had in common was a long tradition of fighting their neighbors when thoseneighbors were weak and fighting among themselves when their neighbors werestrong. It wasn’t that the Unkerlanters didn’t fight; they did. Zuwayza wouldnot have been free but for the Unkerlanters’ Twinkings War, when both Swemmeland his brother, Kyot, claimed to be the elder, and so deserving of the throne.But Unkerlanters did not fight for the sport of it, as both Zuwayzin andAlgarvians were wont to do.

“Come on, your Excellency,” Muhassin said.“The encampment is over that rise there.” He pointed and then booted his camelback into motion. The beast’s complaints at having to work once more sounded asif it had been given over to the king of Jelgava’s torturers. Hajjaj also gothis camel going again. It too sounded martyred. He had little sympathy for it.Though descended from nomads, he greatly preferred ley-line caravans toobstreperous animals.

But the Zuwayzin had done their best tosabotage the ley lines as the Unkerlanters drove northward. King Swemmel’ssorcerers had repaired some of the lines, only to sabotage them in turn whenthe Zuwayzin began pushing south once more. These days, naked black magesworked to undo what Swemmel’s wizards had done. Nobody could sabotage a camel;the powers above had already taken care of that. However revolting the beastswere, though, Hajjaj would rather have gone by camel’s back than by shank’smare.

At the encampment, a comfortable tent anda great flagon of date wine awaited him. He drank it down almost in one longdraught. In Algarve, he’d learned to appreciate fine vintages. Next to them,this stuff was cloying, sticky-sweet. He didn’t care. He always drank it withoutcomplaint whenever it was served to him in Zuwayza, as it often was. It put himin mind of clan gatherings when he was a child. Visiting Algarvians might turnup their noses at the stuff, but he was no visiting Algarvian. To him, it was ataste of home.