a spare coat of her own, and she had no doubt that in the morning Danifae would accept it. In the meantime, the girl's perfect dark skin gleamed through the metal mesh, and her full, round breasts swayed enticingly beneath the steel as she stooped to pour Quenthel's wine. The males in the room could not take their eyes from her, try as they might. Even Jeggred, four-armed hulking beast that he was, seemed entranced by the girl's grace and beauty. Valas frowned and busied himself with oiling his kukris, obviously sensing the peril of the moment and recoiling with his usual caution. Ryld, on the other hand. . . .
Ryld was looking at her. Halisstra carefully kept the surprise from her face as she met the weapons master's gaze. Their eyes locked. Hisexpression seemed avid, intense, and Halisstra knew that Danifae's posturing could not have escaped his notice, but instead of gaping at the girl in her armor of metal mesh, the weapons master turned that gaze on her.
Ryld offered a slight smile and made a soft gesture with his hand:An interesting play.
I do not follow your meaning,Halisstra replied, though she could see easily enough that the weapons master knew perfectly well that she did.
She returned her attention to Danifae as the girl kneeled close beside Quenthel, sipping her own wine. The company grew quiet, and Ryld pulled out his travelingsava set to play a game against Valas while the others con-tented themselves with savoring a moment's respite from danger.
Pharaun returned eventually, a handful of scrolls tucked under one arm. He retired to his chamber after a couple of halfhearted jibes at the weapons master to break his concentration. Ryld won anyway, though the Bregan D'aerthe scout gave a good account of himself.
"It has been a long day," Quenthel said. "I shall retire to my chambers. Jeggred, Valas, split the watch tonight. Two others will watch tomorrow."
She stood and stretched, and turned her eyes on Danifae before glid-ing out of the room.
"I think I'll do the same," Danifae said.
The battle captive glanced at Halisstra, offered a coy smile, and went quickly after Quenthel. Ryld put away hissava board and headed up to his room, while Valas and Jeggred tossed a coin for first watch. Halisstra stood, gathered herpiwafwi around her, and went up to her own room. She paused briefly by Quenthel's door and listened, just long enough to hear what might have been a soft gasp or a rustle of clothing, then she moved on. Quenthel's serpents would likely report an eavesdropper at her door.
Clever girl, Halisstra thought. Quenthel was an astute and daring move indeed.
In Ched Nasad Halisstra had sent Danifaeto seduce a rival on more than one occasion. Even the most pragmatic priestess had her favorite pets, and sometimes an otherwise cold and calculating female might be manipulated through her secret pleasures. Halisstra doubted that Dani-fae could succeed in establishing any real influence over Quenthel, but at the worst, she was providing the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith with a reason not to abandon Halisstra and her handmaid on a whim. Of course, if Danifae's services provedtoo valuable to Quenthel, the Baenre might be inclined to claim the captive as her own, but that was a risk Halisstra was willing to take.
Even if Danifae continued to encourage the Baenre to do just that, Halisstra thought of the silver locket around the girl's neck, and allowed herself a smile. Unless Danifae managed to free herself of the binding spell, she couldn't take the smallest step in that direction, as Halisstra's death would precipitate her own. For the moment Halisstra felt she could rely on Danifae's loyalty.
Halisstra found her room and undressed for bed, setting her armor on a chest in the small room and leaving her macewhere she could reach it quickly.
She drifted into Reverie thinking about Quenthel and Danifae together.
Aliisza rode in an iron palanquin through the streets of Gracklstugh, car-ried by four ogres and escorted by a dozen tanarukk warriors. The tanarukks wore armor of burnished iron and carried wickedly hooked greatswords. One fellow carried a yellow banner emblazoned with Kaanyr Vhok's assumed symbol - a scepter clasped in a gauntleted hand. Twice their number ofgray dwarf warriors escorted the embassy along, suspicious glares fixed rigidly on the black palanquin and its occupant. The alu-fiend preened just a little beneath the attention. She would have moved much quicker on her own, of course, but making a grand entrance into the city of the gray dwarves might encourage