Gods, they were still her babies.

Cade had accused her of coddling and smothering them. He had called her a fool and said that fighting was the only way to stay alive in a cesspool like Sanctuary.

But how could she explain it to him? Terrel was his brother-surely Cade knew about his brother's crippled hands. How could Cade forget? How could he continue to embrace violence? She and Terrel had con- sciously rejected it, and rejected it for their children.

She wasn't stupid, though. She knew he continued to teach Toth when- ever she wasn't around. The bastard.

Toth worshiped Cade. For him, his uncle was a great warrior from one of the tales he'd once heard Hakiem tell in the Bazaar. But Sarah knew better. She had an idea now what Terrel had meant when he'd said Cade wasn't really a warrior. The man was a killer as sure as the sea is blue.

It was all so confusing. As much as Cade scared her, still he was kind in his own way, but not as Terrel had been. It wasn't gentleness; he was always grim. But he seemed so sad. Last night Dru had cried in her sleep calling for her Da; and when Sarah had gone to check on her she found Cade there soothing the child. He had held her, cooing soft words, unintelligible, but they calmed the child. She fell asleep in Cade's scar- ridden arms.

The door behind Sarah burst open and Toth ran into the courtyard.

"Ma, Marissa's here," he gasped out. Sarah looked at him for a mo- ment. He wasn't tall, but his shoulders were beginning to broaden out. He had the Ilsigi hair and eyes of his father's family, but it was her nose and chin that denned his features. The boy shook the hair away from his eyes and beamed at his mother. She smiled back faintly. This last week he actually seemed happier; Cade at least seemed good for the children, for some strange reason.