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Chapter 9 The Palace of Reflections 

        Simone was dazzled by the Palace. Built on a vast scale, it was an artful arrangement of murals, mirrors, skylights, and miles of glass walls. There did not seem to be a solid wall in it. All around her were reflections of reflections of reflections. Within the wide halls were crowds of Lusettas and other Sarrs. Without were flocks of Lusettas, flying or perched in the many trees, and the still waters of the wetlands reflecting all.

        On the way to their living quarters they passed white, wooden columns; sunken, indoor pools; and painted murals depicting nature scenes--these latter so realistic that Simone almost wanted to step into them. Literally walking into walls was not an uncommon occurrence at the Palace, she soon discovered, since the sheets of glass or mirror produced many illusions. Fortunately, other humans preceded her, so she personally was spared the embarrassment; and just as fortunately, no glass was broken.

        The Lusettas had discovered the right proportion of openings to provide ventilation and prevent the Palace from becoming a hothouse. These openings included unroofed areas and the occasional open space where a wall might have been expected. Simone tried to joke about this with the Lusetta who led them, since on the other hand, so many walls seemed to be openings. However, the guide saw no humor at all in the situation.

        Simone began to wonder if Lusettas saw humor in anything. For one thing, their few murals that were not of nature were scenes of high tragedy: the dying sacrifice of Queen Pelu; the slaughter at the White Palace; the love-suicide of Princess Lefsa and young Riprew. These were all explained to her in more detail than she desired. Then also, the Lusettas were taking the perfidy of the late Lord Lamu so terribly hard. They still hinted at mass suicides, so Simone again forbade them any such thing.

        When she came to her private suite, she was well satisfied. Its single mural was of nature only, and as elsewhere, its rooms full of light. Once again she was at pains to keep the other humans at a distance with all their talk and bustle. They were situated in another wing of the palace, and only her adopted Uncle Demee was allowed to come to her freely. She considered allowing Athlaz too, but thought the boy looked too disconcertingly moonstruck. Was he in love with her or just awed by her pedigree? In the end, she occupied her suite with her Ulrigs, Mald, and Misu, and reclining on a rich, human-size couch, did little for an hour but stare at the goldfish in a little pool beside her. She was not at all offended to find that Misu snacked on the fish.

        Public feasting is not fashionable among the Lusettas, who consider it unrefined. Rather, food was brought to the guest rooms in the early evening, along with an invitation to the filsle, or air dance, to be performed in Simone's honor.

        Mald advised against her attendance. "I'm afraid it will wound them deeply if you don't go," he said, "but you don't dare risk it. You see, it's done outside. Hundreds of Lusettas will be flying about, and who knows but that one of them will be another ro-beast like Lamu?"

        "What's it like, the filsle?" Simone asked.

        Misu stirred on her perch. "It's pure beauty, the highest art known to us." She sighed. "Once I myself aspired to be a sle-dancer."

        "Don't stir up the Empress," said Mald cautiously.

        "You've seen it, Mald?" Simone asked.

        "Yes, I've seen it several times."

        "And?"

        "And what?"

        "Well, is it worth risking death?"

        Mald actually paused and considered. "Some might say so, your Eminence. It is--indescribable." He collected himself. "But of course, the risk is unthinkable."

        Simone paused to eat with her hand from a silver plate. "Mmmm! This fish is delicious. It's so well-seasoned. What cooks they must have here!" She waved her hand through a finger bowl and, leaning forward on her couch, grinned slyly at where she judged Mald's face to be.

"Mald, is your hair any grayer, do you suppose, since you became my counselor?"

        In the midst of the wetlands behind the Palace was a small artificial hill, bare except for grass, and reached by a narrow earthen causeway. At the foot of the hill waited the musicians: Lusettas and a few Loopers. At the top stood Simone, Mald, Snag, Snart, and the two Sarr kings. Lugel wore as his mark of royalty a gold necklace set with red stones. Even as he showed them where to stand and explained about the performance, he showed signs of nervousness and embarrassment, no doubt concerned about making up for the affair of Lamu. In contrast, old Korazagel showed only typical Looper calm and good cheer. A rich crown and cape did little to offset the simplicity of his tongue-lolling grin.

        "This is a private performance," said Lugel, his weasel face upturned to Simone's. "The name of the piece is Unforeseen Fortune. I think you'll enjoy it more if you turn about some where you stand, and I should warn you to expect a slow start. Let's all be silent now."

        Simone thought it a slow start indeed, as nothing happened for a few minutes. Then one Lusetta came gliding gracefully and swiftly by, its long neck arched. It disappeared into some trees at a distance, and they waited again. A second Lusetta swung near them, hovered, and moved on. Then two more. Soon several at least were always in sight and often flying so close that Simone's heart leaped. They darted and twirled and spun around to return, in groups or singly; and gradually their numbers increased. Simone turned around slowly at the top of the hill, thrilled with it, wishing to shout out loud but afraid to mar the performance.

        The music began, so slowly, so perfectly adapted to the filsle; a sort of sea music that rose in waves, reminding her of 'La Mer.' Now hundreds of the dancers were shooting by all around her, sometimes twirling in circles, sometimes flying up and outward in sprays of white, sometimes dipping so close to the water that bird and reflection were one blur. Then her eyes were opened and she saw all around her their hundreds of reflections, which she had not noticed before, like white fireworks in the dark water.

        Soon nearly all the Lusettas rose together in a great, spiral ribbon, and the music swelled to match their movement. Simone's hands flew up, she began to shout, and for all she knew, almost flew off the hill herself. For long moments she was transported, tears in her eyes, lifted above the Fold to a clear, bright place. All she could think was, 'Let it never stop.' For Ulrumman was there.

        But the long chord ended and the Lusettas' spiral drooped. The filsle was still heart breakingly beautiful, but something had changed. She saw that the dancers were fewer now, and fewer yet as each minute passed. The music told of endless loss and decay, the slow crumbling of an empire. Fortunately for Simone's pride, this movement was lengthy; for when the dancers had dwindled to a dozen or so and the filsle was not yet over, she was able to stop crying.

        The music was very low now and only three Lusettas remained. Two. One. The last dancer swung close to her and touched her outstretched fingers with its wingtip. Then it was gone, disappearing into the dark trees at a distance. The music was ended. A long silence followed.

        Simone became aware of Mald crawling up onto her shoulder. The poor Sarree was shivering.

        "Words fail me," he said. "Magnificent."

        "Thank you," said King Lugel. "Empress?"

        Simone sniffled and coughed. "It was wonderful, thank you. I will never, never forget this till my dying day."

        Lugel turned. "And you, King Korazagel?"

        The fat, old Looper looked out from under his crown with one eye and pawed at his cape. "Not bad," he said. "You Lusettas know how to put a polish on things, I grant you. Still I prefer a Looper jig any day.'

        Simone almost hit him.

        On her way off the causeway, so drained that she leaned on Snag's paw for support, Simone remembered her supposed danger. During the dance she had not given one thought to the possibility of an assassin among the dancers. 'In any event,' she considered to herself, 'I would have died happy.'
 

        The wooden furniture was so ancient it was almost crumbling; black, carved, and heavy; very out of place in the glass walled Hall of Council. But the pieces gleamed from the care given them, as the morning sun poured into the room from a thousand angles, lighting even the underside of the massive, rectangular table. On this her second day at the Palace, Simone strode from chair to chair, making faces at the strange carvings in their backs. The Misar Fijat Razaber hopped to a chair seat and from there to the table top, and so followed her around at an easy speaking level. They were alone in the great hall.

        "These chairs and table are preserved from the last Great Council," Razaber said in his rumbling little voice. "That was the Egg Loss Council of 3699 N.R., back in Lila's day."

        "Everything happened in Lila's day," said Simone, who was beginning to resent her near-perfect ancestress.

        "That remains to be seen. Just keep in mind that the council that has met here since February is not a Great Council. There have been only four Great Councils in all history, and we don't call them lightly. No, this is merely a Council of the Forest, one that started in the Great Stone Tower of the Nasseelkir away west and then moved here for the convenience of a more central location."

        "What's this?" Simone said, pointing to a lizard-like head of human size carved in the back of one of the chairs. She was feeling surly and did not mind changing Razaber's subject.

