e queen of Cartada for the past eight years； looked back at him again and smiled； her small； perfect teeth showing white。
〃Really？〃 she said。 〃On a day when you kill a king and are exiled from your home by your own disciple； a simple visit from a lady is what disconcerts you？ I don't know whether to be flattered。〃
Her voice was exquisite； there seemed to be music beneath it。 It had always been thus。 She had broken hearts and mended them when she sang。 She smelled of myrrh and roses。 Her eyes and fingernails had been carefully painted。 He wondered how long she had been here。 He ought to have asked the steward。
〃There is nothing simple about either the lady or the visit；〃 he murmured。 〃Will you take refreshment？〃
A servant had appeared with a tray bearing pomegranate juice and sherbet in tall glasses。 He took the drinks and offered her one。 〃Will I offend you if I also suggest a cup of wine ？ There is a Jaddite vineyard north of us and I have an arrangement with them。〃
〃You would not offend me in the least；〃 Zabira said； with some measure of feeling。
Ammar smiled。 This was the most celebrated beauty in Al…Rassan； and young still； though perhaps a little less youthful after this morning。 Ibn Khairan was only one of the myriad poets who had extolled her over the years。 He had been the first； though； there would always be that。 He had met her with Almalik。 Had been there when it began。
The woman we saw at the Gate of the Fountain；
As twilight stole down upon the city walls
Like a cloaked thief of the day's light；
Wore the first holy stars of Ashar
As ornaments atop the dark fall of her hair。
What shall be the name of their beauty
If it be not her name？
Sacrilege； of course； but Al…Rassan after the Khalifate's fall…and long before…had not been the most devout place in the Asharite world。
She had been seventeen years old that evening when the king and the lord ibn Khairan； his closest friend and advisor； had ridden back into Cartada from a day's hunting in the western forests and had seen a girl drawing water from a fountain in the last of the autumn light。 Eight years ago。
〃Really； Ammar； why would you be surprised？〃 the same woman asked him now； infinitely sophisticated； eyeing him over the rim of the glass。 Ibn Khairan gestured at the servant； who withdrew to bring wine。 〃What do you imagine Cartada might hold for me now？〃
Carefully； for he was conscious that what he had done this morning had turned her world upside…down and put her life in peril； he said； 〃The son is son to the father； Zabira； and much of your own age。〃
She made a wry face。 〃You heard what he said to me this morning。〃
Not quite； the prince had murmured。 They had all heard that。 Zabira had been careful； always； but it was hardly a secret that with Hazem the second son entangled hopelessly with the most zealous of the wadjis； her own older child was the only real alternative to Prince Almalik…provided the king had lived long enough for the boy to e of age。 He had not。 Ammar wondered； suddenly； where the two children were。
〃I heard what he said。 Despite that； Almalik ibn Almalik has a nature not immune to enticement；〃 he replied； still being cautious。 In its own way he was making an appalling suggestion； though by no means an unprecedented one。 Royal sons succeeded fathers； in more ways than one。
She gave him a sidelong glance。 〃A man's enticement； or a woman's？ Perhaps you could enlighten me as to that？〃 she said sweetly。 Then went on before he could reply： 〃I know him。 I've had him watched a long time； Ammar。 He will be immune to whatever charms I yet retain。 He is too afraid。 For him； I will carry the shadow of his father wherever I go； in bed or in court； and he isn't ready to deal with that。〃 She sipped from her drink again and looked out at the gleaming curve of the river and the reddening hills。 〃He will want to kill my sons。〃
Ammar had been thinking the same thing； actually。
He decided it was better； in the circumstances； not to ask where the boys were； though it would have been useful knowledge for later。 The servant returned with two more glasses； water and wine in a beautifully crafted decanter。 He had spent a small fortune on glass over the years。 More things to leave behind。
The tray was set down and the servant withdrew。 Ibn Khairan mixed water and wine for the two of them。 They drank； not speaking。 The wine was very good。
The image of two small boys seemed to hang in the air in the gathering twilight。 Suddenly； for no good reason； he thought of Ishak of Fezana； the Kindath doctor who had attended upon Zabira for both those boys…and had lost his eyes and tongue after the delivery of the second。 He had gazed with an infidel's eyes upon the forbidden beauty of the woman whose life he had saved。 The woman now standing here； her scent vivid and distracting； her white skin flawless。 He wondered if she knew what had happened to Ishak ben Yonannon； if Almalik had ever told her。 That led to another unexpected thought。
〃You really did love the king； didn't you？〃 he asked at length； uncharacteristically awkward。 He didn't feel entirely in control of this situation。 Murdering someone left you vulnerable to certain things； he had almost forgotten that lesson over the course of fifteen years。 How was one to proceed with the lover of a man one had slain？
〃You know I did；〃 she said calmly。 〃That isn't a difficult or even a real question； Ammar。〃 She turned and stood facing him for the first time。 〃The difficult truth is that you loved him as well。〃
And that he had not expected。
He shook his head quickly。 〃No。 I respected him； I admired his strength； I enjoyed the subtlety of his mind。 His foresight； his cunning。 I had hopes of the son； as well。 In a way； I still do。〃
〃Otherwise your teaching was wasted？〃
〃Otherwise my teaching was wasted。〃
〃It was；〃 said Zabira flatly。 〃You'll see； soon enough。 And though I heard a denial of love； I am afraid I do not believe it。〃
She set down her empty glass and looked up at him thoughtfully； standing very near。 〃Tell me something else；〃 she said； her voice changing timbre。 〃You suggested the new king was not immune to enticement。 Are you； Ammar？〃
He was； perhaps； the least easily startled man in Al…Rassan； but this； following hard upon the last remarks； was entirely unexpected。 Hilarity； intense and swift； rose within him and as swiftly subsided。 He had killed her lover that morning。 The father of her children。 The hope of her future。
〃I have been accused of many things； but never that；〃 he said； parrying for time。
She granted him none。 〃Good； then；〃 said Zabira of Cartada； and rising on her toes； she kissed him upon the lips； slowly and with considerable expertise。
Someone else did this to me； not long ago； ibn Khairan thought； before all such associations were chased away。 The woman on the terrace with him stepped back； but only to begin…silk sleeves falling away to reveal the white skin of her arms…unbinding her black hair。
He stared； mesmerized； words and thoughts scattering in disarray。 He watched her hands descend to the pearl buttons of her overtunic。 She undid two of them； and paused。 It was not an overtunic。 She wore nothing beneath。 In the extremely clear； soft light he glimpsed the pale； pear…like curves of her breasts。
His throat was suddenly dry。 His voice husky in his own ears； ibn Khairan said； 〃My rooms are just here。〃
〃Good；〃 she said again。 〃Show me。〃
It did occur to him just then that she might have e here to kill him。
It did not occur to him to do anything about it。 He had； truly； never been accused of being immune to enticement。 He lifted her up； she was small…boned and slender； no real weight at all。 The scent of her surrounded him； dizzying for a moment。 He felt her mouth at the lobe of one ear。 Her fingers were about his neck。 His blood loud within him； ibn Khairan carried her through a doorway and into his bedchamber。
Is it the possibility of dying that does this？ he wondered； his first and last such clear thought for some time。 Is that what excites me so？
His bed； in a large room hung with Serian tapestries； was low to the gr