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She slowed to admire some of the handiwork on display。 It was remarkable how even the most unlikely masks…a badger； a boar； a whiskered grey mouse's head made of softest leather…were crafted in such a fashion as to be sensuous and attractive。 How could the head of a boar be sensuous？ She wasn't sure； but she wasn't an artisan； either。 The masks would be even more alluring； she realized； tomorrow night under torchlight and the risen moons； with wine running in the streets and lanes of the city； mingling anonymity with desire。
Mazur had invited her to dine with him the evening before； for the first time in a long while； and at the end of the meal had presented her； courteous and assured as ever； with a gift。
She'd opened the offered box。 Even the container was beautiful： ivory and sandalwood； with a silver lock and key。 Inside； lying on crimson silk； had been the mask of a white owl。
It was the doctor's owl； Jehane knew； sacred to the white moon and the pursuit of knowledge； a pale light flying down the long paths of the dark。 Galinus； father of all physicians； had had an owl carved at the head of his staff。 Not many people knew about that。 Mazur； evidently； was one who did。
It was a generous； thoughtful gift； from a man who had never been less than generous or thoughtful with her。
She looked at him。 He smiled。 The problem with Mazur ben Avren； she had decided in that moment； was that he always knew he was being perceptive； that when he offered a gift it was the precise gift that ought to be offered。 There was no uncertainty in him； no waiting to see if approval might e。
〃Thank you；〃 she said。 〃It is beautiful。 I will be honored to wear it。〃
〃It should bee you；〃 he said gravely； reclining at ease on the couch opposite hers； a glass of wine in one hand。 They were alone； the servants had been dismissed when the meal was done。
〃Tell me；〃 Jehane added； closing the box and turning the delicate key in its lock； 〃what have you chosen for the Lady Zabira？ If the question is not over…bold？〃 Contrary； provocative。 Why should one be expected to change？ And it was always a pleasure…such a rare pleasure…to cause this man to blink and hesitate； if only for a moment。 Almost childish； she knew； but surely not everything childlike was a bad thing？
〃It would be ungracious of me to reveal her disguise； would it not？ Just as it would be wrong for me to tell her what I have offered you。〃
He did have a way of making you feel foolish。
Her response to that； though； was much the same as it had been all her life。 〃I suppose；〃 she said lightly。 〃How many of us will you have personally disguised for Carnival； so no one but you knows who we are？〃
He hesitated again； but not from disfiture this time。 〃Two； Jehane。 You and Zabira。〃 The pale wine in his glass caught the candlelight。 He smiled ruefully。 〃I am not so young as I once was； you know。〃
He was not above duplicity in this sort of thing； but she had a sense he was speaking the truth here。 She was touched； and a little guilty。
〃I'm sorry；〃 she said。
He shrugged。 〃Don't be。 Five years ago； even two years ago； I would have deserved that。〃 He smiled again。 〃Though I must say； no other woman would have asked the question。〃
〃My mother would be horrified to hear you say that。〃
He shook his head slightly。 〃I think you malign her。 I think she would be pleased her daughter was a match for any man。〃
〃I'm hardly that； Mazur。 I'm just prickly。 It gets in the way； sometimes。〃
〃I know；〃 he said； making a face。 〃That I do know。〃
She smiled； and stood up then。 〃It is late for a working doctor；〃 she'd said。 〃May I thank you again； and take my leave？〃
He'd risen as well； still graceful； save for the hip that sometimes troubled him in rain。 Not nearly so old and infirm as he might want； for the moment； to suggest。 There was always a purpose to what Mazur said。 Ammar ibn Khairan…who was； of course； exactly the same in this…had warned her about that。
Sometimes one didn't want to track through all the layers of meaning or implication。 Sometimes one wanted to simply do a certain thing。 Jehane walked towards Mazur and kissed him softly upon the mouth for the first time。
And that surprised him； she realized。 He didn't even lift his arms to hold her。 She'd done the same thing to ibn Khairan once； in Fezana。 She was a terrible woman。
〃Thank you；〃 she'd said to the chancellor of Ragosa； withdrawing。 〃Thank you for my mask。〃
Walking home； with an escort； she realized that she'd forgotten to ask what he would be wearing at Carnival。
Amid the morning sunlight and the crowds； thinking about that evening； Jehane discovered that she had reached the end of the long street of stalls。 She turned left； towards the lake； where it was quieter。 Knowing that Ziri was following unobtrusively behind her； she strolled； without real purpose or destination。
She could go back to the infirmary。 She had three patients there。 There was a woman near her delivery time who could be looked in on at her home。 None of them needed her particularly this morning； however； and it was pleasant to be abroad in springtime without immediate responsibilities。
It occurred to her then that what she really lacked here in Ragosa was a woman to befriend。 She was surrounded by so many acplished； even brilliant men； but what she missed just now was the chance to go outside the walls on this bright morning filled with birdsong to sit beside a tumbledown hut with Nunaya and some of the other street women； drinking something cool and laughing at their ribald； caustic stories。 Sometimes you needed to be able to laugh at men and their world； Jehane thought。
She had spent…what was it； much of a year？…being serious and professional in a man's world。 Sleeping in a tent in winter in the midst of a military pany。 They had respected her for that； had accepted her skills； trusted her judgment； and some of them even loved her； Jehane knew。 But there were no other women with whom she could simply laugh； or shake her head in shared bemusement at the follies of soldiers and diplomats。 Or perhaps even confide certain night…time struggles； when she lay awake in bed listening to stringed music played for other women from the dark streets below。
For all its pleasures and satisfactions there had been unexpected stresses to this life away from home； beyond the ones that might have been predicted。 Perhaps； thought Jehane； it wasn't such a bad thing that this notorious Carnival was ing； when no one but Mazur ben Avren would know for certain who she was。 An edge of excitement came with that thought； and； inevitably； some anxiety。
It would have been nice to have Nunaya to talk to today。 Nunaya understood more about men than anyone Jehane knew。
Unaware that she was doing so； she gave her characteristic small shrug and walked on。 She wasn't good at meandering。 She walked too briskly； as if there was a pressing engagement awaiting her and she was late for it。
She was twenty…eight years old； and nearing the moments that would mark her life forever。
First； though； passing along a quieter laneway； she glanced into an open doorway and saw someone she knew。 She hesitated； and then； in part because she hadn't spoken privately with him since learning the tidings of Sorenica； Jehane walked in to where Rodrigo Belmonte stood alone； his back to the doorway； fingering samples of parchment in a scribe's shop。
He was concentrating on what he was doing and didn't see her enter。 The shopkeeper did； and came out from around his counter to greet her。 Jehane motioned him to silence。 The man smiled knowingly； winked and withdrew to his stool。
Why； Jehane wondered； did all men have that same smile？ She was irked by the shopkeeper's assumption and so her words when she spoke were cooler than she'd meant them to be。
〃And what will you use this for？〃 she asked。 〃Ransom demands？〃
Rodrigo was another difficult man to surprise。 He glanced back and smiled。 〃Hello； Jehane。 Isn't this beautiful？ Look。 Gazelle skin parchment； and sheepskin。 And have you seen the paper this splendid man has？〃 The scribe beamed。 Rodrigo took two steps