Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part Two: The Fragile Heart

"I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of me, to fright me, if they could."
- William Shakespeare
"A Midsummer Night's Dream"

Well, this is the longest chapter in Part II so far (still can't compare with that monster of a final chappie in Part I) and I could have dragged it out for longer, but I figured that you all shouldn't have to wait any longer. Y'all are incredibly patient with my slow-ass updates as it is! Thanks for sticking with the story! Though I'm a little concerned that it might have lost some popularity over the last update ... a dramatic drop in reviews. (Thanks, BlackCatNeko999 and Del21, by the way, for writing in! Cookies and cake for you. :D) I'm a little surprised 'cause I figured everyone would have something to say about the love scene ... hope it was okay. :/

Chapter Eight: Caesar's Humiliation

Commander Asheara of the Iron Wolves was easily located – once in the city, all they had to do was find a man in the distinctive red hauberk and ask him for an audience with his chief – but the difficulty lay in convincing her that it was necessary for them to gain admission to the palace. Asheara's loyalty, once given, was nigh on unshakeable, and she was unwilling to consider allowing anyone she did not trust near Hakan, no matter how urgent the situation.

"I do not know you," she said. "I cannot vouch for your conduct or your intentions. You say you have killed the witch in Alcarnus, that you have freed the Khasim Outpost from her servants, and in so doing, saved the lives of my men. If this is true, then you have my gratitude, but you bring with you no proof of these claims."

"If we're lying," growled Baal, his patience running thin, "then how do you explain our knowledge of the names of your men: Davyd, Jarulf, and your own niece, Asiya?"

The Commander shrugged. "I do not doubt that you have met them. But how do I know that you fought with them, and not against them? Or that you did not merely claim you killed the witch to gain their trust? If I had received a report …"

"If you won't help us," Saiya interrupted, "is there someone else we could speak to?" Racking her brain, she seized upon a name. "Gamil Fahkri, maybe?"

"How do you know that name?" asked Asheara, with doubt heavy in her tone.

"Your own Captain told us about him!" Baal snapped. Saiya laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"Please," she said, "we're very concerned about our friends, and about the Emperor as well. Could you at least tell us where to find Mr. Fahkri? The lives of everyone in this city may depend on it."

Asheara's proud shoulders slumped a little, and she said, in a tone of weary resignation, "I will take you to his residence in the Diamond District. Follow me." She issued a brusque order in Kehjistani to her man-at-arms, and he scurried away.

The Diamond District, where the influential citizens of Caldeum (the diplomats, the courtiers, the lesser royalty, etc) made their home, lay along the bank of the shallow river that segregated the palace from the rest of the city. The houses there were large and elaborate, with fenced gardens and fountained courtyards. Servants in black garb rushed two and fro, carrying messages and running errands. Occasionally a group came along consisting of several large men bearing a palanquin on their shoulders.

Eventually, they came to a building surmounted by a large glass dome. Asheara rang a bell that hung by the gate, and within moments a boy appeared.

"Evde meslahetci mi?" inquired the Commander.

"Beli," answered the guard, "lakin o, yataq getmek ücün hazirlasir."

Asheara mouth dropped into an intimidating scowl. "Onu dayandirmaq lazimdir. Bu, böyük ehemiyyet kesb edir. Demir Kurtlar Asheara onu görmek isteyir ona deyin."

The boy bowed and turned to walk up the cobbled path to the house. Asheara evidently felt he was not moving swiftly enough, for she barked, "Telesin!" That word, at least, Saiya recognized from her card games with the soldiers, where it was most often utilized when one player had been deliberating for too long.

"Thank you," said Baal while they were waiting. "We appreciate your help. I think we can manage from here."

"Don't try to get rid of me, boy," replied the Commander, testily. "Your business involves the Emperor, so it is my business as well. Besides," she added, with the barest suggestion of a smile, "my presence will make you seem less like beggars at the door."

Presently the guard returned and opened the gate for them. They followed him along the pathway, which was overhung by clumps of bamboo forming a verdant tunnel, and up the sandstone steps to the pillared veranda.

"Please sit," said their young host, gesturing to a variety of chairs and benches. "My master will see you soon. I bring tea?"

"Coffee for me," said Baal.

"And me," echoed Saiya, thinking that by the end of the evening she might be very glad of the extra energy. Kormac wanted a glass of wine, Eirena plain water, and Tyrael said he was content with nothing at all. The boy departed.

They chose seats and sat in silence, looking around at the luxurious surroundings. It was clear that Fahkri was extremely wealthy; his garden was immaculate, with paths of quartz pebbles leading into exotic grottoes and circling jeweled fountains. Saiya spotted a pair of colorful birds on a branch, and a little golden creature with a surprisingly human face dangling by its tail.

No more than five minutes had passed when a side door opened and a rather ordinary man emerged. The sort of man, Saiya thought, that you wouldn't look at twice if you saw him in the street. Average height, average build, just handsome enough to be attractive without drawing undue attention. He was clean-shaven, his salt-and-pepper hair cut short, and he was dressed very simply in cotton pants and an embroidered tunic with a V neck.

