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"Will go to sleep now, Lady. Will waken when self asks what is wrong,
remembering nothing but agony of uncle's death."
He waited twenty seconds, then plunged forward dramatically. "Lady! Speak!
What is wrong?"
Yasmid opened tear-filled eyes. "What?"
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"Mercy!" Mocker swore. "Self was frightened... Seemed Lady was fainting."
"Me?" she asked. Confusedly, "Nassef... I was thinking about my uncle."
"Is greatest of great shames of great war. Man was genius absolute. Passing of
same will be drastic blow to Disciple, maybeso." He settled back onto his
boulder seat feeling smug.
Then he noticed the captain eyeing him from the horse picket. The man's
expression was inscrutable, but it sent cold-clawed monsters lumbering along
his spine. The way the Invincible's eyes drilled into him!
"Is great tragedy Lady has suffered. Self, would suggest time alone, in tent,
to deal with grief privately." He moved on to watch several Invincibles
practice their swordsmanship. He studied them as if he were unaccustomed to
the flash and clash of steel.
The Invincibles practiced daily, both mounted and dismounted, singly and in
formation. They were a determined bunch. And Mocker always watched them.
Damo Sparen had been a hard teacher. His lessons had survived his passing
well. Among them had been, know your enemy's strengths and weaknesses
beforehand.
Mocker knew every man in the encampment now-except that damned captain. He
knew he could best any of them except, possibly, the captain. And he had no
intention of meeting the man. The captain he intended to share Gouch's fate.
Death in the night.
Yasmid summoned him that afternoon. He went reluctantly, no longer certain he
wanted to harvest what he had sown.
"Entertainer, are you my friend?" she asked.
"Assuredly, Lady." He tried to appear baffled. Pleasure kept trying to fight
its way through. He had not been sure this would work.
"I have a boon to beg, then. A huge one."
"Anything, Lady. Self, exist to serve."
"We were speaking of prospects for peace. You mentioned bin Yousif... I've had
a wild idea. A really insane, improbable idea that just might end this hideous
war. But I need your help."
"Aid of self? In ending war? Am entertainer and would-be student philosophic,
Lady, not diplomat. Am in no wise able... "
"I just want you to ride with me. To be my protector."
"Protector, Lady? When fifty of bravest men of desert... "
"Those brave men are my father's creatures. They'd never permit what I have in
mind."
"Same being?"
"Slipping away from here tonight. Riding hard, northward, through the desert
and the Kapenrungs, into Altea, to find the King Without A Throne and make
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peace."
It was exactly what he wanted to hear. It was hard to pretend shock when he
was so elated. "Lady!"
"I know it's crazy. That's why I think it might work. You said yourself that
Haroun wants peace as much as I do."
"Truth told. But... "
"Enough. I know the risks, but I'm going to try it. The only question is, will
you go with me? Will you help me? Or must I try it alone?"
"Alone, Lady? In this mad world? Would be remiss to permit same, same being
suicidal. Am frightened. Am terrified, must admit. Am natural-born coward. But
will accompany. For sake of Lady, not of peace." He thought that was a nice
touch.
"Then come to my tent after the first watch change. I'll know the guard. He'll
do whatever I tell him as long as he doesn't know what's going on. You may
have to hit him. Be gentle. He's a good man."
"Self? Attack Invincible? Woe! Lady, am anything but fighter."
"I know. I didn't say you had to fight him. Knock him in the back of the head
when he isn't looking."
It was not as simple, of course, as either of them hoped.
Mocker's first move, before approaching Yasmid's tent, was to make an exit
without challenge possible. He began with the captain because he wanted no
cool head available when it came time to organize a pursuit.
That part was almost too easy. It was anticlimatic. Like plucking a ripe plum.
The man was hard asleep. He died without a sound or struggle.
There were six men on perimeter guard duty. Mocker eliminated them next, in
the silent way Sparen had taught him. He approached each as a friend, told
them he could not sleep, then took them suddenly. That bloody treachery done,
he turned to the guards at Sidi's and Yasmid's tents. Finally, he selected two
horses from the now restless picket line, readied them, threw what provisions
he could behind their saddles, and went to collect his prize.
In his nervousness his donkey and props slipped his mind.
His nerves kept humming like the taut catgut of a carnival fiddle. Every step
took time. Each passing minute increased the risk of discovery.
He was almost too scared to think. He proceeded by rote, persevering in an
oft-rehearsed scenario.
He scratched on Yasmid's tent. "Lady?"
A head popped out. He squeaked in surprise. "Ready?" she asked.
He nodded. "Have horses set to go. Come. Quietly."
"You're shaking."
"Am terrified, must confess. Come. Before alarm goes up."
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"Where's the guard?"
"Bashed same over noggin and dragged behind Sidi's tent. Come. Hurry." He
could not give her time to think, to ask questions.
Yasmid came forth. Mocker gawked. She had donned male clothing. She made a
passable boy.
A moan came from behind her brother's tent. And a demon with a savage hand
seized Mocker's vitals. One of his victims had survived! "Hurry, Lady!" He
dragged her toward the horses.
"Captain!" Sidi shrieked, his whining voice tormenting the night. "Captain!"
A sleepy Invincible materialized in Mocker's path. The fat man struck him
down, seized his sword, and plunged on. He did not loosen his grip on the
girl.
"Why did you do that " Yasmid gasped.
Mocker flung her toward the horses. "Get on!" he snarled. "Talk later." He
whirled, crossed blades with the nearest of three pursuers. He dropped the
man, and the next, in the wink of an eye. The third backed off, astounded.
Mocker scrambled onto a horse. Howling like a damned soul, he tried to scatter
the rest. The animals did not go far. They were well trained. He screamed and
kicked his mount into motion as a wave of Invincibles appeared. He swatted
Yasmid's animal as he passed.
For a long time Yasmid was too busy hanging on and keeping up to ask
questions. But she did not forget them. When the pursuit faded and the chance
arose, she demanded, "Why did you do that? You weren't supposed to hurt
anybody."
He glanced back, expecting the momentary materialization of a horde of
vengeful Invincibles. "Self, wonder if bodyguards would play by same rule?
Lady, am ashamed. Am coward, admitted. Panicked. Howsomever, retrospectively,
must admit same was necessitated. Would not have made escape otherwise. Not
so? And Invincibles would have cut self down like cur dog. Not so?"
Yasmid argued, but only half-heartedly. She had to admit that he would have
been maltreated had they been caught.
The journey became an epic. The supplies he had secured did not last. Yasmid
had brought money, but buying by the wayside was dangerous. It left
trailmarkers.
He drove himself and the girl hard. Death was close behind. The Invincibles
would neither forgive nor give up.
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