It was too bitter a truth even for irony。 These things in Badir's room…these measures of having found the space to strive for and value beauty in the world…were seen by those to north and south as the markers of corruption； decadence； frivolity。 Impiety。 Dangerous earthly distractions from a properly humble； cringing appeasement of a blazing god of the sun； or a far； cold deity behind the stars。
〃The lady Zabira；〃 he said； shifting position to ease his hip； 〃has offered to present herself as a gift to the young king of Jalona。〃
Badir looked up。 He had been gazing into the fire。
〃She believes she might be able to kill him；〃 ben Avren added； by way of explanation。
King Badir shook his head。 〃No point。 A brave offer； but that young man means little to his army。 What is he； sixteen？ And his mother would have Zabira torn apart before she came anywhere near the boy。〃
〃My thought as well； my lord。 I thanked her and declined； on your behalf。〃 He smiled。 〃I told her she could present herself to you； instead； but that I needed her more with winter ing。〃
The king returned the smile； briefly。
〃Do we make it to the winter？〃 he asked。
Ben Avren sipped his wine before answering。 He had been hoping this would not be asked。 〃I would rather we didn't have to； to be honest。 It will be a near thing。 We need an army from the desert to at least land in Al…Rassan； to put the Jalonans on warning that they are at risk of being trapped outside walls and shelter。 They might withdraw then。〃
〃They should have taken Fibaz before besieging us。〃
〃Of course they should have。 Give thanks to Ashar and I'll offer a libation to the moons。〃
The king didn't smile this time。 〃And if the Muwardis don't land？〃
Ben Avren shrugged。 〃What can I say； my lord？ No city is ever safe from betrayal。 Especially as supplies begin to dwindle。 And you do have a principal advisor who is one of the hated； evil Kindath。 If the Jalonans ever offer a measure of clemency 。。。 〃
〃They will not。〃
〃But if they did？ If we then had something to offer back to them； in partial redress of their king's death 。。。 ？〃
Badir scowled。 〃We have been through this。 Do not vex me again。 I will not accept your resignation； your departure； your sacrifice 。。。 none of these things。 What am I clinging to； so desperately； that I would allow myself to lose you？〃
〃Life？ The lives of your people？〃
Badir shook his head。 〃I am too old to clutch like that。 If the veiled ones e； my people may survive 。。。 after a fashion。 This city…as we built it…will not。〃
He gestured around the room。 〃We made this together； my friend。 If it goes； one way or another； I will make an end drinking my wine with you。 Do not speak of this again。 I regard the subject as a 。。。 betrayal。〃
Ben Avren's expression was grave。 〃It is not that； my lord。〃
〃It is。 We find a way out together； or we do not。 Are you not proud of what we have achieved； we two？ Is it not a denial of our very lives to speak as you are speaking now？ I will not cling to some miserable form of existence at the price of all we have been。〃
His chancellor said nothing。 The king； after a pause； said； 〃Mazur； are there not some things we have made here； some things we have done； that are worthy to have been in Silvenes； even in the golden age？〃
And Mazur ben Avren； with rare emotion in the deep voice； replied； 〃There has been a king here； at the least； my lord； more than worthy to have been a khalif in the Al…Fontina in those most shining days。〃
Another silence。 King Badir said； at length； very softly； 〃Then speak no more； old friend； of my losing you。 I cannot。〃
Ben Avren inclined his head。 〃I will speak of it no more；〃 he said。 〃My lord。〃
They finished their wine。 The chancellor rose； with some difficulty； and bade his king good night。 He went down the long palace corridors； his slippers silent on the marble floors； walking under torches and past tapestries； listening to the rain。
Zabira was asleep。 She had left one candle burning on a table with a flask of wine and another of water； and a glass for him； already filled。 He smiled； looking down upon her…as beautiful in sleep as she was awake。
The northerners； he thought； the desert tribes： how could they even prehend a place and time…a world…that had produced a woman such as this？ She would be a symbol of corruption for them both。 They would kill her or degrade her； he knew。 They would have no idea what else to do with Zabira of Cartada or the music that she made； moving in the world。
He sat down with a sigh in the carved； deep…cushioned wooden chair he'd missioned from a Jaddite craftsman in the city。 He drank a glass of wine； and then； eventually； another； not really sleepy； deep in thought。
No real regrets； he told himself。 And realized it was true。
Before he undressed for bed he went to the inner window and opened it and looked out； breathing the night air。 The rain had stopped。 Water dripped from the leaves of the trees to the garden below。
A long way to the south and west another man was awake that same night； beneath a very different sky。
Past the peaks of the Serrana； past Lonza； huddled and afraid behind its walls； waiting for the Valledans to e； past Ronizza whose lacework was known through all the world； past arrogant Cartada in the valley of its power where the red dye was made； past Aljais and the canals of Elvira； and Silvenes where ghosts and ghostly music were said still to drift among the ruins； past； even； Tudesca at the mouth of the Guadiara； where ships put out to sea with the wealth of Al…Rassan and brought eastern treasures home。
Past all of these and beyond the waters of the straits； outside the walls of Abirab at the northern tip of the Majriti sands； Yazir ibn Q'arif； lord of the tribes of the desert； Sword of Ashar in the West； breathed the salt air from the sea and； sitting alone on an outspread cloak； looked up at a clear sky strewn with the stars of his god。
The Zuhrites had been taught by the sage who had e to them that there were as many stars as there were sands in the desert。 Twenty years ago； new to belief； Yazir used to try to prehend what that meant。 He would run grains of sand through his hand while gazing at the heavens。
He was beyond such testing now。 Understanding of the god was only for one such as Ashar； worthy of the gift of vision。 What could a simple warrior do but bow his head and worship before such unimaginable vastness？
Stars of the heavens like the sands of the desert？ What could any man do but humble himself and serve； praying by day and night for mercy and grace； understanding that he was only a part…less than a grain in the drifting sands…of the larger； unheard purpose of the god。
How could men grow swollen with pride； nourish delusions of their worth or the worth of the frail； vain things they made； if they truly believed in Ashar and the stars？ That； Yazir ibn Q'arif thought； was a question he would like to ask the kings of Al…Rassan。
The night was mild； though Yazir could sense a hint of winter to e in the wind from the sea。 Not long now。 Two moons were riding among the stars； the blue one waxing and the white one a waning crescent in the west beyond the last of the land。
Looking at the moons； he was thinking about the Kindath； as it happened。
He had only met one of them in all his life； a barefoot wanderer in a belted robe who had e ashore years ago at a trading station on the coast east of Abeneven。 The man had asked to meet the leader of the tribes and had been brought； eventually； to Yazir。
The Kindath had not been a man as most men were； he was not even typical of his own people。 He had said as much to Yazir at their first meeting on the sands。 Hardened by years of travel； his skin burnt dark and weathered by wind and sun； he reminded Yazir of no one so much as ibn Rashid； the wadji who had e to the Zuhrites long ago…heretical as such a thought might have been。 He had the same long； untended white beard； the same clear eyes that seemed to look at something behind or beyond what other men saw。
He was journeying through many lands； the Kindath said； writing of his