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smiles. "Foreigner, ergo, tyrant, eh? Even if their ingrates' bellies are full for the first time in years? Well, no matter. Their opinions don't concern me-as long as they behave."
    She thought for a moment. Rolf waited silently, ignoring the pain his remarks had caused. Finally, she said, "I remember the words of an ancient wise man, in one of the old scrolls at home. He wrote, 'Man is wise only when aware of his lack of wisdom,' and went on to point out that the masses are asses because they're ignorant to the point of knowing they already know everything worth knowing."
    Rolf said nothing in response, seemed unusually thoughtful-perhaps because she was being unusually verbose... She jarred him back with a change of subject.
    "Does this man make a habit of talking about me?"
    "No, Milady. It's something different every day and, begging your pardon, always something idiotic. Far as I know, this's his first political venture, though it's hardly controversial."
    The cold wind blew, gathering strength with time.
    "Give me some examples."
    Rolf, back on safe ground, relaxed, chuckled, imparted a bit of high nonsense. "Just yesterday he claimed the world is round."
    Nepanthe, who knew, was startled into wary curiosity. "Another example!"
    Without a chuckle, Rolf hurriedly said, "The other day he claimed the sun was just a star, only closer. Skaane, the philosopher, challenged his claim. They had a real madman's debate, with Skaane claiming the earth revolves around the sun..."
    "What'd he say the day before that?"
    Rolf could maintain only a minimal air of sobriety. "Something religious, something about every seventh rebirth of the soul being into the animal with a nature most closely approximating the individual's. His donkey, he claims, is Vilis, the last King of Ilkazar."
    A ghost of a smile played across Nepanthe's lips. "Go on."
    Rolf grinned. He had remembered an excellent example. "Well, the earth's changed shape since last week. Then it was a big boat floating on a sea of Escalonian wine, the vessel being propelled by a giant duck paddling in the stern. He was drunk that day, which's maybe why he saw the universe as a sea of wine."
    Another of those rare smiles broke across Nepanthe's face. "Bring him here!"
    "Milady, they'd storm the Tower if we stopped him now!"
    "Well, wait till he's done."
    "Yes, Milady."
    She crossed the chamber to a northern window. The snow-topped Kratchnodians loomed in the distance. The north wind muttered, threatening snow.
    Saltimbanco recognized the importance of Rolfs appearance the moment he came out the Tower door. Five minutes later his mad speech rolled to a hilarious conclusion. In a quarter-hour the street before the Tower was empty, save for his donkey and collection box. The box was overflowing.
    Rolf asked the fat man into the Tower. Insides all aquaver, Saltimbanco followed. He reached Nepanthe's chamber puffing and snorting like a dying dragon. His skin had reddened, his face was wet with perspiration.
    Nepanthe's door stood open. Rolf entered without formality. "The man whose presence you requested, Milady."
    Turning from the north window, Nepanthe replied, "Thank you, Captain. You may go."
    "But..."
    "You said he was harmless."
    "Yes, but..."
    "I shall scream most loudly if I need your help. Begone!" He went.
    Nepanthe faced her visitor, said, "Well?" When he didn't respond, she said it again, louder.
    Saltimbanco hauled himself out of the wonder the woman had loosed upon him. She was beautiful, with raven hair and ebony eyes, a fine oval face-did he detect a hint of loneliness and fear behind the frown-lines he had more or less expected? He was amazed. The woman wasn't the aging Harpy he had anticipated. Getting on thirtyish, maybe, but not old. His innocent eyes insolently examined her body. He suspected this might be an assignment less unpleasant than expected.
    At that point her voice drew him back.
    "Yes, woman?" Playing his role to the hilt, he bowed to no nobility,