        "A Silb," he said patiently. "Their species lives far to the north, and they've pretty much kept to themselves this last twenty-five hundred years or so."

        "And this?" The next chair's carving was of a hideous bat face, again as large as Simone's own face.

        "Ah, the Vults," Razaber responded. "We hear less of them than we do of the Silbs. They're dormant, you see, like death, for many hundreds of years and then come to life again. We haven't heard of a Vult sighted since about 3890 N.R.--that'd be about 1590 A.D. in your reckoning. Gone into some cave to sleep again, I suppose."

        Simone passed by the familiar images of a Dragon, an Ulrig, and a Lusetta on the next three chairs and, coming to the head of the table, saw a human face in the back of the throne-like chair.

        "This is where you'll sit tomorrow night," Razaber said, scrabbling his way across the table to her. "Only one member of each species actually sits and debates, and only one turn each. That simplifies things. Others are in the room, but only as advisors to the chair holders. No other human will speak unless you give up the chair."

        "Gladly," said Simone in her most teenager-ish manner. She passed the image of a Looper on the other side of the table and came to a sort of glorified highchair, sturdy as the others but with a raised seat. It's carved image was small, long snouted, and toothy, with leaf shaped ears. "Fijat?" she guessed.

        "Yes, we weren't yet invisible when these chairs were made."

        "How did that happen that the Fijats became invisible?"

        "It's a long--"

        "Yes, a long story. Everything is in this world. And Lila had something to do with it, right?"

        "Young lady--" Razaber began rigidly.

        "Empress," she corrected.

        He sighed a small Fijat sigh. "I don't think you sincerely want to know, but yes, Lila comes into that story too. However, to my knowledge she neither created the earth nor sent the great flood."

        Simone did not respond to the Misar's humor. She came to the next chair, the back of which was uncarved. Black drapings were laid over the arms and seat.

        "Somebody die?"

        Razaber took his time in responding. "Yes, they are all gone, all dead for ages. We have no carving here because even the memory of what they looked like is lost. Ah, I see that affects you. Us all the more. We Sarrs slaughtered these Hagards to extinction in a great war before humans ever came to the Fold. The Ten Species are no more. The Sarrs will never again be more than nine. Lost, irreplaceably lost, and all for nothing."

        "That must be some story," said Simone encouragingly.

        "Well, you won't hear it," said Razaber, who was beginning to be surly himself. "It's our great shame and loss; you humans have nothing to do with it."

        "Fine. Who cares?" She moved on to the last two chairs, which had images of cat-like faces, large and small, but she did not hear Razaber follow. He stayed in front of the black draped chair.

        "Everything," he said, and mumbled something more.

        "Everything what?" she asked, coming back to him.

        "Everything that is happening now has its roots in what happened then. No one can truly understand unless--unless you know, Empress, that we Sarrs bore this burden of guilt for centuries, and so we were called the Litt Narva, the Burden Bearers. Only the true and great Sisskame could free us; that would be the human who would go from the Fold back to the Old World and lift the humans there out of darkness. Only then would our mission be complete and we become the Litt Goloth as we are today."

        "The Burden Eased," said Simone thoughtfully.

        "Yes, but the scars remain. Prince Kuley--that was Lila's half brother--proved to be the Sisskame we looked for, but the needed healing did not all take place in his day, or even now. That's why you are here, you and your brother."

        "I'm sick of responsibility," said Simone.

        "Something else is troubling you, my dear. Mald says you aren't sleeping well."

        Simone considered whether to ask this wise old Fijat about Ulrumman. After all, his sister Raspberry had died serving this Lord and Maker (as Simone translated the name), so Razaber must know if it was right for Simone to worship Him. She had just made up her mind to ask, when a Dragon appeared at one of the door openings. She pressed herself back against a glass wall and stared. Crouched on its hind legs, it stood ten feet tall under the high ceilings of the Palace. It was green with yellow eyes, and real smoke ascended from its nostrils. A wingless, sawtooth back.

        "Dramun, meet the Empress," said Razaber pleasantly.

        "I'm honored," said Dramun, entering the room. "Lady of Lucilla, we wait eagerly to hear your views on the human depredations in southern Eschor. No doubt Razaber has told you that many Ulrigs and Dragons are suffering there?"

        Simone nodded tensely. All she really remembered was Mald's instruction not to trust Dramun of the Dragons. She decided she did not need the warning. The room was hotter with Dramun in it.

        "And what do you propose to do?" Dramun asked.

        "We'll discuss that at the formal meeting," Razaber said.

        "Ah, but you Fijats discuss everything with Simone in private, while other species are barred from her."

        "Her bodyguards are Ulrigs. That should please you," Razaber answered easily.

        "It does. But what about the Dragons?"

        "Which Dragons? Zeeba's Dragons or the old Dragons of the Pons?"

        Dramun hesitated for a moment. "Zeeba's, of course."

        "The minority," Razaber rumbled. "No, the Empress prefers a representative of the Pons Dragons. One may yet show up to unseat you before the Council meeting." Razaber hopped to the floor. "If you'll excuse us, Simone wishes to see more of the Palace."

        "The Lady's wishes seem known to you before she speaks," replied the Dragon pointedly. "Perhaps she should decide for herself, both in this and other matters." But he bowed and made way for them.

        Simone was glad enough to get away from Dramun, but felt a bit sorry for him. Why, she wondered, should she be his political enemy? Because somewhere humans and Dragons were at war? Because he perhaps did not want her to be acknowledged as Empress? She did not care much about either point. Besides, she had already learned to appreciate Ulrigs, Lusettas, and Fijats, and to love Loopers; so why should she not find something to like about Dragons too? To help herself along she gave Dramun the nickname Old Scale Tail.

        The next evening Simone sat at chess with Misu in one of the library rooms of the Palace. Small, Lusetta-size books filled one wall, the rest being of glass, so that the room was as well lighted as any of the others. The chess table and chairs were also of glass, as were the board and pieces. Misu played with a clear set of men and Simone with a smoky, dark set. Snag and Snart watched impassively while Misu tentatively shifted the position of an iron house to a safer square.

        Simone rather enjoyed the game, for Clay had taught her a few things, and Misu was not very good. However, even her opponent's imminent checkmate could not drive away Simone's anxiety over the coming Council meeting to which she would be summoned at any time.

        Misu tried one last trick at the board, one Simone had been watching for, and Simone quickly played the correct reply. "Excellent, your Eminence," said the Lusetta. "I resign." Standing on one talon on her chair bar, she reached out with the other and delicately laid her king down.

        "You weren't letting me win, were you?" Simone asked. She found Misu's weasel face hard to read.

        "No, your Eminence, but I am distracted. I'm worried about the Council--and another matter."

        "What's that?"

        "Your gown, Empress."

        "My gown? What about it?" Simone was arrayed splendidly in cloth-of-gold with matching slippers and a green belt--gifts of King Lugel. "I'm dressed like a queen."

        "Just so, Simone; that is, like a queen and not an empress. King Lugel puts subtle thought into his gifts. He knows that a genuine empress wears purple." In her nervousness, Misu stepped back and forth on her glass bar. "So without consulting Lugel, I've had a suitable robe made up by my own household, secretly and at my own expense. You must wear it tonight, Simone, no matter how I anger the king."

        Simone leaned forward earnestly. "If I wear it, how will he punish you?"

        "Perhaps not too badly," sighed Misu. "Lugel is not cruel natured. At the least, I will lose my place in the Palace, and I may also be banished, along with my servants."

        Simone picked up one of her dragonfighter pieces from the board and examined it while she thought. "Abram says that a friend is like a glass goblet: handle gently. Thank you, but I won't wear your present, Misu."

        She was surprised to hear Misu's slight exhalation of relief. "And you'll command your Ulrigs to silence?" asked the Lusetta.

        Simone nodded to Snag and Snart.

        "Thank you, Empress. I'm afraid I'm not so brave as I thought. I've flown alone over the Vulture's forest at night and never flinched, and yet the thought of losing my place here chills my wings. Is that strange to you?"

        Simone had no chance to answer. Several noble Lusettas appeared in the doorway.

        "Empress, you are humbly requested to take the chair of greatest honor at the Council of the Forest."

