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s a dyer。 We were the Dyers of Lorbanery。 Look！〃 She shook before them her muscular； thin arms； stained to the shoulder with a faint； streaky mixture of ineradicable dyes。 〃It never es off the skin；〃 she said； 〃but the mind washes clean。 It won't hold the colors。 Who are you？〃
Sparrowhawk said nothing。 Again his eyes held the woman's； and Arren； standing aside； watched uneasily。
All at once she trembled and said in a whisper； 〃I know thee…〃
〃Aye。 Like knows like； sister。〃
It was strange to see how she pulled away from the mage in terror； wanting to flee him； and yearned toward him as if to kneel at his feet。
He took her hand and held her。 〃Would you have your power back； the skills； the names？ I can give you that。〃
〃You are the Great Man；〃 she whispered。 〃You are the King of the Shadows； the Lord of the Dark Place…〃
〃I am not。 I am no king。 I am a man； a mortal； your brother and your like。〃
〃But you will not die？〃
〃I will。〃
〃But you will e back and live forever。〃
〃Not I。 Nor any man。〃
〃Then you are not … not the Great One in the darkness；〃 she said； frowning； and looking at him a little askance； with less fear。 〃But you are a Great One。 Are there two？ What is your name？〃
Sparrowhawk's stern face softened a moment。 〃I cannot tell you that；〃 he said gently。
〃I'll tell you a secret；〃 she said。 She stood straighter now； facing him； and there was the echo of an old dignity in her voice and bearing。 〃I do not want to live and live and live forever。 I would rather have back the names of things。 But they are all gone。 Names don't matter now。 There are no more secrets。 Do you want to know my name？〃 Her eyes filled with light； her fists clenched； she leaned forward and whispered： 〃My name is Akaren。〃 Then she screamed aloud； 〃Akaren！ Akaren！ My name is Akaren！ Now they all know my secret name； my true name； and there are no secrets； and there is no truth； and there is no death… death… death！〃 She screamed the word sobbing； and spittle flew from her lips。
〃Be still； Akaren！〃
She was still。 Tears ran down her face； which was dirty； and streaked with locks of her unbed； grey hair。
Sparrowhawk took that wrinkled； tear…blubbered face between his hands and very lightly； very tenderly； kissed her on the eyes。 She stood motionless； her eyes closed。 Then with his lips close to her ear he spoke a little in the Old Speech； once more kissed her； and let her go。
She opened clear eyes and looked at him a while with a brooding； wondering gaze。 So a newborn child looks at its mother； so a mother looks at her child。 She turned slowly and went to her door； entered it； and closed it behind her： all in silence； with the still look of wonder on her face。
In silence the mage turned and started back toward the road。 Arren followed him。 He dared ask no question。 Presently the mage stopped； there in the ruined orchard； and said； 〃I took her name from her and gave her a new one。 And thus in some sense a rebirth。 There was no other help or hope for her。〃
His voice was strained and stifled。
〃She was a woman of power；〃 he went on。 〃No mere witch or potion…maker； but a woman of art and skill； using her craft for the making of the beautiful； a proud woman and honorable。 That was her life。 And it is all wasted。〃 He turned abruptly away； walked off into the orchard aisles； and there stood beside a tree…trunk； his back turned。
Arren waited for him in the hot； leaf…speckled sunlight。 He knew that Sparrowhawk was ashamed to burden Arren with his emotion； and indeed there was nothing the boy could do or say。 But his heart went out utterly to his panion； not now with that first romantic ardor and adoration； but painfully； as if a link were drawn forth from the very inmost of it and forged into an unbreaking bond。 For in this love he now felt there was passion： without which love is untempered； and is not whole； and does not last。
Presently Sparrowhawk returned to him through the green shade of the orchard。 Neither said anything； and they went on side by side。 It was hot already； last night's rain had dried； and dust rose under their feet on the road。 Earlier the day had seemed dreary and insipid to Arren； as if infected by his dreams； now he took pleasure in the bite of the sunlight and the relief of shade； and enjoyed walking without brooding about their destination。
This was just as well； for they acplished nothing。 The afternoon was spent in talking with the men who mined the dye…ores； and bargaining for some bits of what was said to be emmelstone。 As they trudged back to Sosara with the late sun pounding on their heads and necks； Sparrowhawk remarked； 〃It's blue malachite； but I doubt they'll know the difference in Sosara either。〃
〃They're strange here；〃 Arren said。 〃It's that way with everything； they don't know the difference。 Like what one of them said to the headman last night； 'You wouldn't know the true azure from blue mud。。。' They plain about bad times； but they don't know when the bad times began； they say the work's shoddy； but they don't improve it； they don't even know the difference between an artisan and a spell…worker； between handicraft and the art magic。 It's as if they had no lines and distinctions and colors clear in their heads。 Everything's the same to them； everything's grey。〃
Aye；〃 said the mage； thoughtfully。 He stalked along for a while； his head hunched between his shoulders； hawklike； though a short man； he walked with a long stride。 〃What is it they're missing？〃
Arren said without hesitation； 〃Joy in life。〃
〃Aye；〃 said Sparrowhawk again； accepting Arren's statement and pondering it for some time。 〃I'm glad；〃 he said at last； 〃that you can think for me； lad。。。 I feel tired and stupid。 I've been sick at heart since this morning； since we talked to her who was Akaren。 I do not like waste and destruction。 I do not want an enemy。 If I must have an enemy； I do not want to seek him； and find him； and meet him。。。 If one must hunt； the prize should be a treasure； not a detestable thing。〃
〃An enemy； my lord？〃 said Arren。
Sparrowhawk nodded。
〃When she talked about the Great Man； the King of Shadows…？〃
Sparrowhawk nodded again。 〃I think so；〃 he said。 〃I think we must e not only to a place； but to a person。 This is evil； evil； what passes on this island： this loss of craft and pride； this joylessness； this waste。 This is the work of an evil will。 But a will not even bent here； not even noticing Akaren or Lorbanery。 The track we hunt is a track of wreckage； as if we followed a runaway cart down a mountainside and watched it set off an avalanche。〃
〃Could she …Akaren… tell you more about this enemy… who he is and where he is； or what he is？〃
〃Not now； lad；〃 the mage said in a soft but rather bleak voice。 〃No doubt she could have。 In her madness there was still wizardry。 Indeed her madness was her wizardry。 But I could not hold her to answer me。 She was in too much pain。〃
And he walked on with his head somewhat hunched between his shoulders； as if himself enduring； and longing to avoid； some pain。
Arren turned； hearing a scuffle of feet behind them on the road。 A man was running after them； a good way off but catching up f