The boy looked at him like he wondered why he was wasting time. "I'll tellMo'atabar."
Mo'atabar summoned Aaron and tied a piece of colored cord around his left arm, at the elbow. "So you'll be known as a friend. But don't push your luck."
"I'll be back." Aaron started walking, expecting a challenge before he got outof sight of the citadel. Though he did not run he wasted no time.
Yoseh watched the carpenter hurry away. He tried not to worry about Tamisa.
Not his place. No reason to trouble himself. She was as far beyond his reachnow as she was before he met her.
Nogah asked, "What's he up to?"
Yoseh explained.
"Good idea. I'm starting to think our witch is as useful as udders on a bull.
When's she going to do something besides talk to herself?"
Nogah was frightened! Damn! He was sure they would not break through in time.
Yoseh saw the same fear everywhere-and in the witch most of all. The citadelhad given them a lot of time. Maybe they were playing games in there. Maybethey were just letting the invaders torment themselves.
Yoseh had not been tense till he began thinking about what a deadly race thiswas. The pressure had begun to mount. Now he wondered why he had talkedhimself into conning to this mad city. Mo'atabar was right. It was the city oflead and gold. Only the gold was imaginary and lead was what became of yourdreams.
Men leading a string often prisoners came out of the rain-not Herodianprisoners of war, as Yoseh had expected, but Qush-marrahans with the rattylook of petty criminals. Mo'atabar lined them up in a sad parody of aformation.
"What we're doing here is trying to get into the citadel," Mo'atabar toldthem. "There's a sorcery on the gate. We have to penetrate it. I won't tellyou your part isn't dangerous but I won't risk you unreasonably, either. Yourchances of getting through are good. And once we've found our way insideyou'll be released."
Yoseh knew he would have jumped at the chance had he been stuffed into a cellwaiting to be chained to an oar in a Herodian galley.
"We got a choice here?" one man asked. He looked more hardened than hisfellows.
"Of course. We won't force anyone. If you don't want to volunteer let me know.
I'll cut your throat and the rest of us can get on with our work."
"'Bout the way I thought it'd be."
Mo'atabar told the sorceress, "They're all yours. Tell me what you want to have them do."
In the beginning Yoseh thought what the witch was doing was a lot offoolishness. She picked a prisoner, lined him up just so, had Mo'atabar tellhim to take four baby steps forward. He was to remain motionless there till hereceived instructions otherwise. Then she had another man repeat that and takea couple of side steps, then three forward.
By the time the fifth went through his routine unharmed the others began torelax. And Yoseh realized there was something happening, after all.
That fifth man looked a little like he was behind the heat shimmer that rose off the Takes. And the sixth, once he got where he had been told to go, wasonly a vague discoloration except when Yoseh looked at him sort of sidewaysand indirectly.
The seventh man disappeared completely. There was no evidence he existed atall-except for his screams.
Aaron thought he was clever to move his family into Naszifs home. With no onein the streets, with every door and window barred so no one could see troublecoming, none of Naszifs neighbors would know who was staying inside.
He got them in unnoticed, with everything they could carry. Then Laellaaccompanied him to the door. There was a look in her eyes he had not seensince the day his company had left for the Seven Towers. She avoided touchingthe weapons he carried so clumsily. "Be careful, Aaron," and the way she saidit made it more than a parting caution. It was a prayer.
He kissed her forehead. "I will. Believe me, I will. I'm no hero."
"Don't say that. Yes, you are."
He looked at each of them in turn, and Stafa the longest, then he went.
Aram had to be guiding him. Going home, down Char Street, he had run into noone, though he had been sure he would encounter Dartars who would not believethe cord around his arm. He had not. And it looked like his luck would continue now.
It did not occur to him to wonder what had become of all those horses and men who had hurried into Char Street supposedly to keep the Herodians fromescaping.
"Aaron."
He was so startled he almost drew his sword. He looked around-and there, inthe mouth of an alley, was bel-Sidek. He looked around again, hastily, suspiciously, fearfully.
"I'm alone, Aaron. And unarmed."
"What do you want?"
"I have a message for your Dartar friends."
"What? Why?"
"Occasionally even our enemies do something we favor. We-my faction among theLiving-have no desire for Nakar's return. I've told Fa'tad I'd accept thelooting of the citadel if that's his price for leaving Qushmarrah."
"So what's the message?" Aaron did not believe a word the man said, butneither did he disbelieve. The captains of the factions all created their owntruths. Parts of some might actually dovetail with reality.
"It's direct and basic, Aaron. They're trying to get into the citadel throughthe wrong door. The sorcery protecting the main gate is a fake and a decoy.
The real entrance is a postern around to the south. The pattern guarding ithas been in place two centuries, which is why no one knows about it. It leavesthe wall looking unbroken. I'm told there are alarms built into the pattern.
You won't surprise anyone."
"They know what we're doing. They've been watching all morning."
"Ah? Pass that along, then. Quickly. They've had too much time already." Bel- Sidek glanced up and down the street, retreated into his alley.
Aaron looked around, too. He saw nothing but frowning buildings and fallingrain. He shrugged and hurried uphill.
The Dartars seemed surprised to see him. He went straight to Mo'atabar withhis story.
Mo'atabar seemed disinclined to credit it but Nogah butted in. "Let the witchdecide. She's the one who knows this stuff. And she sure isn't gettinganywhere going at it the way she is."
Yoseh told Aaron, "She's hit a dead end. She's lost three prisoners in thereand still can't find the way."
Mo'atabar scowled. He did not like being taught to suck eggs by hisgrandchildren. But he relayed the message, anyway.
The Herodian woman brightened. She began chattering more fervently than shehad earlier. She dropped what she was doing and hastened around to the southface of the citadel. After a few back-and-forths she froze and stared. Her chatter became vehement.
Mo'atabar said, "You were right, carpenter. She's cussing herself out for nothaving seen it. And answering herself, saying she missed it because it was socunningly hidden."
"She's arguing with herself?"
"All Herodians are mad," Mo'atabar declared.
Reyha had nothing to do and teetered at the brink of terror, so Naszif had heraccompany him on his endless rounds of the barricades. He found her chores tooccupy her hands and mind. She went along because she needed the distractiondesperately.
Naszif himself was, in a sense, pleased to be caught in a desperate siege.
Fending off those Dartar traitors left him no time to brood about Zouki.
The fending had grown easier. They no longer seemed interested in conqueringGovernment House, only in keeping him confined, out of touch.
He cursed his inability to discover what was happening elsewhere. He cursedthe rain. In better weather the siege would not have cut communications. Thewhole sprawl of Qushmarrah could be seen from the heights of Government House.
Information could come and go via signal lights or semaphore.
Reason said Herodian arms had suffered a disaster. Else the nomads would have been driven from the acropolis by now.
That idiot Sullo!
An ensign came running. He was little more than a child and did not belonghere where his story might be cut short before it began. "Sir, the physiciansaid to tell you Colonel Bruda is coming around and it looks like he'll be incontrol of his faculties."