Chapter 10 The Council of Simone 

        She sat at the head of the table in her cloth-of-gold. To her left were King Lugel and Grall the Ulrig, and beyond them the towering, steaming Dramun. To her right were Korazagel and Razaber. At the far end of the table stood the empty chairs intended for species that had not answered the call to council or, in the case of the Hagards, never would. Behind each seated Sarr stood his attendants, speaking in whispers. Simone's attendant was her 'Uncle' Demee, Demetrius of Ursala, who functioned only as her recorder: she was to look to Razaber for wisdom. Snag and Snart, of course, flanked her chair.

        The Ulrig Grall stood, tall for an Ulrig, taller than Simone. He was as yet the only Ulrig she had met who wore spectacles. He also wore a dark scarf wrapped round his neck and draped down his gray-flecked chest.

        "I have been chosen by lot to begin the debate," he said. "But first I pause to welcome the Lady of Lucilla to our table, most estimable of humans." He bowed. "Lady, you alone of us may not be fully advised--" he glanced meaningfully at Razaber's chair--"not fully advised, I say, concerning the immediate crisis in the East, my homeland. It is, I am sad to say, a war begun by the humans. Ulrigs and Dragons have fought only in reaction, and many have died. These humans of Eschor are intractable, unshakable in their determination to slaughter us. Only a convincing victory on our part will bring them to accept terms of peace. However," and again he looked at Razaber's chair, "some Sarrs have not rallied to our bleeding call for help. Not even all of the Dragons, worthy as they are, have come to our aid.

        "Some say--" and here Grall paused, breathed deeply, and wiped his glasses on his scarf. "Some say that only the prophesied descendant of Lila could unite us in closing the terrible wound of this long war. I agree. A genuine Lila-me is needed, right now, in the Eastern Range. Therefore, the representatives of the Ulrigs and Dragons, with the consent of the Lusettas and Loopers, formally entreat you, great Simone, to come to us in our great need, even as our Captain Snag has helped you, saving your life. Won't you come to our aid?"

        As Grall turned directly to Simone, a great deal passed through her mind in a moment. On one level she thought Grall's invitation a sound one and was ready to agree to come. Just below that, she remembered that this was not Razaber's plan and that she was not to trust Grall. At the same time, she was aware in her spirit, and with perfect certainty, that Grall was leading her toward a path of grisly betrayal--for, all unasked, Ulrumman was speaking to her again. Finally, she simply thought Grall's request out of order.

        While she paused, Razaber spoke. "The Empress wishes to hear a debate, Grall. If you're through speaking, others must have their turn. When all have spoken, my proposal will be voted on. If it is defeated, then and only then, you may put forward new proposals."

        Grall nodded politely and seated himself. Then Razaber lifted his voice to reach the corners of the room. "First some points need to be made concerning Grall's speech. It's well said: Go to an Ulrig for eloquence, a Fijat for wisdom. What are we to make of Grall's mishmash of ill-formed and uninformed ideas? Did the Eschorian humans attack the Ulrigs first? Did they start it? Yes--a hundred and eighty years ago! And a long period of peace intervened before the Dragons attacked, conquered Notoschor, and then multiplied their raids on southern Eschor to this day.

        "Next point. Grall wants Simone to rally the Sarrs to what he calls a convincing victory that will assure peace. By this he means that the humans in Eschor will every one be driven out or exterminated. When the last human is dead, Grall will declare peace.

        "Next point. Don't think it's lost on anyone, Grall, that neither you or Dramun ever addresses Simone as Empress. You call her Lady of Lucilla or such the like. If she comes into your power and favors your war of extermination, then you'll call her Empress. But that, Grall, will never happen.

        "Let me restate the sound plan that we are to vote on tonight. Simone was sent by Ulrumman to claim Eschor's throne, which is rightfully hers. Having done so, she could be the acknowledged Empress over all parties in the present war and so able to command a peace that's just and honorable. Now for obvious reasons she can't go to Eschor by way of the Ulrigs' mountains or the Dragons' seaways."

        "What are you insinuating?" said Dramun.

        "I imply no danger to her," Razaber insisted. "But she must not come to Eschor through the lands of Eschor's enemies, or the humans won't trust her. Beyond that, I very much doubt if either Ulrigs or Dragons would allow her through on such a mission. No, it's my time to speak, Dramun! I will be done soon, so wait your turn.

        "To continue, only one way remains. Empress Simone and a small, mobile band of soldiers must go north by the mountain track on the west of the Long Range, taking advantage of the no man's land between the Ulrigs and the human Tirasites. Then on through the Sidder-Phar and so around to Eschor." The invisible Sarree clicked his claws against his chair arm. "This is the plan to save the Fold. So speak up, Dramun. What do you have to say that makes you smoke up King Lugel's fine glass ceiling?"

        The Dragon rose from his chair, his head almost touching the glass Razaber spoke of. "A few matters bearing on a plan, your plan Razaber, that has already been twice rejected by this Council. Before, we merely said that the, uh, Lady of Lucilla could never be accepted by the Eschorians if she appears at the head of a travel worn, ragtag band. And that, I think, is enough to end further discussion of your absurd proposal that she go around the mountains. We Lazarites have also spoken of the danger of that mountain path: danger from heights, from bands of thieves, and who knows what else? But now news has reached us that the plague has broken out in the Tirasite states."

        The Sarrs in the hall stirred, and some began to talk out loud.

        "Yes, the very lands through which you would send Simone. During times of plague, I might add, many victims are driven from the towns up into the mountains--right across her path."

        Dramun's words sank deep. It was some moments before the hubbub of exclamations subsided. "Besides this, we now learn from King Lugel that the matter of Lord Lamu has been investigated. He did not plot alone! Several other Lusettas are implicated, including Lamu's chief butler Ruhal. But when Lugel moved to arrest them this afternoon, he found that Ruhal had already escaped northward. There's no doubt that he has gone to tell the Vulture everything--including the route proposed for Simone by Misar Razaber. If she goes that way now, she'll be watched and intercepted. So what was a foolhardy path is now suicidal. Let the matter be spoken of no more."

        The attendants in the hall, who were only permitted to whisper, were all whispering rather loudly. Razaber raised his voice above theirs. "I call for a short adjournment. We Fijats have more to say and want to--"

        "To beg someone else's speaking turn," Dramun finished for him. "Yes, I quite understand. But you should have worked that out beforehand."

        "Still," said Lugel, "a request for adjournment is not out of the ordinary. I have nothing against it."

        "Neither do I," said Korazagel.

        "Oh, have it then," said Dramun, obviously angry. "The vote won't change."

        Back in the library, the Empress' party looked at one another with dejected faces. Simone noted that even Snag and Snart seemed depressed and wondered how that could be, considering that they were Lazarites.

        Razaber pulled himself to a table top and sat mute for a while. "I blundered," he said at last. "I always knew that the route to Eschor was the weak point in the plan. Now, if she goes my way, Simone will have to brave plague and betrayal. The mountain path really does look suicidal. So we have just a few minutes to propose some alternate route that's plausible."

        "But we considered every other route a hundred times while testing your plan," said Mald. "All other ways are hopelessly blocked or impractically long."

        Demetrius seldom spoke, but he spoke now. "I won't have Simone go into such danger, even if you can convince the Council. You Sarrs don't catch the plague, so you don't know. It's horrible."

        "A bit beside the point," said Razaber testily, "since we're looking for an alternate route now."

        "No we aren't," insisted Mald. "We can still debate with them for the original plan."

        "If the way is watched by the Vulture, then it's unthinkable," said Demee stoutly.

        "What I'm going to do," said Mald, "is go see old Korazagel and jolly him into giving us his speaking turn. We'll keep Simone's turn, then, so as to get the last word after Lugel. Don't be alarmed, Simone. You won't enter the debate. Razaber will use your turn.

        "I'll not speak again," said Razaber. "The Council already views me as uninformed and ineffectual. I'd only hurt the cause--if we still have a cause. How we could have used my sister this evening! Razabera was always very persuasive with the Council."

        While they discussed and argued, Simone drifted to a quiet corner where Abram strummed his nevel and Misu read a tiny book held in her weasel's forepaws.

        "How can you read in this light?" Simone asked Misu, for the evening was far upon them. She adjusted the Lusetta's perch-chair for her and moved on to a large book stand on which rested a dictionary-size book open at the middle. She could easily make out the large, handwritten letters. The open page began:

                 A lamlef ba pris dalem et ba sandal, O nema prilem.

