"I worry. And I'm sure others do, too. If something happens suddenly, hispassion for secrecy will leave us all in the dark."

"He claims he's made arrangements. How good I couldn't say. I live with himand don't know what he's doing most of the time."

"What's this big event he was talking about?"

That's one of the things I don't know. He throws me out of the house when heeven wants to think about it. You ask too many questions. That isn't a habithe encourages."

Hadribel accepted the rebuke sullenly. Bel-Sidek did not care. This was not aman whose good opinion concerned him. Politics. You had to get along with, mixwith, people you wouldn't speak to in a lifetime otherwise.

He waited in the street while Hadribel and his sons assembled the crew he wanted. It took them only fifteen minutes. The Shu organization wasefficiently managed.

Bel-Sidek took the men away from the Shu before he explained that they weregoing to capture a Herodian agent who would be coming out of Government Housebefore long. He did not identify the spy. He told them the man was not to beharmed if at all possible.

"He should leave the door on the east side. He'll want to get out of sightquickly so he'll head for one of the streets that begin right across theplaza." He quizzed the men to make sure they knew the area. Most knew it aswell as he did, which was all part of being a member of the movement.

Knowledge was a weapon, too.

"You'll spread out, then, and let him get off the plaza. Then you'll herd himtoward me. I'm sure you all know the drill. We've done it before. You don'thave to get close enough for him to see you. He just has to know you're thereand you're moving toward him."

Usually the tactic was employed when the Living did not want the huntersrecognized afterward. This time bel-Sidek hoped to keep his quarry anonymous.

Naszif would not survive long if he was recognized. These men did not concern themselves with the niceties of strategy or policy. For them traitor and deadwere synonymous.

Hoping he was not too late, bel-Sidek dispersed his troops and began the wait.

On the harbor side the fog was drawing its mask over Qushmarrah. There on theeast face of the hill the air was getting hazy, the haze catching a weirdgreenish tint from the just risen nail paring of a moon.

As he slipped out of Government House, Naszif, the son of bel-Abek, was in asfine a mood as ever he'd known. It had been a day of days; almost enough tocounterbalance the misery of the day before. First, the promotion. Third inthe Living in the Shu. And the rumor was, that was as good as being secondbecause the khadifa of the Shu was reputed to be some pre-conquest lord whohad gone into a coma years ago but was of such high family they dared not puthim aside.

At last he had attained a position of power and influence- and, moreimportant, of access. He would know what was going on inside the organization.

He would know who was who. He would sit in on policy, planning, and strategysessions.

Colonel Bruda and General Cado were as excited as he was. A long-agoinvestment had begun to pay dividends. They had doubled his good fortuneimmediately by promoting him to vice-colonel in the Herodian army. His beingable to confirm the probability that Ortbal Sagdet had been khadifa of theHahr had pleased General Cado, too.

He felt the forty gold double sudets that represented his promotion bonus. Hesmiled. He could now afford to get his family out of the Shu. But his missionprevented his doing so. Maybe a second household? Would his several mastersaccept that?

His mood darkened when he thought of Zouki. His family had been gutted ...

He was too excited to pay proper attention to his surroundings, too thrilledto heed the old specter of guilt that had haunted him since that night at theSeven Towers. He did not feel the weight of fear that so often perched uponhis shoulders. He missed completely the first couple of moves made by the menstalking him.

The scrape of a foot in the stillness, the flash of a garment in motion caughtfrom the corner of his eye, and stark terror usurped his joy. It did not takea minute to understand what was happening. He had helped ran Herodians when hewas a ground-level man.

He fought the panic. Panic was the enemy's ally. If he refused to let itcontrol him he might find a way out. Up to a rooftop. Down into a basement.

They could not cover everything. He tried to remember how some victims hadgotten away back when he was on the other end.

Then he realized that they must know who they were running. They had beenwaiting for him. They knew he had gone inside. The promotion ... A ploy tosend him scurrying to Cado, to betray himself?

Then it would not matter if he evaded them. They would catch him at home. Theymight tell Reyha ...

He did panic then.

He ran.

All he could think of was getting back to General Cado. The Herodians tookcare of their own.

The soldiers of the Living were good. There came a moment when he was standingin the street, uncertain which way to go. A block behind, four vague shapeswalked his way. Three men waited in each mouth of a cross street. Nothing layahead but haze lighted greenly by the moon. He went the direction they wantedhim to go. And as he started a man stepped into his path, a limpingsilhouette. A man he knew.

"You can stop running now, Naszif. You have nowhere to go. Come. Walk with me.

Quietly. Unless you'd rather I let those others know who you are."

"No! By Aram, don't." He giggled. How long since he had sworn by Aram andmeant it? If secretly, he had adopted Herod, faceless god and all.

He was a vice-colonel, damn it. They would not murder him. They would ransomhim. Trade him for somebody. He wished he had told Cado he thought the manHadribel was going to take over in the Hahr instead of saving that for later.

The Living would trade him and more to get a khadifa back.

"Come. Let's walk." The voice was harder now. "We'll go to my house and talk."

"Your father ..."

"Is a harmless old man. He's nearly blind, and his hearing is what you wouldexpect of someone his age. And he's dying. He's much too preoccupied with thatto care about you."

Naszif glanced around.

"Yes. They're out there. Come. They're death. I'm life."

Resignation swept over Naszif. Almost, he felt relieved. There were nopressures now. No need to pretend. Everything was in other hands.

"You'll be watched. If you leave home, you'll be followed. If you move towardGovernment House you'll be killed. Good night." Bel-Sidek closed the door, leaned against it. A long night, not over yet, and he was supposed to returnto Meryel's when it was done. "You heard, sir?"

"Every word. A vice-colonel in the Herodian army. The human animal neverceases to amaze me. We know traitors seldom act out of fear and less often out of greed. We seldom fathom what does motivate them."

Bel-Sidek muttered, "He never took anything but the salaries due him as aHerodian officer."

"A traitor for love. The triumph or defeat of Qushmarrah meant nothing to himwhen the struggle meant he had to be separated from his wife while she gavebirth. He sold Qushmarrah for that. And that bastard Bruda really tried to gethim here in time." The old man chuckled. "Those slimy bastards always keep their word. Damn them."

"He's really a vice-colonel? That commission isn't just a piece of paper theygave him?"

"It was real. Oh, if they pulled him out of here they wouldn't turn him loosewith a field command. He isn't qualified. But something administrative, yes. Ajob like Bruda's, in Tuhn or Agadar."

"My hold on him is inadequate, then. I should have killed him."

"He'll remain controllable as long as he doesn't get near Cado. And for aslong as it takes him to find the nerve to tell his wife that he's become aranking Herodian officer. If his love is as strong as it seems, I suspect thedepths of hers will reflect it and she'll be up to accepting what he is." Then I do have no choice." "He's stillvulnerable. Through his weakness. Love. You will tell him that we have his sonand will hold him as a surety for his performance."