"I do," it said.

Wendee Jay, who had been in and out of the council circle occupying herself with some of her more routine tasks, now stepped boldly into the light. She curtsied deeply and then spoke her protest in a breathless rush."Last time Lady Firekeeper swam the moat, Your Majesty, she thought no one noticed, but I did and she was chilled to the bone. I'm not saying that she can't do what you ask, but some provisions should be made for preserving her health-otherwise you'll have her coughing out her lungs."

Derian quietly applauded Wendee. It was hard to speak up front of people you'd been taught since childhood were your betters.

Firekeeper looked over at Wendee.

"You noticed?"

"I was awake in my tent and heard you come back and speak with Lord Edlin. He may not have noticed, but I saw you were shaking. I was about to come out and insist that you get into something warm when you decided of your own accord to go to bed. The next day, you told us where you'd been and I put the facts together."

Edlin looked abashed at the look Wendee gave him.

"Sorry," he said. "I was excited about the crow being back, what?"

"Any thoughts on how we could deal with this?" Shad asked. "I think Goody Wendee raises a valid point."

"Lady Blysse could carry dry clothing in an oiled bag," one of the commanders suggested.

"Better she use some sort of bridge," another protested. "Keep her out of the water at all costs. It is Wolf Moon, after all, no time to be swimming in ocean water."

"Firekeeper?" Shad looked at the wolf-woman, soliciting for her opinion.

"A bridge is big," she said, her hand gesture showing that what she meant by "big" was closer to "awkward," "but the water is cold. If I take time now, I could make something to carry and lay across moat."

Wheeler, the scout officer, rubbed his hands together in approval.

"Let me put some of my people on it, my lady. They've skill in this. No need for you to reinvent the wheel and those I have in mind can be trusted not to breathe a word that they're building more than a prototype for future action."

Firekeeper caught the gist of his offer and graciously nodded her acceptance. Wheeler excused himself to give the necessary orders.

"Good," Sapphire said. "Now, as some of you have doubtless guessed, the second major element in our siege tactic is the need to break down the smugglers' will-their morale. As I see it, by whatever right Baron Endbrook has claimed a place there, he is a relative newcomer. Initially, the smugglers will view us as their enemies, but after Firekeeper has rid them of their foodstuffs and proven that they are not so impervious to attack as they think, then Prince Shad and I will send a message to them."

Shad continued, "We want Citrine Shield alive and safe. That's what started us down here. When we consulted with King Tedric and Queen Elexa, though, they rapidly showed us that there is a bigger picture here-a more complicated question. In short, Baron Endbrook cannot be permitted to operate on Hawk Haven land without penalty. If we let him do so, we send a message to Queen Valora-a message that she will interpret not as caution but as weakness.""Moreover," Sapphire said, picking up on Shad's point so smoothly that Derian couldn't help but imagine prince and princess rehearsing exactly what they would say, who would make which points, it would be to our advantage to break the pirates' hold on Smuggler's Light. As long as rule of the sea was split between Bright Bay and Waterland, the pirates were a nuisance, but one we could deal with in our own time.

"Baron Endbrook has shown us that the pirates are willing to operate as the Isles' ally. We must show this cannot be. Therefore, if at all possible, we must take Smuggler's Light. If we cannot-and I am willing to admit we may not be able to-then we should at least leave them a clear message that the days of tolerance are over!"

She brought her hand down on her thigh as she concluded, a dramatic gesture that was not all affected. It was perfectly in keeping with her persona as the warrior princess, the heroine of ballad and song.

There was no applause, but the respectful silence that greeted her proclamation-outrageous as it was in view of what they had learned about the smugglers' defenses, in view of past defeats-was more acclamation than any cheering could be.

The meeting broke up soon after that. The commanders went to tell their squads an abbreviated version of plans. It had been decided that it would only help matters if a pirate spy learned of the plans to break Smuggler's Light. For that reason anyone seen leaving the swamp-except for Baron Endbrook and Citrine Shield, of course-was to be permitted to go.

In winter's hold, the pirates would find summoning reinforcements difficult. In any case, they were unlikely to wish to declare open war on Hawk Haven. Smuggler's Light was a good base, but it was not the pirates' only base-and now they might well feel they had a claim on Queen Valora.

Before departing for their own pavilion, Shad and Sapphire paused to say good night.

"That was a good plan, cousins," Elise said, rising onto her toes to kiss Sapphire's cheek.

Sapphire glanced from side to side, but there was none but their own small company to overhear her.

"To tell the truth," she said, "wiser heads than ours concocted it. King Tedric was the one who suggested much of it. Your father, Elise, helped us refine it along the road."

"Father is here?"

Elise looked not so much pleased as terrified.

"He is. By his own choice, Baron Archer stayed from council. He said it was essential that our commanders think Shad and I are completely in charge."

"You are," Doc said softly. "You are."