"Good evening, my friends," he said. It was an ordinary voice, too: mellow and pleasant to listen to, slightly accented. No, there was nothing remarkable whatsoever about Gamil Fakhri – and yet Saiya could see instantly how he might inspire confidence in a man like Captain Davyd. He was the common folk personified, capable of blending into any crowd, easy to relate to. He did not flaunt his wealth or social status. He was humble.

"Good evening, agam Fakhri," replied Asheara, nodding courteously without getting up. "I am sorry to disturb you at this hour."

Fahkri waved off her apology and sat down himself, picking a chair that that allowed him to face the entire group without singling out any one person.

"I am at your disposal," said he. "Pray inform me what I may do to assist you. But first, may I ask to whom I have the honor of speaking?"

"My name is Baal," said the Hunter without any preamble. Asheara gave him a hostile look, but Fahkri didn't even blink. Clearly the unusual name did not concern him.

"My companions are Saiya, Kormac, Eirena, and Tyrael," Baal continued, gesturing to each of them in turn. To Asheara, he added, "Sorry about the minor deception. We thought it would be better for our mission if our real names were kept a secret."

"I can see why," muttered the Commander. "Whatever do you mean by calling yourself after such a heinous being? It's disgraceful."

"It's a reminder," said Baal, "of my purpose in life. Nothing more."

"In any case," interjected Fahkri, "pleased to meet you all though I am, I sense that your presence here, at this hour, is indicative of a serious matter. Something to do with His Imperial Majesty, am I correct?"

"Very astute," Baal said. "Perhaps I should give you a little background on our reason for being in this land." In a few succinct sentences, he laid out the story of the demonic plague that had terrorized New Tristram, the involvement of Maghda and her cult, the defeat of King Leoric and the Butcher demon, and the subsequent decision to follow Maghda to Kehjistan, concluding with a description of how the witch had been killed, and how, upon returning victorious, they had discovered their comrades to be missing.

As he finished, they were interrupted briefly by the young gate-guard, who returned shuffling under the weight of a large tray of refreshments. When the boy had dispersed the drinks and vanished again, Fakhri said, "I see your dilemma, my friends. You have heard, no doubt, that the palace is currently closed, and the Emperor refuses to allow any of his subjects to enter. I myself have not been at the court since my son was killed in a riot nearly a month ago."

"Gabriel is dead?" Asheara sounded shocked and distressed. "I am so sorry, agam. Please accept my deepest condolences. His loss is a tragedy for the entire nation."

"Thank you, Komandir," said Fahkri. "It has been a terrible blow to my wife and I. Gabe was our only child, and I had very high hopes for his future. The worst part is that his murderer cannot even be brought to justice, because no one knows who it was. But you must forgive my foolishness, my friends. You did not come here tonight to hear of my troubles, but to discuss your own."

Something about what Fahkri had said struck a chord in Saiya's memory. "Hang on!" she blurted out, cutting off a very surprised Baal, who had just begun to speak. "I hope it isn't rude to ask this, but did your son have a friend named Leah when he was younger?"

A look of cautious amazement passed over the politician's face. "I believe I remember a girl by that name," he said. "A pretty little thing, small and quick, with brown hair?"

"That's her," Saiya confirmed. "She tried to come and see your son when we first arrived in Caldeum, and she was very upset to learn that he'd been killed."

"Gods," said Fahkri, smoothing his hair with an elegant hand. "How long it's been! She must have been only twelve or thirteen when last I saw her. She'd be in her early twenties now, wouldn't she? You know, there was a time when my wife and I considered adopting her, but the woman who was taking care of her was sick of mind and very paranoid as a result of it. Leah didn't want to leave her. But then her uncle, as I understand it, came to collect her, and that was the last we saw of her. But you say she's here, with you, in Caldeum? I should love to see her again."

Saiya and Baal exchanged an awkward glance. "Well, that might be difficult, Mister Fahkri," said the monk. "You see, Leah is one of our missing friends."

Things happened very quickly after that. Fakhri at once pledged his assistance with the matter, though he suggested that it should be handled with delicacy on account of the precarious stability of Caldeum's current politics. It was too late, he said, for them to have any chance of seeing the Emperor that day, but at his insistence, they agreed to spend the night at his home, and present themselves at court the following day around noon, when the banquet lunch was in full swing.

Respectable credentials were a necessity, and it was arranged that Saiya and Eirena, who bore a superficial resemblance, would be disguised as two Daughters of Ytar (a holy convent in Ivgorod), and the men would be play the part of their bodyguards. Fahkri's general idea was that since Caesar, Ghor, and Leah's whereabouts were not yet known, it would be safer to enter the palace under false pretenses and scout out the situation. A gift for the Emperor from foreign dignitaries would be only proper, given the circumstances, and he just so happened to have the very thing: a small mechanical soldier, formerly belonging to Gabriel, that, when wound up, marched steadfastly forward until it either its path was blocked or the clockwork ran dry. Saiya protested that he should not part with a precious relic of his son's childhood for their sakes, but Fahkri grandly replied that the lives of their friends far outweighed the worth of a mere toy which would only sit and gather dust.

