down to have a look has come back out again.”
“That troubles me, too,” Coil agreed.
Par glanced briefly at the outlaws, who were paying no atten-
tion to them. “None of us thought for a minute that it wouldn’t
be dangerous trying to recover the Sword,” he whispered, a hint
of exasperation in his voice. “Surely you didn’t expect to just
walk up and take it? Of course no one’s seen it! It wouldn’t be
missing if they had, would it? And you can bet that the Feder-
ation has made certain no one who got down into the Pit got
back out again! That’s the reason for the guards and the Gate-
house! Besides, the fact that the Federation has gone to so much
trouble to hide the old bridge and park suggests to me that the
Sword is down there!”
Coil looked at his brother steadily. “It also suggests that that’s
where it’s meant to stay.”
The conversation broke off and the three of them drifted away
to separate comers of the basement. Evening passed quickly into
nightfall and the heat of the day finally faded. The little company
ate an uneventful dinner amid long stretches of silence. Only
Padishar had much of anything to say, ebullient as always, toss-
ing off stories and jokes as if this night were the same as any
other, seemingly heedless of the fact that his audience remained
unresponsive. Par was too excited to eat or talk and spent the
time wondering if Padishar were as unaffected as he appeared.
Nothing seemed to alter the mood of the outlaw chief. Padishar
Creel was either very brave or very foolish, and it bothered the
Valeman that he wasn’t sure which it was.
Dinner ended and they sat around talking in hushed voices
and staring at the walls. Padishar came over to Par at one point
and crouched down beside him. “Are you anxious to be about
our business, lad?” he asked softly.
No one else was close enough to hear. Par nodded.
“Ah, well, it won’t be long now.” The outlaw patted his
knee. The hard eyes held his own. “Just remember what we’re
about. A quick look and out again. If the Sword is there for the
taking, fine. If not, no delays.” His smile was wolfish. “Cau-
tion in all things.” He slipped away, leaving Par to stare after
him.
The minutes lengthened with the wearing slowness of shad-
ows at midday. Par and Coil sat side by side without speaking.
Par could almost hear his brother’s thoughts in the silence. The
oil lamps flickered and spat. A giant swamp fly buzzed about
the ceiling until Ciba Blue killed it. The basement room began
to smell close.
Then finally Padishar stood up and said it was time. They
came to their feet eagerly, anticipation flickering in their eyes.
Weapons were strapped down and cloaks pulled close. They
went up the basement stairs through the trapdoor and out into
the night.
The city streets were empty and still. Voices drifted out of
ale houses and sleeping rooms, punctuated by raucous laughter
and occasional shouts. The lamps were mostly broken or unlit
on the back streets that Padishar took them down, and there was
only moonlight to guide them through the shadows. They did
not move furtively, only cautiously, not wishing to draw atten-
tion to themselves. They ducked back into alleyways several
times to avoid knots of swaying, singing revellers who were
making their way homeward. Drunks and beggars who saw them
pass barely glanced up from the doorways and alcoves in which
they lay. They saw no Federation soldiers. The Federation left
the back streets and the poor of Tyrsis to manage for themselves.
When they reached the People’s Park and the Bridge of Sendic,
Padishar sent them across the broad expanse of the Tyrsian Way
in twos and threes into the shadows of the park, dispatching
them in different directions to regroup later, carefully watching
the well-lighted Way for any approach of the Federation patrols
he knew would be found there. Only one patrol passed, and it
saw nothing of the company. A watch was posted before the
Gatehouse at the center of the wall that warded the Pit, but the