He turned to dive through the escape hole, but realised that there were no other attackers entering the bath house to join the fight, and assumed therefore that they had split up to search different parts of the complex. Considering the matter carefully, he raised his sword and finished off the three men who were not already dead, then dragged their bodies to the edge of the bath and dumped them in the water. Finally he quickly doused the bloodstained floor with water from a pale by the wall, so that it would not be too obvious that they had died fighting by the wall.

Pushing himself through the hole in the wall he joined his anxious companions and with Parvel pulled the stone block back into position, hoping its appearance on the other side would not give away their escape route.

For the next half hour they were crouched low and breathing the foul air of the sewers, wading ankle deep in waste water as they descended below the surface and followed the ancient tunnel below the complex walls until at last they emerged into the clean, fresh, cool night air.

'There is a stream nearby,' Parvel said. 'We can wash the filth off us.'

'Why did you help us?' Talbrik demanded.

'I told you. You said you were Marcellus of Barbessel, and I know that you are not. I have seen him.'

'That makes me your ally, does it?'

'In a way, yes. The followers of Khamen are committed to killing him.'

'Because I claim to be someone, and you know I am not him, that does not necessarily mean that you should help me. I might be his friend.'

'A friend does not take his friend's name. I will explain. There was, recently, to the north of Barbessel, a war between the plains bronzeskins of Pekeesh and the forces of the great general, Vitellius. Marcellus of Barbessel fought with the bronzeskins against Vitellius, and was responsible for his crushing defeat. Several times, as I understand it, Marcellus of Barbessel has foiled plans laid by Vitellius for the liberation of certain provinces of Heraklion, beginning with Horta, and culminating in the battle for Pekeesh. Vitellius has this vision of a united Heraklion under one ruling body, himself at the helm. He has raised armies wherever he goes, and many provinces, particularly on the western sub-continent, are now under his control. His campaign has moved here, to the mainland, where he reckoned on subduing first the plains bronzeskins because he thought them to be inferior, and primitive. But Marcellus managed to unite several of the tribes, and they fought a great battle some while ago, and Marcellus won. Vitellius' forces were repulsed and driven back into Hor-Lak. Now Vitellius is calling on all of his followers to back him and rid Heraklion of the interfering and meddlesome Marcellus. The cult of Khamen is a secret society devoted to undercover work. In Horta, the death of the great senator, Kestren II was laid at Marcellus's door because he was the last one to see him alive.'

'And where do you fit into all this?'

'I told you, I saw a man assassinate Octavius Kestren. I, along with the other followers of Khamen, are in the process of laying plots to capture Marcellus of Barbessel so that he can no longer wreck the plans of Vitellius.'

'And because I said I was Marcellus of Barbessel and you know I am not he, you decided that I must be an enemy of Marcellus and that you should help us to escape from your complex?'

'Yes.'

Talbrik turned away from Parvel, smiling, then suddenly struck him a vicious blow with his sword, running him through the heart where he stood. He collapsed, spitting blood, sinking into the mud of the stream. Avelline opened her mouth in horror, shielding Lienne's eyes from the horrific sight.

Talbrik, now refreshed and quite clean, staggered out of the water.

'Come on,' he grunted. 'We must get as far away from here as we can before daylight.'

He hurried off ahead of them, but they soon caught up with him.

'Why did you kill him? He helped us to escape!' Avelline said.

'He was leading us into a trap!' Talbrik said.

'You cannot know that!'

'Better to be safe than sorry.'

'He would have taken us to safety.'

'Maybe.'

'You have killed so many people in such a short time.....'

'I am an assassin, Avelline.'

'No, you are not. You are an ordinary man. Lienne persuaded you to adopt the guise of assassin.'

'I am not in the mood to argue with you. We need to get far away from those maniacs before daybreak.'

'Why did you not leave Lienne and me behind?'

'What are you talking about?'

'You evidently hold all human life cheaply. Why bring us along with you when you could have left us at the border, or in the complex. Why?' she demanded.

He spun round savagely, grabbing her by the shoulders.

'You are different!' he growled. 'You are women!'

'I am a whore, and she is just a young girl. You could travel so much faster without us!'

'I promised to protect you! So far that is just what I have done!'

'But why?' she pleaded. 'You owe us nothing.'

'It is because.....'

'What?'

