"If I were to go along, what do you plan to do with all that money-go live off it for a while? Drink it away?"

"I need the money to buy a wagon and a team of horses."

The frown knotted tighter. "What do you need with a wagon?"

"I need the wagon to deliver you all the iron you're going to buy from me because I can get it for you cheaper, and because I can deliver it when you need it."

"You looking to get buried in the sky?"

Richard smiled. "No. I just happen to think that the emperor wants his palace built. From what I've heard, they have a lot of slave labor down there-people they've captured. But they don't have enough slave labor to do it all for them. They need people like you, and the foundries.

"If the officials of the Order want to have the work progress-and not have to explain to Emperor Jagang why it isn't they will be inclined to look the other way. In that narrow crack of need, there is opportunity. I expect I'll have to bribe a few officials to get them to be busy elsewhere when I come to pick up loads, but I've already figured that cost into it. I'll be acting on behalf of myself, not an established transport company, so they will be more inclined to see this as a way of accomplish ing what they need without suspending their morass of restrictions.

"You will be getting iron for less than you pay now, and I can deliver.

You can't even get what you need at the higher price. You will make more, too. We both benefit."

The blacksmith stared for a moment as he tried to find a flaw in Richard's plan.

"You're either the stupidest crook I ever saw, or the. . I don't even know what. But I have Brother Narev breathing down my neck, and that isn't pleasant. Not pleasant at all. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you know how Ishaq sweats over me? I sweat ten times that much when Brother Narev comes to ask why the tools aren't ready. The brothers don't want to hear my troubles, they just want what they want."

"I understand, Mr. Cascella."

He let out a sigh. "All right, Richard Cypher, one and a half gold marks for fifty bars delivered by dawn tomorrow-but I'll only give you the one and a quarter now. You get the other quarter mark in the morning, when my iron is here."

"Agreed. Who is this Brother Narev, anyway?"

"Brother Narev? He's the high priest-"

"Did I hear someone mention my name?" The voice was deep enough to nearly rattle the tools off the walls.

Richard and the blacksmith turned to see a man approaching from around the corner of the shop. Here and there, his heavy robes betrayed his large bony frame. His face seemed to pull the gathering darkness into the deep creases of his face. Dark eyes gleamed out from under a hooded brow overspread with a tangle of graying hairs. Wiry hair above his ears curled up from under the edges of a dark, creased cap. The cap sat halfway down his forehead. He looked like a shadow come to life to stalk the world.

Mr. Cascella bowed. Richard followed his lead.

"We were just discussing the problem of getting enough iron, Brother Narev."

"Where are all my new chisels, blacksmith?"

"I have yet to-"

"I have stone sitting down there with no chisels to cut it. I have stonecutters who need more tools. You are holding up my palace."

The blacksmith lifted a hand toward Richard. "This is Richard Cypher, Brother Narev. He was just telling me how he thought he might be able get me the iron I need and-"

The high priest held up his hand for silence.

"You can get the blacksmith what he needs?" Brother Narev snapped at Richard.

"It can be done."

"Then do it."

Richard bowed his head. "By your command, Brother Narev."

The shadowed figure turned to the shop. "Show me, blacksmith."

The blacksmith seemed to know what the high priest wanted and followed behind him, gesturing for Richard to come along. Richard understood; he couldn't get the money to buy the iron until the blacksmith first took care of the important man who had just vanished into the shadows of the shop.

When the blacksmith snapped his fingers and pointed at a lamp on his way by, Richard snatched it up. He lit a long splinter in the glowing coals of the forge and then lit the lamp. He held it up behind the two men as they stood just inside the doorway to the room with the complex contraption of metal bars sitting on the floor beyond.

Mr. Cascella held the chalkboard up in the light. Brother Narev looked at the drawing on the chalkboard, then to the maze of iron lines on the floor, comparing them.

Richard felt an icy tingle at the base of his scalp when he suddenly realized what the thing on the floor was.

Brother Narev pointed to the drawing, to the line Richard had said was wrong.

"This line is wrong," Brother Narev growled.

The blacksmith wagged his finger over the chalk drawing. "But I have to stabilize this mass over here."

"I told you to add braces, I didn't invite you to ruin the main scheme.

You can leave the top of the support where you have it, but the bottom should be attached. . here."

Brother Narev pointed to where Richard had said it should go.

Mr. Cascella scratched his head of short hair as he stole a glance over his shoulder just long enough to scowl at Richard.

"That would work," the blacksmith conceded. "It won't be as easy, but it will work."

"I'm not concerned with how easy it is," Brother Narev said with menace. "I don't want anything attached to this area, here."

"No, sir."

"It must be seamless, so none of the joining work shows through when it is covered in gold. Get me those tools made, first."

"Yes, Brother Narev."

The high priest turned an uncomfortable scrutiny on Richard. "There's something about you…. Do I know you?"

"No, Brother Narev. I've never before met you. I would remember.

Meeting a great man such as yourself, I mean. I would remember such a thing."

He glared askance at Richard. "Yes, I suppose you would. You get the blacksmith his iron."

"I said I would."

The Brother grunted irritably. "So you did."

As the tall shadow of a man stared into Richard's eyes, Richard absently reached to lift his sword a little to make sure it was clear in its scabbard. The sword wasn't there.

Brother Narev opened his mouth to say something, but his attention was caught by two young men entering the shop. They wore robes like the high priest, but without caps. They had simple hoods pulled up over their heads, instead.

"Brother Narev," one called.

"What is it, Neal?"

"The book you sent for has arrived. You asked that we come for you at once."

Brother Narev nodded to the young disciple, then directed a sour look at Mr. Cascella and Richard.

"Get it done," he said to both.

Both Richard and the blacksmith bowed their heads as the high priest swept out of the shop.

It felt as if a thundercloud had just departed over the horizon.

"Come on," Mr. Cascella said. "I'll get you the gold."

Richard followed him into a little room where the master blacksmith pulled out a strongbox attached with massive chain to a huge pin in the floor under the plank serving as his desk. He unlocked the strongbox and handed Richard a gold mark.

"Victor."

Richard looked up from the gold mark and frowned. "What?"

"Victor. You asked what more there was to my name." He set silver to make up the quarter mark on top of the gold mark resting in Richard's palm.

"Victor."