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This last command was unprecedented, for the elf arrows known as "black lightning" were crafted through a long and mystic process. Green arrows were raw and unfinished by elven standards, deadly enough when launched from elven bows, but lacking the rites that imbued the weapons with forest magic and linked the elven hunter-warriors to their home in ways that no human-and few elves-could fully understand. Yet Foxfire knew his request would be honored, and he understood that this was a measure of the high regard his tribe had for his leadership and judgment. He only hoped that with this decision he would not betray his people's trust.

"If there were no elven raids before, there will be soon," he added softly. "We will attack the farm where the elves are held as slaves."

At these words the haunted look faded from Tamsin's eyes, burned away like morning mist by the rising sun of his hatred. "In that case, I will send your words to Tamara with pleasure," he said grimly. "And I will tell her to urge the warriors to hurry!"

"So how's the farming going?" Arilyn inquired casually.

Her words seemed to irritate her young host, as they were intended to do. Prince Hasheth cast her a baleful look, then quickly composed his hawklike features into a lofty, lordly expression so studied that Arilyn was certain he'd practiced it before a mirror.

It seemed that Hasheth, a younger son of the ruling pasha, was having a great deal of difficulty finding a life-path suited to his ambitions and his exalted sense of self. Arilyn had met the young man several months before, during his attempt to gain fame and wealth as an assassin. He had been charged with killing another assassin, namely Arilyn. She and Danilo had managed,

just barely, to convince the proud youth that this assignment was actually a death sentence handed down by guildmasters who wanted Batik's son out of the assassins' guild. Since then, Hasheth had become an ally, helping to insinuate Arilyn into the assassins' guild and sponsoring Danilo in the social life of the palace. And in doing so, he had finally found an activity that suited him. The role of Harper informant appealed to, the young man, for intrigue was a skill highly valued in Tethyr. Yet his Harper activities did not bring him the overt wealth and status he craved. Since he'd left the assassins' guild, he had tasted of a dozen occupations. The latest, apparently, was no more to his liking than any of his previous choices.

^ have scraped the dung and the mud from my boots and left the manor house in the hands of a steward," Hasheth announced with disdain. The life of a country lord is deadly dull. What need have I of lands or title, I who am the son of a pasha?"

Actually, Arilyn observed silently, lands and title would be a big improvement over Hasheth's current lot. As a younger, harem-born son, his status was roughly that of a skilled tradesman, and his prospects were considerably less promising. At last count Batik had seven sons from his legal wives; his harem had produced an additional thirteen or fourteen. Hasheth had at least a dozen older brothers. Even if he had perfected the assassin's art, it would have taken him many years to work his way up to the head of the tine.

The half-elf nodded sympathetically. "Land is important, but Zazesspur's wealth comes largely from trade. Have you considered becoming a merchant?"

The prince sniffed. "A greengrocer? A camel salesman? I think not."

"How about apprentice to the head of the shipping guild, a man who also sits on the Lords' Council?" the Harper countered. "Trade and politics work together tike a paired dagger and sword. In no place is this more true than in Zazesspur. You could learn much and gather the tools needed to carve out a place for yourself. Those who control trade will always have a powerful hold upon the rulers. And Inselm Hhune is an ambitious man. You might to do well to hitch your cart to his star."

Hasheth nodded, his black eyes regarding her thoughtfully. "And the Harpers-they endorse this Lord Hhuner

His tone was casual, but Arilyn could almost hear the gears of Gond churning in his mind. Clearly, he understood that she had some purpose other than his career advancement in mind. The Harper suppressed a rueful smile. Hasheth was good and getting better.

"No, of course not," she said bluntly. "As I've said before, Hhune is ambitious. It would be wise for the Harpers to keep an eye on such a man. But there is no reason why you cannot do this for us and advance yourself at the same time."

This notion seemed to please the young man. Picking up a jewel-encrusted bottle, he leaned forward and added a bit more wine to Arilyn's goblet. She obligingly drank deeply, noting as she did so the glint that entered Hasheth's eyes. It was a common ploy, one he had used time and again in the hope that a quantity of potent Catishite wine would lower the half-elfs formidable reserve and deliver her to his bed. Arilyn knew without vanity that she was considered beautiful, and she was well accustomed to masculine attention. Hasheth's both amused and exasperated her, for the young man always expressed his admiration in a manner that suggested he was conferring upon her a great honor. Arilyn was an expert at saying no-her repertoire ranged from gracefully feigned regret to a disemboweling backstroke-but it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to turn down Hasheth's advances while keeping a straight face.

Fortunately for Arilyn, the young man seemed to be more interested in his future prospects than his immediate libidinous impulses. "I will ask my father to place me in Lord Hhune's service," he agreed.

"You do that, but first you should know that Hhune was probably involved in the plot against your father," she cautioned him. "It is even possible that he had something to do with the guilds' attempt to have you killed. Even now, you'd do well to watch your back."

Hasheth shrugged as if these past offenses were unworthy of consideration. "If Lord Hhune is truly an ambitious man, he will take whatever path he must," he observed. His unspoken words, And so will I, rang sharply in Arilyn's ears.

The young man's attitude did nothing to reassure Arilyn. At best, Hasheth was overly pragmatic. He would do whatever needed to be done to advance his ambitions. As long as Ms interests lay along the same path as those of the Harpers, all would be well. Arilyn was not certain it would always be so. Yet honor demanded that she give the young man one more warning.

"I hope I am wrong, Hasheth, but from what I have seen and heard, it seems likely that the end of your father's rule draws near. It cannot be otherwise, when he slights so many ambitious Tethyrians in favor of southern courtiers."

The prince received this dire prediction with yet another shrug. "What is that to me? I stand too far from the throne to mourn its loss and have long known that I must seek my fortune elsewhere. But I thank you for your words. Now, on to other, more pleasant matters. More wine?"

Arilyn declined with a delicate wave of her hand and a small, hard-edged smile. Hhune and Hasheth were well matched, and she wished them the joy of each other's company! "I would, Hasheth," she purred in a courtesan's creamy tones, "but in company such as yours, I dare not drink too freely. I couldn't trust myself to behave!"

The shops of Zazesspur closed at twilight, but in the back room of Garvanell's Fine Ointments business continued apace. Behind the lavish shop that offered scented oils and spurious potions to the city's wealthy, behind the counting room where the clerks labored to tally the day's wealth, Garvanell kept a small private room where he received payment of another, more personal sort.

Garvanell had been born to farmhands who labored in the distant reaches of the Purple Hills. But from a very early age it was apparent that he would not remain in such remote and humble surroundings. The gods had gifted him with a handsome face and a certain smarmy charm. He had done well with these modest attributes, trading them for the benefits that came along with the favor of older, wealthy women. Step by step, he worked his way up in society, until at last he married a well-to-do widow of Zazesspur.