Dragon Magic by Andre Norton

sir-rush-lau had sunk to the bottom, seeking a hiding place from the light which struck in while the matting was being replaced.
    The Nubian tried to measure by the shadows how much time it might be before his appointed meeting. He fought down his excitement and he was lucky in that there was no senior priest on duty. The others were so used to his daily inspection of the pool, which he made last as long as possible to suggest his special knowledge, that they no longer watched him.
    He ate alone, as usual, for here he was neither slave laborer nor freeman. So he drew his ration of barley-meal porridge, radishes, a few figs, and today an onion. These he ate very quickly, hardly able to choke down the mouthfuls.
    Midday—and the courtyard was empty. Sherkarer walked to the pool, appearing to check on the new matting roof. He could hear from beyond the wall the trumpeting of an ill-tempered elephant. The sound carried well, since the usual hum of the temple and the city had died away. A swift glance told him he was unobserved as he came to the drain, squatting down there to look as if he suspected some trouble with the water supply.
    “You are there?” A voice came hollowly out of the ground.
    But the three words were enough to disappoint the Nubian. No countryman of his would speak so; his own hard-learned knowledge of this language carried with it an accent, and he was sure that the same would be true of any Nubian.
    “I am here,” he answered, wanting to solve the mystery of who had sent a royal scarab, pricked a message on a reed.
    There was a grunt, as if whoever lay there was trying to shift position in cramped quarters. Then the other spoke again. “Have you thought of the words of Daniel, Nubian?”
    Daniel! Was that court intriguer still trying to draw him into some plot against the priests?
    “He who asks questions cannot avoid answers in turn”—Sherkarer repeated a country saying as he tried to think fast. “Who are you who hide in the ground to speak of Daniel?”
    “One who is his ears and sometimes his mouth, when there is need for it, Nubian.” But the voice was impatient now. “I ask again—have you thought upon his words?”
    “Why should I, hidden one? One who runs alone cannot be outrun by another. I live because the sirrush lives, and they believe that I know that which keeps it so.”
    “Would you then choose to remain here as a slave to a stinking monster when you could be free and on the trail back to your own country?”
    “Restless feet may carry one into a snake pit—”
    “I have no time to trade wise sayings with you, Nubian! This is an offer, take it or throw it away. Support Daniel that he may win the full favor of the King, or else remain as you are until your monster dies and you have no longer a place here. Daniel forgets not those who stand with him—and the might of the Great King’s seal reaches across the world. He can win your freedom and an open road to your own land.”
    “If he can do this,” retorted Sherkarer, “then why has he not done so for himself? He said with his own mouth that he is captive here. One falsehood spoils a thousand truths, hole lurker!”
    “There is laid upon Daniel a task, set by the Lord God Jehovah—that he abide here to soften the heart of the Great King toward our people. He chooses Babylon to serve.” The voice sounded so much in earnest that the Nubian’s doubt was shaken.
    “A man can promise the world, yet when the time comes he may be unable to give even a pinch of dust. You would dangle the hope of freedom and Meroë before me as one coaxes a donkey with a bunch of fine grass—yet the eating of that grass may never come.”
    “How long will your monster live, Nubian? Measure your own life-span by its! If it dies here, will the priests let the blame rest upon them? Not when they have a slave to name.”
    That was a hard truth which hit home as might a well-aimed arrow.
    The creature was sluggish and had been showing less and