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ncellor of Ragosa…or anyone else…dictates where and when I travel？〃
〃Good！〃 said Rodrigo。 〃I have been waiting a long time to hear you say that！ A winter campaign will be an excellent trial for all of us。〃
〃I didn't say…
〃Won't you e？〃 he said。 〃Jesting aside； Jehane； I badly need a good doctor； and I still remember something you said； about working among Esperanans。 Will you give us a chance to prove a point about that？〃
Jehane remembered it too。 She remembered that night extremely well。 Even the sun goes down； my lady。 She turned her mind from that thought。
〃What？〃 she said； sardonically。 〃Are there no pilgrims heading to blessed Queen Vasca's Isle this year？〃
〃Not from my pany；〃 said Rodrigo quietly。
There was a silence。 He had a way of stilling you； she thought。
〃You might also consider that a campaign outside the city would give you a respite from ben Avren's attentions；〃 said ibn Khairan； a little too casually。
She spun to glare at him。 His hands came up again； defensively。 〃Assuming； of course； you want a respite；〃 he added quickly。 〃He's a remarkable man。 A poet； a chancellor； a genuine scholar。 Prince of the Kindath。 Your mother would be proud。〃
〃If I let him bed me？〃 she asked sweetly。
〃Well no； not that； I suppose。 I was thinking of something more formal； of course。 Something 。。。 〃
He stopped； having registered the look in her eyes。 His hands came up for a third time； as if to block an assault。 His rings glittered。
Jehane glared at him； her own fingers curled into fists。 The problem was； she kept wanting to laugh； which made it difficult to cling to outrage。 〃You are in grave trouble if you happen to get sick on this campaign；〃 she said grimly。 〃Did no one ever warn you not to offend your doctor？〃
〃Many people； many times；〃 Ammar admitted ruefully。 〃I'm just not a responsible man； I fear。〃
〃I am；〃 said Rodrigo cheerfully。 〃Ask anyone！〃
〃Only；〃 she snapped over her shoulder； 〃because you're terrified of your wife。 You told me so！〃
Ibn Khairan laughed。 A moment later； so did Belmonte； his color high。 Jehane crossed her arms； refusing to smile； scowling at both of them。
She felt extraordinarily happy； though。
The temple bells chimed； beyond the rooftops south of them； bright and clear in the cold night； to awaken the devout for prayer。
〃Go home；〃 said Jehane to both men； looking into the infirmary。 〃I have patients to check on。〃
They glanced at each other。
〃And leave you here alone？ Would your mother approve？〃 asked ibn Khairan。
〃My father would；〃 Jehane said crisply。 〃This is a hospital。 I am a doctor。〃
That sobered them。 Ibn Khairan bowed； and Belmonte did the same。 They left； walking together。 She watched them go； standing in the doorway until they were swallowed up by the night。 She stood for another moment there； staring at the darkness before going into the infirmary。
The Karcher with the fractured arm still slept。 It was what he needed。 She had given him absinthe for pain； and her father's mixture to help him rest。
She woke the other man gently； with the attendants on either side of his pallet。 Sometimes they were violent when awakened。 These were fighting men。 The Batiaran knew her； though； which was good。 She had them hold up a torch for her and she looked at his eyes： cloudy still； but better than before and he followed her finger when she moved it before his face。 She put a hand behind his head and helped him drink： cloves； myrrh and aloes； for what had to be a brutal headache。
She changed the dressing on his wound； then withdrew to the other side of the room while the attendants helped him pass water into a beaker for her。 She poured the urine into her father's flask and studied it against the candlelight。 The top layer； which told of the head； was mostly clear now。 He was going to be all right。 She told him as much； speaking in his own language。 He sank back into slumber。
She decided to snatch a short rest in the infirmary after all。 They made up one of the beds for her and drew a screen in front of it for privacy。 She removed her boots and lay down in her clothing。 She had done this many times。 A doctor had to learn to sleep anywhere； in whatever brief snatches of time were allowed。
Just before she dropped off； a thought came to her： she had； it seemed； just agreed to leave the forts of city and court to go out on a winter campaign…wherever that expedition turned out to be going。 She hadn't even asked them。 Nobody went on winter campaigns。
〃You idiot；〃 she murmured aloud； aware that she was smiling in the darkness。
In the morning the Batiaran remembered his mother； knew where he was； the day of the week and the sub…manders of his pany。 When she asked； a trifle unwisely； about his father's name； he flushed a vivid crimson。
Jehane took pains to show no reaction at all； of course。 She swore a silent oath to herself； on the spot； in the name of Galinus； father of all physicians； that she would die before telling Ammar ibn Khairan or Rodrigo Belmonte about this。
That oath； at least； she kept。
Nine
The wind was north。 Yazir could taste salt in the air； though they were half a day's ride across the Majriti sands from the sea。 It was cold。
Behind him he could hear the flapping of the tents as the wind caught and tugged at them。 They had e this far north and set up a camp to meet with their visitor。
On the coast； out of sight beyond the high； shifting dunes； lay the new port of Abeneven； whose walls offered shelter from the wind。 Yazir ibn Q'arif would rather be dead and with Ashar among the stars than winter in a city。 He shrugged deeper into his cloak。 He looked up at the sky。 The sun； no menace now at the brink of winter so far to the north； was a pale disk in a sky of racing clouds。 There was a little time yet before the third summons to prayer。 They could continue this discussion。
No one had said a word； however； for some time。 Their visitor was clearly unsettled by that。 This was good； on the whole； unsettled men； in Yazir's experience； revealed more of themselves。
Yazir looked over and saw that his brother had pulled down the veil that covered the lower half of his face。 He was breaking beetle shells and sucking at the juices inside。 An old habit。 His teeth were badly stained by it。 Their guest had already declined the offered dish。 This； of course； was an insult； but Yazir had gained some insight into the manners of their brethren across the straits in Al…Rassan； and was not unduly perturbed。 Ghalib； his brother； was a more impetuous man； and Yazir could see him dealing with anger。 The visitor would not be aware of this； of course。 Their guest； miserably cold； and obviously unhappy with the smell and feel of the camel hair cloak they had presented him as a gift； sat unfortably on Yazir's meeting blanket and sniffled。
He was ill； he had told them。 He talked a great deal； their visitor。 The long journey to Abirab and then along the coast to this wintering place of the Muwardi leaders had afflicted him with an ailment of the head and chest； he had explained。 He was shivering like a girl。 Ghalib's contempt was