They'd seen him fall, and gag, and die once he'd raised her skirts and had her,his buttocks thrusting hard as he pinned her to the alley wall. They'd seen herbend down over him and raise her head and the glowing twin hells there had sentthem pell-mell, fleeing what they knew was no human whore.

Now they'd calmed, but they were deep in the Shambles, near its end whereCaravan Square began. There was light there, from midnight merchants engaged indouble-dealing; it was not safe there, one of the boys said: slaves were madethis way: children taken, sold north and never seen again.

'It's safe here, then?' Tamzen blurted, her teeth chattering but the krrfmaking her bold and angry. She strode ahead, not waiting to see them follow;they would; she knew this bunch better than their mothers. The thing to do, shewas sure, was to stride bravely on until they came upon the Square and found thestreets home, or came upon some Hell Hounds, palace soldiers, or Stepsons.Niko's friends would ride them home on horseback if they found some; Tamzen'sacquaintance among the men of steel was her fondest prize.

Niko ... If he were here, she'd have no fear, nor need to pretend to valour...Her eyes filled with tears, thinking what he'd say when he heard. She was nevergoing to convince him she was grown if all her attempts to do so made her seemthe more a child. A child's error, this, for sure ... and one dead on heraccount. Her father would beat her rump to blue and he'd keep her in her roomfor a month. She began to fret - the krrf's doing, though she was too far gonein the drug's sway to tell - and saw an alley from which torchlight shone. Shetook it; the others followed, she heard them close behind. They had moneyaplenty; they would hire an escort, perhaps with a wagon, to take them home. Alltaverns had men looking for hire in them; if they chanced Caravan Square, andfell afoul of slavers, she'd never see her poppa or Niko or her room filled withstuffed toys and ruffles again.

The inn was called the Sow's Ear, and it was foul. In its doorway, one of theboys, panting, caught her arm and jerked her back. 'Show money in that place,and you'll get all our throats slit quick.'

He was right. They huddled in the street and sniffed more krrf and shook andargued. Phryne began to wail aloud and her sister stopped her mouth with aclapped hand. Just as the two girls, terrified and defeated, crouched down inthe street and one of the boys, his bladder loosed by fear, sought a comer wall,a woman appeared before them, her hood thrown back, her face hidden by a trickof light. But the voice was a gentlewoman's voice and the words werecompassionate. 'Lost, children? There, there, it's all right now, just come withme. We'll have mulled wine and pastries and I'll have my man form an escort tosee you home. You're the Alekeep owner's daughter, if I'm right? Ah, good, then;your father's a friend of my husband ... surely you remember me?'

She gave a name and Tamzen, her sense swimming in drugs and her heart filledwith relief and the sweet taste of salvation, lied and said she did. All sixwent along with the woman, skirting the square until they came to a curioushouse behind a high gate, well lit and gardened and full of chaotic splendour.At its rear, the rush of the White Foal could be heard.

'Now sit, sit, little ones. Who needs to wash off the street grime? Who needs apot?' The rooms were shadowed, no longer well lit; the woman's eyes werecomforting, calming like sedative draughts for sleepless nights. They satamong the silks and the carven chairs and they drank what she offered andbegan to giggle. Phryne went and washed, and her sister and Tamzen followed.When they came back, the boys were nowhere in sight. Tamzen was just going toask about that when the woman offered fruit, and somehow she forgot the words onher tongue-tip, and even that the boys had been there at all, so fine was thekrrf the woman smoked with them. She knew she'd remember in a bit, though,whatever it was she'd forgot...

When Crit and Straton arrived with the hawkmask they'd captured at the Foalsidehome of Ischade, the vampire woman, all its lights were on, it seemed, yetlittle of that radiance cut the gloom.

'By the god's four mouths, Crit, I still don't understand why you let thoseothers go. And for Niko. What - ?'

'Don't ask me, Straton, what his reasons are; I don't know. Something about theone being of that Successors band, revolutionaries who want Wizardwall back fromthe Nisibisi mages -there's more to Nisibis than the warlocks. If that Vis wasone, then he's an outlaw as far as Nisibisi law goes, and maybe a fighter. So welet him go, do him a favour, see if maybe he'll come to us, do us a service inhis turn. But as for the other - you saw Ischade's writ of freedom - we gave himto her and she let him go. If we want to use her ... if she'll ever help us findJubal - and she does know where he is; this freeing of the slave was a message;she's telling us we've got to up the ante - we've got to honour her wishes asfar as this slave-bait goes.'

'But this ... coming here ourselves^. You know what she can do to a man ...'

'Maybe we'll like it; maybe it's time to die. I don't know. I do know we can'tleave it to the garrison - every time they find us a hawkmask he's too damagedto tell us anything. We'll never recruit what's left of them if the army keepskilling them slowly and we take the blame. And also,' Crit paused, dismountedhis horse, pulled the trussed and gagged hawkmask he had slung over his saddlelike a haunch of meat down after him, so that the prisoner fell heavily to theground, 'we've been told by the garrison's intelligence liaison that the armythinks Stepsons fear this woman.'

'Anybody with a dram of common sense would.' Straton, rubbing his eyes,dismounted also, notched crossbow held at the ready as soon as his feet touchedthe ground.

'They don't mean that. You know what they mean; they can't tell a Sacred Banderfrom a straight mercenary. They think we're all sodomizers and sneer at us forthat.'

'Let 'em. I'd rather be alive and misunderstood than dead and respected.'Straton blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision. It was remarkable thatCritias would undertake this action on his own; he wasn't supposed to take partin field actions, but command them. Tempus had been to see him, though, andsince then the task force leader had been more taciturn and even more impatientthan usual. Straton knew there was no use in arguing with Critias, but he wasone of the few who could claim the privilege of voicing his opinion to theleader, even when they disagreed.

They'd interrogated the hawkmask briefly; it didn't take long; Straton was aspecialist in exactly that. He was a pretty one, and substantively undamaged.The vampire was discerning, loved beauty; she'd take to this one, the fewbruises on him might well make him more attractive to a creature such as she:not only would she have him in her power but it would be in her power to savehim from a much worse death than that she'd give. By the look of the tall, lithehawkmask, by his clothes and his pinched face in which sensitive, liquid eyesroamed furtively, a pleasant death would be welcome. His ilk were hunted by morefactions in Sanctuary than any but Nisibisi spies. Crit said, 'Ready, Strat?'

'I own I'm not, but I'll pretend if you do. If you get through this and I don't,my horses are yours.'

'And mine, yours.' Crit bared his teeth. 'But I don't expect that to happen.She's reasonable, I'm wagering. She couldn't have turned that slave loose thatway if she wasn't in control other lust. And she's smart - smarter thanKadakithis's so-called "intelligence staff, or Hell Hounds, we've seen that fora fact.'