“Then where is he, Uncle? How comes it that you under whose command is all the might of Babylon cannot spare some few thousands to seek him out?”
“Perchance I am seeking, Niece,” Tau answered gently.
As he spoke a slave ran up, saying:
“Letters from the King of Kings! Letters from Babylon!” and having touched his forehead with the roll, he gave it to Tau who opened and read. Within was another roll, a little crumpled roll such as might have been hidden in a headdress or a shoe.
Tau glanced at the contents of this second roll and gave it to Nefra.
“A writing for you, Niece,” he said quietly.
Seizing it, she read. It was brief and ran thus:
“Again, O Lady, a certain one whose name you may guess writes to say that save for a hurt to his leg which cripples him he is well in health. This he does because he has learned that the enemies who surround the place where he lies may have cut off former messengers. Should he who bears this come safely to you at Babylon or elsewhere, he will tell you all. More I dare not write.
“Signed with the sign of the Dawn which you yourself taught me how to shape.”
Nefra finished reading, then fell rather than leapt from the chariot into the arms of Tau.