By now the Izmir was sitting up in bed, propped on pillows and stroking the few scant hairs of his goatee. He nodded and narrowed his eyes at Blade.

«You need not belabor it, my friend. So far I believe. I do not understand it and I doubt I ever will, but to this point I believe what I see. And in the end it is all very simple-you say that you will soon grow into a man? I shall wait and see. If you do grow into a man, then I will accept it and believe even more firmly. If you do not grow into a man I will have you strangled. Simple.»

Blade settled on the bed again. «Yes. Simple. But I am speaking the truth and so we must plan. Hear me out, Izmir and then tell me your thoughts.»

The old man opened his mouth, then closed it. He made a gesture that indicated that Blade was to speak on.

«I had thought you a senile old fool,» said Blade. «I was led to believe this.»

From deep in that scrawny throat came a chuckle. «A fool, yes. Old, yes. Senile, no.»

«I was going to lie to you,» Blade went on. «Lie and bamboozle and pretend to be this child that the priest Casta has been promising will come to save Zir and be your heir. This I cannot do now because it is not true and you know it is not true.»

The Izmir nodded and chuckled again. «Costa is a great liar and also something of a fool, though very cunning. He believes that I believe him.»

The old man fell into a fit of coughing and hawked a great gob of spittle into a cloth, then said. «It is my thought, of late, that Casta does have a child somewhere in the background, a child that he trains and keeps secret and awaits the proper hour to produce and announce as the heir to Zir. Then, when I am dead, he will slay the Princess Hirga and place this child on my throne and rule through him.»

Blade held up a hand. «Later-later for all these details of intrigue. Our task now, for I take it that you are agreed to accept me, is to ensure my survival for the next few days. I cannot think that this priest will take kindly to my coming.»