*  *  *  *

Shaka bared his teeth and glared at Temuchin, preparing himself for
the test of the battle, the guards, and the fire.  Grasping his spear
more fiercely and screaming a Zulu battle cry, Shaka braced himself
for the fight to come.

Cleopatra's eyes flickered in surprise at the melee. From her position at
the far side of the room she watched Tjar's spear bury itself in the
Chinese woman's body.  Her gaze turned to Shaka as he attacked
Temuchin, and with a rather cool disinterest she took in the rapidly
expanding battle, sizing up the probable outcome.  

Tjar cursed at the lifeless corpse of the Chinese woman as he wrenched
his spear free from her belly.  He whirled around around to face the
guards, moving toward the fiery bed.

He speared a burning pillow made from Riverworld towels, and hurled it
toward the guards, shouting.

Tjar: "We are doomed unless we overcome these guards! Fight like
       heros, my friends!"

Charles stepped away from the fallen corpse of the guard, and his eyes
darted between the now-burning bed, the sound of approaching feet
outside, and the circling figures of Temuchin and Shaka. He caught the
meaning of Tjar's shouts, ran toward the burning bed, and pushed it.
At first, he intended to block the staircase with the bed, but the
appearance of Jeanne, Glenn, and Friend, changed his mind, and, using
the bed, he corralled most of the guards into an empty corner of the
room, blocking them in with the burning bed. As Tjar defended his back
from the few guards who remained free, Charles menaced those behind
the bed with his spear when they attempted to free themselves. The
cornered guards must have preferred to face a fall over fire and
flint. They dove through a window and the sounds of hut roofs breaking
their falls rose above the crackling of the fire for a time.

With the arrival of guards, Cleopatra had sunk further back into the
shadows, but as she glimpsed Jeanne's form ascending the staircase,
her eyes darted back and forth between the lazari and the guards. With
the flight of the guards behind the bed, she seemed to make a
decision, and headed quickly across the room toward Jeanne and Glenn,
ducking beneath the swinging spears.  She glanced past them down the
staircase, and then looked back into the room again.

Jeanne gestured curtly to the olive-skinned woman, motioning her
downstairs, and scanned the room quickly.  Unable to determine if
there were several small battles or one concerted effort, she chose a
likely target, nearby.  She whispered to Glenn and Friend behind her,
and scrambled into the room.

Jeanne: "Follow me!"

Raising her voice, she called to Shaka and Charles.

Jeanne: "Hssst! Behind you!"

She ran at the nearest of the guards, using her spear as a bayonet.
She flinched when the fight brought her closer to the burning bed, and
concentrated her attacks to stay clear of the flame, which had begun
to spread to the walls of the building itself.

While Jeanne and Tjar began fighting together against the remaining
guards, Charles turned to watch Shaka and Temuchin. More than one
wound had been exchanged between the men. Shaka's longer reach and
agility were well-matched by the shorter man's compact power and
dexterity. As the struggle continued, however, it was clear to
Charles' practiced eye that the metal blade gave Temuchin too great an
advantage. Each of the warlord's blows dealt Shaka a more grevious
slash than any the African prince could inflict.

But the flames that devoured his palace were distracting Temuchin as
well, and he saw only a flash of movement when Charles dove at his
feet and tackled him to the floor. The scythe sailed across the room
toward Jeanne, who recovered it, and ushered the others down the
staircase.

Shaka and Charles easily pinned the stunned Temuchin, and looked at
each other. Shaka's hand signs spoke of the value of Temuchin as a
hostage; Charles' growling Bantu suggested that the world might be
better rid of the man. Their debate, though only a moment, proved
academic. The building succumbed to the flame and collapsed around
them. As the others helped them from the wreckage, there was no sign
of Temuchin, who must have been buried beneath the rubble.

Outside, the scene was chaotic, as the men and women of the camp
fought to douse the fire before it could spread beyond their leader's
former palace. Some brought water from the River, while others ran
panicked amid the smoke. The few guards that menaced the lazari were
quickly distracted by the impinging flames.

Jeanne motioned excitedly toward the north wall of the compound and
her words were unmistakable.

Jeanne: "That way is out. Jo and Florence are waiting."

Charles, Friend, Glenn, Shaka, and the olive-skinned woman made to
follow her.  Not a few disgusted or angry glances were directed at the
olive-skinned woman, who merely shrugged, murmuring.  Charles
translated her Latin for the others.

Woman: "You fight with these."

