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"Well, I'm not your enemy, I told you before," said Roland. "You're welcome in my domain anytime. You are welcome here as long as you care to stay." Roland paused for a minute and then continued. "I don't want any problems with this new regime, this Prince and his ministers. I want things to remain as they were."

"That's what I want too," said Rhoshamandes. "But I cannot go on as things are! I must have it out with them! They must exonerate me fully and completely so that I'm not hounded and harassed wherever I go."

"Is that really what you want?"

"I'm no warrior, Roland. I never was. If Amel hadn't seduced me, I'd never have struck down the great Maharet. I had no quarrel with her! I had no quarrel with her thousands of years ago when I was made a holy warrior of the Queen. I didn't care what we fought for. I broke loose as soon as I could. Amel seduced me, Roland. He convinced me we were all in danger, and then it all fell to pieces, what I attempted, and now the Prince sits in judgment on me, and Bene

dict has left me. And everywhere I go I am despised. There is no land of Nod for me, Roland."

"Go to them, and talk to them," said Roland. "If they wanted to destroy you, they would have done it already."

"I've been ordered to stay away," said Rhoshamandes. "My fledglings for the most part are loyal to me. Allesandra is under my roof now. You never knew Allesandra. She's brought me their unequivocal warnings. Stay away! The others come and go and with the same warnings."

"They have to be uneasy about you, Rhosh," said Roland.

"Why? What can I do to them!"

"They fear you."

"They have no cause."

Another pause fell between them.

"I hate the Prince," said Rhoshamandes in a dark voice. "I hate him! I would destroy him if I could wrest Amel from him! I'd burn him until--."

"That's why they fear you," said Roland. "You're an enemy who cannot forgive them for winning. And they know this. So what do you really want?"

"I told you. A hearing. Complete exoneration. I want the pack, the rabble, and the trash ordered not to dog my steps and curse at me! I want an end to the fear that some rogue ancient one will blast me with fire for what I did!"

Silence.

Dim distant voices from the boulevard above. Derek could picture it, as he had a thousand times, the big brightly lighted cafes filled with crowded tables, the cars streaming by.

"Tonight, when I came into the opera house, I knew you would be there," said Rhoshamandes. "I've never once come to the opera here in Budapest that you were not somewhere near at hand. And Roland, I feared you!"

"No need," said Roland. "I don't bend the knee to this Prince. Why would I? You think I'm the only one who has never acknowledged any of these events? There are others like me all over the world. We don't despise him. We don't love him. We want to be left alone."

"Oh, I know that now, but do you realize what it is like to fear that at any turn you might meet some blood drinker who will not honor the Prince's order of restraint and it will be a battle? I detest battle, Roland! I detest it. I tell you, the great Maharet was ready to die. If she hadn't been, I would never have been able to strike her down. I don't have it in me to slay other blood drinkers. I never did! And without Benedict...without Benedict..."

"And you think if they gave you a hearing, heard you out, invited you to Court, brought you into the inner circle, that Benedict might come back."

Clearly this meant so very much to the one called Rhosh that he didn't even reply.

"Well, listen, Rhosh," said Roland. "I may have something that will help you. But it's a secret, a powerful secret, and I won't share it with you without your solemn oath. Give me that oath, never to reveal what I mean to share with you, and I will share it. And it may be something you and I can offer the Prince for whatever you want. I do think this Prince has it in his power to make things right for you. Seems they love him, the lately begotten. I hear they're flooding to his court from all of Europe. Seems the whole world of the Undead clamors for his love."

"Oh, true, of course, but it's Gregory and Sevraine and Seth who rule, and that spiteful Marius, that liar, that cheat, that secretive sanctimonious Roman, who..."

"I know. But all of them will want this secret. Especially Seth and his doctor fledgling Fareed; and Seth is older than you are, Rhosh, and older than the Great Sevraine."

"Seth's not older than Gregory," said Rhosh.

"What is he like?" asked Roland.

"No one really knows, not even Fareed. He's the son of the great Akasha, there is no doubt of it. And it is said he confides in no one as to his secret thoughts, claiming only to be a healer, claiming only to bring other healers into the Blood so that we might be studied, understood."

"I don't like this," said Roland. "No good can come of this studying of the Blood. But it's all the more reason why this Seth will want this secret."

"What are you talking about? What is this secret?"