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together. “My lord,” I said, “I do. It was never the will of the people of Drujan-the farmers, the fisherfolk, the weavers and servants-to follow the worship of Angra Mainyu. ’Twas a few, an embittered few, who grasped power where they found it. And that power, my lord, has its roots in the cruelty of Khebbel-im-Akkad. It is the atrocities committed against the family of Hoshdar Ahzad that gave birth to the Mahrkagir. My lord, I sue for peace on behalf of Drujan that his like may never come again.”
    “Men have died,” he said in a deep voice, “Akkadian men, two mighty armies destroyed. Shall we allow Drujan to surrender peaceably and let this go unpunished? Surely, our weakness will be despised, and Persians everywhere will laugh up their sleeves, encouraged to new insurrection.”
    “No.” I shook my head. “My lord, for eight years Drujani rule has followed the path of Angra Mainyu: ill thoughts, ill words, ill deeds. The land is ravaged, salted and laid barren in many places, the livestock neglected and beaten. The people are starving and weary of living in fear. Ask your scouts, if you do not believe me; ask Tizrav, who accompanied us to Daršanga.” I thought of the Persian mercenary, his loyalty sworn to the radiant light of gold. “My lord, if you enter Drujan with vengeance and bloodshed, it will foment hatred. If you enter with order and aid, distributing foodstuffs, restoring trade, they will hail you as a liberator.”
    “Hmm.” Prince Sinaddan studied Joscelin. “What do you say, my silent warrior? You’ve seen more than the Comtesse of the inner workings of Drujani governance. Are you agreed?”
    “My lord.” Joscelin inclined his head. He had learned enough of the Akkadian tongue to reply in kind. “The Mahrkagir’s army is in disarray, having ever depended on the fearsome gifts of his Âka-Magi. Their power is broken, their allies have fled, and the people look to the ancient Magi to lead them. I concur with my lady Phèdre. The moment is opportune. You will conquer Drujan more thoroughly with compassion than armies.”
    And the Lugal, the new breed of Akkadian despot, mindful of the responsibilities of power, nodded to himself, his neatly tended black beard bobbing. “It is so,” he said, half to himself. “Although my father may not see it. Well, and as he has entrusted me to guard the northern borders, so I may choose. I will dictate terms of a peaceful surrender and send a delegation to this Magus Arshaka. Let us see how he responds.”
    A profound wave of relief swept through me. “My lord is wise.”
    “We shall see.” Sinaddan allowed himself a smile. “Comtesse, I am mindful of the debt I owe you. You and your consort alone have done what two Akkadian armies could not. Will you not name a reward?”
    “Your gratitude is reward enough, my lord,” I said automatically. “For the rest, I ask only reparations for the women of the zenana , and mayhap a place of honor among your guard for Uru-Azag and his comrades, to whose bravery we owe our lives.”
    “They shall form the core of my personal guard,” Valère L’Envers announced. “Being eunuchs, they may not serve among whole men, yet I think it shall be honor enough. Phèdre nó Delaunay, is there no reward you will claim for yourself?”
    There was a touch of impatience in her voice. I daresay the Lugalin of Khebbel-im-Akkad did not care to be indebted to a D’Angeline courtesan, no matter what the circumstance. “An escort to Tyre would not be amiss, my lady.”
    “Escort!” Prince Sinaddan laughed. “You’ll have that, and more.”
    And with that we were dismissed, our audience concluded.
    When it was done, I felt as exhausted as if I’d fought a second war. Truly, politics is a wearying business, fraught with tension and pitfalls, and so many lives at stake on one man’s decision. In our quarters, I went to the dividing door to see if Imriel had been returned to his rooms, but they were still empty. Too tired to move, I simply stood there. Joscelin came up behind me, his good arm resting lightly about my waist. It was enough. As much as I loved him, I couldn’t have borne anything more.
    “It’s going to take me a while,” I said quietly.
    “I know.”
    “I’m sorry.” I wished I didn’t feel broken inside.
    “Phèdre.” He turned me gently to face him. “I know. You did what you had to do. I would that it had been otherwise, but I don’t blame you for it. What you did ... it was a