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was also twenty days after Bakhtiian’s return to the army, they came to a great river that wound through the land. There, like a vision on the other side of the river, Diana saw a city with gleaming white walls and silver towers and goats grazing peaceably outside the walls amid the sprawl of huts and hovels where, presumably, the poorest people lived. The city astonished her, all marble and colored tile, a romantic’s dream. Beyond the city, grain ripened in the sun, and farther still, orchards blanketed the gentle slopes of surrounding hills. This was a beautiful countryside, rich, fertile, and handsome. And yet, on this side of the river, the army arranged its camp on fields long since trampled and withered by the summer’s heat. She felt a sudden, sharp sympathy for the Habakar people and for their lands. What a horrible thing it was, to destroy such beauty. How had this piece survived? Had the jaran army been unable to cross the river?
    But even as she thought it, she saw a troop of red-shirted, armored horsemen riding out from around the city: jaran riders. What if one of them was Anatoly? She had an hour before her call for rehearsal, so she ran to the Veselov camp, hoping to get news from Arina.
    The Veselov camp was settling in for what Diana could now recognize was a long stay—at least two days. Girls beat carpets and laid them out to air in the sun. Three boys dug out a huge fire pit in the center of the camp, in front of Arina’s great tent. Mira, running around with a pack of children, caught sight of Diana and ran over to greet her with a kiss. Diana hoisted her up and went in search of her mother. She found Arina at the other edge of camp, saying good-bye to her husband. Kirill rode off with a handful of other men, including the gorgeous cousin Vasil, and Arina turned and saw Diana.
    “I’m so pleased to see you.” Arina kissed her on each cheek and regarded her with pleasure. They exchanged more commonplaces as they walked back into camp.
    “Will the camp be staying here for long?” Diana asked.
    “Yes. There’s forage and supplies to be had here. Yaroslav Sakhalin has returned.”
    “With his whole army?”
    “Oh, no. Evidently they’ve laid in a siege at the king’s royal city, but Sakhalin returned to see if it was true that Bakhtiian did not die. Then he’ll return. Kirill went to attend Bakhtiian.” She said it proudly. Diana thought it sweet how proud Arina was of her husband, who had done so well despite his debilitating injury. “He can use his hand again, although it’s very weak.”
    “He can? How did that happen?”
    “The gods graced him, I suppose. I think he’s suffered enough.” Arina paused to survey her domain and to direct some girls in the placement of an awning, two tents, and a bronze stove. “Do you think,” Arina added in a lower voice, “that I’m selfish to hope that, even if his arm does heal, Kirill won’t be able to ride with the army again?”
    Which, like all of these men, was probably his greatest desire. “No,” said Diana softly, touching Arina’s hand, “I don’t think so. Is there any news of Anatoly? Did he come back with his uncle?” A surge of hope shook through her.
    “I don’t know. But Kirill will know, surely, when he returns.”
    Diana lingered there until it was time for rehearsal, but Kirill did not return. That night, Anatoly did not come to her tent. In the morning Owen appeared in high good humor, having managed a coup of sorts. He had convinced Bakhtiian to let the troupe ride with a jaran escort into the Habakar city and there put on a performance. He chose The Caucasian Chalk Circle in its untranslated, unexpurgated form, since these Habakar people could not understand them anyway and would presumably have no problem accepting a male as judge. Diana already played the leading role, and Owen and Ginny, as understudies, could cover Hyacinth’s parts.
    They rode out in the wagons about noon. Members of the Veselov jahar had