chambers was sometimes a risky pastime. Therefore it was necessary to have another route to the Duke’s chambers. She knew that many a blind­folded girl had walked that passage, and up the ­hidden stair. One of her instructors had told her about it in some detail. The captain on that bed would know of the passage. But had he been too occupied with arranging his lace suspender belt to seal it?
It was dim here. It took her a few steps to ascertain that not only had he not sealed it, he’d left the hidden door open. His fallen clothes had plainly been stripped off in haste and on the way. She slipped off into the welcome darkness and felt her way along. In a few minutes she was opening the outer concealed door, and darting away into the gardens, towards the wicket gate so artfully hidden in the rhododendrons.
She’d won free to the streets. Now, could she get through the city without being caught? It proved easier than she’d thought possible. She’d watched the pattern of patrols from the roof. Their move­ments were no more difficult to predict than the steps of her favorite dances, and thus easy to evade. But the gates . . .
 . . . were thoroughly locked and barred. With distinctly wakeful Morkth-men guards patrolling them. Could she get over the walls? Unlikely. She knew that fear had helped her to climb before, but she certainly didn’t feel up to it now. Still, she’d better try to find a way up onto them. Then she saw her salvation. Outside the city granaries heavy wagons were being loaded in the silent, mechanical fashion of the Morkth-men. Already most of them were piled high with sacks. She sneaked closer, stumbling over an empty sack. She picked it up and ran to the last wagon in the row. The deity who watches over fools and amateurs must have been working overtime for her that night. The guard had just stepped over to an alley to relieve himself, a thing even Morkth-men must do, as she scrabbled and scrambled her way up the cargo net to the top. She burrowed into the sack and lay still, holding onto the net and hoping they’d not notice that the one lumpy sack was outside the net.
A few minutes later she heard the crack of whips, and then, with a jerk, the steel-cased wheels started to rumble their