They burst in in a rush. We discharged our spring tubes and began swinging swords, retreating to a corner away from the fireplace. The tall man watched indifferently.

There were a lot of Rebels. Far more than we had expected. They kept storming inside, crowding up, getting into one another’s ways, climbing over the corpses of their comrades. “Some trap,” I gasped. “Must be a hundred of them.”

“Yeah,” Candy said. “It don’t look good.” He kicked at a man’s groin, cut him when he covered up.

The place was wall-to-wall insurgents, and from the noise there were a hell of a lot more outside. Somebody didn’t want us getting away.

Well, that was the plan.

My nostrils flared. There was an odor in the air, just the faintest off-key touch, subtle under the stink of fear and sweat. “Cover up!” I yelled, and whipped a wad of damp wool from my belt pouch. It stunk worse than a squashed skunk. My companions followed suit.

Somewhere a man screamed. Then another. Voices rose in a hellish chorus. Our enemies surged around, baffled, panicky. Faces twisted in agony. Men fell down in writhing heaps, clawing their noses and throats. I was careful to keep my face in the wool.

The tall, thin man came out of his shadows. Calmly, he began despatching guerrillas with a fourteen-inch, silvery blade. He spared those customers we had not bound to their chairs.

He signed, “It’s safe to breathe now.”

“Watch the door,” Candy told me. He knew I had an aversion to this kind of slaughter. “Otto, you take the kitchen. Me and Pawnbroker will help Silent.”

The Rebel outside tried to get us by speeding arrows through the doorway. He had no luck. Then he tried firing the place. Madle suffered paroxysms of rage. Silent, one of the three wizards of the Company, who had been sent into Tally weeks earlier, used his powers to squelch the fire. Angrily, the Rebel prepared for a siege.

“Must have brought every man in the province,” I said.

Candy shrugged. He and Pawnbroker were piling corpses into defensive barricades. “They must have set up a base camp near here.” Our intelligence about the Tally guerrillas was extensive. The Lady prepares well before she sends us in. But we hadn’t been told to expect such strength available at short notice.

Despite our successes, I was scared. There was a big mob outside, and it sounded like more were arriving regularly. Silent, as an ace in the hole, hadn’t much more value.

“You send your bird?” I demanded, assuming that had been the reason for his trip upstairs. He nodded. That

provided some relief. But not much.

The tenor changed. They were quieter outside. More arrows zipped through the doorway. It had been ripped off its hinges in the first rush. The bodies heaped in it would not slow the Rebel long. “They’re going to come,” I told

Candy.

“All right.” He joined Otto in the kitchen. Pawnbroker joined me. Silent, looking mean and deadly, stationed himself in the center of the common room. A roar went up outside. “Here they come!”

We held the main rush, with Silent’s help, but others began to batter the window shutters. Then Candy and Otto had to concede the kitchen. Candy killed an overzealous attacker and spun away long enough to bellow, “Where the hell are they, Silent?”

Silent shrugged. He seemed almost indifferent to the proximity of death. He hurled a spell at a man being boosted through a window.

Trumpets brayed in the night. “Ha!” I shouted. “They’re coming!” The last gate of the trap had closed.

One question remained. Would the Company close in before our attackers finished us?

More windows gave. Silent could not be everywhere. “To the stair!” Candy shouted. “Fall back to the stair.” We raced for it. Silent called up a noxious fog. It was not the deadly thing he had used before. He could not do that again, now. He hadn’t time to prepare.

The stair was easily held. Two men, with Silent behind them, could hold it forever.

The Rebel saw that. He began setting fires. This time Silent could not extinguish all the flames.

The front door opened. Two men shoved into the Lily, stamped their feet and beat the ice off themselves. Shed scuttled over to help. The bigger man pushed him away. The smaller crossed the room, kicked Asa away from the fire, squatted with his hands extended. Shed’s guests stared into the flames, seeing and hearing nothing.

Except Raven, Shed noted. Raven looked interested, and not particularly disturbed.

Shed sweated. Krage finally turned around. “You didn’t stop by yesterday, Shed. I missed you.”

“I couldn’t, Krage. I didn’t have anything to bring you. Look in my coin box. You know I’ll pay you. I always do. I just need a little time.”

“You were late last week, Shed. I was patient. I know you’re having problems. But you were late the week before that, too. And the week before that. You’re making me look bad. I know you mean it when you say you’ll pay me. But what will people think? Eh? Maybe they start thinking it’s all right for them to be late, too. Maybe they start thinking they don’t have to pay at all.”

“Krage, I can’t. Look in my box. As soon as business picks up...”

Krage gestured. Red reached behind the counter. “Business is bad everywhere, Shed. I got problems, too. I got expenses. I can’t meet mine if you don’t meet yours.” He ambled around the common room, examining the furnishings. Shed could read his mind. He wanted the Lily. Wanted Shed in a hole so deep he would have to give the

place up.

Red handed Shed’s box to Krage. Krage made a face. “Business really is bad.” He gestured. The big man, Count, seized Shed’s elbows from behind. Shed nearly fainted. Krage grinned wickedly. “Pat him down, Red. See if he’s holding out.” He emptied the coin box. “On account, Shed.”

Red found the silver leva Raven had given Shed.

Krage shook his head. “Shed, Shed, you lied to me.” Count pressed his elbows together painfully. “That isn’t mine,” Shed protested. “That belongs to Raven. He wanted me to buy wood. That’s why I was headed for Latham’s.” Krage eyed him. Shed knew Krage knew he was telling the truth. He didn’t have the guts to lie. Shed was scared.

Krage might bust him up just so he would give up the Lily to buy his life. What then? He would be without a gersh, and in the street with an old woman to look after.

Shed’s mother cursed Krage. Everyone ignored her, including Shed. She was harmless. Darling stood in the kitchen doorway, frozen, one hand fisted before her mouth, eyes full of appeal. She watched Raven more than Krage and Shed.

“What do you want me to break, Krage?” Red asked. Shed cringed. Red enjoyed his work. “You shouldn’t hold out on us, Shed. You shouldn’t lie to Krage.” He unleashed a vicious punch. Shed gagged, tried to fall forward. Count held him upright. Red hit him again.

A soft, cold voice said, “He told the truth. I sent him for wood.”

Krage and Red shifted formation. Count did not relax his grip. “Who are you?” Krage demanded.

“Raven. Let him be.”

Krage exchanged glances with Red. Red said, “I think maybe you’d better not talk that way to Mister Krage.”

Raven’s gaze rose. Red’s shoulders tightened defensively. Then, aware of his audience, he stepped over and threw an open-palmed punch. Raven plucked his hand out of the air, twisted. Red went to his knees, grinding his teeth on a whimper. Raven said, “That was stupid.”

Astonished, Krage replied, “Smart is as smart does, mister. Let him go while you’re healthy.”

Raven smiled for the first time in Shed’s recollection. “That wasn’t smart.” There was an audible pop. Red screamed.

“Count!” Krage snapped.

Count hurled Shed aside. He was twice Red’s size, quick, strong as a mountain, and barely as smart. Nobody survived Count.