these leap-on, leap-off, drop-a-coin-and-gone oafs how to really pleasure a lass.'

Polillo had grinned wickedly, then said, dreamily, 'Now, there is a thought. Perhaps, if I'm nice enough, one of them might introduce me to his sister.'

'Careful,' Corais warned. 'Sailors don't have sisters. They only mate with porgies and lighthouse keepers.'

I paid little attention to their chatter, deep in my conjectures as to how the Archon had managed to send fire spitting across the waters, and while I'd not been able to come up with a spell that would let me do the same, I thought I might have devised an incantation that could prove a stronger counter than what Gamelan had been able to produce on the instant.

Gamelan was another problem. As much as he tried not to be a burden, and not always to be the spectre at the feast, he was hardly the picture of cheerfulness. I heard Sergeant Bodilon refer to him once as Evocator Darkness, and took her aside and asked sharply if she herself would bear up handily should she lose both her arms. Bodilon said if that happened, she'd And the nearest cliff and leap rather than wander about glooming to her once-fellows.

I retorted, Then, it's evident who's got the greater courage, isn't it, since Gamelan soldiers on without giving up.' She started at what I said, then bowed her head, apologized and said I was right.

Maybe I was, but something had to be done about our Evocator. I began to worry that he might, indeed, take Bodilon's way out, and considered warning the two women who were his caretakers.

Then another thought came. I ran it back and forth, and it seemed to have a bit of merit. Or, at any rate, to be something that'd not make matters worse.

The next day was clear and sharp, spray coming off the bow as we made full sail towards where The Sarzana would be waiting. There was a slight haze in the air, just enough to blur the horizon and make it a glow. Gamelan was in his usual daytime post in the bows staring forward as if he could see. I jerked my head for his two companions to leave us, and greeted him.

'How goes the planning, Rali?' he said, his voice dull and lifeless.

I was surprised at his tone. It had been days since I'd had time to think about him, and I realized just how much his morale had plunged - like a soldier whose wounds refuse to heal. We talked a bit, and I led the conversation to the predictions of Admiral Trahern's sorcerers that The Sarzana was close.

'I think they're most likely right,' he said. 'Not because I can feel even a hint of my powers, but out of pure logic from all the years I've lived.'

'Go on,' I said.

'The Sarzana, or at least so he told us, had his first triumph when he destroyed the fleet the Konyan King sent against him. Wouldn't he want to repeat his triumph?'

'Of course,' I said. 'That's a trap every soldier must be wary of. If it worked once, it'll work again and again until one day you walk into an ambush and are slaughtered by an enemy who learned your habits better than you did his.'

'Even more to the point,' Gamelan went on, 'it's in The Sarzana's best interests to break the Council of Purity as rapidly as possible. His bloody ways won't be peaceably accepted for long, if there's an alternative. But if he can shatter the only rule the Konyans know, then they'll most likely accept him rather than risk complete chaos.' Gamelan sighed. 'So we'll meet them soon I'm sure.

'Unfortunately, I'm also sure we'll be lured onto ground of The Sarzana's ... and The Archon's ... choosing. Perhaps I'm being vain, but none of the wizards I've spoken to in Konya impressed me as having half the powers of The Sarzana, let alone the Archon ... Gods,' and his voice turned fierce, 'this is the battle that'll settle Konya and perhaps the fate of Orissa as well, and I might as well be put at the gate with a bowl to beg! Rali, if you knew how many ways I've prayed and thought and wished for even a touch of my powers to come back!'

'I know,' I said. I let the silence hang, then said, as quietly as I knew, 'A thought came to me last night, Gamelan, that might be of some help, and perhaps—'

Before I could continue he'd spun and had me by the arms. His face thrust forward, as if he could will sight, could somehow look into my eyes. 'Anything, my friend. Anything, please. I cannot continue as I am much longer.'

I waited until he calmed, then began. 'I don't know very much about wizardry,' I said, 'in spite of your teachings. By that, I mean I don't know how the Talent comes on you.'

'It comes as it went,' he said. 'Without bidding or whether you wish it. Now I wish it had never cursed me, but left me as a fisherman on the banks of our river.'

'That's what I thought,' I said, paying no mind to his bitterness. 'And I know it's cheaper in lives if a soldier can figure a way around a defended position, or else take it from the rear than to shout battle-cries and make a frontal charge.'

'Which is what I've been doing, trying to force my powers to come back,' Gamelan said. 'So what is the way around, my cunning friend?'

'You were a fisherman once,' I said. 'You said that's when people started realizing you had the call to be an Evocator.'

'It was.'

'Return to that time, or anyway, that manner of thinking. There are hooks and lines here. Maybe you could start fishing. Let your fingers remind you of your thoughts all those years ago, when you always came back with a rich catch.'

Gamelan nodded excitedly, and then he smiled, and I realized it was the first time I'd seen him smile for weeks.

He said, 'Yes. Yes. You can always tie a knot or splice once your muscles learn how it's done, even though if you try to remember how the line twists you'll end with a tangle. Maybe ... maybe ...' He stopped, and I thought I saw wetness in the corners of his eyes, then he turned away from me.

I motioned for one of the soldiers who companioned him, and told her to get fishing lines and bait and anything else he might need. And when I told Gamelan I must be about my duties, he nodded, barely hearing, his lips moving as they led him into the past.

When I went below that night he and the two Guardswomen were still up, silhouetted in the bows. I remembered the love of his life, Riana - the woman denied him. I thought of what I'd heard whispered of sex magic, and how strong a spell that could create. For the briefest instant I wished one of my women, perhaps one of his companions, was of a nature attracted to men, then shook my head. It was foolish. And I'd done the best I could.

It was after evening mess, and I was on deck, helping some of my archers make arrows. I was carefully cutting peacock feathers to the precise angle, and trimming the quill exactly to the instructions of the corporal with the gluepot. Corais was nearby, lapping a bowstring with silk thread. About the time my taskmaster decided we'd made enough arrows to riddle a regiment, Corais finished her own job. I went to the rail with her to enjoy the sunset, one part of seagoing I never tired of.

Corais still had her bow, and as we talked of this and that, she rubbed it up and down, letting the oil from her palm work into the fine yew. I realized she'd had the bow since we were raw recruits, and never knew where she'd got it. I asked if it was a family treasure, and she shook her head, then looked surprised as she realized of all the secrets we'd shared this was something I knew nothing of.

'I made this bow myself,' she said. 'It took me five years, and I started when I was only ten. There was this man in our village who fascinated me.'

'A man fascinated you,' I joked. 'And weren't you the eager young stripling with desires beyond your years? No doubt you were perverted from your true nature not much later, just as so many priests and men would have it.'

She wrinkled her nose at me. 'As you know, as I've told you time and again, my village was created boring. Beyond midsummer festival, harvest home, and the winter solstice, the most exciting thing was to watch the turnips grow. All we had were farmers, the priest, a cheating shopman, and... this fellow. His name was Sollertiana, and he was a bowsmith.'

'Now I understand your fascination.'

'Not quite,' Corais said. 'Certainly there were the gleaming lengths of wood in his shop that slowly became singers of death, and the long rows of grey-goose-feathered shafts. But Sollertiana himself held me, not just for the stories he'd tell, nor for the customers that'd ride long distances from the city just to order one of his bows that would require a year or more's wait. I'd just begun to realize I wasn't like the other girls, and playing their little games of squeal and be chased and maybe let a boy put his little pigtail in me and wiggle it. Somehow I knew Sollertiana was different, too. When I was fifteen, after the bow was finished, I knew I'd been right, seeing him look out the scraped-skin window over his bench when a young lad strode past, recognizing the same longing I felt for one or two of the village maids.

'But where I had been able to find a little happiness, even though one claimed she'd been asleep and the other she'd been drunk, Sollertiana knew better than to indulge his passion. Our priest would've raised a mob to burn him and his home if there'd been any suspicion.'

She snorted. 'Of course that same priest also gave scant comfort when a woman was beaten by her husband, or even when a man thought he had the right to take all the women of his household, adult or babes, to wife. Priests!' Corais spat overside, then went on.

'Once a year Sollertiana went to Orissa to buy silk and peacock feathers, and I hope he found a measure of comfort there. I always wondered why, since he was what he was, he didn't move to the city. I asked him once, and he just said that he couldn't breathe when he couldn't see the sun's journey from dawn to dark, and in the city the buildings strangled him.' Corais shrugged. 'I see I've gone astray from my story. But that was why I felt a kinship with Sollertiana. Not only that he was different in his desires as was I, but he also showed me the way I must take. I knew I couldn't remain in that village and either be an old maid, or pretend passion for a man and have to spend my life under his sweaty grunts.

'This bow came from a bunch of three heavy, old red yew trunks that grew close enough to the sacred grove that they'd been permitted to reach great age, yet not close enough so that cutting them was sacrilege. When I told Sollertiana I wanted a bow, he looked at me for a long time. I expected him to just say "go away, child, I've got work to do", like most of the adults did. Instead, he nodded, and paid me no more mind. A week later, he took me to this grove and pointed out the yew trunk. He cut it down with a handsaw, taking over an hour at the task. He sawed the log carefully in two, and kept the half that had grown on the inside of the clump. It had no twigs or pins or knots to it. He took this cutting high in the hills, where a stream ran clear, and he tied the plank securely in the water.

'It sat there for three months, until some of the sap had been washed from it. Then he put it in a damp, dark shed, keeping it in the rafters above the ground for over a year. I wonder if he thought I'd forget about the wood, but I never did. Every day, I visited what would be "my" bow, and thought I could see it change and dry. I even dreamed once I could see a bow's sleekness hiding there. Little by little, Sollertiana moved it to drier places. The last year before we shaped it spent in the open wind and air under the eaves of his workshop.

'All the time it was drying Sollertiana was working with it, tapering it bit by bit after he'd gently peeled off the drying bark. Then he used a succession of rasps, broken glass, pumice stone and then powder to shape it. As it took form, he trusted me more and more to do the work. Finally, I held what almost looked like a bow in my hands. Then came the most dangerous part. He cut the wood into two billets, and I almost died, sure he'd ruined all our work. But he cleverly shaped, fitted and then glued the pieces together, and ... it was a bow!

'He waxed and varnished the wood, and fitted these tips I'd carved from the horn of a stag I'd stalked and killed in the heart of the winter with another bow. Then it was mine.' Corais regarded the bow lovingly. 'It was the first thing I'd really ever owned, besides a couple of dolls my mother had given me that had been hers as a child.

'Not long after that, Sollertiana died, and I left for Orissa. And that was when we met.'

Corais stroked the bow once more. 'As much as I let myself dream about the future,' she said so softly I had to crane to hear her, 'which is foolish for a woman who deals in blood, I've always wanted to have a small shop like Sollertiana's one day. Making bows and fitting arrows to them. I'd probably never be as good as Sollertiana, but then I don't need very much. That's one thing soldiering teaches you.'

'Where would you live?' I said quietly, not wanting to break into her dream. 'In a city?'

'No. I've seen enough of cities, between Orissa and Lycanth. Everybody thinks I'm a great one for the bright lights and all, but really I'm still the barefoot child in a frock with pigshit between her toes. I'd go to the country. Not in that damned village I came from. All I hope for them is a good sacking by three or four sets of barbarians. But somewhere people aren't so quick to look down their damned noses and make judgments.'

She sighed. 'Maybe it'll be that village you told me about, the one your mother came from where the girl on the panther saved them and they learned better. Maybe I'd be a good reminder of what they'd better not forget.'

I'd forgotten I'd once told her where my name came from, and realized yet again how little any of us really knew anyone else, knew what was important to them, what struck the sounding board in their soul.

'Maybe you'd come to visit,' Corais said. 'You and whoever you settle down with, after we've all got too creaky-boned to play soldier. Now that'd be something, wouldn't it? The grand Antero lady, who'll probably be a duchess or something by then, coming to this little midden. We'd drink the tavern dry and try to corrupt any virgins still around.'

The sea blurred to my eyes a little, and I don't know why. 'I think I'd like that,' I managed. 'I think I'd like that a lot.'

'Anyway,' Corais said, and her voice went flat, 'that was where my bow came from ... and what I used to dream.'

I came back to reality. 'Used to?'

Corais didn't say anything at all, but slowly shook her head from side to side. Her hand crept up and touched the bit of The Sarzana's robe she still wore tied around her upper arm. There was a smile, but not of humour, touching her lips.

I might've asked on, but there came a commotion from the bow, and I heard shouts: 'I caught one! Gods, I drew him to me!'

It was Gamelan, and a smile nearly split his face in two. I swear I could see a flash of merriment in his unseeing eyes as we hurried to him. One of his companions held a great flapping fish, some kind of cod I thought, high in the air, then dropped it to the deck and killed it.

'I could feel him out there, Rali,' and I wondered how he knew it was me standing in front of him, 'and I drew him, I could feel him. He'd come up from the deeps to feed, and I kept telling him the bit of cloth flashing in front of him was the sweetest morsel he could ever dream of, and then he took it in a great rush and he was mine.' His smile disappeared. 'Rali... is it coming back?'

'Yes,' I said firmly, forcing conviction into my voice, and trying to feel it in my soul. 'Of course it is.'

That night, I went to Gamelan in his cabin, and told him I thought we were sailing too close to the enemy to be as blind as we were. Like him, I had no great faith in the Konyan wizards, and needed more information. He tugged at his beard for a moment, muttered something about the risk being too great, caught himself and apologized.

He said, 'I don't know if the spells will work. Sending your spirit abroad is not the simplest of magics, and one not even a journeyman Evocator is recommended to undertake. But these are parlous times, and who's to say any more what can or cannot be done? What we need is a creature for you to shape yourself after. I hope you understand that you really don't become that creature - unless one of Janos Greycloak's theories is true, that we are all different manifestations of the same force. That's an idea I've grappled with, but it still puzzles me.'

'Why not just send my spirit out? That was how the Archon came on us. I'd rather be invisible than in some disguise.'

'The problem, my dear friend, with sending you as a pure spirit, assuming the spell would take and hold, is you are extremely vulnerable in such a form. No, it's better to give you the similitude of reality. Perhaps it's safer because the fact you're real binds you more closely to our world, and gives you strength. I don't know for sure, but that's my theory. It's better to worry about some sharp-eyed sailor spotting you as, say, a dolphin and reaching for a harpoon than to be sniffed out by a wizard like The Sarzana or the Archon. If they have the proper magical nets set out, your spirit would shine as clearly to them as a rising moon. A master sage, and both of them are that, could then cast a striking spell in seconds and snap that thread between you and your body. Then your doom would be to wander the worlds as if you were a ghost, never finding rest.'

I shivered, remembering how my poor brother Halab had been tricked into testing his talents to become an Evocator, and had been trapped and destroyed by Raveline of the Far Kingdoms. There'd been no body for the rites, not ever, and Halab's ghost had been laid to rest finally only after Amalric slew Raveline in a demon-haunted ruin.

I turned my mind away. 'What kind of creature, Gamelan? An albatross?' 'Never.'

I grinned, pretending injury. 'And why not? Wouldn't I make a sleek great bird? I've always fancied them, floating high above the world and the seas, only landing for sleep and to feed.'

'You fancy them ... and so does every other beginning thaumaturge,' he said. 'Why not pull a banner hooked to your tail-feathers that says I am rali the spy? We could save the time and trouble casting any protective spells to accompany you.'

I saw what he meant. However, after some further talk, we developed a plan that appeared a bit more subtle, and his two companions and I went out to procure the necessary items for the conjuration. I told Xia my intent, and she began to protest, then stopped. She hastily nodded, then could hold firm no more, and darted below to our cabin, sobbing. I didn't follow, for there was nothing I could do. Sometimes it's harder to love a soldier than be one.

I told Corais and Polillo little of what I was intending, but put them in charge of the Guard. It wasn't necessary to say any more about lines of succession. They were soldiers, so they knew. Polillo scowled, and started to say something, then clamped her lips closed. I knew she had probably intended to warn me to be careful of sorcery, that art she feared more than a regiment of enemy soldiers.

It was past midnight when we had the necessary bits and pieces together, which Gamelan said was good. That'd put 'me', or whatever it was that would be riding the spell, where The Sarzana's forces were supposed to be near dawn.

Gamelan had his tent set up on the foredeck, and guards surrounding it to keep away the curious. I'll go into some detail on this spell, since it's a good way to show magic sometimes takes damned near as much trouble as doing the job with 'real' labour. Part One of our spell was simply getting what Gamelan called my spirit, although he added that wasn't quite what it was, not the elemental soul the word implied, to travel a week or so sail's distance in a few hours.

'There's another thing apprentices don't realize,' he said. 'Mutter some words, and pish, you're a fish. And you prompdy expire because you're out of water. Or else you get dumped overside, and then have to swim for two weeks before you reach your goal. Sometimes,' he said, taking an injured tone, 'it sets my teeth on edge when people think magic can do anything.

'The first part of your journey will be made on the wind. You'll be nearly as vulnerable as if you were a pure spirit, but not quite. Once you close on The Sarzana's stronghold, then our cunning plan will take effect. Or I hope it's cunning, anyway.'

He ordered me to strip bare, and coat myself with a salve I'd made earlier under his instructions. It made my skin burn, and Gamelan said that was one of its intents - to make the spirit want to walk free from the body. It was made of certain herbs, including vervain, ginger and hyssop and oils from his kit, plus some leather from one of the ship's now empty magical wind bags that had been ground to powder, intended to carry the essence of the wind and the spell that snared it. There were other things ground into the oil, things intended to aid the second stage of my journey.

A low fire glowed in Gamelan's brazier that stank even worse than most incantatory pyres. Gamelan explained a bit of an old sail was the centrepiece of the fire, and would hold the wind and lift me free. Among the herbs burning were peppermint, hemp and myrrh.

I had prepared the words to recite, and said them as I stood there naked. Gamelan sat silently nearby - I'd wanted him to help, but he was afraid his still-absent Talent might overshadow the spell and ruin it. First I began by reciting over and over the names of ten of the local gods and goddesses who might have power in these circumstances. There was the god of storms, the goddess of the sea, godlets who danced the winds, some zephyr-nymph's name remembered from Xia's childhood, and so on. I don't list them here, although I think I could remember them all, because according to most magicians a minor god's power only extends to lands where he or she is worshipped. Someone wishing to try this spell should use their own deities, or none at all, keeping in mind what I believe is the nature of gods in the first place.

Then I began the spell itself:

Feel the wind

Touch the wind

Be apart from yourself

The wind is your sister

You must roam free

Float up, float up.

As I spoke, I let bits of paper drift down across the brazier. I'd written the same words on the paper before ripping it apart. The smoke caught and carried them up, and I felt my head swimming, as if a high fever had struck. Then I was lifted above myself, and I was looking down at my body. Then the physical me slumped down to a sitting position, then sprawled. But I had no mind nor time for that body, because the top of the tent had suddenly opened, and I heard the whisper of the cord as Gamelan pulled it away, and above me was the night sky and the stars and I was free.

I was hurled up and on, high into the sky and I caught a glimpse of a constellation and knew I was being borne south. I was not on the wind, I was the wind, and I felt my heart singing. My body was far below me, and far behind me, but my spirit could feel her ghost-hair blowing back as I rushed on and on, and the sharp stinging of the night air, just like when one comes from a sauna in the depths of winter and plunges into an icy pool. It was as if I still had a body, but then again, I didn't. I didn't have to turn my 'head' to 'see' our galleys far behind and below, their masthead lights gleaming against the dark seas, nor further back to the star dots that were the Konyan shiplights.

Now I understood what sorcery could be, what it could give, instead of being a dark power for death and overpowering another, or a niggling series of words and incantations intended to avoid hard physical work. Maybe I understood and even sympathized for an instant with Janos Greycloak, feeling what had drawn him to magic, the same thing that had destroyed him.

Ahead I sensed land, and then saw it as the gale raced me onward. There were ten, perhaps twenty islands, the smaller ones spread like they'd been scattered in front of the largest landmass. These were the Alastors, I knew, having seen sketchy maps of the islands the Konyans had named as The Sarzana's refuge. As I swept across the outer skerries, I could sense, down below, men waiting, whose task was to report the first sign of our fleet. The magical part of me was still marvelling at being able to see eveiything, from horizon to horizon, but the cold soldier within was reminding Captain Rali there'd be little likelihood of surprising The Sarzana, since his sentinels were well posted. Not that I'd ever thought we'd be able to anyway, since physical sentries would be the least and most easily fooled of any of The Sarzana's watchguards.

His name crossing my mind made me 'feel' ahead, as Gamelan had told me to do, trying to sense if there were any magical traps lying in wait. I could sense none, but wasn't reassured. I was a fresh recruit walking along a path trying to avoid an ambush that may or may not have been set by a crafty old warrior.

The main island rose ahead. Now it was time for me to make the second change, into a hopefully less vulnerable form.

The wind that was me did not want to change, did not want to give up its free roaming, but my mind forced the words:

You must change

You must take shape

You are now your cousin

You are the wind's friend

You are flesh

You have shape

You have form

You have flight.

And it became so in a dizzying instant. Not only had I taken on physical form, and was tossed by the wind that had been me moments earlier, but there were many 'me's'. Gamelan had suggested a less noticeable disguise than that of an albatross, and I'd gone him one better. Why must I be a single bird? One creature could well be a spy, particularly if it behaved oddly. But an entire flock? He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, then chortled, and said it was time, indeed, for younger minds to take over magic. There was no reason not to at all.

I was a flock of terns, coming in towards the shore. I suppose I ought to call myself 'we', but I notice a look of confusion from my Scribe, so will try to keep this as simple as I can. It was strange, being many creatures at the same time. I was ten, perhaps fifteen birds, with a common way of thinking, but each with her own eyes. I swooped low over a geo that jutted from the sea, flying past on both sides of it, and it was as if I had only one pair of eyes, but eyes that could see the front, sides and back of something at the same time. Yet everything was quite normal, and I had no feeling of strangeness, nor of disorientation.

I swooped into the sky as the flock closed on the main island. It was high-mountained, and a long, narrow bay clove the land nearly in two. I could see cities at the tip of that bay, cities guarding the gut's portals. At the bay's end was the island's greatest city, which was named Ticino. Even in this near-dawn hour there were lights gleaming, and I estimated the city to be nearly as large as Isolde's metropolis.

