Monkel laughed. "That's a strange thing to say to someone who makes his livingpulling creatures from the sea."

"Catching and killing for food is one thing. Trying to tame..."

Hakiem broke off speaking and laid a hand on Monkel's arm. Monkel looked, andjerked his line in almost the same instant, a reflex not unlike setting a hook.

A piercing scream and a flutter of wings announced his success as a dark bundleof feathers struggled vainly to escape the net's folds.

"Got it!" Monkel exclaimed, rising to his feet. "My thanks, Lord Adviser: youralertness has speeded my success."

Hakiem shook his head as he turned to go.

"Do not thank me yet," he said darkly. "This tale's not over, if it has evenbegun yet. I only hope its conclusion is to your liking."

Monkel heard none of this, for with the urgency of youth, he was already movingto secure his prize... or rather, what he felt sure would be the means to hisprize.

As the days stretched into weeks, Monkel had more than one occasion to questionhis choice of gift for Uralai. The bird staunchly refused to be tamed.

Closer examination of his catch had shown a bird unlike any Monkel could recallhaving seen, though admittedly he had spent little time studying land-birds. Itwas roughly the size of a raven, though its vaguely hooked beak would lead someto think of it as a hawk, and black as the sea at night. Dominating its featureswas a pair of bright yellow eyes which seemed at once soul-piercing with theiranalytic coldness, and smoldering with an ill-repressed fury that one normallyonly sees in a death match with a blood enemy.

When Monkel gave the bird the freedom of his quarters it began methodicallybreaking every item vaguely fragile and several he had thought beyond damage.When he packed the few remaining valuables away, the bird countered by leavingits droppings on his clothes and bedding and gouging and splintering hisfurniture with its beak.

As to Monkel himself, the bird's attitude varied. Sometimes it would flee interror, crashing headlong into the wall in its efforts to escape, and at othertimes it would fly in his face, screaming its outrage while contesting his rightto even enter the room. Mostly, it would play coy, letting him approach withoutstretched hand only to flutter away to wait again on another perch... orbetter still, climb onto his hand momentarily, then use its beak in a slashingmove to draw blood from his hand or face before taking to the air.

The bird thought it was terrific fun. The thoughts of Monkel himself, with anincreasing number of scars and half-healed wounds adorning his features andappendages, are best left unrecorded save to note that he often found himselfwondering if the bird was edible. At this point in their duel, simply killing itwould have been an insufficient expression of his frustration.

The final breakthrough was triggered by a conversation with one of his clanmembers. Clan Setmur was growing more and more concerned about his attempts atbird taming. Not only was it leaving him in a perpetually foul mood, it wasdrawing unwanted attention to the wharf community. Whether his friends at thecaptains' table had let the news leak or if Hakiem was not as retired fromstorytelling as he claimed was inconsequential. What mattered was that it wasnow common knowledge on the streets of Sanctuary that one of the Beysibfishermen had caught a black bird and was trying to tame it. Curiosity seekersappeared in a surprising array of rank and status. Barflies and S'danzo seers,petty criminals and self-proclaimed emissaries of the crime-lord Jubal all wereasking questions with varying degrees of subtlety regarding the bird and itstrainer. Once, a dark mysterious woman reputedly never seen by the light of daywas heard to make inquiries.

To one and all, clan Setmur claimed ignorance, but, as a normally quiet privatepeople, they were distressed at this sudden notoriety. Having failed in theirefforts to convince Monkel to abandon his task completely, they instead pliedhim with every bit of advice they could think of to bring his project to asuccessful and, above all, speedy conclusion.

Thus it was that Monkel was approached by Paratu, one of his cousins, as theirship approached Sanctuary after a day's fishing.

"Have you considered treating the bird like a person?" she said withoutpreamble. "Perhaps it resents your attitude."

Monkel found himself smiling in spite of himself.

"Whatever led you to that idea?"

In response, Paratu gestured toward the city.

"I was recalling what you told us when we first arrived at this hellhole...about dealing with the residents of Sanctuary. You said we shouldn't think ofthem as animals. That if we treated them as people, they would respond as suchand everyone would benefit. Well, your advice worked, and it occurred to methat, like the people, the bird is from the city. Maybe the same approach wouldwork for you now."

"There's one problem with that, Paratu. The bird is an animal."

"So are the people," she said, staring at the town. "They respond to respect,and I frankly doubt you could find more than a handful that are any smarter thanyour bird."

Monkel had laughed openly then, but later gave the suggestion seriousconsideration.

Starting that very night, he began talking to the bird... not with the simplecommands of a trainer, but open conversation as one would have with a closefriend. He spoke of his previous life, of his fears in coming to this new land,and of his achievements thus far in his period of clan leadership. He told thebird of the elegance of the Beysa's court and of Uralai's beauty. Once he gotstarted, talking to the bird became an easy habit, for, in truth, Monkel was alonely man made lonelier by the pressures of leadership.

To his amazement, the bird responded almost immediately ... or, to be accurate,it stopped responding. Instead of flying in terror or slashing at his face, itwould sit quietly on his hand, head cocked to one side as if hanging on hisevery word. Soon, he became bold enough to set the bird on his shoulder, whereit was in easy reach of an ear and an eye. The bird never betrayed this trust.If anything, it seemed to glory in its new perch and would flutter quickly toMonkel's shoulder as soon as he entered the room.

After a week of this, Monkel tried taking it outside and, in a final test, wouldtransfer it to other people's shoulders. Through it all, the bird remained wellmannered and tolerant. Though suspicious of its sudden domesticity, Monkeldecided it was time to make his presentation. If he waited much longer, he knewhe would have grown too attached to the bird to give it up.

"You'll see. She's very beautiful, just like I told you."

The bird regarded Monkel with an expressionless yellow eye, ignoring thesweetmeat he was offering as a bribe.

With an inward sigh, the head of clan Setmur twisted in his chair to peer downthe palace corridor once more, then resumed staring out the window.

He had considered presenting his gift to Uralai in the Beysa's court, but hisconfidence sagged and he decided to wait and catch her coming off duty. He stillhad lingering fears about the reliability of the bird's manners, and while amishap while presenting it to Uralai would be embarrassing, the same slip infront of the Empress would be a disaster.

"You'll like it here," he murmured, more for his own reassurance than for thebird's. "It's definitely a step up from fighting for gutter scraps. I'll bet anybey art-those are our own holy birds-would envy the treatment you'll..."