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hree of their white…skinned brethren； although both took many wounds。 When they had slaughtered the Norns； Chekai'so Amber…Locks draped Zinjadu's corpse across his saddle。 His own streaming blood mixed with hers as he and Kuroyi bore her back toward the Sithi camp。
The day wore on； full of madness and misery。 Behind the mist and snow； the sun rose past noon and began to fall。 The broken west wall of Naglimund began to glow with the light of a murky afternoon； and the snows grew even more red。
Maegwin walked along the edge of the battle like a ghost…as indeed she was。 At first she had hidden behind the trees； afraid to witness such horrible things； but eventually her better sense had led her out again。
If I am dead； then what do I fear？
But it was hard to look at the bloody forms that lay scattered about the snowy hillside and not fear death。
Gods do not die； and mortals die but once； she reassured herself。 When this is settled； they will all rise again。
But if they should all rise again； then what was the point of this battle？ And if the gods could not die； then what did they fear from the demon hordes out of Scadach？ It was puzzling。
Pondering； Maegwin walked slowly beside slayers and slain。 Her cloak fluttered behind her； and her feet left small； even prints in the froth of white and scarlet。
9
The Third House
Simon was furious。 They had walked into a trap； as sweetly and stupidly as spring lambs led to the killing block。
〃Can you move your hands at all？〃 he whispered to Miriamele。 His own wrists were bound very securely： the two Fire Dancers who had done the job had some experience with knots。
She shook her head。 He could barely see her in the deepening night。
They were kneeling side by side at the center of the forest clearing。 Their arms had been tied behind their backs and their ankles roped。 Seeing Miriamele trussed and helpless； the idea of brute animals readied for slaughter returned and black anger rose inside Simon once more。
I'm a knight！ Doesn't that mean anything？ How could I let this happen？
He should have known。 But he had been busy strutting like a mooncalf over the man Roelstan's pliments。 〃You have seen this knight wield a sword；〃 the traitor had said。 〃He has naught to fear from Fire Dancers。〃
And I believed him。 I am not fit to be a knight。 I am a disgrace to Josua and Morgenes and Binabik and everyone who's ever tried to teach me anything。
Simon engaged in another futile struggle with his bonds； but the ropes held him in an unbreakable grip。
〃You know something of these Fire Dancers； don't you？〃 he whispered to Miriamele。 〃What are they going to do with us？ What do they mean when they say they're going to give us to the Storm King？ Burn us？〃
He felt Miriamele shudder against him。 〃I don't know。〃 Her voice was flat； dead。 〃I suppose so。〃
Simon's terror and anger were for a moment overe by a stab of regret。 〃I let you down； didn't I？〃 he said quietly。 〃Some protector。〃
〃It's not your fault。 We were tricked。〃
〃I wish I could get my hands on that Roelstan's throat。 His wife was trying to tell us something was wrong； but I was too stupid to listen。 But he…he。。。 '〃
〃He was frightened； too。〃 Miriamele spoke as from a great and lofty height； as though the things of which she spoke were of little import。 〃I don't know if I could give my own life up to save the lives of strangers。 Why should I hate those two for not being able to？〃
〃 'S' Bloody Tree。〃 Simon didn't have the strength to waste pity on treacherous Roelstan and Gullaighn。 He had to save Miriamele somehow； had to burst these bonds and fight his way free。 But he didn't have the slightest idea how to begin。
The business of the Fire Dancer camp went on around them。 Several white…robed folk were tending the fire and preparing a meal； others were feeding the goats and chickens； while still others sat and talked quietly。 There were even a few women and children among them。 But for the two bound prisoners and the omnipresent gleam of white robes； it might have been the onset of evening in any rural steading。
Maefwaru； the Fire Dancers' leader； had taken a trio of his lieutenants into the large cottage。 Simon did not much wish to think about what they might be discussing。
The evening grew deeper。 The white…clad Figures ate a frugal meal； none of which they offered to share with the prisoners。 The fire danced and fluttered in the wind。
〃Get them up。〃 Maefwaru's eyes flicked across Simon and Miriamele； then rolled up to the blue…black sky。 〃It is nearing the time。〃
Two of his helpers dragged the prisoners to their feet。 Simon's feet were numb； and it was difficult to balance with his ankles tied together； he swayed and would have fallen if the Fire Dancer behind him had not grabbed his arms and jerked him upright once more。 Beside him； Miriamele also teetered。 Her captor wrapped an arm around her； handling her as casually as if she had been a log。
〃Don't you touch her；〃 Simon snarled。
Miriamele gave him a tired look。 〃It does no good； Simon。 Let it go。〃
The Fire Dancer at her side grinned and pawed at her breasts for a moment； but a sharp sound from Maefwaru sobered him fast。 As the robed man turned to face his chief； Miriamele hung in his grasp； her face devoid of feeling。
〃Idiot；〃 Maefwaru said harshly。 〃These are not children's toys。 They are for Him…for the Master。 Do you understand？〃
Miriamele's captor swallowed and nodded rapidly。
〃It is time to go。〃 Maefwaru turned and headed for the edge of the clearing。
The Fire Dancer behind Simon gave him a rough shove。 Simon toppled like a felled tree。 His breath flew out in a great huff and the night swam with points of light。
〃Their legs are tied；〃 the Fire Dancer said slowly。
Maefwaru whirled。 〃I know that！ Take the ropes off their legs。〃
〃But 。。。 but what if they run？〃
'Tie a rope to their arms；〃 said the leader。 〃Tie the other end around your waist。〃 He shook his bald head in thinly…concealed disgust。