She reached out with one long nail, and ran it over Glenn's bicep,
trailing it down his forearm until she lightly taps his dagger.  She
then reached up and gently ran a hand over the curve of her left
breast and down over her stomach.

Woman: "My weapons are more subtle, yet just as powerful."

Before Jeanne could lead the others away, however, Tjar stopped them
and shook his head. "Hypatia", he said.  Surprised, the olive-skinned
woman nodded, and took Tjar by the arm, leading him back toward the
center of the compound.

Jeanne: "I'll go back for them later. This way, the rest of you. We
	 must flee before the fire is either too well-constrained or
	 rages uncontained."

If the men who followed the young woman saw her shudder at the thought
of raging flames, they said nothing.

Together, Tjar and the olive-skinned woman made their way to the
women's prison on the south edge of the compound, where Hypatia sat
deeply entranced, oblivious to the noise and smoke. The guards were
gone, and Tjar's dagger wedged open the simple lock of the cell.
Entering within, he put his hand in Hypatia's and squoze it
reassuringly as her eyes opened.  Nodding quietly at Tjar and
Cleopatra, she stood up and followed them through the chaotic camp,
noticing for the first time the smoke, fire, and confusion as they
sped toward the northern wall.

				*  *  *  *

Josephine took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. For a few
long moments she stood silently, her brown body a statue in the dark.

Opening her eyes, she made eye contact with Florence and nodded
simply.  She turned to the wall and commenced trying to open the space
in the bamboo poles again.  Her eyes searched about her methodically,
and her ears were pricked for the sounds of struggle or commotion.

A movement caught her eye, and she spoke excitedly to Florence.

Josephine: "I think Jeanne is returning..and not alone!"

Josephine and Florence held apart a section of the bamboo wall. First
through was Shaka, bleeding from numerous gashes and cuts. He was soon
followed by a man who introduced himself with an Austrian accent as
"Friend", and began looking at Shaka's wounds. Charles and Glenn
came through last, and Jeanne, standing within the compound called  
through the opening.

Jeanne: "I'll be through in a minute. Tjar went to get Hypatia. I'll
	 come through when they get here. Take this."

She pushed the handle of a heavy scythe-like weapon through the slit
to Josephine, who took it and frowned at its metal blade.

Florence joined Friend and eyed him professionally. She spoke with him
in German.

Florence: "Doctor?"

Friend: "Ja, but not a surgeon. These cuts are clean, though."

Florence: "I'm an army nurse. Stand clear."

Friend stepped back as Florence looked over Shaka as well. Shaka
grunted disparagingly and shrugged at the medics. Florence smiled
slightly as she concurred with Friend's appraisal.

A few moments later, Tjar, Hypatia, and the olive-skinned woman
scrambled through the opening and the company was nearly reunited.
Jeanne's vault through the gap made their number complete and not a
moment too soon.

Jeanne: "They've got that fire under control, and they're very angry.
	 I think they dug up that leader of theirs. We'd better leave
	 this place."

The charge of two score of troops from around the east and west sides
of the wall emphasized Jeanne's summary. The resurrectees fled
northward, along the River, hoping to evade their pursuers before they
could orient on the company. At the River's edge, they saw a large
sailboat.

Shaw sat in his sailboat, anchored to the east Riverbank. He'd
traded two weeks supply of liquor and dreamgum for the boat, which
he'd christened "The Camel", and she'd proved a marvelous
acquisition. He was watching a fortress-like village that he had
passed in the night, sailing upRiver. It seemed to be burning.
He was surprised to see the group of ten men and women fleeing the
fire, and the company of troops from the village forming up behind
them.

The short, boyish-looking man in the boat was wearing a towel
wrapped about his head like a turban, and another about his waist. He
gave a start and turned his eyes from the fire in the compound to the
rapidly approaching group.  Grinning broadly, he stood and began
raising the boat's bamboo anchor and unfurling its sail, motioning the
company forward with his arms. 

As their Chinese pursuers were not far behind, the ten hesitated only
a moment before splashing their way into the River and onto the
boat. The stranger pointed to himself, said "Shaw", and then indicated
the wooden oars on the floor of the boat. All but the olive-skinned
woman and a dark-skinned woman holding a large scythe with a metal
blade began rowing heartily, and the boat sped upRiver, away from the
fortress-village. Looking back over their shoulders, the group saw the
stocky form of Temuchin shaking his fist in the air until they passed
through a narrower valley and lost sight of him. Resting from rowing,
they continued under sail. 

Shaw grinned again. The sun rose.