'Nothing!' he grunted, and walked off. Lienne was a short way ahead of them both. They entered a small copse and sheltered there for the remainder of the night. Talbrik made a small fire and they crowded around it, Lienne resting her young head against Avelline's shoulders, asleep. She had heard nothing of their conversation, or so they believed. As the first rays of dawn broke they saw a range of hills, not enormous, easily climbed, and Lienne proclaimed that beyond them they would see the enormous walled city of Barbessel, towering over the western coast. They made breakfast, broke camp and went slowly up the hill. From the top the view was truly awesome, a majestic sweep down to rolling fields and lakes, and in the far distance, as she had predicted, the heather-covered slopes before Horta, the cradle of Herakian civilisation, dominating everything around it, and on their left, the ocean.

'I have never seen anything like it!' Avelline breathed.

'Nor I!' admitted Talbrik. Lienne was already halfway down the hill, at the bottom of which was a well-marked trail leading away north to the city. Already they could see that the land before Horta was cultivated, and people were working the fields even at this early hour, for it was only just light. Talbrik sat down, a piece of grass between his teeth. Lienne, looking back, saw that they had stopped, and called to them to follow, but they stayed where they were, and she started to climb back up to them.

'Why have you stopped?' Avelline asked.

'I want to get a few things straight before we go on to the city, and before Lienne gets back up here,' he said. 'In the first place, you are right, I am not an assassin, but I have taken on the mantle of assassin, for two reasons. Firstly, it seems to come naturally to me. Secondly, I was sent after a man, with orders to despatch him when I find him. If that does not make me an assassin.....in the second place, I gave you your freedom in Hethoum. You are free to go your own way as soon as we get to Horta. I have no claim on you, you are free.'

She blushed fiercely, and would not meet his eyes.

'Who is the man you were sent after?' she asked quietly.

'Marcellus of Barbessel.'

'Ah!'

'Everywhere I have been since leaving Ancyros I have heard his name mentioned. He must be quite a character.'

'What is he supposed to have done?'

'Abducted some women from the holy city of Prakussara. One of the men, an old man who claimed to be the father of two of the women abducted, he asked me to come in search of this Marcellus of Barbessel, and kill him.'

'That is why we have come to Barbessel, then?'

'That is why.'

'It does not explain why you had to kill so many people.'

'I have laid a trail of death from Ancyros to Barbessel, and on each occasion I have told everyone I am Marcellus of Barbessel. The whole area will be aware that Marcellus has been slaughtering people across the globe. There will be a price on his head, and people will have information regarding his whereabouts. When I find him, I will kill him.'

'Because that is what you are contracted to do.'

'Exactly.'

'And when you have killed him?'

'I will return to Prakussara to collect my fee.'

'You seem to have taken the role of assassin to heart very quickly. Killing has come easily to you.'

'That derives from my upbringing in the hills of Ancyros. There it was 'kill or be killed', or 'kill or starve'. I am no stranger to killing. I do not care much for the people I have killed, Avelline. That is why you are still alive.'

Lienne had almost reached them. Talbrik stood up abruptly and marched down the hillside to meet her. She threw her arms around him, laughing, and they carried on down the hill with Avelline a few paces behind them. At the bottom of the hill they picked up the trail leading to the city, passing through cultivated fields, in which peasants laboured with their crops and animals. Perhaps three miles away from the city, Talbrik stopped to speak to a group of men and women tending to their crop of root vegetables.

'Is there any news of Marcellus of Barbessel?' he asked them.

'The last I heard, he had fled the city after murdering the senator,' one old man said.

'In which direction?'

'Who knows? He could be anywhere by now. They will never capture him.'

'What makes you say that?'

'He has friends everywhere. My guess is that he will have made for Pekeesh.'

'That is north of here, is it not?'

'Yes, way up north, away from the coast, the great plains, where the bronzed savages live.'

'Who are you, anyway?' an old woman demanded. 'Are you a bounty hunter?'

'Something like that, yes.'

'Well don't expect us to help you!' the old woman said, spitting between Talbrik's feet.

'Why would that be?'

'None of your business!' she said, and turned her back on them. When they were past the farmers, Talbrik said,

'What do you make of that?'

'It is simple,' Avelline said. 'Marcellus of Barbessel is some kind of folk hero around these parts. They thought you were asking them to betray their hero.'

'I was.'

He was thoughtful for a time, then drew his sword and started back along the trail. Avelline ran after him, and caught him by the arm.

'What are you doing now?' she demanded.

He spun round to face her, laughing.

'I'm going back to kill a few of those peasants we were talking to. Then we will spread the rumour that Marcellus has been seen around here. Let the people have him as a folk hero then!'

