After a while, Chaldez began to think again about Feldak, and he remembered, with a burning flush, how Dan had once called out his real name within Feldak's hearing. He must have told Sigmar! His life was ended; Sigmar had at last found his mortal enemy, and all that remained now was death.
It was a very difficult thought to come to terms with. He wondered how he was to be killed, but his mind shied away from too-close an examination of the possibilities. Instead he thought about his life, and it seemed to him absurd that it was about to be ended. What had been the purpose of it all?
He said nothing of these thoughts to his companions; as far as they were concerned he had simply sunk into a silent gloom.
Once during the night Chaldez saw just a flash of hope. Sigmar had called him Zakarrah, not Chaldez. He wanted to think it was significant, but he knew he was building a bridge of sand.
That night was the longest of his life; sleep came in snatches, full of confusing, horrible dreams so that he awoke from them with a sense of relief, which melted as soon as he remembered where he was.
Towards morning he fell deeply asleep, and no dreams troubled him. He awoke in the hazy sunlight of a late-summer morning, and was desperately hungry, and cold too. Tsem was awake, looking pale and wretched. Chaldez attempted a smile, but they remained silent. Rassi was the next to wake up, and then Zikir stirred. The other prisoners were still prone. Chaldez looked at them, and began to think that death might be preferable to being left to rot.
The sun was climbing towards its zenith when the door in the fencing was pushed open and a soldier entered the enclosure. "Zakarrah?" he called. Chaldez stood up.
"The Danbedekkan will see you now. Come!"
Chaldez felt slightly dizzy; as he walked through the camp it was as though he were dreaming; the camp was unreal, he was unreal, the soldier striding out in front of him was unreal, the sun on his back was unreal. But Sigmar, standing outside his pavilion, was real enough. He had his fists on his hips and his legs were apart. He indicated that he wanted Chaldez to be brought directly before him. He looked up into his face. "You'd better tell me why you came back," he said. "Come inside."
In the pavilion he allowed Chaldez to sit at the long dining table and he ordered that bread be put before him. Chaldez, his mouth watering at the sight of it, was about to tear off a hunk when he thought about his three friends. He said "My companions have not eaten. I alone am responsible for bringing them here. They came at my command. They shouldn't be punished."
Sigmar said "They are being attended to. You eat, and then talk." He went back outside, and while he was gone Vanchis came in. He looked at Chaldez and shook his head. "The Danbedekan likes you," he said, "or you'd not still be alive."
Chaldez began to get accustomed to the idea that he was not about to die. The sense of a crushing burden was suddenly gone; the relief made him light-headed, and as he ate he smiled to himself, thinking about how he had tortured himself the previous night.
Sigmar returned and sat at his own table on the raised dais at one end of the long dining table. He beckoned to Chaldez. "Explain yourself," he said.
Chaldez told him about the journey down through Sair; about the grain wagons and the attacks on them; about his commando unit with their curious round craft for crossing the Put; about the excursion into Laifya, and his arrival in Fromond. Sigmar listened impassively.

Chaldez said "In Fromond nothing was to my satisfaction," and he tried to explain the importance he had attached to the Imperial Horse remaining a unified force, and how circumstances had made that impossible. Even harder to explain was his revulsion for the nature of the campaign which he found himself involved in.
"I am a military commander," he said, with some desperation, "A warrior such as my brother Zahkahn Jeng is by nature better disposed to that kind of warfare; I found I had nothing to give. I can serve our cause better here than ever I could there. That is why you find me here before you."
When Sigmar spoke it was as though he had never intended Chaldez to be anywhere else but at his side. He told him about his own campaign during the summer; how units of his army, operating very much like the Imperial Horse, had harassed Cregitzig, picking off his stragglers, attacking his supply lines and generally making a nuisance of themselves. In the conquered territories of Eujinni and Yiesia, in the far east, they had destroyed garrisons and disrupted the movement of troops. Cregitzig's campaign against the Soans had not gone well.
"He has fallen back, no doubt to gather his strength for a new offensive in the spring, but we shall attack before then. I will bring him to battle when the snow is on the ground and he is least prepared, and in the meantime I shall continue to sap his strength. I promise, there will be work for you."
After some more discussion, Chaldez asked to see his countrymen who had been arrested with him. Sigmar consented.
"Quarters," he said, "are being prepared for you."
Chaldez suddenly felt bold. "You may have guessed that there was another reason for my leaving the Imperial Horse . . . "
Sigmar scowled, but Chaldez had now committed himself. "I hoped," he said, "to see Tamasi again." His heart pounded as he uttered her name.
For a while Sigmar was silent, his expression making Chaldez wish that he had held his tongue. He was prepared for an outburst, but not for what he was about to hear. Sigmar's voice was so low as to be almost inaudible.
"Tamasi," he said, "is dead."