In the end, the only people who were unhappy with the plan were Baal, who would have preferred to act immediately, and Asheara, who was still unsure if any action should be taken at all. It was quite apparent that the Commander viewed their scheme as borderline treasonous, and was highly uncomfortable with her complicity in it. Even their firm reassurance that they meant no harm, either to the Emperor or to the citizens of Caldeum, had little effect, and Saiya suspected that only Fahkri's acceptance of them prevented her from giving them up to the Imperial Guard.

Once the plan was settled, Fahkri bid them goodnight and retired to his chambers, and a servant girl led them to their own quarters. As they walked down a passageway lined with wonderfully woven tapestries, Baal leaned down and murmured in Saiya's ear, "Nice work back there. I wasn't sure he was going to help us until you mentioned Leah."

Saiya frowned, resenting the implication that she had deliberately manipulated the politician, but she knew that now was not the moment to protest. She settled for ignoring him until they parted company at their individual bedrooms. Then she did relent, at least enough to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Her room was small, but nonetheless lavishly furnished. It was on the second floor, and a window seat allowed her to overlook a charming section of the garden. A vanity with a mirror and a cushioned stool occupied one corner, a potted palm waved peacefully from another, and most of the right-hand wall was taken up by a four-poster bed with a canopy of lemon-colored gauze. The servants had thoughtfully left a pitcher of ice water and a glass, for the night was warm, as well as a loose silken gown which she supposed was meant to be worn while she was sleeping.

The bed itself, with its thick mattress and soft blankets, was absurdly comfortable – too comfortable, in fact, for someone who was used to sleeping on a narrow pallet under the stars. Saiya rolled from one side to the other, finding each position better than the last, and unable to decide how she wanted to sleep.

Just as she was drifting off, a tapping at the window roused her. Climbing out of bed, she went to investigate and found Gawahir hopping back and forth with a rolled-up piece of paper gripped in his beak. She undid the catch and let him in.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

The raven deposited his burden in her lap and turned his back, flipping his tail in an unmistakably impudent manner. Saiya unrolled the note and held it up. There was just enough moonlight to read by.

Saiya, it said, in Baal's surprisingly beautiful handwriting, are you angry with me? - B

There was a quill pen on the vanity. Taking it in hand, she scribbled a return message. Penmanship had never been her strong suit; her letters were small, rounded, and cramped close together, her sentences tending to droop on the page, but at least it was legible.

A little bit, she wrote. Did you have to make it sound like I brought Leah up on purpose to get Fahkri to agree to help us? That's so cold, it's not at all what I was thinking. - S

"Here, Gawahir," she said, rolling the paper back up and presenting it to the bird. "Take this back to Baal, please."

It was only a few minutes before he returned. Saiya felt a curious little rush of excitement as she unfurled the note. It was almost, she thought, as if she was princess trapped in a tower, communicating with her lover on the outside about her plans for escape. She laughed aloud at her own foolish fancy.

Baal's script read: I thought it was clever of you, but I can see why you're upset. Sorry. Anything I can do to make it up to you? - B

"Sweet, silly boy," she murmured, and reached for the pen again.

Don't worry about it, I've already forgiven you. It was a stupid thing to be offended about. I love you. - S

This time, Gawahir was gone for longer, and Saiya was just beginning to contemplate closing the window and returning to bed when he fluttered up to the sill, weighed down by a woody sprig, upon which sprouted several delicate pink blossoms with ruffled petals and a sweet scent. With a growing conviction that she was dreaming, Saiya opened the letter.

Are you sure? I could climb the lattice to your windowsill and slip into your room to woo you with tender words and passionate kisses. - B

She was fairly sure he was joking, but the idea of him paying a late night visit to her quarters with lustful intent was enough to cause her heart to quicken. Hastily she wrote, in the diminishing space at the bottom of the paper:

Tempting, but no. We wouldn't want to disturb our kind host. I will accept your flower, though. What is it? It smells lovely. See you tomorrow. - S

Gawahir gave her a long-suffering look as she handed him the letter. If he had been human, she thought, he would have been rolling his eyes. As it was, he contented himself with nipping her viciously on the finger as he took the paper.

Baal's final note arrived promptly. It read simply:

The flower is hibiscus. It makes a refreshing tea, and the scent is supposed to calm the nerves. Sleep well, nuur il-'en, and dream of me. - B

That, Saiya thought as she tucked the page of writing against her breast and placed the hibiscus sprig by her bedside, would not be difficult.

She was wakened in the morning by a gentle tap on the door. Answering it, she found the lady of the house and a maid, armed with an assortment of clothes, jewelry, and cosmetic paints. Baffled, Saiya let them in without saying a word.

"My dear," said Madam Fahkri, "I hope you will pardon the intrusion. My husband told me all about your plan, and I promised to do what I could to help him. If you are to be a convincing Daughter of Ytar, you must look the part. You are actually from Ivgorod, are you not?"

"Y-yes, that's right," stammered Saiya.

"Well, then, it should be easy!" exclaimed her hostess with a bright laugh. "Your hair is cut rather too short, but we can amend that by covering it up with a veil, which is proper in any case. Now, if you'll just take off your nightgown, we can begin."