Simon felt a flash of hope as the robed man produced a knife and bent to saw through the knots at his ankles。 If Maefwaru was the only clever one； as seemed to be the case； perhaps there was some hope after all。
When he and Miriamele were both able to walk； the Fire Dancers tied ropes around both of them； then pushed them ahead as though they were balky oxen； prodding them with spear…points if they stumbled or lagged。 The spears were oddly formed； short and yet slim…hafted and very sharp； not quite like anything Simon had seen before。
Maefwaru stepped through the vegetation at the edge of the clearing and disappeared； evidently leading them somewhere out of the clearing。 Simon was a little relieved。 He had been watching the fire for a long time and having very bad thoughts about it。 At least they would be taken to some other place； it might be that their chance of escape would improve。 Perhaps there would even be an opportunity as they traveled。 He looked back and was dismayed to see that what seemed like the entire enclave of Fire Dancers was following them； a line of white trailing off into the gloom。
What had appeared to be solid forest was instead a well…packed trail that switched back and forth as it wound uphill。 It was hard to see its progress more than a few ells ahead： the ground was thick with mist； a grayish murk that seemed to absorb sound as thoroughly as it masked sight。 But for the muffled tread of two…score feet； the woods were silent。 Not a nightbird sang。 Even the wind had quieted。
Simon's mind was racing； but as quickly as he thought of plans for escape； he had to abandon each in turn as impossible。 He and Miriamele were vastly outnumbered and in an unfamiliar place。 Even if they managed to jerk themselves free from the Fire Dancers who held their ropes； they would be unable to use their arms for balance or clearing a path； and would be caught within moments。
He looked back at the princess plodding along behind him。 She looked cold and miserable and drearily resigned to whatever might e。 At least they had let her keep her cloak。 In her only moment of spirit； she had convinced one of their captors to allow her to wear it against the night breeze。 Simon had not been so lucky。 His cloak had gone； along with his sword and Qanuc knife。 The horses and saddlebags had been taken somewhere； too。 The only things left to him now were the clothes he wore and his life and soul。
And Miriamele's life； too； he thought。 I have sworn to protect it。 That is still my responsibility。
There was some fort in that。 While he had breath in him； he had a purpose。
He was slapped in the face by a hanging branch。 He spat out wet fir needles。 Maefwaru was a small ghostly shape in the murk before him； leading them ever higher。
Where are we going？ Perhaps it would be better if we never found out。
They stumbled on through the gray mist like damned souls trying to walk out of Hell。
It seemed they had been walking for hours。 The mists had thinned a little； but me silence was still heavy； the air thick and damp。 Then； as swiftly as the passing of winter twilight； they emerged from a tangle of trees and found themselves on the hilltop。
While they had passed through the shadows of the wooded hill a great wash of clouds had covered the sky overhead； extinguishing the moon and stars； so that now the only light came from a few torches and the leaping flames of a huge bonfire。 The summit's sloping ground bulged with strange vast shapes； forms limned with flickering red light so that they seemed to move fitfully； like sleeping giants。 Once these might have been pieces of some great wall or other large structure； now they lay scattered and broken； smothered beneath a matted carpet of vines and grass。
In the middle of the wide hilltop one piece of stone had been cut free from vegetation…a huge pale rock； angular as an ax head； that jutted to twice the height of a man。 Between the high bonfire and this naked stone stood three motionless dark…robed shapes。 They looked as though they had been waiting for a long time…perhaps as long as the rocks themselves had waited。 As the Fire Dancers pushed the prisoners toward the center of the hill； the dark trio turned； almost in unison。
〃Hail； Cloud Children！〃 Maefwaru shouted。 〃Hail to the Master's first Chosen。 We have e as He wished。〃
The black…robed things regarded him silently。
〃And we have brought more even than we promised；〃 Maefwaru continued。 〃Praise to the Master！〃 He turned and waved to his underlings； who hurried Simon and Miriamele forward； but as they approached the bonfire and the silent watchers； the Fire Dancers slowed； then stopped and looked helplessly back to their leader。
'Tie them to that tree； there。〃 Maefwaru gestured impatiently at the wind…gnarled corpse of a pine standing some twenty paces from the fire。 〃Hurry…it is almost midnight。〃
Simon grunted in pain as one of their captors pulled his arms behind his back to secure them to the tree。 As soon as the Fire Dancers had finished and withdrawn； he edged toward Miriamele until their shoulders touched； in part because he was frightened； and hungry for a little of her warmth； but also so that they might more easily whisper without attracting attention。
〃Who are those three dark ones？〃 he asked under his breath。
Miriamele shook her head。
The nearest of the black…robed figures slowly turned toward Maefwaru。 〃And these are for the Master？〃 it said。 The words were as cold and sharp as the edge of a knife。 Simon felt his legs weaken。 There was an unmistakable sound to the voice； a sour yet melodic accent he had heard only in moments of terror 。。。 the hiss of Stormspike。
〃They are；〃 said Maefwaru； nodding his blunt head eagerly。 〃I dreamed of the red…haired one some moons ago。 I know that the Master gave me that dream。 He wants this one。〃
The robed thing seemed to regard Simon for a moment。 〃Perhaps；〃 it said slowly。 〃But did you bring another as well； in case the Master has other plans for these？ Did