'No!' Avelline screamed. 'I won't let you do it! They are simple farmers, peaceful and hard working. You cannot just destroy their lives to further their own ends!'

'I have done it all my life,' he said, and their was a dangerous glint in his eyes that she did not like. But still she did not let go of his arm. Lienne at last caught up with them, for she had been some way ahead of them on the trail to the city.

'What's going on?' she asked.

Avelline glared at Talbrik.

'If you cannot achieve what you are set to do without killing innocent people,' she said, 'then you should not call yourself an assassin!'

'All right,' he said, barely hesitating, and sheathed his sword. Without a further word he started off again for Horta. By nightfall they were within sight of the city gates, themselves some twenty feet high, set into walls five times as big.

'Enter now, or make camp outside and enter in the morning?' Talbrik mused, breaking his silence.

'They will not open the gates at night,' Lienne said.

'Then we will make camp.'

But as luck would have it, a covered wagon was approaching, driven by a huge man with a large girth, and accompanied by two young girls. And trotting behind the wagon came a young sea wolf, which none of them had seen before, and a young silth cub, obviously domesticated, and friend to the wolf, the two of them tethered to the back of the wagon. Talbrik raised his hand to stop the wagon, but kept his other hand close to the hilt of his sword.

'Hallo, strangers,' he said. 'Are you bound for the city?'

'It would appear that way,' the wagon driver said.

'Surely they will not open the gates at night?' Talbrik said.

'They will open the gates for me.'

'You are an important man, then?'

'Important enough for them to open the gates for me, yes.' Unseen by Talbrik and the two girls, one of the girls jumped down from the wagon and crept around behind them, taking out a long hunting knife.

'Can you fit three more into your wagon?' Talbrik asked, his hand moving nearer to the hilt of his sword as he spoke.

'I do not think so,' the big man said.

'Maybe you will change your mind,' Talbrik said.

'I do not know any of you. You might be brigands, though why you should loiter around outside the city gates at this time of night just waiting to be arrested, I can't think. But since I do not know you, I cannot take you into the city.'

'I think you will change your mind,' Talbrik said quietly.

'No, I do not think I will do that,' the big man said.

'I think you will change your mind when I tell you who I am.'

'Who are you?'

Avelline tugged at his sleeve, but he paid her no heed.

'I am Marcellus of Barbessel,' Talbrik said, presenting his face so that the scar given him by Swarbard was perfectly visible in the moonlight.

The big man on the wagon stared at Talbrik, frowning, then nodded his head.

'You are Marcellus of Barbessel?'

'I am.'

'Returned from a campaign in the deep south, then?'

'Exactly that, yes. Now, will you let us ride in your wagon?'

'No, I will not.'

Talbrik's eyes narrowed.

'You had better think swiftly about changing your mind, fat man.....'

'I have thought and I have reached the decision that I will not let you ride in my wagon,' the big man said.

Talbrik's hand went to his sword, but it was gone, taken silently and unnoticed by the young girl standing behind him. Instead, he felt the sharp blade of a long hunting knife pressed hard against his kidneys.

'What treachery is this!' he thundered. The big man dropped down from the wagon, surprisingly light on his feet for one with such a large frame. A window high up in the wall opened and someone leaned out.

'What is going on down there? Oh, sorry, general, I did not recognise you. Who are those people with you?'

'General!' breathed Talbrik. 'Vitellius, it must be Vitellius!'

'They are my prisoners. Open the gates,' the big man called. Standing before Talbrik, he was now revealed to be well over six feet tall, enormously huge and powerful, if a little fat around the belly. He was nearly bald, and his hands and arms were scarred from previous battles. He picked up Talbrik's sword and herded the two girls against the wagon.

'Your name, sir.'

'I am Marcellus of Barbessel,' Talbrik said.

'No, you are not,' the big man said. 'I know Marcellus of Barbessel personally. And you are not he. Your name, if you please, before they open the gates.'

'Talbrik, the assassin.'

'Talbrik the assassin.'

From inside the city they heard the rattle of chains and the opening of locks.

'I do not know whether to believe you or not. We do not get many assassins in these parts. What is, what was your mission? Whom were you contracted to assassinate?'

'Marcellus of Barbessel.'

The big man laughed heartily.

'It gets better and better!'

At last the gates swung open and a contingent of armed guards swarmed around them.

'General! Here, let me relieve you of your prisoners.'

'Thank you, Jorvennus. They are all yours. I will question them later.'

'Shall we also lock up the girls?'