What followed was a highly uncomfortable half-hour, during which Saiya was dressed up like a doll in at least five different outfits before one was settled on, primped, painted, perfumed, and generally fussed over. Thankfully, Madam Fahkri – a willowy woman of indeterminate age and inconspicuous beauty – was tactful and efficient enough to negate the embarrassment of the operation. She chattered happily the entire time about nothing in particular, and made several generous comments on Saiya's appearance without noting any of her flaws.

When the young monk was at long last pushed in front of a mirror so she could examine the final result, she barely recognized herself. Her lanky, unfeminine form was transformed by a white gown that miraculously gifted her with bust and hips, while restraining her waist to a dainty circle. White slippers hid the healing scars on her feet, and white gloves concealed her battle-worn hands.

But the most astonishing change of all was in her face. With subtle touches of a brush, Madam Fahkri had brought to life a pure girl of statuesque beauty, each feature fully defined, yet knowing its place within the whole of her countenance. Silver earrings, cleverly designed to clip on to her unpierced lobes, tinkled prettily, and a fine silver necklace drew attention to the elegant curve of her neck. For the first time in her entire life, Saiya felt truly gorgeous … but at the same time, strangely indifferent, as though she were temporarily inhabiting someone else's body.

She recalled a fairy story that Jijamae used to tell her, of a slave girl who dreamed of attending a dance, but who had no attire fit to wear. In her most despairing moment, a spirit appeared to her and used magic to turn her skirt of rags into the finest ball gown, but also warned her that at dawn of the next day, the spell would be broken and her beautiful dress would return to its former state.

That's what will happen to me, she thought. I'm stunning now, but tomorrow this will all be a distant dream, and I'll be plain old Saiya again.

A sudden, irrational fear struck her like a cold knife in the gut. Suppose that once Baal saw her in this fancy get-up, he was no longer satisfied with her ordinary, every-day self? Suppose he realized that she was not nearly as attractive as he had thought, and wanted nothing more to do with her? After all, a poor man, upon being offered unlimited wealth, would hardly choose to go on being poor, would he? The thought made her feel nauseous.

"Is everything all right, my dear?" asked Madam Fahkri, anxiously. "If you are not satisfied, we can try another look."

"Oh gods, no!" Saiya cried impulsively. Inwardly wincing at how rude and ungrateful that sounded, she tried awkwardly to correct her verbal mistake. "I - I mean, no, thank you, it's perfect. Really. I'm just unused to dressing like this. I've never-"

"Say no more," said the lady. "I quite understand." Leaning close, she murmured, "It can be quite overwhelming, can't it, my dear? When Gamil married me, I was a rural girl from a middle class family who had never been to the city before. Imagine my shock upon seeing where I was to live! It was more than a month before I worked up the courage to leave the house. I often miss the simple life of the countryside."

Saiya smiled gratefully at her, but the sick feeling still lingered as she went down to breakfast. It intensified when she met Baal out in the hall, and his eyes swept over her once without recognition, before snapping back to fix on her face with a sort of incredulous awe.

"Saiya?" he gasped. "Is it really you? I would never have known you."

"Yes, I know," she muttered sourly. "I'm beautiful, right?"

The Hunter frowned. "Certainly. But all the same, I think I prefer your normal look, to be honest. Right now you seem like a wild rose that someone has cut and trimmed and put in a vase. No offense to you, Madam Fahkri. She'll blend in perfectly at the palace."

"Oh, I quite agree with you, sir," said the lady. "No make-up on earth can compete with natural beauty."

At that moment, a second door opened and Eirena stepped cautiously out to join them. She, too, had obviously received treatment from Madam Fahkri, but the result, in Saiya's opinion, was even more stunning. A lot of work had been put into making Saiya court-worthy, but the enchantress looked as though she'd been born for it.

"Good morning," she said, beaming her perpetual cheery smile. "Saiya, you look amazing! Günaydin, Baal."

"Günaydin, xanim," he replied courteously. "Sizin gözellik sehrli edir."

Eirena giggled and curtseyed, and Saiya worked hard to stifle the jealousy that pricked at her like a poisoned thorn. It was an unfortunate trait of her personality that had lain dormant until she met Baal, but it seemed that she couldn't watch him interact with any woman (except perhaps Ghor) without getting that bitter taste in her mouth. It was ugly, instinctive, and highly annoying, especially as she truly wanted him to form strong bonds with the rest of their group, female and male alike.

"Your other friends have already gone down to breakfast, I believe," remarked Madam Fahkri. "If you will permit me to lead the way, I will show you to the dining room."

Saiya was first through the door (after their host) and Kormac's gaze fell full upon her as he glanced up from his plate. Delight flared in his eyes, and he began to exclaim, "Schwesterchen, you look-"

But Saiya never found out how she looked, because Eirena stepped out next to her, and the remainder of the Templar's sentence faltered and died. The fork halted halfway to his mouth, his jaw dropped a little, and he was dangerously close to losing the bite of sausage that he had just taken. Hastily, he swallowed. Saiya, taking her place, heard him murmur dazedly in his native tongue: "Ach, meine Teuerste, trügen mich meine Augen?"

