“Ignorance will kill us,” said the captain.

“Yes.”

He nodded. “This is my proposal. We send scouts into the north.”

“To what end? The reeves already spy out the northern army, scout troop movements, mark which villages and towns are under threat, and report back.”

“They do their work well,” he agreed, nodding at Joss, “but they and their eagles are targets when on the ground. They cannot walk into the heart of the enemy and hope to learn their plans.”

“Any such venture is likely to end in death,” she said.

“Perhaps. But without good intelligence, and careful observation of the lay of the land and the discipline and organization of the army, we can’t hope to confront, much less defeat, a force so much larger than our own. Tohon is a scout of unsurpassed excellence, whose observations I would trust with my life. He can bring one of his own men to carry a message back to us, if necessary. If I had my way, your servant Zubaidit would go as well. We must seek every opportunity that offers itself. If anyone can assassinate the army’s commander, she can.”

Kesh gasped aloud. He hadn’t finished the wine; it spilled now, the dregs staining his tunic. Tohon grasped his wrist and tightened his grip until Kesh sank back passively. But he’d already lost the battle. A grin tugged at Bai’s lips. Her shoulders straightened, and her chin rose.

“Eiya!” said the old bitch. “You’re quick to throw my best weapon into the worst battle.”

“The battle will be upon us whether we wish it or not, holy one. The only question is, on our terms or theirs? You know she is the best choice.”

She knew it, so she refused to acknowledge him.

Bai said, “I’ll go, but on condition that Keshad is cleared of all charges against him.”

“Yes, indeed,” said the Hieros scathingly, “cleared of charges, let to go free, and you’ll hare off and join him once you’ve walked out of Olo’osson, no doubt.”

“He can remain under house arrest under my guard until Zubaidit returns, or her death is confirmed,” said the captain.

“Do you think you’re bargaining over a loaf of bread or a bolt of silk?” demanded Kesh. “I refuse—”

“Enough!” said Marshal Joss. “Shut your mouth, you self-regarding idiot! You’ve got no rights in this negotiation. If you’re fortunate, you may benefit from it, so just be quiet.”

“You’ve got no call to talk my brother that way!” cried Bai.

“You’ve come to me to set the seal on your plan?” asked the Hieros of the captain.

“You stand highest among those who sit in authority over the temples of Olo’osson,” said the captain. “You know it must be done this way.”

“ ‘A sharp blade can cut both ways,’ ” she said.

“I beg your pardon?” demanded Joss. “What has the Tale of Change to do with the matter at hand?”

“Do our weapons serve us well, or ill?” Raising both hands, she traced phrases from the tale with graceful gestures accompanied by the tinkling of her wristlets. She did not need to sing the chant, for they all knew the words by heart. In he rode, the one meant to save them, the handsome one, with his sash and his kilt, his sash and his kilt and his garland of sunbright. But the gods embrace silence. The gods turn away, they avert their eyes.