"In that case," the messenger replied, turning to them as the baron held the tent flap for Elise. "The prince and princess request your attendance as well, Lady Archer."

They went, walking side by side. Elise gloried in her father's approval. She wasn't naive enough to believe that it would be unfaltering, but it felt good to know she had earned it. Maybe she did have what it would take to be a Baroness Archer who wouldn't shame her ancestors' spirits.

For just a moment Elise felt she had the answer to her dilemma regarding Sir Jared. Then the guard outside Sapphire and Shad's pavilion hailed them and her momentary insight slipped elusively away.

The crown prince and princess were waiting inside along with a small group that included most of those who had been involved in yesterday's tactical meeting but did not include-Elise noted with a certain amount of glee-Jet. She nodded to her camp mates, but no one violated the formality of the royal presence with small talk.

After a few other latecomers had arrived and all had been welcomed, Sapphire turned to business.

"I am pleased to inform you that the first stage of our plan to dishearten the smugglers seems to have gone without a hitch."

Elise glanced at Firekeeper, who looked rather smug. Sapphire continued: "Knowing that they would likely notice the disruption as soon as dawn broke, we sent a messenger bearing a letter containing our terms for surrender soon after first light."

Shad lifted a doc.u.ment from the table.

"In the absence of secretaries and all the rest," he said with a disarming smile, "let me read you the text."

"Greetings-

"We of Hawk Haven have decided to tolerate no longer your illegal residence upon our lands and within a structure built at the desire of the Crown, said structure being the lighthouse popularly known as Smuggler's Light.

"You are hereby notified that you must vacate said property and its environs by next sunrise. If you do not do so, we will take forcible measures to make certain that you vacate the lighthouse- up to and including making certain that you vacate your lives.

"Although your behavior has incurred our displeasure, we are willing to permit you to depart with your personal property and without fear that you will be detained for the crimes you have committed against this kingdom if you surrender alive to us the following two persons: Baron Endbrook of the Isles and Citrine Shield of Hawk Haven.

"If said persons are not surrendered to us promptly and alive, then the residents of the lighthouse may expect that all efforts will be made to detain them and to incarcerate them for their crimes. If said persons are surrendered, all residents of the lighthouse may have their freedom as long as they depart our borders and those of Bright Bay within a reasonable period of time.

"Note that we are aware that said Baron Endbrook and Citrine Shield were alive and residing within said lighthouse as of the writing of this letter. Do not attempt to convince us otherwise.

Equally, murder of said persons as an expedient manner of delivering them into our custody will be most brutally punished.

"By this time you will have noticed the damage worked upon your gardens and livestock.

Consider this a token of our seriousness.

"A messenger bearing a white flag of truce may safely enter our camp west of the swamp at any time before next dawn and expect to be treated fairly. After that time, we will recognize neither flag nor messenger but treat with you as the criminals that you are."

Shad looked up from his reading.

"We've signed it," he said with a slight grin, "with every flourish and t.i.tle we could come up with between us, including such that indicate that we are acting under King Tedric's aegis."Wheeler, commander of the scouts, was the first to speak.

"It's firm," he said, his tone adding, "Perhaps a bit too firm," though Wheeler was either too polite, or too politic, to say so.

"It is firm," Shad agreed. "We felt that it must be. From what I know of pirates, these people are likely to break into factions under stress. If we permit them overmuch time to decide and too many loopholes, we are creating reasons for factions to form."

Wheeler nodded, but Elise could tell he would have preferred a more subtle approach. Fleetingly, she recalled Sapphire and Shad playing .that strategy game-navy and pirates?-while they convalesced.

She hoped they had not mistaken reality for a game.

A few more questions were raised, mostly having to do with what precautions had been taken to keep the lighthouse under observation, what should be done about those seen sneaking away now that an ultimatum had been issued, and the like. However, as the letter had already been sent, there was not much that could be debated.

Elise glanced at her father, but Baron Archer looked quite satisfied. She wondered if he had known of the contents of the letter in advance, and, considering what Sapphire had said earlier about how he had conferred with them on the ride from Eagle's Nest, thought he might have known at least the gist, if not the precise contents.

After the meeting was dismissed, Baron Archer excused himself from his daughter.

"I am going to ride the rounds of those archers I have posted around the swamp's western and southern perimeters," he explained. "They'll be getting restless by now and needing to be rotated."