So that's how it is, she thought, and marveled that she had not seen it before. A quick sideways look at Eirena showed that she was wholly oblivious of the pained devotion etched into every line of Kormac's face.

He won't make the first move, Saiya mused, surreptitiously studying her friend. He's the sort who will sit quietly in the corner, pining away, while the woman he loves goes and marries some other guy, having never realized that he cares for her. A sudden determination filled her to do everything she could to bring the pair together. Kormac had always been very supportive of her relationship with Baal, after all – it was only fair that she should repay the debt by encouraging Eirena to notice him.

"What's the matter?" asked Baal, who was seated opposite her. "Late night?" He winked suggestively at her.

She rolled her eyes. "You know it wasn't."

There were only seven people at the breakfast table, but the amount of food was more suited to a small army. Saiya loaded up her empty plate with a variety of dishes, some of which she was familiar with, and some whose contents she could only begin to guess at. There were spicy sausages, eggs scrambled with vegetables, bowls of fresh fruit, sliced cucumbers and dill yoghurt, olives, crumbly cheese, toasted bread with camel butter and fig jam, and the dessert cakes Saiya had eaten at the café, which Eirena informed her were called baklava. To drink was a choice of tea, coffee, and several different kinds of juices. By the end of the meal, the young monk felt refreshed and alert, ready for anything.

Before they left, Fahkri (who was personally accompanying them to the palace) gave them some last-minute coaching. "Remember," he said to Saiya and Eirena, "as Daughters of Ytar, your devotion to absolute purity prevents you from speaking or even looking at a man, except the few that have been cleansed for your service by the Holy Rite. I think this is for the best; it will prevent any possibility of a slip-up on your part, and the Emperor will take it as a compliment. He's a proud child, and hates to be patronized. Implying that you view him as a man will preen his ego.

"Now, for you three-" This was to the males of the group. "-it's important that you remain visually subservient to the ladies at all times, but also stay on your guard. The guards may ask you to give up your weapons at the gate. I will deal with them. I happen to know that part of your vows include the promise to be armed wherever you go, to better deal with threats to your mistresses. Diplomatically, they cannot force you to break your oaths, and I'm counting on the lure of a foreign gift to entice Hakan to permit you entrance, even with your weapons – understanding, of course, that they are not to be used except in the most dire of circumstances, and not against His Imperial Majesty."

"You think it will come to a fight?" said Baal.

Fahkri's expression gave nothing away. "If I were you," he replied, "I'd be prepared for anything.

Though Fahkri's house was close to the bridge leading into the Imperial Palace, it took a while before they were actually standing in front of the massive jade-and-gold gates. This was because another riot had broken out shortly after dawn, and the soldiers were still struggling to contain the scene. Several people had died, a residence on the riverbank had been burned to the ground, and the rioters had nearly stormed the palace itself. Consequently, security was extra tight. The Iron Wolves were patrolling the streets in numbers, disbanding any group of commoners numbering more than three and arresting anyone who showed signs of getting belligerent. Saiya spotted Asheara standing with a group of her peers by the palace gate. The Commander gave them a distrustful glare, but did not interfere as they approached.

Fahkri spoke to the guard at length in Kehjistani, explaining the situation and exerting all his powers of charm and persuasion. Eventually a messenger was dispatched to ask permission for them to enter. After a ridiculously long wait, the man returned with a favorable answer, and they were escorted inside by a "honor guard" of eight well-armed soldiers.

The Imperial Palace was huge: a sprawling complex of buildings, gardens, walls, streets, and towers. They passed through three more check-points on their way to the Fair-Weather Court, where the Emperor was hosting a gala. As they climbed the stairs towards the great circular platform, supported by pillars, music and laughter spilled down from above. A trumpet blast announced their arrival, and a herald – instructed by Fahkri – began to shout out their identities for the court to hear. Baal leaned close to murmur the translation into Saiya's ear.

"The Imperial Grand Advisor of the Left - what a title - Gamil Fahkri. Sascha and Aerna, Holy Daughters of Ytar and Royal Emissaries of the Kingdom of Ivgorod. That's you. Oh, and of course, their bodyguards. I'm jealous. I wanted a long title too."

Saiya, guessing that his lighthearted quips were meant to put her at ease, gave him a discreet half-smile when she thought no one was looking. Then Fahkri was motioning for her and Eirena to enter the court, and all conscious thoughts of Baal were swept away in a flood of colors and smells and sounds. There were so many people present, and they were all staring at her, and was she imagining it, or was that suspicion in their eyes? They weren't taken in – they knew she was a fraud – no one could ever mistake her for someone beautiful and important. She didn't belong here, surrounded by these painted statues with polite faces and mocking eyes.

A soft nudge at her elbow; that was Eirena, urging her forward. Miraculously, she jolted into motion, somehow managing not to trip on her trailing skirts. The crowd parted before her, leaving the path to the Emperor's throne clear.

