Ecbatana, Persia

A rad sat in deep shade, his hands in his lap, wearing little more than a kilt of black cotton and a leather belt. He sat in a gazebo nestled in a garden behind the old palace. The hoary old granite pile of the palace itself and its halls and chambers lay just to the south. Here, encircled by the walls of the citadel and- on the east and north- by the outer rampart of the city, there was a tiny space filled with flowers and fruit trees and ornamentals of all kinds. In these later days, it had seen little use and many of the plants had gone to seed, or run wild, giving the garden an overgrown look.

The gazebo was old and many of the painted latticework boards were rotting away. Still, within its domed space, ringed about by flowering vines and rosebushes, there was as much privacy and solitude as could be found in the citadel. When the twin Empresses had taken up residence, they had filled half of the old palace with their servants and courtiers and hangers-on. Now that the Lord Dahak had come with his army, every inch of the citadel was filled to bursting with his followers. Every nook and cranny and larder had someone sleeping in it.

Each day, now that the word had gone out that the Birds of Paradise had gained a patron of strength, more of the great lords of the landthe spabahadan and the mobeds- appeared at the gates. Each came with a strong guard and many servants, richly dressed and filled with surety of their own importance. Those men were forced to wait, for the twin Empresses had a sufficiency of things to do with their time now that Dahak had settled between them like a sheltering eagle. The idlers of the court had found little shrift in the new regime and all that remained were Dahak's men, or those who bowed before him.

In the late afternoon, as the sun settled in the west and the sky began to darken, the Empresses were wont to sit in the gazebo, surrounded by their maid-servants, in the company of their newly beloved uncle. In this time, the spabahadan were allowed an audience, one nobleman at a time, without any advisors or retainers. The Birds of Paradise would interview, it was understood, and choose those whom they would grace with favor.

This was such a time and Arad sat in the shadows at the rear of the gazebo, silent and still, watching with unwavering eyes.

The Lord Dahak sat at ease on a chair of ivory at one side of the gazebo proper. It was draped with a cloth of black silk but bore no other cushion. As was his wont, the sorcerer was dressed in long robes of black and deep gray, with his hair tied back behind his head by a thin scarlet ribbon. Since he had come among the lowland peoples, his appearance had subtly changed, now the seeming of a nobleman lay upon him and his eyes were a dark brown that matched his hair. He wore little jewelry save a single ring on one hand and sometimes, like today, a brooch of worked gold to clasp his cloak at his shoulder. A glass of wine sat close by the chair on a four-legged table of simple wood. Arad had never seen him drink from it.

The change in the twin Empresses was more remarkable, more so that no one in the palace save Arad- and, one presumed, Dahak- had marked upon it. Today, sitting in the slatted sunlight, with a slight breeze passing through the gazebo, each sat at ease on wide chairs of gold and porphyry. They enjoyed silk cushions and glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade cooled by shaved ice. Each wore a simple high-necked traditional gown, finely cut from sheer pale yellow silk. Polished emeralds glittered at their ears and necks, accenting a simple necklace and earrings of beaten gold. Their hair was swept back, making a swan's wing over their shoulders and bound behind in a net of golden thread anchored by garnets. The thick makeup that had turned their faces into masks when Arad had first seen them was gone. A trace of color accented their dark eyes and almost invisible powders smoothed their cheeks, but no more.

Beyond this, each seemed to glow from within with an alluring beauty. Compared to the staggering wealth that they had displayed before, now they showed simple elegance. The plain appearance that they had fought against with overwrought display was gone, replaced by something that drew the hearts of men like a magnet. The scaled black bracelet that Dahak had brought rode like a scepter on Azarmidukht's wrist. So too did Purandokht wear hers as a beloved token. Not too much time passed when they did not, consciously or unconsciously, touch the slick dark metal. Their servants sat quietly, out of the way but ready for a motion or a word to summon them.

The diquan Piruz, who had watched the western gate when Arad first entered the city, knelt before the Birds of Paradise. Many great lords had passed this way before his turn had come, but their names and ranks and provinces were meaningless to Arad. Now, with this halfremembered face before the court, the man in the shadows roused himself to pay attention.

"Lord Piruz, welcome," Azarmidukht began, making a slight incline with her head. "Our regrets that we have not spoken with you before. Things have been so busy of late. Pray, tell us of yourself, your lands, and your dreams."

The nobleman blushed, unable to meet the liquid brown eyes of the Empress, and stared down at the worked tesserae of the gazebo floor. It was a hunting scene in green and brown and gold. Men on fine white horses plunged through hedgerows and brush, bows drawn, long-bodied hounds at their feet. Their prey, snarling and rampant, were lions. Arad could see sweat beading Piruz' neck, just above the collar of his ornately embroidered tunic. He was very nervous.

"Flame of the East," he bowed to Azarmidukht.

"Radiance of the World," he turned and bowed to Purandokht. "I come from the furthest eastern reach of your great Empire, from the frontier city of Balkh. We are far from your glorious court, but we are loyal Persians. We hold the fords of the Oxus against the Huns and other barbarians of the north: " Arad turned his attention away. It was an old and sorry business- the young lord desired a wife and set his sights high. The Empresses sought husbands as well, but Arad did not think that this border chieftain held lands enough, men enough, or riches enough to entice them.

It was enough that the Lord Dahak was watching the northerner closely, his mind and will intent on the man. Arad settled within himself, drawing back his attention and thought from the world without. The sun between the slats of the gazebo faded, as did the sound of singing birds and the smell of hyacinth and roses. He took it slowly, letting his connection with the outer world fade, releasing even conscious control over his limbs until his ka was distilled into an insignificant mote, deep within his corporeal form.

Here, in this black abyss, he was free of the sorcerer and his binding. There was nothing that he could control or touch or affect, but the chill presence of that reptilian mind was gone. This was reward enough! Arad felt sure that he could abandon his body and life entirely by retreating here forever. He considered it now, as he had done each day since he had found this refuge. If he ceased to exist, then a powerful weapon would be denied the malignant being.

Too, dreams and phantasms emerged from the darkness. A woman came to him, her black hair a cloud shot with a golden crown, smiling, bright blue eyes flashing. His heart soared to see her, though he could not touch her hand or cheek. The faces of men wavered in his thought- an Arab, his dark beard framing a smiling face- a boy with long red braids- these had been his friends, when his flesh was warm and his heart beat. Here, in memory, he could be with them always, free of pain and hurt.

But if he fled, then there would be no chance, no possibility that Arad could ever break the bonds upon his mind and avenge himself upon the dark power. If he abandoned the struggle and gave up the hope of escape, then the thing in the shape of a man would have won another kind of victory.