"Once? Oh I suppose the usual thousands of years ago?"

"No. Two or three hundred, they are not sure. But now slaves do the work."

"I didn't know there were slaves in Bilma."

"They aren't called slaves. Mara, Darian wants me to join him as a labourer pushing the coaches — that is what they are called. And when we get to the next town, or the one after — run away." And, before he said it, she knew what she would hear. "I'd rather die, Mara. I've done that, pushing dead machines up and down hills."

"And not long ago you were General Dann." She smiled at him, meaning to tease him a little, but saw his face was dark and angry. Her Dann was not there. This Dann would not take my hand, hold my arm, so simply and nicely, out of affection for me.

"There's something else. Kira came north with Darian. He replaced me in her affections, when I left. Well, he's been after her a long time. Darian is a deserter. So Shabis would have death squads ready for more than one of his officers."

"Dann, I'm sure that Shabis wouldn't."

"Oh, you can be so stupid, Mara. An army has rules. If they caught me I'd be for it. And so would Darian. That means, if people knew here they could get a ransom for us. That is why Darian wants to go North. There is going to be trouble between the Four Generals. Now the three are blaming Shabis for the mess in Shari. There is a lot of disaffection in the army. If the Generals could have little General Dann and Major Darian publicly executed, it would buck up discipline no end."

He was staring down again. Another of the coaches was being pushed out of it along the lines. "Perhaps Kira is down there. She left Darian as soon as they got here. He was just a means of getting away. I hear she has already got another protector. So she has been here in the same town with me, but I didn't know it. Perhaps I am looking at her now."

"Oh, you do love her," said Mara, but shrank, seeing his face still dark and angry.

"That is how you would have to travel North, Mara. A protector. That's the way it's done, and I would push your coach." He turned, and took her hands, gently. This was not the other one. "I love her, yes. And you shouldn't mind that, Mara, because my heart was as small as a dried bean, before Kira. Like yours is now." Here tears flooded Mara's eyes, thinking of her cold, aching heart. "But when I loved Kira so much, I knew how much I love you. I didn't know it till then. I began to remember. I know how you looked after me and defended me, Mara. And you sang to me, kept Kulik away from me. Kulik is here, I saw him." And then, seeing her face, said, "I tell you, I saw him. You never believe me, do you?" And now, right in front of her was the other one. She felt afraid.

"I was just little Dann. And you were a big girl. We're equal now, though. I want to stay here in Bilma. I want to buy one of those houses..." he turned himself around, pulling her with him. The great, white houses stood shining in their gardens. "I want to live here in a house like that."

"Dann, we don't have the money."

He pressed her robe close in to her so that he could feel the cord of coins nestling there.

"Give me your coins, Mara."

He was gently shaking her, and then not so gently. "Give them to me." "No. You could take them by force."

His face was puckering and twitching, little convulsive tics near the eyes and mouth. It was as if the face of the other one was fighting to hold off the Dann she knew. His eyes were staring, and sombre, his mouth half open — the dreadful little convulsions of the flesh went on.

"I have ten gold coins. Did you know we could buy a house with that? We could settle down — a little house, not one of those. But I know how to get more money, I know I can. And I want yours."

His face was convulsed, briefly, and then it was over. "Right, I can manage without you, Mara. That's it. Now I know where we stand."

"There's just one thing," she attempted feebly. "If you're afraid people here would take you back to Charad to be executed, then you shouldn't stay here."

"I told you, I'm not little Dann any more. I can look after myself." And he was off, running, back into the town. He called back, "Perhaps I shall cut myself open again. That would be another six."

"Don't Dann, don't," she called after him, and heard his derisive call back, "Don't Dann, don't."

She went back to the inn, and asked for food in her room. She could not bear the pressure of hostile inspection, even if she was imagining it. The proprietor only nodded, but his eyes were concerned. Yes, he was one of the ones who liked them — or at least her. She knew Dann would not be in the room, and did not expect him back. He had taken all his things. And he had taken his share of the money Dalide had changed. She lay through the hot hours looking out of the window where the sky blazed hot, and then paled, and then flared into sunset. She did not sleep. She knew something bad was brewing. When there was a knock at the door and the proprietor called to her, she knew what she would hear. "You must go to the Transit Eating House," he said. "Your brother is there." And then, "I'll send a boy with you."

She looked around the room, thinking, What should I take? Suppose I don't come back here? But why should I think that... it's silly. All the same. And she filled her faithful sack with everything she owned.

The proprietor saw the sack, and said, "Pay me what you owe."

"I'm not leaving," she said.

"Pay me."

She paid, and he called for the boy to go with her. She was pleased to have him there, though he was an urchin of ten or so and could not defend her, and she knew his function was to report back to the proprietor what he had seen.

The big room of the Transit was jammed with people, and the noise was like a shout in her ears. She walked through to the gambling room, and there was Dann. He was flushed and wild and laughing. The room was crammed except for the area immediately around the table. Beside the man who handled the dice and the chips, stood the owner of the Transit, a usually genial host, but now he was pale and agitated — as well he might be, for in front of Dann were stacked coins in every possible denomination. A fortune. Dann called to her over the piles of money, "And now who is stupid, Mara? Look at what I've won."

"Now stop," she shouted. "Stop while you've got it." For she could see he meant to go on.

Dann did hesitate. For a few moments time slowed. Dann stood, his face stretched in a triumphant grin. The onlookers' faces were full of warnings and dismay. The big lamp hanging over the table swung gently, making the shadows move. And then Dann put his hands down on his piles of winnings and said to the owner, "I'll go on."

"Don't, please don't," said Mara and he echoed her as he did earlier, "Don't Dann, please don't."

He shook the dice, threw, shook, threw, shook — and let out an exultant yell, and began to dance where he stood. A long pause, while the owner, who was looking ill now, wrote the amount on a piece of wood. And then his name.

Dann held it up, showing it around and then thrust it forwards to Mara.

Now Mara saw Bergos, standing with his back to a wall among a press of people. Well, he would have to be here. Near him was the newcomer, Darian. Bergos was grinning, full of spiteful pleasure, but Darian was sober and concerned. Mara looked beseechingly at him. He shrugged. But then he did squeeze his way through and laid his hand on Dann's shoulder. He said something to him in a low voice. While this man whom he regarded as a friend spoke to him, Dann's face twitched and grimaced because of the conflict in him, but he shook Darian off. He stood with his hands held just above the great heap of wealth in front of him. There was so much there that people's mouths fell and they stared, looking at it. Dann's face was now a medley of emotion: he was scared, but intended to be defiant, and he nodded for the dice. He stood with his hand poised over the shaker, and at that last moment he could have stopped, and been safe, but he was driven and, his lips held tight to contain their twitching, he threw. And lost, as he was bound to.