Glancing up, Saiya found her gaze locked on the small figure seated stiffly upon a much-too-large chair on a dais at the center of the court. Part of the stiffness, she thought, was due to his outfit. Heavy red robes, with a high collar that held his chin up, and an elaborate silver headdress with two downward-curling horns that spread out wider than his shoulders. Beneath that was a round face, white with red around the eyes. He looked far younger than Saiya had expected, and alarmingly sweet and vulnerable.

"Don't look!" hissed Eirena. Remembering the conditions of her alias, Saiya jerked her eyes away. Eirena was beginning to kneel, and the young monk followed suit with relief, sinking down to the floor as her shaking knees gave way. Fahkri began to speak, addressing the Emperor. The box containing their gift was handed to a soldier, who in turn passed it to a wizened woman in a peaked hat, who waved her hands over it, mumbling.

"The court sorceress," whispered Eirena. "She's checking it magically to make sure it's not poison or an explosive, or something like that."

At last the box was placed upon Hakan's lap. The boy opened it and gave an eager exclamation, his voice high and clear.

"Oh, good," said Eirena. "He likes it! Ah. He's asking us to rise."

Damn! thought Saiya. I was comfortable down here. She wobbled a little in standing up, though thankfully her full dress hid any evidence of her weakness.

Hearing a thread of Khanduran among the unintelligible Kehjistani, Saiya realized that Fahkri was saying something to her. She remembered just in time not to look directly at him, and focused on his rather handsomely-clad feet instead.

"In gratitude for your generous gift, His Imperial Majesty bids you stay and enjoy the festivities," said the advisor. Saiya could not tell from his tone whether he was pleased by the outcome of the situation or not. She curtseyed once again in the direction of the dais and turned to look for Baal. He was standing right behind her.

"What do I do now?" she mumbled.

"We mingle," he replied. "At least, some of us do. You have an excuse to sit over by that palm tree and do nothing, if you so desire."

"I think that would be good," she said decisively. "I feel very strange."

He took her arm. "Come on, then."

Once she was seated, the rush of dizziness and panic began to subside, allowing her to think clearly again. It returned full-force, however, when Baal moved to walk away.

"Don't leave me!" she gasped, seizing his sleeve in a sweaty grip.

"Relax, nuur il'-en," he replied. "I'm just going to get you some water."

The next hour would always remain a blur in Saiya's memory. People approached her and asked questions, which Baal translated for her and she somehow answered. Most of the queries were about Ivgorod, and the holy order to which she supposedly belonged; her answers were a patchwork of fact and fiction, sewn together by her recollections of temple life and dyed by wild suppositions of exactly what being a Daughter of Ytar entailed.

During a quiet moment, when the flock of admirers around her had dispersed, Tyrael approached, standing head-and-shoulders above the rest of the crowd, and handed Saiya a folded piece of parchment. Opening it, she found the following missive:

Making some progress, I think, towards finding your friends. Outlook grim. Have been speaking with a noble lady who informs me that H.I.M. has three new 'pets'. Will endeavor to arrange for them to be displayed for the court. The rest is up to you. - F.

"It's from Fahkri," she said, showing it to Baal. "H.I.M. would be 'His Imperial Majesty', I imagine. I don't like the sound of 'pets', though. You don't think-"

"If they're not here," said Baal, "I don't know where they are. Tyrael, can you get Eirena and Kormac over here, please? I'd like for us all to be in one place if things go south and we have to make a quick exit."

"I don't like this," Saiya muttered after Tyrael had gone. "All this pretense. I wish we could have just walked up to the Emperor as ourselves and asked him where our friends were."

The Hunter snorted. "Do you really think we would have made it farther than the front gate? No, this was the right way to do it. I'm sorry it's so uncomfortable for you, though. I was afraid you were going to faint when you greeted Hakan."

"I don't know what came over me," she said. "It was like suddenly every person in the crowd could see me naked. I know that's silly, since I'm way overdressed, but that's how it felt."

"I think I understand," said Baal. "That's kind of how I felt when I went before the Council of Master Hunters to get my first mission. I'd been psyching myself up for it all day, but as soon as I set foot in that candlelit chamber my bones turned to rubber and I just wanted to turn invisible and drop dead."

A flash of white caught Saiya's eye, and she looked up to see Eirena weaving her way between the little knots of courtiers dotting the plaza. A short, stout man whose bald pate glistened in the sunlight trotted at her heels like a puppy. Eventually Kormac turned and said something that halted him in his tracks, but he stood gazing after the enchantress with a forlorn expression on his face.

"Whew!" she exclaimed, dropping down next to Saiya and moving her feet in circles as if her ankles hurt. "I had no idea that simply talking to people could be so exhausting! I've turned down three dinner invitations, declined an offer of a herd of camels, and struggled not to burst out laughing during the most comical marriage proposal I will probably ever receive."

"Have you learned anything useful?" Baal inquired short-temperedly.

Eirena shook her head. "No, but I know a place we can stay if we should ever find ourselves in Ejdeha."

"Well, that's just marvelous, but-"

"Hush!" said Tyrael. "I see them."

