"But my lord-" Saliman sputtered.

"Do it!"

Almost as if by magic, the muscle men disappeared.

"Now, what's on your mind. Sink?"

"You must have heard that the 3rd is operating independent of the Emperor-we'reon our own."

"Yes?" Jubal purred.

"We're trying to put together a coalition to rid Sanctuary of the Harka Babiesand install an interim ruler who suits us-make Sanctuary an independent state:I've got half an army with no place to call home."

"And you'd like to make your home in Sanctuary?"

"Remains to be seen. But if we try this, we'd like you to be a part of itworking with us. Nobody's going to take and hold Sanctuary without your activecooperation, we've heard."

"How do you know the Beysibs haven't heard it too?" Jubal asked cannily.

The old black was sharp, but Sync could feel that he was buying the deal-lock,stock, and misrepresentations. "Because they're having too much trouble, fromtoo many unidentified quarters."

Jubal laughed. The laugh was amplified by his hawkmask and boomed so loud in thesmall room that its curtains quivered. "That may be, that may be. But flatterywon't get you everywhere-just somewhere. Now, let's hear the specifics." The exgladiator's arms came out from under his cloak and Sync could see purple scarsthat told one seasoned veteran of too many wars that he was looking at another.

Sync said honestly: "You can't believe I'd go into that here, with all thoseears you've got. I want you to come to a little party we're having, at Marc'sWeapons Shop on the Street of Smiths, this evening. Representatives of everyfaction my Long Recon people think useful will be there. I want to put themtogether-with your help, of course- in one well-coordinated, working unit."

"Intriguing." Jubal's hawkmask bobbed slowly. "And then what?"

"Then we're going to make this town what it ought to be, what it used to be,