Kalim miserably shook his head. "The majira left the city shortly after noon today. I felt it was my duty to follow her." He paused. "She went to the tower."

Galen whirled to face him. "The tower?"

"I don't think she could have known that a tryst there would add to your shame," Kalim whispered. "She might not have been told."

"If she didn't know, Yusef certainly did." Galen's lips twisted. "Just as he knew how convenient the tower would be to reach from the hill encampment."

Kalim's eyes were bright with moisture. "Believe me, I did not want to tell you. I wanted to take care of it myself before you returned."

"I know, Kalim." On one level Galen was aware of how upset Kalim was, but he could not extend comfort now. His entire being was consumed with the effort to subdue the untamed anger writhing through him. He must think, reason, he couldn't let himself uncage the wildness.

"What shall I do? Shall I go and bring her back?"

"No." He turned and mounted Selik. "It's no longer your concern, Kalim."

"Let me go with you. Suppose Yusef is—"

"I hope he is." Galen smiled chillingly. "Then I won't have to seek him out."

Kalim's hands clenched into fists. "I knew the Western woman would bring trouble down on you."

"I brought it on myself. I know how bored women can get. They must be kept under control." Dear God, he sounded like his father. Well, why not? He felt like his father. Betrayed, angry, the blood lust rising within him. "I should have taken her with me." He turned his horse. "Tell Viane I won't return tonight."

He galloped out of the courtyard and through the town toward the city gates.

He was not his father.

Yet the blood was there, the savagery was there.

Tess was not without honor.

She had found Yusef comely. She had laughed and joked with him.

She was still a child in many ways.

Yet in those days before he left, he had purposely teased her, primed her to take him into her bed. In the courtyard that last day she had challenged him. She had been ready for a man.

Any man?

Galen found his teeth clenching, his hands tightening on the reins.

He must maintain his composure. He would be calm and reasonable. He would give her the opportunity to explain.

Mother of God, he hoped he could keep himself from hurting her.

He rode through the gates and turned Selik toward the hills.

Tess lifted Alexander carefully from his cage. "All right, lad, we've done this before. Just set your mind to it." She straightened, leaned far out the window, and tossed the pigeon into the air.

Alexander's gray wings flapped wildly, the tiny bells affixed to his leg jingling merrily as he rose into the sky, wheeled gracefully in a circle… and headed west.

"Not that direction, you idiot," Tess grumbled as she watched the bird fly away from the tower.

"You're flying toward Said Ababa. Who'll feed you grain there?"

The pigeon soared blissfully away from both the tower… and Zalandan.

Tess leaned her elbow on the windowsill, chin in hand, and made a face at the swiftly retreating bird, quite definitely headed toward the border. "Very well, you'll find out." But Sweet Mary, there was no telling how long it would take the stupid bird to discover his error. In the meantime she'd have to stay at the tower in case he returned instead of winging his way home. Who could know? The dratted bird might become addled and never make it back to the palace.

She cast a speculative eye at the sunlight filtering into the room. She judged it would be at least another two hours before the sun set and Viane started to worry.

She would give the pesky bird until sundown to return. If he didn't, she would set out then for the palace to see if he had come to his addled senses and flown back like a proper homing pigeon.

In the meantime this chamber in the tower was not a bad place to wait. The guardroom downstairs had been in total chaos, tables and chairs broken and overturned and every nook and cranny wreathed in cobwebs, but here in the tower room there were even touches of luxury. Evidently, the officers who had commanded this outpost liked their comfort. The wide bed across the room was encased in heavy blue velvet curtains to keep out the chill of the desert night; the blue-and-cream patterned carpet stretching over the stone floor was as thick and fine as the one in her chamber in the palace. No matter the luxurious quality of the furnishings, there was no denying the coat of dust and mildew layering everything, and if her judgment of Alexander's intellect was correct, she might have a long wait. She had no intention of lying on that filthy bed or sitting on the stone floor until he came back.

Tess moved the large throne like chair before the huge fireplace. She snatched up the mildewed cushions on the dusty chair and threw them carelessly on the hearth before taking off her cloak and draping it on the chair. She settled herself gingerly on the hard seat, leaned back, and sighed.

On the whole the tower had been a disappointment. She had found nothing mysterious or intriguing about the place, and certainly no reason why Galen had forbidden it to her. The only inhabitants were mice and spiders.

She was lying to herself, she realized impatiently. She knew very well why she had wanted to come here. The attraction had been not the tower itself but Galen's reaction to it. She had hoped she would find some clue to a new aspect of Galen's character. He was so guarded, he would yield little to her voluntarily. She knew when he returned, their relationship must change, and she had thought she would feel safer if she—

Safer? How odd that word had occurred to her. She had never been afraid of Galen. She had always been aware he could be a danger to those around him, but his control was so absolute, she was sure it could never falter.

Well, she had learned nothing about Galen from this tower. She would have to wait until he returned and probe the man himself. He should be back in Zalandan in two days' time, three at the most, and the new game would begin. She stifled the tiny flutter of excitement that rippled through her. It was too unsettling to think of coupling with Galen. Instead, she would fasten her thoughts on that idiotic bird winging his way toward Said Ababa.

Dust motes danced on the narrow path of sunlight streaming through the long, narrow window into the chamber. The ride to the tower had been long and hot, but now the heat was abating. In truth, it was quite pleasant in this circular room, the sun bathing her face…

In the distance Galen could see the watchtower silhouetted against the blood-red setting sun. Pavda was tied to the tree that grew beside the brass-bracketed door.

One horse. She was alone in the tower.

It could be a mistake. Kalim could be wrong.

But Kalim would not lie to him.

She could have a purpose for being here.

Of course she had a purpose. Her lover had told her to meet him.

Rapunzel, let down your hair…

The narrow tower window was dark. Was she waiting for her lover to arrive before she lit the candle?

He could feel the shadows of the tower reach out with iron claws, dragging him into darkness.

He was a civilized man. He should think, he should try to search out reasons, delve into his soul for understanding.

Yet the closer he came to the tower, the more his thoughts became blurred. Time seemed to shift. The man he had become was lost. The wild, primitive boy he had been when he had last ridden this serpentine road toward the tower was found.