'I'm sure your Prince will do all that he can. It would be a crime among us, aswell, if someone had stolen the Beysa's serpent.'

'I'm afraid. Suppose they didn't need to steal the serpent, suppose they onlyneeded the venom. Suppose the Harka Bey are angry because men like you come hereto women like me.'

He took her in his arms again, brushing the sweat-dampened hair back from herface. 'The Harka Bey is a tale for children.'

She caught his hand in hers and felt the design of the ring on his hand: aserpent, with fangs that rasped on the ridges of her fingertips. He pulled hishand quickly away.

'I'm afraid, Turghurt, of what will become of me -'

He struck like a snake, grabbing at her throat and wrenching her head aroundinto the candlelight. Her right arm was hopelessly twisted in the silk and herleft bent backwards into agony.

'So Myrtis thinks it's me, does she?'

'No,' Cythen gasped, aware now that she had used his real name, as she had beenwarned not to do. 'She knows it could not have been you who killed Bekin. Onlywomen handle the serpents...' but they were both staring at the serpent ringshining in the candle-light.

'What are you?' he demanded, shaking her jaw until something ripped loose in herneck and she could not have answered him if she had wanted to. 'Who sent you?What do you know?' He bent her wrist back until it was in the candle flame. 'Whotold you about our plans?'

Tears flowed through the kohl, washing the black powder into her eyes - but thatwas the least of her pain. She screamed, finally, though wrenching her jaw freeof him was almost enough to make her faint. He caught her again, but it was toolate. Even as he beat her head against the wall, someone was banging on thedoor. She fell back on the candle, extinguishing it with her body, and theystruggled against each other in the darkness.

She broke free more than once, digging her filed nails into whatever vulnerableskin she could grab. But she did not have the strength to break his bones withher hands and could not find, in the darkness, the panel that concealed herknife. Someone was using an axe on the door now, and she thought perhaps itwould not all have been in vain if they caught him for her death.

He caught her by the shoulder and brought his fist crashing into her weakenedjaw. The force and the pain stunned her. She hung limp in his grip, defencelessagainst his second punch. He heaved her body into a corner, where it hit with adead-weight thud; then he began moving frantically through the darkness as theaxe continued to bite against the door.

Cythen had not lost consciousness, though she wished she had. Her mouth and jawwere on fire, although, ironically, one or another of his punches had undone thedislocation, along with loosening a few of her teeth. She could have screamedfreely now, as she heard his glittery clothing dropping to the floor, but theanguish of her failure was too great.

A piece of wood had splintered away from the door. Light from the lanterns inthe hallway glinted off the serpent ring which he held before his eyes. Sherealized that he must think her dead or unconscious, and she thought she mightsurvive if she continued to be silent, but he came at her as a second, largerpiece of wood came loose. The glistening serpent's head rose above his fist.

She lunged away from him and felt something strike her shoulder. In the swirl ofpain and panic she did not know if the fangs had pierced her; she knew only thatshe was still alive, still wrapped around his legs and trying to bite him withher already battered and bloody teeth. He kicked free other with littledifficulty and made a leap for the window as a hand reached around into thedarkness and worked the latch.

Though the door was open almost at once, Turghurt had heaved himself clear ofthe window before they reached him. And though Cythen protested her health andsurvival, they made more of a fuss over her and the ruined silk than they didover the escaping Beysib.

'He won't get far. Not without any clothes,' Myrtis assured her, holding up thediscarded turquoise pantaloons.

'He'll be bleedin' naked!' one of the other women tittered.

Cythen had already learned that the pain was bearable so long as she didn't tryto talk, so she ignored the chaos of conversation and searched for the panelthat concealed her proper clothes and knife. The Beysib wasn't naked, she wassure of that. Somehow he'd managed to exchange his bright silks for dark clothessuch as the Harka Bey had worn. He hadn't been able to change his boots, though,and the light leather should be easy to spot - if he wasn't already safe at thepalace by now. She shoved Ambutta aside and pulled on her own boots.

'You aren't going after him, are you? The garrison has men at both ends of theStreet. They'll have him by now. I've already sent for a physician to see you.'Myrtis reached gently towards Cythen's battered face, and Cythen warned her awaywith an animal growl.

With her hair still loose and glittering, she shoved her way to the door. MaybeWalegrin really was out there; it would be the first good thing that hadhappened. Maybe they had already caught Turghurt. She'd rather have Thrushertend her v/ounds than some cathouse doctor. She kicked at the doorman when hetried to stop her and burst out into the Street.

Although the walls of the Palace were closer, they were more dangerous. Sheguessed Turghurt would have gone south past the Bazaar and into the Maze beforeheading back to the palace. It had not occurred to her that he might still be onthe Street until a hand loomed out of the shadows and closed over her mouth. Herthroat tore with an almost soundless shriek and she lashed back with her heelsand fists before hearing a familiar voice.

'Damn you, bitch! We've got him cornered in a loft not a hundred steps fromhere.'

She pried Walegrin's fingers from her face and stood before him, tears streamingdown her cheeks and her whole body trembling.

'What happened to you?'

'I... got... hit,' she said slowly, moving her mouth as little as possible.

'Did you get the proof?'

She shrugged. Was the ring and his attempt to kill her proof he had killed Bekinor the Beysib men and women?

'C'mon, Cythen. He broke out of there like a bull. He didn't punch you out'cause you're ugly -'

She shook her head and tried to explain what had happened, but her mouth was toosore for so many words and he could make no sense of her gestures.

'Well, all right, anyway. Maybe we can pry something out of him now. We thinkhe's found a regular hideout behind some of the older Houses.' Walegrin led theway off the street to a dark jumble of buildings where two of his men waited.

'It's as quiet as a tomb up there,' the soldier informed his captain; then,noticing Cythen, added: 'What happened to you?'

'She got hit. Don't ask questions. Now, you're sure he's still up there?'

'There's only two ways out and he ain't used either of them.'

'Okay.' Walegrin turned back to Cythen. 'You get him at ally She shook her headto say no and he looked away. 'Okay. Thrush, you come with me. Jore, you bellowif you see something. And Cythen,' he tossed her a scabbard. 'Here's your sword;redeem yourself.'

They dashed across an open space and flattened themselves against the roughstucco walls of the building. It had been abandoned for some time. Chunks ofstonework broke loose as they made their way to the gaping doorway. The centralcolumn of stairs to the upper room was only wide enough for one person andmissing a good third of its boards as well. Walegrin drew his Enlibrite swordand started up them, motioning for the others to remain behind.