"Your hospitality is legendary, Sheikh Sa'ar," Lander replied, leading the way into the tent and motioning at his two companions. "I am Lander. My friends are Kadumi and Ruha of the Qahtan."

"Apparently you know Bhadla," Sa'ar replied, indicating that the trio should sit opposite Bhadla and the Zhentarim. "The D'tarig's master is Yhekal, sheikh of the Zhentarim."

Sa'ar's servant brought a pair of tiny cups and a pot filled with hot salted tea. Sa'ar filled each tiny cup with black, rich-smelling liquid, then handed one to both Lander and Kadumi.

When he saw that the sheikh had ignored Ruha, Lander held his cup out to the young widow. Though the tea smelled delicious, she quickly shook her head to indicate that she did not want the drink. The Mahwa did not permit men and women to eat together, or the sheikh would have offered her a cup himself. Ruha suspected that allowing her to sit in his tent was the extent of the courtesy the sheikh would normally show a strange woman.

Realizing his mistake, Lander withdrew the cup and sipped from it himself.

"Tell me about your journey," Sa'ar said, inviting Lander into conversation. "Where did you come from? What brings you into the Mother Desert?"

The Harper did not waste any time with pleasantries. Staring at Yhekal with a sneer so offensive that it could only be intentional, he said, "The treachery of the Zhentarim. I have come to warn the Bedine of their plans."

Sa'ar lifted a brow. "Is that so?"

As Bhadla translated Lander's statement, Ruha realized that the Zhentarim had learned from his failure with the Mtair Dhafir and was apparently foregoing the use of magic with Sa'ar.

After listening to the translation of Lander's charge, Yhekal replied to Bhadla calmly, and the D'tarig gave the reply to the Bedine. "My master says he has presented the Zhentarim's offer to Sheikh Sa'ar. He suggests the Harper do the same for his people."

"That seems fair," Sa'ar agreed. "The Zhentarim have offered me steel and gems. What will the Harpers offer?"

"Freedom," Lander replied with quiet nonchalance. He sipped his tea and watched the Zhentarim as the D'tarig translated the response for his master.

The sheikh snorted. "That is all? We have our freedom."

"Not after you sell it to the Zhentarim," Lander replied. "Did Yhekal also tell you how his people treated the Qahtan and the Mtair Dhafir?"

The sheikh nodded, his face showing no other response. "What is that to me? They were not my allies."

As Sa'ar responded, Ruha noticed a certain satisfaction creeping into Yhekal's eyes, and she realized that he was secretly using magic to understand Bedine. Thinking of the spell that had influenced her father, Ruha wondered if the purple-robed Zhentarim had also tried it on Sa'ar and failed, or if he was saving it for later.

"Sheikh Sa'ar, the Qahtan and the Mtair Dhafir were your allies, as are all the other khowwans of the desert," Lander said. He glared at Yhekal, then turned back to Sa'ar and said, "Whether you realize it or not, you have a common enemy. The Zhentarim wish to seize the desert from the Bedine."

Yhekal started to respond, but caught himself and waited. After Bhadla had translated Lander's charge and the Zhentarim made a reply in his own language, the D'tarig at last rasped, "My master says that the Harper is not speaking the truth. The Zhentarim do not want anything from the desert. They merely wish to open a trade route across it-with the cooperation of the Bedine tribes, of course."

"The Zhentarim is a liar!" Kadumi snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Yhekal. "If the Zhentarim wish to make allies, why have they brought so many warriors?"

After patiently waiting for the translation he did not need, Yhekal gave his reply to Bhadla and the D'tarig passed it on. "The desert is a dangerous place," he said. "One must be prepared."

"For what?" Kadumi demanded hotly, turning to the sheikh. "They have at least three thousand warriors in their army!"

The sheikh turned to Lander. "Is the boy speaking truly?"

"We can't be sure of the exact number, Sheikh Sa'ar," the Harper replied. "It is only an approximate count."

As her companions spoke, Ruha watched the Zhentarim's concern. She decided to give him something else to think about. "If I may speak, Sheikh Sa'ar?"

Sa'ar nodded to Ruha. "All who sit in my khreima may speak."

Ruha inclined her head. "How do you think Yhekal feeds so many in the desert?"

The sheikh frowned thoughtfully. "Now that you ask, I can't imagine. How?"

Both Lander and Kadumi smiled, anticipating what she would say. She settled her gaze on the Zhentarim, then said, "After the Zhentarim finished with the Mtair Dhafir, they cooked a hundred camels and gave the bodies of the Mtair Dhafir to their reptile soldiers."

Upon hearing the last part of the report, the sheikh's mouth turned downward in disgust. "Cannibals," he hissed. When Bhadla started to translate what had just passed, the sheikh cut him off. "Yhekal obviously understands our words," Sa'ar said, "and I am tired of playing his game."

The Zhentarim's brow furrowed, but he did not lose his temper. "They're lying, Sheikh," he said, now speaking Bedine.

The sheikh looked the Zhentarim over thoughtfully. "I don't think so, Yhekal. You are the one who has presented himself as something he is not."

"Am I to take that as your reply, then?" the purple-robed invader asked.

The sheikh looked toward the camp outside his tent. "I have not yet decided. Now that I have heard the words of both the Zhentarim and these Harpers," he said, mistakenly waving his hand at Ruha and Kadumi as well as Lander, "we will discuss the matter. I will send for you when we are ready."

"As a friend," Yhekal said, his voice as even and cold as ever, "I warn you not to choose the Harpers over the Zhentarim-"

"Listen to this warning carefully, Sheikh," Lander interrupted. "Threats are the only truthful words you will ever hear a Zhentarim speak."

Yhekal closed his mouth, and Ruha saw his hand drop toward his jambiya. For a moment, she thought that the invader might actually lose control of himself and draw his weapon, but Bhadla gently laid a hand on the man's arm.

"Perhaps we should go, Lord," the D'tarig said. "Sheikh Sa'ar needs time to consider your proposal."

The Zhentarim relaxed instantly. Without looking at his translator, Yhekal said, "Of course, Bhadla." He glared at Lander with a menacing look, then turned to Sheikh Sa'ar. "I hope to hear from you soon-shall we say… tonight?"

A bitter wind gusted over the hillside, sending dust devils of sulphurous grit scuttling across the volcano's pale slopes. Lander sat in a ravine about a quarter of the way up the cinder cone, staring at the campfires three hundred feet below. Though he wore a jellaba given to him by Sheikh Sa'ar, the heavy camel's wool robe did not prevent him from shivering.

Sa'ar lifted the battered pot off the steaming rock-fissure upon which it had been placed to keep the tea warm. He poured a generous helping of the black liquid into a wooden cup, then offered it to Lander. "Here, something to warm you," the sheikh said.

The Harper accepted the tea with heartfelt gratitude, then wrapped his hands around the warm cup and sipped the rich drink. Though the steam vent kept the tea far from scalding, it was still hot enough to warm his insides. "Thank you," Lander said, at last bringing his shivering to a halt.

Sa'ar put the pot back in the vent-hole, then shook his head in amusement and shrugged Lander's thanks off without comment. It was a Bedine peculiarity, the Harper had noticed, that they did not express gratitude for food or water. From what he could tell, they regarded these two essentials as the property of whomever needed them at the time. It seemed a strangely charitable custom for a people who thought it praiseworthy to kill a man in order to steal his camel.