Blade shrugged and gave it up for the moment. He looked at Nob and smiled. «Let us get back to the room and sleep a time. I have a feeling that we will need it. And I have another feeling-something is going to happen.»

Nob rubbed his belly. «Will it have to do with food, master?»

«I know not. Just as I do not know if it will be for good or ill, but there is something afoot. Come, Nob. Before we fall asleep I wish to know all I can about this old woman who is called Pearl of Patmos. She who lives in a volcano? Is she black, then?»

They saw no one as they returned to their room. The music, still sweet and insidious, filled the room with languorous chords. Nob jerked his head at the music box and grimaced. «It never stops, sire. How can we outwit it?»

Blade motioned to a corner. «I will sing. You whisper in my ear. Tell me of this old lady who is said to live in a volcano, this old woman who Juna claims as grandmother.»

Blade began to sing. For some reason he could remember only a tune from Balfe, a thing his first nanny had often played on the piano and as often had sung to young Blade to lull him to sleep. He had not even thought of the song for years, now he sang it very badly and off key: «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in marble halls. .»

Nob was staring at him as though he were sure Blade had gone daft. Blade scowled and jammed an elbow into his ribs. Surely his. singing was not that bad! And it did not matter-he had no intention of giving a concert, he wished to hear about this strange old lady of the volcano. This Pearl of Patmos-black Pearl? — in whom resided the real power on this island, and was Blade's best chance of survival.

Nob still stared, his jaw agape. Blade nudged him again and whispered, «Speak, man! What of this Izmia?»

Nob's coarse whisper came like the croaking of a giant frog. «I know not how you came by this information, master, but you have surely been talking to a liar or a fool. Izmia, the Pearl, may be a grandmother-I have no cause to doubt that-but if so she is such a grandmother as I would wed in my dreams. For the truth is, sire, that Izmia has no agel Others have age, not the Pearl. She remains young when others wither and die. As for colorshe is called black because, I wot, she is not exactly white. Nor brown nor yellow nor green. Her flesh, so they say,

for I have never seen her with this eye, is the color of flame. They say her skin changes color like a strange lizard that sailors tell of, though I have never believed that tale.

«But there is a black pearl, or so the legend goes, and it is as big as a cabbage and lies at the bottom of the volcano pool. Lies there with the sword of Patmos, the very sword of he who founded this island in the dawn of time. All this is, you understand, only a story, master. A myth and a legend to be told to fools and children. Men of the world like ourselves, sire, will not believe in such drool. Please, master, could you leave off singing now? I cannot stand it on an empty belly.»

Blade glared at him, but broke off to whisper. «But this Ifzmia, this woman called the Pearl of Patmos-the black Pearl as you say-she does really exist? I must know for certain, Nob. For if she does exist, and has power as she must, we are going to make our way to her as soon as we can.

Blade began to caterwaul again. «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in.. «

Nob winced and whispered hastily. «Aye-she exists sure enough. In all her beauty and her years she exists. But she is a recluse, master, and never leaves her volcano. Her guard slay all who try to disturb her privacy. I swear by Juna's golden ass, sire, that there is no way in which a mere man may come to look on Izmia. Unless-«

Fury exploded in the corridor outside their room. There was much shouting and a rush of feet and the clang of steel on steel. Men cursed and men screamed.

Blade left off singing and stared at the closed door. The skirmish in the hall was continuing and coming closer. He heard a familiar voice cry out a command: «That is enough of killing. Take the others prisoner lock them in a room until we are gone. Now hurry that door yonder.»

Blade looked at Nob, whose mouth was still open. «Unless what, Nob?»

Nob gulped. «Unless, master, Izmia sends for us.»

Blade stroked his jaw and eyed his man. «I think, Nob; that it has come to pass. We will know in a moment.»

The door was flung open. Edyrn, wearing battle dress and, sure enough, the black pearl on his shoulders, looked in at them. His sword was bloody. He bowed formally to Blade.

«I am glad to see you safe and well, sire, and glad that we meet again. I am sent to take you from this place to another. If you are ready? T4pre is no time to waste.»

Blade went to the stout idd and: shook his hand. He smiled. «It is I who am glad to see you, Edyrn. We go, I trust, to the volcano to see lzmia?»

Edyrn bowed again. His blue eyes were as cool and direct as ever, but his smile was tentative. TheЈe was a fresh dent in the steel helmet covering his flaxen pate and blood — on his body armor. Blade admitted;his mistake again. This was no boy, never mind his years-.this was a man and a warrior.

«We go to the Pearl,» said Edyrn, «but the long way around. Matters have taken course much faster than we anticipated, sire, and Patmos is in mortal peril. Hectoris cannot yet be ready to invade us-all our spies tell of his unpreparedness-yet he does make the attempt. A small party of Samostans landed on our coast not an hour gone. This must be seen to at once.»

For once Nob appeared awed. He followed Blade as they were escorted down the corridor and out of the building. Blood and bodies were strewn around the hallway and, somewhat to his sorrow, Blade saw that one of them was the Captain Osric who had taken him prisoner on the beach. Osric had died well enough, his dainty ceremonial sword through the throat of one of Edyrn's big Soldiers. All the other dead were the effete troops whom Blade had so despised at sight.

Edyrn pointed with.his sword at: the dead Osric. «A former friend of mine, and a good man, but he chose a different path. He was coming for you, with his men, just as I came with mine. A near thing, sire.»

Blade's glance flicked around the bloody hall. «tuna's men? She sent Osric for me?» She had promised that she would not forsake him.

But Edym shook his head. «No. Not Juna. Osric loved her, and sometimes served her, but he was commissioned to the King and Queen. To Kador and Smyr. It was they who sent Osric for you, Sire Blade, not Juna. You are most fortunate that I came when I did, and that I brought soldiers with me and not courtiers.»

Blade's head was spinning. Later he would sort it all out. Much later, if he had his way. Now ft was enough to step out into the sunset and smell the perfumed breeze again. And to think of food. Food without penthe.

Edyrn handed Blade a sword and belt. Blade hefted it with joy. It was a broadsword, longer and heavier than the one Juna had thrown into the sea. He buckled it on with a grin. Matters were beginning to shape to his liking at last.

«We will get you full armor later,» Edyrn explained. «Now we had best be gone into the countryside as soon as may be. I have but few men and a task to do, and I do not wish to encounter any more palace troops. In case you do not yet entirely understand, sire-there is civil war in Patmos this night.»

Blade had not understood; not at all. Civil war? Just another of a thousand things he did not understand, but he let his face show no.trace of his bewilderment.

«Civil war, Edyrn? Who fights?»

«The King and Queen have risen against Izmia, the Pearl of Patmos. They think victory certain because they know that the Pearl has only her Guard to protect her. But they choose a bad time for it-as I told you, Hectoris has chosen this very time to put his first troops ashore.»