The Sarzana's fleet was anchored in the roadstead, with picket boats around them. I knew he'd have many warships, but was startled by how many there were. I tried to count them, but couldn't, and estimated there were at least four hundred - as many as we had - and most likely more.

I was coming closer to the anchorage and flew perhaps a thousand or so feet overhead. It looked as if most of the ships were huge galleys exactly like the Konyans sailed, and my soldier's soul, far back in my conscious, felt pleasure. The new battle tactics I'd devised might work well. There were other ships as well, anchored close inshore in another division, and I swooped closer. But somehow I couldn't see them well. My vision was blurred in spots, just as when water's flung unexpectedly into your face before you have time to blink, or, perhaps, when fog swirls in banks between bright sunlight.

Something whispered, and said I shouldn't look closer. Not yet. And no matter how I tried to 'gaze' at them, the fog still hung between us.

There was no sign of alarm below. The few sailors on the decks of the galleys went sleepily about their dawn routine. No one looked up, and if they had, all they would've seen was a flight of swallow-tailed grey-shaded birds overhead, no doubt looking to break their fast.

I determined to fly closer to the city, closer to the danger that was The Sarzana's and the Archon's magics. But once more, my 'eyes' blurred, and I couldn't quite make out details on the ground, although I was quite close and my sharp tern's vision let me make out a single small school of fish as it broke water. Again I felt that whisper, and it became almost a voice, a warning. Reason caught me, and sent me banking away, back down the bay.

I'd seen nothing to give me alarm, but felt as if I were bare moments from danger. I flew in three great lazy circles, higher and higher into the sky as the sun glinted on the horizon and the shadows on the land and water below drew in on themselves. I had enough for my first scouting.

The Sarzana's fleet was where it had been predicted, and was clearly ready for battle, as the Konyan Evocators had predicted. But what were these blurry patches?

I didn't know, but felt them to be threats. It didn't matter. I'd done enough for one night.

I would return.

Later, my real self took a different and much more pleasant flight -with Xia. I remember coming back from the far place her lips and hands had sent me, knowing nothing, body still echoing to that great roar. I became aware, very dimly, that her head was pillowed on my stomach. I managed a grunt, incapable of more. Xia giggled.

'You went away on me.'

'Mmm.'

'I'll bet I can send you there again.' And her fingers moved. I found energy enough to pull her hand up to cradle my breasts.

'No you can't,' I said. 'I'm a noodle, I'm a string, I'm a soggy mass of wet silk.'

'You are silk,' she agreed, but left her hand where I'd put it. After a few moments of silence, when I almost went to sleep, she said, 'Rali? What comes next?'

'Next I try to get some sleep, you sex-mad animal.'

'No. I mean after we kill The Sarzana?'

'I love an optimist,' I said. 'Once we kill the bear, should the roasts be larded or soaked in vinegar? There's a bit of a task to putting this bear on the table, you know.'

'We'll kill him. I know that,' Xia said. 'So answer my question.'

I sat up, quite awake now. 'I've got to go back to Orissa,' I said.

'What about me? What about us? I can't see me going with you as your companion, at least not for very long. I mean, I'm a Kanara. The last one.'

'Of course I didn't mean for you to just traipse about after me,' I said.

'So then do you want to stay here} With me? I don't think your barons, or whatever your rulers call themselves would object, considering what you've done for them.'

'No,' I said. 'They wouldn't.'

I didn't say anything more, but lay back, thinking. What did come next? She was a Kanara, and I was an Antero ... and commander of the Maranon Guard as well. Being an Antero might not be that important - Amalric and our idiot brothers could handle the estates well enough. But was I through with the Guard? Was I through with being a soldier? Even more simply - was I ready to leave Orissa for good?

'What would I do,' I wondered, 'if I did come back with you?'

'I'll show you,' she said, and her fingers tweaked my nipple, and it rose erect. 'As often as we can.'

'No,' I said. 'I meant...' but let my words trail off. How odd. Mosdy I'd been the person in charge, if that's the right word, of my love affairs. Yet here was this eighteen-year-old starting to plan my future. I didn't know if I liked that. I guessed that was the way royalty reasoned. At least I was being consulted in the matter, I thought wryly. But the idea of being a lapkitten didn't call to me, although I'm sure Xia would find a position for me commanding soldiers if I wished. Noble folk always need a sword to keep their power. But still... but still...

I took refuge in the old soldier's way of dealing with the morrow: the hell with it. We'll never make it off this battlefield alive anyway.

Not that there was much left to think with anyway. Xia had found the knotted silk cord, and was coiling it into place as her other hand swept across and across, smoothing oil on my stomach.

A day or so later, just at dawn, I was on deck, letting my body wake up very slowly. Sergeant Ismet was a few feet away, doing a series of muscle-stretching exercises. She finished, and joined me at the rail. The day was gorgeous, the sky offering the deepest of blue, the sun bright and welcoming. A breeze touched the crests of the low waves as our galley sped through the waters. Behind us, in our spreading wake, was the rest of our forward element and behind them, bare dots on the horizon, the main fleet.

'Odd,' I mused aloud, 'here we are, in romantic seas on a day made for a holiday, and we're sailing into battle.'

'I don't know about a holiday,' Ismet said. 'I could never relax seeing that haze ahead of us on the horizon, and not knowing what might be hidden in it.'

'If you weren't a soldier?'

'If I weren't a soldier,' she returned, 'I'd never be here, now would I?'

Without waiting for a response, she went on, 'If the Captain will excuse me, I've some lazy slatterns to roust out of their hammocks who need their exercise.' And she was gone.

I was reminded once more what a puzzlement Ismet was. She may, in my tales, sound as if she were stupid, as if she were no more than a beede-browed goon. But this was far from the case - I'd seen her on occasion match verse with verse with poets when they recited the old lays of battle. But when it came to love-songs, or tales of the giants and fairies who supposedly walked our land before man, she knew, and wished to know, nothing at all.

Even now, I wish I could say I understood her. But I didn't. None of us did. Perhaps Ismet was one facet of Maranonia incarnate as I'd once fancifully wondered.

The next morning Gamelan sent for me and I found him at his favourite fishing spot positively glowing with excitement.

'Watch,' he said, as soon as I arrived. He squatted on the deck, and if it wasn't for his robes he might've been any old fisherman, scowling at the knotted and tangled net piled in front of him.

He reached his hand out, palm down, and touched the net strings, then raised his hand about three inches above the net. He moved it in circles, his fingers twining, like a cuttlefish. I found it hard to watch them as they moved, then my attention was ripped away, as I saw the net-strands move of their own volition, nothing touching them, and the net itself curled and dipped, and then lay motionless, still a mass, but now with all its skeins untangled.

The handful of sailors and Guardswomen watching cheered, but Gamelan didn't need that to know what had happened. He was smiling.

'I did it as a child,' he said softly, 'and I can do it now... My Talent is returning.'

Some days later I made another visit to the stronghold of our enemies. Knowing I needed to get closer, I created a safeguard - if I was forced to flee, it wouldn't be as a comfortable flock of terns. I would be a swifter and more cunning creature. I'd constructed my new unguent in the proximity of two talismans - first I'd taken a bit of The Sarzana's robe Corais had torn off and still wore as a token of her hatred, and second that awful charm that was the heart of the last Archon's brother. Gamelan had protested mightily, but I'd not let him sway me. The mission was important, and I felt, if I moved softly, just like a tern, wary of man and jaeger, I could slip in and out without notice.

I gave myself a full extra hour before dawn for my snooping, and there was no stirring as I swept closer to Ticino. Three times I swept over The Sarzana's fortress-harbour. But each time I saw no more than the others; except I now realized that the 'fog' obscuring my view was magical. Although I could make nothing of the ships close inshore, I could see more of the city itself. It was huge, as I'd thought. It had few streets, but rather canals connecting buildings, villas and squares. In the centre of the city, I saw a large squat tower. It was actually a round castle, its rim jagged with turrets and bartizans. The city squares around it were clear except for statuary, and access to the castle was via four causeways that stretched over the walls. This would be a hard fortification to storm, and I hoped we could catch both The Sarzana, and the Archon in whatever form he was in, at sea, and end the long war.

I had to see more, and the only way was to increase the power of the spell - knowing if I did so that the danger would increase as well. But it was a risk I had to take. Gathering my strength I formed an image in my mind of The Sarzana as I'd last seen him - petulant in his silks on the deck of our galley. Wary, I began the incantation. But just as I did so the mind-portrait slipped and I thought of the real and greater enemy.

I lost hold and the image smashed into my mind of the Archon in volcano-ripped seas, blood foaming on his lips and staining his yellowing beard, and then the world spun, spun from under me. I was caught in a maelstrom and I was falling towards that castle.

Then all was calm. I was in a vast, shadowed room, hung with tapestries and lit by tapers. I was no longer a tern, nor my flock of terns, nor was I even a woman. I was a spirit, just a presence, and I was staring at the one man in that room, just as he became aware of me. It was The Sarzana, and he sat at a table, the top of which was a large pool that shone like mercury.

The Sarzana's eyes gleamed. 'Antero,' he hissed, but it wasn't his voice I heard. Instead, it was that hiss I'd heard from black clouds when we first attempted a feint against Lycanth's sea-castle. It was a serpent-hiss, and I thought I could smell the same foul breath, the reek of the grave and beyond. The Sarzana stood. He walked towards me, but his motion was strange and unfamiliar. He moved not like the small man we'd rescued from Tristan, but with the long strides of another. And I knew the flesh before me was inhabited by my greatest enemy - the Archon.

The Sarzana spoke again, with a croak. But I knew it wasn't he who moved those lips and used that throat. He said: 'You haven't finished with Lycanth yet, Antero.'

And then The Sarzana laughed the laugh of the Archon. 'I've learned much,' he said, 'and had I known what treasures I'd find I would have taken that journey long ago. There are worlds and worlds beyond, Antero. My brother and I could've seized their fruit and brought it back, and made Lycanth a power greater than it ever was, greater than either the real world of the Far Kingdoms or those child's fables we heard before we came on them.

'Even now, the time and the chance may be seized again,' he said. The Archon came closer towards me, and again he howled, as he had on the deck of Symeon's ship, his voice screeching in rage, 'The blood is paid and the battle yet joined, and his claws taloned, as had his brother's, but this time there was no armour of steel nor flesh between us.

There was a moment, a bare moment, as the two monsters, for I can't call either the Archon nor his now-slave The Sarzana men, seemed to hesitate, as if gathering strength, and in that moment I found my own and cast myself, cast my spirit away and was beyond the walls of the castle, spinning free, with a whirl of images ripping through my mind, a ferret, Gamelan's face, the reliquary holding the Archon's brother's heart, even a flash of Amalric's face, and my mother, my dear mother. As I spun away I could feel the Archon's tentacles stretch out for me.

But for just an instant I was beyond them, and in that instant my mind found the words and cast them forth:

Fly free

Fly fast

To sea

Away Beyond.

My spirit fingers 'remembered' that peregrine's feather I'd stroked back aboard ship, and I became that falcon, darting low over the canals, wings flurrying, away, beyond, to sea. My peregrine's soul wanted me to climb, to soar high into the sky above danger, but I, the I that was Rali Emilie Antero, knew better, and so I shot through a field of bowmen, hard across the harbour, darting this way and that as I went. I was but seconds beyond the galleys, and I could sense the wrath behind me, and the rage boiling forth, like hunting hounds on the scent, but I was gone. I had taken that one moment the Archon and The Sarzana had been too slow to seize.

Near the mouth of the bay I allowed my normal spell to revert, and I was the wind, a wind blowing fast off the island, a sharp gale that was there and then gone. I thought I 'saw', far behind me, high in the heavens, a great eagle, the eagle that was the mortal enemy of the peregrine, sweeping, searching, but perhaps not. I could chance neither the energy nor the possibility of leaving a trail to pay it any mind.

I'd taken the one instant away from the Archon. He would not give me that luxury again.

Gamelan was angry when I reported what had happened. 'The Archon's marked you yet again, Rali,' he said. 'When we come to grips with him once more, you'll be his first target.'

'He can but try,' I said, and immediately felt ashamed of such a subaltern's bravado, especially when I saw Gamelan's blind eyes fix me, and his lip lift scornfully. Before he could tell me what I already knew, that each encounter decreased my odds, I apologized for my foolishness.

'The question now becomes,' he went on, 'what sort of shield we might be able to give you so that you can meet him on equal ground, at least for a moment. I must think,' he said. 'I must think.'

He may have been the only one interested in thinking, though, after I made my report personally to Admiral Trahern. He ignored any mention I made of the Archon, as if he still had trouble believing magic existed.

'Now we have him trapped,' was Trahern's hearty response, and he ordered all sail clapped on and the oars manned. 'We'll not let The Sarzana escape us this time.'

From our scouting I knew The Sarzana's ships hadn't made any effort to sail out and I had to wonder who was being trapped. I also had to wonder why Trahern had sent the oarsmen to the sweeps. All that would accomplish would be to exhaust his sailors before the day ofbattle.

But I wasn't consulted, and so held my tongue.

A week later, we closed on the Alastors. The sail had taken an eternity, even though I was deathly afraid of the battle that would be mounted when we reached them. Was it possible, I dreamed for an instant, that all women and men could learn sorcery, and be able to send their spirits flying wherever they wished? It was an idle thought, but at least a cheerful one amid the grimness surrounding us.

I'd tried twice more to send my spirit forward, but each time had only stood there naked, dripping oil, and feeling a bit of a fool. The Archon, for so I thought of him regardless of his physical envelope, had firmly bolted that door.

But there was always another way. We took our galley close in, using night and bad weather to shroud us, then I went into the gut with a hand-picked team of sailors in a longboat, past the two portal cities, far enough to be able to see The Sarzana's ships as they waited for battle. No. The Sarzana wasn't running.

Finally the fleet arrived off the islands, and assembled into its three battle wings. Fleet Admiral Trahern ordered all ship's captains to assemble on his flagship, the biggest and, I thought the clumsiest, of all the Konyan galleys.

I went across with Gamelan and Cholla Yi. Cholla Yi was already stewing. 'I wonder just how,' he growled, 'that pussel-gutted old man will make sure we'll be denied our fair share of glory?'

I agreed with him that no doubt Trahern would do something stupid. And indeed he did.

He'd had one of his pet aides, who evidently had an artistic bent, draw up a wall-size sketch of the way he proposed to fight the battle. It was quite beautiful, and the aide had had time to add froth-blowing dragons, mermaids and even a sea demon or two along the borders, so as not to obscure our complete understanding of Admiral Trahern's brilliance. It fitted right in with the gold and imperial velvet decorations of the flag cabin, and with Trahern's ship itself, which made the galley I'd rescued Xia from look like a paragon of subtle decoration and design, with its polished metal and white-clayed knotwork everywhere, and the sideboys and on-deck watch perfect in blue-striped long-sleeved tunics, white pantaloons, bare feet and white gloves.

Briefly, Trahern proposed to divide the fleet into three striking elements. One would hold to the left (west) as we entered the gut and be commanded by Admiral Bhzana, who'd wanted my head when we were captured by the Konyans. He was, at least, a fighter. The wing on the right, the east, would be led by Admiral Bornu, who I'd heard was a complete waste, more concerned with who was rogering his roundheeled but rich wife than the ships under him. The centre wing, and command of the entire fleet, would be under the command of Trahern himself.

Trahern's plan was simple - which was its only good point. Our fleet would sail into the bay. It would, somewhere before it reached Ticino find The Sarzana's fleet. Then all of the Konyan ships would close frontally with The Sarzana's, board, and victory could only be a few hours away. That was the sum total of his 'strategy'.

I was seething already, having noted there was no mention of our role in the battle. Instead, I forced calm, and asked.

Admiral Trahern, a little nervously, said, 'Well, Captain, and damme but I wish we'd arranged to give you a proper title, harder than all blazes realizin' you're more than just a ship's officer, we thought you and your, uh, men, I mean, command, would be our reserve, ready to fling yourselves into the fray at the proper moment.'

There'd been a few snickers when he said 'men', not only because of my Guards, but because of Nor's unfortunates. I ignored them. 'Which will be?' I asked.

'Well,' Trahern hedged, 'at my signal, of course. Or, once their fleet is broken, perhaps you'll be useful in the mopping up. Yes, that'll be your role.'

I was about to explode, and all at once everything came to me, precisely and as crystalline as if I were looking down on a battle-miniature under glass. I knew what we must do, and, more importantly, realized Admiral Trahern had given us the opportunity. It was just then Cholla Yi boiled to his feet, sending his chair crashing. I spun, and time froze, just for an instant. Cholla Yi had his mouth open, ready to bellow his frenzy at being left out yet again, and I looked him straight in the eye. I make no claim for working magic at that moment. No spell came, I swear. But somehow what was in my mind must've signalled, because he clamped his mouth shut, and, without saying anything, turned and stamped out.

Admiral Trahern was red, about to shout an order for this unruly pirate to be hurled into irons, then regained control. 'My apologies for my compatriot,' I said smoothly. 'He's merely caught up in the desire to destroy this evil, as are we all. Isn't that correct?'

Trahern nodded jerkily, accepting what I'd said.

'As long as I'm on my feet,' I went on, 'I have a question about your strategy. You seem to be forgetting the curse that surrounds those who kill their rulers here in Konya. One of the reasons the Council of Purity listened to me,' and I put emphasis into my voice for this latter, 'and Princess Xia, was because of their wish for me, or my forces, to keep the blood from their hands. Are you saying you propose to defy that curse?'

There were mutters from the other captains, and I saw fear on the faces of more than a few. Trahern harrumphed.

'As to the curse, well, I must say I've never been entirely comfortable with certain beliefs the masses hold true. I mean, whatever happened to the man, whoever he was, who actually cut the throat of our late King, or however he died? I haven't seen any such ghost being pursued through the streets of Isolde by demons.'

He forced a laugh, and was the only one in the room to do so.

'But, in fact, Captain Antero, I have taken the curse into account. We have every intent of using your forces to the fullest at the proper time, and have no intent of violating the Council's wishes in any way.' Trahern looked a little nervous at that thought. 'But to be realistic, I must say that if The Sarzana happens to fall in battle at the hands of an unknown soldier or archer, well, whatever penalties might be put on that wight's soul will be balanced by the honour in which we Konyans hold his memory.

'But I do not think that will happen, which is why I've designated your galleys as our reserve. Once we've isolated The Sarzana on his flagship, and boarded it, I will signal, either by flag or by magical sign from one of my own wizards, for you and your women to administer the final stroke that will free our lands.

'I'm glad you had the question, Captain, and enabled me to clear up this small misunderstanding.'

Misunderstanding, indeed. Trahern was an even bigger ass than I'd dreamed. It was clear he intended all glory from the death of The Sarzana would cling to him, and would doom all around to make that so. Again, I was reminded of General Jinnah - another man who'd rather lose a war than face reality.

I kept a stony face, however, bowed and excused myself, saying I had to order my galleys, and I'd be paying close attention to his signals. Trahern knew - or thought he knew - what I was thinking, and was glad to see me leave. I took Gamelan's arm and we left the cabin.

As we came on deck, I saw Cholla Yi, pacing back and forth by the railing. He was alone on the deck - none of the Konyans had courage enough to approach this great bear of a man with his spiked hair and face black with rage.

I was about to go to him when Gamelan stopped me. 'Rali,' he said softly. 'Is there anything close at hand that reflects?'

I thought for a moment he had gone mad, then recovered. 'Almost everything,' I told him. 'Admiral Trahern evidently believes that if something moves it's to be saluted, and if it doesn't, it's to be polished.'

'Lead me to something like that. Metal, by preference.'

Not three feet away was a decorative shield of some sort, made of bronze and hung from a bulkhead. I obeyed. 'Take out your dagger,' he said, 'and prick your finger.' 'Gamelan—' 'Rali, do as I say!'

I heard the crackle of command, and remembered this man, blind though he was, had ruled all of the Evocators of Orissa, and obeyed.

He said, 'Smear a bit of blood on the edge of this thing, whatever it is. Just at the edge, where it'll not be found. And don't let yourself be seen.'

Again I obeyed. The Konyans on the deck were intent on their duties, as is anyone who wishes to survive aboard a ship flying an admiral's flag, or else gazing in wonderment at Cholla Yi. I touched my finger to the side of the shield.

'Now, collect Cholla Yi and let's away.'

'Will you explain?'

'Perhaps. Later.'

Cholla Yi sat in the sternsheets of my longboat, still enraged. We went directly to his galley, and I followed him to his cabin. He started to pour himself a glass of wine, then stopped. He turned, looming over me.

'Well?' was all he said.

I explained my realization. Trahern's plan of attack was stupid. There was no way I could believe The Sarzana wasn't expecting us. It seemed he was more than pleased to let the Konyans sail right up to him. He must have some sort of an advantage, besides the slight numerical one.

'Of course he has,' Cholla Yi put in. 'Which is why I wanted to tell that vomit-brained ... never mind. Continue.'

I did. What was our battle? What was our concern?

'The Archon,' Cholla Yi grudged. 'Assuming you weren't mind-clouded by a spell, and he, or his ghost or whatever the hell it is, is one with The Sarzana.'

'Right. Once he's dead, or possibly even captured, the war's over. Right?'

'Again.'

I went on. I had no interest in sacrificing my women for the Konyans, nor in spending the lives of Cholla Yi's pirates if it didn't accomplish the goal we'd been assigned by our Orissan leaders. This battle, even if there weren't any nasty surprises prepared by The Sarzana, would be a blood-bath. I assumed Cholla Yi planned to return to Orissan seas with some of his ships and men or, if he planned to stay in Konya, he'd be wanting something resembling a navy that was floating instead of sitting at the bottom of the Bay of Ticino. 'Again, granted.'

So Admiral Trahern could call us what he wished, a mobile reserve or pink lions if he wished. We were after The Sarzana. If we could take him, anything we did after that would be forgiven.

'True. Plus we've got your little birdie, the princess, along, and she'll be listened to once we get back to Konya.'

'Exactly.'

What I proposed was that we let the three wings engage the enemy. I'd prepare a spell to find the bastard. When we did, we'd strike directly for his ship, paying no heed to anyone or anything else.’