As one, they turned to follow the line of his finger. Saiya uttered a little gasping cry of horror, for Leah and Ghor were being led out in chains. Both women looked malnourished and filthy, as if they had been stuck in a cage and forgotten about over the last few weeks.

The imperial herald's voice lifted above the crowd. Baal scowled deeply as he translated the man's words.

"Look well, lords and ladies of the court. This is what happens to those who betray the Divine Emperor, Hakan the Second. These rats were caught sneaking through the sewers and trying to infiltrate the palace, to murder His Imperial Majesty. What should their punishment be?"

The people shouted out as one, "Kafesli kus! Kafesli kus!"

"Oh, god," Kormac groaned. "Are they going to kill them?"

"No," said Eirena. "Kafesli kus means 'caged bird'. They'll be kept here as prisoners, to be paraded out and made an example of at every opportunity. It's very clever of Hakan if his purpose is to intimidate people, because if he had them executed that would be an end of it and people would forget soon enough, but by keeping them alive, he can constantly remind everyone what happens when he is disobeyed."

"Where's Caesar?" Saiya exclaimed. "He's not with the others!"

"Maybe he escaped," Kormac suggested hopefully.

"No," said Baal, "he didn't." There was an odd quality in his tone that Saiya couldn't quite identify. It was almost, she thought, like pity – but that would be ludicrous.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "What's happened to him?"

Rather than answering, Baal just jerked his chin in the direction of Leah and Ghor. It was then that Saiya saw a figure behind them, struggling, fighting desperately not to be dragged forward into the light. A lean, lithe figure whose black hair hung in tangled clumps around his face: a face as pale as death, with storm-cloud eyes burning with rage and shame.

The herald spoke, and the crowd roared with laughter. Caesar flinched as if he had been struck.

"What did he say?" Saiya asked Baal, who was now shifting in his seat, looking very uneasy. Failing to get an answer from him, she turned to the enchantress.

"Eirena, what did he say?"

"He said, 'For the pleasure and entertainment of the court, may I present a rare specimen: the magnificent walking, talking human … donkey?'" She shook her head in bewilderment. "I must have heard that wrong. No, wait – he said it again. But … that doesn't make any sense."

"On the contrary," said Saiya, turning a withering gaze on the Hunter. "I hope you're satisfied, Baal. You wanted people to laugh at him and now they are."

His expression was bleak as he surveyed the scene. One of the soldiers had clipped a length of chain to a collar on Caesar's neck and was dragging him around the area, executing sharp changes of direction to throw him off balance. The crowd chanted, "Homaar! Homaar! Homaar!" Ghor watched the cruel spectacle with her body held rigidly stiff, refusing to show any emotion, but Leah openly wept. Fahkri, in the front row of onlookers, looked utterly horrified.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Baal muttered, glowering at Caesar. "The mage I know would have blasted them away with his ice magic by now. And doesn't he realize that by struggling and digging his heels in, he's doing exactly what they want him to do? If he just gave up and followed meekly along behind, there'd be nothing to laugh about."

"Yes, because it's so funny," Saiya snarled, fed up with his insensitivity. "I bet you're trying not to crack up right now!"

"I'm not, actually," he replied. "Even if it is the mage. You're right, I did want people to laugh at him – I thought it would do his ego some good to get knocked down a peg or two – but this is too much. I like a prank when it's all in good fun, but this is just torture thinly disguised as fun. So no, I don't find it amusing in the slightest. In fact, I think it's sick."

The young monk was taken aback, but relieved all the same to know that he had some personal limits when it came to enjoying Caesar's misfortune. Softening her voice a little, she said, "I'm glad to hear it," adding, "I think the reason that he hasn't killed them all by now is that he's physically incapable at the moment. There's a drug of some sort produced by Maghda's butterflies that prevents people from accessing their spiritual or magical energies. She used it on me to prevent me from escaping when I was help captive in Alcarnus."

Baal nodded, considering. "Sounds like a reasonable assumption. If that's true, it's conclusive evidence that Belial has infiltrated the Emperor's court. But to what extent? The boy himself may be involved, or he may just be being manipulated by his advisors like a puppet on strings. We'll have to tread carefully."

"I think the time for caution has passed!" Saiya argued. "We came here to rescue our friends, so let's do it!"

"I agree," said Kormac. "We will have no better chance."

"Right," said Baal, "and how exactly do you propose that we escape from here, with a mage who can't use magic and a sangoma who presumably can't summon anything terrifying, and the entire Imperial Army on our heels?"

There was a long moment of silence, and then Saiya snapped her fingers. "The sewers!" she exclaimed. "If Leah could use them to get into the palace, then we can use them to get out."

"It's an idea," admitted the Hunter, reluctantly.

"I say we go for it," grunted Kormac.

"Count me in," Eirena chirped, while Tyrael nodded in agreement.

"Then here's the plan. Fortunately, the mage is providing ample distraction, so we should be able to take them by surprise. Eirena, we'll count on you to cast some sort of spell – put them to sleep, or paralyze them, something like that … it only needs to last for a few seconds. Kormac and Tyrael can tackle the guards and get the keys to free them-" He gestured to the three captives. "-and Saiya and I will provide cover."

