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man who might or might not be an assassin was no new thing in this Kyro of the Happy Calsany. A few gold coins jingling, a smile and a word or two, and the matter was settled. We were known to be strangers, and rotten damned Hamalese at that, but gold was gold.
    We walked away, and Jaezila picked up a ripe shonage to eat as we went along.
    So I told them about my dealings with Vad Noran.
    “Unmok the Nets and I sold Noran a parcel of wild beasts. We were up at his villa when the slaves broke out.” I didn’t tell him why the slaves had escaped. “Some schrepims were released from their cage and the reptilian warriors went berserk.”
    “Schrepims,” said Tyfar. He pursed his lips. “Nasty.”
    “Quite. Unmok and I managed to beat them off with the aid of a lion-man, and this great Vad Noran appeared and was given the credit for the fight. We did not care. Unmok just wanted his money and to get out, and the numim escaped, for he had been a slave there. So now, I think, Noran wants to shut our mouths in case we spread the true story. He has been dubbed a great Jikai because of his supposed fight—”
    Jaezila laughed, striding along, munching shonage, the juices running down her chin. “It is strange, for we have heard of the Jikai Vad Noran performed. And it was like that!”
    “We heard more about this Noran, also,” said Tyfar, and he spoke seriously.
    “He builds vollers and no doubt sells the airboats to you?”
    “Yes. It was not his factory that was burned to the ground. But—”
    “But he seemed most pleased that the vollers had been destroyed.” Jaezila wiped juice. “No. Not seemed. He was damned pleased — and it is easy to see why.”
    These two blade comrades of mine believed that I worked in secret for the Empress Thyllis — a lie I had been forced to for the sake of friendship and a whole skin — and that I was Hamalese as they were. At least, as Tyfar was. Jaezila might not be Hamalese but she labored for that evil empire just the same. So I could say, with a grimace, “Because they hate us.”
    “They do hate us. And again, it is easy to see why.”
    Once more we were on thin ice. I guessed that Tyfar’s father, Prince Nedfar, did not share the grandiose ideas of conquest harbored by Thyllis. Hamal had extended out to north and south, laying waste lands and islands, sending her iron legions to destroy all the might sent against them. Well, we in Vallia were checking that onward march. But south of Hamal, in the Dawn Lands, the Iron Legions of Hamal surged on in blood and death. The invasion to the west of Hamal into the Wild Lands had been halted some time ago. To the east, across the sea to the island of Hyrklana... Well, would not Hamal seek to conquer Hyrklana in the fullness of time? Unless mad Empress Thyllis was stopped? There must be many men in Hamal who wished to check the empress and could not. And I had said — or implied — that I worked secretly for Thyllis. Tyfar’s father opposed Thyllis — again in secret. Yes, thin ice, damned thin ice...
    “The empress is like a dark center of contagion,” said Jaezila. I looked at her sharply. Tyfar’s face remained wooden. I guessed they had talked long and deeply on this. Now, how was I supposed to react?
    “I once said that revolution might not be the way. I once said—”
    “Yes, Jak the Sturr?”
    “I do not like wars and killing and all the horrors they bring in train. If they could be halted... “ I paused. “If they could, the world would smile again.”
    “But Thyllis is strong. My father extends feelers, but he must move cautiously.” Tyfar looked at me and his brows drew down. “We are blade comrades, Jak. Yet you work for the empress, personally—”
    “We are blade comrades. You are aware that my opinion of your father is that he is a great man. I would like—” Again I paused. “Prince Nedfar is a man among men.” Was the idea so ridiculous, so impossible? Would it be beyond the bounds of reason to