         "How, uh, very pretty are your feet in--why in sandals!--O daughter of a king," she translated under her breath. "They've taken the Greek word 'sandal' from humans. I wonder if this is about a human girl?"

    The rest of the passage made it quite clear that this was about a woman, as the poet described his way up her body. Simone wondered how human love poetry had found its way into the Lusetta's library. Curious, she turned back to the first page and read the opening words, 

                Neb kess kelnimangal Ulrumman ba trebkir del ka olm.

        "At the start, first-made Ulrumman the skies and the earth." It took a moment to sink in, and when it did, Simone was thunderstruck. "In the beginning," she slowly corrected herself, "Ulrumman--created--the heavens and the earth." She whirled around. "Misu! Where did you get this book?"

        The Lusetta looked up from her reading. "The Book of Books? Why, you as a human should know. Quintus brought it when humans first came to the Fold, and it was long ago translated into Kreenspam. It's become the holy book of many of us Sarrs."

        "You mean Ulrumman is the Thoz of the humans, the Theos?"

        Misu looked at her with tranquil curiosity.

        "Look," Simone explained, "Lila depended on Thoz, and now so do I, apparently, if He and Ulrumman are the same. And Misu, He's been talking to me again tonight."

        "Who has, your Eminence?"

        "Misu, I don't know how much responsibility I can handle, but if I can be sure that He's backing me up--and somehow I feel that He is! But, but there's so much that He wants done, and I have my own life to live."

        "I beg your pardon, Empress?"

        Demee interrupted them. "Time to return to the hall," he said. "Korazagel has given his turn to Mald."

        "Granted, the way west of the mountains looks dangerous. It is dangerous. But always the true danger is of corruption of the soul and mind." Mald spoke slowly and calmly to the Council. "We may give ourselves up to brutal revenge on the humans, may destroy them, reap the benefits, and prosper for long. But what will become of us in the end? We already have a chair in this hall that will never be filled again. If we go the way of Grall and Dramun, there will be another."

        Night was come, but rather than bring lights directly into the hall, Lusettas were placing lampstands in the rooms surrounding, so that the glass walled room was lit from without. Since most of the adjoining rooms had mirrored walls, room mirrored room into infinity, with multiplied lights both near and far. The effect was dazzling and disorienting.

        Simone might have shaken it off, if not for her awareness that she was on the verge of another mystical experience. She did not fight Him, but she hoped the material world would still exist when it was over. For right now the beams and columns of the Palace seemed to be shaking, as if threatened by some judgement. Beings of light approached through the rooms with awesome splendor. Or were they just the lamps? She closed her eyes and listened to her Master, felt His spirit touching hers, and wondered if her skinny body would fly apart. She was trembling. Yet this was Ulrumman, her beloved, so she did not really fear. Oddly, she could hear every word Mald was saying.

        "What of this plague, Sarrs? If Empress Simone is protected by Ulrumman, then we need have no fear for her. And plainly, she need never come in contact with a plague victim while on her way. We will keep such at a distance. I'll shoot them with my own crossbow if necessary. And what of the Black Vulture? The traitor Ruhal has flown to him and told him everything, has he? Everything? But Ruhal fled before this meeting, so how can he tell anyone what's decided here? The Vulture will only know from Ruhal that the mountain track was the route least likely to be chosen. As for watching the way and intercepting her, the Vulture's power does not extend to those lands she will pass through. At most, one of his flying ro-beasts might see and report, but the Vulture cannot reach. You well know how many millenia our enemy has kept within his bounds.

        "So what is this 'news' that Dramun brings? It's news of a plague that devours townspeople, not country wayfarers; and of a traitor who doesn't know enough to tell the Vulture anything useful; and of the Vulture himself, whose talon is too short to reach to the mountain foothills. In short, half of what Dramun gives us is old news and the other half a fresh report of matters that are harmless."

        'I'd like for You to put an end to this ugly, muddy feeling around here,' Simone said to Ulrumman in her heart. 'They're getting ready to be hideous, and if I'm not careful, they'll make me part of it. Hadn't someone better speak up and tell them?'

        She closed her eyes again and this time saw stars, stars, stars, flying like arrows; felt the shifting of the walls and floor as the building, so corrupt, cracked and settled. She heard glass breaking in distant rooms. But when she opened her eyes, Mald was still speaking calmly, winding down now, and no one seemed to notice anything extraordinary. Nothing was happening except that she was about to do something. She was not sure what. All eyes were now turning to Dramun. No one noticed the young and inexperienced Empress, who took no part in the debate.

        "King Lugel," Dramun explained, "has kindly ceded me his speaking turn. Ahem. So, Mald, the mountain track is more safe for the soul? How elevated. What a noble sentiment. But then what buffoonery that you immediately descend to the worldly matters of keeping the Lady Simone out of the Tirasite towns and away from plague ridden wanderers in the country. Which road will you take, Mald, high or low? If the Lady is protected by Ulrumman, then why take practical precautions? Because you don't really believe she's protected?

        "And why are you so relieved that Ruhal can't tell the Vulture this Council's final decision? You claim, on the one hand, that the Vulture is such a broken old thing that he can't reach beyond his borders anyway. Then you tell us it's lucky he doesn't know the Lady's route of travel. Well, which is it?" The Dragon laughed, and a small spurt of flame shot from his maw. "Why Mald, I believe we've caught you talking out of both sides of your mouth."

        'Old Scale Tail!' thought Simone. 'You know you've already won, so now you're just dragging out the sweet victory at Mald's expense. And what am I going to do now? Something really embarrassing, I bet. Will I have to tell them about my visions?'

        "So nothing has changed," concluded Dramun. "The mountain track is hardly to be ventured by a lone Fijat at night, let alone a dust-kicking band of some dozens. We must vote it down, and then renew Grall's request for the Lady to visit the Pamanbrem of the Ulrigs in the Eastern Range. Let us vote at once."

        "But one speaking turn remains," said Mald.

        "Misar, you put me out of all patience! And will you call for another adjournment so you can fumble for more weak arguments? I say no. Lugel?"

        Before the king could speak, Simone made some vague sound and all eyes turned to her. For the first time they noticed something strained in her face. "Yes, uh, an adjournment--is necessary."

        Dramun lifted a scraggly eyebrow and hastily reassessed the situation. "If the Lady is uncomfortable--"

        "Very uncomfortable," Simone said.

        He approximated a smile. "Of course, then. A few moments."

        "Make it half an hour." Simone stood and strode out, Snag and Snart at her heels. Mald and Razaber looked on with surprise and then scurried after her.

        By the time Mald, Razaber, and Demee caught up to her in the library, Simone had already begun to issue orders.

        "Misu! Fetch the cloak we discussed earlier. Things have changed and I need it now."

        "But your Eminence," said Misu, "we spoke of a certain problem...."

        "Banishment? You're leaving here with me, anyway. Don't worry, I'll make it right. Snart, go with her and carry it. Razaber? Where's Razaber?"

        "Here," said the Fijat, climbing to a table. "Simone, I was hoping you could make a final address, thanking everyone and all that, but we'll need your speaking turn."

        "What? Listen to me, you Narvans are always talking about the prophecies about me. Well, find the book they're in and give it to me." She gestured to the shelves. "It's here somewhere, isn't it?"

        "I'm sure I don't know, Empress."

        "Then--look for it! Abram, is there any music associated with these prophecies about the Empress?"

        "Uh, no Simone."

        "Then make some up. I want you to come back to the hall with me. What is it, Raz?"

        The Misar had never been nicknamed in his life, and it stopped him short.

        "Nothing?" she said. "Good. Here comes Snart with the cloak. I can see him through the walls. Why isn't Misu with him? Mald, you find that book if Raz won't and follow after. Come on, everyone." She started out of the library.

        "But Simone," Razaber said, leaping from the table, "our half hour! We have to plan a rebuttal."

        "I know, I know." Simone paused and knelt, reaching out to him uncertainly. "Where are you? There now." She stroked his invisible head. "Look, Razzy, this debate method just isn't working. Furthermore, you know I won't go off with gruesome Grall and Old Scale Tail. So I've got to--hey, Abram, that sounds good; try it a little more stately. Anyway, I can't wait half an hour. I feel like I'm on fire! Let's just go."