Shad nodded. "I've commanded a vessel-a small one-but the responsibility is nothing to this."

"And I," Sapphire said, her voice hushed, "thought I would be delighted, but I find myself continually thinking what Uncle Tedric said before he let me go."

"What?" Elise asked.

"He told me to be careful, that he didn't want to lose another daughter to that blasted lighthouse."

Sapphire's voice broke on the words. Then she straightened and shook back her hair."And if we do things right, he won't. Where is Firekeeper?"

Derian spoke up, "Building bridges or, rather, watching them be built."

"I won't meddle further," Sapphire said. "Firekeeper will know best how much time she needs and when she's ready to leave."

"And we," Shad said, "need to go 'round the campfires and speak to our troops. Rumor moves fast and dangerously at times like this."

They strolled away, hand in hand, for a brief moment just two people who had been married for only a few moonspans and who, in that time, had repeatedly faced death and hardship. Then they reached the light of their own, larger, camp and almost visibly became crown prince and crown princess again. "I'm so glad I'm not them," Elise said. Derian thought he heard Doc murmur, "So am I." He might have been mistaken, though, because when he looked over at the healer, Sir Jared's features were as expressionless as those of a graven image.

Occasional clouds slid over the sky. There was little moonlight, so little that Firekeeper didn't need to consider it before setting her bridge in place, arranging the elements just as the scouts had taught her.

Going barefoot for better balance, she crossed. Blind Seer followed. The temporary cloud cover was breaking as she hid the bridge near where the smugglers kept their own bridging materials. Anyone looking out from within should see-even in daylight-nothing unusual. Of course, if plans went correctly, by daylight both the wolf-woman and her bridge would be long gone.

Needing no bridge, Elation and Bold had gone ahead. Bold swooped in front of various windows, reporting that he thought there could be watchers behind some of the shutters. The very shutters that protected those within from attack, however, would limit their line of sight.

Two of the lighthouse's residents did keep watch in the gla.s.s-walled room at the very top, but Bold reported them less than perfectly attentive. In any case, though they could see for a distance around them, what lay at the lighthouse's feet would be more difficult to see.

Elation disdained keeping watch. The peregrine wanted to be in on the hunt.

"Where do we begin, muddy-feet?" the falcon asked.

Firekeeper paced so that she was within the lighthouse's shadow, moving low to the ground so that if by any chance she was glimpsed she would be mistaken for an animal. She recalled the layout of the pens from her earlier visit.

Six rectangular buildings, s.p.a.ced evenly apart from each other, radiated out from the round base of the lighthouse, creating six fan-shaped yards between them. Three of these were devoted to gardens. The remaining three, set with a garden between them, held livestock.

Poultry was stupid. Pigs were slow-through fearsome when roused. The rabbits were in hutches, but the goats ranged with more freedom.

"Goats, I think," she said. "And I will release the rabbits for your hunting, Elation. Remember to still your cries!"

The falcon made a short, indignant squawk.Blind Seer hung back while Firekeeper, using those clever fingers which the Royal Beasts had praised, opened the gate into the area that held the goats and rabbits.

She paused to listen, but no alarm was raised. That was good. Although neither she nor Blind Seer had scented dogs, they had not been able to eliminate the possibility that they were present. Perhaps the pirates had not wished to have their location given away by barking.

The slaughter that followed was quick and efficient, so much so that Elation protested that the wolves had kept all the fun for themselves.

Firekeeper did not reply. While Blind Seer sc.r.a.ped manure over the carca.s.ses to ruin the meat for delicate human palates, she moved onto the pigs. The huge, fat creatures were sluggish with sleep and her Fang opened several throats before they even knew she was among them.

Blind Seer took care of the rest.

She had left the poultry for last. Foxes would have been kept out of the carefully built coops, but not the wolf-woman.

Ignoring Elation's indignation-for the peregrine considered birds her rightful prey-Firekeeper slipped inside, her fingers twisting necks with ruthless efficiency. It seemed a pity to waste so much good food when the camp held so many to feed, so she filled an empty grain sack with the fattest of the bodies.

So far, no alarm had been raised. Indeed, the only guardian they had met was a slim tabby cat who had doubtless been hunting for pickings of his own. Hissing warning and defiance, he had slipped away and Firekeeper had been happy to let him go. If the humans grew hungry, let them eat cat.

Grinning fiendishly, Firekeeper risked opening the garden fences. These-meant to keep out rabbits and deer-again offered no challenge to her.

Wolves are great diggers and Blind Seer plowed the loose soil around cabbages and root vegetables with enthusiasm. Some food might be scavenged after his work, but it would be filthy and scarred.

They took their time, trusting Bold to warn them, choosing stealth over speed, for even if an alarm was raised, they felt certain they could escape.

When the work was done, Firekeeper waited for another cloud, then replaced the bridge. Tossing the bag containing the chickens to the other side of the moat, she paused. Blind Seer seemed to read her thoughts.

