Oeuni said, "What did Baldy—is that the stage manager?—tell you anyway, sir? I was about to ask when Marin came, and if we're going to have two conflicting stories, it might be better if all of us knew both of them."
Noen nodded. "I think I can summarize it quickly enough. Like most theatrical companies, this one has a wizard to provide appropriate backgrounds for its performances and occasionally do a magic act as a curtain raiser. Theirs is an old man called Xobbas, a pleasant, harmless old fellow, according to Baldy, whose worst fault is that he sometimes produces the mountains for The Snow Lover when the company's supposed to do something else. He also has a hobby of altering his appearance—making himself taller, turning his beard orange, and so forth."
Oeuni and Rekkue nodded; Dinnile scratched his head.
"Baldy's worked with him for years, and he says he never changes himself enough to be unrecognizable; but now there are at least two other people going around looking like him. They discovered the first on the ship. Baldy had left a wizard—he thinks the real one—asleep in the passenger's quarters. He went on deck and saw a second standing in the bow. That could have been astral projection, but Xobbas had never done it before. Yesterday the leading woman—Marin here—and Nordread compared notes and found they'd each been talking to a wizard when their cue came for the second act of The Prince and the Piper. That's the play they've been rehearsing while they waited for rescue, and in that scene, as I understand it, they enter simultaneously from opposite sides of the stage."
Marin nodded.
"Furthermore, each got the impression that the person they'd spoken with wasn't really Xobbas. So that makes three wizards: the real Xobbas and the two frauds. The problem—one of the problems, anyway—is that no one has any idea who the other two can be. The other problem is that Xobbas isn't providing scenery any more. Baldy started as a stage wizard, so he's been doing it himself; but he's rusty and the castle comes and goes."
"Captain," Dinnile said, "I've got an idea. Tomorrow afternoon we ought to have the ship patched up. Then we can lighten Lady as much as we can, take Windsong out in the bay, set both anchors, and winch her off."
Noen nodded again.
"We put a crew, like a prize crew, on Lady to sail her back to Liavek. Well, as these players get on, all three wizards have got to get on too, don't they? So each time old Xobbas shows his face, we say prove it. He's got to prove he really is Xobbas, or he doesn't get on the ship."
Rekkue said softly, "Dinnile, I think somebody who could disguise himself as a wizard could disguise himself as somebody else too. Suppose there were two Dinniles? For that matter, how do we know the real Marin Monns isn't over there"—she jerked her head toward the unseen bulk of the Lady of Liavek—"sound asleep?"
The blond player laughed. "I should have known it would come to this. Would you like to hear me recite all my speeches from Piper? 'Most noble lords and commoners, have you not seen that when all else sinks, yet the crown swims? When Repartine the Great—'"
Noen raised a hand for silence. "I accept that you're who you say you are, and if I accept it so do my officers. What I want to know is why you said what Baldy told me was false, and how you know it."
"I didn't mean he was deliberately lying to you," Marin said, "but he's wrong. Since yesterday, I've talked to anyone who looked like the wizard anytime I saw him. And I..."
"Go on."
"I know him pretty well. He's a kindly old pot, and he still has an eye for the girls. He likes me because I give him a hug every so often, and when we have a cast party sometimes I sit on his lap." Marin paused, staring into the fire.
Oeuni said, "You blush beautifully, Marin. Please go on."
"Did the blood really come up in my cheeks? You sort of hold your breath and try and force the air up, but I've been having trouble with it. Anyway, I do know the old man, and that was how I knew the—the wizard I'd talked to while Nordread talked to the other one wasn't real. He was too..." Marin made a helpless gesture. "I guess I need a playwright to make up my lines. But Xobbas, the real Xobbas, is old and his mind isn't very clear. He forgets things, and when he feels sorry for himself he says so. Oh, I do, too, and so do lots of other people, but we try to be underhanded about it so you'll feel sorry for us too. Xobbas would just come right out with it like he was talking about somebody else, and this wizard wasn't like that at all. He didn't forget a thing, and I had the feeling he was laughing at me inside all the time."
