Eventually it was, just in time to keep Blade from strangling several of the interrogators with his bare hands. Then he had to endure a round of feasts and drinking parties, laid on to greet the returning heroes. Blade was glad that the other returned prisoners had a chance to eat and drink their fill. But he himself ate and drank very lightly and kept a close watch on his own tongue and on anyone who tried to strike up a conversation with him. He had the feeling Stipors still suspected that something was wrong somewhere. The last thing he could afford to do was give the Autocrat for War any excuse to imprison him, or even prevent him from seeing Krodrus.

Eventually Blade got his private appointment with Krodrus.

He had somehow expected an undersized man like Krodrus to occupy an imposing office and sit on a raised dais behind a desk half the size of a tennis court. But Krodrus' office was barely larger than Blade's sleeping cabin aboard Green Mistress. His desk was a rickety little table half buried under stacks of papers and inkwells containing five different colors of ink. Krodrus obviously didn't need any props to build himself up. He knew what he was and what he could do and felt no need to impress anybody with either by artificial means.

The Autocrat sat quietly behind his desk while Blade explained what he wanted to do and what help he needed to do it. Except for the occasional flicker of his eyelids, Krodrus might have been the carved figurehead on the bow of a Talgaran ship.

Blade held nothing back, or almost nothing. He mentioned the possibility that the Fishmen might want to make peace, only as something he had guessed, from what he had seen in the Reefs.

«They've taken losses too, Financier. I would guess they've lost at least a thousand warriors, plus all the destruction. Not as much as we have lost, of course. But I imagine they'd find it cheaper to make peace, if we offered them reasonable terms.»

Krodrus said nothing.

Blade did not mention Alanyra. Still less did he mention the fact that Alanyra and certain of her picked warriors were going to be helping him on his mission to Nurn. If he went.

«My Lord Autocrat,» Blade finished. «What I ask is something strange, I admit. But it is dangerous only to me, at least for now. If I am willing to run these dangers to help Talgar find peace and perhaps freedom from Nurn, can I ask your help?»

There was a long and, to Blade, exceedingly chilly silence in the dark and musty little room. Blade stared intently at Krodrus, trying to make out some expression on the brown and wrinkled little face.

He was trying to read the unreadable.

The silence stretched on, until Blade began to find it difficult to breathe because of the tension growing in him. And on. Now Krodrus wasn't even blinking. His dark eyes stared back at Blade, as motionless and expressionless as those of a snake.

Then the Autocrat took in a breath, and said, «What sort of help will you need?»

Blade in his turn let out a breath. He flexed muscles that had suddenly become cramped, and swallowed to get the dryness out of his throat. Then he gave the list that he had long since settled in his own mind. A small, fast ship, well-equipped and well-armed, with a small crew completely loyal to him and equally adept at fighting and seamanship. A reasonable sum in gold. Unquestionable credentials as an arms buyer for the Autocracy of Finance of the Sea Cities.

«I see you've thought this out well in advance,» said Krodrus. «Good. I was afraid I might be sending you to your death.»

«I have often done this sort of work before,» said Blade. «One learns much in traveling far.»

«One does. I wonder exactly how far you have traveled,» said Krodrus. He seemed to be speaking half to himself. Then, briskly, «How many men will you need?»

«Ten or twelve. I can act as my own captain, but I'll need a good mate. If he's available, I'd like Gershon-the one I defeated on the Council House steps the day of the riot. He'll be loyal to me, I'm sure, so I can let him pick the rest of the crew himself.»

«I will have word sent to the Registrar of Sailors,» said Krodrus. «I hope for your sake and the sake of the Sea Cities that he can indeed be trusted. Stipors would pay well to learn of this mission, and I think even better to foil it.»

«You think he is behind the war, perhaps?»

«He favors it because it favors some plans of his own. If I knew what they were- But one cannot go about accusing one's fellow Autocrats, unless one has proof of great wrongdoing. Not now. I do not think that he himself is the game player you believe in. I think you are right that there is one, but I also agree with you that he is most likely in Nurn.»

«Have you any idea who he might be?» asked Blade. «If I can guide my search-«

The Autocrat shook his head. «There are any of half a dozen great nobles who might be ambitious in this direction. To break the power of both the Sea Cities and the Fishmen and make them vassals of the Empire would be much to his credit. Perhaps he might even think to set up his creatures to rule over both people, and then turn them into a base for his own power. In such a case he might be aiming at the throne of Nurn itself.»

Intrigues piled upon intrigues, it seemed. But this was normal, in any dimension. «Thank you, Lord Krodrus. I hope to be back within two months with at least some of the answers.»

«You would do well to be back sooner, if you can.»

Krodrus's face clouded. «Stipors is speaking of trying the Conciliators for treason. If matters come to a trial, I am sure they will be convicted, and if convicted, they will die. If you can return in time-«He let the sentence die unfinished.

It was a hot airless summer dawn, with a low heat haze over the glassy sea. The scout boat Sea Fox drifted aimlessly, her sails flapping monotonously against her mast.

Gershon saluted as Blade came up from the tiny captain's cabin aft. «Mornin', sir. Put the men to the sweeps?»

Blade shook his head. «Not much sense in that. We'd have everybody worn out inside of two hours.»

«I know, sir. But supposin' the Fishmen were about-?»

«All the more reason for keeping everybody fresh. We've got little enough chance if they attack as it is.»

Gershon saluted again and went forward. Blade leaned against the railing, hands clasped behind his back, and looked up. The white-painted mast and yard showed clearly from the deck. That was the identifying sign he had agreed on with Alanyra. And here they were, within two miles of the rendezvous. Damn that haze! If Alanyra's little company couldn't find Fox before some other less friendly group of Sea Master raiders did- Blade swung himself into the rigging and hauled himself hand over hand up to the crow's nest. He might not be able to see much better up there. But at least he wouldn't be able to pace up and down the deck until someone asked him what he was so worried about!

An hour passed, then another. Sea Fox rocked gently to the swell. Small sounds floated up from her deck-voices, a bucket dropped with a clatter, the banging of the pump as it worked to keep the bilge dry. Not much needed for that-Fox was a tight, well-found little ship. Also, appropriately named for the mission she was on, thought Blade. He looked down again and realized that the sun was beginning to burn off some of the haze.

Then a shout from the stern made him spin around. A hundred yards dead astern the head of a yulon broke the water. Blade stared. It was a tame one. He could see the harness. But did that mean-?

Gershon was already beating the signal drum for battle call, and the crew was dashing about, snatching up their weapons. Blade flung himself into the rigging and scrambled monkeylike back down to the deck. As he reached it, the head of the yulon sank slowly out of sight. No sign of any of the Sea Masters with it.