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those nobles who refuse to extend their allegiance to us? The other city-states have kept carefully clear of this war, but what if they—seeing us grow more powerful—decide to attack us?
    “You understand the problems?” Cardinal Radisovik demanded, turning around to face the discomfited Mosiah. “Yet whenever I try to talk to Garald about them, he waves his hand and says, ‘I don’t have time for this Discuss it with my father.’ And the king tells me brusquely, ‘I have worries enough with this realm. Refer all matters of war to my son!’”
    Mosiah shifted from one foot to another, wondering if he had Life enough to sink quietly through the floor. Seeing the young man’s discomfort and realizing what he had been saying, Radisovik checked himself. “I do not mean to burden you with my problems, young man,” he said.
    Leaving the window, he crossed the room to stand near Mosiah, who watched him with a kind of awe. Everythingabout the minister spoke of court intrigue; even the skirts of his gold-trimmed robes appeared to whisper secrets as he walked. “With the help of the Almin, these things will work themselves out. Now, you came here for a reason and I have kept you talking of inconsequential matters. I apologize. What can I do for you?”
    It took Mosiah a moment to gather his thoughts, all the while noting and appreciating Radisovik’s skillful handling of what could have been an awkward situation. Very neatly the Cardinal reduced his criticism of his Prince to an “inconsequential matter” and dumped it in the lap of the Almin, subtly instructing Mosiah to forget what he had heard and put his trust in god.
    This Mosiah was only too willing to do. Sharakan was not a dangerous court, as was Merilon rumored to be these days. Still, no royal court was truly safe and Mosiah had learned early on that it did not pay to know either too much or too little.
    “I apologize in advance for bothering you with something so trivial as what I’m about to ask, Cardinal Radisovik,” the young man said. “But … it’s important to me … and no other catalyst will perform it without obtaining your clearance, since we are in a state of war.”
    “What is it you want, my son?” Radisovik asked in a mild voice that had yet grown suddenly cool and cautious.
    “I … I came to ask if you would open a Corridor to me, Holiness.”
    “You want to leave Sharakan,” Radisovik said slowly.
    “Yes, Holiness.”
    “You are aware that travel outside the magical boundaries of this city is forbidden for the good of our citizens. All travel is perilous these days, especially for the citizens of our city. Our own
Thon-li
currently control our Corridors, with the help of the
Duuk-tsarith
, of course. But it is possible that the warlocks of Merilon may always attempt to gain entry.”
    “I know, Holiness,” Mosiah said respectfully but firmly. “This trip is important to me, however, and I am willing to take the risk. I’ve informed Prince Garald,” he continued, seeing Radisovik hesitate. “He gave me his permission to leave. I have a message from him.” Fumbling in his tunic, Mosiah produced a small crystal globe that, when activatedby a spoken word of magic, would produce the image of the young and handsome prince of Sharakan.
    “That will not be necessary,” Radisovik said, smiling “If you have discussed this with Prince Garald and he has given his permission, then I will certainly open a Corridor and wish you godspeed. Now, where is it you want to go?”
    “The Borderlands,” Mosiah answered.
    Radisovik started, looking at the young man with a mystified expression “Why do you—” Then his brow cleared. “Ah,” he said softly. “Today is the anniversary.”
    “Yes, Holiness,” Mosiah replied in a low voice. “I’ve never been there. When the Sorcerers found me in the Outland, I was more dead than alive. I didn’t hear what had happened until … long after I wanted to go, but I couldn’t make