Noen said, "I understand. What about the others?"
"One was cruel. I know he was! And old Xobbas was never like that. And one was frightened and tried to get away from me as fast as he could. That wasn't like Xobbas either, and Xobbas couldn't have walked that fast, no matter how bad he wanted to. And I think it's important you know that there are three, because what if it's the other two you find, and leave the cruel one? He isn't the real Xobbas either."
Oeuni took a deep breath, looked at Noen, and let it out again. "I've been a little hard on you, Marin," she said. "And I shouldn't have been—you really are trying to heIp. Is that all?"
The player nodded.
"Sir, is it all right if I take her back as far as the sentry lines?"
"Someone will have to take her back," Noen said. "I don't want her getting into mischief. It might as well be you."
When they had gone, Dinnile wiped his forehead. "By Rikiki, what a looker! And tricky as they come."
Rekkue nodded. "She could be dangerous, I think, starting fights among the crew just for the fun of it and so forth. Are Oeuni and I going to take Lady back to Liavek, Captain? If so, I'll try to keep an eye on her."
Noen said, "I don't know why, but I like her."
Dinnile chuckled. "Here's the time I've waited for, sir! The one when I know more than you."
There was a moment of silence, filled only by the crackling of the fire and the call of a jungle bird. Dinnile moved uncomfortably, clearly afraid that he had said too much; Rekkue started to speak but thought better of it.
Superficially impassive, Noen was secretly delighted. A captain necessarily walked a fine line between self-isolation and overfamiliarity with his officers, and he feared lately that he had swung too near the latter. Let them sweat—it was good for them and for the ship! He allowed the silence to grow until he saw his first officer returning, then called harshly, "Oeuni, you're the best judge of character I know. Why'd you change your mind about Marin?"
Rekkue put in, "I was saying how dangerous I thought she was. Was I wrong?"
Oeuni nodded slowly. "Yes, I think you were. I thought so too, at first—all that playacting. But Marin's too fond of showing off to be a real threat; at every moment she wants you to know how completely she fooled you the moment before. And what she said about there being three false wizards…"
Noen cleared his throat. "I thought that was it. You knew she was telling the truth. How did you know?"
"I didn't really know. But—remember late this afternoon, when I went looking for a tree big enough to anchor the winch? This jungle's only thick here at the edge, where it gets sun all the way down. Farther in, there's plenty of space between the trees, and moss and fern on the ground, mostly. I did some looking around while the hands were rigging the winch, and I found a grave."
Rekkue's gasp was distinctly audible.
"At least it looked like one. It was narrow, but long enough for a man, and the earth was fresh. I should have told you earlier, sir; but we were pulling Windsong onto the beach, and it didn't seem terribly important at the time."
Noen leaned forward. "We have four missing persons," he said, "though some of you seem to have forgotten it: Lady's captain, two of her crew, and the leader of the players, Amail Destrop. Dinnile, you were talking a moment ago as though we could refloat Lady and sail away without making an attempt to locate those people; would you want to be the one to tell Admiral Tinthe we might have left four subjects of Her Magnificence marooned? Now I think we've found out what happened to at least one of them."
Oeuni shook her head. "There was a slab of bark pushed into the loose dirt at one end," she said slowly. "A slab of bark with a letter scratched on it. The letter was X."
•
As they made their way between the jungle trees the next day, Noen wished he had refused to allow any of the players to come. He had left Rekkue in charge of both ships; young as she was, Rekkue was an able officer, and with Windsong and Lady of Liavek riding at anchor in the bay nothing remained to do but reload the material they had removed earlier to lighten them. Someone or something, he had argued with himself, had stolen Lady's crew; and if there was going to be fighting, he wanted Dinnile's strength and dauntless courage. As for Ler Oeuni, why, Oeuni was—he winced at his own expression—his right hand. He had brought fifteen steady sailors as well, each armed with a cutlass and a boarding pike.
