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balm, too, to rub on yon Cassiline’s arm, when the time comes. Three more weeks, mind, before the bindings come off. It will help the blood flow, and aid healing. Don’t tell him I gave it you, or he’ll be out of the sling in a heartbeat. I know his kind.”
    “Thank you,” I whispered. “My lord chirurgeon, thank you.”
    “You needn’t. I’ve taken a vow, like you.” He paused. “I saw the boy, earlier.”
    “And?” Anxiety made my heart beat a little faster.
    “He’ll heal.” The chirurgeon gathered up his things. “The brand will leave a scar, but his welts are clean and he is young, and strong of spirit. ’Tis the bitterness that festers worst. Let him talk of it, if he wishes. As he comes to manhood ...” Remembering of whom he spoke, he let his words trail into silence. “Well. He’ll be cared for, no doubt.”
    “No doubt,” I echoed. “Thank you, my lord chirurgeon. I will take your words to heart, and see that they are passed on to those who need hear them.”
    The salve came within the hour, and Joscelin’s balm with it, stoppered in an earthenware jar and smelling of camphor and wintergreen. I hid it among my things. Valère L’Envers sent gifts of clothing, gorgeous robes and veils in the Akkadian style, and unguents and cosmetics. After a welcome soak in the waters of the bathhouse, I had myself properly attired. Elua knows, it was strange. My own skin felt unfamiliar to me, clean and fragrant with perfumed oils. The touch of silk against my flesh was unwontedly luxurious.
    “My lady.” It was one of Valère’s eunuchs at the door, eyes downcast. Behind him stood Joscelin, exotic in a long, broad-sleeved tunic of garnet, worn over trousers. He looked manifestly uncomfortable, and not because of the brocaded sling. “The Lugal will see you.”
    One does not argue, when a prince commands. I donned my veil and went.
    “Where’s Imri?” I asked Joscelin as we traversed the halls.
    “In the zenana .” He said it unthinking; the word was the same, in Akkadian. “The women’s quarters. Uru-Azag will keep an eye on him.”
    “Good.” I stole a sideways glance at him. His fair hair, clean and braided, hung in a neat cable down his back and the sumptuous attire set off his austere beauty. “It suits you, you know.”
    The corner of his mouth rose, ever so slightly. “No. It suits you .”
    And then we arrived at Prince Sinaddan-Shamabarsin’s private audience room, and there was no time for talk. It was only us and his bride, but nonetheless intense for it. The Lugal paced the room as we entered, black brows scowling beneath his turban of cloth-of-gold.
    “Rumors,” he said abruptly, fetching up before us. “I hear rumors, Comtesse, rumors of Drujan. From Demseen Fort, they come; from all along the border, from my own lady wife. Rumors that the Mahrkagir’s power lies in shards, that his armies have lost their will, that Sacred Fires are alight and the bone-priests of Angra Mainyu run shrieking before the blaze. And in the midst of it you come, alive and unlooked— for, bearing a wagon-train of women and eunuchs, sending word that bids me hold my hand. Well and so, I have done it. Now tell me why.”
    I told him.
    For all that it had taken an eternity to live it, the tale was short in the telling. I had slain the Mahrkagir, and the zenana had overthrown Daršanga. Afterward, the Sacred Fires had kindled, and we had made a bargain with the Chief Magus Arshaka. Such a brief tale, to encompass such suffering.
    Valère L’Envers went pale during it. Whether she liked me or no, she was D’Angeline, and guessed better than her royal husband what had ensued, and the cost of it.
    “It is for this,” I said, “my lord, that I ask your aid in seeing these women restored to their homes. They have suffered gravely and sacrificed much, each one.”
    Prince Sinaddan glanced briefly at his wife, who nodded. It seemed they were in accord. “It shall be done,” he said. “Each one of them. Upon the heads of my sons, I swear it; Khebbel-im-Akkad shall dower each one, fit unto a daughter of the House of Ur. But what, my lady, do you say of Drujan? Your bargain is concluded; you have come safe to Nineveh. You are among friends, and may speak freely. I have a small measure of time before this matter comes to the attention of my father, and pressing decisions to make within it. Do you sue for peace, even after what you have endured?”
    Taking a deep breath, I clasped my hands