double crescent! The knowledge shocked home like a spear-thrust, and Alfric sat silent for a long moment with the wind ruffling his night-black hair. The double crescent—the sign of the Two Moons—that meant the slaves were Temple property. They'd been under orders of the priesthood of the Moons, which was the old Imperial faith and still the state religion of Valkarion. But if the Temple sent out assassins— Alfric's eyes traveled up to Amaris, the farther moon, high in the darkening heavens. The nearer one, Dannos, had not yet risen—out of the west, as was its strange wont—but its rocket-like speed would carry it up to and beyond the farther before dawn. Aye—aye, now he remembered that tonight the moons would mate. On such nights the Temple no doubt had great ceremonies afoot; perhaps this matter of the assassination was involved in some religious proceeding. Whispered legend and the moldering history books alike agreed that the turning points of the old Empire's fate had come on nights when the moons mated. No doubt that still held good for the withered remnant of territory which Valkarion still ruled. The moons were not important in the religion of the Aslakan barbarians, whose chief gods were the wind and the stars and nameless powers of winter and death. But a tingle of fear ran along Alfric's spine at the thought of what might be abroad that night. To Luigur with it! His lean face twisted in a snarl, and he snapped sword and javelin back in place and rode trotting on toward Valkarion. Come ambush or priesthood or the Moons themselves, he meant to sleep in the city tonight. Behind him, the hovering falkh wheeled down toward the two still forms sprawled on the highway. The sun slipped into the dead sea-bottom, and night came with a silent rush. Amaris rode high in a froth of stars, painting the hills with a dim eerie silver in which monstrous shadows lurked. The wind blew stronger, colder, with a faint smell of salt like the ghost of the long-dried ocean. Alfric wrapped his worn cloak tighter about him against its searching chill. Save for the vast echoing howl of the wind, the hiss of sand and rustle of leaves, he was alone in the dark. He heard the creak and jingle of his harness, the rapid clopclop of the hengist's hoofs, against a background of hooting night. The crumbling city walls loomed darkly before