        She picked up Razaber with one hand and slid the other into a purple sleeve offered by Snart.

        "I have the book, Simone," Mald reported.

        "Good, mark the place."

        Just before she reached the door to the Council Hall, Simone heard the flap of wings behind her and momentarily felt something pressed onto her head. As Misu passed beyond them, Simone reached up and lifted off her head a laurel wreath woven round a gold circlet. She placed it on her head again, nodded to Abram, and floated in.
 

        They had kept their distance before, but now at last the cool, sophisticated Lusettas were flocking to be near the Hall of Council, filling the rooms adjacent till they made a low white wall all round, behind the glass. For suddenly everyone in the Palace knew that Simone had appeared in purple. Those within the Hall could hear the rustling of thousands of wings, the babble of their voices in which one word stood out: "Empress...Empress...Empress...."

    Not since Lila went across the sea, never to return, not since Emperor Kuley disappeared so long ago, had a true Sisskame walked the land. No Sarr could ignore the ancient call that five hundred years before had carried them all to war, rocking the continent and throwing back the onslaught of the humans. When all had been dark, Kuley had come back from across the sea, and the Litt Goloth--the Sarrs eased of their ancient guilt--had risen and conquered in the name of the Emperor. Even Fijats had fought in those days, even Lusettas. All that was now good in the Fold had in those few months been either saved or established, and all done in a paroxysm of what came to be called Kuley madness.

        Misu felt it now, the last to enter the Hall. She was thrilled that she was serving Simone, that she had brought her the purple robe and laurel wreath, and that she would be going with her on her travels. Razaber felt a trembling of he-knew-not-what as he obeyed Simone's instruction to hand the book of prophecy to the Ulrig Grall.

        Grall took it stiffly.

        "If you will, good Grall," Simone said, "read the prophecy."

        "I need not read it. Every cub knows it by heart."

        "Say it then."

        "Very well. 'In the year 5083 N.R., thus spoke the Ulrig prophet Snill: A king and queen shall come, teaching men to make way for the Goloth, completing the work of Kulismos. The Silent Cities shall sing; the Perg shall end his heresy; and the people of the East shall be saved.'"

        "Excuse me, you say this Snill was an Ulrig?" Simone asked.

        "Yes."

        "And do you believe this prophecy, Grall?"

        "I do."

        "Well, does it apply to me?"

        Grall grinned awkwardly. "Lady, that remains to be seen."

        "Grall, are you telling me plainly that you don't know whether I'm the Empress or not?"

        Grall was silent, sensing the trap.

        "Because," Simone went on, "everyone must question how you can call me to your mountains to unite the Sarrs if you aren't sure I'm genuine. Come out from hiding, Grall. Am I your Empress?"

        Much whispering filled the room as Dramun came to Grall's rescue. "Lady, events themselves will reveal the truth about you. No one can say whether you're the Empress until you behave as an Empress."

        "But! you're willing to vote to send this possible fraud by one road or another, aren't you? Say it plainly, Dramun. You don't know who I am, isn't that right?"

        Now Dramun also fell silent as Demee scribbled Simone's words. Simone raised her voice. "But I know who I am. I'm the Empress of all the Fold, as revealed by the genealogies of the Fijats. Furthermore, I'm going to Eschor by way of the mountain track."

    "We'll vote that down," Dramun said.

        "I'm going. I and Misu and several others. The prophecy says those easterners will be saved, not destroyed, so I'm going. By what right does this Council think it can rule me? Since some of you reject me as Empress, I reject them from the honor of accompanying me on my way! Uncle Demee, write down the names of those who oppose this journey of mine. Korazagel?"

        "Not my name!" the old Looper yapped. "Write me down as all for it. I'm sorry I doubted you, Empress Simone."

        Simone leaned over and patted his fat paw. "Think nothing of it. How about you, my good King Lugel? You've called me Empress from the start, when others wouldn't. Will you part with Misu as your gift to the Empress on her journey?"

        Lugel looked around again, through the glass walls, at the thousands of his subjects drawn near in uncontrollable excitement. "Misu is yours," he said cooly. "Ulrumman bless your path, Empress Simone."

        "You have my thanks. Grall?"

"I'm only concerned for your safety," said Grall too quickly. "Even if you could make your way along the dangerous mountain track, sooner or later you must pass the Iron Valley and come into open lands that offer no cover. We Ulrigs don't venture in those Trans-Titanite fields, and you'll have no human army to protect you."

        "That's exactly how you can help me," countered Simone. "The humans of the Forest States will gladly send such an army, but they can't go by my path, not in such numbers. They'll need to go by way of your mountain tunnels, Grall. I'm asking you to arrange to receive them and lead them north by your secret ways. Or will you leave me to die without them?"

        "It's--it's never been done," Grall said. "Ulrigs allow humans into our tunnels!"

        "Ahem, it's been done," said Razaber. "Both Lila and the Emperor Kuley were allowed."

        Simone straightened her back with the air of a disappointed schoolteacher. "You fail me," she said to Grall. "Let it be written that the Ulrigs denied their aid to the Empress Simone; that is, except for the illustrious Snag and Snart. Dramun? What aid do you offer me?"

        The Dragon was thoughtful. He could see that Lugel and Korazagel had defected, and that he and Grall were now in the minority. His plans to use Simone were out of the question. The most he could do would be to keep the Dragons from standing out as losers, while at the same time distancing them from Razaber's disastrous plan. That was for now. Later he would find other ways to save Simone from her suicidal folly.

        "Ah, Empress," he said (and Grall started at this form of address), "my aid consists of a valuable warning. The mountain track is death. You humans are small and soft, and therefore can't go through dangerous places in small numbers as we Dragons can."

        "Do you mean," smiled Simone, "that a lone Dragon could go that way fearlessly?"

        "Yes, of course."

        "I wonder--would a Dragon be sufficient to protect a few humans who went that way?"

        "More than suffi--I, uh. What do you mean?"

        "More than sufficient. I take you at your word. You've called me Empress and therefore owe me protection. You'll, of course, take a place among my bodyguards?"

        Smoke poured from his nostrils as Dramun's thoughts raced, searching for a respectable way out of this. Nothing came to mind. He nodded hesitantly.

        "Very well," said Simone, "I'm ready to declare this Council at an end. The Fijats, the Loopers, the Lusettas, and the Dragons all approve my decision and offer help. The Ulrigs both deny me any aid and reject my claim to the Empire. Let it be so written."

        "Uh, no, not at all," said Grall desperately. "No such intent, uh, Empress. I'll look into the matter of passage through the mountains for a few hundred human soldiers. It might possibly be arranged."

        "Not a few hundred, but thousands," Simone corrected. "Am I really your Empress?"

        "Yes, yes, your Eminence," he answered wretchedly.

        "Then you'll see to it. Arrange it. Demetrius will work it out with you."

        A long silence followed. Razaber broke it at last. "We are then unanimous," he said, "and this the Council of Simone is ended." As the Sarrs broke into excited talk, he leaned down and whispered to Mald, "And you could knock me over with a feather."

        Mald squeaked agreement. "I just sat through it, and I don't believe it. It's madness, sheer Kuley madness."

Chapter 11 The Mountain Track 

        Two weeks later, in the sparse eastern edges of Skoteine, a company of travelers marched a wooded trail, making toward the open plain beyond the forest. First came an Ulrig, then three humans, and then another Ulrig. Lagging far behind came a miserable looking Dragon of the smaller sort. The Dragon appeared to be talking to himself.

        "Yes, I know I've lost sight of them, Misar Mald, but my feet hurt every bit as much as they did yesterday and every day since we started. Dragons were not meant as land travelers."

        "You could end up walking a good deal more than necessary, Dramun, if you get lost," replied the Fijat from his perch on the Dragon's shoulder. "Although, I suppose I could hop down and track them with my nose. What are you stopping for?"

        Dramun leaned against an oak and adjusted the packs of provisions that were slung around his scaly waist.

        "Just a breather."

        "Yes, I understand, and I'm sorry for you, Dramun, but it won't do. Maybe if we gave some of your packs to the others?"

        "No, the others are too small."

        Neither spoke for a while as the birds twittered around them and the hot August sun shined down through evergreens. Then one of the company, a tall, skinny soldier, came walking back to them on the trail. Under this person's helmet was a girlish face.