'In the confusion of battle,' Cholla Yi said, his rage fading by the word, 'such a plan, boldly carried through, stands a good chance of succeeding. If we strike as one, dagger-formation perhaps, straight through the melee ... hmm. And if we're the ones who come back with the head of The Sarzana, and whatever the hell it takes to make sure that damned Archon's down in the depths for good and all... damn, damn, damn. We'll be able to rename Isolde Yi... or Antero, if we wish.'

Now he poured wine - two glasses, and he ceremoniously handed the first one to me.

'Captain Antero,' he said, 'I think you may not only have come up with a plan that'll cover us with glory, which means gold, but also may keep most of us alive to spend it. You're a real warrior, Captain.'

He started to say more, stopped himself, and drank. As I sipped, I found it hard to hold back a grin, wondering what words might've slipped out:'... for a woman','... a pity you were born cloven','... almost a man's man'?

It didn't matter. I finished my wine, and returned to my galley.

No one slept that night

And the next morning, we sailed into battle.

Twenty

The Mailed Crescent

The sarzana's ships were waiting. Their battle-formation was a huge semi-circle blocking the bay, which curved from the eastern shallows of the gut to the steep cliffs on the west. It was a bright morning and I saw the gleam of armour on the enemy ships.

Our galleys sat rolling in the gentle swell, oars at the lift, as the three wings of the Konyan Navy went forward to meet the mailed crescent. We hadn't sent our masts down, since we might need full manoeuvring speed later in the day. Cholla Yi's galley sat not thirty feet from my. own and I had the morbid thought we were but idle spectators at some great match - with life as the prize. Xia was beside me on the quarterdeck, wearing her new armour and a sword belted about her waist. I'd wanted to assign her a bodyguard, but she'd refused. Corais, Pollilo and Gamelan were also on the quarterdeck -as were Stryker and Duban. Gamelan was accompanied by his two guards. One of his companions, Pamphylia, had become expert at being the 'eyes' for the wizard, and her low drone of narration had become a familiar backdrop to the Evocator's presence.

Oars flashed and feathered on The Sarzana's warfleet as they got under way. The wind blowing up the gut towards Ticino suddenly died. Then another arose, answering the call of our enemy's magic. It blasted south into our faces and the sails on The Sarzana's ships bellied and filled. The Konyan wizards struck back, and the sails flapped emptily as their counterspell broke The Sarzana's wind-magic. Winds gusted and swirled from all points of the compass. Cholla Yi bellowed orders, and we, too, began moving, making sure we kept the proper distance behind the Konyan battle-line - close enough to give support if summoned, far enough away to avoid entanglement when the fighting began. I had the sudden impulse to cast my tern-spell and observe the struggle from the skies. Fortunately, I asked Gamelan, and he grimaced. 'Rali,' he said, 'I thought I had taught you better and I certainly thought you brighter. What do you think would happen if you send yourself spiralling up there, as innocent as any noble booby who takes a picnic to a battlefield to watch the gore splatter, and either of our great enemies happens to sight you, hanging there with no safeguards, no sense, and no cover? Woman, do you have to look for the executioner's axe with your neck?' I was properly chastened.

But it didn't matter. I don't know exactly what to call it, more than a vision, less than actual sight, but it was as if I were hanging in the sky overhead or atop one of the cliffs to the west, and could see everything that happened on that dismal day. Just as the Konyans, The Sarzana's forces appeared to be divided into three battle groups as well. It may have been chance, or perhaps that was a standard tactic in these islands, but to me it boded no good, and suggested there might well have been some spying, magical or otherwise, and The Sarzana had cleverly planned to have his forces capable of responding independently to any equal threat from us.

I tried to look beyond the crescent as it moved forward, back up the bay towards Ticino. Once again I saw that bewildering 'mist' - lying low between me and the city, just where The Sarzana's reserve ships should've been. I still couldn't see what lay inside that fogbank, but now knew what it must be - The Sarzana had developed some sort of new magical weapon to be deployed at the proper moment. This was the second ill omen of the day. Then I noted that the clifftops to the west were barren of life. Somehow that made the day even more strange. If a sea-battle was being fought close to most cities, the entire populace would turn out to cheer their own warriors, worry about their own fate, or simply to gape over the spectacle. I wondered what had happened to the people of Ticino. I had a moment to wonder if we would enter a city emptied save of blood-smeared streets if The Sarzana fell on this day.

'They're firin',' Stryker grunted, and I, too, saw the ranging splashes rise up ahead of the onrushing Konyan galleys.

'Very good,' Polillo said, trying to sound optimistic. ‘We can hope they waste all their weapons killing those waves between us.'

I could see war engines on the bows of the enemy ships, and saw trebuchets buck as they lofted boulders through the air. I thought I could hear the thumps as their wooden arms struck the padded crossbars, and I could see them being wound back down for another launching. In Isolde, I'd suggested to Admiral Trahem the Konyan ships appeared under-equipped with such gear, but he said there was no place for machinery in their wars - Konyan battles were decided by steel and blood, riot wood, rope and iron. The few devices the Konyan ships had were all that would be necessary for victory, and he had little interest in duplicating any of the special weapons I'd designed. Obviously he'd never learned the truism there's no such thing as too much in battle.

I felt fear crawl up my spine - fear and the certainty of doom; with the added knowledge that I was worse than useless as a captain, more of a danger to my women than the enemy. But this I'd felt before. This was the same spell the Archon had levelled against us, so long ago when we killed him at the volcanoes. It still was unsettling, but at least being familiar the feeling was endurable. I heard shouts of alarm coming from the Konyan ships and cursed. I'd warned the Konyan Evocators of all the tricks the Archon might try, and they'd assured me counterspells would be simple. If they'd bothered to prepare any, they obviously weren't working. I remembered one of the frescoes on a wall of our armoury in Orissa. It depicted the corpse of a Guardswoman, sprawled on a battlefield, and over it the grim inscription: Despise Not Your Enemy. The Konyans were beginning to learn this lesson themselves, although where they'd got such arrogance, forgetting how swiftly The Sarzana had once defeated their best, was beyond me. I suppose victors have even shorter memories than the vanquished.

Now The Sarzana's ships were in range. Another group of machines opened fire - catapults sending long arrows ripping forward, that tore through sails, bulwarks and, often as not, Konyan soldiers. What I'd called 'firefingers' rippled out from The Sarzana's forward ships, striking Konyan galleys and sending them roaring into flame. I tried to see if there was a single source for those firestrikes that might give me a clue as to which ship The Sarzana might be aboard, but they seemed to come from everywhere. Evidently the Archon had perfected his spell.

A Konyan ship not far away lost headway, its oars flailing like a water-beede who panics seeing the carp striking up from the depths. Our galleys drew closer and I could see soldiers and sailors fighting desperately on its main-deck, as if they'd been boarded by a yet invisible enemy. Then I saw what they were fighting. The decks were littered with great serpents, who thrashed and struck with unnatural energy at the men. I'd seen no trebuchet deliver such a wickedly clever load and knew the snakes had to have been transported aboard magically.

'The Sarzana has some interesting tricks,' Gamelan said when Pamphylia told him what had happened. 'That's one I'd never thought of. Worth noting, too.'

The Sarzana, or maybe the Archon,' Corais said quietly. Polillo shivered, and I surreptitiously gripped her hand to reassure her, then let it go before anyone could notice. Polillo recovered in a bare second, and was her usual battle-cold self.

'We are forgetting,' I agreed, 'the Archons ruled Lycanth not just by magic, but by their skills with armies as well.'

Xia was looking very worried, and not a little frightened, which was natural in her first battle. 'What does that mean?' she wanted to know.

I tried to find soothing words, but Stryker spoke first. 'Cap'n Antero means we'd best hope th' bull can take th' lancer b'fore his horse dances him out of the way.'

The Konyan ships were still going forward, slowly, steadily, bulllike, against the rain of fire that came down. I remembered once being forward of such an attack, I don't even remember in which border skirmish it was, and seeing long lines of infantry advancing against archers. As the shafts struck down from the skies the soldiers hunched their shoulders and bent forward as they pushed doggedly onward, exactly like men forcing themselves through a rainstorm. So it was with the Konyan ships.

'Look,' Xia said gleefully. 'They're breaking!'

So it appeared. The enemy centre wing had swung out of line. Signal flags went up from Trahern's warship, but Admiral Bhzana had already seen, and bunting flapped from his own masthead. His ships swung out of the main Konyan formation, away from the shallows and the lagging enemy they'd been expecting to meet, hoping to attack The Sarzana's centre on its flank. Such a bold stroke could break the enemy fleet now and end the battle before midday.

'Too soon, too soon,' I heard Polillo moan under her breath. 'Always wait to make sure the throw is real, not a bluff!' And so it was. As Bhzana's ships formed their new line, a strong, spell-created wind gusted down the gut towards us, and The Sarzana's waiting ships shot like bolts against Bhzana's own flank.

'Shit!' Stryker swore. 'Caught in th' same net they'd hoped t' cast!'

The threat was more than to just our east wing. Trahern's centre was also out of position. Perhaps he'd hoped to help exploit the enemy's mistake, which now was clearly a ruse that we'd fallen for.

The two lines of ships closed and the battle proper began. But it did not open as Trahern and the Konyans had wished. Trahern might've wanted to close and board with the other ships, but The Sarzana's galleys veered, trying to evade contact. Clumsy as they were, there were many instances where they weren't able to turn away and grapnels went across and Konyan soldiers leapt for the bulwarks. But even when an enemy ship was trapped, the battle still was not joined on Trahern's terms. Another galley would strike the Konyan ship from the rear, keeping just a few yards away and archers would pelt the ship, trying to divert it. It was just as a well-trained pack of hounds behave, savaging a bear's legs and flanks when he traps one of their brothers.

I heard screams and shouts across the water and saw flames mount and masts tumble as The Sarzana's ships kept hammering the Konyans. Even boarding wasn't as simple as Trahern had imagined. I saw glints of steel from just above the bulwarks of an enemy ship and stakes protruding out and up at an angle from the rails of the galley -stakes that were so much fence-posting from the sharp strands of steel strung along them. That would be even better than the traditional sagging nets to keep boarders away. Of course, it'd keep The Sarzana's own troops from attacking, but it looked as if he had no intent of fighting a traditional battle this day. Again I knew the Archon's orders had been taken, not only in magic but in war as well.

We were too close to the fray and I shouted a warning to Cholla Yi for us to pull back, but to stand by to reinforce Bhzana's wing if it broke. We withdrew to a better position, but still there came no signal for us to join the attack. All we could do was wait. Now it was truly as if I were above the fleets as the battle continued. From the water it appeared as confusing as any land battlefield, with men shouting, bleeding and dying, staggering back and forth, and dust and smoke everywhere, and banners waving and going down, only to rise up once more; except the soldiers were monstrous ships.

Ships were already sinking and there were sailors drowning, clinging to flotsam and shouting for rescue. Some saw our galleys and desperately began swimming towards us. But it was far, too far, and one by one their heads vanished. Other ships drifted back out of battle, some with fighting still raging on their decks, others showing no sign of life at all, still others with their huge deckhouses shattered by boulders. I thought there were more Konyan vessels than enemy ships. Then I saw Konyan ships start to sail back - away from the battle. Some of them were crippled, dragging the ruins of masts overboard, others were smoking and crippled. But all too many of them showed no damage.

Polillo had her axe unsheathed, and was holding it in her hand, without noticing, slapping its flat hard against her reddening palm, her face mottied in anger and helplessness.

'Weak-gutted sonsabitches,' Stryker swore. 'Rope-spined bastards are breakin' and th' day's not half-gone.'

I realized with a jolt the sun was now high overhead and wondered where the hours had gone; then my eyes were torn away, as The Sarzana's sorcerous cloud lifted and his secret weapon broke into the battle. It was a small fleet of ships such as I'd never imagined. They were not much longer than our Orissan ships, if somewhat broader beamed, and single-rowed galleys like ours. But what made them striking and fearsome weren't just the lurid colours they'd been painted with - the colours of blood and death - but that they were solidly roofed and mastless. They looked like many-legged turtles as they swept forward. There'd be no boarding these craft; small as they were, the hulking Konyan ships would hardly be able even to close with them. I was very glad I wasn't a Konyan captain in the vanguard, because for the moment I had no idea how these invulnerable-looking craft could be destroyed. There were at least thirty of them and they were attacking in a spearhead formation - striking straight for the ignored and open west side of Trahern's centre wing where a gap lay between it and Admiral Bornu's ships.

Stryker swore, and I heard Duban whine something.

Corais was unbothered. 'I don't see how they fight,' she observed. 'Maybe they're intending to scare us to death.'

But in bare seconds we realized the turtleboats were as deadly in fact as appearance. They were rams, but I realized once more that The Sarzana's tactics were new, as I saw the first turtleship strike a Konyan vessel and then pull away as if nothing had happened instead of remaining in a death-embrace with its foe. The Konyan ship rolled at the impact, then wallowed to the side as water rushed into the hole the turtleship's beak had torn. In seconds it vanished under the waves. I realized the rams must either be demountable or, more likely, grooved to snap when a certain amount of force was exerted against them. Such a device would be foolhardy on a ship intended to endure hard weather, since it was likely to snap unpredictably and rip the galley's own bows open; but here in the calm waters of the bay, it was an ideal weapon. But that wasn't the only armament the turtleships had. Hatches flipped open on the covering deck and I saw the warheads of huge arrows emerge from one turtleship as it sailed close under a Konyan's stern. Smoke lifted from each arrowhead and then the catapults fired, sending the firearrows deep into the wooden counter. The hatches banged shut and the gunners began reloading safely out of sight, as flames roared up from the stricken Konyan vessel. The arrows were either pitch-soaked or, more likely, 'dressed' with an incantation.

When the first ship burst into flames, I heard Xia hide a tiny shriek of fear, which no one but me could've heard and felt a flash of admiration for her courage. She was doing better than most before their first battle, better than I did marching up to my first skirmish, not having learned that the waiting and the thinking are deadlier to bravery than the most brutal foe.

Now the battle's tide was in full flood - and for The Sarzana's forces. Behind the turtleships came the entire west wing of the fleet, possibly a hundred or more conventional ships. I didn't know what to do. The entire Konyan fleet was breaking. On my left Admiral Bhzana's ships were reeling back; in the centre Trahern's forces were locked in a smoky melee; and on my right the turtleships and their reinforcements were driving a wedge through Bornu's wing. As Bornu's forces shattered I realized there wasn't anything I could've done, unless there was a thousand of me, and a thousand thousand of my Guardswomen and Cholla Yi's galleys. His still-undamaged ships changed course, oars flailing, and set full sail to take advantage of The Sarzana's wind blowing away from the city. Singly and by squadrons they tacked back towards the open sea; on their heels came the turtleboats and The Sarzana's large galleys.

The other Konyans must've seen or sensed what had happened, because both Trahern's and Bhzana's wings shattered at the same instant. But not all the ships would be able to retreat. There were many ships still caught in the cauldron of the centre; ships that would now be brought to battle and destroyed, one by one. I saw the banner of Bhzana's ship coming away from the shallows, and then spotted Trahern's flagship, its mainsail at full swell, oarsmen pulling for their lives. You bastard, I thought. You led your sailors to this death, and you don't even have the damned courage to stay and share it with them. Whatever courage the admiral had in the past that brought him greatness had vanished with age and ease.

The first ships sailed past and I heard their sailors scream to flee, flee, the battle was lost, and even the dead had risen from the depths to fight us. I wondered for an instant, then nearly retched as a horrible stench rolled over our galley, coming from the first Konyan ships, now not more than three or four hundred yards away.

I made a decision, but Cholla Yi had already made it for me. Flags were at his masthead, and he was crying through his trumpet to retreat, pull back, there was no standing against them.

Xia shouted in blind rage, shouted he was a coward, then spun as I snapped the same orders to Stryker. 'You can't!' she cried in her frenzy, nearly in tears, 'You're no better than—'

'Silence!' I shouted. 'You wanted to be a soldier! Now soldier!' That outcry stopped her for an instant, and in that instant common sense returned and she slumped and turned away from me.

I could see some of The Sarzana's ships clearly now, and gasped. It looked as if the fleeing Konyans were right. On their decks were horrid beings who'd once been men, some rotting from exposure, some dried up into brown wisps by a hot desert wind, others bloated and fishbelly-white from their time on the ocean floor. Some were working the sweeps, others methodically served catapults or waited patiendy with bow or spear for the range to close. For an instant I remembered my brother's tale of a city of the walking dead far away to the west, almost at the gates of the Far Kingdoms, where even the city's Lord was a living cadaver and how Amalric almost died in that horrid necropolis. But he had Greycloak with him ... and I did not.

The charnel reek was all around us and even my hardened mercenaries were beginning to show fear, even as they obeyed orders and we turned and fled with the others.

Then I knew what the smell was, and what the corpse-sailors were. I guess I knew this because of my own spell-casting, my own sensitivity to wizardry. Just as I knew what the truth was, I knew the countermeasure. I ordered Xia below and told her to bring up her cosmetics bag. She gaped, and I snapped at her sharply. Puzzled, she obeyed. In a few seconds she'd returned and handed it to me. I found a vial of perfume, unstoppered it and sniffed. It was ideal - a heavy, strong flower-based scent.

I cast the bottle into the air, and it spun - contents spraying. I chanted, the words coming easily:

Seek flowers

Seek your foe

Cling to him

Change him

You are the greater

You are on the earth

And of the earth

He comes from the ether

He is not

Take him

Change him

Turn him.

The corpse-smell vanished.

I shouted, 'It's just a spell-lie! Those men are no different from you and I. It's the Archon's magic!'

The words, or possibly just that someone appeared unpanicked broke the frenzy, even though the men could look behind them and see the onrushing enemy ships still manned by the undead.

'I'll break that spell, too,' I shouted, and then stopped short.

The battle was over, but not for all of us. Two galleys were sailing back, back towards The Sarzana's ships! I didn't need to strain my eyes to know who they were. They were two of Nor's galleys, blinded by their rage. I might've felt a bit of admiration for their suicidal attack, having seen and known women who deliberately threw their lives away and charged into the midst of the enemy, shouting their deathsong in joy. But I didn't. There were eight of my women on board those two ships who hadn't chosen that death. Very well, I thought. That'll be another debt to settle, first with Nor, then with The Sarzana and the Archon.

The two ships were surrounded by the turtleships, and their masts vanished and I saw no more of them that day - ever again. But there wasn't time for anger.

Just to our west, one of The Sarzana's monster galleys was bearing down on us.

'Polillo!' I shouted, and my legate bounded forward to where her nervous catapult teams waited behind their strange weapons mounted on either side of the foremast. The catapults' prods were wound back to full cock, a shaft in each of the twin troughs, and hanging between them a loose net-bag with a coiled chain inside, a thin chain that I'd cast a spell of strength on.

The huge ship rolled down on us, its sail big with The Sarzana's magic wind, and I could hear, dimly, the gleeful shouts of the soldiers aboard the ship, thinking they had us trapped.

Above their shouts I heard Polillo's chant.

'Steady... steady... left a little... steady... up... a little more ... steady ... steady ...'

'Shoot!' I screamed, and the catapults thwanged like two miscast bells struck with steel mallets. The starboard set of bolts went wide, and missed, but the port one sped true. Just as I'd designed, just as I'd tested, the bolts vee-ed out, the net-bag snapping and the chain coming taut between them, about to snap or else send the device spinning out of control, and then it struck fair, about halfway up the enemy ship's mast, and snapped it like a twig. The sail billowed back, and stays and yards cascaded down over the ship's deck.

That was the only strike we had time for, and I'd only allowed it so we wouldn't feel completely defeated.

Now it was time to run, before the turtleships could close and destroy us.

Full sail was set, and our rowers pulled for their lives. I thanked Maranonia we hadn't set normal battle order earlier and sent the sails down. Now, with the first part of the Archon's illusion broken, it would be easier to find a counterspell to shatter the rest of it. Perhaps that would be enough to make the fleet turn and at least fight The Sarzana's ships to a standstill.

While one part of my mind sought for the words and ingredients, another was preparing a signal to Trahern. I went to the rail, looking out over the gut, which was now widening to the open sea, and we were almost past the two portal-cities. Our ships were scattered across the waters like bits of paper on a floodtide, each trying to escape, none concerned with any but himself and finding safety. Spell or not, there would be no more fighting this day.

It was too late for my magic, mine or anyone else's.

It was fortunate The Sarzana's ships had no greater turn of speed than the Konyans, because if they could've caught them, they would've wiped them out to the man. But they were dropping back now. I saw the turtleships wallow as the first great swells of the ocean struck them and they turned back to calmer waters, their mission accomplished. A few minutes later the rest of The Sarzana's fleet followed. Now that spell wouldn't be needed. The Sarzana had won his great victory and broken our fleet.

I saw Trahern's galley far to the rear. It might've been one of the first to flee, but was as unhandy as I'd thought, barely making steerage way. Just as my eyes found it, it changed, and became a swelling, building boil of fire and smoke, white streamers soaring high into the heavens as it exploded! Seconds later the Shockwave of the blast rolled across the waters and over our galleys.

Before that flameball vanished an apparition spread across the sky above it.

It was the Archon, seen for just an instant, his filed teeth bared as he howled in glee over his victory. Then the sky was empty, and there was nothing but the ashen taste of defeat and death.

Twenty-One

The Puppeteer in the Round Tower

Near dusk the Konyans slowed their flight. This wasn't the first battle panic I'd seen, nor would it most likely be the last. Terror-stricken soldiers only run so far and so long. They stop when they can't see the enemy any longer, when they collapse from exhaustion, when they see others slow down, or when they're faced with the unknown - something that's even more frightening than whatever sent them scurrying away from the sound of drums.

Thus it was with the Konyan ships. We were too far away from their homelands with open seas between us and final safety. Also, some of them might've seen The Sarzana's forces turn back and realized after a while they were now unpursued. So the ships gathered in little knots around their division leaders or other command ships that had survived.

This was a grave mistake by The Sarzana. He should've chased us until darkness at least, so that all would 'know' the demons were still hot on our trail.

I thought there were two possible reasons. The Sarzana wanted a signal victory, and didn't want to commit his ships to a long series of actions that'd finish us in detail. This is a common mistake with Great Leaders - all of their actions must be marked with boldness and energy and last no longer than the attention span of those they rule. The grind of small details aren't for them. This is why, when war is waged between a Brilliant General and Scruffy Bandits, it's not entirely foolish to bet on the bandits.

