Elmo came hustling up. How you doing, buddy? I asked. I had not seen him in days.

She wants you.

I said something like Glug. Real intelligent.

I know what you mean. Enough is enough. But what can you do? Get yourself a horse.

A horse? Why? Where?

Just carrying a message, Croaker. Dont ask me.... Speak of the devil.

A young trooper, wearing the Howlers colors, appeared over the edge of the rear of the pyramid. He led a string of horses. Elmo trotted over. After a brief exchange, he beckoned me. Reluctantly, I joined him. Take your pick, Croaker.

I selected a chestnut mare with good lines and apparent docility, swung aboard. It felt good to be in the saddle. It had been a while. Wish me luck, Elmo. I wanted to sound flip. It came out squeaky.

You got it. And as I started away, Teach you to write those silly stories.

Let up, eh? As I went forward I did wonder, for a moment, how much art does effect life. Could I have brought this on myself?

The Lady did not look back as I approached. She did make a small gesture. The horseman on her right edged away, leaving me room. I took the hint, halted, concentrated on the panorama instead of looking at her. I sensed her amusement.

The situation had worsened in the minutes I had been away. Rebel soldiers had attained several footholds on the second tier. On the first our formations had been shattered. The Howler had relented and was letting his men help those below scramble up the retaining wall. Whispers troops, on the third level, were using bows for the first time.

The assault ramps were almost up to the nearest ditch. The great towers had halted. Over half were out of action. The remainder had been manned, but were so far away the bowmen there were doing no damage. Thank heaven for small favors.

The Taken on the first level were using their powers, but were in so much danger they had little chance to wield them effectively.

The Lady said, I wanted you to see this, Annalist.

Eh? Another sparkling gem from the Company wit.

What is about to transpire. So that it is properly recorded in at least one place.

I snuck a glance at her. She wore a teasing little smile. I shifted my attention to the fighting. What she did to me, just sitting there, amidst the fury of the end of the world, was more frightening than the prospect of a death in battle. I am too old to boil like a horny fifteen year old.

The Lady snapped her fingers.

The rider on her left raised the silver horn, cleared the gauze from her face so she could bring the instrument to her lips. Feather! My gaze flicked to the Lady. She winked.