Then the players had wanted to come, too—the same players, as Noen had reminded them at length, who had waited two days on the beach without making the least effort to find their missing captain and his hands, or even their own missing leader. But they had insisted, and he had made the error of permitting Baldy, Nordread (who might actually be of some use), Marin, and eight more players to accompany him. All were carrying halberds or swords, rusty yet serviceable; but Noen strongly suspected that at the least sign of danger they would drop them and bolt like rabbits.
Besides, he had an irrational feeling that by bringing them he had brought the three false wizards, too. Once, looking back through the trees at his straggling column, he had thought he had actually seen one, a bearded old man in a black robe and slouch hat. He had called a halt then, inspected the players a second time, and found no one who in the least resembled the flitting figure he had glimpsed. After that he had put Dinnile and two burly hands at the end of the column with orders to hustle along stragglers and keep their eyes open. They had seen nothing, or at least nothing they felt worth reporting. There had been no trace of Lady's missing captain, his sailors, or Amail Destrop.
Oeuni said, "You'd think it would be cool because of the shade, but I'd trade it for a sea breeze." Her face was bright with sweat.
For the hundredth time, he took out his handkerchief, mopped his own face, and studied the compass. "We should be nearly across the island now."
"We could have missed it easily enough, sir."
Noen had an uncomfortable feeling that despite her verbal support Oeuni did not really believe the white-walled building he had seen from Windsong's maintop existed. He said, "If so, we'll sweep the seaward side until we find it."
As soon as he had spoken, he realized he had been looking at it for the past few seconds. That pale blur to the left could be nothing else—too dim for sunshine, too regular for a natural rock mass, too light for foliage. Striving to keep any exultation from his voice and terrified he might yet be wrong, he added laconically, "Port two points, I think, Lieutenant."
It was a building more impressive for its beauty than its size, a perfectly proportioned rectangle of white marble surmounted by a dome of the same material. Once its marble walls had been carved in a tracery as fine as lace. Now pounding jungle rain had eroded the graceful curves to cobweb; vines clutched at the delicate threads of stone that remained, which bent backward as if fainting in their embrace. Strange letters, angular yet in harmony with the structure, bowed above its dark doorway.
Noen turned to the sailors, who were edging toward the building, curious but still mindful of discipline. "Can anybody read this?"
The hand who stepped forward had been a nomad of the Great Waste before signing aboard Windsong. "I can, sir. It's Old Tichenese: 'The Black Warrior Woman, Precious Helper of Men.'"
Oeuni whispered, "I can read something more, Noen. The vines have been cut away so somebody else could read the lettering."
Noen nodded absently, having made the same observation himself. It seemed probable, though not certain, that it had been done by Lady's captain, though— "Pass the word for Baldy, Lieutenant," he said. "No, make that all the players."
As they came crowding up he asked, "Did any of you know your captain well? Could he have read Old Tichenese?"
They looked at one another blankly. At last Nordread rumbled, "I doubt it, Captain. He didn't seem like an educated man. Amail and I dined with him once or twice."
"What about the sailors he took with him?"
"I suppose there's always a chance, but..."
"What about Destrop? Could he read Old Tichenese?"
Nordread snorted. "Absolutely not, Captain."
"I see."
Greatly daring, Oeuni said, "Well, I don't, sir."
Noen pointed. "You or I would have cut away enough to discover we couldn't read the inscription and stopped. Somebody's cleared every word. He could read them, so he wanted to see the entire—Dinnile, what the blazes is wrong with you?"
The second mate slapped his leg again and looked apologetic. "Ants, sir. There's a whole line of ants, and I stepped in 'em, sir, not noticing."
"Noen, they're going into the temple."
He nodded, winding his wheellock. "I imagine there's an altar in there, and we're about to find a recent sacrifice on it." He wondered whether it would be a human sacrifice—with four people missing it seemed almost inevitable—but thought it best to keep the speculation to himself. "See that everyone stays here. That's an order."
Three shallow steps led up to the doorway. He paused there to study the dim interior before entering. Nothing moved except the line of ants vanishing into the shadows. There was no altar and no sacrifice, only a statue on a pedestal.
Two more strides showed him that it was, as seemed logical, a beautiful woman carved in black stone. The crest surmounting her helmet was a bird with outspread wings. He moved nearer to examine it, and one of the squares of the tessellated floor gave ever so slightly under his feet.