Also, I sensed the killing stroke yet to come would be a storm brewed up by the Archon. This would scatter our ships like sand, so only a few would return to Konya with news of the disaster. I felt magics a-building even as we sailed away from the Gut of Ticino after the fleeing Konyans, making signal after ignored signal. By the time the ships had lowered sails -I swear as sheepishly as men realizing they're behaving as foolishly as barnyard fowl - the beginnings of the storm were already showing themselves. A chill wind blew up from Ticino; there was a chop to the waves and the glass was falling.

I knew we'd have to deal with that within the next few hours, but there were more important problems at hand.

We closed on Bhzana's galley, which would for the moment be the fleet's flagship, and sent signals requiring him immediately to summon all other ship captains, not just division or element leaders, for a conference. I thought there'd be more than enough room on the flagship - I estimated that less than half of the Konyan. ships had survived. I waited, not quite sure what I'd do if my orders were ignored, but saw with relief both flags fluttering and bullseye lanterns flashing as the gloom gathered. His signals were received and echoed by other ships as they drew together near the flagship, and I saw small boats being swung out.

I made a signal to Nor's nearby galley that he was not to attend this conference, and I would require his presence aboard our galley when I summoned him. I wanted to give the Broken Man some time to consider his broken oath. I said I wished Corais, Xia and Gamelan to accompany me. I told Xia she was to wear her battle garb. She seemed surprised, but I said the reason would become apparent soon.

I left Polillo in charge of the Guard, not only because I wanted someone of her imposing presence to ensure my back was covered, but also because what I intended suited her little. Some of the darker duties of soldiering ill became my legate, and I thought the better of her for it, and secretly despised the part of me that held me firm to distasteful tasks like the one I was almost sure would be required.

I had one longboat launched and sent directly to Admiral Bhzana's flagship. It carried Flag Sergeant Ismet, ten heavily-armed Guards-women, our ship's carpenter, two sailors and the gear I'd determined necessary. I had another boat launched and the four of us boarded it. I ordered it rowed to Cholla Yi's ship, and explained to him what I intended at the conference and what must be done if we had any hope of survival, let alone recovery from this terrible situation.

I'd had time enough to devise a plan as our galley sped after the others. Surprisingly, Cholla Yi listened closely, and grudgingly agreed that most likely I was correct in my thinking and strategy. The only hesitation, I thought, was that the plan wasn't his, nor would he lead it. That gave me one ally, at least for the moment. I was under no illusions as to the pirate's long-term reliability.

As we rowed up to Admiral Bhzana's ship, my anger ebbed when I saw it. He hadn't fled at the first hostile shout from The Sarzana. His galley had taken serious damage from The Sarzana's war engines. The upper deckhouse's roof had been torn away, as had one entire railing and part of the hull itself on the starboard side. The main deckhouse was smoke-seared and blackened from fires set by The Sarzana's catapulted arrows and half his oars had been snapped. Two mainstays had snapped, and the ship's mast sagged drunkenly. Men swarmed over the decks making hasty repairs. They tried to avoid looking at the long line of covered bodies on the afterdeck awaiting burial.

We boarded, and were saluted by the galley's master. I stared at him coldly. 'I only accept honours,' I said, deliberately in a loud voice intended to carry to every seaman within earshot, 'from soldiers, not from men who've turned their backs on honour.'

He turned red, but didn't meet my eye. That was the first sign I might carry the day - if he'd exploded in anger or reached for a weapon I would've known the Konyans were truly without courage.

I ordered Yi and the others to wait on deck, and our ship's carpenter and his assistants to set to. I told the ship's master to take me to Admiral Bhzana. He was below, in a cabin nearly as magnificent as Admiral Trahern's. He had his back to me, and was staring out through the round portholes at the afterdeck and the line of corpses.

Without turning, he said, 'I'm a fool.'

'You are,' I agreed. 'And worse. You broke.'

Now he turned. 'First I let myself be drawn in by that childish artifice, then, when the Konyans attacked, I couldn't rally my ships.' I just stared at him. 'But I swear to you I didn't break,' he said. 'I swear I saw signals from Trahern's ship ordering me to retreat.'

I remained silent, and his shoulders fell. 'I cannot expect you to believe me,' he went on. 'I can only ask your permission to pay for my error.'

'How do you propose to do that?'

'By going to my gods.' His fingers touched the shortsword at his waist. 'I wanted to do that earlier, but was stopped. Captain Oirot said ... it doesn't matter what he said.'

'You fled once,' I said, letting scorn run down my words like blood down a sword, 'now you wish to do it again? Your self-indulgence is denied.' Bhzana flushed. 'You can kill yourself, give yourself medals or run a mast up your ass when this is over for all I care, but for the moment you will place yourself under my orders, and do exactly as you're told. Is that clear?'

Once a soldier's honour is broken, he's like putty drowned in linseed oil. The trick is to avoid further shaming him, unless you wish to make the ruin complete. This I didn't want.

I said, 'Now. Here is what will happen,' I went on, closing the subject and giving him very thorough instructions.

An hour later, the ship captains were assembled. There were 174 of them, so they packed not only the foredeck, but the passageways beside the deckhouse as well. Among them was Admiral Bornu, who I noted showed no more battle damage than I'd seen on his ship when it fled towards the open sea. Unlike Bhzana, Bornu was trying to bluster his way out. I paid no attention, but bade him wait on the foredeck with the others. There wasn't much conversation from them, both because of the day's shame and because their attention was fixed by the device I'd had my carpenter set up on the topdeck.

I stood just at the top of the companionway that led to the main cabin's topdeck. Just behind and beside me were Cholla Yi, Corais, Xia, Gamelan and Admiral Bhzana. Behind them were my Guardswomen.

We'd come out of the cabin's ruins silently, making no announcement, and stood, waiting. Slowly we were noticed, and the buzz of low conversation died. I let the silence build and build until it was intolerable. There was nothing but the whine of the wind as it increased in speed, and the wash of the waves against the galley's sides.

'The Sarzana defeated us today,' I said. 'And we ran from him like fish flee the shark pack. Are we to return to Konya with that on our souls? Are we going home to tell our loved ones what cowards we were, and for them to prepare to face all of The Sarzana's terror?'

'What else?' It was a voice from the rear. There was a clatter of agreement. Once more I let the words die away into the wind.

'What else? We're going back to Ticino!' I said. 'The battle's only begun.'

'When?' This was an officer in the front row I didn't recognize. 'How long will it take to get reinforcements up from Konya? A month? Two months?'

'We're going back tomorrow. Tomorrow at night,' I said. 'That's impossible!' That came from Admiral Bornu. 'Nothing is impossible,' I said.

'To blazes with you,' he said, and bounded halfway up the companionway and turned to face the other captains. 'We were beaten badly this day, beaten by wizardry and the force of arms! There's no way for us to recover, not now, not as outnumbered as we are! This whole damned campaign was doomed! It never should've been fought! We should've waited for The Sarzana to get closer to Konya and then defeated him on our own grounds, in our own waters!'

I heard agreement building.

'Or maybe,' I said, *you think we should have just surrendered without fighting at all?' Now there was dead silence.

'Maybe, we could've struck some kind of arrangement,' Bornu said, nearly mumbling. 'Maybe if we'd gone to The Sarzana and offered—'

'Offered what?' I said. 'Your daughters? Your wives? Your gold? You couldn't have offered your honour, since by your words you possess none!'

Bornu's hand was on his sword. I heard a rustle from behind me, and knew Locris or another bowwoman was reaching for her quiver. I moved one step closer down the companionway. 'Now, Admiral,' I said, ^lnow you reach for your blade, after letting it rust in its scabbard all day?'

'This is quite mad,' he said, but moved his hand off the weapon's grip-

'Is it? Listen, you men. Listen to that wind. Isn't it stronger than it was an hour, two hours ago? Do you really think The Sarzana and his familiar, the Archon, are done with us? Now that they've got us on the open seas, weak of will, bleak of mind and heart, don't you think they'll cast a tempest against us? Do any of you believe they intend for us to return home so we can stand against them once more? If any of you do, that I term madness!

'Not that it matters what you believe. You are soldiers and sailors. You swore an oath to defend Konya with your lives. The only ones among you who've kept their oath, who still have their honour, lie back on the stern, sewn into canvas sails with a coin in their mouth and a bit of pig iron at their feet to carry them down into the depths.

'The rest of you? What do you think of yourselves? How many of you fled the battle with never a shaft being fired, with never a spear being cast? Now, I call on you to obey me. We will attack The Sarzana once more. And this time we'll destroy him!'

'Obey you?' Bornu sneered. 'An outlander? A woman?'

I turned to Xia. She stepped forward.

'I am Princess Xia Kanara,' she said. 'My father sits on the Council of Purity. I claim to speak for him. Are there any of you who will dispute that claim?'

'You're a child,' Bornu said. 'I swore no oath to obey you.'

'But obey me you shall. And I command you to follow the orders to be given by Captain Rali Antero, who was hand-picked by the Council as the one who best knows how to destroy The Sarzana. It is to all our shame this expedition wasn't put in her charge from the beginning.'

I was impressed - I'd told Xia some of what I hoped she'd say if the occasion came up, but not this last.

Bornu began to say something, but before he could Admiral Bhzana was beside Xia.

'Admiral,' he said. 'Both women are right. This is a day of infamy, and we must make recompense. I know I am not your superior in the naval lists, but you must obey Princess Xia and Captain Antero.'

‘I am Admiral Nepean Bornu, a landed baron,' the other man replied, 'and my family has served Konya for generations. I have a duty as well, and my duty is to take my ships safely home, where they may help protect Konya in the final battle to come. For me to follow the orders of you, my junior; this foreign sorceress who may well be in league with The Sarzana himself and who brought this evil on our lands; and this stripling who's besotted with the outlander... no. I refuse.'

'I order you once again, Admiral,' Xia said, her voice hard beyond her years.

'And I have my duty, a greater duty.'

'Princess,' I said. 'I myself vowed to serve your Council to bring down The Sarzana. I must tell you this man's words constitute treason.'

There were low outcries from the officers, and I saw heads turn towards the device I'd had erected earlier.

'Not merely treason, but high treason? I continued, 'since he also spoke against the commands of the Council of Purity.'

'Treason you call it, and treason it is,' Xia said.

Bornu looked around wildly. Before he could move, or anyone come to his aid, I said, 'Sergeant Ismet!'

My women went down the companionway as if they were attacking lionesses, swords whipping out, spears at the rise and arrows nocking. Ismet and Dacis had Bornu by the arms before his own sword could come out. The officers on deck were shouting now, and I saw the glitter of weapons.

'Sergeant! Hang him!'

Bornu shrieked, and struggled, but could do nothing. In a moment he was dragged to the top of the companionway and to my device. It was a gibbet, a simple gallows I'd had constructed aboard our own galley, moved to Bhzana's flagship and remounted. The rope went around his neck, hanging slackly down to his knees then up to the crossbar, its long knot set just behind his left ear.

I turned to Princess Xia. Her lips set in a firm, thin line.

'Execute the traitor,' she said.

Sergeant Ismet swung the gibbet on its axis, and Bornu was sent stumbling out and down, off the deck and falling. The rope came tight and over the wind's snarl I could hear the sound of his neck snapping. The body flipflopped, then hung limply from the rope's end. Now there was complete stillness.

'I condemned Admiral Bornu as a traitor,' I said. 'I further condemn as traitors all who disobey or disagree with the orders I have issued and am going to issue, and they will face the same penalty.

'You will obey me,' and I let the steel show, 'or by the heavens I will decimate every ship's crew and then we'll go back into battle with bodies dangling from every yard if it is needed!'

I didn't give them time to recover.

'Now, I want all division and element captains in Admiral Bhzana's cabin immediately, and I'll give you orders to pass along to the others.'

I said no more, but strode back into the shadows, and I heard the others behind me. I may've sounded like iron, but inside I felt my stomach turn. I'd dealt with fear and panic before, but never from so many. And while I'd ordered the law many times, up to and including the final penalty, even on one occasion sending a murderous Guardswoman who'd terribly shamed us to the city for sacrifice in the Kissing of the Stones as expiation, I'd never ordered anyone sent to their death out of hand, with no court, no recourse, no appeal.

But I saw then, and see now, nothing else that could've been done. When battle is on the cusp, there cannot be any debate nor hesitation, and any weakness must be cut out as swiftly as a poisoned dart, or everything will die.

I note my Scribe is intent on his writing, and doesn't raise his head to meet my eyes. This is yet another part of war that isn't talked about by anyone, especially by those who wish to forget killing is the heart of the matter, not battlesongs, banners, parades or armour gleaming in a summer sun. Remember what I said, Scribe, and tell this to your sons and daughters before you allow them to run laughing into the recruiter's embrace.

I was just as stern to the division officers when I gave my orders, although I did give them an explanation, mentioning, and this was the truth, that I'd checked with the shipmaster Oirot, and he'd confirmed that storms in these waters at this time of year were unheard of.

With Bornu's body now unseen, the officers had time to consider. Reluctantly, they agreed with me, that it was most unlikely The Sarzana wouldn't attempt to finish us with magic, and that we were as unlikely to escape as if his fleet were still hounding us.

'Of course,' one said, 'we could always split up and make for home ship by ship, which would really give that bastard a chance to pick us off one by one.'

While a bit of understanding hung in the air, I presented my plan. Tomorrow I would send representatives to each ship, and give the battle plan. Late in the afternoon, we would set sail back to Ticino and sail past the portal cities after full dark, which would mean we'd close on the fleet anchored in the roadstead near Ticino around midnight.

'A night attack,' one officer said, and scowled. 'My men aren't used to fighting in the dark.'

'Do you think The Sarzana's are?'

The officer smiled a bit, and shook his head.

'The advantage is always on the side of he who strikes first,' I said. 'Isn't that true? Isn't the day carried by the boldest?'

'What about magic?' another one said. 'My ships held, until they saw those gods-blasted covered ships of theirs, and the ships behind them crewed by the dead.'

I said neither the turtleships nor The Sarzana's magics would be as effective, their surprise gone. There would be Orissan magic cast before our attack began, magic that would shatter their spells like thin ice on a pond.

I gave them a flurry of other orders, to make sure the other ship's officers understood the overall plan, to make sure their ships were repaired as best they could, and most importandy to feed the sailors and rest them in watches. At dawn, the division officers should attempt to reassemble those surviving ships belonging to their elements and stand by for orders.

All this was important, of course, but I wanted the Konyans to be so busy no one would have time to let cowardice creep into his heart again. I further told them that our Orissan galleys had been given special orders - to sail guard around the assembled fleet, and ensure no one attempted to flee. 'I won't,' I said, 'even bother putting up a gallows if I seize such a ship but will send all its crew down to the sea demons unburied so their ghosts will never rest.'

I dismissed them and the others.

The Konyans summoned their boats that lay just off Bhzana's ship, and, one by one, disappeared into the night. There were many looks cast back at the dangling corpse of Admiral Bornu.

I waited until the last was gone, then started down the boarding ladder to our longboat. Admiral Bhzana asked me for a private moment, and I stepped away.

'They'll obey now,' he said firmly. 'And so will I.'

I looked at him, very long, very hard. But I made no answer as I went down into my boat.

Aboard our own ship, I knew there would be no rest for the remainder of the night for any of us, least of all me. This was the second night I'd go sleepless, so I'd have to force myself to get at least two hours or so of rest during the day, or I'd be as worthless as a toy dagger in battle.

My first tasks weren't those of a war leader, but of an Evocator. First I had to divert that storm that was building that'd most likely strike during the night. But that was where the surprises began.

'We can't cast a spell that directly,' Gamelan said.

'Why? I know he's got great powers, greater than ours, but it seems—'

'You don't realize?' Gamelan said, his voice showing surprise. 'Realize what?'

'I thought you knew, and that was where your idea to strike back came from. The Archon believes you dead.'

'What? How? Why?' I must've sounded as dumb as I did the first time my watch commander told me my unchecked sentry had taken the opportunity to let two winesellers into the compound after taking and drinking a full gallon as her share.

'You still are a journeyman,' he sighed. 'Remember back, aboard Trahern's ship, when I smeared a bit of your blood on that shield or whatever the reflecting metal was? I said a few words when I did, hoping some of my powers had come back, since that spell's something a veritable baby Evocator can cast, especially if the seer is looking from afar.'

'Oh. The bronze was a mirror, intended to reflect ... me?' I guessed.

'Just so. When the Archon cast about, in the flurry and frenzy of battle, with wisps of spell and smoke and magic all about, he "saw" you aboard Trahern's ship. You don't think he gave one tinker's damn about that old bastard, do you? Why would he bother casting whatever spell he sent out to explode that ship like it was a melon dropped from a tower? You were his target and, as far as he knows, he succeeded.

'Frankly, I'd suspect that was why the pursuit turned back, and why this storm has taken so long to build. This fleet's destruction may be The Sarzana's ultimate dream, but it's hardly the Archon's. He knows he can destroy Konya when and how he wants now that you're gone.

'I think we've also solved another puzzle as well. Remember when we wondered just why The Sarzana would allow word to slip out that we'd rescued him, rather than it appearing like some grand miracle all his very own.

'Again, it wasn't his idea, but the Archon's. The Archon must have sent some sort of whispering spell across Konya so that everyone knew the Orissans had freed The Sarzana, but none knew where they'd got the knowledge.

'He must have your death in hand, and, unlike crude villains such as Nisou Symeon or arrogant men like Raveline of the Far Kingdoms, he's quite content to let others kill his snakes for him.'

'He's behaving like I'm some great Evocator, like I was you, with all the powers of the Orissan Evocator's Guild behind me. The man, if that's what he still is, is no coward. Am I to believe he's that great a fool?'

'Don't be absurd, Rali. Consider it from his perspective. If you and your brother were great wizards, once in league with even greater magicians to the east, and your plans were first stopped short by someone named Antero, and then your own brother killed by another, possibly even more powerful, Antero, what actions would you take? It's quite clear that you do have great powers, even if they're still developing.'

I was silent, considering. Then I shook my thoughts away. 'Be that as it may, Evocator, we have a spell to work out. Let's come up with something that keeps me still dead. I like it a great deal better being out from under that bastard's gimlet gaze.'

And so we did, in about an hour. It was a powerful spell, yet a simple one, a spell of delay, not negation. The storm would continue, would still build, but would take at least two days to reach its full fury. Neither of us thought the Archon would sense any opposition, especially since, if Gamelan's reasoning was correct, he had little immediate interest in our scattered warships.

The second spell was more hazardous, and chanced exposing the fact I was still alive. But I thought the risk worth taking. I drained a few drops of mercury from the binnacle our compass needle floated on. With that, and a bit of the 'flying' unguent, I sat alone in Gamelan's cabin. I lit a single candle, fed certain herbs, sprinkled an aromatic oil from Gamelan's kit on it and breathed deeply of the fumes. Next I set a steel mirror beside the candle, and concentrated all my attention, my being, on the reflection of that candle. The distance, the remove, would keep 'me' safe from being found out, or so I hoped. But I had no concern for the Archon, no thought for The Sarzana as I became the flame, no more than the flame, only the flame.

Fire, fire

Elemental fire

There is no other

There is no other

You live alone

You need no other

You are the moment

You are the fire.

The one who was Rali Antero was gone, was absent, and there was only a small flame, looking to illuminate the dark. The fire was fed a trifle of the unguent on a piece of wood, and flared, and became something else, and found new surprise and joy at flying, at flying over water, over land, over its two great enemies. The flame 'saw' itself reflected in that tiny drop of mercury, and somehow the fire felt what a human would've known as words.

Now there's another

Now you've a brother

Fire seek

Fire find.

Now I was, for just a moment, that drop of mercury and again for an instant I 'felt' for my brother. In the same moment I found 'him', there was ice across my soul, and I could feel darkness gathering, coiling behind me, and in that same instant I was fire, I was alone, I was the candle, I was safely back aboard ship, and knew, my drop of mercury having 'found' that larger pool of liquid metal that floated atop The Sarzana's table, just where I could find and kill him.

This time we wouldn't be sailing blindly into battle. But it would be a deadly fight - The Sarzana's refuge was the most secure place in Ticino. There'd be much blood shed winkling him out.

It was almost dawn. I spent the last hour before the sun rose drawing an exact map of Ticino and our objectives. Then I cut it into almost two hundred pieces, said a simple duplicating spell, and my table crashed to the deck under the weight of two hundred full-size maps of our target I could find nothing more to do, so turned matters over to Corais, and collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

When I awoke, I had a screen erected on the quarterdeck, and took a saltwater shower, dumping buckets of water over my head that one of my privates hauled up and passed to me. It wasn't what I wanted -what I wanted was a long soak in a scented bathtub like the ones in my family's villa; a tub about as large as the entire deck I stood on with water as hot as that cast by a geyser; as soft as a kiss and perfumed with the most expensive oils and salts. I allowed a moment to dream. A soak, followed by a long massage. The massager would be Xia, although a part of my mind wondered how she had got to Orissa, but that wasn't important since we'd both be naked, and she would slowly rub the oil into my skin, her nipples hardening as they caressed my back, and then ...

... and then Corais begged the Captain's pardon and said there was a signal from Nor's galley. So I put aside the dreams of what would've come after, the carefully chosen meal, the slow twining of our bodies as we coupled on a silken bed, and then hour after hour of dreamless sleep, to wake once more to the scent of love, and no damned war, sorcerers or order-giving.

I said to ignore whatever his signal was, but to order him to our galley at once. I dried myself off, feeling the itching start as the salt dried, and put on my battle gear.

I had the quarterdeck cleared of all but the watch officer and helmsman, and had Nor brought to me by two fully armed Guardswomen. I wasn't sure what I'd say to him - he was a hard man, harder than Bhzana or his captains. He knew his officers had broken their oath when they went sailing off to blind destruction, and I saw no point in reminding him. Instead, I told him neither he nor the other two galleys would be needed in this battle, which was why they weren't summoned to the conference on Bhzana's ship. He visibly flinched, then gritted there was no way of stopping him.

I said there was indeed, and I would have no compunctions about ordering three of Bhzana's ships against each of his. The Broken Men were feared and hated by the others, because they reminded sailors of what could be their fate. Also the other men were eager to prove themselves still warriors, and would leap to my bidding.

