Cara looked worried enough by the answer not to object.

"I don't know, Adie," Verna said. "I really would like you to be here, and safe."

"Let her go," Cara said.

When everyone looked at her in surprise, she went on. "What if she's right? What if Lord Rahl does show up at the Keep? He will need to know everything that has happened. He will need to know that he shouldn't enter the Keep or he could get himself killed by the traps Zedd set in the place.

"What if Lord Rahl needs her help? If she thinks he might need her. then she should be there for him. I wouldn't want anyone to stop me from helping him."

"Besides," Berdine said as she shared a sad look with the old sorceress, "there is nothing safe about this place. She will probably be safer than any of us here. When that army down there finally gets in the palace, it's going to be anything but safe in here. It's going to be one long bloody nightmare."

Adie smiled as she reached out and touched Berdine's cheek. "The good spirits will watch over you, child, and all those here."

Verna wished she believed that.

She wondered what she was doing being the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light if she didn't.

CHAPTER 32

As he finished touching up their red battle paint, Richard tried not to let the men see how painful his injuries really were. He didn't want any-thing to distract them from the job ahead.

His ankle throbbed, his left shoulder was sore, and the hits he'd taken to his head had left his neck muscles aching. After the brief but furious fight he hadn't been able to get much sleep. As far as he could tell, though, nothing was broken.

He mentally set the pain and weariness aside. It didn't matter if he hurt, or if he was tired. He had a job to do. It only mattered if he did it, if he succeeded.

If he failed he would have all eternity to sleep.

"Today we have our chance for glory," Johnrock said.

Richard, holding Johnrock's chin, turned the man's head to the side a little so that he could see better in the failing light. He didn't say anything. He leaned to the side and dunked his finger in the bucket of red paint and then added a symbol for watchfulness above the one for power that was already there. He wished he knew a symbol for common sense so he could paint it all over Johnrock's skull.

"Don't you think, Ruben?" Johnrock pressed. "Today we have our chance for glory?"

The rest of the men all listened quietly for what Richard might say.

"You know better, Johnrock. Get those thoughts out of your head."

Richard paused in his work and swept the finger, coated in fresh red paint, around at all the eyes watching him.

"All of you know better, or at least you should. Forget thoughts of glory. Those men on the emperor's team aren't thinking of glory right now- they're thinking of killing you. Do you understand that? They want to kill you.

"This is a day we have to fight to stay alive. That's the glory I want: life. That's the glory I want for all of you. I want you to live."

Johnrock's face twisted in disbelief. "But Ruben, after those men tried to bash in your head last night you must want to settle the score."

The men all knew about the attack. Johnrock had told them all about it-told them how their point man had fought off five of the big men all by himself. Richard hadn't disputed the account, but he wasn't letting on as to how much he hurt. He wanted them worrying about their own necks, not wondering if he could hold up his end.

"Yes, I want to win," Richard said, "but not for glory, or to settle a score. I'm a captive. I was brought here to play. If we win I live-simple as that. That's all that really matters: living. Ja'La players-both captives and soldiers-die in games all the time; in that sense we are equals. The only true glory in winning in these games is the part about living."

Some of the other captive men nodded their understanding.

"Aren't you just a little worried about defeating the emperor's team?" Bruce, his left wing man, asked. "Beating the emperor's team might not be the right thing to do. After all, they represent the power of the Imperial Order, and the emperor. Beating them might be seen as prideful and arrogant, even sacrilegious."

All eyes turned to Richard.

Richard met the man's gaze. "I thought that under the Order's teachings everyone was equal."

Bruce stared back a moment. A smile finally spread across his face. "You have a point, Ruben. They are just men, like us. I guess we ought to win, then."

"I guess so," Richard said.

At that, just as Richard had taught them, the men, as one, let out a collective bellow of agreement, a brief, deep roar of team spirit. It was a small thing, but it served to bond the men, to make them feel that, while they were all very different individuals, they all had a common goal.

"Now," Richard went on, "we haven't seen the emperor's team play, so we don't know their tactics, but they've watched us play. As far as I've been able to tell, teams don't usually change the way they play, so they will be expecting us to do the same things they've seen us do in the past. That's going to be one of our advantages.

"Remember the new plays we devised for each signal. Don't fall back to the old plays for a signal or it will cross us up. Those new tactics are our best chance to keep them off balance. Concentrate on doing your part in each of those moves. That's what will get us points.

"Remember, too, that these men, besides wanting to win, are going to be trying to hurt us. The teams we've been playing knew that what they gave they got back double. These men are different. They know that if they lose they will be put to death, just like the emperor's last team was when they lost. They have no incentive to play clean. They have every incentive to try to tear our heads off.

"There is no doubt in my mind that they're going to try to take out our players, so be ready for it."

"You're the one they're going to be trying to take down," Bruce pointed out. "You're the point man. You're the one they need to stop. They even tried to eliminate you last night before you could reach the Ja'La field."

"That's all true, but as point man I at least have you and Johnrock protecting me. Most of you men have no protection but your wits and your skill. I think they're just as likely to go after one of you, first, so don't let your guard down for a second. Keep an eye on each other and intervene if need be."

In the distance Richard could hear the rhythmic chanting of countless soldiers eager for the match to start. It sounded like the entire camp was chanting. Richard suspected that every man not forced to work on the ramp, while if not all able to actually see the match, would probably at least be waiting for word to relay back to them.

More men than usual were going to be able to see this game because the emperor had directed the work gangs, who needed material for the ramp anyway, to scoop dirt from a large area to create a bowl in the Azrith Plain. The new Ja'La field, with its vast, gently sloped sides, would enable far more men than ever before to be able to watch Ja'La games.

Richard had thought that their game with the emperor's team would have been held that afternoon, that it would have already taken place, but the day had worn on as other teams played in games leading up to the match for the championship. The games, after all, were show for the soldiers. The new Ja'La field was the emperor's statement-right below the People's Palace-that the Order was here to stay and now owned the place.

Richard glanced up at the iron gray overcast. The last feathery violets of the sunset had vanished. It was going to be a dark night.

Richard hadn't counted on it being this late when the game started, but night suited him just fine. In fact, it was the one unexpected bit of good fortune in the face of the monumental obstacles that lay before him. He was used to the dark. As a woods guide he often walked the trails of his woods with only the moon and stars to light his way. Sometimes it was just stars. Richard was comfortable in darkness.