He bowed over her hand and departed. Elise fancied that she heard him whistling as he walked away, though the sound was cut short, as if Baron Archer realized that such action was beneath his dignity.

She turned toward her own camp. If there was to be fighting, she would not be in the thick of it, but she and Doc would be needed to a.s.sist the field-hospital staff. In that case, she must be as rested and clearheaded as any of those who would fight.

Briskly, Elise stepped up her pace, hoping that Sapphire and Shad's bold feint would work and that no more blood would be shed.

Chapter x.x.xVIII.

The next dawn came-the deadline for surrender-but no one emerged from the lighthouse.

No one at all, and that was odd. Smuggler's Light had several doors. One at the side of each of the buildings around the base led out into the gardens or live-stock pens; there was also the lighthouse's original door, a broad, weathered panel now reinforced with iron.

Early the morning before, soon after Firekeeper's sabotage had been discovered by the inhabitants, there had been much activity outside the lighthouse. It seemed that pretty much everyone who lived in the lighthouse had wanted to see the destruction for themselves.

Later, under the direction of a rangy, k.n.o.bby-jointed fellow, work crews had emerged, some toscavenge edible food, some to dig pits to bury that which was ruined beyond use.

Based on these comings and goings, Captain Wheeler's scouts had been able to make a fair a.s.sessment of how many resided within Smuggler's Light. The number of inhabitants had been higher than any had imagined-a fact that no one greeted with particular delight.

Now, however the doors remained closed; the shutters stayed folded over the windows. Deserters had been expected-even prepared for-but not one person had left.

From Firekeeper, who had the news from her winged friends, Derian Carter knew that at least some of the smugglers remained inside. The wolf-woman also a.s.sured him that no one had escaped via some other route-a tunnel under the moat, for example. All night, she and Blind Seer had restlessly patrolled the swamp, augmenting the watch kept by the more usual scouts. Like them, she had seen no one depart.

Dawn turned into a clear, bright winter morning. When not one shred of pink remained in the skies and the sun had finished mounting from the east, the crown prince and princess called a tactical meeting in their pavilion.

Derian, perhaps in deference to his place as one of King Tedric's counselors, was included. So was Firekeeper.

The wolf-woman whined some, saying she was tired from her long night's vigil, that she would never keep awake through all the human talking. After Blind Seer nipped at her heel, however, she brightened and trotted after Derian.

"Maybe," she said with a grin, "I sleep better because of all the talking. Otherwise, I worry too much."

"Just don't snore," Derian retorted. "Otherwise I'll have to kick you."

The pavilion was crowded enough to be comfortably warm, but the emotional temperature was less pleasant. Those summoned to the meeting milled about, talking in low voices to each other and avoiding the royal couple. Derian could understand why.

Sapphire was clearly not in one of her sweeter moods. Derian would have been willing to bet that she blamed herself for things not going according to plan. She stood off to one side, deep in a heated conversation with the more senior commanders-Baron Archer among them. Only their low voices kept Derian from cla.s.sifying the discussion as an outright argument.

Standing by himself a few paces away, Prince Shad looked both worried and distinctly worn. Derian felt an outrush of sympathy for the prince. Not only did Shad bear his own concerns, but Sapphire's more personal ones as well. Moreover, Shad bore the additional onus of being from Bright Bay.

Early that morning, as Derian had tried to overcome his private disappointment that the ploy hadn't worked as planned, he had wandered restlessly through the military camp. More than once he overheard fragments of nearly treasonous conversation among the soldiers, the gist of which was that the pirates hadn't surrendered because they had somehow learned that their ocean escape route was guarded by ships from Bright Bay.

Bright Bay, at least as the gossip went, had been-as everyone knew or claimed to know-allied with the pirates before King Allister's War. Now the pirates trusted their former allies to let them slip through the barricade. Why, then, should they surrender? They were just waiting for the right moment and would escape to sea.

Such rumors shouldn't have had the strength of spit and spider silk, but the truth was that many of thosewho fought for Hawk Haven were uncomfortable with the alliance with Bright Bay. Bright Bay had been the enemy in their parents' day and in their grandparents' day. It was too soon to trust.

Moreover, most of the soldiers had never served on a ship or even been to sea. To them the ocean was an alien element. By a.s.sociation, those who were at home upon the waves were as dangerous and unreliable as the waters themselves.