"I didn't spoil all the meat," he replied slyly. "I had some hopes of dinner."

She grinned. Another sack was quickly filled with dead rabbits. A young goat was easily slung across her shoulders. Blind Seer hoisted another in his jaws, trotting as lightly as if unburdened.

It was a pity they had to leave so much, but there was no helping it. Firekeeper took some comfort in the thought that the moat-though an effective barrier for humans-would not keep out all the scavengers.

Unless the smugglers worked quickly, Bold's relations would claim the rest. A winter-hungry puma would find the moat easy to leap.

After first hiding the bridge, Firekeeper hauled their booty away from Smuggler's Light. Once they were in the depths of the swamp, Firekeeper cached the sacks of poultry and rabbits in a tree. Cold would keep them for a while. Then she gutted the goats, giving the innards to Blind Seer, who accepted them as delicacies.She didn't forget to give the winged folk their share, but try as they might, neither bird could match the wolf's voracious appet.i.te. Firekeeper's own belly growled at the hot, b.l.o.o.d.y scent, and she satisfied it with a few strips of still warm liver. Proper eating could wait.

At last, liberally gore-splattered from her shaven head to her bare feet, Firekeeper hoisted the goats across her shoulders and let Blind Seer lead the way back to camp.

Doubtless Wendee would scold her for the mess she had made of her clothing, but even with that looming on the horizon, Firekeeper was completely happy.

Chapter x.x.xVII.

Cackling from the old crone roused Waln from an uneasy sleep.

"Why are you laughing, old woman?" he snarled. He had stopped using the courteous address "mother"

after learning that the old woman actually was Longsight Scrounger's own mother, but had yet to learn her real name.

Grinning so broadly that her pink gums with their occasional tooth showed plainly, the old woman laughed.

"Can't you hear the ravens? Can't you hear the crows? 'Tis an omen-everyone's saying it, all but the cooks. They're weeping and wailing."

She scuttled out before Waln could ask more, leaving behind her a pot of hot water. He'd decided to forgo his morning tea unless he could brew it himself, lest some rival poison him. Shaking a few leaves of mint into the water, Waln walked to the closed and shuttered window. Without, he could hear the hoa.r.s.e squabbling of ravens and as he peered out a dark-winged shape pa.s.sed his line of sight.

Hastening into his clothing and gulping the tea so fast that he tasted it as nothing but heat in his throat, Waln headed downstairs, schooling his feet so that he would not be seen to hurry. That simple act took nearly all his self-discipline, for the closer he came to the lower levels the louder came the sounds of argument and debate.

When Waln emerged into the large, round base of the lighthouse which served as the common room, he found himself the immediate focus of a swarm of unhappy and frightened people who crowded up to him before he could step off the landing at the base of the stairs.

Fragments containing snippets of information shattered against his ears like hail stones.

"... all dead!"

"Blood over everything..."

"... spoiled. Unfit for a dog..."

"Prints the size of a horse's hoof..."

"A host of moles couldn't..."

"Starve..."Raising one arm into the air, Waln drew in a deep breath and bellowed for silence. Then he cast about until he spotted Longsight Scrounger. The lean man smiled ingratiatingly, ducking his head like a dog expecting to be kicked.

"Longsight, you speak first," Waln ordered, still shouting though the silence was absolute. "The rest of you hold your tongues till I ask to hear."

Straightening now that he had his master's attention, Longsight looked confident, almost as arrogant as he had when he had ruled the Light.

"It's like this, Baron," Longsight said, "to make it short. Something got into the pens in the night. There's not as much as a chicken left alive nor a cabbage that hasn't been uprooted. Cook says that she can make something from the vegetables, but most all of the meat has been spoiled. What the ravens and crows didn't get at has been filled with muck and manure."

Waln didn't want to give credence to this report. It was too incredible for belief, but the nodding heads in the crowd gathered around him confirmed that Longsight was-at least in general-correct.

Some mouths were working in a fashion that made Waln think that there were details yet to be revealed.

He ignored these gossips and cast around for someone to blame.

"And who was on watch last night?" he growled, his voice rumbling low in his throat.

Five of the pirates stumbled forward with a jerky motion that made Waln suspect they had been shoved.

All five showed signs of exhaustion brought to wakefulness by a sudden shock. He'd seen the like shipboard when a storm or attack had roused all hands on deck to deal with the crisis. Doubtless the watchmen hadn't been in bed long-if at all-before someone had raised the alarm.

One was pushed forward to act as spokesman for the group. "We were, Your Baron, sir," he said. He was called Red Stripe or, sometimes, Cime, and stood low in the hierarchy, doubtless why he had been forced under Waln's gaze.

"And this slaughter happened without any of you hearing or seeing a thing?" Waln said with brutal contempt.

"Yes, sir."