        "Old Scale Tail, what can I do to help you?" She patted one of his iron-like foreclaws. "Shall I take one of these packs? I left mine up ahead when I started back to look for you."

        "No, no, Empress," said Dramun, straightening himself valiantly. "I'll be all right."

        "Well, it's not much farther today," she said. "We're going to sleep the rest of the day, so we can begin crossing the Areophar by night. Isn't that good news?"

        Dramun did not trust himself to say what wonderfully good news it was, since he might break down with relief. He merely nodded.

        "Good, then come along." She pulled him ineffectually by the claw. "It's not far to a big stone building that Snag said is our rest stop."

        "It's not a building," Mald said, as Dramun began to move again. "It's a statue."

        "Well, I couldn't see it clearly through the trees."

        Soon they caught up to the rest of the party: Snag, Snart, Athlaz, and Abram. These four were standing open mouthed before a truly immense statue. It reminded Simone of the Sphinx of Egypt; but rather than crouching on a sandy plain this concrete colossus was surrounded by the woods and half overgrown. It was a gigantic lion.

        "No need to gawk," said Mald. "It's been here for ages, a well known landmark."

        "But you've seen it before," answered Snag. "No doubt you gawked the first time."

        "I suppose I did."

        "Who built it," asked Athlaz, "and when, and how in this wilderness?"

        "I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know. The only thing I can tell you," said Mald, "is that there's another like it on the far western edge of this forest--just as big, but a dog rather than a lion. Also, the Bull of Stone Island just off the west coast is said to be of the same workmanship."

        "We know of two such wonders in our mountains," added Snart, "the Snake in the Long Range--which we may see in a few days--and the Crow in the Middle Range."

        "All of them were built long, long ago," said Mald, "and all face toward the center of the land, figures on the rim of a huge circle and looking to the hub. The hub is--to be guessed."

        "Then I think I can guess well enough," said Abram the Bard. "They face the Black Hall of Purgos."

        "Likely enough," said Mald, "but unproven. And what the statues' purpose is, no one has discovered. There's a room under each of them entered by a door in the front. Travelers sometimes use them for shelters, which is what we intend now."

        Snag had made his way around a hilly forepaw of the image. "I see the doorway," he reported. "Snart, come with me to investigate. The rest of you stay back."

        They were not long waiting. Snag and Snart came bounding out with their ears laid back.

        "Empress, we must get you away from here at once," said Snag. "We found five human corpses within, all recently dead of the plague."

        "Quickly, let's move upwind of them," Mald agreed.

        When the travelers had removed by some hundreds of yards, Snag felt it safe to pause and tell them more.

        "They're Perg villagers by the look of their clothes, come from the north to escape the infestation."

        "Escape it!" Mald exclaimed. "They brought it with them."

        "That often happens," said Snag. "The last great visitation of the Black Death was twenty years ago, but I remember it. Humans fled in every direction, but as often as not they were already infected without knowing it. We Ulrigs shut up the cave doors of the mountains to keep them out."

        "But why?" asked Athlaz. "Sarrs don't get the plague."

        Snag pretended not to hear, but Mald answered for him. "They just didn't want to mix in human troubles. No doubt, they've blocked their doors again this time, even the secret ones, until the plague is over. The better for us, since we're going that way and don't want to be waylaid by any Ulrigs. But where shall we spend the night, Captain Snag?"

        "You know the land better than I do," Snag grumbled.

        "Yes, and I know there are no more places such as we've stayed in till now, house of Looper or of hermit. So I suggest we sleep in the open and risk the dew. We'll do that often enough, I'm sure, before we come to the gates of the Sidder-Phar, so we might as well get used to it. No camp fire either, it attracts too much attention. If the night gets cool, Dramun will provide warmth enough."

        While the others listened to Mald, Simone looked around and happened to see something surprising, something even the wary Snag had not noticed. Perhaps her human eyes were more quick to detect the motionless and colorful.

        "What is that," she suddenly said, pointing, "a midget nun?" (She used the English word, there being no such word in Kreenspam.)

        About twenty yards away stood a little human, or apparently a human; robed and hooded in dark green, veiled in red, and masked over the upper half of the face in white. Only the eyes were visible. The others whirled around to face it.

        "It's a Perg girl," said Mald. "You humans don't go near her. She probably has the plague. Snart, hand me my crossbow."

        "You're not going to shoot her?" said Simone aghast.

        "Not unless necessary," said the Fijat, "and not to kill."

        Receiving from Snart the tiny, deadly weapon, Mald began to crank the string. For a moment Simone watched the bow tauten while seemingly hanging in the air.

        "No," she said. "Snart, go talk to her and find out what condition she's in. Mald, put that thing away!"

        "Yes, Empress. You understand it's just a precaution in case she should run toward you?"

        "I'll risk it, you barbarian."

        When Snart approached her, the girl turned as if to run and fell in the underbrush. He leaped to her and blocked her way. Then as the others watched, the two seemed to be conversing. At last, Snart returned and reported.

        "A sad story," he said. "She's the daughter of the family we found under the Lion, and the only survivor. She's been alone for a few days since the last of them died. She has a little food left and so far shows no signs of visitation, but she's exhausted, and distracted with grief and fear. Naturally, she's terrified of me, and of Dramun. She's just eleven. A little more of this and she'll go mad, in my opinion."

        "We hear entirely too much of your opinion," Snag said. "Just stick to your report."

        "Well, I feel sorry for her."

        "So do we. It's a shame we'll have to leave her," said Mald sadly, "but perhaps we can steer her toward a friendly hermit who would lay out food for her until the plague either takes her or doesn't. Snart, do you think you can direct her to--wait! Stop her! Look to the Lady!"

        Simone was already half way to the girl, and waved them away. "Stay back, you'll scare her!" In a moment she was leaning down to look into those haunted, young eyes. Though the others warned and pleaded, they could do nothing. Simone spoke quietly to the girl for some time and ended by welcoming her into her arms.

        They were a week crossing the War Valley. On the second day they were able to give the Perg girl to a company of some dozens of Pergs whom they met--for they often met them, many or few, fleeing their villages. Those who seemed whole were traveling with no plan or destination and were pitiful enough. Worse were the actual plague victims whom they saw staggering in delirium and agony and heard screaming by day and by night. Each found a place to die under some bush or in the grasses. Here and there the travelers found some of these already dead and gave them a wide berth. Whether dead or alive, Simone reminded herself, these wanderers were just the few who had left their cities and villages. What could it be like where they had come from?

        Mald informed her that the plague had first come to the Fold in 3650 N.R. and that it was believed that the Black Vulture had somehow introduced it. Since the date corresponded with the 1300's A.D. of her world, Simone wondered if the Vulture had somehow brought it from Europe. It certainly seemed to be the same Black Death she had learned about in history class, the Bubonic Plague that had once swept away a fourth of the population of Europe.

        Wishing to pass the open plain quickly, they made long marches, mostly by night. During this time, Simone often walked near Athlaz and had long conversations with him in which she did most of the talking. His shyness and deference brought her out of herself, so that by the end of the week she had told him the story of her life. She felt more and more comfortable with him, being very happy to make friends with a boy actually taller than herself--four inches taller! Around Athlaz she felt almost petite.

        He was silent, practical, sensitive to her moods. At such a young age, he was the most renowned warrior in the Forest States, and the champion wrestler. He was also clean living and prayerful, dedicated to Thoz. He even showed a dry sense of humor occasionally and did not blink an eye when she began to call him Thaz.

        He began teaching her the rudiments of fencing. At his suggestion, she carried her unsheathed sword in her hand for hours each day. This, he said, would gradually cause her to treat the sword as an extension of her arm and go a long way toward enabling her to defend herself with it. He wanted to make a reality of her temporary disguise as a soldier. She learned quickly.

        The travelers went unmolested across the War Valley, perhaps because Dramun was among them. The Pergs wandering in that desolate land had never seen a Dragon and almost invariably fled when they did, no matter what their numbers.

        In the early morning of August twenty-ninth they arrived worn out at the foothills of the Long Range. Later that day, they climbed to a stony vantage point high above the plain. While Snag and Snart went away to scout the area, Mald explained what lay ahead of them: weeks of cautious northward creeping along the high and tortuous track that paralleled the mountain tops. Simone listened with half an ear while daydreaming of far off Looper villages. Dramun was asleep in the sun.