They advanced in a diamond formation, with Saiya in the lead, Baal in the rear, Kormac and Tyrael on either side, and Eirena stashed safely in the center where she could focus on supportive magic without fear of being interrupted. As they drew closer, Caesar looked up and met Saiya's eyes. The intensity of the loathing she saw there shocked her, and she nearly stopped in her tracks before she realized that he didn't recognize her.

The guard holding Caesar's leash was not yet aware of the threat. Saiya slipped on her brass knuckles, which she had managed to conceal under the skirts of her dress, tied to her calf. As the guard turned towards her, she smashed her fist into his nose with full force, feeling the cartilage give way. He staggered and fell in a geyser of blood. People began to back away, screaming.

By the time the other soldiers reached for their weapons, Baal had already slain the two guarding Leah and Ghor with well-placed arrows. Saiya stepped over the lifeless form of the man she'd hit and blocked the path of another pair coming in from the side. Her long and cumbersome dress prevented her from kicking, but her fists were more than sufficient for the task at hand. Blocking an incipient sword attack with the left set of knuckles, she struck her opponent in the stomach to double him over and knocked him unconscious with a swift uppercut, immediately closing on the other man and snapping his neck.

Chancing a quick peek behind her, the young monk saw that Tyrael had already freed Leah, who had picked up a short sword and joined the fray. The angel was in the process of unlocking Ghor's manacles, while Kormac was searching frantically through a ring of keys.

"None of these is the right one!" he cried.

"Try again," Caesar said through gritted teeth. "One of them has to work."

"Eirena! That spell?" shouted Baal.

"Working on it!"

"Damn it, Kormac, would you hurry the hell up? They're calling for more guards."

"I tell you, Brother, these are not the right keys!"

"Saiya, behind you!"

Heeding Tyrael's warning, the monk spun and ducked, sweeping the legs from underneath the soldier who had tried to sneak up on her. Seizing his spear haft, she cracked him on the temple with the butt, and he went limp.

Seconds later, she physically felt the weight of Eirena's magic settle over the area like a net of gold, binding soldiers and nobility alike in its gossamer threads. A sweet scent filled the air, accompanied by a low hum that sang in Saiya's bones. Everything was momentarily held in place: birds winging through the air, an arrow in mid-flight, the breath entering the lungs of everyone assembled except for their small group.

"We have to go!" Eirena gasped in a strained voice. "I can't keep this up for long."

"Kormac?" Baal inquired tersely. The Templar shook his head.

"No good. Those chains aren't coming off."

"Just leave me and go," Caesar hissed. "I won't let you be killed or captured on my account. Go!"

"Don't be more of an idiot than you can help," snapped the Hunter. "We didn't go to all the effort of coming here just to abandon someone, so start running before I break your legs and drag you out of here by that lovely collar you're wearing."

The wizard's glower was fierce enough to start a forest fire, but before he could open his mouth to argue, Baal grabbed him by the shoulders and propelled him bodily forward. He stumbled a few paces and barely managed to right himself before he sprawled flat on his face. Saiya sprang forward to assist him.

"Are you okay?" she asked under her breath.

He wouldn't look at her. "Fine."

In the background, she heard Baal saying, "We need to get to the sewers,", and Leah's response: "Follow me."

"Wait a second!" exclaimed Eirena. "What about Fahkri? We can't just leave him here to take the blame for us!"

"Shit," Baal muttered. From his tone, Saiya could tell that he had forgotten about the advisor.

"Did you say Fahkri?" demanded Leah. "As in Gabe's father?"

"He helped us get in here," Saiya explained distractedly. Her eyes were flickering across the crowd, trying to locate their friend. She finally spotted him, sandwiched between two soldiers who were gripping him by the arms in a less-than-friendly manner.

"Damn! They got him already," she groaned.

Baal started forward, but his way was barred unexpectedly by Tyrael's muscular arm.

"I know it's hard," the angel said, "but it's better to leave him, truly. By taking him with us, we will only condemn him in the Emperor's eyes. If he stays, he can claim he knew nothing of the plot."

The Hunter swore vigorously, but the logic of this statement could not be denied. Even then he might have tried, if just to satisfy his conscience, but they were hastened into leaving by Eirena, who gasped, "Sorry, I can't-" and slumped to the ground, releasing the binding spell. The world stuttered back into movement. Kormac unhesitatingly scooped up the weakened enchantress, and the whole group broke into a sprint, following Leah down the stairs from the Fair-Weather Court, with a dozen guards on their heels.

* Asheara's conversation with the guard is as follows:

Asheara: "Is the Advisor at home?"

Guard: "Yes, but he is preparing to go to bed."

Asheara: "You will have to interrupt him. It is a matter of great importance. Tell him Asheara of the Iron Wolves wants to see him. Hurry up!"

* Agam is an honorific meaning, 'my lord'.

* As you all might remember from before, Günaydin is 'good morning' and xanim is an honorific for a woman, similar to 'mistress' or 'my lady'. The rest of Baal's line is: "Your beauty is enchanting."

* Kormac said: "Oh, my treasure, are my eyes deceived?"