'No, take them to my quarters and give them food and drink. They do not present a threat to the city. Give him food and drink too, but do not make him too comfortable.'

'I will not be held for long, fat man!' Talbrik said as the guards dragged him away. 'I have come to kill Marcellus of Barbessel, and I will not fail in that task!'

Not answering, the big man hauled himself back into his wagon and drove through the gates to the stables. He personally unleashed the two young animals and, with the two girls, went to his apartment behind the central keep of the great city of Horta.

'Bring some bread and cheese,' he said to one of the two girls. Both were about nineteen years old, one with honey blonde hair, the other auburn. The blonde girl, wearing only a thin cotton shift, cut revealingly across her chest and well above her knees, went off to prepare a simple meal for the three of them. There was a knocking on the door, and the captain of the guard led in Talbrik's two companions.

'All right, leave them here, Jorvennus. I will lock them up when I have finished questioning them.'

'General,' Jorvennus said, saluting. He turned to leave but the big man called him back.

'Is there any news of the renegade, Marcellus?' he asked.

'He escaped, sir.'

The big man nodded and dismissed the man. Avelline and Lienne stood by the door, watching him anxiously.

'Sit down, sit down,' he said, pointing to cushions on the floor.

'What are you called?'

'Avelline.'

'Lienne.'

'And where are you from?'

'From Hethoum.'

'Both of you?'

They nodded.

'And the man? The.....'assassin'? Is he your protector?'

'He befriended us,' Avelline said.

'In Hethoum?'

'Yes.'

'Where does he come from originally?'

'From Ancyros.'

'Ancyros. Then he may be an assassin, as he claims. Yet he does not wear the insignia of an assassin. How did he come to befriend you? Is he your owner?'

'I was a slave - a prostitute in a village in Hethoum. He rescued me from my owner, and freed me.'

The big man nodded.

'Bring me a drink, girl,' he said to Lienne.

'I am not a slave!' she cried, frowning.

'Not yet, no. Bring me a drink anyway, and be thankful I have not had you locked up too.'

Reluctantly Lienne fetched a carafe of wine from the table and poured a cup for the big man.

'You are very young. Are you related to either the 'assassin' or to her? Is she his lover?' he said, pointing at Avelline.

'No.'

'But our friend befriended you too? How did this come about?'

'He stole the wagon I was travelling in. He killed the men who had stolen it from its rightful owner. I was hiding in the back. He found me. At first he did not want me to stay with him, but I taught him a great deal about the countryside through which we were passing at the time. With my assistance, we got by.'

'He killed two men?'

'He killed many more than two!' Lienne said proudly. 'He killed an entire band of outlaws, Swarbard was their chief.....'

'Swarbard? He killed Swarbard? Go on, girl.'

'Say nothing more!' Avelline urged her, but Lienne was in full flight regarding her hero.

'Then we flew over the mountains into Barbessel and landed in a complex belonging to the Khamenians. They threatened to kill us all, so Talbrik killed some of them too!'

'He may be an assassin after all, then!' the big man said. 'If so, he must be contracted to kill someone. Do you know who?'

'Marcellus, Marcellus of Barbessel!' Lienne cried. 'That is why we are here!' The big man smiled, nodding his head.

'Good. Now I have plenty to go on when I question our friend the assassin in the morning. Right, that is all for now. My girls will show you to your quarters. Feel free to come and go as you please, you are not my prisoners. Avelline, you say that Talbrik the Assassin gave you your freedom in Hethoum?'

'He did.'

'You will need to get the mark of slavery removed from your thigh. I will arrange it in the morning.'

'You are taking my word for it that he gave me my freedom?'

'Why should I not believe you? You were a slave, were you not? You would not knowingly lie to me, would you?'

'No.'

'Very well, then. Through that door. Off you go.'

Lienne went through the door.Avelline hesitated.

'Is there something else?'

'I - we do not know your name, sir. Only that you are a general.'

'Why should you need to know my name? After tonight, our paths may never cross again.'

'Nevertheless, I would like to know who you are, and why you are treating us so well, not as prisoners. Also, I should like to know what is going to happen to Talbrik.'

'I will answer the second question gladly,' the big man said. 'I will personally question Talbrik at daybreak. If I am satisfied with his answers, he will be free to go, as you are now. I am only offering you hospitality now because I realise you could not make arrangements for somewhere to stay tonight.'

'You will not kill him, then?'

'Depends.'

'On?'

'On the way he answers my questions. You are attached to him, perhaps? I asked you if you were his lover, and your companion said that you were not.'