        Suddenly, Mald stopped talking. "We have a problem," he said tensely. "Some creatures are approaching from upslope--Ulrigs I would guess, many of them."

        Athlaz leaped up. "They're below us too, I see them!" He drew his sword. Little Abram did the same, with wide eyes and quivering breath, and he kicked a bit at the Dragon to wake him.

        "Don't bother waking Dramun," Mald commented. "As like as not, he's in on it, as is our Captain Snag. This could have been planned by them all back at the Palace."

        Dramun was rising. "What, visitors?" he deadpanned. "Let's welcome some fellow Sarrs. This is good fortune."

        A score of Ulrigs were stepping out from the aspens above them. Their leader barked orders for them to stay back, then walked down to the travelers with Snag and Snart at his heels.

        "Don't be alarmed," he called cheerily. "I'm Senator Slig of the Ulrig assembly, come to welcome the Empress and her escort. Grall sent us a message to watch for you here."

        "Excuse me," said Mald. "Yes, I'm just below you, Slig, though you can't see me. Misar Mald. I just want to point out that I sent a message by the Lusetta Misu asking for a few Ulrigs to meet us with provisions for our journey."

        "And we received that message, Misar. Misu is our guest in the caves even now."

        "Or your prisoner? No, I don't expect you to answer that. Well, how did Grall communicate with you to instruct you to trap us here? Perhaps you Ulrigs have a rogue Lusetta or two in your pay?"

        Slig had one weak eye, watery and half closed, which opened a bit at this. He brushed his red scarf with a nervous paw. "I wish to speak directly to the Empress."

        Simone came forward and looked the Senator in the face for long moments. "Well?" she said.

        He stepped back and bowed clumsily. "Great Simone, your party is tired from journeying and no doubt hungry too. Please come with us at once up the mountain, just a short distance to a full table. Then you can all sleep in beds tonight."

        "In the caves?"

        "In our caves, yes, your Eminence."

        Simone looked past him to Snag. "Snag, what are you and Snart doing away from my side?"

        "We're answerable to our Senate," Snag answered readily. "Razaber's plan has not been good. For your safety, Empress, do as Slig advises."

        "An end to the nonsense," said Dramun happily. "From now on the Empress shall act like an Empress." He blew a fire ball into the air. "Ah, sanity! And a rest for my feet!"

        Simone kept her eyes on Snag while feeling more than seeing Athlaz and Abram close at her sides. Snag met her gaze steadily for long seconds, then looked away.

        "Well, Your Eminence?" Slig prompted.

        "Snag," she asked, "were you enlisted for this back at the Palace of Reflections?"

        He glanced at her. "No, Empress."

        "Do you want me to go with Slig?"

        "Yes."

        "And if I don't?"

        "If you don't then--then--" Snag drew his sword and placed the tip against Slig's hairy back. Snart at once did the same. "Then I'm at your command, Empress."

        Slig whirled around, his good eye popping. "Captain, put your sword down!"

        "No," said Snag. "You order your company to withdraw. Tell a few of them to return unarmed with the promised provisions. It's the wish of the Empress."

        "And bring Misu," Simone added. "At once, Senator!"

        Slig grudgingly gave the orders and the Ulrig company melted away.

        "You'll be executed for treason," he told Snag.

        Snag tilted his head toward Simone. "I think not. She outranks you."

        "You're the one in trouble, Slig," said Mald. "Attempting to kidnap an Empress, no matter how politely, is a serious crime. I could have you brought before the Forest Council. And as for you, Dramun, have you no shame?"

        "No force was used or implied," Dramun said.

        "Or implied!" Simone approached the Dragon. "Then why were we surrounded?"

        "I can answer that," Snart said. "The plan was to try persuasion first and force only as a last resort. Dramun masterminded this back at the Palace--that's why he didn't find some way to escape going with you. But I swear Snag and I were no part of it. Grall tried to talk to us there at the Palace, but we wouldn't listen."

        "So they tried to enlist you again here, just now?"

        "Yes, Simone, when we took a look around while you rested, Slig met us, told us the plan, and instructed us to approach you with him, since you would trust us."

        "And you agreed?"

        Snart's lip curled. "For the moment. But Snag and I made up our minds long ago that we would never be scolded by you again."

        "Oh, shut up," Snag said to him. "You talk too much."

        "Scolded?" said Simone. "Like back at Ruin village? I thought I spoke pretty mildly to you then, but it must have sunk deep."

        At this moment the Ulrigs with the provisions arrived. One of them carried Misu and set her down at a short distance. The dainty Lusetta tried her wings on a tentative hop and then flew to Simone's feet.

        "All well, I hope, Misu?"

        "All well, Empress. I saw their messenger while on my way here and outflew him. So these provisions were readied for you before Slig learned from Grall what to do."

        "Excellent, dear friend." Simone stroked Misu's head. "It's time we moved on. Dramun, I'll not be needing you anymore. I'm dismissing you. You've been a disappointment."

        The Dragon bowed like a toppling tree and righted himself. "My apologies, your Eminence. But you'll find the wisdom of the Dragon is deepest. The Fold needs you alive. If you had chosen my way, all would have been well."

        "You mean all would have been well for me."

        "Exactly."

        "That's not the same thing and you know it. Now I have something I want you to do. Stay here and watch for the human army from the Forest States. Make sure they're well treated and hastened through the Ulrig tunnels to the northern plains where I'll need them. Will you do that?"

        Dramun was silent for a time. "I will, if it must be."

        "I think you'd better, Old Scale Tail, because you're the only Dragon I've ever met, and so far you haven't represented them very well. This is a chance to redeem yourself and Dragons in general. Oh, and if a few dozen Loopers show up--from the village of Bibaseel?--send them along too."

        For their devotion, Simone praised Snag and Snart as little as she had criticized them at earlier times, for she kept in mind that their record was still spotty. Some greater test of their allegiance might yet come. In the meantime, she had to concentrate just on breathing as they climbed the valleys of the Titans, wending northward on high and stony trails. Having never before been in mountains, she had not imagined that the flatlands below would look so like an ocean spreading to the blurry, curved horizon. The grandeur of the peaks and valleys thrilled her.

        Other things too, manmade things, they came across on their way. First was the great stone Snake, brother to the Lion they had seen in Skoteine. They spent an uneasy night in the room beneath it and left it gladly next morning. Also, there were the Hepals, or Heads. These were enormous, ugly faces carved in the granite outcroppings in high relief, all facing westward. The Hepal's eye sockets seemed a foot deep, their lips bulbous, and each tooth large as a dining room table. Every half mile or so they came to one of these, and always it overlooked a 'saddle' or low place among the peaks.

        Snart explained to Simone, "The Hepals were carved by the Pergs long ago to warn their people not to cross the mountains."

        "What are they afraid of?" Simone asked as she huffed and puffed along their trail.

        "Damnation, chiefly. It's all Tiras' idea of a holy land. He was their great founding prophet of long ago. He seems to have gotten things muddled up: declared himself to be the Great Sisskame, heir to Quintus, and revealed that these lands west of the mountains are the, uh, Land of Freedom--or Paradise."

        "Paradise has the plague," commented Simone.

        "Yes. Anyway, for anyone to go farther east would be to deny that Tiras was the Sisskame. Thus, the Heads."

        "I'm the Sisskame," said Simone, still saving her breath with short sentences.

        "Actually, your ancestor Prince Kuley fulfilled the prophecies that Tiras tried to apply to himself. But your Eminence, you might as well know that their have been as many True Sisskames, pretenders that is, as there are needles on these pines. Even some Sarrs have tried to claim your title."

        "They can have it."

        Snart ignored this. "Tiras declared the line of the mountain tops as his uncrossable eastern border. But since no respectable Perg will risk being suspected of even wanting to cross them, they don't even enter the foothills down below. Only the non-respectable ones are found up here on the slopes: robbers, escaped slaves and prisoners, and now plague victims or those desperately fleeing the plague. To them the Hepals are a final warning, and even the most reprobate heed them."

        Simone looked around uncomfortably. "So the plague victims come up here too? I hoped we'd left them behind."

