«Do you see that for once you worry too much?» Roshnani said. «Do you see that?»

Abivard held up his hand again, and she stopped. Genuine curiosity in his voice, he said, «Could Sharbaraz have ordered me slain last winter? Could I have died with the prophecies unfulfilled? What would have happened if he'd given the order? Could the headsman have carried it out?»

«There's another question the Videssians would exercise themselves over for years,» Roshnani answered. «All I can tell you is that I not only don't know, I'm glad we didn't have to find out. If you have to hope for a miracle to save yourself, you may not get it.»

«That's true enough,» Abivard said. The children's game broke down in a multisided squabble raucous enough to make him get up and restore order. He kept on wondering, though, all the rest of the day.

If you were going to be in the land of the Thousand Cities, the very beginning of spring was the time to do it. The weather hadn't yet grown unbearably hot, the flies and mosquitoes weren't too bad, and a steady breeze from the northwest helped blow smoke away from the cities instead of letting it accumulate in foglike drifts, as could happen in the still air of summer.

Beroshesh, the city governor of Nashvar, did a magnificent job of concealing his delight at Abivard's return. «Are you going to flood us out again?» he demanded, and then, remembering his manners, added, «Lord?»

«I'll do whatever needs doing to drive the Videssians from the domain of Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase,» Abivard answered. Casually, he asked, «Have you heard the news? Sharbaraz' principal wife is with child, and the wizards believe it will be a boy.»

«Congratulations are due her, I'm sure, but why do you—?» Beroshesh stopped the rather offhanded question as he remembered who Sharbaraz' principal wife was and what relation she held to Abivard. When he spoke again, his tone was more conciliatory: «Of course, lord, I shall endeavor to conform to any requirements you may have of me.»

«I knew you would,» Abivard lied politely. Then, finding a truth he could tell, he went on, «Turan and Tzikas both tell me you have done well in keeping the army supplied through the winter.»

«Even with the ravages of the Videssians, the land of the Thousand Cities remains rich and fertile,» Beroshesh said. «We had no trouble supplying the army's wants.»

«So I heard, and as I say, I'm glad of it,» Abivard told him. The floodplain was indeed rich and fertile if, even after all the damage it had suffered through the previous year, it still yielded surplus enough to feed the army on top of the peasantry.

«What do you expect Maniakes to do this season?» Beroshesh asked. «Will he come here at all? Will he come from north or south or straight out of the east?»

«Good question,» Abivard said enthusiastically, making as if to applaud. «If you should have a good answer for it, please let me know. Whichever way he comes, though, I'll fight him. Of that I'm sure.» He hesitated. «Fairly sure.» He couldn't know for certain the scrying Bogorz had shown him would come to pass in this campaigning season, but that did seem to be the way to bet.

Beroshesh said, «Lord, you have been fighting this Maniakes for many years. Do you not know in your mind what will be in bis?»

That was a legitimate question. In fact, it was better than a legitimate question; it was a downright clever question. Abivard gave it the careful thought it deserved before answering, «My best guess is that he'll do whatever he doesn't think we'll expect him to do. Whether that means setting out from Lyssaion again or picking a new way to get at us, I can't really tell, I fear. Trying to fathom the way Videssians think is like looking into several mirrors reflecting one from another, so that after a while what's reflection and what's real blur together.»

«If the God be kind, the barbarians who infest his—southern—frontier, is it?» Beroshesh hesitated.

«Northern frontier,» Abivard said, not unkindly. There was no reason for a city governor to have any clear notion of Videssian geography, especially for the lands on the far side of the imperial capital.

«Yes, the northern frontier. Thank you, lord. If they were to attack Maniakes, he could hardly assail us here and defend against them at the same time, could he?»

«It's not something I'd want to try, I'll tell you that,» Abivard said. «Yes, the God would be kind if he turned the Kubratoi—that's what the barbarians call themselves—loose on Videssos again. The only trouble is, Maniakes beat them badly enough to make them thoughtful about having another go at him.»

«Pity,» Beroshesh murmured. He clapped his hands loudly. «How much you know about these distant peoples! Surely you and they must have worked together closely when you forced your way to the very end of the Videssian westlands.»

«I wish we would have,» Abivard said. No, Beroshesh didn't know much about how the Empire of Videssos was made and how it operated. «But Videssos the city, you see, kept the Kubratoi from crossing over to join us, and the Videssian navy not only kept us from going over the Cattle Crossing to lay siege to the city, it also kept the Kubratoi from going over to the westlands in the boats they make. Together, we might have crushed Videssos, but Maniakes and his forces and fortress held us apart.»

«Pity,» Beroshesh said again. He pointed to a silver flagon. «More wine?»

It was date wine. «No, thank you,» Abivard said. He would drink a cup for politeness' sake but had never been fond of the cloying stuff.

Quite seriously Beroshesh asked, «Could you not put your soldiers on barges and in skin boats and cross this Cattle Crossing without the Videssians' being the wiser till you appeared on the far shore?»

Beroshesh had never seen the sea, never seen a Videssian war galley. Abivard remembered that as he visualized a fleet of those swift, maneuverable, deadly galleys descending on rafts and round skin boats trying to make their way over the Cattle Crossing. He saw in his mind's eye rams sending some of them to the bottom and dart-throwers and fire-throwers wrecking many more. He might get a few men across alive, but even fewer in any condition to fight; he was all too sure of that.

Out of respect for Beroshesh's naivete, he didn't laugh in the city governor's face. All he said was, «That has been discussed, but no one seems to think it would turn out well.»

«Ah,» Beroshesh said «Well, I didn't want to take the chance that you'd overlooked something important.» Abivard sighed.

«Lord!» A member of the city garrison of Nashvar came running up to Abivard. «Lord, a messenger comes with news of the Videssians.»

«Thank you,» Abivard said. «Bring him to me at once.» The guardsman bowed and hurried away.

Waiting for his return, Abivard paced back and forth in the room Beroshesh had returned to him when he had come back to Nashvar. Soon, instead of having to guess, he would know how Maniakes intended to play the game this year and how he would have to respond.

The soldier came back more slowly than he'd hoped, leading the messenger's horse. The messenger probably would have gotten there sooner without the escort, but after so long a wait, a few minutes mattered little, and the member of the garrison got to enjoy his moment in the light.

Bowing low to Abivard, the messenger cried, «Lord, the Videssians come down from the north, from the land of Erzerum, where treacherous local nobles let them land and guided them through the mountains so they could descend on the land of the Thousand Cities!»

«Down from the north,» Abivard breathed. Had he bet on which course Maniakes would take, he would have expected the Avtokrator to land in the south and move up from Lyssaion once more. He knew nothing but relief that he'd committed no troops to backing his hunch. He wouldn't have to double back against his foe's move.