He said nothing, and there was nothing to say - he knew I was right. He sagged. 'Is there no chance of changing your orders? I will not apologize for what Yanno and Nasby did, but they did break the oath we all swore. I can't expect you to believe any promise I make, but it shall not happen again. All my men saw their brothers die, with no harm at all coming to The Sarzana.'

Now I had him. I told him he had only one option, and told him ^v what it was. This was the only way he could fight in the battle, and possibly make amends for his men's broken promises. He started to protest, then stopped, realizing I meant what I said, and even though my orders would result in giving up everything they'd planned, and the way they'd dreamed of fighting; it was that or nothing.

Reluctantly, he agreed. I told him he had two hours to ready his men for trans-shipment, and we would have boats standing by at that time.

And so it was. Even as his men were taken off their galleys, their ships were taken in tow by the larger Konyan vessels. Heavy longboats busied themselves around those hulks too badly damaged to return to battle, lifting their stone ballast out of the bilges to provide fresh ammunition for others' trebuchets. Then those ships were abandoned and scuttled.

The fleet set sail for Ticino. We moved slowly, our speed held down by those damaged vessels that would've been abandoned and scuttled if I intended using normal tactics, but now, together with Nor's Broken Men, they'd be the opening wedge in my attack.

As we sailed boats were crossing back and form from ship to ship, taking certain supplies to the damaged vessels, taking sailors from ship to ship, and other tasks.

I myself was busy. I'd told Bhzana I needed five ships with only the bravest crew, for a special task. He didn't need to think for more than a minute, but said I could take five from Captain Yezo's squadron. They were crewed by men who'd escaped from islands that had been ravaged by The Sarzana, and Yezo's entire family had been slain by The Sarzana years ago when he held the throne.

I'd heard too much talk of bravery from these people, and seen damned little, so I told Bhzana I'd judge for myself. I had myself rowed to each of the ships whose crews had volunteered. Grudgingly, since at the moment I felt little warmth for these damned Konyans, it appeared they might be capable of what I wanted, although I knew, as always, battle is the only truth. I must take my chances. I wished I had a battalion of Guardswomen, or even enough to provide a stiffening squad on each ship, but of course I didn't.

I made very sure each sailor on each ship knew exactly what he would be required to do, and how it was unlikely he'd see the sunrise on the morrow. No one stepped back. If the hulks Nor's men now crewed were my opening wedge, these five ships would be the levers to pry the door full open.

I had the most skilled whittler on our ship sent to me, and gave him his orders. Surprisingly, it was the murderous Santh, Fyn's compatriot. I began to explain why I wanted what I wanted, but he already knew.

'The son of a poxed whore sent sorcery agin' us,' he said. 'On'y fair if you c'n use it to turn it back agin him.' He tossed the chunk of soft wood in his hand measuringly, then, humming something utterly tuneless to my ears, set to work.

Later, in Gamelan's cabin, the old wizard had a chance to put his slowly renewed talent into practice. I remember how pleased I was as he held his hands over me, brow furrowed in concentration as he chanted:

Turn away

Turn away

Your eyes are bothered

There's naught to see.

He finished the spell, touched my head and either shoulder with a larch twig and shrugged. 'Well, if I've got any powers back, and if I remembered that baby incantation correcdy, I've given you some protection from the Archon, at least for a spell.''

He smiled a little at his feeble joke, and I laughed, not so much at his words but because it was heartening to see Gamelan's spirits return to what they'd been before Konya. I hoped his powers continued returning apace, and sensed if they didn't, he'd drop back into his former gloom.

His smile faded and he looked anxious. 'Can you tell, Rali?'

His spell may have been simple in its execution, but I thought its intent quite clever. It was a subtle variation of the Archon's spell that had hidden the turtleships under a fogbank, though requiring far less energy and materials to cast. It was intended only for magical 'vision', so that further simplified it. If an Evocator happened to be 'looking' at an area where I was, his 'eyes' would sting slightly, as if water droplets had been flipped in them, as indeed Gamelan had Pamphylia do when he started. It would be simpler and more convenient to look elsewhere, at something else, although that thought should never pass across the conscious mind of the seer.

'Now, how could I tell? I'm not very good yet at "seeing". Perhaps we might evoke an Archon or three and ask them?' I said, my own spirits brought up by Gamelan.

'Well, if it works, it works,' Gamelan said. 'If it doesn't, well, can I have your grimoire?'

We laughed and moved to the next piece of magic. Before we began I wondered aloud what it would be like to live in a world where magic never existed.

'Impossible,' Gamelan snorted. 'That would be like dreaming of a world without water to drink or air to breathe.'

My next thought was equally unimportant: 'Since mostly battle magic doesn't work, or doesn't work very well in the confusion of spells and counterspells, what would happen if you went into combat without bothering to cast any?'

'Did you ever heat an empty wine jug in a fire and then, before it could cool, stuff a cork tightly into its mouth?'

'The one time I tried it as a child, the jug shattered across the kitchen and my father sent me to my room for the rest of the day without a meal. But Amalric had better luck, and told me the cork was sucked into the jug with a loud pop.'

'Exactly what would happen if you fought a war without Evocators and their spells, even if they are mostly mummery or ineffective. The fire drove something out of that wine jug, and the emptiness was too great, pulling the cork in after it. Your enemy's magic would be drawn over you, like a bait net, and you'd be swept up like a school of minnows.'

'So it must be then, spell and counterspell and counter-counterspell and counter-counter—' 'Rali. We have work to do.'

We did. But before we went back to alembic and wand, I did have a wistful thought about that world without magic. Gods, but war would be simpler if all you had to rely on was your brain, your muscles and your sword. In a world like that, there probably wouldn't be any armies, since there would've been no need to develop them, and men and women would setde their differences as our primitive fathers did, in single combat.

Once we had our magics ready, we summoned the surviving Konyan Evocators to our galley. There were only four - the rest had died when the Archon exploded Admiral Trahern's galley. But that gave us four acolytes, since the Konyans were indeed somewhat behind Orissan skills. We'd gathered those few unopened bags of wind from the other ships, and, with those as a base, cast an incantation that would hopefully give the fleet not only a fair wind up the gut towards Ticino, but one we might control as to intensity and even direction.

I'd suggested this last might be achieved by placing one of the small longboat compasses in the mouth of the leather bag, and, as the spell was being chanted by the four Konyans, I snapped the needle with a fingernail so it spun wildly. One of the Konyans said when we were finished that my addition would likely mean the winds would either blow from all directions at once, or else we'd have a cyclone. I paid him no attention, knowing better.

As we sailed closer, the Archon's building storm disappeared, and I was reassured - if he was tracking us magically, he certainly would've moved the eye of his storm along with our ships.

It was mid-afternoon when we sighted the first of the offshore islands. I'd become my flock of terns once more and scouted ahead of the fleet. I wasn't in any danger of being discovered, even in this familiar guise, as long as I stayed well away from the mainland. Most of the islands' watching-posts had been abandoned, their men recalled to Ticino after they'd seen our ships sail past in disarray, and those still manned had sentries who were hardly at their most alert. Even so, when we approached another spell was begun. We were taking no chances. It was fortunate the day was cloudy, although I'd thought of an alternative incantation if the skies had been clear. On the open deck we set five braziers on high tripods to mark each point of a pentagram. In each brazier we burnt incense we thought pleasing to the Konyan gods of the air, and more important herbs as well, herbs that should bring magical potency whether the gods favoured it or not - laurel, mountain star, kalumb root and monkshood.

In the middle of the pentagram Gamelan had chalked symbols on the deck where I knelt before a low charcoal fire. Different herbs were cast into the fire, dandelion root and plantain among them, and a pot set to boil atop it. When the pot seethed and the steam billowed, I read certain names I'd written down on a scroll, together with a guide to their pronunciation. I didn't know what language they were in, nor, surprisingly, did Gamelan.

'This is one of those spells that've been handed down from Evocator to Evocator since I do not know when. No one I asked, when it was my time to memorize these words, knew a translation, other than this was a way to call the clouds to cover you, and was mostly used by witches in the farming areas to lessen the effect of a blistering early summer sun on young plants.'

We'd modified the spell for our own needs, and, as I said the words, stumbling over their arcane pronunciation, I glanced up, and saw, very slowly, very majestically, the clouds coming down to join their fellow, as we'd bidden them. We stopped the ceremony before the fog became so thick we couldn't see from ship to ship. It would be absurd if the magic intended to conceal so blinded us we rammed and sank each other with no necessity for an enemy.

Now magic and magicians were transferred to Admiral Bhzana's flagship. There was no room here on Stryker's galley, nor would it be the safest place when battle was joined. One Konyan was put in charge of maintaining the fog spell, ordered to chant the words if the fog began dissipating, and the other three set to maintaining the wind conjuration. Gamelan wondered if they were to be depended on, and thought perhaps he should stay with them. A trace of his former bitterness showed when he said, 'At least an old man like me wouldn't get in anyone's way over there.'

I was about to retort, but Pamphylia was quicker: 'Why, sir,' she said pertly, 'you must be with us during the landing. I mean someone has to be in the vanguard who's capable of raping as they say all soldiers must.'

Gamelan snorted, but his good humour came back.

Xia was in our cabin when I entered. It was time for me to put on my battle harness. Xia wore the uniform of the Maranon Guard, had her armour nearby, and sat on her clothes-chest, looking at the bare sword she'd trained with so hard as if she'd never seen it before.

'Princess,' I began, speaking formally since what I was going to say was an order, not a request and not from a lover, or at least I hoped I'd reached my decision using logic, not love. 'When we go into battle—'

Xia interrupted, 'When we go into battle, I shall be beside you, Captain.'

I stopped. I'd figured she'd object to what I was going to tell her -to transfer to Admiral Bhzana's galley, or at the very least remain aboard Stryker's ship when we landed in Ticino, and had a response ready for that. But she'd slipped the mat from under me by using my tide, just as I'd attempted to start the discussion on more formal ground by doing the same.

'No Kanara has ever fought a battle from the safety of their tent. I shall not shame that tradition,' she said.

'All right,' I said. That's quite admirable, Princess. But you are the last Kanara. What if...'

Then my father will have to legitimize one or another of his bastards and possibly even marry one of his concubines,' she said. 'And those weak-bellied sons of his lust'll bring the family heritage crashing down in ten years.

'But what of it,' she said. 'I care little about what happened before I was born, unless it affects me, and less about what happens after my death.

'For all I know... or care ... when I am taken by the one you call the Seeker this whole world will flicker and die out like a blown-out candle. Perhaps all of this has been put here just for my amusement.'

I was about to say something at this piece of rather incredible arrogance when I saw she was hiding a grin and there was a wicked glint to her eye.

She laid the sword down on the deck and stood. 'There is another tradition in my family,' she said, her voice husky as she came to me. I was wearing only boots, a loose open-necked tunic that ended at mid-thigh and my own weapons belt. That fell to the deck with a thud, and her hands were on my shoulders, pulling my tunic down to my waist as my nipples rose, and then it, too, was on the deck and she lifted me in her arms and laid me atop it.

Xia never undressed, but took me as a warrior might take a maiden given him as a war-prize. Her lips and fingers were everywhere, caressing, stroking, then forcing, and I was thrashing, feeling the deck timbers scrape on my back, trying to keep from crying aloud as she sent me soaring high, higher even than my magic.

Eventually, in a day, a week, or a year, I came back, to see Xia lying on her side next to me, running a fingernail gently across my skin.

'A delightful tradition,' I managed. 'One I think the Anteros should adopt.'

I forced energy, and turned towards her, but she shook her head. 'After the battle, my Rali. After we've destroyed them. Then there'll be time and more for love.'

At full dark, our ships slid past the portal-cities. None of the ships showed lights, nor did I hear any shouts from any vessel as we slid along. I wished this had been the way it was two days earlier. There would now be several thousand men still breathing and dreaming of their homes and glory, instead of rotting silent corpses rolled along the ocean floor by the tides.

We'd arranged the order of battle before entering the gut. Now those half-wrecked hulks manned by Nor's Broken Men and other volunteers were in the vanguard. Our seven galleys were just behind, sailing in close company with Captain Yezo's five Konyan ships. Astern was Admiral Bhzana's flagship and the rest of the fleet. I'd made no suggestions, issued no orders other than that his ships were to close with and destroy any enemy they encountered. I assumed, or at least hoped, the division and ship captains were competent at ordering their own formations. I said it'd be unlikely they'd face the same problems with the enemy evading close battle during this night engagement as they had earlier, since we would hopefully have surprise as an ally. Finally, I ordered that no ship was to withdraw from battle unless specifically ordered by me and no one else, and that a great spell had been cast to send sea demons up to destroy any ship or sailor who disobeyed.

Not wanting to end my orders with such a lie, I'd thought for a moment, then scribbled, 'No man who sets his course towards the sound of battle this night can do wrong. The Gods strike for Konya!'

Then there was nothing for me to do for a long while except wait and pray we weren't discovered.

Corais was beside me in the forepeak. We watched the lights of the portal-cities fade behind us as we sailed on towards Ticino. I turned away, to go back to the quarterdeck. She put a hand out to stop me.

'When you are back in Orissa,' she said, 'on the first day of summer, would you authorize a tournament of archers in my name? And let it be open to all, especially girls who might be drawn to join the Guard?'

I began to say something, then found other words. 'I will,' I said. 'And you'll be the main judge, and make the sacrifice to Maranonia.'

'Make it of the early summer flowers. Roses, wisterias, lilacs and such,' she said. 'Shed no blood in my name.'

'Very well,' I said. 'But there's one condition - you'll have to keep your hands off the archers, at least until their mothers have their backs turned.'

Corais smiled, and her fingers touched the bit of The Sarzana's robe tied around her upper arm. 'I thank you,' she said, but no more.

Ticino glimmered through the night and haze. Now I'd find out if my strategy would work. My main concerns hadn't been its potential, but whether our attack had been magically discovered, and a trap laid for us, plus, of course, the larger worry about whether the Konyans would fight or flee again.

I'd ordered the immediate return to The Sarzana's stronghold not from rage, nor to justify the old saw that a thrown horseman, if he ever wishes to ride without fear, must remount, but because I knew soldiers. After a victory, particularly a victory as smashingly one-sided as theirs, celebration is in order. Soldiers wish to drink, eat, couple, re-affirm their hold on the world of the living.

Ideally we should've counter-attacked the same night we'd been driven out, but that had been clearly impossible. But when I reflected further, remembering how some of my post-battle hangovers had lingered, even when I'd soddenly attempted to drink them away, attacking The Sarzana on the second day might mean his forces were even less capable. We would know in bare moments. I could see the outline of the anchored Konyan ships against the bright lights of Ticino. I could hear the shouts of celebrants, the clashing music of military marches and drinking songs, and see the flare of torches on gondolas as they wove through the canals that were Ticino's thoroughfares. There were but few lights in the harbour, not even the masthead truck lights most ships set when anchored.

I gave an order, and Sergeant Ismet opened the shutter of her bullseye lantern in the long, short, long signal I'd arranged. The Evocators on Bhzana's ship should be obeying and increasing their chants. I felt the wind from the stern freshen, and Gamelan, who was standing beside me, said, 'At least they can follow orders. So far, anyway.'

'They'd better,' Polillo gritted. 'Or I'll learn magic and cast some sort of spell that'll make what little remains of their cocks shrivel and fall off.'

She looked at Corais, expecting some rejoinder, but all she got was a wan smile and silence. Polillo looked concerned, then shrugged and went forward to her station at the catapults.

Our sails filled, and Duban hissed orders to set a reef - the wind was intended to help other, slower craft. It did - the large mainsails on the hulks ahead filled, and the ships groaned as they were forced to speed. Tiny white wavelets appeared beside their bluff bows as they went forward. Captain Yezo's ships also wallowed past at their full speed, their duties to begin before ours.

Thus far my strategy was working perfectly, and I began to worry, remembering the old adage that if your battle plan goes off without a hitch, you're walking into an ambush. A signal light flashed from an enemy picket boat, and a challenge shouted. Seconds later the first of Yezo's ships smashed into the tiny craft, and sent its splintered fragments to the bottom. Men's screams drowned as the sea took them. Torches flamed on the Konyan hulks as my plan continued. These crippled ships were sacrifices, fireships, and as we'd sailed back towards Ticino they'd been loaded with flammables - oil barrels lashed to masts, other barrels below decks with old wax-drenched sails and tarred rigging to feed the flames. When the Konyan sorcerers had fed the wind, Nor's Broken Men and other volunteers aboard the hulks, had smashed in the tops of the casks and lit fires.

Flame roared into the night, and I heard screams and shouts as watches on The Sarzana's ships came out of their stupor. In the red and yellow flames men were outlined on the fireships as they flung their torches into the flammable deck cargo, and then the maindecks engulfed, ran for escape to the longboats towed behind each hulk. On one ship, they didn't run fast enough, and the fire reached out and took them, screaming, into its embrace. The fireships were glowing like paper lanterns as they bore down on the anchored enemy.

The roadstead was chaos as The Sarzana's sailors tumbled on deck, fuddled by sleep or drink. I imagined the poor bastards trying to decide what to do, which of the many screamed orders to obey. Here and there alert seamen axed mooring lines as the fireships closed, and the wind caught those ships and sent them drifting out of control down on their sisters. One of The Sarzana's galleys wasn't able to float free in time, and a fireship rammed it. Flames roared across to the other ship, and the great torch screamed up at the heavens. Another and then a third of The Sarzana's galleys burst into firestorms.

Behind us I heard thuds and crashes, as the few war machines on the Konyan ships began launching missiles. They were still at too great a range, and waterspouts rose from the dark waters like deadly plants. Then one boulder after another smashed home against the decks of The Sarzana's ships. Firearrows arced out over the night sky, and here and there more flames flickered on enemy decks.

The lead Konyan ship smashed into an enemy, and grapnels went across and the storming parties, shouting for blood, swarmed over the bulwarks. Another ship laid alongside it, and a third at its stern. Even these cumbersome Konyan galleys could learn the tactics we'd devised, and worry their prey like packs of hunting beasts.

Our own mast-slashing catapults were firing, on our galley and the other Orissan ships. The masts of The Sarzana's ships were easy targets, outlined black against the flames. But it didn't matter whether or not my bolts struck true or went on to crash into the city itself -they, like everything else, were intended only to wreak havoc and bring confusion. But from the happy yips and shouts from the foredeck, Polillo was thoroughly enjoying herself, after that long day earlier of inaction and defeat.

We had the greatest weapon of all on our side, surprise, and I intended to keep it. All this was diversion for my attack against the Archon. But I had one task before I could go for the kill. Closer to shore lay the turtleships. They were crewed by more elite or sober seamen, because almost half of them had their oars out, had slipped their moorings, and were underway.

I took from its box the small model of the turtleship Santh had carved so carefully, that I'd treated with a spell and touched with the broadhead of an enemy arrow, to ensure it 'knew' its larger brothers and would seek them out. I set the model in a water-filled pan, not so much to further the emulation, but to prevent firing our own ship. I unstopped a vial and dripped lantern oil onto the little ship.

Oil take life

Oil must grow

Oil take wing

Oil take fire.

I touched a splinter of wood to the illuminating fire in the binnacle until it flickered into life, then held it against the oil-soaked model.

Now you are fire

Now you have power

You are strong against the night .

You end the night

None can stand

All must fall

Reach out and take

All like all

And all is meat

Fire reach out.

The turtleships exploded. I thought grimly that the Archon's weapon I'd first glimpsed in the sea of volcanoes had now flowered, and turned back on him. All the turtleships were caught by my spell, and seared into ruin. The armour-plating that had made them arrow-proof now was a trap. I saw very few sailors scramble out of the ships' hatches before they charred to the waterline, rolled and went under, the magical fire burning them faster than any earthly flame could have.

The harbour was as light as full day. City lights were blazing on, as Ticino stumbled back to alertness, but I didn't have time to worry about that, as I began yet another spell. I didn't think this was necessary, but the Konyans had broken once before at an illusion, and I had no intention of losing this battle if that conjuration was used again.

Gamelan had a brazier ready, and onto it I sprinkled, among other dried herbs, wort and rue against sorcery and rosemary as a guardian against death.

Eyes, see!

Eyes unblinded

See what is

See what is

See the truth

See through the veil

See beyond the mist

Eyes unfooled.

The tiny cloud of smoke grew and grew, and spread behind us, across the Konyan ships, and then vanished. I'd warned Admiral Bhzana of my incantation to keep the living-dead illusion from taking effect, and instructed him to tell his sailors not to take alarm, but even so I heard shouts of fear, and a couple of ships veered from their course. I swore, but had no time for that, either, because Captain Yezo's five ships were closing on their targets. Those were the five seagates from the ocean into Ticino's canals, normally kept closed to lessen the tide's effect. I saw soldiers running onto the waterfront in fighting order and showering the ships with arrows and spears. But it was far too late.

Now it was time to shed my Evocator's cloak, such as it was, and gladly return to what I knew best. Sword in hand, I pelted off the quarterdeck and forward, along the storming bridge to where my assault party waited. Xia grinned, a hard, humourless smile she probably wasn't even aware of, and now we were closing on the Ticino docks.

Five of Yezo's ships ... five seagates ... I'd ordered him to strike direcdy in from the sea at the gates, where the water would be deepest. One veered to the side either by accident or perhaps the helmsman had been hit, and ran aground, hard against the embankment. But Evidently the soldiers didn't recognize the intent of the attack, because some of them broke off firing at the other four, and ran to concentrate fire on the stricken ship which had failed in its mission. Yezo's ships were seconds from crashing, and I saw Yezo's men were as disciplined as he boasted. Sailors, ignoring the arrowstorm, were cutting the ropes that bound anchors to improvised derricks hung over the ships' sterns, as they'd hastily trained to do, and the anchors splashed into the dark harbour waters.

Yezo's four ships struck. I heard the rending crashes loud above the roar of the battle in the roadstead as all four struck fair into the centre of the entry-ports, sending the sailors aboard sprawling. Then the men came back to their feet as the ships they'd deliberately wrecked lurched and rolled on their beam ends, then back, and were at the crude windlasses we'd had mounted on the quarterdecks, kedging the ships out of our way.