'I am not.'

'But given the chance, you would be?'

'He showed me great kindness, General.....'

'But there is something about him you are not sure of?'

'He has a carefree attitude to the people he kills. Almost as though he holds life, his own included, most cheaply.'

'And that is something you would like to change?'

'I would like to be given the opportunity.'

'Perhaps you will. Perhaps you will. Go now, Avelline, I have much work to do, and I have an early start in the morning.'

'Your name?'

'Better that you do not know it.'

'Is it Vitellius, by any chance?'

The big man threw back his head and laughed.

'No, it is not Vitellius, but I can understand why you might think it was. Now go. I am not going to tell you my name, and my girls will not tell it to you either, otherwise they will have to answer to me.'

'They are slaves?'

'Yes, they are slaves. Why do you ask? Do you have no slaves where you come from? But of course, you do! You were once a slave. For the time being, until someone has the foresight to abolish slavery on Heraklion, I prefer to keep mine. Now go away. You are beginning to annoy me. If you do not leave me in peace, I may change my mind about helping you to prove you are now a free woman. Go!'

Reluctantly, but seeing that the big man was in no mood to brook an argument, she left the room and was met immediately by the honey-blond haired girl. She thought once of asking the big man's name of the girl, but there had been something in his demeanour which had suggested that his 'girls' would never dare to give away something they had been told to keep secret, and thought better of it.

'Your hospitality is both generous and welcome,' she told the girl. 'Am I allowed to know your name, perhaps?'

'Oh, yes, there is no secret to that,' the girl replied with a smile. 'I am Hannei.'

'It is a pretty name. Not a Barbesselian name, surely?'

'No, it is not. It is from a part of the world you would never have heard of. I was abandoned there whilst a baby, by my father.'

'I am sorry. Have you since met up with him again?'

'I have, and wish that I never had.'

'Why?'

'He is the most evil man ever to walk this world!' Hannei said with a degree of vehemence. 'He is General Vitellius!'

'Then the big man, the general in there, he is not Vitellius?'

'Of course not! Whatever gave you such a ridiculous idea!' She left Avelline and went straight to the room where the big man sat, eating his supper.

'Publius Maximus,' she said, 'the girl thinks you are Vitellius!'

Publius Maximus laughed heartily.

'I know. Rich, isn't it! They come to a city like Barbessel and expect to find Vitellius here!'

'It isn't that silly!' Hannei said, her face serious. 'Vitellius must have been here within the last few years to engineer the breaking of the contract with Pekeesh.'

'Yes, I have been giving that some thought. It seems to me that a secret deal was struck between Kestren and Vitellius, which somehow persuaded my people against their instincts to side with Vitellius in the Pekeesh campaign. How it was done beats me, for it must have been done before I set off for Shar-Mak and got involved in the business with Marcellus across the western ocean. But I knew nothing of it, and I'll be damned if any of my friends knew anything of it either!'

Hannei crossed the room and sat on the floor before her master. He plunged his hands into her luxuriant hair, lifting it to his nose and breathing its delicious perfume.

'Where is Mirella?' he demanded.

'She is putting the little girl to bed. She is exhausted.'

'Lienne is exhausted, I hope, and not Mirella.'

'Of course that is what I meant.'

'Go to the chamber and get yourself ready. Call Mirella. Take her with you.'

'Both of us?' Hannei asked, her eyes widening.

'Certainly. It has been a long hard journey from Pekeesh, and I have a lot of business to attend to tomorrow. Tonight I intend to relax. Wear the white silk.'

He patted her affectionately on the backside as she clambered daintily to her feet and ran to the door.

'What will happen to the assassin?'

'No more questions tonight!' he growled. 'Tonight there will be only lovemaking! And plenty of it!'

As she closed the door behind her, Publius Maximus closed his eyes and put his hands together, raising his fingers to his lips. Many matters weighed heavily on his mind, in particular the annoying fact that he now knew he had missed Marcellus' return to Warikeewa camp by just a few days. And now he had the added worry that in the cells in the central keep was a man who was committed to hunt down and assassinate his very good friend, Marcellus of Barbessel, the only man who could be reasonably expected to save Heraklion from the tyranny of the elusive Vitellius. Then he heard giggling from the bedchamber, and his mind was instantly voided of political matters, and began to fix itself on the business of the pursuit of pleasure. Publius Maximus was a legend throughout Barbessel. He emptied the cup of wine and went out of the room to find the two girls awaiting him on his large and comfortable couch.