But would he not be at that gate himself if it was his son imprisoned andscheduled for sacrifice? Hell, yes. And damned be the politics.
He could find nothing in his heart with which to condemn the man. "Carza. Will you come look at those people and see if you can tell what they're doing?"
Carza did as he was told, with poor grace.
What kind of rule could they provide, should they come to power, when theycould not manage courtesy, or even civility, among themselves?
A nasty thought tracked across his mind. If Herod and Fa'tad were pushed out, there might be a bloody period till a strongman emerged. And that man wasunlikely to be Colonel Sisu bel-Sidek. He did not have the backing. Pressed, he would have to bet on Zenobel.
It was something to consider in his spare moments. His companions would bethinking about it, not that the possibility of independence actually existed.
Carza snorted, then laughed softly. "The fools are going at it from the wrongdirection. They can't get in through the main gate."
Bel-Sidek's stomach knotted suddenly. No! So much time had fled already. Forall anyone knew they were bringing Nakar around right now ...
He wished to hell he had some idea what was going on in there.
He tried to put that out of mind. Too much fear came with those thoughts. Hisstated attitudes condemned him as surely as any Dartar or Herodian shouldNakar make his return.
King Dabdahd crept up beside him. "You were always the genius staffer, bel- Sidek. The strategist the old man counted on. What would you do with thecitadel if you grabbed it? You think Fa'tad might?"
It was not like King to dither and flutter around the edges of something butit was not like him to have an original thought, either. Clearly, he had hadone. He did not want to state it plainly because someone might laugh.
Bel-Sidek saw it clearly enough. "You could be right."
Fa'tad might want the citadel itself as much as the treasures inside it. Fromwithin its impenetrable walls he could scour the city of every valuable beforehe left for his mountains-or he could stay and rule, harvesting Qushmarrah'swealth slowly and more certainly. He might even rule with a certainbenevolence, restricting his predations to Herodians and those who declaredthemselves his enemies.
He'd then have a place to spend treasures for the benefit of his people.
At last bel-Sidek thought he saw the true face of Fa'tad's ambition. Anambition that would live or die according to whether or not he took thecitadel before Nakar quickened.
"You're right, King. Thanks for making me see it. I'll give it some thought."
What it meant, though, he feared, was that the Living would have to try toprevent it-with all that implied in lives wasted and new vulnerabilities.
Salom Edgit asked, "Do we all have to be up here for this? I could use achance to dry out."
"I can go along with that," Carza said.
Bel-Sidek nodded. Still, someone had to keep an eye on the Dartars. He askedfor a volunteer, got King Dabdahd. The rest headed for shelter and continueddebate.
The fleet from Qushmarrah reached the far shore of the Gulf of Tuhn soonerthan anticipated. The weather was more hospitable there. The troops wereashore and ready to greet the Turoks before nightfall. Whatever happenedelsewhere, those raiders would be numbered among General Lentello Cado'striumphs.
Not a soul witnessed the Herodian landing.
Zouki followed Arif wherever he went, whatever he did. Arif fled, dismayed bythe look in Zouki's eyes, a terrible but unreasoning look. A beast look.
What did it mean? His young mind could not make sense of it. It was merelyanother fright among many.
The big man and another came to the cage. Arif was terrified. Something aboutthe shorter man ... Zouki was frightened, too. He ran to hide with the rockapes, though he remembered nothing directly.
The two men stared at Arif and spoke too softly to be overheard. Arif was surethey were talking about him. He wanted to run and hide, too, but waspetrified. He did not want to get closer to Zouki, either. And there wasnowhere else to run.
One of the girls came to Arif after the men left. She just stared at him. Thatmade him uncomfortable. He said, "My dad will get me out." He wanted tobelieve that so badly he had convinced himself it was true.
Belief made the terror almost bearable.
Aaron felt like a clown, carrying a knife and a sword. He could not helpthinking his Dartar companions found him amusing. What did he know aboutswords? He had not had one in hand for six years and even back then all he'ddone was keep his blade clean and sharp and oiled. That night in his own homewas the only time he'd seriously tried to kill somebody.
Then he looked at the Dartars more closely. It was unlikely many were moreexperienced than he. They were too young. Fa'tad would have his veteransplaced where the chances of real fighting were greatest. The advantage theseboys had was that they had grown up in a harsher environment and fiercerculture.
The Herodian sorceress chattered steadily. Even Nogah could make no sense ofwhat she said. He sent for someone to interpret.
The man who came was an older Dartar who made the youngsters nervous, obviously someone whose good opinion meant a lot to them.
"Mo'atabar," Yoseh told Aaron. "Our captain's second and a friend of ourfather. Having him here is like having Father's ghost watching over ourshoulders." The boy was determinedly on his best behavior.
Mo'atabar translated as the sorceress rattled on. At first it seemed she was just talking to herself, thinking out loud, making little sense. Then she saidsomething about men watching them. Everyone responded as though to anunexpected thunderclap. It took Mo'atabar a minute to stop her and back herup.
"Two men watching from the citadel, in the top of that tower." She pointedwith her nose. "Another half dozen on the roof of the red and white three- storey building with the balconies, there on the edge of the square."
Aaron tried to appear unconcerned as he glanced that way. She meant the homeof that crazy woman who owned the ships. He spied the silhouette of a head.
The light was too poor and the distance too great to make out any features.
Mo'atabar said it. "The Living. They have been quiet as mice but you knowthey're out there watching. Faruk, come here." Mo'atabar whispered to theyounger Dartar, who then ambled off toward the Residence.
The sorceress was on to something else now, muttering about the job at hand.
"Something wrong with this pattern. Doesn't feel like it goes anywhere. Almostlike it folds in on itself. When am I going to get someone I can experimentwith?"
"Soon," Mo'atabar promised. "I just sent a man to find out."
Liar, Aaron thought, catching enough of that to understand. Whatever messageFaruk had carried, it had had to do with the Living. No one ever told thetruth. Everyone was maneuvering and trying to manipulate everyone else. Whichsaid what about his place in the middle of things?
He did not see how he could be any use to anyone anymore. The Dartars werepaying him off by letting him tag along. Unless they used him as a symbol, abanner to be trotted out and pointed at as an inspiration for a noble cause.
He tried not to think of Arif, or of Arif s proximity, maybe no more than astone's throw away. He had to keep his head.
A troop of Dartar horsemen passed, coming from the direction of the Residence, looking like they were headed for trouble. Mo'atabar hailed their captain, whosaid they were headed into the Shu where some of the trapped Herodians hadbroken through a third-level closure and were trying to fight their way out ofthe maze. The outbreak had been contained but it needed to be pushed back andthe breach sealed again. Right now there was fierce fighting on the tiersabove the place where Aaron lived.
A moment of panic.
Then reason returned, accompanied by the realization that most of anybloodletting would take place in the Shu because most of Herod's men werethere.
"Yoseh, I need to get my family out of that. They'll be in the middle of it."