A tremendous buffet on the cage jerked Linsha abruptly awake. Confused, she stared Wearily. Warriors stood before her, and above was a darkening sky. The Tarmaks lowered the cage until it touched the ground, unlocked the door, and hauled her out. Her numb feet and aching knees would not support her, so the guards had to carry her out of the prison yard, through the great hall, and to the large front courtyard where Iyesta used to meet with her human guests.

Linsha stared around the courtyard in amazement. At last she could see what all the noise had been about. Slave gangs had spent the day demolishing the front entrance to the dragon’s throne room. The great double doors where the brass triplets used to stand guard were gone-as was most of the front wall that supported the door frame. Two huge piles of stone and rubble had been heaped near the gate, and more had been dumped within the throne room. Although she had accepted the reality of Iyesta’s death, she could not help but be sick at heart at the destruction of her lair.

Just outside the broken walls, a large, spacious tent had been set up for the Tarmak officers. Several of its walls had been rolled up to allow a breeze, and guards stood impassively around the perimeter. Torches burned at all four corners, and plain oil lamps cast a yellow glow in the interior.

Linsha saw the tent and realized what was coming. Her stomach twisted into knots. She pulled fiercely away from her guards and snapped, “Put me down!”

They must have understood enough Common or understood her desire to walk unaided, for they lowered her feet to the ground and allowed her to walk between them. She staggered a little on her wobbly legs then hauled herself upright as she was escorted into the tent and brought before the Tarmak general. She stood straight, her head up, and watched him warily as the guards bowed to their lord.

One guard beside her jabbed the butt of his spear into the back of her knee. Her leg buckled and she fell sideways to the rugged floor.

“You will kneel in the presence of the Akkad-Ur,” the guard growled.

“Akkad-Ur,” the second guard said, and he launched into a long speech in the rough, guttural tongue of the Tarmaks.

Linsha pushed herself to her knees and sat upright on her heels. Kneel she might. Grovel she would not. Casting a quick look around, she realized this tent was the same-or at least a copy-to the one she had been in before when the Tarmaks had left her to find the Abyssal Lance. The general sat in the same carved couch padded with pelts. A low table sat to his left-still covered with writing implements, scrolls, and what looked like building plans. The ornate banner decorated with the lion and the geometric designs still hung in its accustomed place behind him.

The general had not changed much in the past few months. He was still a magnificent specimen of a Tarmak, statuesque and dangerous. The war paint was absent this night, revealing his fair skin and numerous scars, and his kilted skirt had been replaced with a linen cuirass decorated with small disks of brass that looked suspiciously like brass dragon scales. The general gestured his warriors to leave and silently watched Linsha in front of him.

“You are called Akkad-Ur?” she said before he could address her.

The golden mask stared down at her. “Akkad is a rank, Lady Knight. It is similar to your rank of general. Ur is part of my name.” He continued to study her for a few moments, then he called out something.

Immediately two women entered the tent carrying several basins, jugs, and towels. Linsha stared in astonishment at one she recognized-a lovely buxom blond with flexible legs and a talent for turning a profit with her body. It was the courtesan Callista, the favorite of the captain of the city watch and one of Linsha’s informers. After Linsha’s flight from the Solamnic citadel, Callista had loaned her some clothes to escape detection. Since then Linsha had neither seen nor heard from the woman. She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question, but Callista shot a furtive glance at the Akkad-Ur and gave her head a quick shake.

She and her companion laid their burdens down in front of Linsha, helped her to her feet, and to her utter mortification, stripped off her clothes. Not that the clothes were in excellent repair or that Linsha was sentimentally attached to them. They were filthy and little more than rags. But now she stood naked in front of the Akkad-Ur. Her embarrassment burned in her face. Silently, while the Tarmak watched, the women washed Linsha with water and soap from the basins. They cleaned off days of sweat, blood, dirt, and grime. They washed her hair and rubbed her muscles with a sweet oil. Callista’s eyes widened at the number of scars and the half-healed wound on Linsha’s body, yet she said nothing.

If Linsha hadn’t been so unnerved by the sight of the Tarmak general sitting only a few feet away, she would have enjoyed this first cleaning she had had in days and the attention of someone other than smelly, grumpy men. She wanted to talk to Callista, to ask her a dozen questions, to inquire if she was all right and why she was in the service of the general. And more than anything she wanted a drink of water!

But for Callista’s sake, she gritted her teeth and said nothing until the ladies gathered their jugs and basins and prepared to leave. Only then did Linsha realize they had not brought extra clothes with them, and they were picking hers up to carry them away. She held out her hand in entreaty, and Callista could only shrug a bit and hurry after her companion, leaving Linsha alone with the Akkad-Ur.

The general chuckled, a rumbling sound behind his mask. “My informant was right. You do clean up well. You should not feel embarrassed by your nakedness. In our world, the body is a utensil to care for and use well. You have the body of a warrior-a thing that would bring you much respect in my city.”

Linsha wasn’t sure whether she should feel complimented or threatened. She stood still, trying to feel at ease, and waited for him to make a move. When he did nothing but continue to study her, she lost patience. She did not believe she was particularly desirable. Compared to someone like Callista, she was too thin, too old. Her breasts were small, and her hair was a curly disaster.

Yet who knew what the Tarmak males desired? She had heard that a number of young women had been taken and shipped out of the city by the Tarmaks, and she knew the warriors had enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh among many of the women. Was the general any different?

“So now what?” she demanded. “You left me hanging in a cage all day, and now you clean me up just so you can stare at me?”

He lifted a hand and waved away her questions. “I was satisfying my curiosity. Nothing else.” Reaching down beside his chair, he picked up a tunic and some pants and held them up. “Where is the bronze dragon?”

She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at him.

“All right. I will tell you. He returned to his lair in Sanction. Not a wise move. I have heard the Knights of Neraka desire that city for their own. They will get it eventually, I believe.”

He sat back in his chair and regarded her for a moment, then he tossed her the tunic. Linsha caught it.

“I know, too, your owl has left the city to seek the dragon. I believe he will come to your aid.”

Linsha was so surprised by his words that she simply stared at him, the tunic dangling from her hand. “I told her not to,” she whispered.

“The owl has a mind of her own. As does the dragon. I am told he cares for you. He stayed longer than he needed to because he worried about you. If it wasn’t for the lord governor of Sanction, he would never have left.”