What am I doing, getting sentimental about Sanctuary/ thought Lalo as heinspected the sole of his sandal to see if any ordure remained. I must have hadmore wine than I thought! He had heard that in Ranke, armies of street cleanersscoured the streets every night to rid the city of the refuse of the day. ...

He remembered the flatteries of Lord Raxi-mander and that strange man, Zanderei,and he remembered the days when his one desire had been to get out of Sanctuary.It seemed to him that his life had consisted of cycles in which he dreamed ofescape, found new hope for life in Sanctuary, discovered that his hope wasunjustified, and began to plan flight once more.

This last time, when he had found that if he stuck to mythological subjects andchose his models carefully he could turn Enas Yorl's gift to a blessing, he hadbeen sure that his troubles were over. But now here he was, bewailing his fateagain.

I should have learned better by now ... he thought morosely, but what is thereto Jearn? Wii] anything but death stop this wheel or make it take a differentpath?

Houses leaned close together above him now, cutting off the sky. In some of thewindows lamplight glowed, though most of them were tightly shuttered, edged andchinked with light that dappled the worn cobbles below. Lalo winced as a murmurof voices exploded into abuse. A mangy dog that had been nosing at something inthe gutters looked up at the noise, then went back to its meal.

Lalo shuddered, visualizing death as a starving jackal-hound waiting to spring.There must be some other way-he told himself, for however much he hated hislife, he feared death more.

Human shadows slid from the shadows behind him, and he forced himself to walksteadily, knowing that at this hour, in this part of Sanctuary, it was indeeddeath to be visibly afraid. By daylight the area shared in the quasirespectability of the Bazaar, but by night it belonged to the Maze.

From ahead came the sound of drunken song and a burst of laughter. Torchlightdanced around the corner followed by the singers, a group of mercenariesemboldened by numbers to make the pilgrimage to the ale casks of the VulgarUnicorn.

As the light reached them, the shapes that had followed Lalo slipped back intoalleys and doorways, and Lalo himself edged beneath the overhang of a tenementuntil the soldiers had gone by. He had almost reached Slippery Street now, andthe cul-de-sac which for twenty years had been his home.

Now, at last, Lalo allowed himself to hasten, for in all the ups and downs ofhis fortunes there had been one constant, and that was the knowledge that he hada home, and that Gilla waited for him there.

The third step of the staircase squeaked, as did the seventh and the eighth.When Lalo had become fashionable and had, for the first time in his life, hadmoney, he and Gilla had bought the building in which they lived and repaired,among other things, the staircase. But the stairs still squeaked, and Lalo,hearing the lullaby Gilla was singing to their youngest child halt a moment,knew that she had heard him coming home.

Breathing a little faster than he would have liked after the climb, he openedthe door.

"You're home early!" The floor quivered beneath her steps as Gilla came throughthe door of what had once been the adjoining apartment. Lalo saw beyond her thecurly head of their youngest, whom they still called the baby even though he wasnow nearly two years old, and the outstretched arm of an older child.

"Is everything all right?" Lalo unfastened his cloak and hung it on the peg.

"It was only a nightmare-" softly she closed the door. "And what about you? Iwas sure you would be at the Palace all night, imbibing the wine of paradisewith all the great ones and their gilded ladies." The carved chair groanedfaintly as she sat down and lifted her massive arms to pat the elaborate curlsand coils of her hair.

"There weren't any ladies-" tactfully he passed over the dancing girls, "just anunlikely mixture of military and priests and government men, like a stew fromthe Bazaar!"

She set her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. "If it was sucha bore why did you stay so long? Don't tell me they wouldn't let you go?" Hereyes narrowed and he flushed a little beneath the acuity of her gaze.Deliberately he began to unhook his vest, waiting for her to speak again.

"Something happened-" she said then. "Something's troubling you."

He draped his vest across another chair and sat down in it with a sigh.

"Gilla, what would you say to the idea of leaving Sanctuary?" Beyond her hecould see his first study for the picture of Sabellia which graced the greatTemple now. Gilla had been his model, and for a moment he saw a double image ofwoman and Goddess, and her bulk took on a monumental dignity.

She put down her arm and sat up straight. "Now, when we are secure at last?"

"How secure can anyone be, here?" He hunched forward, running stubby craftsman'sfingers through his thinning hair. Then he told her how they had praised hispicture, and what the future Lord Raximander had offered him.

"Ranke!" she exclaimed when he had finished. "Clean streets and quiet nights!But what would I do there? All the fine ladies would laugh at me...." For amoment she looked curiously vulnerable, despite her size. Then her eyes met his."But you said he wanted a portrait-Lalo, you can't do that-you'll end up in theImperial dungeons, not the court!"

"Even there? Surely there must be some honest men and virtuous women at theheart of the Empire!" Lalo said wistfully.

"Will you never grow up? We are doing very well as we are-you have a position,people like what you do, and the children will be well-apprenticed and marriedwhen the time comes. And now you want to go chase some other dream? Why can'tyou make up your mind?"

He put his hands over his aching eyes and shook his head. If only he knew-therewas something missing in him, something that he sought in each new thing hetried to do ... What use has it been to have my heart's desire? he thought, if Imyself am still the same?

After a little he heard the chair scrape and felt her coming to him, and sighedagain, more deeply, as the strength and softness of her arms enclosed him. Shehad scented her skin with oil of sandalwood, and he could feel the opulence ofher body through the thin silk of the night-robe she wore.

It changed nothing, but in her arms he could forget his perplexities for atleast a little while. Gilla kissed him on his bald spot and drew away, and witha sense of having made a truce with fate he followed her into the other room.

"Thieves!"

Lalo jerked upright, shocked from sleep by Gilla's scream and the crash that hadshaken the room. Was it morning? But everything was still dark! He rubbed hiseyes, still half-drugged by dreams of marble terraces and applause.

Shadows moved and feet that no longer troubled to be stealthy thudded on thefloor... hard hands grasped Lalo's shoulders and he cried out. Then somethinghit the side of his head and he sagged against the hard hands that prisoned him.

"Murderers! Assassins!"

His head still ringing, Lalo recognized Gilla in the voice, and in the dark bulkthat heaved upward from the bed to fling another assailant against the wall.Water spattered his cheek and he smelt roses as the vase that had stood on thebedside table flew past him and shattered against someone's skull. Men caromedinto each other swearing as Gilla groped forward. There was no sound from theirneighbors-he had not really expected it-they would ask their questions whenmorning came.