"Not always. Turoks sometimes visit Qushmarrah. They cross Dartar territory to do it, so there is some kind of understanding at some level. And they workedtogether in our grandfathers' time, during the first war. Qushmarrah employedauxiliaries from both tribes against Lepido's armies. Their fleet landed amixed force in Tiguria that came within sight of Herod's walls twice. Fa
"tad's father commanded that expedition."
"You sure you aren't seeing conspiracy where greed would explain things?"
"Probably. Still, the options the raiders leave us aren't attractive."
"So?"
"The obvious move is for us to loose our Dartars. But suppose they are workingtogether? Fa'tad strips the country of livestock and valuables and retires tohis mountains. We couldn't do anything, because to field enough men we'd haveto strip Qushmarrah of every Herodian soldier.
"If we send one of our own legions instead, Fa'tad is a match for us here. Hecan attack us with every expectation of initiating an uprising. He can thenback off and let Qushmarrahans do his dying while he saves his people toplunder whatever is left.
"If we don't do anything but wait for the Turoks to go home we get unresteverywhere this side of the sea because we haven't kept our promise to protectthe people. Over on the other side we're in hot water because we haven'tprotected their property."
They were outside now, moving through the dawn-splashed acropolis. Ahead, acolumn of Dartars came out of the Hahr and crossed the heights to the Shu.
Cado wondered what they were up to but did not ask. Bruda would tell him assoon as he found out.
Bruda said, "It all depends on what's going on inside the head of the onecrazy old man, doesn't it?"
"We have to trust him. Whether he's trustworthy or not. And hope he won'tchange his colors again without at least as much provocation as he had lasttime."
They approached the Residence, practically passing through the shadow of thecitadel. Cado shuddered. The place still gave him the creeps.
Bruda said, "Fa'tad started his herd moving south yesterday."
Cado watched Sullo's army of servants load a train of carts and wagons. "Itwas time, wasn't it?" A flashy donkey cart, carrying a large brown trunk, rolled up and worked its way into a gap in the line. The boy drivingdismounted and walked up the line to talk to another driver.
"Yes," Bruda admitted.
"Then we can't account that an omen. Even if it is one."
"Not really."
"And here comes Sullo, timing his appearance perfectly."
Sullo did appear at the top of the Residence steps just as Cado reached theirbase. The civil governor came down slowly, in all his portly glory, beaming ateveryone as though bestowing the benediction of God. He greeted Cadoeffusively. Servants scurried, trying to impress with their diligence.
Sullo's eye fell on the donkey cart. "What's that?" he asked one of his companions. The man shrugged.
"General Cado. I assume those pigeon tracks on the banner on that cart pass for writing here. What does it say?" Cado shrugged. "Colonel Bruda?" Cado did not read Qush-marrahan. Bruda squinted, translated slowly. "'From the people of Qushmarrah, for the Governor Sullo, in appreciation, a gift.'"
Cado and Bruda frowned uncertainly. Sullo pranced over to the cart, shoved his bulk against its side, unlatched the trunk.
Colonel Bruda said, "Governor, you'd better let someone else ..."
Too late. Sullo tossed the trunk lid back.
The fat man rose on his toes. He stiffened. A gargling, strangled sound ripped out of his throat. He turned, his face white with horror. He vomited, then ran for the Residency, pausing to vomit twice more before he disappeared.
Cado looked into the trunk. "The heads of the Moretians he sent to evict the old woman." "Welcome to Qushmarrah, indeed."
Try to find the boy who delivered the cart."
"Waste of time."
"I know. Make a showing. I'll go try to keep him from doing anything else stupid." But Sullo was not on Cado's mind as he mounted the steps of the Residency. He thought he saw a way to ease the perils of responding to the Turok incursion.
Azel dozed in the shadows by the empty fireplace, not as unalert as he appeared. He cracked an eyelid when the limping man came in. The man talked to Muma instead of passing a message. Muma looked surprised. After an exchange the gimp nodded and hobbled outside. Muma fished a son out of the kitchen, yakked at him, sent him out the back way. He poured himself a draft of hot tea, added a dollop of honey, came to join Azel. "Another message?"
"A little off the usual."
"I saw you jump. What is it?"
"The palm sparrow has flown."
Azel sat up. "The old boy croaked?"
"That's what it means. That one wants to talk to you as soon as he can."
"I'd rather leave town. But I suppose I have to. He's the one the old manpicked to take over."
"Maybe we all ought to leave town."
"Just when it's getting interesting?"
"Just when it's getting deadly."
Muma's son came back. He nodded. All clear. Azel rose, stretched, went out theback way. He caught up with the limping man. As he passed, he said, "At theParrot's Beak," and went ahead.
He picked himself a good perch and waited, flipping pebbles at the morningpigeons grazing on the leavings of evening picnickers. When the shadow fellupon him he suggested, "Pull up a seat, Khadifa."
The cripple eased himself down.
"I'm Azel. I worked for the old man, special. I guess I work for you now.
Them's his orders, anyway. So he finally went and did it, huh?"
"He did it, Azel. But he had help."
"What?" That caught him as much by surprise as had the pursuit of the Dartarsin the labyrinth.
"We believe he was murdered. By witchcraft." The gimp gave him details. "Iwant you to view the body. See if you concur. Then I want you to find thewoman who did it."
"A woman? You're sure?"
"No. Of course not. But once you come see the body you'll understand ourpresumption."
Azel shifted uneasily. "It's still in Char Street? I had word from the old manyesterday to stay out of Char Street. Dartars are up to something there, watching everybody like hawks, stirring things up. I been in and out too muchlately, all the special jobs he wanted done. What you doing with the body?
Moving it somewhere?"
"He had property in the country. His wife still lives out there. We're takinghim there later."
"I know the place. I'll show up somewhere along the way. You going outyourself? We got a lot to talk about and this ain't the best place."
"You're right. It isn't. Maybe out there, day after tomorrow. I can get awaywith breaking routine today because my father died and there are things youhave to do on a day like that. Unfortunately, I'll actually have to spend mostof my time doing those things. Tomorrow I'll have to get back to my normalroutine or there'll be questions."
"You ought to find some way to stop working," Azel said. "Ain't no way beingboss of the whole damned outfit ought to be a part-time job."
"I have to eat."
Azel snorted. The man was a damned fool, seduced by the imaginary value ofappearances. Who the hell was watching him? Bet he wasn't no hand-to-mouth daylaborer before Dak-es-Souetta. "You going to make any big changes? Or just goahead the same old way?"
"No changes. That I foresee. Maybe after I'm more familiar with everything theorganization is doing. I wasn't in on everything."
Azel snorted again. The guy was right there. The old man had thought him waytoo soft to follow through on some of the hard things that had to be done. Butthe best successor, anyway, overall. Go figure that.