'Is that Commander Nizharu?' Jarveena said eagerly.

'What? How do you know his name?'

'My mistress sent me to him! She saw him early today when he was abroad in thecity, and she was so taken with his handsome' ness that she resolved at once tosend a message to him. But it was all to be in secret!' Jarveena let a quaverenter her voice. 'Now I've let it out, and she'll turn me over to the priests ofArgash, and ... Oh, I'm done for! I might as well be dead right now!' • . 'Dyingcan wait,' the sergeant said, reaching an abrupt decision. 'But the commanderwill definitely want to know about the Dyareelans. I thought only madmen in thedesert paid attention to that old bitch nowadays ... Hello, what's this at yourside?' He lifted it into the light. 'A writing-case, is it?'

'Yes, sir. That's what I mainly do for my mistress.'

'If you can write, why deliver messages yourself? That's what I always say. Oh,well, I guess you're her confidante, are you?' Jarveena nodded vigorously.

'A secret shared is a secret no longer, and here's one more proof of theproverb. Oh, come along!'

By the light of two lamps filled, to judge by their smell, with poor-grade fishoil, Nizharu was turning the contents of his pavilion upside-down, with not evenan orderly to help him. He had cleared out two brass-bound wooden chests and wasbeginning on a third, while the bedding from his field couch of wood and canvaswas strewn on the floor, and a dozen bags and pouches had been emptied and notrepacked.

He was furious when the sergeant raised the tent flap, and roared that he wasnot to be disturbed. But Jarveena took in the situation ' at a glance and saidin a clear firm voice, 'I wonder if you're looking for a scroll.'

Nizharu froze, his face turned so that light fell on it. He was as fair a man asshe had ever seen: his hair like washed wool, his eyes like chips of summer sky.