Azel clumped downstairs, ignoring his pain. He roared, "Torgo! Torgo! Where the hell are you, you ball-less bastard? We just ran the hell out of time!" Hestampeded toward the Witch's chambers, roaring all the way.
Torgo popped out, pallid.
"We're out of time!" Azel yelled. "They're going to come. Wake her up."
"What happened? I thought ..."
"I don't know what happened. You think I can read their minds? All of a suddenthey're around working on the Postern of Fate. Won't take them long to workthrough the pattern. So let's hit it!"
Trouble was, though they had talked about it, they had no plan for meetingthis challenge. Decisions were the province of the Witch. Even to Azel it hadseemed there would be time enough to get organized after she woke up.
"Take care of her. Get her moving. I'll go try to arrange something to slowthem down."
Torgo just stood there, mouth open, face pale, eyes dull.
"Move it, Torgo! Or we're all dead!"
Torgo drifted back into the Witch's chambers.
Azel limped on down to the main floor. He found the staff assembled already, terrified, alerted by his bellowing earlier. Here were all of Gorloch'ssurviving believers, eight men and twelve women. Not much to brag on. Azeltold the men, "You guys get out some weapons. They're going to come throughthe Postern of Fate. Nakar left a hundred tricks and traps. Set them up. Turnthem loose. We got to buy time till she can get down here to help."
They responded with no enthusiasm.
"Hey! You think about this. You remember this. They ain't going to leavenobody alive if they get in here. Not you, not me, not nobody." He eyed thewomen. What the hell was he going to do with them? "Any of you want to helpthe men, grab a weapon and go." Surprising him, four chose that course. "Allright. The rest of you go upstairs and see what Torgo has for you." He had anasty idea. "Wait! You. You. Go keep an eye on those kids. Be ready to movethem if I tell you."
The last two hurried off. Azel grabbed a lighted lamp and went down to visitNakar and Ala-eh-din Beyh, only once he got there he ignored them. He steppedaround one and over the other, carried the lamp into the darkness behind theimage of Gorloch. He passed through a doorway closed by dusty black curtains, entered a suite of rooms that had been used by priests before and afterceremonies. Those chambers had remained inviolate since Nakar had stepped outshortly before the arrival of Ala-eh-din Beyh. The Witch had been forbiddentrespass.
He hadn't forgotten his way around. He made several minor arrangements, thenwent to a wardrobe cabinet where sacerdotal robes and accessories still hung.
He eased between hangings, used a knife to probe a seam in the cabinet's back.
Something clicked.
The cabinet back swung away into darkness. Azel followed it into a hidden roomeight feet by eight. He lighted three lamps from his own, inventoried the room's contents.
Everything was there, as it had been when one of his duties had been tomaintain the bolt-hole.
There were three ways out. One tight crawlway wormed through the citadel wallsto debouch near the Postern of Fate. A vertical shaft climbed the citadel's tallest tower, the top of which was the highest point in Qushmarrah and couldbe seen from nowhere else. It could be reached only from this room.
The third exit lay beneath the floor. It burrowed deep into the earth.
He was satisfied. The escape option was covered. He topped off the oil in thethree lamps, left one burning. There would be no time to piddle away lightingone if a retreat became necessary. He closed up and went to find out how Torgowas doing with the Witch.
He muttered all the way, cursing his wounds.
Bel-Sidek sensed something amiss the moment the soldier let him into Meryel'shouse. Something had changed. He could not lay a finger on it immediately . .
.
He had left one of his own men on the door when he had slipped out. The manwho let him in was not one of his own.
The khadifas were waiting where he had left them with orders to compare theirresources in case it became necessary to take action. Hadribel was all puffedup with anger. King was red with embarrassment. Salom Edgit would not meet hiseye. Carza was smiling like a cat with feathers in its whiskers.
So.
Bel-Sidek faced Zenobel, who showed him nothing. "Surprise. You made your movebefore the fact."
"What?" Startled.
"I'd thought you'd make your play later. I'd forgotten you tend towardoverconfidence."
Zenobel did not look confident now.
King said, "We took a vote ..."
"I know. Four to one to overthrow the overly cautious General, with Hadribelcasting the dissenting vote and miffed enough to withhold the strength of theShu at a time when the organization is enfeebled already by its loss ofcontrol in the Hahr. Which now owes allegiance to the khadifa of the Shu. Sowhat do we have here? Shall I become a prophet and foretell the future?"
"By all means," Zenobel said, with less composure than he had possessed amoment ago.
"The movement will fall into two factions, the smaller loyal to the General'spicked successor, the other the more successful. Once the invaders evacuatethe city the war faction will split again when you and Carza try to shake off nuisances named King Dabdahd and Salom Edgit. We may see Living blood shed bythe Living. Then the final act, as you and Carza struggle for the right toshape Qushmarrah's destiny.
"About the time you get it sorted out Herodian legions will come to reclaim acity which has been too busy playing faction to prepare for their return."
He looked them all in the eye. Even Zenobel flinched.
He pushed out the door, to where four of Zenobel's men waited. "Take mewherever you're supposed to keep me confined."
The carpenter's conversation with the veydeen woman seemed personal, deservingof privacy. Yoseh drifted nearer Mo'atabar and the envoy.
The envoy wanted to speak ferrenghi. Mo'atabar refused. He was not going tolet the man hide from witnesses.
The man gave in. "Colonel Bruda sent me to find out what terms Fa'tad mightoffer."
"Go over to the Residence and talk to Fa'tad, then."
"I stopped there. No one was there. Your group are the only Dartars I canfind."
"Is that so?" Mo'atabar smiled nastily. "Then I'll have to tell you for him.
He wants all ferrenghi, military or civilian, and all veydeen with theferrenghi allegiance, to leave the city. You're to go on foot, taking only theclothing and shoes you're wearing, carrying only a small amount of food.
You're to go out the Gate of Autumn and march eastward. The deadline forcompliance is dawn tomorrow. Ferrenghi not on their way by then will be killedor sold as slaves."
The envoy wanted to argue but he knew finality when he heard it. "I'll relaythat to Colonel Bruda."
"Do that. I'm sure he'll want to spread the word and find out how desperatehis situation is. He can send messengers through the streets so long as theygo in uniform, unarmed, alone, with a red cloth tied around their left arms."
The veydeen ferrenghi struggled to keep his temper.
Mo'atabar smiled again.
The envoy spun around, stalked toward his wife. Mo'atabar pointed, indicatingthat Yoseh should stay near him. The man snapped at his woman, "Let's go!"
The mouse growled back. "I'm staying here. I'm going in there with them."
The man started to shout, froze, slammed his jaw shut, and whirled again. Heglowered at the citadel. "I'll be right back. I'll go with you." He ran off.
The carpenter said, "His son is in there, too."
"I was there," Yoseh reminded him. He faced the citadel himself. That child- taker was in there, probably. That short, wide killer to whom he had shown the Face of Death ... But only the carpenter knew. Right? And he would not know the significance of the act.