'Of course Daish Reik's death deprived you of his wives as well,' she said nastily. 'And all the guidance they might have given you.'

'I was newly married to Janne Daish.' Kheda paused to smile affectionately at his wife. 'My mother and her sister wives had every confidence in her as new first wife of the domain and certainly no wish to challenge her by staying.'

So they were scattered, each to take their grief to the domain they had been born to and leaving me to my own sorrow. And you'll never know what heartache that cost me, Chay.

'If you'll excuse me, I must speak with Redigal Coron.' Smiling at Laisa who was looking sorely uncomfortable, Kheda bowed and moved away.

Let's see if Coron can let slip why our domain's rawest sore is being prodded again. I'd better warn Janne as well and I think Telouet had better resign himself to a night of raising some slave girl's hopes, for the sake of whatever we might learn that way.

Anyway, Daish Reik's death cannot have been a long-distant omen of this calamity. We'd have seen something else, some recent portent to turn our thoughts to that death as precursor. If I'd missed it, Sirket would have caught it. I've shared all my speculations on Daish Reik's fate with him. He watches as anxiously as me for any sign that might confirm or deny a particular theory.

'My lord.' Telouet approached with a pitcher of that same cursed lilla juice.

Kheda held out his goblet and the lip of the jug trembled on the rim. 'Are you all right?' He looked more closely at his faithful slave.

'I'm not sure.' Telouet's mouth was pinched, his skin greying.

'What's wrong?' Kheda noted more beads of sweat on the other man's forehead than the heat could account for.

'Stomach cramps,' the slave replied tersely.

'When did that start?' Kheda frowned.

'Forgive me, my lord, I'm going to be sick,' Telouet said through clenched teeth, a muscle pulsing in his jaw.

'Outside.' Kheda handed the jug and goblet to the nearest maidservant, driving Telouet towards the door. In the corridor, Telouet barely reached the stairwell before he doubled up, falling to his knees retching. Kheda took off the slave's helmet and held his shoulders as spasms racked him. Telouet groaned and tried to stand up, wiping cold sweat from his face with a trembling arm, but another paroxysm seized him. Kheda took a shallow breath, swallowing his own nausea at the sickening smell.

'My lord?' It was Birut, face anxious. - 'Find some servant to clear this up,' Kheda ordered. 'I'm taking him back to our quarters.'

'My lord—-' Birut sounded uncertain.

Kheda looked at him with some exasperation. 'I can hardly go back in there.' He gestured to his vomit-spattered clothes. 'Tell Janne I'll dose Telouet and rejoin her when I'm satisfied he's settled.'

Birut nodded, no choice but to obey. He turned to go.

'Wait.' Kheda managed to get Telouet upright, one shoulder underneath his arm. 'Which way to the main corridors from here?'

Birut grimaced, seeing Kheda so burdened. 'I'd better come with you.'

'I can guide us back,' Telouet said hoarsely.

'You can't leave that new lad responsible for Itrac and Janne both, Birut, not here,' Kheda said bluntly. 'We'll collar a servant if needs be.'

Where's that oily zamorin lackey, when he might be useful?

'Take the far stair.' Birut pointed. 'Go down two floors then bear east along the passage. That'll bring you to the central traverse.'

Telouet tried to bear the weight of his armour but nausea racked him again and again. He was leaning heavily on Kheda before they had reached the main arcade that ran the length of the fort's inner citadel.

'Come on; let's get you to a bed. Some river clay and poppy juice and you'll be fresh as the rains come the morning.' Sweat trickled down Kheda's back as he helped Telouet negotiate a crowded corridor, every Ulla face curious.

What are you wondering at? That we've brought some rainy-season contagion with us? More likely some foulness from your filthy river has worked its way into the fort.

Kheda waved away a hovering maid, plainly anxious to help as Telouet emptied his stomach again, this time of no more than bile and slime.

No blood, that's some relief No scent of any poison that I know either. Anyway, what would poisoning Telouet achieve? Janne will be there to see any discussions between Safar, Caid and Coron happening without me.

'I'm sorry, my lord,' Telouet whispered as they paused on a landing halfway down an awkward flight of stairs to the citadel's lower levels.

'For what? For getting me out of one of Safar's tedious banquets? I don't think I'll be punishing you for that.' Despite his light words, Kheda scowled as the swordsman stumbled on numb feet.

'You should go back.' Telouet tried and failed to disengage himself from Kheda's arm. 'I can get to the apartments from here.'

'If I go back now, I'll have Mirrel pretending surprise that I feel it necessary to see personally to the ailments of my slaves while Safar congratulates me for my detachment in leaving you to your own devices. I don't particularly feel inclined to let them set everyone a choice between condemning me as overindulgent or heartless.'

Telouet didn't hear him, his knees finally giving way. Kheda couldn't hold him any longer. At least they were at the turn to the corridor where they were lodged.

Kheda propped Telouet against the wall and shouted. 'Daish! You are wanted!'

'My lord?' One of Janne's women opened the door to the women's apartments, startled.

'Get him into my rooms.' As more servants appeared, Kheda let the four porters take Telouet between them. 'On the bed.'

'I'll get some clean quilts.' As the woman hurried away, one of the porters produced a knife to cut the leather thongs that secured Telouet's chainmail. 'We'd better get him out of this.'

'You can curse us for wrecking the fit of it later,' Kheda told the slave. Telouet barely groaned as they slid the armour off him with no little difficulty. Kheda tore off the padded arming jacket and found it sodden with rank sweat.

The woman returned with an armful of clean cottons and a maid following her with a bundle of quilts. 'Get me water and my physic chest, the silver-bound, satinwood one. Come on, Telouet, I need you awake.' Kheda slapped his slave's face with calculated severity. 'Open your eyes.'

No need to give an emetic, even if this is poisoning. There's nothing left in him to bring up. Should I dose him with charcoal all the same? At very least we must get some water into him but how can we be sure the water's clean in this cesspit of a fortress?

He turned to the porter who was standing, grim-faced, at the foot of the bed. 'Get a charcoal brazier brought in here, at once. From now on, we boil every drop of water any of us drink and Ulla Safar can chase his own tail, if he thinks we're insulting him.'