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Teynel saluted with such force he almost knocked his own helmet off. "C-Corporal Elcaxi of the Fourth Company, Your Excellency."

"Corporal."

"This is my second, Private Vertino." Sivi returned Belbe's vacant look with an icy appraisal of her own.

*****

The rebels parted ranks to let Belbe pass. When they were clear, she got a better glimpse of Eladamri. He was of moderate height, and the color of his hair meant he was past the prime of life for his race. The lofty palace guards, chosen from the ranks of the regular army for their size and strength, still prevented her from seeing him clearly.

Greven nodded, and a door of armored warriors drew back.

Eladamri looked upon her face, and she on his.

His eyes widened, and a rush of blood flamed in his cheeks. Eladamri let out a roar of perfect rage, and though weighed down with thirty pounds of shackles and chains, he threw himself on Belbe and bore her to the floor.

She thought time had stopped. Everyone was fixed, like the statues in Volrath's suite-the guards, hampered by their ceremonial garb; the ragged soldiers who'd captured Eladamri gaped; Crovax, hovering on the periphery of the scene, watched and smiled. Greven, who always seemed on the knife's edge of violence, just looked on with curious passivity.

They're going to let me die, she thought. They're going to let this madman kill me.

Eladamri had both hands around her neck. Because of her gorget he couldn't throttle her, so he raised her head and slammed it against the floor. It hurt, but only superficially. Her alloy skull could turn an ax blow. As it was, each time her head struck the floor there was a dull metallic thud.

"Assassin! Murderer!" the elf cried. "Avila! Avila-!"

The footsore soldiers of the Fourth Company moved first. They grabbed Eladamri by the arms and shoulders and tore him off Belbe. Once they acted, the spell was broken, and the palace guards quickly pinned the rebel leader to the floor with their polearms. Elcaxi and his comrades pushed away the guards' bills and axheads, relying on their bodies to hold the raging Eladamri.

Someone lifted Belbe to her feet. Her vision cleared, and she saw her benefactor was Crovax.

"I knew he was crafty, but I never thought Eladamri was insane," Crovax said mildly. "Are you all right, Excellency?"

Belbe rubbed the back of her head. "No permanent damage."

"Damned murderers! They did it on purpose! Devils! Monsters! Dear Avila, sweet child, how could they do this-?"

Belbe was still holding the back of her head. "What is he raving about?" Crovax and Greven were clueless. "You men, let him go," Belbe commanded.

Sivi and Teynel hesitated but followed orders. "Up," said Teynel, and the rebels scrambled to their feet. Eladamri arched his back and sprang to a crouching position with one flex. Tears streamed down his cheeks. With a second heave, he regained his feet. The palace guards interposed a wall of polearms between him and Belbe.

"Hold," she said to the troops. "Don't harm him." She turned to Eladamri. "Why do you risk death to lay hands on me? Who is Avila?"

He advanced a step, breathing heavily. "Does my face mean nothing to you?"

"I've never seen you before."

He gripped the polearm shafts barring his path. "Where do you come from, Girl?"

Greven backhanded Eladamri, sending him sprawling. The crowd let out a collective "Oh!"

"You do not question the emissary!" Greven barked. Belbe held up a hand to the hulking warrior. "Be still," she said. She pushed through the hedge of polearms and knelt beside the elf. Eladamri pushed himself up on one arm and dabbed the blood from his freshly split lip.

"Do you attack me because I'm the emissary of your enemy?" said Belbe.

"I attacked because you're an abomination, a horrible lie," Eladamri said in a low voice. "You should be exterminated, as all unnatural creatures should be."

"I wouldn't speak too lightly of extermination," Crovax said, shouldering through the press. "From where I stand, the best candidate for extermination is you."

Eladamri stood. He was weighed down by his chains, but when Belbe tried to assist him, he pulled away from her, glaring hatefully.

"Remove his shackles," Belbe said. When no one complied with her order she shouted, "Do as I say!"

Teynel shoved the key in his leader's bonds. He tried to urge Eladamri to be calm with a meaningful glance. The elf did not meet his eyes. He burned holes in Belbe and kept doing so even after his chains fell loudly to the floor.

"What are your orders, Excellency?" Greven asked.

"What is the first task of a captor?"

He bowed. "As you command, Excellency." At Greven's order, the box of guards was reformed. Teynel and the rebels kept discreetly to the rear.

"Don't kill him," Belbe added as the prisoner faced about. "Find out what he knows, but preserve his life. Do you understand?"

Greven avowed he did.

Crovax sighed. "So much trouble. I doubt he'll tell us anything. Better to strike off his head now and be done with it. I can have the airship drop it on the rebels in Skyshroud Forest-"

"Shut up," Belbe commanded.

Crovax shrugged.

The massive crowd tried to get out of the way of Eladamri's escort, but there were so many packed in the rear of the hall that it took a few minutes to clear the doorway. Just as everyone's attention was focused on the departing rebel leader, the floor of the hall turned to soft clay, and the dilating doors melded into a solid mass. Everyone was lifting their feet, losing shoes and slippers in the sticky stuff.

Belbe's frustration was written on her face. "What are you doing, Crovax? Restore the door and floor."

Crovax was seated on the throne. He looked very natural and comfortable in the tall black chair. Leaning back, he propped his chin on his hands and waited until everyone was looking at him to respond.

"The noon hour is not far off, Excellency. Why not take advantage of these splendid witnesses and announce your choice for the next Evincar of Rath?"

She looked around. "Ertai is not here."

"Should he be?"

"He is under consideration for the post."

Crovax flexed his fingers. Four flowstone rods, like the ones he had used to slaughter the hostages, erupted from the floor around Belbe. Secondary spikes jutted from the footthick shafts, isolating her in a ring of artificial thorns.

Belbe glared. "I tire of your displays."

His right eyelid twitched. A fifth rod formed between her feet. It rose slowly to knee level and held there, the tip bending backward to caress her leg like some inquisitive tentacle.

"Name your choice," Crovax said quietly.

"Not yet."

The fifth rod leaped up to her chin. Limp pseudopodia emerged from it and delicately probed the joints of her armor. She knew that with a single thought he could convert them to steel-hard spikes.

"If you kill me, you'll never be named evincar," Belbe said. "Knowing that, do you think you can frighten me into a decision?"

Crovax burst out laughing. It was hard, unfriendly mirth, but the cage of spikes sank into the floor. The rest of the crowd found their footing had firmed up. Their exodus accelerated now that many of them had seen Crovax's talents for the first time.

"I defer my decision until tomorrow morning. By then I will know more about the rebels' plans and can act accordingly."

With that, Belbe strode from the hall. Eladamri's eyes hatefully followed her out of the room.

CHAPTER 15

PAWN

Ertai awoke slowly. The room was pitch black and so hot that sweat from his brow had pooled on the tabletop, matting together several old manuscripts. There was a vile taste in his mouth. Coughing, he sat up and realized he'd chewed on a scroll in his sleep. That explained the awful flavor of ink.