I heard Stryker shouting for full sail, and Duban crying to our oarsmen for speed and more speed, but was intent on Yezo's craft. Slowly, laboriously, one, two, then three were moving back, freeing the canal mouths. On the fourth I saw a flicker as both anchor cables snapped and whipped back across the decks, cutting men down as they lashed. But three gates were open to the canals, our passage into the heart of the city. Three openings, and on his flagship Cholla Yi was bellowing and I was shouting, and our oars were coming up, feathered, as our galleys, driven by that now high magical wind from the Evocators shot into the gullys. I heard wood scream and rend as one ship ground along the stone canal banks, but it mattered not how close the fit was as long as we were still moving.

The waterway widened, and we could row, and our ships drove onward. Ticino's planners had laid out their city logically - the canals ran straight from the waterfront, and ended around the city's main square. That efficiency would doom the city. Ahead was the empty square overhung by The Sarzana's huge round tower. I had a moment to glance behind, as I heard the din of battle building, and knew what was happening. Yezo's men were coming off their ships as they'd been ordered - swimming, jumping, or, hopefully, using the long planks we'd put aboard as gangways. Their orders now were simple -to spread panic in the city by fire and sword. They'd been told to spare the citizens and take no loot, but I knew better than to expect that of most of them. Not far behind them, if the battle in the roadstead went as hoped for, the other Konyan ships would be landing troops with the same orders.

I wanted chaos, because if Ticino was drowned in rack and ruin our real enemies might not notice my women and the mercenaries striking for their throats.

I heard Duban shriek pain as 'his ship', our galley, slammed into the stone wharf at the edge of the square, but what of that? If we lived the Konyans would rebuild our galleys a thousand times over before we sailed for home. Gangplanks slammed down and we poured ashore, onto the hard stone square of Ticino. Other galleys came sliding out of the canals. But there was no time to pause, nor even look around, and I was running hard for the stairs that curled up to the causeways to the tower. There were five, no six sentries, but they were dead, stumbling down with shafts in their chests that had punched through their armour like it wasn't there.

The causeways were open, and I could see into the heart of The Sarzana's stronghold, and we were running harder than before, desperate to get inside before the gates that must exist could crash closed. There were archers on the top of the ringwall ahead of us, and an arrow scraped brick next to me and pinwheeled away. Our bows thrummed, and arrows sang away and those walls were bare.

I heard the battie-cries of my women, Corais's yip-yipping like the savage fox she was, and felt a flash of brief joy. This was what I'd built the Guard for, what I'd led them towards. Now they were my shining battle-blade, and now I'd strike a deathblow with them. We were united in that moment, in that blood-drenched run down the causeway, past the slumped bodies of soldiers. This was what my life was meant to be, not an endless array of hobbling up and down at sentry-go, nor crouched around a fire muttering incantations like some dried-body crone, but even as the red thought came through my blood joy I knew it false.

We were a few yards from the short tunnel that led through the tower's ringwall into an inner keep when rusting metal, long-unused, grated, and I saw the iron spikes of a portcullis grind down from an overhead slot. Then Locris and Polillo slammed into it, keeping it from closing. Four other women - I don't remember three of them, but one was Legate Neustria - leaped past me, and one of them jammed a spear into the groove the second, inner portcullis was supposed to travel down, and jammed it. I stood in the centre of that tunnel, and saw Polillo impossibly holding the iron grating by herself, and then Locris reappeared, half-carrying, half-dragging a balk of lumber that she forced up into position, bracing the portcullis open, and the way was clear.

Up the causeway ran the rest of my women from the other galleys and behind them Cholla Yi and his men. Far below, in the square, I saw three figures, and knew they were Gamelan, indomitable even in his blindness, and his two escorts. There were bodies down on the causeway, bodies of my Guardswomen, too many for me to keep my eyes on, and I turned back towards the keep on the other side of this tunnel that led to the tower. From above me, through a murder-hole in the centre of the tunnel's roof a crossbow string snapped and a bolt slashed into Locris's side, burying itself nearly to the vanes. She screamed, clawed at the bolt, took two steps and died. A bow-woman sped a shaft back through the slot, but there was no one there, or at least we heard no sound of a hit.

We were running again, out of the tunnel into the lighter darkness of the keep, and now the great round tower rose above us. Its monstrous gates were barred and, in line in front of them was a company of crossbowmen.

I shouted 'Down,' and we were flat, just as we'd trained so long in our mock-charges, and Xia thudded down beside me as the crossbow strings twanged as loudly as slashed ship-cables and the bolts whined overhead, catching only one or two of Cholla Yi's men who'd never learned to duck.

Five yards from me, Dica leapt to her feet. 'Come on! Before they've time to reload,' and was running, sword high, no one else on her feet, and before I had a chance to shout warning the front row of crossbowmen knelt and the second rank fired, and Dica contorted, hurling her blade high into the night sky, and then she fell.

The night was sudden red, not the red of fire but of blood as the Guard came up and charged, screaming rage, and poured across the courtyard like quicksilver, like lightning. Ismet was beside me, snarling like a jungle cat for her once-lover as she ran, and we were among the crossbowmen with sword and axe before any of them had time to cock their pieces, and so they died to a man where they stood. Guardswomen went down with them - in that fierce moment of slaughter Neustria and Jacara went to the Seeker along with others.

I had a mere second to mourn Dica. Of course she'd erred in rushing the bowmen before she realized they hadn't shot their course, but she died bravely and she died at the head of her troops. I wondered how many Guardswomen might've hesitated before charging, given that front rank time to reload and died if it hadn't been for Dica's unknowing sacrifice. That's the way all too many of my best have met the Seeker, and why the Maranon Guard has buried as many officers as privates.

The huge gates into the keep were barred, but our sudden bloody rush had left the soldiers without time to close their small sally-port, and before anyone within could move, we were inside.

Polillo somehow had got in front of me, and there were three soldiers coming at her. I suppose to them, she was a blur, a killing engine, but to me her movements were very precise, very slow, and exact as she used the head of her axe to shove one man back into another, then while they stumbled, recovering, to change her thrust and lunge, as if the axe were a halberd and bury its curved head in the third man's throat. Without changing stance, she recovered, her enormous strength pulling the axehead free as the other two came at her. She batted the first man's sword out of line like a kitten with a stick, and with the backswing used the bill to hook and snap the neck of the second man. The first man shrieked and tried to flee, but Polillo, still moving as carefully as if she were demonstrating the Art of the Axe to awe-stricken recruits, sent it crashing into the back of his spine and the man flopped away like a gaffed fish.

A man lunged with a long bill, and Xia slashed through the weapon's wooden shaft and the man's arm as well. Spouting gore, he shrieked and fell.

In that instant I 'felt' the spell Gamelan had cast vanish, and knew I stood naked to the gaze of the Archon. I 'heard' a scream of surprised rage, and we all felt the stone flags under our feet grind and rumble, as if we were in an earthquake, but I knew it was just another sign of the Archon's shock at having been fooled, as he realized I yet lived.

I shouted the charge again, and we dashed down a long, twisting corridor. Squads of soldiers came out of doorways, and arrows flashed past or found a target, spears clattered against stone walls as The Sarzana's guard tried to stop us, tried to rally, but couldn't, and the men died, were driven back into their cuddies or they died. Then the corridor ended, and the roof rose high, and we were in The Sarzana's throne room. The domed ceiling was a hundred feet above, the chamber was two hundred feet or more in diameter. The walls were hung with tapestries or battle standards, and there were flaring torches on the walls and a huge fire guttering down at one wall.

The room was empty save for my soldiers and, on a high-raised dais in the centre of the room, The Sarzana. That is all any of my women, or Cholla Yi and the handful of men who'd followed us down the corridor saw.

I saw more.

Standing above The Sarzana, looming like a puppeteer bestrides his marionettes, was the Archon! He was huge, maybe thirty feet, and I could see the stories of the far wall through his only partially-material body. His arms were coming up, to strike at me.

Corais was beside me, and her bow came up and was full drawn, broadhead against wood, her fingers holding steady beside her ear. She was as firm and calm as if she were at the butts, and then she loosed and the arrow sped true, straight for The Sarzana. His hand came out, and I swear it was moving as slowly as a fly in honey, but he plucked her shaft from midair, and snapped it between two fingers. As he did, I heard a crack and Corais's bow, the one that had been made so lovingly so long ago cracked like a twig or like the arrow The Sarzana now tossed aside.

We broke into a run, a desperate charge towards the dais as The Sarzana's right hand lifted, fingers curled like a snakehead, and green fire like I'd seen on the ship's masts during a storm flickered, and then gathered into a ball and flashed towards us. It sent Corais spinning. I thought she was dead, but then she rolled to her feet, her face bloodied as if she'd been beaten. Green fire flickered again on The Sarzana's hand, just as Corais drew her dagger, brushed its blade over the bit of robe she'd tied to her arm and threw. Corais was no magician, nor claimed any powers of the Evocator, but perhaps that talisman had gathered some of the hate she felt for being nearly shamed by The Sarzana.

Her cast was true, and thudded into The Sarzana's chest, just below his ribs. He screamed, a wailing agony like a gutted roebuck, then his scream became a cry of joy, a screech of Tm free!'

In that instant I felt the Archon depart.

The Sarzana plucked the dagger from his body and spun it away, back at Corais. The blade darted back towards us like a striking serpent, and took her in the chest. I don't know if The Sarzana was already dead, or if his great magical powers meant Corais's strike was but a flesh wound, nor did it matter. I was on the dais, sword slashing with all my rage and pain behind it. It struck The Sarzana full on the shoulder, beside his neck, and clove him nearly to the breastbone. Blood fountained, and he fell limply as I yanked my sword free.

But I took no chances, and as Ismet had, slashed and slashed once more and then cast his dripping heart into the dying fireplace. Perhaps I should've saved it for an icon but couldn't. Not with Corais's life still clinging to it. The flames took the wizard's heart and roared up and out, as if a barrel of oil had been poured on them. The room shimmered, as if seen in summer's heat, and once more the earth shuddered under my boots, and I heard a far-distant wailing as demons took The Sarzana's soul, or what had been a soul once, and this world would never know him again.

But I wasn't thinking that then, but was going to where Corais lay, her head pillowed on Polillo's knees.

Surprisingly, she still lived, although I could tell the Seeker would embrace her in minutes. She looked at me, tried to smile, but couldn't.

'I would've made a ... shitty ... old lady, anyway,' she said, then blood runnelled from her lips and she was gone.

Polillo looked at me. 'Magic killed her,' she said in a whisper only I could hear. 'Just as it shall take me.'

I got to my feet. Xia was beside me, but I didn't want any comfort from her at that moment.

I know we all have to die, and Corais, when she chose a soldier's life, chose a soldier's fate as well. And she had brought down The Sarzana. But just then I would've traded him, and everyone else in those damned Konyan islands, for Corais's return.

Twenty-Two

On Homeward Winds

In most lands the god of victory is gloriously winged, its face an image of fierce nobility. But the idol of victory ought to be a direwolf howling over its gutted prey. In battle, I've never found victory noble, much less sweet. Oh, there might be joy for a time - drunken boasting to one's mates about how you tricked and overcame a particularly canny enemy. But a soldier's joy soon rings hollow when she fully realizes it was only luck that left her standing; and how many of her comrades were deserted by luck that day.

There'd been other deaths, besides my Guardswomen. Phocas had been killed by an arrow launched by an unseen sniper as Cholla Yi's galley swept through the canals. Others included Captain Meduduth of our own force; Captain Yezo; Nor, who I prayed found some release in death; and many hundred Konyan soldiers and sailors whose names I didn't know. It would be many a year before this victory lost its mourning banners.

We limped back to Isolde, heroes all. Ships and small boats sailed out to greet us from every island we passed. Trumpets and horns hailed us. Hilltops were alive with Konyans cheering our return. But below-decks the wounded groaned; and on the decks the Evocators blessed corpse after corpse, and put a coin on their tongues to bribe mercy from the Seeker when he carried them to his lair. I spoke to no one, not even Gamelan, not even Xia; but only huddled in my bed mourning Corais and all the women I'd fed to the demons of war. There were fifty of us now. Fifty! Out of all the hundreds I'd set out with when we marched on Lycanth. I did not weep; I was too frozen with grief. When I awoke in the morning I waited long moments before I opened my eyes - praying that when I did, another nightmare would have passed and Corais would be looking down on me with that sardonic grin. I missed her. I miss her still. If there is life after this place, I pray we can march together again under the same banner.

Two nights out of Isolde, Xia crept into my arms. Our love-making was slow and bittersweet. Afterwards, we half-dozed in one another's arms listening to the booming seas. Just before dawn Xia turned to me and looked deep into my eyes. They'd aged - there was pain there, there was knowledge won at much cost.

'I love you, Rali,' she said. Before I could answer, she was gone.

I arose - not fresh, or even particularly cheerful - but I did feel somewhat healed. Also, mourning had been replaced by worry. A feeling of dread nagged at me, but of what, I couldn't say.

Gamelan was waiting for me in his cabin. 'I was about to send for you, Rali,' he said. 'I have need of you.'

'It's the Archon, isn't it?' I said, guessing immediately what was in his thoughts. 'He's not done with us, yet. Or we with him.'

'I'm not certain,' the wizard said. 'I've cast spells in every direction, and he doesn't seem to be about. Admittedly, my conjuring abilities are far from healed. Still, each spell I cast was blocked. No, not blocked - that would be like a wall. This was more like encountering a locked door. That in itself makes me worry.'

'How may I help?' I asked, setding by his side. 'What can I do that you cannot?'

'I believe there was - or is - a bond between you and the Archon,' he said. 'It's a bond of hate, to be sure; but there are no stronger chains than can be forged on those fires. Perhaps that bond began when your brother defied the Archons. There were all sorts of black spells about in those days, what with Greycloak and Raveline and the Archons burrowing into places few have dared to approach since the Ancients. Unwilling though he was, Amalric was at the centre of it. Then you came along, and once again an Antero is about when great forces are at work. I knew at Lycanth when Jinnah could not hold, much less cast the bones it was you, and only you to whom they spoke. Then you slew one of them, confirming the Archons' worst fears about the Anteros. Finally, when the last Archon cursed you with his dying breath - and then managed to defy death by fleeing into the ethers - that curse forged the strongest link of all.

'So, to answer your question, my friend - there is much you can do that I cannot. At least, I pray that is so. Perhaps it is Rali Emilie Antero who holds the key to that barred portal.'

'What would you have me do?' I asked.

'Find the Archon,' he said. He drew out the box containing the talisman heart.

I didn't argue, but the dread increased to heavy, throbbing pressure as I took the box from his hands.

'Hold it between your palms,' he said. 'Send your thoughts into it. You must focus as hard as you can. Do not speak, or cast about for words for a spell. I will say them for you.'

I swallowed, then said, 'Give me a moment to prepare myself.'

I breathed deeply, emptying my mind as best I could. I rolled my shoulders to loosen them, turned my head from side to side to stretch the muscles. Then I grasped the box firmly between my palms and drew in one last long breath. I whooshed it out.

'I'm ready,' I said.

And Gamelan began:

Cast wide the net

Mother Fate;

Haul in the catch

Thy daughter seeks;

East to the portals

Where the Old Gods wait;

And sit in judgment

Of he who hates.

I heard a thunderclap and the room darkened. The air became heavy and hot. I smelled sandalwood - my mother's scent. It was stronger than ever before. I heard a voice whisper: 'Rali.' It was my mother's voice and I wanted to weep, I loved her so, missed her so. Again she whispered my name and I felt her breath at my ear, delicate as a butterfly's wing. I shivered.

The box gave a hard lurch in my hands. I gripped it tighter. I saw a red glow burn through. It was the twin-headed lion symbol of the Archons. The lions bared their teeth, then shot away to hover against the far cabin wall. Then I heard a beast hiss and saw a great black panther crouching beneath them. Her teeth were bared in a snarl and her tail lashed furiously. The fiery red lion heads grew larger. Then a mighty body formed to carry them. They roared, heads snaking out on a thick single neck. But it only made the panther angrier. She hissed again and crouched lower to the deck, her claws scything out and her legs tensing to leap. Another thunderclap - and a dark hole opened behind the Archon's beast. The heads gave another roar and then the beast plunged through the hole. The panther sprang after them. My mother's voice whispered: 'Follow.'

Without warning I was in a maelstrom. I was failing from a great height through blackness and swirling lights. My ears were filled with the sounds of howling things, baying things, and things that shrieked in endless pain. I smelled sulphur and blood and fear-voided bowels. I was cold, so cold. Cold as a knife cut in winter seas. Cold as the Seeker's Rain that comes but once every hundred years and kills forest, field and folk. Then I was no longer falling, but running through fire-blackened woods. The trail was narrow and rock sharded and I nearly lost my footing when I stepped on a huge white worm slithering across the path. I was afraid, but I knew I was the pursuer - not the pursued. Ahead I saw the panther bounding around a turn and I ran faster still. As I ran I saw demons gibbering in leafless trees. I saw ravens feasting on wounded soldiers who cried out to me as I passed, 'Help me, help me, please.' But I couldn't stop, dare not stop, but only followed the panther racing along the trail.

I burst out of the dead forest onto a snow-covered, moonlit plain. The path became a ruined road and I had to leap over crumbling rock and blasted mounds of rubble. There was a battle raging on the plain. Warriors were flailing with swords and axes and the snow was littered with their corpses and stained red by their blood. In the distance I could see the panther; farther still, the Archon's beast. Framing them was the hump of a black mountain; lightning blasted in its peaks.

The road climbed that mountain; the gradient was steep, slippery with ice, and I was tiring. But the panther was beside me instead of in front of me; and she was urging me on. I forced myself forward and soon we were coming out of a pass. A black steel castle crouched where the road died. It looked like a demon's skull, with turrets for horns, battlements for brows, and a torch-lit gateway for a mouth. I saw the Archon's beast bolt through the gates, which began to swing closed behind it. The panther leaped ahead, but it was too late and the gates crashed shut. The panther screamed and fought at the bars. Its fury set my own blood to boil and I railed with it, gripping the iron work and shouting my battle-cry.

I saw the Archon. He was in the courtyard with the twin-headed beast at his side. This time he was no immense visage in a cloud, but man-sized. But he was no less fearful and when he saw me he jabbed a twisted finger at me and shouted: 'Begone!'

Fire blasted from that finger and struck the bars. I cried out in anger and pain as the hot iron seared my hands. I gripped harder, determined not to let go. I smelled my own flesh begin to burn and then someone close by shouted in my ear:

'Rali! Rali!' It was Gamelan.

I released the bars and fell back. Then I was in the cabin, still shouting defiance. The talisman box had fallen to the floor where I dropped it. The black husk of a heart lay next to it. Gamelan had an arm about me and was saying:

'It's all right, Rali. It's all right.'

I shuddered back to full awareness and said, 'I've returned, wizard.'

My left hand throbbed with pain. I opened it and burned on my palm was the Archon's brand - the twin-headed lion.

'Is he still with us?' Gamelan asked. 'Does the Archon still threaten?'

'Yes,' I said. 'He's here.'

After I told Gamelan all I'd seen, he said: 'This is extremely serious, my friend. The Archon has managed to create a base of power in one of the spirit worlds. He must have become very powerful, indeed.'

'But we just defeated him,' I said. 'He should be less powerful, not more.'

'Evil nurtures evil, Rali,' the wizard said. 'Greycloak unwittingly proved that. The Archon fed on all the spilled blood, all the terror, all the sorrow. The defeat only stopped him from devouring more. And when he ate The Sarzana's soul... Ah, that must have been equal to a hundred dead.'

'What do you think his purpose is?' I asked.

'That takes no soothsaying at all,' Gamelan said. 'I know my enemy. First, he wants revenge. He wants to destroy Orissa so not even its memory lingers. Second, he wants even greater power. To create a kingdom in this world. I don't believe Orissa, Lycanth and even the Far Kingdoms themselves would satisfy him. Think of a dark demi-god and you know what sort of creature we're dealing with.'

'How do we stop him?' I asked.

‘We must return to Orissa as quickly as possible,' he said. 'If all our Evocators act in concert we can defeat him.'

His tone was less certain than his words. But I'd worry about how well our Evocators would do when - and if - we reached home.

'About the panther,' he said. 'It worries me.'

'I assumed it was a good omen,' I said. 'It's undoubtedly the panther from the tale my mother told me. The one my namesake rode to help the villagers.'

'Yes, I know,' Gamelan said. 'Still ... when I held you ... just before you ... returned ... you screamed.'

'Yes,' I said. 'So?'

And the wizard said: 'You sounded just like a panther.'

In Isolde, the entire island turned out for our return. The sea was so full of welcoming boats and ships it was difficult to navigate the bay. Crowds lined the embankment and the streets that led to the docks. Every instrument, every horn, drum, fife, and even pots and pans were employed in joyous noise-making. The city had been scoured clean and banners and flags fluttered from every high place. Bonfires burned jn crackling profusion and the people fed a royal fortune's worth of incense in those fires to perfume the air. Thousands upon thousands of flowers were strewn in our path as we marched off the ships and up the terraced hill to carry official news of our victory to the Lords of the Konyans. First in line were all the Konyan officers who'd survived. Then came me and my women, and Cholla Yi and his men. Princess Xia chose to march at my side and the already hysterical crowd wept when they saw her, and prostrated themselves, calling out her name.

When we reached the Palace of the Monarchs we stood for hours while each member of the Council of Purity - their voices magnified by the wizards - praised us and hailed our victory. Finally, the crowd grew unruly and demanded Princess Xia and I mount the stage so they could see us. They screamed when we did and I saw men and women alike collapse, they were so overcome.

When they finally wore down, Lord Kanara tugged at my sleeve, motioning. Princess Xia and I slipped away with him. Once in the palace, he led us to a small, richly decorated room. There was a table set with food and drink. He motioned for us to partake. Both of us shook our heads - we were too tired.

'But I'll have a little brandy, Father, if you please,' Xia said.

I said I'd like the same. Lord Kanara filled crystal goblets for us, and another for himself. He sat down and we did the same.

'My daughter,' Kanara said, 'you have made me very proud.' . Xia bowed her head, humble. 'I only did my duty, Father,' she said. But I could see from the look in her eye the humility was an act.

'Just the same,' her father said. 'It was a great thing. You have written your name large in our history, my girl.'

I saw Xia shudder when he addressed her as a girl. But she said: 'There were others much braver than I, Father. But thank you just the same.'

