Jubal, the not-so-dead ex-crimelord of Sanctuary, paced the confines of thesmall room like a caged animal. The process that had healed his terrible woundsafter the raid on his estate had aged him physically. Mentally, however, he wasstill agile, and that agility rebelled at these new restrictions on hismovement. Still, it was a small price to pay for rebuilding his lost power.

'So the alliance is finalized?' he asked. 'We will warn and guard the Stepsonswhenever possible in return for their abandoning the hunt for the remaininghawkmasks?'

'As you ordered,' his aide acknowledged. Jubal caught the tone of voice andhesitated in his pacing. 'You still don't approve of this treaty, do youSaliman?'

'Tempus and his Whoresons raided our holdings, wounded you nearly unto death,scattered our power, and have since been occupying their time killing our oldcomrades. Why should I object to allying with them ... any more than I'dobject to bedding a mad dog that's bitten me not once, but several times.'

'But you yourself counselled not seeking vengeance on him!'

'Avoiding confrontation is one thing. Pledging to help an enemy is yet another.Forming an alliance was your idea, Jubal, not mine.'

Jubal smiled slowly, and for a moment Saliman saw a flash of the old crimelord,the one who had once all but ruled Sanctuary.

'The alliance is at best temporary, old friend,' the ex-gladiator murmured.'Eventually there will be a reckoning. In the meantime, where better to study anenemy than from within his own camp?'

'Tempus is smarter than that,' his aide argued. 'Do you really • think he'll betrusting enough to relax his guard?'

'Of course not,' said Jubal. 'But Tempus has moved north to fight at Wizardwall.I have less respect for those he's left behind. However, their efforts to locateold hawkmasks are an annoyance we can ill afford at this time.'

'The rebuilding goes well. Resistance is minimal, and ...'

'I'm not talking about the rebuilding, and you know it!' Jubal interruptedviciously. 'It's those Beysib that have me worried.'

'But everyone else in town is unconcerned.'

'They're fools! Not a one of them can see beyond their own immediategains. Merchants don't understand power. Power understands power. I knowthose fish folk better than most, because I know myself. They didn't cometo Sanctuary to help the town. Oh, they'll make a big show of the benefitsof their arrival to the citizens, but eventually there'll come aparting of the ways. A situation will arise when they'll have tochoose between what's good for their new neighbours and what's good forthe Beysib, and there's no doubt in my mind as to how they'll choose. If welet them get strong enough. Sanctuary will be lost when their chancegoes against the city.'

'They are not exactly weak now,' Saliman observed, thoughtfully chewing his lip.

'That's right,' Jubal growled, 'and that's why they concern me. What we must do... what the town must do, is to gain strength through our association with thefish-folk, while at the same time blocking their growth, actually sapping theirstrength whenever possible. Fortunately, this is a role Sanctuary is well suitedto.'

'There are those who would confuse your zeal for self-interest rather than adefence of the town,' Saliman said carefully. 'The Beysib do constitute a threatto your effort to rebuild your power base.'

'Of course,' the hawkmaster smiled. 'Like the invaders, I work for my ownbenefit... Everyone does, though most don't admit it. The difference is that mysuccess is linked to the continuance of Sanctuary as we have known it. Theirsisn't.'

'Of course, your success will not happen by itself,' his aide reminded him.

'Yes, yes. I know. Affairs of business. Forgive my ramblings, Saliman, but youknow I find details tedious now that I've attained old age.'

'You found them tedious well before your aging,' came the dry response.

'... which is why you are so valuable to me. Enough of your nagging. Now, whatpressing matter do you have that simply must be dealt with?'

'Do you recall the shop that was displaying our protection symbol without havingpaid for the services?'

'The artifact shop? Yes, I remember. Synab never struck me as the sort who hadthat kind of courage.'

For all his grumbling and protests about detail, Jubal had an infallible memoryfor money and people.

'Well?' the slaver continued, 'What of it? Has the investigation been completed,or does his shop still stand?'

'Both,' Saliman smiled. 'Synab claims to be innocent of offence. He says that hedidpa.y us for protection.'

'And you believed him? It's not like you to be so easily bluffed.'

'I believed him, but only because we located the one who has been dealing in ourname.'

'A poacher?' Jubal scowled. 'As if we didn't have enough problems. All we needis to have every cheap crook in Sanctuary borrowing our reputation for his ownextortions. I want the offender caught and brought to me as soon as possible.'

'He's waiting outside,' the aide smiled. 'I thought you would want to see him.'

'Excellent, Saliman. Your efficiency improves daily. Give me a moment to getinto this wretched mask and bring him in.'

To maintain appearances, Jubal always wore one of the outlawed blue hawkmasks,as well as a hooded cloak when interviewing underlings and outsiders. It wouldnot do to have the word spread that his youth had fled him, nor did it hurt tocapitalize on the terror inspired by a featureless leader. In an effort tomaximize the latter effect, the ex-crimelord doused all candles but one and laidhis sword on the table in front of himself before signalling that the captive'sblindfold should be removed.

Their prisoner was an unwashed urchin barely into his teens. His type were asnumerous as rats in Sanctuary, harassing store owners and annoying shoppers withtheir arrogant stares and daring sorties. There was no defiance in this one,though. Cowed and humble, he stood blinking, trying to clear his eyes whilestanding with the trembling stillness of a tethered goat trying to escape thenotice of a predator.

'Do you know who I am, boy?'

'J ... Jubal, sir.'

'Louder! The name came readily enough to you when you represented yourself toSynab as my agent.'

'I ... everyone said you were dead, sir. I thought the symbols were a newextortion racket and didn't see any harm in trying to cash in on it myself.'

'Even if I were dead, it's a dangerous name to be using. Weren't you afraid ofthe guardsmen? Or the Stepsons? They're hunting hawkmasks, you know.'

'The Stepsons,' the boy sneered. 'They aren't so much. One of them had me coldwith my hand in his purse yesterday. I knocked him down and got away before hecould untangle himself enough to draw his sword.'

'Anyone can be surprised, boy. Remember that. Those men are hardened veteranswho've earned their reputation as well as their

pay.'

'They don't scare me,' the boy argued, more defiantly.

'Do I?'

'Y ... Yes, sir,' came the reply, as the youth remembered his predicament.

'... but not enough to keep you from posing as one of my agents,' Jubal finishedfor him. 'How much did you get from Synab, anyway?'

'I don't know, sir.'

The ex-crimelord raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

'Really!' the urchin insisted. 'Instead of a flat fee, I demanded a portion ofhis weekly sales. I told him that we ... that you would be watching his shop andwould know if he tried to cheat on the figure.' ,