The trouble was, he had no experience with spears. He jabbed. The halberdierheld his weapon, both hands close together, near the middle of the shaft. Hesnapped it against Cappen's, deflected the thrust, and nearly tore theminstrel's out of his grasp. The watchman's return would have skewered hisenemy, had the minstrel not flopped straight to the marble.

The guard guffawed, braced his legs wide, swung the halberd back for an axe-headblow. As it descended, his hands shifted towards the end of the helve. Chipsflew. Cappen had rolled downstairs. He twirled the whole way to the ground andsprang erect. He still clutched his spear, which had bruised him whenever hecrossed above it. The sentry bellowed and hopped in pursuit. Cappen ran.

Behind them, a second guard sprawled and flopped, diminuendo, in what seemed animpossibly copious and bright amount of blood. Jamie had hurled his own spear ashe charged and taken the man in the neck. The third was giving the Northerner abrisk fight, halberd against claymore. He had longer reach, but the redhead hadmore brawn. Thump and clatter rang across the daisies.

Cappen's adversary was bigger than he was. This had the drawback that the formercould not change speed or direction as readily. When the guard was poundingalong at his best clip, ten or twelve feet in the rear, Cappen stopped within acoin's breadth, whirled about, and threw his shaft. He did not do that as hiscomrade had done. He pitched it between the guard's legs. The man crashed to thegrass. Cappen plunged in. He didn't risk trying for a stab. That would let thearmoured combatant grapple him. He wrenched the halberd loose and skipped off.

The sentinel rose. Cappen reached an oak and tossed the halberd. It lodged amongboughs. He drew blade. His foe did the same.

Shortsword versus rapier - much better, though Cappen must have a care. Thetorso opposing him was protected. Still, the human anatomy has more vulnerablepoints than that. 'Shall we dance?' Cappen asked.

As he and Jamie approached the house, a shadow slid across them. They glancedaloft and saw the gaunt black form of a sikkintair. For an instant, they nervedthemselves for the worst. However, the Flying Knife simply caught an updraught,planed high, and hovered in sinister magnificence. 'Belike they don't hunt menunless commanded to,' the Northerner speculated. 'Bear and buffalo are meatier.'

Cappen frowned at the scarlet walls before him. 'The next question,' he said,'is why nobody has come out against us.'

'Um, I'd deem those wights we left scattered around were the only fighting menhere. What task was theirs? Why, to keep the ladies from escaping, if those areallowed to walk outdoors by day. As for yon manse, while it's plenty big, Isuspect it's on loan from its owner. Naught but a few servants need be on hand and the women, let's hope. 1 don't suppose anybody happened to see our littlebrawl.'

The thought that they might effect the rescue - soon, safely, easily - wentthrough Cappen in a wave of dizziness. Afterwards - he and Jamie had discussedthat. If the temple hierophants, from Hazroah on down, were put under immediatearrest, that ought to dispose of the vengeance problem.

Gravel scrunched underfoot. Rose, jasmine, honeysuckle sweetened the air.Fountains leaped and chimed. The partners reached the main door. It was oaken,with many glass eyes inset; the knocker had the shape of a sikkintair.

Jamie leaned his spear, unsheathed his sword, turned the knob left-handed, andswung the door open. A maroon sumptuousness of carpet, hangings, upholsterybrooded beyond. He and Cappen entered. Inside were quietness and an odour likethat just before a thunderstorm.

A man in a deacon's black robe came through an archway, his tonsure agleam inthe dimness*'Did I hear - Oh!' he gasped, and scuttled backwards.

Jamie made a long arm and collared him. 'Not so fast, friend,' the warrior saidgenially. 'We've a request, and if you oblige, we won't get stains on thispretty rug. Where are your guests?'

'What, what, what,' the deacon gobbled.

Jamie shook him, in leisured wise lest he quite dislocate the shoulder. 'LadyRosanda, wife to Molin Torchholder, and her assistant Danlis. Take us to them.Oh, and we'd liefer not meet folk along the way. It might get messy if we did.'

The deacon fainted.

'Ah, well,' Jamie said. 'I hate the idea of cutting down unarmed men, butchances are they won't be foolhardy.' He filled his lungs. 'Rosanda!' he bawled.'Danlis! Jamie and Cappen Varra are here! Come on home!'

The volume almost bowled his companion over. 'Are you mad?' the minstrelexclaimed. 'You'll warn the whole staff -' A flash lit his mind: if they hadseen no further guards, surely there were none, and nothing corporeal remainedto fear. Yet every minute's delay heightened the danger of something else goingwrong. Somebody might find signs of invasion back in the temple; the gods aloneknew what lurked in this realm ... Yes, Jamie's judgement might prove mistaken,but it was the best he could have made.

Servitors appeared, and recoiled from naked steel. And then, and then -

Through a doorway strode Danlis. She led by the hand, or dragged, a halfhysterical Rosanda. Both were decently attired and neither looked abused, butpallor in cheeks and smudges under eyes bespoke what they must have suffered.

Cappen came nigh dropping his spear. 'Beloved!' he cried. 'Are you hale?'

'We've not been ill-treated in the flesh, aside from the snatching itself,' sheanswered efficiently. 'The threats, should Hazroah not get his way, have beencruel. Can we leave now?'

'Aye, the soonest, the best,' Jamie growled. 'Lead them on ahead, Cappen.' Hissword covered the rear. On his way out, he retrieved the spear he had left.

They started back over the garden paths. Danlis and Cappen between them musthelp Rosanda along. That woman's plump prettiness was lost in tears, moans,whimpers, and occasional screams. He paid scant attention. His gaze kept seekingthe clear profile of his darling. When her grey eyes turned towards him, hisheart became a lyre.

She parted her lips. He waited for her to ask in dazzlement, 'How did you everdo this, you unbelievable, wonderful men?'

'What have we ahead of us?' she wanted to know.

Well, it was an intelligent query. Cappen swallowed disappointment and sketchedthe immediate past. Now, he said, they'd return via the gate to the dome andmake their stealthy way from the temple, thence to Molin's dwelling for a joyousreunion. But then they must act promptly - yes, roust the Prince out of bed forauthorization - and occupy the temple and arrest everybody in sight before newtrouble got fetched from this world.

Rosanda gained some self-control as he talked. 'Oh, my, oh, my,' she wheezed,'you unbelievable, wonderful men.'

An ear-piercing trill slashed across her voice. The escapers looked behind them.At the entrance to the house stood a thickset middle-aged person in the scarletrobe of a ranking priest of Ils. He held a pipe to his mouth and blew.'Hazroah!' Rosanda shrilled. 'The ringleader!'

'The High Flamen -' Danlis began.

A rush in the air interrupted. Cappen flung his vision skyward and knew thenightmare was true. The sikkintair was descending. Hazroah had summoned it.

'Why, you son of a bitch!' Jamie roared. Still well behind the rest, he liftedhis spear, brought it back, flung it with his whole strength and weight. Thepoint went home in Hazroah's breast. Ribs did not stop it. He spouted blood,crumpled, and spouted no more. The shaft quivered above his body.