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“My opinion remains the same, Sire,” Swordshank said. He twitched his head in the direction of Trisu’s note. “We know very little, other than that Master Brayahs believes sorcery has been at play in Halthan and that it’s apparently been used to influence Baron Borandas’ seneschal.”

“Forgive me, Sir Frahdar,” Sir Jerhas said a bit tartly, “but we also know sorcery came within a hairsbreadth of killing Master Brayahs when he attempted to wind-walk to us here to warn us of what he’d discovered!”

“You’re correct, of course, Milord.” Swordshank gave the Prime Councilor a respectful half-bow. “The question, however, is whether that sorcery reacted to his attempt to reach this particular place or to his attempt to reach His Majesty, wherever he might have been.”

“In either case, it was obviously intended to prevent him from warning the King,” Tellian pointed out in what struck Leeana as an oddly neutral tone.

“Granted,” Swordshank said, giving the baron the same abbreviated bow. “But we have no way of knowing what else might be afoot.” His gaze lingered for just a moment on Tellian’s before he looked back at the King. “I think we must assume Lord Trisu’s fear that this is a part of some larger and more complex plot is accurate, Sire. That being the case, I would greatly prefer to keep you here, safely inside these walls, until Lord Trisu and Arm Shahana arrive to bolster our strength. With only forty men, I fear we might find ourselves hard-pressed to protect you properly if we should meet an organized attack in the open. Especially if that attack might be supported by sorcery.”

“Surely your armsmen should be able to protect His Majesty long enough to get him to safety at Hill Guard!” Sir Jerhas retorted sharply.

“With all due respect, Sir Jerhas,” Golden Hill said, “no one can predict where even a stray arrow may strike, far less one which might be aimed at a crowned head. Indeed,” he looked sharply at Tellian, “Baron Tellian himself can testify to that, given his experience earlier this year.” He returned his gaze to Macebearer. “Here, at least, His Majesty is within a wall, protected from that hazard. Once Sir Frahdar has been reinforced by Lord Trisu’s armsmen, we would be far better placed to move His Majesty safely to some place of greater security.”

He’d managed to avoid mentioning Arm Shahana, the Quaysar Temple Guard detachment, or Kalatha’s war maids quite handily, Leeana observed. That was the first thing she noticed; then she saw the way her father’s nostrils had flared ever so slightly and the tiny, almost invisible muscle tic at the corner of his right eye. She’d seen that tic only rarely as a child, but she’d known to brace herself whenever it put in an appearance, and she wondered exactly what had brought it on this time. Then she realized it had been Golden Hill’s last five words.

‹ ‘Some place of greater security’ than Hill Guard, is it?› she snapped silently to Gayrfressa, and the mare tossed her head.

‹ That’s what Dathgar was suggesting,› she agreed. ‹ I don’t understand why, though. He’s my King, too, even if he does have only two-feet! I say let’s take him someplace we can protect him properly! ›

‹ They’re afraid Father might be behind it,› Leeana told her flatly. The courser’s single ear pricked in astonishment, and Leeana reminded herself not to look up at her. ‹ I haven’t seen Swordshank since I ran away to Kalatha, and I’d never actually spoken to him even then, but I’ll bet you he’s not one of the war maids’ greater admirers. And if this Golden Hill is who I think he is, he’s one of the King’s gentlemen-in-waiting…who just happens to be one of Baron Yeraghor’s lords warden from the East Riding. I’d say it’s crossed Swordshank’s mind that Father might be the one trying to influence Borandas. The idea’s ridiculous, but in all fairness, it’s his job to worry about even ridiculous things where the King’s safety is concerned. And if he is wondering about Father’s possible involvement, having me turn up with a warning may only have made him even more suspicious. That’s what Golden Hill’s playing on, and it wouldn’t surprise me very much if he’s actually party to whatever’s happening! ›

‹ You truly think so?› The notion clearly distressed Gayrfressa, and Leeana leaned her shoulders comfortingly back against the mare.

‹ I don’t have any evidence of that except for the fact that he’s from the East Riding,› she admitted, ‹ and the fact that he’s casting aspersions on Father isn’t exactly calculated to help me look at him less suspiciously. But that’s obviously what he’s suggesting, whatever his motives are, and Father can’t argue against it too strongly without making anyone else who might be inclined to wonder about his own motives-like Swordshank-wonder even harder.›

“I agree His Majesty’s safety has to be our paramount concern,” Tellian said. His tone was still neutral, but the chipped-flint anger under the neutrality was painfully evident to his daughter. “However, Chergor was never intended as a place to be seriously defended. Its wall’s unlikely to do more than inconvenience a determined assailant, and even if it weren’t, we have too few men to man it adequately.”

“But if there’s a wizard involved, and if he’s using his accursed sorcery to spy upon us,” another of the King’s gentlemen-in-waiting said, “he’ll be able to steer any attackers directly to us, wherever we might be. This is the only place Lord Trisu knows to find us, on the other hand. If we leave, he may never make contact with us-in time, at any rate.”

“Exactly.” Golden Hill looked earnestly at King Markhos. “Your Majesty, Lord Trisu did precisely what he ought to have done. He sent his message to you here by his swiftest courier, so that your personal Guard might be forewarned. But according to his letter, he also sent couriers to Balthar and Sothofalas. The instant those couriers reach their destinations, scores of additional armsmen will be sent directly here. In the meantime, Lord Trisu will arrive to reinforce us. Surely the wisest course is to wait until he does and then determine where-if anywhere-it would be wiser for Your Majesty to go.”

Leeana Hanathafressa was no mage, but as she looked around the faces of the men gathered about her father and her King, she needed no mage talent to realize what the decision was going to be.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Fiendark fly away with them!”

Varnaythus looked up from his gramerhain quickly, eyes narrowing. Sahrdohr was glaring into his own stone, and his earlier smile had turned into a snarl of fury.

“What?” the senior wizard asked sharply, and Sahrdohr raised his head to look at him, gray eyes fiery.

“I don’t think your trap spell killed that bastard Brayahs after all,” he grated.

“What?” Varnaythus’ eyes narrowed further, into mere slits. “Why not?”

“Because that bitch daughter of Tellian’s just arrived at Chergor on her damned courser, that’s why!” Sahrdohr snarled.

“ What?! ”

Varnaythus wasn’t normally the sort who repeated himself, but he did this time. And then he snatched himself up out of his chair and took two explosive strides to look over Sahrdohr’s shoulder. The images in someone else’s gramerhain were never as clear for any wizard as the ones in his own, but Varnaythus could make out enough to see the huge chestnut mare standing in the hunting lodge’s courtyard and the tall, slim young woman who’d arrived upon her back. He leaned closer, craning his neck as if listening, then scowled darkly.

“What the hell is causing that racket?” he demanded harshly. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“Not very well,” Sahrdohr replied in a distinctly unhappy tone. “Something’s affecting the scrying. It’s almost like a counter glamour, but not quite.” His expression was as disgusted as it was angry. “If I had to guess-and that’s all the hell I can do at this point-it’s that damned wedding bracelet of hers. Carnadosa only knows what sort of effect an artifact like that’s going to have on fine control spells like this! But whatever it is, it’s not fully effective. Vision isn’t too bad, and at least a little sound is getting through. I can read their lips if they turn their heads the right way, and even with all that background noise, I can actually catch at least a little of what they’re saying. That’s how I heard one of them mention Brayahs by name…which leads me to suspect he’s nowhere near as dead as we’d prefer.”