Something in Shad's posture, a certain level of unspoken defiance, led Derian to believe that Shad had heard these rumors.

The crown prince must feel very alone, Derian realized. His wife-really his only close friend in Hawk Haven-was isolated from him by her own concerns, leaving him to face by himself the growing hostility of those who claimed to be his subjects.

Thoughts such as these made Derian put himself forward more than he might have in another situation.

Normally, he dreaded more than anything being thought a social-climbing commoner, an a.s.s-kissing sycophant. Putting those fears aside, Derian crossed to where Prince Shad stood, ostensibly reviewing a map, but really providing an excuse for those who were avoiding him to do so.

"Your Highness," Derian said, offering a deep bow.

Shad laughed a touch stiffly, but he lowered his map.

Derian noted it was Edlin's original of the swamp and the area around the lighthouse. Last night, Edlin had been making rough copies by lanternlight, all the while chatting away about how he hoped that their only purpose would be to provide him with a chance to practice drafting.

"No court manners here, Counselor," the crown prince said.

Derian winked at him.

"I'm just trying to teach Firekeeper her manners, Prince Shad."

As Firekeeper had simply collapsed along one side of the tent, her head pillowed on Blind Seer's flank, Derian had excuse enough for the jest.

One corner of Shad's mouth quirked in an almost unwilling grin.

"She looks beat," he said.

"She is," Derian admitted. "No one is harder on Firekeeper than she is herself. She also cares more deeply for Citrine than most people realize."

Shad nodded a bit absently.

"We won't leave Citrine there," he said, his tone so low as to be almost inaudible. "No matter what people say, we won't leave her in there!"

Derian hazarded laying a hand on the prince's arm.

"I never thought you would," he said. "Neither did Firekeeper. If she did, she wouldn't be asleep now.

She'd be awake and trying to find a way to handle this all by herself."

For a moment the grim lines around Shad's eyes softened. He looked Derian directly in the eyes."Thank you," he said softly. Then, more loudly, turning to the company at large, "It looks as if everyone is present. Shall we come to order?"

As the mob was resolving itself into a tidy arc facing the royal couple, the prince tapped Derian lightly on one arm.

"If I could impose on you, Counselor, as you are not with the military portion of this operation, I would like you to stay here and hold the map for all to see when needed."

Derian nodded and stepped back a few steps. He remained near to hand, but effaced himself as he had learned to do when serving Earl Kestrel. Grateful Peace's description of his role in the Dragon Speaker's court came to mind.

Very well, Derian thought, a trifle amused. Now I am a watcher, too.

The meeting began with the briefest summary of events that everyone present knew all too well.

But now we all know them in the same words, Derian thought, wondering if he could explain this to Firekeeper. Probably not. She thinks too much in emotion and impulse to understand the value we put on words.

Then he remembered the terrible pain in Firekeeper's eyes when she had admitted to him her discovery that Royal wolves could lie, and he wasn't so certain.

When the meeting shifted from what had been done to what should be done, the tone became acrimonious. In his self-appointed role as watcher, Derian saw things that he might not otherwise. How many of those other meetings had been shaped by his fear that he might not have anything to say if called upon, or worse yet, by his desire to think of something worth saying?

He banished even those self-recriminations and set himself to watching-and listening. Almost mystically he became aware of the patterns of interaction between those gathered: glances exchanged, a nudge with an elbow, a warning kick-gentle as the brushing of an eyelash but as potent as a shout.

These little signs and a dozen more he saw, though he did not comprehend all the subtleties of their patterns any more than a dragonfly lightly touching on the surface of a pond sees the larger pattern caused when ripples interact.

But he saw and was captivated by the heady power of watching.

There were those here who thought mostly of what this meeting, this campaign meant to them. There were those who considered further-of what it might mean to the kingdom or even to the region. There were those who could not get beyond their immediate frustration at being ruled over by those they thought of as children.

Nor were these ripples all discrete. Sometimes more than one pattern rippled from a single person.

Derian made himself concentrate on the immediate issue rather than on the subtle patterns of power.

Basically it resolved itself into a simple question: What was the best way to respond to the pirates'

defiance of the terms set forth in the letter?

Despite variations as to what strategy should be employed, opinions fell into two general camps-either lay a siege or attack.