'There will be many honours bestowed on you,' he said. 'Some, it shall be my pleasure to grant with my own hands.'

Xia smiled modestly. 'Thank you, Father,' she said. And she sounded most sincere. But again I caught that look, and I swear she seemed to be measuring her father. I believe she found him smaller than she once thought.

'And you, Captain Antero ,' Kanara said. 'We owe you much.'

'I only ask help with charts and good advice on how we can return home.'

'You shall have it,' Kanara said. 'The charts have already been prepared. The counsel of best seafarers is at your disposal.' 'Thank you, Lord Kanara,' I said.

'We also intend a greater reward,' he said. 'We have agreed your ships will be filled with all the treasure they can hold. When you return home even your lowest sailor shall be rich.'

Once again I thanked him. And he said, 'Is there anything else? Any wish we might grant that has not been anticipated?'

I looked at Xia. But I didn't need to see her frown not to ask for the first thing that leaped into my mind. So, I asked him the second.

'I would beg you to pardon all the men and women in your dungeons, Lord,' I said. If you recall, I was your... guest... there. And I met and befriended many of their inhabitants.'

Kanara frowned, and when he did so he looked remarkably like his daughter. Then he smiled. 'It shall be done,' he said. He drank his brandy. I could tell he was gathering himself for something else.

Finally: 'Now, I have a request o(you, Captain,' he said.

'If it is within my power,' I said, 'I shall do anything you ask.'

'All of you Orissans must leave at once,' he said. 'And leave quietly.'

'Father!' Princess Xia said, shocked. 'How could you—' I raised a hand. 'It's all right, your ladyship,' I said. 'I take no offence.' Then I turned to her father. 'You still fear The Sarzana,' I said. 'Or, at least the curse that has been foretold for she who killed him.'

'I think it's a lot of superstitious nonsense,' Kanara said. 'But others do not. They take it quite seriously. They are afraid of what will happen if you tarry long.'

'Then I shall go as quickly as possible,' I said. 'Besides, I have reasons of my own to get home as swiftly as I can.'

Lord Kanara relaxed, quite relieved. He raised his brandy and made a toast: 'To Orissa,' he said. 'May the gods bless her for sending her daughters to us in our time of need.'

'To Orissa,' I echoed.

As I drank a feeling of great longing for the city by the river overcame me. Without asking, I refilled my goblet and drank again.

The following night I saw Princess Xia for the last time. She came to my villa and we walked quiedy in the garden, enjoying the silence and the smell of the blooming hyacinth. Down in the harbour we heard a lyre playing an old sweet melody of love gained and lost. We embraced and I kissed her. Her lips were soft - heady as wine. I drew back, feeling her nipples stir against my breasts. I looked deep into those dark eyes, and at her hair, with its golden tiara glowing in the moonlight. 'I'll miss you,' I said.

She pulled away, disturbed. 'And I you,' she said.

She walked to the fountain and sat. I rested a boot on the rock facing and waited. 'I suppose it's just as well that you're going,' she said.

'That has the sound of someone with plans,' I said. 'Plans my presence might interfere with.'

She nodded. 'A lot of things have become much clearer to me, lately,' she said. 'I have you - and the example of your Guardswomen - to thank.'

I said nothing. She raised her head and looked at me. Her face was a perfect subject for a royal portrait, complete with a gleaming tiara on her head.

'I want you to know this,' she said. 'In a few years, if any of your people wish to open trade with Konya, they will be welcome. This I promise.'

'Is that an influential brat I hear speaking,' I said. 'Or a future queen?'

She laughed. But there was no real humour in it. It was forced, such as when royalty laughs to show it's a good fellow; as able to take a jest as any of us commoners.

Then she said, archly: 'You've guessed my secret, oh wise Captain.'

'That you'll be Queen?' I said with a smile. 'No wisdom in seeing that. I think I've known it all along. You'll make a good queen. I'd lay money on that. But what about your father?'

'It shouldn't be too difficult to convince him to support me,' she said. 'And if he is ... reasonable ... Well, we shall see. We shall see ...' She left the remainder of the threat in its sheath. I pitied her father if he stood in her way.

'One other thing, Rali,' she said. 'I hope this doesn't hurt you ... I'd never want to cause you pain. But if you should ever take it in your head to return ... please don't.'

'The Sarzana's curse?' I said, knowing that wasn't the reason. But I wanted her to say it.

'I'm my father's daughter in that,' she said. 'Pure nonsense. However, my plans require that I eventually marry. I'll need a consort to father children. The Kanara line must be continued.'

'I can see where I'd get in the way,' I said.

She rose from the fountain and took my hand. Her breathing was suddenly heavy. Lust glittered in her eyes.

'I want you, now, Rali!' she said. 'Please!’

And I said, harsh: 'Take off the crown!'

My words startled her. She hesitated, then nodded. Her hands lifted the tiara free of her curls and she handed it to me. I threw it in the fountain and swept her up into my arms and carried her up the stairs to my bed.

Just as dawn broke she wept. 'Oh, Rali,' she wailed. 'I'm so sorry.' It was a long, bone-shuddering fit of tears such as I've rarely seen.

'Don't, my love,' I said. 'I'll be fine. I'll never forget you... but I'll be fine.'

She looked at me, tears flooding from those beautiful eyes. 'I'm not crying for you, Rali,' she sobbed. 'I'm crying for me.'

We set sail in a heavy rainstorm and there was no one on the docks or the hills to say farewell. But the seven ships that were all that was left of our fleet sat low in the water, heavy with golden coin and other riches. However, the greater gift was the charts in Cholla Yi's stateroom, which the Konyan map-makers and wizards had laboured on so we could find our way home.

I'd redisposed my women. There was only a handful left, and I'd gathered them under my command on Stryker's galley. I couldn't chance letting them be dispersed on all seven ships, since I still had no trust in the mercenaries, particularly now, with gold in their purses. I also wanted them close at hand - the butchery had sickened all of us, and it would be best if the Maranon Guard licked its wounds together as it always had.

The rain was cold and made a miserable parting from those enchanting isles, but the east winds blew steady and strong, carrying us swiftly towards Orissa. The rain and wind were unrelenting, but there was no danger in them and those of us not engaged in sailing fell into a stuporous routine of eating and dreamless sleep. This way many days went by with so little incident that we barely noted them and before we knew it, we were near the straits the Konyans had marked that would carry us around the fiery reefs.

It was as grey and windy a day as all the others. Visibility was poor, but far to the north there was an eerie glow in the sky and we could hear the distant rumbling of the volcanoes. As predicted, there was land to the south. We'd been advised to hug its shores to make certain we'd avoid the northern reefs. But we'd also been warned not to tarry long - the Konyan wizards said the spells they'd cast to help chart the course encountered much evil in that land. Warily, we crept through the straits, ship by ship, and although we saw nothing all of us felt a sense of dread. When my ship passed the narrowest part of the passage my hackles rose as if I were being watched by many eyes. Just at the edge of my vision I thought I saw the panther crouching low on the deck - teeth bared, tail lashing. But when I turned to look, it was gone.

With much relief we made it through without incident. But we stretched sail with haste and flew from that place as fast as we could. That night the skies cleared and we were treated to the sight of more familiar stars. The next day dawned bright and balmy, and although we still had a long way to go, we all felt that now, we were truly going home.

Some days later I went to Cholla Yi's ship for a conference. Although we'd sailed these waters before, they were still generally unknown to us and with our fleet so pared down I thought we ought to be prepared for pirates. There was a small gig tied up beside the gangway. Cholla Yi was having another visitor besides myself. I ordered my boatmen to tie up to the gig, and stay in the boat to keep it from swamping as it was towed along by the galley.

I boarded as the watch was changing and as proof that we'd perhaps become too unwary, no one hailed my coming. The officer in charge seemed startled when he saw me and saluted. I returned the salute, and when he started to escort me to Cholla Yi's cabin, I told him to stay.

' 'I'd do a little lookout skinning if I were you,' I said. 'If they missed me, who else aren't they going to see?' He muttered an apology and I made my own way along the deck.

I hesitated at the door when I heard the unmistakable rattle of a dice cup, then the throw. Someone cursed at the result. It was Stryker, who must've come over from our galley without my noticing his departure.

'I ain't never seen such luck! If'n we wasn't usin' my dice, I'd ask to check if'n they'd been shaved.'

Cholla Yi laughed. 'That's six straight passes. Want to put up the rest of your share to see if I can make it seven?'

I smiled. With all the riches on board, Cholla Yi still wasn't satisfied with a share that would please a prince. He was bus}' skinning his own men for more. He gave new meaning to the phrase 'pirate's greed'.

Stryker forced a return laugh. 'What'd yer go 'n do, Admiral? Make a bargain with a demon?'

Cholla Yi's voice hardened. 'What are you accusing me of?'

Stryker was instandy contrite. 'Nothin'. Nothin' t'all, Admiral. I was only cursin' yer infernal good luck.'

Cholla Yi relented, chuckling. 'You're as bad with a dice cup as you are with a bow. I remember a time when you had a good clean shot, wind just right, and everybody too busy keeping their skin together to notice what you were up to. And then you go and miss.'

And Stryker said: 'Weren't my fault. And weren't that easy. Deck was pitchin' somethin' fierce. Had half a dozen devils a'ter me hide.

Sides, we're talkin' luck nobody could match. I mean, yer luck's nothin' next to—'

Watch your tongue,' Cholla Yi cut in. 'On a ship you never know who might be listening.'

I flushed as the bolt inadvertendy hit a guilty target. Wondering if the poor bastard they were referring to ultimately escaped with his life, I knocked.

'Come in,' Cholla Yi barked.

When they saw me both men flushed and rose quickly to their feet. I nearly laughed. On this ship, guilt was as contagious as a summer chill.

Cholla Yi stammered a greeting: 'I ... uh ... it's ... uh ... a pleasure to see you, Captain Antero. Strvker and I were... uh... just ... uh ...'

'Havin' a bit of a game,' Stryker broke in, coming to his admiral's rescue. 'Course, he's takin' more'n a bit outter me, if yer knows what I mean ... har, har, har.'

They were acting like schoolboys caught doing something naughty, rather than studying. Now I did laugh.

'Gendemen, please!' I said. 'I'm no stiff-backed prude. In fact, I've been known to shake a dice cup or two to pass the time.'

Both men chuckled, but the sound was hollow.

'What can I do for you, Captain?' Cholla Yi asked.

'I thought we might discuss security, Admiral,' I said. 'These waters have an unfriendly look.'

'Good thought,' Cholla Yi said. He shot Stryker a look that snapped him to attention and the rogue quickly made himself scarce.

Cholla Yi and I got down to business over goblets of brandy. He was quick to agree to my suggestions, and soon we were done. Then he refilled our goblets and raised his in salute. 'We've had a good run, Captain,' he said. 'I'm almost sorry to see it coming to an end.'

I returned the toast, then drank. I said: 'It certainly hasn't turned out the way General Jinnah expected, has it?'

Cholla Yi's face darkened. 'What's your point?' he snapped.

I was surprised by his tone. 'Why, nothing to take offence at,' I said. 'I thought it obvious that Jinnah was only trying to get me out of the way so he didn't have to share credit. He never intended, much less envisioned our success.'

'Jinnah cheated me and my men out of our rightful shares of the spoils, is what he did,' Cholla Yi snarled. For some reason his old resentments had flown back to roost.

'You'll have the last laugh, then,' I said. 'We're loaded to the gunwales with gold. Much more than would've been yours if we'd stayed.'

But Cholla Yi would not be calmed. 'I started out with fifteen good ships of the line,' he said. 'Now I have seven, and they're so beaten up they're worthless. That's not right, I tell you. I was cheated.'

I didn't point out that a mere handful of the Konyan baubles that were his due would replace his lost ships - and more. With so little time left in our voyage, I wanted a happy pirate to sail with. No sense jeopardizing things when we were so close.

'I'll see it's all made right by you,' I promised. 'If it comes down to it, I'll pay for it out of my share.'

'So you think it's just money I'm after, is that it?' Cholla Yi snarled. 'What about respect? Pay me off and you've seen the last of me, huh? When they need me, it's Admiral this, and Admiral that, and why don't you go off and die for our cause, sir? But when the war's done, me and my lads are nothing more than common villains in their view.'

I'd had enough. He seemed to care little about keeping the peace between us. 'You've reminded me many a time, sir, that you are a mercenary. That gold is the only banner you sail for. Fine by me. I've found you gold aplenty. You also have my respect - as a fighter - if that counts for anything. But as for the rest - why that's the life you've chosen for yourself, my friend.'

I swept the dice into the cup and shook. 'If you don't like the toss, you have only yourself to blame.'

I upended the cup. Cholla Yi reflexively glanced down. He gasped. I looked for myself and saw seven pips - Fortune's favourite - staring up.

Cholla Yi seemed pale, shaken. He gulped brandy. Then he said: 'Forgive my temper, Captain Antero.' He rubbed his forehead. 'I've not slept well of late. And my head has been throbbing so fiercely I'd like to rip it off.'

I didn't care, but I didn't want to sound unfeeling. 'I'm sorry, myself,' I said. 'I should have seen you weren't well. Is there anything I can do? Perhaps an elixir from our wizard?'

Cholla Yi shook his head - a firm no. Then he smiled, turning on his roguish charm. 'This is all the elixir I need,' he said, indicating the brandy. He upended the goblet, then wiped his beard. 'I'll see to the defence arrangements we discussed,' he said, and the interview was at an end. We chatted a few minutes more and then parted company.

Just outside I heard the dice cup rattle, then the clatter of the toss. Cholla Yi cursed. The result must not have been good.

What this all signified, I didn't know.

Polillo mourned Corais even more deeply than I. They'd been constant companions for so many years it was hard to imagine one without the other. They were as different in temperament as in colouring and size, but each complemented the other. Polillo gave Corais strength and bull-headed courage; while Corais offered speed, and sharp-witted cunning. Together they made fearsome adversaries to anyone foolish enough to go up against them on a battlefield, or in a tavern fight. Polillo didn't mope about or weep after Corais died. Instead, she threw herself into her work, constantly drilling the women, teaching them new fighting tricks she'd thought up, or just holding their hands and there-there-ing them when their own troubles spilled over. She'd changed in other ways as well.

One day in practice, as she was dodging the thrust of a wooden sword, I saw her trip over one of the sailors who'd moved too close to watch all the jouncing feminine flesh.

In pain, he pushed at her, shouting, 'Get off me, you great cow!'

The deck went to instant hush. Polillo climbed slowly to her feet. She loomed over the sailor, who'd gone white as death itself.

'What did you call me, little man?' Polillo demanded.

The sailor gulped. I knew he was cursing the demons who'd seized command of his tongue.

I also remembered a man who'd made a similar insult at a dockside tavern in Orissa. We'd been peacefully drinking and wenching and the man had taken offence because the innkeeper's daughter preferred Polillo's company to his. So he'd hit Polillo from behind with a chair, shouting, 'Take that, you cow!' Polillo is sensitive about her ample endowments. She took offence. Before we knew it, she'd caught the man and had crushed his face against her breasts, shouting, 'Moo, Moo, you bastard,' as she smothered him. If Corais hadn't intervened she'd have killed him for sure.

I had visions of the same thing happening here and started to step forward. But, to my amazement, Polillo suddenly grinned, and reached down and ruffled the poor sailor's hair. Then she sniffed at him, wrinkling her nose.

'Pissed your breeches, didn't you?' she said.

The man only bobbed his head.

'Better go wash off,' she advised. 'Nothing worse than a piss rash.'

As she turned away, the sailor keeled over in a dead faint.

'Buy you a drink, beautiful?' I said as she dusted off her tunic.

'Best offer I've had all day,' she said, looping her arm through mine as we adjourned to my quarters to sample a pale Konyan liquor that had a kick like a warhorse.

'That was an impressive display of mercy,' I said, after we'd settled into serious drinking.

Polillo shrugged. 'Corais always said my hot temper was my worst fault,' she said. 'Now that's she's gone I have to keep a lid on it myself.' Her eyes misted. 'I guess I depended on her for a lot of things,' she said. 'I'm such a moody bitch. Don't know how she put up with me.' She gave an angry swipe at a tear.

'She loved you, Polillo,' I said. 'We all do. And as for your moods, I've always thought they came hand in hand with the great gifts the gods gave you so you wouldn't be too perfect.'

She snorted. 'Gifts? I'm big and I'm ugly. What kind of gifts are those?'

I was shocked. 'Ugly?' I said. 'Why, Polillo, there isn't a woman in the world who wouldn't be jealous of your looks.'

This was true. As I've said before, Polillo was perfectly formed. Not one ounce of fat spoiled the curve of her figure. Her legs were as graceful as a dancer's, and her face, with those huge, glowing eyes, would make the greatest limner itch for paint and linen.

'I don't break mirrors, at least,' she grudged. 'But you have to admit I'm of freakish size and strength.'

'You've been blessed with the strength of heroes, not freaks,' I said. 'And some day, when these times are nothing but distant memories, songs will be sung about you, my dearest friend. The ode-makers will tell the tale of the beautiful woman who had the strength of ten big men. You might as well face it. You were born to be a woman of legend.'

Polillo giggled. 'With a bitch of a temper,' she said.

'With a bitch of a temper,' I agreed.

She took a pull on her drink. 'I guess in my time I have cracked a few noggins that needed cracking,' she allowed.

'Undoubtedly,' I said.

'Beginning with my father,' she said.

'You've told me he was a bastard,' I said. 'But you never said why. He was some kind of innkeeper, wasn't her?'

Polillo nodded. 'Part innkeeper, part blacksmith, and all horse's ass. He was a big, strong son of a poxed whore. And if you ever met his mother, you'd know that wasn't an idle insult. My father had a black hole of an inn at the crossroads of our village. Had a forge out back to shoe travellers' horses and such. He drank most of the profits and kept us all in rags and bruises until I got some size. Sometimes I think that's why I grew so big. Ever since I can remember he was beating us. Splintered my older brother's arm - and he was such a sweet thing, a gentle soul, it'd break your heart. My mother was always going about with a limp and blackened eyes. He made me so mad that I went after him in his bed with a poker when I was six. He beat the devil out of me, he did. Hurt like the blazes, but I wouldn't cry. Not for him. I decided right then I was going to get so big and strong that he'd be afraid to touch any of us. I started lifting things ... anything heavy. And running and wrestling. When I was ten I could just manage his anvil. So I waited. But weeks went by before he acted up again. Nearly drove me crazy, waiting. I started worrying that maybe he'd seen the error of his ways. I hated him so much that I prayed he hadn't. That's how badly I wanted to hurt him. But I needed an excuse.'

'And he finally gave you one?' I asked.

Polillo gave me a mirthless grin. 'Does a dog favour carrion? Sure, he did. He went after my mother. And I stopped him cold.' She slammed one big fist into the other. I winced at the bone-breaking sound of it. 'One punch. Smashed his ugly jaw. There were teeth all over the place. Even in the soup. Then I drove him out and told my mother that from now on, the tavern was hers.'

'You never saw him again?'

Polillo laughed. 'Never. How could he show his face with everyone knowing his ten-year-old daughter had flattened him? That's the nice thing about male pride. Once broken, never mended.'

'Like the sailor who pissed his breeches?' I asked.

Polillo grimaced. 'Oh, he's not such a bad sort. I've seen him working - and he puts his back in more'n most of the others. And he's not bad in a fight, either. I just surprised him, that's all. He didn't mean to insult me. It just burst out. When I was looking down at him, I thought, Polillo, old girl. How many times have you got yourself in a fix by opening your big mouth when you shouldn't' And then I thought, Corais'd be really angry with me if I killed him. So I didn't.'

She started to take another drink, then stopped. Her brow furrowed in worry. 'You don't suppose people will think I've gone soft, or anything, do you?'

'Do you care?' I asked.

She thought a moment, then: 'Not really.'

As soon as she realized what she'd said, the most marvellous smile lit her features. 'Corais'd really be proud of me, wouldn't she?'

'She would, indeed, my dear,' I said.

After that we spent a wondrous night drinking and giggling and telling lies, just like in the old days, when we were young and guildess and our hopes as bright as the untested steel of our swords.

As we raced east I began making sure I was up before dawn every morning to see the daybreak. It's a sight I never tire of - especially when that pale pink spills across the sky like sugared rosewater. Gamelan had the old man's habit of rising early, so he'd join me and I'd describe the view as he fished.

'When I was a boy I favoured sunsets,' he said one day. 'All the day's petty disappointments vanished and the glow of the skies seemed to speak of the fresh possibilities of the morrow. But when I became old, the setting sun seemed so ... well, final, dammit! You don't know if there's even going to be a tomorrow. With a sunrise you can lie to yourself that your future stretches to at least the end of the day.'

'But, you're a wizard,' I said. 'Don't wizards sense their own departure? I'd think with the Seeker about, a wizard would know it'

Gamelan laughed. 'The only wizard I've met who successfully predicted his demise was my old master. But then he swore at the end of every day that we thick-witted acolytes were going to be the death of him. And, guess what* That moment eventually arrived when he was ninety-two.'

'You'll oudive him, my friend,' I said. 'You'd better not disappoint me. I'll speak harshly to you if you do.'

Instead of polite laughter at my mild attempt at humour, Gamelan turned serious.

'I dreamed about the panther last night,' he said.

'Oh?'

'It was nothing noteworthy,' the wizard continued. 'In my dream she was in my cabin and wanted out. She was most anxious - pacing up and down. But when I went to the door - I'm sighted in my dreams, you know -1 couldn't lift the bar. I called for help, but no one heard me.'

'Then?'

'That was all,' Gamelan said. 'I woke up.' Then he asked: 'Have you dreamed of the panther, Rali?'

I said, 'I haven't dreamed at all. Not since - since I had the vision about the Archon, and first encountered the panther.'

'Do you normally dream?' he asked.

'I always do,' I said. 'Even when I don't remember what it was about, I wake up knowing I've dreamed.' Gamelan sighed and shook his head. 'Does it mean anything?' I asked.

'I don't know, Rali,' he said. 'Greycloak speculated that dreams might be real. That when you dream you're actually in another world. And that world is exactly like your native place, but with some small detail - or even a large one - that is different. Which, as you experience it, becomes the subject of the dream.'

