"You know me?"

"Oh, yes, Mistress. The Captain's Lady." He emphasized those last two words, separately and heavily. He bowed three times. Each time his right thumb and forefinger brushed a triangle of black cloth that peeped over the top of his loincloth. "We stood guard while you slept. We should have realized you would need no protection. Forgive us our presumption."

Gods, did he smell. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"Yes, Mistress. A few, from afar. Running, most of them."

"And the Shadowmasters' soldiers?"

"They search, but with no enthusiasm. Their masters didn't send many. A thousand like these pigs." He indicated the man I had dropped. His partner was searching the body. "And a few hundred horsemen. They must be busy with the city."

"Mogaba will give them hell if he can, buying time for others to get clear."

The big man said, "Nothing on this toad either, jamadar."

The little man grunted.

Jamadar? It's the Taglian word for captain. The little man had used it earlier, with a different intonation, when he'd called me the Captain's Lady.

I asked, "Have you seen the Captain?"

The pair exchanged looks. The little man stared at the ground. "The Captain is dead, Mistress. He died trying to rally the men to the standard. Ram saw it. An arrow through the heart."

I sat down on the ground. There was nothing to say. I'd known it. I'd seen it happen, too. But I hadn't wanted to believe it. Till that instant, I realized, I'd been carrying some small hope that I'd been wrong.

Impossible that I could feel such loss and pain. Damn him, Croaker was just a man! How did I get so involved? I never meant it to get complicated.

This wasn't accomplishing anything. I got up. "We lost a battle but the war goes on. The Shadowmasters will rue the day they decided to bully Taglios. What are your names?"