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"Yes; and that's just the difference. It is beautiful, but it's like a poisoned well with lilies growing round it. It's become a death-trap. What used to be natural has been-" He paused, then shrugged. "Made evil."

She waited for him to go on. "Oh, yes," he said at length. "I know the people in Suba are ignorant and dirty and stupid. They get ill from the climate, too, and most of them don't live as long as people here; at least, I shouldn't think they do. But they don't cheat and rob and murder one another. Do you know that Suba-I still can't help thinking of it as part of the empire-is about the one place left where people can travel in safety and don't have to go armed, and lock everything up? And you know why I've come here, too, don't you? To try and stop even more blood being spilt. We've got that much in common, you and I." He. sighed. "But you succeeded in your attempt and I haven't in mine, I'm afraid."

She was eager to speak of something else. Indeed, she had been determined to.

"U-Nasada, I want to tell you something as I haven't told to anyone else in the world."

He looked up quickly, as though already half-guessing what it was that she was going to say.

"I'm Suban! What d'you think of that? Nokomis was my mother's sister."

Then she related all that Tharrin had told her about her father's murder, her mother's flight and her own birth. He listened in silence, but she could see tears in his eyes and, remembering how he had once spoken to her of Nokomis, could feel how deeply he must be moved.

When she had finished he did not at once reply, seeming to be weighing all that she had told him and considering how to answer. At last he said, "I'll say something you may not like to hear. You're the most beautiful woman in the empire, the most admired and the most-well, prized, I suppose. A sort of princess, really. But even so, and setting aside all question of your safety, I myself believe that you'd be happier-that's to say, more fulfilled and more likely to live naturally and well-in Suba."

She gazed out the window at the gentle, scented night, the moonlit sky, the rippling Barb and the slopes of Cran-dor beyond: then round at her elegant, luxurious room.

"Do you think they'd accept me, U-Nasada, after what happened at Melvda?"

"Well, the short answer's yes, although the details might need a little working out. I don't mean that you'd live a life entirely without troubles and problems, you know."

She nodded. "I know."

Suddenly she was kneeling at his feet, her head in his lap, sobbing her heart out.

"Oh, Nasada, if only you knew how I long for peace and for an end to being afraid all the time! People as you can't trust and you wonder what's in their minds and what they're on about behind your back-"

He stroked her hair and took her hands between his own.

"Has someone been offering you marriage?"

How incredibly startling and instant his penetration was, she thought; just as it had been in Suba. It was disconcerting; yet such swift, outspoken understanding was very comforting, too. With him, talk never went in circles, nor

yet stayed in one place. That was the nature of his truth: he never wasted time making kindly noises. He was like the seeker of the hidden treasure in old Drigga's story, whose tongue, enchanted, had the power of a sharp sword.

"Yes: Eud-Ecachlon of Urtah. He said his father's dying, and I'd be High Baroness when he succeeded. I refused him."

"Do you want to tell me why?"

She hesitated, and at once he said, "You don't have to. I said 'Do you want to?' and that's all I meant."

"I want to."

So then it all came pouring out-Zen-Kurel and the daggers; their passionate exchange of promises at Melvda: her determination to forestall the whole business of the night attack, to save Zenka's life and the lives of the Ton-ildans: her ignorance of what had become of Zenka, her longing for him, her sense of loneliness and loss in the midst of Bekla's adulation. Her avoidance of accepting a lover, Kembri's false suspicion of her motives for doing so, the priest's cryptic words at the temple, the death of Tharrin, Randronoth and the money, Sednil's mission and what he had found out. She wept herself into exhaustion, ending at last, "And I don't care if Kembri kills me or Forms kills me or what they do, the whole damned lot of them-I won't, I won't run away and leave Zenka in that woman's hands. Either I'll save him or else I'll die trying."

There was another silence, and again she knew that he had entered into all she was suffering.

"I-was wrong," he said after a time, 'I see that, now- about something I said earlier." She waited. "I said I thought beautiful things were better when they came from far away, and then I said Bekla was a place where what used to be naturally beautiful had been spoiled. Some of it hasn't."

With his admiration behind her, she felt, she could attempt anything. Even if she failed, her integrity would have earned his respect-an incomparable honor.