'That damned Janos never did shut up about anything,' I snarled. 'Why does everything have to be weighed or measured down to the smallest detail? Why can't our dreams just be dreams and to hell with it?'

'Still,' the wizard said, 'there could be something to it. And I was only wondering because of the panther. You've said you've imagined you've seen her sometimes.'

'Just at the edge of my vision,' I said. 'And always in the shadows. Probably my imagination.'

'Yes,' Gamelan said. 'I suppose it is.'

That night I tried to force a dream. I thought of Xia - built her image until she seemed almost alive. Then, just as I drifted off, I tried to hold onto that image. It slipped away as soon as I closed my eyes. I roused myself and tried again, with the same result. I attempted fixing other images, both pleasant and the opposite, but no matter how hard I concentrated, they fled as soon as I began to drop off. Then I couldn't sleep at all, tossing and turning and growing hot and cold by turn.

And the whole time I thought I could hear the scrape of a large animal's claws. I knew it was the panther - pacing, pacing, pacing.

Finally I went on deck. The night was quiet, the seas calm. I went to Gamelan's cabin and pressed my ear against the door. I could hear the click of claws inside.

I tugged at the latch string. It was stuck. I pulled harder, and the bar lifted. I carefully opened the door. The wizard was sleeping peacefully.

I felt a hot rush of air and I stepped back as something pushed past, me. It had no form, in fact, I couldn't swear there was anything there at all. But I distinctly felt fur brush my skin and smelled the powerful odour of a big cat. I looked around and didn't see anything. I checked Gamelan again, then shut the door and returned to my bed. Instandy, I fell asleep.

I dreamed that night. I dreamed of the black panther. She was speeding through a great forest and I was riding on her back.

Twenty-Three

The Demon Seas

As the days passed, the wind held true from the west or west-southwest, carrying us steadily into what the maps said would be home waters and eventually to Orissa.

The weather continued balmy, and the tensions of our long chase began to ebb, and our ships could almost be described as happy. My women sat yarning, trying to figure out what they'd do with all their riches, even after the city of Orissa and the Evocators took their legal shares. Two of them even sought me out, and wondered, oh so carefully, if someone as honey-tongued as I might consider appearing before the Council and asking for a boon - since so many of us had given our all for the city, the least Orissa could do was forswear its unearned portion of our gold. I gave them both the same answer: greed ill becomes a soldier. One, Pamphylia, said impudently that fighting for gold didn't seem to slow the sword-hand of Cholla Yi or his men. She'd obviously been around Gamelan too long, and he'd tolerated her flippery. I told her to report to Flag Sergeant Ismet and ask for a particularly smelly task of Ismet's choice that suited insubordination. Secretly, though, I was a bit pleased my women still had spirit left, after the long death-lists and months of hardship.

The other, Gerasa, had the same request, but when I answered as I had to Pamphylia she looked at me intendy and, after asking my permission to speak, wondered what made me think she had any intent of remaining in the Guard once we returned.

I made no response to that, but dismissed her after saying the law was the law, and it wasn't for her, or me, to question what Orissa did with its gold.

She'd made me wonder, though. I'd never thought much about the future, I realized. I always assumed I'd soldier on with the Guard, eventually be given a medal, a wine-drenched banquet and promoted to a distinctly honorary, since I was a woman, generalship and retire to my family's estates. Either that or, more likely, fall in some nameless border skirmish. I'd never much thought of a life beyond the Guard. It had been my mother, father, lover and home since I was a girl, as much or sometimes more than anyone named Antero, Otara or even Tries, as much as I loved them all.

I tried to set those thoughts aside - it isn't healthy for a soldier to think about the future, because while she's walking her post, dreaming of warm taverns and supple bed partners to come, it's most likely someone with eyes only on today is slipping up behind her with a bared dagger. But it didn't work.

Besides, I knew very well what would come next. We still had the Archon to deal with. My first duty when I returned home would be to join Gamelan before the Magistrates and Evocators and tell them what we feared.

All this made me somewhat bleak, although I tried not to show it. My sleep was uneasy, and I woke often. I was hot, then cold. I know I dreamed, and the dreams were not pleasant, but I couldn't remember them when I woke.

One of those nightmares saved my life.

I'd lurched awake, sitting upright in my hammock, trying to come fully alert, my body wanting me to lie back, and I was resisting, knowing if I didn't get up, pace about and collect my wits I'd return to that awful dream, whatever it had been. I vaguely knew it wasn't far from dawn. Over the creaking of the ship's beams, and the rush of the sea beyond them, I heard a low rustling, as if someone were trying the slipstring of my door latch. The door opened, and a shadow oudined itself and came forward, sliding across the deck towards me. From its dark bulk emerged an arm, holding a weapon, a long double-edged dagger, and the knife plunged down towards where I lay.

Except I wasn't there.

Before my assassin could grunt surprise I came up from where I'd knelt in the sheltering darkness and was on him, casting my thrown-off blanket like a fisherman's net, letting it wrap around his body, and then I spun in a full circle, snapping my leg up to waist-height as I did. Like a club it struck the man in the midsection, and sent him sprawling.

I dove after him, both of us blind in the darkness, but my muscles and my fists had eyes given them by endless hours of practice, and I hit with the heel of my hand once against his forehead, hammering his head back against the deck, my backhand struck his temple and then I caught myself before I launched the deathstroke into the softness of his throat. The man gargled pain, sagged and I was off him, and to the gimballed lantern. I flipped its cover open, blew on the punk that smouldered inside until a flame grew, twisted the valve and let oil feed the flame. I thought of shouting the Guard up, but decided to wait a moment. My attacker was forcing himself up on his hands, trying to shake off his befuddlement. I swept up his dagger, knelt and yanked his head back by the hair. It was Stryker.

His eyes unglazed, and stared at the blade I held just beyond his chin.

'Your idea? Or Cholla Yi's?' I demanded.

His lips clamped shut. I drew the blade's edge across the side of his neck, and blood oozed.

'Cholla Yi,' I said, knowing if it had just been some piece of insane rage from Stryker he would've instantly pleaded for an appeal to his superior. 'Why?'

Stryker clamped his lips stubbornly, and I started to cut him again.

'You're leadin' us t' our doom,' he said hastily. 'There's somethin' waitin' out there. Cholla Yi said he c'd feel it, an' I c'n feel somethin' too. An' I know what it is.'

'The Archon?'

'Now ain't you th' smart one,' he said.

'What'll killing me get you?'

Stryker looked cunning, and once again I cut him.

'Talk, man,' I said. 'Or I'll hail Polillo in with her axe, and let her trim your fingers one by one until you do.'

'So what?' Stryker said. 'You'll be killin' me anyways.'

'Now's for certain,' I said. 'A minute, or an hour... that's maybe. What would my death bring?'

'C'n I sit up?'

'You'll talk as you are. Or bleed as you lie.'

'Cholla Yi fin'y told me what was happenin'. Tol’ me he's been havin' visions. Like he was an Evoc'tor. Said th' Archon come to him, e'en though he di'n't see any face or form, but it hadda be him. Said th' chase wa'n't over, an' there'd be no way we c'd come safe to Orissa wi' his spells opposin' us, an' y'r damned Mag'strates'd ne'er pay what they owes us anyway. He said those who're wi' him now'll be remembered long, an' those who stand 'gainst him'll be ripped by demons f r all 'ternity.'

'And you ... or Cholla Yi believed theArchon!’

'I know it don't sound like there's sense to it,' Stryker said, 'but Cholla Yi says we ain't got no choice when a wizard like him- talks. 'Specially when he makes promises, an' says he'll be needin' men, real live men, t' help him get his throne back. Throne an' more.

'Now he's got th' real power, Cholla Yi told me. That spell I heard you an' that damn' Gamelan whisperin' T)out some time ago, when you thought no one was about.

'Looks to me like th' Archon ain't far from bein' a god,' Stryker went on. 'Man don't stand 'gainst gods. Best you c'n do is try to make accommodation with 'em. Maybe serve 'em well, an' hope t' get some of th' loot they ain't gonna be wantin'.'

Stryker grimaced. 'Guess I shoulda known, when I cast death's eyes, back gamin' aboard Cholla Yi's ship, all 'cause you was in th' ofBn'. Since I first signed on wi' Cholla Yi, weren't for bad luck, I wouldn't a had none at all.

'E'en back th' first time we come on th' Archon, I shoulda knowed I was cursed, when I tried to end matters like I was s'posed to. Back 'fore th' volcanoes went an' spat us out int' these waters.'

'What does that mean?'

'I'll tell you. Might's well give you all, an' hope that weighs th' scales. When you an' that black bitch went 'cross t' th' Archon's ship, an' up th' foremast?'

It came to me most clear, and I gasped, and without realizing it slid back, away from Stryker, until I was kneeling about a yard away. I remembered when Ismet and I had clambered to the foretop of the Archon's ship, and an arrow had plunged between us and sliced Ismet's arm, a shaft from an archer neither of us could spot. Of course we couldn't have seen him below, for that arrow could only have come from our own galley.

'I remember,' I said. Stryker pushed himself up into a sitting position. His fingers touched the blood on either side of his neck, and he winced. 'You shot that arrow?'

'I did. An' missed. Damn near took out th' black bitch, tho', which wouldn't've been all bad.'

'Cholla Yi ordered it?'

'Nobody ordered nothin',' Stryker said. 'Cholla Yi jus' told me that Gen'ral Jinnah made it clear that you was his worst enemy, an' when we come back, he'd be sittin' high in th' Magistrates' Council, an' if he didn't have th' bother of dealin' with you, our accounts'd be settled faster an' better and we was more'n capable of dealin' wi' th' Archon ourselves back then, afore he got all his powers.'

'Fools and gods-cursed fools! Why d'you not try again until now?' I asked.

"Cause I ain't a pure idjiot. A'ter we come over those reefs, int' unknown waters, I figgered, as did Cholla Yi, we'd need all th' swords we c'd muster. He said it'd be time t' worry about Orissa an' Jinnah an' shit like that when, an' if, we closed on their shores agin.'

'You're both a pair of stupid bastards,' I said. 'You believed the Archon would find a place for you? Look at The Sarzana. He thought he could cast the dice with him, too. I've never seen ...' I broke off, realizing I was about to sound like a fool myself. Of course the Archon's spirit, or demon, or whatever it was, wouldn't have tried to work his wooings without casting a spell of persuasion and belief like some golden cloud around these two scoundrels.

'All right,' I began. 'We'll deal with matters as they occur. First you, then Cholla Yi.'

I did not know what I intended doing with Stryker just then, and had only turned my mind to considering it. But the ship's captain mistook my words, and thought his fate was determined. I hadn't noticed he'd slid his legs back under him, and now he sprang straight for me, one hand grabbing for my knifehand, the other for my eyes.

But again my muscles spoke for me, and I went down, flat on my back, the sharp fang of the dagger sticking up, free hand bracing it, and Stryker impaled himself on his own blade. Blood poured over me, and he moaned shrilly, stiffened and died. I rolled from under his bulk, and was on my feet, dropping my tunic over my shoulders and grabbing for my weapons belt. I burst out of the door into the lower deck, shouting for the Guard to turn out, turn out, and as my women floundered into wakefulness I raced up the companionway, onto the main-deck and the beginnings of dawn, my blade whipping out of its sheath.

Seventy feet away, Cholla Yi's flagship bore down on us, armed men in its forepeak, gangplanks rigged for boarding. In the forepeak was Cholla Yi himself, in full armour. He saw me, yet alive, and screeched rage. Behind him came two other ships - one was Kidai's, I didn't remember the captain of the other. Evidently he thought he only needed those three to kill us, or else hadn't been able to convince ¹ the officers of the other ships to mutiny.

My women poured on deck, pulling on their helmets and buckling their armour. Among them were Stryker's seamen, bewildered by these events. Evidently Cholla Yi, experienced at treachery, had known enough to conspire with as few as necessary. If I'd been murdered below, there would've been time enough for Stryker to rouse his men against my women. But now ...

'Kill them!' Cholla Yi was shouting. 'Kill the bitches! Kill them all! They're in league with the Archon!'

A few sailors looked at us... and then at the ready-racks of swords.

'Any man who moves against us will die!' I shouted in return. 'Cholla Yi's the traitor!' I swore at myself - all I was doing was adding to the confusion, and changed my tactics: 'All sailors, fall below! Now! Or you'll die! Stay out of this!'

Some started moving towards the companionways, others were motionless, still amazed. Duban must've been told something, because he snatched a dagger from his belt. Before he could find a target Ismet cut him down, and sailors shouted anger.

But I hadn't time for them - Cholla Yi's ships were very close.

'Repel boarders,' I shouted. 'Gerasa! Target the helmsmen! Cholla Yi!' My best bow-woman, whom I'd promoted to sergeant in spite of her protests, gaped, then shouted her own orders as her section formed up along the rails and opened fire. But it was too late. I saw a shaft take the man standing next to Cholla Yi, grimaced that the archer's aim hadn't been better, and then Cholla Yi's galley crashed into ours, the spiked crow's-feet gangplanks thudded down and we were tied, ship to ship. Another ship bore alongside to port, but slings hummed and stones spat across the heaving waters between us, and the three men on the quarterdeck fell, chests or skulls splintered and the helmless ship drifted clear.

The third ship was coming up on our stern, but I had other matters to worry about as Cholla Yi's sailors poured over the gangplanks, and the sea was a milling mass of shouting, fighting men and women.

'Spearhead,' Polillo shouted, and four women formed behind her, and charged. Sailors screamed fear and tried to get away from that swinging axe. Two sailors ran at me, thinking the odds were theirs, and I jumped to the side, and they were in each other's way. I parried a clumsy slash from the first, slashed across his upper arm, cutting tendons, and his sword dropped, giving me time to spit his companion, pull free and finish off the wounded man before another was on me.

'Get the bitches,' I heard Choila Yi bellow. 'Kill them! Get their cursed captain first!'

A man rose up in front of me, holding a bloody halberd at half-staff, parried my cut, lunged as I slid aside, and came back to guard. He was a skilled fighter. I bobbed side-to-side, trying to confuse him, about to lunge, and his eyes widened, and I dropped to my right, and rolled, turning as I did, and Santh's sword came down and sent splinters flying from the deck.

He shrieked fear and pulled at the stuck blade as I came up from my crouch, slashing. My sword took off most of his face, and he stumbled back, against the rail, and then fell over the side, but that sailor's halberd darted at me like a snake striking, and its back-point seared across my unarmoured ribs. Pain flashed, but I paid no heed as my free hand had the staff of the halberd, and I pulled him into me, into me and my sword. His eyes saw no more, and he toppled, and I booted his corpse off my blade.

The brawl was roiling across the decks, and I couldn't tell in whose favour the battle was going. The way to end this was obvious, and I spotted Cholla Yi, above the crowd, his sword rising and falling, oiled spiked hair gleaming in the first sunlight, and cut my way towards him.

But Polillo was there first. I saw Cholla Yi aim a cut at her, and Polillo lean back as the sword whispered past, and then smash out with her axe-head, like it was the butt of a club. It hit Cholla Yi in the chest, and sent him stumbling back. But there was no blood, and his face showed no agony - he was wearing armour beneath his tunic. Now he and Polillo danced back and forth, and somehow all knew this would be the battle's decision, and no one cast spear or stone from the rear, nor sent a shaft thudding home. I don't know why such an absurdity as a duel came to be, on the deck of this heaving pirate ship between my legate and a renegade turncoat, but it did, for just a moment.

Choila Yi's blade was huge, double-handed, but perfectly balanced, and he used it both as intended and one-handed, weaving a mesh of steel between him and Polillo's dancing axe as she closed, ever forcing him back and back towards the railing.

Polillo saw a chance, and swung hard. Someone - it might've been me - groaned as she missed, and was open for a killing blow from Cholla Yi. He struck, but impossibly Polillo stopped her great axe in mid-stroke and brought it back, parrying his blade away, sending Cholla Yi stumbling, off-balance. Cholla Yi came back, in a circular return, but again his attack was blocked, and then Polillo struck with all her strength from her short-guard position, with as much power as I would've gained with a full swing of the axe, and the blade smashed into Cholla Yi's side, crashing through his armour as if he were naked, and blood and entrails spilled.

Cholla Yi shrilled a howl of agony, and fell back, his face black with his last rage.

I came back to myself, and struck at a sailor, but he was dropping his sword, hands coming up bare, imploring mercy, and across the deck there were others, and weapons clattered down and there were shouts of surrender. There was still red blood before my eyes, as I saw three, no four of my few remaining women down in death, and perhaps I might've ordered no quarter, but then I saw Gamelan, standing at the edge of the quarterdeck, flanked by Pamphylia and his other companion, faithful to their orders.

'Stop!' he shouted. 'He's coming! He's coming! I can see him!’

I had a single second to realize what Gamelan was saying, time enough to look and see his eyes were clear, looking at me, at the world, rather than gazing at that inward blankness as they had for so long.

The seas erupted and the Archon attacked.

We never saw him, though, not in the brief moments of that frenzied nightmare, because he attacked not with pure magic, but with sea demons and creatures of the dark ocean depths.

The water darkened to black as if dye had been cast into it, and tentacles writhed out, stretched and took a man, then another from the ship next to ours, down to where huge lidless eyes stared and a parrot-beak gaped and snapped closed, and the screams stopped. There was another creature up from the depths, a scaled salamander, three times the size of a man, its scales black with red stripes, and each time its mouth opened fire spat out. It climbed clumsily up the side of Kidai's galley, and I saw sailors stabbing at it with spears, and then screaming as they flamed into living torches.

Across the waters, I saw other creatures, some obvious demons not unlike Elam, if smaller than the demon-lord, as they boarded ships, talons flashing like swords, or simply grabbing sailors by their midsection and ripping into them with their fangs. Something with tentacles even greater than the kraken I'd seen came out of the sea and took a galley into its embrace and sank back, leaving nothing but some flotsam and a whirling maelstrom.

I suppose all of us went mad in that minute, seeing what no being should ever see, facing deaths no one could imagine in her darkest thoughts. Some of us froze, and died. Others fought bravely, and were taken as well.

The battle wasn't completely one-sided - the fire-salamander's mouth opened, and Kidai hurled a spear into it, just as flame flowed out and Kidai died as did his other seamen. The salamander roared agony, and rolled in its death-tangle, crushing men as it did so, smashing the galley's masts before it tumbled off into the black waters, leaving the galley listing, taking on water and sinking.

A demon clambered over the side of our ship, and met Polillo's axe, as it slashed away the top of its head. The monster didn't die, but, blinded, stumbled on across the deck and fell into the sea on the other side.

Another monster slithered out of the depths. It was perhaps twenty feet long, and was like a huge, slime-green snake, except there were no eyes, no airholes, and its mouth was round, ringed with fangs, funnel-shaped. It struck at me, and I slid aside, spotted the halberd that had belonged to the man I'd slain, dropped my sword and had the spear. As the beast, whatever it was, bit at me once more I struck with all my power, and the blade impaled the monstrosity to the deck. It flailed like a worm impaled on a fishing hook, then lay still.

There was a monstrous sea snake rearing above the prow, fangs gleaming below its horned snout. It darted and took one of my women, then hissed louder than a thousand screams as arrows pincushioned its head and I came from my madness.

Magic brought this cursed brood up, and only magic would send it down. I sought for words, for a spell, and knew I did not have the time and ran towards Gamelan, just as a demon pounced from the sea onto the quarterdeck. It looked like some impossible kind of water-lemur, except streaked like rotting meat, and it had scythes instead of arms. It struck for Gamelan, but he saw it and slipped out of the way. He scrabbled for a marlin-spike from a rack, and the demon attacked once more. Pamphylia was between them, serving as she'd been ordered, and took the slash across her body, and fell, even as her blade drove deep into the demon's chest.

I came up the companionway, but Gamelan held out his hands.

'No, Rali,' he said, calmly, as if we were sitting in his tiny room discussing the theory of magic. 'Do not come close.'

I knew I must obey, and stayed where I was.

Gamelan smiled at me, a friendly warm smile that welcomed and said farewell at the same time, then his eyes went beyond, to the black sea.

He reached into his robes, and took out that black onyx box that contained the Archon's heart. He held it above him in both hands and spoke, very quietly, but his voice rang across the ocean louder than the strongest typhoon:

Power take power

Black take black

Dark cannot stand

Flame conquers dark

Fire kills night

There is all

There is all

There is a finish

Power take power.

His hands moved oddly, in a series of circles, or as if he were scribing invisible symbols as he chanted. From nowhere came a roar of pain, and a sound I can only describe as a great cracking, like a sheet of ice being smashed.

I don't quite have the words for what came next, but it looked like a fogbank being blown apart by a wind. They were grey wisps, tendrils, and they swept out from Gamelan across the deck, across the sea, swirling towards the demons, and when they struck the demons shrilled pain and died, or sank beneath the surface. There was the sound of a whirlwind roaring, howling, but our sails hung motionless.

I heard a shout of triumph booming across the heavens and thought it Gamelan's voice, and then all was still.

The sea was as calm as a millpond.

All of the Archon's creatures had vanished.

But the blood and the gore still stained our decks, and the corpses still sprawled, and now the wounded began their cries and moans of agony.

Gamelan stood motionless, and now his hands were empty. I started up towards him, and then he slumped. I caught him before he hit the deck, and held him. His eyes were clear, seeing, but looking beyond me.

Once more he smiled.

Then he died.

I felt him go, felt an emptiness in the world that had been alive, that had been warm, that had been good.

I laid him down, and stood, not denying my tears.

Gamelan was gone, and in his great sacrifice he'd taken our only talisman, the heart of the Archon.

But I could feel no sign of the Archon's presence.

He'd almost destroyed us through treachery and his wizardry. Of our seven ships, only two were still afloat - ours and Cholla Yi's flagship. The others had been pulled down or sunk.

We bandaged our wounded, and buried our dead.

There were many, almost as many as the battle with The Sarzana had cost. Pamphylia. Cliges. Dacis. Others. More sailors than Guardswomen, but what of them? Sometimes we had a body to say the ceremony over, other times nothing except a scrap of their clothing, a jar of scent, a favourite weapon, or in Cliges' case her well-loved drinking jack, that we could use to keep their ghosts from wandering for ever.

We jury-rigged repairs on our ships, and set sail once more, limping on, still to the east.

It was two days later that we sighted the ship from Orissa.