As the sheikh spoke, Ruha's chin sank to her chest and she slumped down in the chair. Lander stood and rushed to the widow's side and found her breathing in quick, shallow gasps. He tried to wake her, but she had fallen into a deep slumber that could not be disturbed.

"She seems to be sleeping," Lander reported, though he could not say whether the sleep had been caused by the strain of serving as a goddess's mouthpiece or by the effort required to cast some peculiar kind of magic he had never seen before.

Sa'ar said, "We have seen a sign from Eldath. Now we must do as the goddess asks and turn our thoughts to defeating our enemies."

"How do we know the witch wasn't using her magic to fool us?" demanded Haushi.

"Ruha couldn't have known about the Ju'ur Dai and the Zhentarim's location," Utaiba replied. "Then, too, there is the furniture in which we sit-sixteen chairs for sixteen men. I, for one, believe it was Eldath who spoke to us."

There was a general murmur of agreement, then Sa'ar said, "Lander, you know the Zhentarim best. What strategy do you suggest?"

Returning to his chair, the Harper asked, "How many warriors do we have?"

Utaiba was the first to answer. "The Raz'hadi have two hundred and fifty men who will die to drive the Zhentarim from our desert," he said, proudly thumping himself on the chest.

Sa'ar spoke next. "Over one hundred Bait Mahwa have already died fighting the Zhentarim, and two hundred more are ready to join their brothers."

A toothless sheikh wearing a black turban said, "We have one hundred and fifty warriors, all thirsting for the blood of the invaders."

Lander held up a hand. "I meant to ask, how many warriors do we have all together?"

Utaiba and Sa'ar frowned, then Sa'ar said, "We are telling you. I have two hundred men."

"I have two hundred and fifty," Utaiba added.

"And we have one hundred and fifty," repeated the toothless sheikh.

"Go on," Lander said, nodding to the next sheikh and starting to add figures in his head. Before they could hope to match the coordination of the Zhentarim army, the Harper realized, the Bedine would have to adjust their way of thinking.

When the fifteen sheikhs had each listed the number of warriors in his tribe, Lander said, "We have a little less than three thousand warriors, about a thousand more than the Zhentarim. Is there any place we can get more?"

Utaiba answered. "We have sent riders to all the khowwans within a fortnight's journey," he said, waving his hand in all directions. "Their allies have not been attacked, so they can see no good in fighting the Zhentarim. The only tribes we can count on are those gathered at this oasis."

"The others will change their minds when the asabis eat their sons and the Black Robes enslave their daughters," Sa'ar growled.

"No doubt," Utaiba agreed. "But for now, these tribes are all we have. Perhaps more will join us later."

"Then I suggest you send your women and children to a safe place, along with a third of your warriors to protect them," the Harper said. "If the Zhentarim realize that your families are unprotected, they will try to destroy them."

"We will send our tribes north together," Sa'ar said. "If we perish, or if the Zhentarim follow them, they will scatter. At most, the invaders will capture only a few hostages."

The other sheikhs nodded their agreement, then Utaiba said, "We have made provisions for our families, but we still have not discussed the most important thing. What is the best way to attack the Zhentarim?" He looked to Lander, deferring to the Harper's knowledge of the enemy.

Lander considered the question for a moment, then said, "We'll have about the same number of men as the Zhentarim, counting their asabis. We should attack during the day, when the reptile mercenaries are burrowed beneath the sand. That way, we'll have a numerical advantage. With luck, we'll destroy the enemy in a single battle."

Sa'ar smiled at the Harper. "We?" he said. "Are we to take it that you do not intend to be an observer in this battle?"

Resting his eyes on the widow's sleeping form, Lander shook his head. "Where Ruha goes, I go," he said. "If I hadn't talked her into staying, she'd probably be in Sembia by now."

To the Harper's surprise, both Sa'ar and Utaiba greeted his comment with frowns, and the other sheikhs muttered in displeasure. It was Haushi, however, who voiced their concern. "What about the witch?"

From the murmur that rustled through the room, the Harper knew he had spoken the question on the mind of many of the other sheikhs.

"She'll be coming with us, of course," Lander said, glancing at Ruha's inert form. "Providing she wakes up in time."

"Of course, we've all agreed to that now," said a wizened little man with a scraggly beard. "But where will she sleep? In your khreima?"

The question caught Lander off guard, and he had to pause for a moment to consider it. After reflecting on the interrogation the sheikhs' had given him when he reported the news of Kadumi's death, as well as the suspicious looks of the boys who had come to take care of their camels, Lander thought he understood the source of the trouble.

Deciding to get right to the heart of the matter, he said, "If you think I had something to do with Kadumi's death, I don't see that I can do anything-"

Sa'ar interrupted, saying, "What passed between you and Kadumi is not our affair. If you killed him, I'm sure that he deserved it."

"I didn't kill him!" Lander said. "It was a Zhentarim assassin!"

"Whatever," Utaiba answered. "It doesn't matter. Nobody here is related to the boy, so there'll be no blood price."

Lander could only shake his head. He did not know whether he should be upset at having been accused of killing the boy-if that was what the sheikhs were implying-or at the casualness with which they were willing to dismiss the murder. To make matters worse, he realized that he did not have any idea of what was upsetting the sheikhs. "If nobody cares about Kadumi, what's the matter?"

Sa'ar pointed at Ruha, then at Lander. "Her," the sheikh said, "and you."

"It's wrong to bed a widow while her husband's spirit is still restless," said the toothless sheikh. "You'll bring N'asr's plague down on us."

Lander studied Ruha's sleeping form. The sheikhs' assumptions regarding what had passed between him and the widow upset him more than they should have-in part, he knew, because they had read so well what he felt in his heart. "How long does it take to calm a husband's spirit?"

"Two years," answered Haushi. "If you sleep with her before then, you will curse us all."

The Harper rose and walked over to the copper-gilded throne. Standing opposite Ruha, he said, "Then I'll wait."

"Have you bedded her yet?" Utaiba asked.

Lander did not look away from the widow. "No."

"Then it is decided!" Sa'ar exclaimed, rising. He pulled his jambiya and stepped to the middle of the room. "Let us swear an akeud! Victory or defeat, let us find it together!"

The burly sheikh drew the blade across his palm, then held up his hand so the others could inspect the dripping wound. As the blood touched the floor, it vanished into the black marble.