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She looked up at him。 〃I cannot doubt you now。 Dirk Dulain。 You tell your tale with too much will； only one who has suffered as we have could feel so much hate。〃 She reached out and took his hand。 〃I have helped you only with an ill will； so far； but now； we will be together in this。 With all my will…and； I think； my heart。〃
Dirk sat； frozen by the spark…gap of her touch； fighting to contain the sudden surge of elation； to clear the subtle distortion that seemed to have e over the room。
Then he remembered that Gar wasn't around at the moment； and reason returned。
The innkeeper came up with two roasted birds； and Dirk dropped Madelon's hand…with； it must be admitted； a little relief。
The fowls were small and they were both very hungry； so conversation lapsed while they both paid tribute to the cook。 When the bulk of the meat was gone。 Dirk shoved his plate away with regret…picking the bones wasn't seemly for gentlefolk。 Madelon looked up； caught on； and； for once； followed his lead。
Dirk reached forward and refilled both glasses for the third time。 〃Next？〃
〃We wait。〃 Madelon sat back and sipped。 〃It shouldn't be long。〃
It wasn't。 A wiry； fox…faced man with a bolt of cloth materialized at their table。 〃Here are the goods you wished to see； Lady。〃
Madelon looked up with only the slightest trace of surprise。 She recovered quickly and unrolled a yard or so； spreading it out over her lap and feeling； pinching； running her hands over it。 〃Yes； it is excellent stuff； but the color is not quite right。 I wish a little more red in it。〃
〃Ah！〃 The tailor nodded vigorously； as though she had confirmed a personal opinion of his own。 〃I know just the bolt。 Lady…but it is at my shop。 Will you e？〃
Madelon rose and headed for the door； the tailor at her elbow。 Dirk lingered long enough to drop several gold coins on the table…far more than the cost of the meal； but revolutions need financing…and jumped to catch up。
They went down the street； Madelon and the tailor side by side； chattering happily about cloth； cutting； and draping in a jargon that meant about as much to Dirk as a language of supersonic emanations put out by silicate life…forms。 He followed after； totally bemused。
A band shot out from an alley to touch Madelon's elbow。 Without the slightest pause； she turned into the alley； as though she'd planned on it all along。 So did Dirk。 The tailor hurried on by。
As Dirk turned the corner； their guide was taming away…a stocky sandy…haired youth with the badge of a smith's apprentice on his sleeve。 Dirk regained some measure of self…confidence； the pattern was familiar。 〃I will lead you to a man who will lead you 。 。 。〃 The tailor would never be able to say where his two charges had gone because he didn't know； he'd be able to say only where the next guide had picked them up。 He couldn't even tell who the new guide was。
As they came to the end of an alley； another hand shot out of a doorway； touching Madelon's elbow； again she turned and followed without breaking stride。 Dirk followed her while the second guide went on by。 The door opened onto a stairway； and they went down into a basement。 Their guide shoved a hogshead aside； revealing a hole in the wall。 Madelon stooped and went through。 Dirk right behind her； behind him； the hogshead rolled back into place。 Their next guide was waiting with a candle。
They followed。 Dirk slightly stupefied by the Guild's coordination。 True； they'd had centuries to lay out this route and rehearse the system； but still it was eerie； as though the guides could read each other's thoughts。 But Dirk knew； from statistics； genetics； and his own experience； that there couldn't be that many intelligent telepaths on the planet…or at least； not in one town。
Four guides； one alley； two cellars； and a tunnel later； they emerged into a large granite chamber with tapestries on the walls； a rich carpet on the floor； and a finely carved； polished set of table and chairs in the middle。 A chandelier with four oil lamps hung over the table； lighting the room brightly （by local standards）。
Dirk looked around； frowning。 There was no guide； so presumably this was the end of the trip； but who were they supposed to talk to？ 〃Where's our host？〃
〃He will e presently；〃 Madelon sat down at the table and reached for the bottle of brandy in its center。 〃Don't fret so。 Dirk Dulain…we've five days yet。〃
Dirk wavered； glaring at her； then he threw himself into a chair and reached for the brandy。
He was beginning to feel remarkably peaceful by the time a hidden latch clicked and their host walked into the room。
Dirk eased around in his chair； smiling affably。 He saw a tall； stout Merchant in a long burgundy robe over an ochre tonic and pate blue hose。 He was round…faced； jowly； with small； hard eyes and a grim； puckered mouth。 Over the robe； he wore a baldric embroidered with arcane symbols。
Dirk's smile vanished； be recognized that insignia。 He was looking at the Grandmaster of the Guild。
Madelon came to her feet 〃I am Madelon； my home village is Marcire； on the estates of Lord Busset。 I am。。。〃
The Guildmaster nodded； cutting her off。 〃I know you； Madelon； I have word from those who have met you。 You bear words between the outlaws and the women of the houses。 But who is he？〃
Dirk stood slowly； as Madelon said； 〃He is from our friends in the sky。。。〃
〃Triends？〃' The Guildmaster mocked； turning to Dirk。 〃What do you here； sky…man？〃
〃We're not just friends； we are kin。〃 Dirk held his anger carefully。 〃I am Dirk； son of Tobin； born in the village Dulain on the estates of Lord Core。〃
The Master's mouth quirked with impatience。 〃I know it well； I have helped enough of you escape when you were children。 But it is in my mind that you forget us。 You go away and e back only rarely； with the signs of good living upon you； and we never have any good of you。〃
〃You shall；〃 Dirk said； breathing ice； 〃when The Day es。〃
〃So you say。〃
〃So we shall prove…and； I think； soon。〃
The Master's scowl deepened suddenly； to troubled brooding。 〃Yes。。。 so it would seem。 It is in the air。。。。〃
〃What signs have you seen？〃 Dirk pounced。
The Master shrugged； irritated。 〃Signs？ Who would see signs？ If the Lords saw any sign…even hope in a churl's eyes…The Day would be doomed before it began。 But everyone knows it； everyone feels it。〃
Only what he already knew； and no more。 Dirk felt disappointed。 For a moment； he let his mind reel into fantasy； imagining psionic transmitters； broadcasting a steady emotion of Something Big ing； goading the churls to frenzied revolt。 Then he jolted himself back to reality。
Which the Master promptly yanked out from under him。 〃There is rumor the Wizard walks among us again。。。。〃
Superstition！ Dirk pressed his lips tight to hold back the anger。 〃Anything else？〃
〃Each churl is digging up his ancestors' weapon…hoard； and testing the blades； then reburying them。〃 The Master shrugged。 〃And there is rumor that two outlaw couriers were slain by Soldiers； then waked to life again。〃
Dirk