        "Don't be concerned, Empress. This is how the plague helps us, you see. Because of it, everyone avoids everyone else. Even the bandits are afraid to rob for fear of being infected by their victims. At least that's how it was during the last visitation. We may hope for an arduous but safe journey. The only problem is our food supply. What we are carrying won't last for the weeks of slow progress ahead. Sooner or later we'll have to go down to one of the towns and try to buy what we need."

        They delayed as long as possible, but after more than a week had passed the three humans went down to one of the Perg towns. They found what had been a city, now largely deserted. Grass grew in the middle of streets, corpses lay about where the victims had fallen, and many buildings had burned to the ground for lack of someone to put out a fire. As they made their way, they flinched to the shrieking of unseen victims who were writhing in agony inside the houses. Now and then they met folk, usually walking singly and down the middle of the street, who went wide around them. Stench, smoke, and groans were everywhere. Simone had never imagined such a horrible place.

        When they came to the market square, more people were visible; and here were a few stalls, and also ox-drawn wagons filled with the produce of the countryside. Athlaz approached one of the wagons and began to select foodstuffs to fill their empty bags. The wagon vendor, a wrinkled and swarthy man, bearded and blue eyed, would not allow them to handle his goods but made them point from a distance. All the time he kept lifted to his nose some perfumed substance wrapped in a handkerchief. What they chose he put aside on the ground away from his wagon. Then he put a bucket of vinegar between them, backed away, and had Athlaz drop their coins--in exact change--into it. Lastly, they were allowed to collect their goods. The travelers were glad enough for his precautions against infection, for they helped to protect them from him as well. Also, looking around, they could see that his methods were common in the market.

        While he retrieved their coins from the bucket, the old fellow spoke to them a little. Yes, other areas of the city were just as bad as this. No, he did not much expect to live. Yes, he had lost relatives, including a son. No, the end of the plague was not in sight, it having come only this year. No, the government could do nothing.

        "The Royal Interpreter?" he echoed with resignation. "He keeps to his island now on the Great Lake. People say he allows no one to come there for fear of the plague, and that he himself has plenty of supplies to wait it out. Many here in Urz have done something like that, stocked up on goods and locked themselves in their houses. But what can a poor man do? The business is here so I ride in to the market every few days. You see I'm as careful as I can be, and as for my fate, I leave it up to Thoz. Likely we're all going to die, and that as a judgment on our sins."

        He paused for a long time, and Simone hastened to fill a bag so they could be on their way back to the clean mountain air. As she was lifting the bag to her shoulder, he spoke again.

        "But this young Emperor, maybe he can do something."

        Simone started. "Who is that?" she asked in as level a voice as she could manage.

        "Then you strangers haven't heard? They say he's at the Interpreter's court, eating the best of everything."

        "Uh, what does he look like?"

        "Look like? Ha-ha, do you think I have eyes that can see to the Maigathal? I don't know anything but what I've told you and that he plays chess with the Interpreter."

        The vendor turned to another customer, so Simone gave up and followed Athlaz and Abram back out of the city.

        "It'd better not be Clay," she said to them. "Just like the little scudball to lounge around a palace, feasting on the finest, while I drag myself through the mountains. Do you think it's him?"

        "I'm sorry, but probably not," said Abram. "He'll be a slave in Quintusia most likely, and that's far from here. Whoever's on the Long Island is just another Pretender. They're everywhere."

        "But this one plays chess."

        "Chess play is very common among the Pergs, Empress. Of course, I hope it's your brother. That would be very good news."

        "But miraculous, right? OK, I'll try not to get my hopes up." She walked more slowly behind them, considering that she might send Misu to investigate, but Misu was needed to scout their own path, and besides it would be very dangerous for her. Nothing to do but put one foot in front of the other and pray some more.

        For weeks they crept along on the slopes, under tree and over boulder. Misu, scouting from the air, steered them around other travelers, and Mald usually kept far ahead, using his invisibility and keen nose to further prevent their being surprised by anyone. At night--and the nights were cold in the mountains--they sought shelter under ledges and boulders, huddling in their cloaks, with perhaps a small fire; and they took turns keeping watch.

        Despite the chills and the weariness, Simone found that she loved the mountains: the awesome vistas and noble rock faces, the clear and musical streams, the ravens and the mule deer, the pines and the aspens, and the clouds that came down and rested on the peaks. She also found a stability in their fixed routine that calmed her. One day was much like another with its beautiful scenery, its afternoon shower, Snag's and Snart's fussing--long talks with Athlaz.

        Especially, she liked to talk with Athlaz, who was becoming her best friend. For the first time in her life she had the experience of liking a guy who liked her. Always before one half had been lacking. Now as they talked, or practiced swordplay, or brought up food from some Perg village, she found that effortlessly the equation had balanced. He was her opposite in many ways, so still and serene, but she liked him all the better for being what she could not be. One thing troubled her and that was that Athlaz kept a certain reserve around her, often addressing her as Empress and never discussing his feelings toward her. She was too intelligent and observant to miss the signs that he cared for her, and yet she knew something was the matter.

        One afternoon she found herself walking by Athlaz with Snag far ahead of them and Snart and Abram far behind. Athlaz was talking to her about the food buying trip they and Abram had made to a Perg village that morning.

        "Did you have a bad feeling," he asked, "about the fellow who sold us the biscuits--him with all the rings?" Simone remembered an unsmiling fellow with a roguish look and a fine ring on every finger of both hands.

        "Yes, and he asked us where we were going."

        "Well, when I took out the coins to pay him, he got a look inside our purse and--I don't know, I thought his eyes lit up just for a moment. I shouldn't carry so much money. Next time I'll leave most of it with Snag."

        "What do you think might happen?" she asked. "Would he follow us?"

        "I don't know, Empress. But I've noticed the plague doesn't seem so severe in these lands as it was farther south. Robbers here might be more willing to risk contact with strangers."

        "Yes, we've left Thalschor far behind," she said, "and the towns here in Tiras are a lot livelier. What do you think we should do?"

        Athlaz pointed to Misu flying ahead of them at a great height. "I don't think anyone could surprise us with her on the watch. I don't know what more we can do that we aren't already doing. Still, it worries me."

        Simone decided that the subject was exhausted. "Athlaz, I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

        He looked at her with a hint of warning in his eyes, but she went on. "It's that I think we like each other very much. Don't we? I don't mind saying so." Now that it came to the moment, Simone was not nearly as matter of fact as she had planned to be. Her heart was pounding and her voice a little high. "Uh, how do you feel about me, Thaz? What's on your mind?"

        Athlaz said nothing for a time. They trudged along under the weight of their newly filled packs.

        "You're my Empress," he said at last.

        "Well yes, but I mean aside from that?"

        He stopped and turned to her, looking down into her face. "There can't be any aside from that," he said quietly. "I'm the heir to a very minor Forest State, and all the Forest States combined are almost negligible compared to the great powers such as Eschor and the Silent Cities. When you marry, Simone, it'll have to be a powerful lord such as the prince of Eschor. I'd only cripple what you're trying to do for the Fold." He walked on.

        "Who said anything about marriage?" she said, following him. "We hadn't come anywhere near talking like that! And I'll tell you something I haven't told you before, this Empress thing is just hogwash. No really, I don't believe it myself. What have I got to do with some ancestress so distant that I can't have more than a tiny bit of her blood in me? And I don't believe in noble blood lines anyway. Athlaz, will you stop and look at me? I didn't ask you to marry me, I asked how you feel about me. You could at least tell me that."

        He turned to her again. "What point is there in saying it?" he asked.

        "Just so I'll know."

        "All right then." He looked into her hard, challenging eyes. "I love you, Simone. I wish you weren't Empress, but since you are, I made up my mind in Ursala to serve you my whole life. I mean, since that's all I can do."

        Simone made a disgusted sound. "Oh, that's just so corny and pathetic and medieval. Next you'll be wanting me to give you a glove so you can wear it in your helm! But my name's Gareth, not Lynette. I won't look down my nose at you, no matter what the whole Fold thinks!" She started along the path again. "And just so you'll know, I love you, Athlaz pin Ursala."

        The next half hour was the longest completely silent time the two had yet spent together. Abram caught up to them but made no comment on their quietness. The silence was finally broken by the unexpected sound of a trumpet echoing across the mountain valley.

        Athlaz paused and pointed down the slope where human figures could suddenly be seen run