As he stepped hastily back, his heel struck something that rolled clattering nearly to the wall. He turned to look at it and saw that Dinnile was standing in the narrow doorway, with Oeuni trying to crowd past him. "Rotten stink in here, sir," Dinnile said cheerfully.
Noen nodded. "I think I've just discovered why." He crossed the wide room and picked up the skull he had kicked, then dropped it at once. Despite its tumble over the floor, it was black with ants.
Dinnile took a step and Oeuni rushed past him, the sword she now wore at her right side clutched in her left hand.
"Recent," Noen said. "The ants aren't finished with it yet." He gestured toward two more skulls, clean and white, lying in a corner among a pile of bones. "He—or she—was probably killed last night."
"Aye aye, sir," Oeuni said. Then, "Noen..."
"What is it?"
The point of her sword was probing the back of the skull. "I've seen animals sacrificed. There was a fire, and they cut off the heads and hooves and threw them in, and then the skin and some of the organs. Then whoever had paid for each animal gave part of the meat to the priests and kept the rest. And for magic, when they sacrifice a little animal, don't they usually burn the whole thing?"
Noen nodded. "So I've heard."
"Someone's opened the back of this to get at the brain."
Dinnile had been examining the floor while Oeuni looked at the skull. Now he said, "Captain, here's a crown here."
Noen turned, not sure he had heard correctly. "A crown?"
"Like the one on the shah, in that game." Dinnile looked sheepish at the mere mention of it; he was a poor player, and Noen, an excellent one, sometimes invited him for a game when Oeuni was on watch. "And next to it's a wizard's hat, sir, and next to that's the warrior's horse."
Noen hurried over.
"See what I mean, sir? It's like the whole place's just a big shah board. Only the only piece left's the black sultana, and that's it over there."
Oeuni kicked aside bones to examine the floor on her side of the room. "He's right, Noen. There are pictures here too, for the white pieces. But the game's already started—
some of them have been moved. And the squares move too, a little, when you stand on them. That must be how you invoke the goddess."
Noen stared at her. "Invoke the goddess?"
"Well, this place is obviously a temple, and there's no altar and so on. So what does she want us to do? It must be to play this game, putting a worshiper on each square for a piece. Then she's the black sultana, as Dinnile said." Oeuni paused. "If we did it, maybe she'd help us."
''I'm not so sure we need help. Windsong's patched and both ships arc in the water again. As for Lady's captain and his crew, I'm afraid we've found them."
From the doorway, Baldy said, "Maybe you don't, Captain, but we do as long as Amail's missing."
Oeuni added, "And what about whatever took the sailors, Noen? Suppose it's still on Lady? I know invoking a goddess is liable to be dangerous, but she must be a good goddess—remember what it says outside? 'Precious Helper of Men'?"
Baldy came into the temple, looking curiously at the statue and the designs on the floor. "If you won't, Captain, we will."
The very impracticality of the idea decided Noen. "You haven't got enough people. You'd have to go back to the beach and get the rest, and even that might not be enough. It would take all day, and I intend to sail with the dawn wind." He turned to his first mate. "All right, Oeuni, I'm no priest and you're no priestess, but we'll try. Get them all in here. Dinnile, you're the tallest; I want you for the white shah. Where's that fellow Nordread? Nordread, you're the black shah. Marin, you're the white sultana—stand there beside Lieutenant Dinnile."
Oeuni said, "One black soldier's been taken, Noen, so we can use the hands for soldiers—there should be just enough. And the players in armor for warriors, and there are four tall women for towers." She gestured toward one of the armored thespians. "Here, you! You're a black warrior. Stand on this mark, in front of the sultana's wizard's soldier. Su, line up those hands on the symbols; I want the other black warrior in front of the shah's tower's soldier. Sir, I need a white soldier three squares in front of Nordread."
Noen nodded and sent a woman over. "I'll play white, Lieutenant. You play black. I must say it looks to me as though white has the better position, besides a lead of one soldier."
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