Chapter 1

Part 1: Burning

Frohliem City was burning—again. Helpless, Dax watched from the tower window. Alarm bells signaled that safety wardens were on their way to the Terrace district, and the fire should be under control before long—but it burned. Most of the city had too much stone to burn easily, but if a fire ever got into the shanties on the east side near the harbor entrance, the losses would be terrible.

Dax needed to see what was happening for himself. He trotted down the stairs to where Narsus waited. In the six months since he had been injured battling the monstrous dragon the Tharans had brought against the city, his injuries had healed. Still, he took every chance he had to get his body back into proper condition.

"There's a fire in the north part of the city," he announced. "I want to see what is happening."

Narsus nodded. "Do you want a squad of palace guards to go with you?"

Dax paused to think. "No, in spite of what Queen Layna says, taking palace guards with me would draw too much attention. Get Atch and two others to go with us. No uniforms. I don't want to draw attention. I just want to see what is going on."

A few minutes later the five set out on foot. Dressed rough with long, plain cloaks against the cold night winds, they put their hoods up to hide their faces. Dax knew the city well enough to get around. However, the others had grown up in the back streets and alleyways, and that was the route they took. Factional slogans were scrawled on walls and fences. Crude, whitewashed names and epithets proclaimed the kingdom's divisions in bold letters. A wide splash of paint covered over hand-lettered proclamations along a whole section of fence, but names and slogans carved into the wood underneath still showed. All along their route, untended flat surfaces carried names and slogans which defaced earlier epithets covering older slogans. Factional endorsements adorned more surfaces all the time. Most alarmingly, the current tone was much more angry and hostile.

The dark city streets were quiet as they neared the fire, but at the scene, the crowd was huge. A squad of safety wardens had arrived, but they had not been able to get through the throng to the fire burning in a large warehouse. Mobs of people filled the street. They threw rocks and bottles back and forth at each other. Until the crowd disbursed, the wardens could not get to the fire. The mob overmatched them.

Dax and his companions watched from the shadows of an alley. Dax wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do. His group was not large enough make a difference to the outnumbered wardens trying to restore peace. Frustrated, he stood in the shadows and watched.

A squadron of Lancers clattered up the street toward the rioters. They did not have their lances, but Lancers on horseback with their wooden staves dominated the unmounted and unarmed members of the crowd. Although rival gangs had been throwing rocks at each other, no one threw rocks at the Lancers. The mounted men forced their way into the mob and cut it into smaller groups. With the crowd split, peace wardens broke up the smaller fights, and soon the opposing parties separated.

A mounted officer noticed Dax and his party in the shadows of the alley and rode over to investigate. "Show yourselves," he demanded. His hand was on his sword, but he had not drawn it.

Dax stepped out of the shadows. "Good evening Tre Handman."

The Lancer recognized Dax immediately. He stiffened in his saddle. "General, sir!" He looked back over his shoulder and called, "Lieutenant Karry, General Daxdendraig is here!"

Dax winced, but it was too late. His surreptitious reconnaissance was no longer secret. The lieutenant rode over. Dax returned his salute and started to listen to the man's report. Before the man had said more than a few sentences, a chant interrupted him. It started low but more voices took up the cry. "Dax! Dax! Dax!..." The excited mob pressed forward against the Lancers' line eager to catch a glimpse of the hero who had saved the city. They had forgotten their enmity of a few minutes before in their enthusiasm to see the man who had killed the dragon.

Things were getting out of hand rapidly. "Lieutenant Karry," Dax said loudly enough to be heard over the rising chant, "mind the crowd and your mission to help get that fire under control. My men and I are leaving." He threw the lieutenant a quick salute. "My compliments to you and the rest of the Lancers."

It was too late. The first wave of the mob pushed past Lieutenant Karry and his horse toward the mouth of the alley. Their bodies wedged together at the entrance blocking the bulk of the throng from getting into the narrow byway. A few leaders broke loose into the alley, and they raced after Dax and his party.

Dax saw Atch go down out of the corner of his eye. He shouted to the rest, "Man down!" They turned and faced their pursuers. Atch jumped to his feet and stood at Dax's side behind Narsus and Joddle. The men coming down the alley toward them had no weapons. They reached out eager to get closer to Dax. The alley was dark, but there was enough light to see their sweat-slicked faces. They smiled, their faces radiant as they reached for him. They wanted to be close to him—to touch him. Dax shuddered at the worship in their eyes.

Moments counted. There was no way to tell how quickly the jam at the mouth of the alley might give way, but these were not warriors they faced. "No swords!" he called. "No killing! Hit them. Knock them down. Then we run."

The group with Dax were warriors. In a moment they were the only ones standing in the alley. Dax and his men did not hesitate. They turned and ran. In a moment they found a side street. Then another. Once out of sight of the mob, they slowed to a brisk walk. For some distance yet Dax heard the crowd chanting his name.

They had gone past two more streets, and Dax's breathing had almost returned to normal when Narsus leaned close to Dax. "We've got a shadow," he said quietly.

"That's interesting," Dax replied. "Thank you."

A shadow? Could it be an assassin? Recently there had been attempts on the life of several powerful people within the city. Two had succeed. The first killed had been a woman of royal blood who had been championed as East Landly's first queen by the Tietus and Malnik houses—to whom she just happened to be related. The other had been the senior Lott of Lott's Stone and Masonry, one of the largest construction businesses in the city.

Dax had had his own experience. A week ago he had met with the leaders of the peace wardens and representatives from the dockworkers. A group of tough men had been trying to extort shakedown payments from the dockworkers by breaking arms. The meeting had not solved the problem although the peace wardens took descriptions the attackers and promised to keep closer watch on the docks. After the meeting, a man had confronted Dax in a doorway. "Death to the tyrant of the city!" he had cried as he lunged at Dax with a knife. The man had no skill with the blade, and Dax had disarmed him easily.

The assault had been on Dax's mind for some time. The man had babbled a series of paranoid fears about Dax, the safety wardens, the queen, and a conspiracy from Urgo. None of it made sense. The man's mind was obviously unsound. However, the man had twenty silvers in his pocket, a suspiciously large sum for someone so weak minded.

This night as they walked back toward the palace, their shadow seemed content to remain a shadow. Could he be in league with a team of men who might be planning an ambush? There was no sense to the idea that a band of assassins would wait in the Terrace district on the off chance Dax might choose to investigate the fire in person. Could the shadow be a spy for one of the power groups in the city? He might be a freelance operator hoping someone would pay him for information about Dax's coming and going. He could also be waiting for a favorable location to make an attack.

Either way, Dax decided to question him. "Atch. Joddle. Next corner we'll turn right. You hide in the shadows after we make the turn and take hold of our friend as he comes along. I'd like to talk with him."

At the next corner, they made the turn, and Dax walked on with the other two men. At the next street they stopped and waited. Soon Atch and Joddle joined them empty handed. The shadow had not followed them around the corner. As much as anything, that worried Dax. Their shadow had skills which made it unlikely he was just a freelancer. Someone was keeping an eye on Dax.