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self carefully on the foot of her bed and took her outstretched hand.
"A man who betrayed me before I ever laid eyes on you!"
"The traitor Tovek . . ." said Kurrekai bitterly.
"Holy Mother Bey," whispered the Beysa, "did you see him too?"
Aroused by her emotion, the beynit lifted its head, then settled between
her full breasts again.
"And before that it was two of those Stepsons," said the lady-in-wait-
ing implacably, "marching bold as brass down the hall! The guard saw
them too, but he thought it was his own nightmare!"
"Lock the snake up and sleep with me!" cried the prince. Both women
stared at him. "I know you don't like to leave it, but you have to rest'"
"Kadakithis, I could kill you . . ." Shupansea said slowly. "Even
without the beynit. My blood is poison, Ki-thus! Oh! If you were Beysib
you would understand!" They gazed at each other across a chasm of race
and culture that mocked their clasped hands.
"I understand that I love you," he said finally. "And I am still prince
QUICKSILVER DREAMS
499
in Sanctuary. If you cannot rest, then no man of learning in this town is
going to sleep either until you are free!"
"Another week and I should be able to get rooms of my own," said
Cappen Varra, handing his empty plate to Gilla for a second helping of
pie. "Playing during the intermissions at Feltheryn's theater may not be
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exactly what I would have chosen, but the work is regular'"
"You're welcome to stay on here," said Gilla.
"Well, I need more privacy to practice, you know I don't like to
think I'm disturbing you!" Cappen's glance caught Lab's in warning,
then flicked away again.
"But who could mind listening to your music?" Gilla exclaimed.
Lalo suppressed a smile. He suspected that it was not the practice of
music that the minstrel had in mind. Feltheryn had hired a new actress
for their latest production, and Cappen was already courting her.
Replete, they were all pushing their plates aside when there was a
knock on the door.
"Open up! Lord Torchholder's orders open up in rhere!"
Latilla, too young to remember the times when a knock on the door
was a signal to hide, was already scampering to obey. Lalo opened his
mouth to call her back, then shut it again. If they were Torchholder's
men he had nothing to fear. Did he? He fought back memories of the
night when Coricidius the Vizier had sent the Hell-Hounds to pluck Lalo
from his bed. Surely the priest who had been the closest thing he ever had
to a patron could mean no harm to him.
"What does Lord Torchholder want with me at this hour?" he asked
as the guardsmen pushed into the room.
"Didn't say. You're to come with us, bring your drawing things."
"He can't be wanting Lalo to draw a picture for him at this hour!"
exclaimed Gilla. The man shrugged.
"Got my orders. That's all I know."
It had to be more than artwork, thought Lalo, gathering up his things.
Suddenly he remembered his conversation with the priest the previous
morning. Darios was watching him, a little pale, biting his lip as if he
wanted to speak but was not sure
"I want to bring my apprentice with me too " Lalo turned, satchel in
hand, and Darios stood up eagerly.
"Got no orders " the guard began.
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"Oh, what does it matter!" exclaimed one of the other men. "He said
to get the limner quickly. Can't hurt to take two!"
500 STEALERS' SKY
They moved quickly through the streets of the city. Even in the Maze
folk got out of the way of a well-armed troop who seemed to know their
business. Lalo had never gone across town so fast. But it was only as the
guards conducted him up the broad staircase towards the royal suites
instead of downward to the Hall of Justice lockup that he realized how
great his fear had been.
The air in the upper corridor was heavy with the scent of incense and
expensive perfume. Embroidered hangings glowed on the walls and Lalo
blinked, seeing with doubled vision the flicker of lamplight on figured
tapestries and the glimmering afterimages of richly robed courtiers and
armored men.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, opened them abruptly as he
heard a low laugh and saw before him the agile form, the sardonic grin,
and the gleaming knife of the assassin Zanderei.
"Watch out!" He stopped short and the guard behind him bumped into
him, swearing. "He's got a knife!"
"Who? Where?" Swords flared from their sheaths and Lalo was thrust
hard against the wall. "You fools, jumping at shadows! There's nobody
here!"
Lalo blinked. There was no one now, but he had seen something, or
why should he suddenly think of a man who had been dead for years?
"They're all jumping at shadows here, if you ask me," muttered one of
the men as they started forward again.
Darios pressed close to him, twitching like a nervous horse. "I thought
I saw my old master," he whispered. "But maybe it's the incense Lalo,
somebody has been doing exorcisms here!"
Why? wondered Lalo, unless . . . Before he could follow that thought
to its conclusion the gilded doors at the end of the hall were pushed open
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